Wild Bells to the Wild Sky by Laurie McBain

Author:Laurie McBain
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc
Published: 2016-01-12T05:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,

Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows

Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,

With sweet musk roses, and with eglantine:

There sleeps Titania some time of the night,

Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight;

And there the snake throws her enamell’d skin,

Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.

Shakespeare

“Rare phoenix birds from the deserts of Araby! Gold-spun silks and precious spices from the Kingdom of Kublai Khan! Marco Polo himself brought back this fine piece of jade from Kinsai! Oranges from Baghdad! Ivory tusks from Malabar! Musk, given to me by the black-eyed daughter of a Tartar chieftain! I, myself, have seen the wonders of the world! Come closer, fair maids and gentleman all, and listen to my tale of desert caravans and golden-domed palaces. And see for yourselves these priceless gifts!”

Overhead, the summer sky was as bright a blue as the lapis lazuli held in the outstretched palm of a dealer in rare gems. Colorful pennants and flags, strung along the length of stalls and tents lining the narrow thoroughfare, seemed to dance to the dissonant sounds from drummers, pipers, and strolling minstrels strumming lutes.

True Thomas lay o’er yon grassy bank,

And he beheld a lady gay,

A lady that was brisk and bold,

Come riding o’er the fernie brae.

Her skirt was of the grass-green silk,

Her mantle of the velvet fine,

At ilka tett of her horse’s mane

Hung fifty silver bells and nine…

She turned about her milk-white steed,

And took True Thomas up behind,

And aye when’er her bridle rang,

The steed flew faster than the wind.

A fortnight earlier, on St. Bartholomew’s Day, the Lord Mayor of London, dressed in his scarlet gown, had read the proclamation that opened the revels of the Bartholomew Fair. With bells ringing and trumpets blaring, acrobats, jugglers, and dancers romped at the head of the procession of mummers, giants, and knaves dressed as hobbyhorses. Prancing to and fro into the crowd, they cajoled, bantered, and goaded, and singled out a likely dupe or two to be made sport of. Singers, musicians, and pranksters followed to keep the onlookers full of merriment and moving toward the booths of the fair. Horse peddlers, tinkers, and gold sellers; actors, palm-readers, and conjurors; fortune-tellers, herbalists, and mountebanks; strollers, beggars, and pickpockets awaited.

Across the thronged midway, a tightrope walker balanced precariously on a tautly stretched rope, his dangerous antics eliciting gasps and cries for more daring feats.

Astride a white horse, a parrot perched on her shoulder, a beautiful maiden with dark red hair flowing free and dressed in a robe of green velvet caught the eye. Tiny silver bells braided into the horse’s mane jingled melodically, while a funny-faced monkey dressed in his finest sat like a prince on the horse’s rump. A young girl with black hair and eyes danced beside the horse and shook a gaily colored tambourine. Her slippered feet hardly seemed to touch the ground as she pirouetted around a large, playful dog with a ridiculously big ruff tied around his neck. A young juggler deceived and

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