loathly

"Plain clothes?" I sighed, following the sartorial train of thought, even to the loathly arrows that had decorated my person once already for a little aeon.

For if you have not, you shall come back from loathly Hades and live with me and your father, the dark-clouded Son of Cronos and be honoured by all the deathless gods; but if you have tasted food, you must go back again beneath the secret places of the earth, there to dwell a third part of the seasons every year: yet for the two parts you shall be with me and the other deathless gods.

Every article of furniture, from the chairs that came into the world with me and have worn so much better, though I was new and they were second-hand, to the mantle-border of fashionable design which she sewed in her seventieth year, having picked up the stitch in half a lesson, has its story of fight and attainment for her, hence her satisfaction; but she sighs at sight of her son, dipping and tearing, and chewing the loathly pen.

More often, in early examples, the human protagonist marries a god, sprite, or loathly lady.

This 'loathly lady', as Augusta mentally describes her, gains the Englishwoman's sympathy and trust by telling her own story in yet a third retrospective narrative.

Ragnall, one of the many archetypes of the sovereignty, bestowing goddess of the land, appears as a hideous, loathly lady who tricks Arthur into promising her the person of Sir Gawain in marriage in return for a favor.

The earliest appearance of the loathly lady motif comes in the figure of the Irish Sovranty Hag, an imbroglio of cultural ideas about political power contestation, in which gender roles are loosened, dissolved, and resolved.

The place of women's literature on the side of magic allots them with many shapes (Saunders 2007: 39-40), either as witches, such as Morgan Le Fay, monsters, such as Melusine from the Romans of Partenay de Lusingen, eerie lovers like the fairy Tryamour of Sir Launfal, (11) or shape-shifting loathly ladies such as Dame Ragnelle.

Therewith she spewd out other filthie maw A floud of poison horrible and blacke, Full of great lumps of flesh and gobbets raw, Which stunck so vildly, that it forst him slacke, His grasping hold, and from her turne him backe: Her vomit full of bookes and papers was, With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lack, And creeping sought way in the weedy gras: Her filthie parbreake all the place defiled has.