new-gained wit shall be to curse me, and curse me again. Do as thou
wilt herein; but I charge thee, disobey me not, for that shall bring
thee to thy bane. For if thou do not my bidding, and if thou pry
into my matters, and lay bare that which I will have hidden, then
will it be imputed unto thee for guilt, and will I, will I not, I
must be avenged on thee even to slaying: and then is undone all the
toil and pain I have had in rearing thee into a deft and lovely
maiden. Deem thou, then, this present anguish kind to thee, to keep
thee that thou come not to nought.

Now since I have begun speaking, I will go on; for little heretofore
have I spoken to thee what was in mine heart. Well I wot that thou
thinkest of me but as of an evil dream, whereof none can aught but
long to awake from it. Yet I would have thee look to this at least;
that I took thee from poverty and pinching, and have reared thee as
faithfully as ever mother did to child; clemming thee never, smiting
thee not so oft, and but seldom cruelly. Moreover, I have suffered
thee to go whereso thou wouldest, and have compelled thee to toil for
nought but what was needful for our two livelihoods. And I have not
stayed thy swimmings in the lake, nor thy wanderings in the wood, and
thou hast learned bowshot there, till thou art now a past-master in
the craft: and, moreover, thou art swift-foot as the best of the
deer, and mayest over-run any one of them whom thou wilt.

Soothly a merry life hast thou had as a child, and merry now would be
thy life, save for thine hatred of me. Into a lovely lily-lass hast
thou grown. That I tell thee now, though my wont has been to gird at
thee for the fashion of thy body; that was but the word of the
mistress to the thrall. And now what awaiteth thee? For thou mayst
say: I am lonely here, and there is no man to look on me. Of what