Canto XXI

He does not know how long he walked ahead
But he does know the longer he had sped
His way, the darker it grew all around,
Until he could not see at all, he found.

"Did night set in? Did I my eyesight lose?
What can it be?" John with himself would muse,
It was not night, he did not lose his sight,
But he had reached the 'land which knew no light.
The land of darkness, where no sun, no star
Shines in the sky. Howe'er this does not bar
John's progress. Carefully he step by step
Goes forward. Now and then a whir and flap

He hears o'erhead, such as by birdflight made.
No cleaving wings the cause. That land of shade
Had been the witches' home since God knows when!
On broomsticks riding they come to their den.

The witches were to hold a parliament,
At midnight falleth due the great event.
The dark land's capital contains their lair,
Where they assemble now from everywhere.

A deep cave is the witches' meeting place.
Within the cave a big fire was ablaze.
The opening of a door betrayed the light,
To go towards it John thought is but right.

Most carefully, on tiptoes he drew nigh,
Peeped through a keyhole and tried to espy
What's going on within that cave. He saw
Things which a less brave man would fill with awe.

Of mean old witches a great number's there.
A curious concoction they prepare:
A-boiling frogs, mice, rats and human bone,
Snakes, tales of cats, grass 'neath the gallows grown.

But who could tell it all what John had seen?
It dawned at once on him: this devilish scene
Must end. While in his mind the means he sought
To do it with, there came to him a thought.

He tried to take out from his bag the reed,
With w'hich the giants to call he does now need.
By chance he knocked his hands against a thing —
What could it be? he was considering.
He found it was a pile of brooms on which
Had come a-riding through the air each witch.
He grabbed the brooms and hid them far away, —
A witch without her broom is lost for aye.

Then to the cave came back and blew the reed.
The call his giant vassals promptly heed.
"Thank you my lads! Now break into this hole,
Kill all you find in there, save not a soul!"

There was a hoydido within that cave,
The witches shriek and tried themselves to save.
They seek their brooms, — by flight to reach the

air-
Without their brooms they knew death is their

share.

The giants did as they were bid, each man
Got hold of one witch as for life she ran,
With wrothful ire her to the ground does throw,
Her corpse spreads out as spreads a baker's dough.

A thing remarkable occurred. Whene'er
A witch was killed, the darkness of the air
Would yield to light and with each deathly blow
The day would bright and always brighter grow.

The air with almost noonday's light was filled,
The very last witch still was to be killed, —
Our John in her that witch encountereth,
The stepmother who drove his love to death.

"Tis I" — cried John — "through whom her mean

life ends!"
And 'boldly takes her from a giants hands.
She slips however from his hold and lo!
She runs away; and though by no means slow,

Her fight is vain. "Swift as the wind" — John cries —
"Run after her and see that she too dies."
His word is law, she soon 's caught by her hair,
With mighty force is thrown high into air.

And thus the old hag's dead body was found
Near John's old home where it fell to the ground.
As all men hated her without restraint
Not e'en the crows would croak for her a plaint.

The land of darkness changed to one of light,
Bright sunshine followed everlasting night.
A bonfire to be lit was caused by John
And all the witches brooms were burned thereon.

Then to his giant friends he bids good-bye,
Appeals to them his hopes to justify;
They promise him his orders to obey,
And he and they then went upon their way.