“My lord Prince,” said the head, “be not so hard in my evil hour.”
“Sing, Miserable,” said the Prince of the Stones, “sing, ’tis the hour of the reckoning.”
“Ah,” said the head, weeping, “I will sing, since you are my master.”
The Song of the Head
And the head sang the faery song.
And suddenly there spread abroad in the air a smell of cinnamon, frankincense, and sweet marjoram.
And the sixteen virgins, hearing the song, came down from the gallows and drew near to the body of Halewyn.
And Magtelt, crossing herself, watched them pass, but felt no fear.
And the first virgin, who was the daughter of the poor simpleton, Claes the Dog-beater, took the golden sickle, and cutting into the breast of the Miserable below the left nipple drew out a great ruby, and put this on her wound, where it melted into rich red blood in her breast.