And there was one, Ackronnion, clothed with rags, on which was the
dust of roads, and underneath the rags was war-scarred armour whereon
were dints of blows; and when he stroked his harp and sang his song,
in the gallery above maidens wept, and even old lords chamberlain
whimpered among themselves and thereafter laughed through their tears
and said: "It is easy to make old people weep and to bring idle tears
from lazy girls; but he will not set a-weeping the Queen of the
Woods."
And graciously she nodded, and he was the last. And disconsolate went
away those dukes and princes, and troubadours in disguise. Yet
Ackronnion pondered as he went away.
King he was of Afarmah, Lool and Haf, over-lord of Zeroora and hilly
Chang, and duke of the dukedoms of Molong and Mlash, none of them
unfamiliar with romance or unknown or overlooked in the making of
myth. He pondered as he went in his thin disguise.
Now by those that do not remember their childhood, having other things
to do, be it understood that underneath fairyland, which is, as all
men know, at the edge of the world, there dwelleth the Gladsome Beast.
A synonym he for joy.
It is known how the lark in its zenith, children at play out-of-doors,
good witches and jolly old parents have all been compared--how
aptly!--with this very same Gladsome Beast.
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