a bargain

A bargain

Hear now this tale of a fair young maid of noble birth, so many years ago when kings and queens in castles great abode, and knights rode out 'neath skies above as blue as the wayside conflower below, and she had great love for a handsome squire. She watched for him from her high window each day from earliest morn 'til eve's shade fell. Some days she saw him as his knight and he rode forth on some brave errand, or to sport of chivalrous kind, and her heart leapt in her bosom at the sight, his face framed by yellow curls smiled in her dreams each night. And her father seeing sighed at her love so seeming as in vain, her brothers laughed and winked in tease, and her mother simply kissed her cheek and silent said: "...my child..."
  Only her serving-maid well understood, though she herself so young, and pondered long and often how she her mistress' match might make.
  That handsome squire's sister she sought out, she met her in the village, once on market-day, again at the church yard gate, another time at the summer fayre, and so on, each time as though by accident, but each was by design. And soon they talked of love as young girls do, the sister of her brother spoke and said how he of the fair maid's love knew not, and the two some fair intrigue thus sought.  "I know" said the one, "a witch who can a love-essence distil, which certain in a girl and youth will tender love fulfil."
   They seek this granny in her kitchen hung with herbs, and shelves all bottle-filled, a great dark book with strange devices writ therein she reads as the girls explain what need is theirs. She listens, nods, and simply:  "Aye..."  she saith in accent strange and for a silver groat a small brown bottle stopper'd tight they swift exchange.
  Before the next day's eve a few clear drops of the essence in her mistress' cup have slipped, and the same hath put the sister in the squire's mead and watched him now with flushed cheek as he there sipped.
 
  The next day dawning bright and clear, midsummer's day, perhaps, or very near - and the maid looks through the casement of the tower, she sees... is it he? It is, the bridle's jingle drifts along the breeze, the starlings scold and flutter in the trees
and as the squire rides on beneath her window he now his eyes doth raise, which certainly he never did before, and there upon the carpet-weave of flower heads and grasses he and horse stand still - she leans far forward out, her hair a chestnut mane which cascades o'er the sill.
  And   he         she    look and smile,
               he up   she down
  Through the singing air between them.

Her servant-maid looks on in secret, her eyes alight at her mistress' joy.
The squire's sister who has walked along here in this rosy dawning sees her young brother now more of a man, less of the boy.
  Down the stair, down from her tower's late seclusion scampers girl, he leans down in the saddle and in his strong right arm he takes her up beside him, and off they ride -
  while servant, sister, lord and lady and a thousand bees and butterflies look wond'ring on; the two girls exchange a secret smile all-knowing at the secret of this blissful sport - whilst the little granny-witch sits quiet in her chair, wise-smiling at a secret of her own: that herbs and mystic potions, though mysterious and spell-bound they may be, are some small wonder when two lovers love in each for other plainly see,
  and...
          a silver groat for six little drops of pure spring water surely must a bargain be!