Farmer Giles of Ham

The news soon reached the capital, and forgetting the official mourning, and their business as well, people gathered in the streets. There was much shouting and noise.

The King was in his great house, biting his nails and tugging his beard. Between grief and rage (and financial anxiety) his mood was so grim that no one dared speak to him. But at last the noise of the town came to his ears; it did not sound like mourning or weeping.

`What is all the noise about?' he demanded. `Tell the people to go indoors and mourn decently! It sounds more like a goose-fair.'

`The dragon has come back, lord,' they answered.

`What!' said the King. `Summon our knights, or what is left of them.'

`There is no need, lord,' they answered. 'With Master Aegidius behind him the dragon is tame as tame. Or so we are informed. The news has not long come in, and reports are conflicting.'

`Bless our Soul!' said the King, looking greatly relieved. `And to think that we ordered a Dirge to be sung for the fellow the day after tomorrow! Cancel it! Is there any sign of our treasure?'

'Reports say that there is a veritable mountain of it, lord,' they answered.

'When will it arrive?' said the King eagerly. `A good man, this Aegidius – send him in to us as soon as he comes!'

There was some hesitation in replying to this. At last someone took courage and said: `Your pardon, lord, but we hear that the farmer has turned aside towards his own home. But doubtless he will hasten here in suitable raiment at the earliest opportunity.'

`Doubtless,' said the King. `But confound his raiment! He had no business to go home without reporting. We are much displeased.'

The earliest opportunity presented itself, and passed, and so did many later ones. In fact, Farmer Giles had been back for a good week or more, and still no word or news of him came to the court.

On the tenth day the King's rage exploded. `Send for the fellow!' he said; and they sent. It was a day's hard riding to Ham, each way.

`He will not come, lord!' said a trembling messenger two days later.

`Lightning of Heaven!' said the King. `Command him to come on Tuesday next, or he shall be cast into prison for life!'

`Your pardon, lord,– but he still will not come,' said a truly miserable messenger returning alone on the Tuesday.

`Ten Thousand Thunders!' said the King. `Take this fool to prison instead! Now send some men to fetch the churl in chains!' he bellowed to those that stood by.

`How many men?' they faltered. `There's a dragon, and . . . and Tailbiter, and–'

`And broomstales and fiddlesticks!' said the King. Then he ordered his white horse, and summoned his knights (or what was left of them) and a company of men-at-arms, and he rode off in fiery anger. All the people ran out of their houses in surprise.

But Farmer Giles had now become more than the Hero of the Countryside: he was the Darling of the Land; and folk did not cheer the knights and men-at-arms as they went by, though they still took off their hats to the King. As he drew nearer to Ham the looks grew more sullen; in some villages the people shut their doors and not a face could be seen.

Then the King changed from hot wrath to cold anger. He had a grim look as he rode up at last to the river beyond which lay Ham and the house of the farmer. He had a mind to burn the place down. But there was Farmer Giles on the bridge, sitting on the grey mare with Tailbiter in his hand. No one else was to be seen, except Garm, who was lying in the road.

`Good morning, lord!' said Giles, as cheerful as day, not waiting to be spoken to.

The King eyed him coldly. `Your manners are unfit for our presence,' said he; `but that does not excuse you from coming when sent for.'

`I had not thought of it, lord, and that's a fact,' said Giles. `I had matters of my own to mind, and had wasted time enough on your errands.'

`Ten Thousand Thunders!' cried the King in a hot rage again. `To the devil with you and your insolence! No reward will you get after this; and you will be lucky if you escape hanging. And hanged you shall be, unless you beg our pardon here and now, and give us back our sword.'

`Eh?' said Giles. `I have got my reward, I reckon. Finding's keeping, and keeping's having, we say here. And I reckon Tailbiter is better with me than with your folk. But what are all these knights and men for, by any chance?' he asked. `If you've come on a visit, you'd be welcome with fewer. If you want to take me away, you'll need a lot more.'

The King choked, and the knights went very red and looked down their noses. Some of the men-at-arms grinned since the King's back was turned to them.

`Give me my sword!' shouted the King, finding his voice, but forgetting his plural.

`Give us your crown!' said Giles: a staggering remark, such as had never before been heard in all the days of the Middle Kingdom.

`Lightning of Heaven! Seize him and bind him!' cried the King, justly enraged beyond bearing. `What do you hang back for? Seize him or slay him!'

The men-at-arms strode forward.