{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_4926/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_4926","id":"gutenberg_4926","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4926","summary":null,"tags":["Arthur, King -- Legends","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Celts -- Folklore","Chivalry"],"text":"Robert Rowe, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.\n\n\n\nBULFINCH'S MYTHOLOGY\n\nTHE AGE OF FABLE\n\nTHE AGE OF CHIVALRY\n\nLEGENDS OF CHARLEMAGNE\n\nBY THOMAS BULFINCH\n\nCOMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME\n\n\n[Editor's Note: The etext contains only THE AGE OF CHIVALRY]\n\n\n\n\n\nPUBLISHERS' PREFACE\n\n\nNo new edition of Bulfinch's classic work can be considered\ncomplete without some notice of the American scholar to whose wide\nerudition and painstaking care it stands as a perpetual monument.\n\"The Age of Fable\" has come to be ranked with older books like\n\"Pilgrim's Progress,\" \"Gulliver's Travels,\" \"The Arabian Nights,\"\n\"Robinson Crusoe,\" and five or six other productions of world-wide\nrenown as a work with which every one must claim some acquaintance\nbefore his education can be called really complete. Many readers\nof the present edition will probably recall coming in contact with\nthe work as children, and, it may be added, will no doubt discover\nfrom a fresh perusal the source of numerous bits of knowledge that\nhave remained stored in their minds since those early years. Yet\nto the majority of this great circle of readers and students the\nname Bulfinch in itself has no significance.\n\nThomas Bulfinch was a native of Boston, Mass., where he was born\nin 1796. His boyhood was spent in that city, and he prepared for\ncollege in the Boston schools. He finished his scholastic training\nat Harvard College, and after taking his degree was for a period a\nteacher in his home city. For a long time later in life he was\nemployed as an accountant in the Boston Merchants' Bank. His\nleisure time he used for further pursuit of the classical studies\nwhich he had begun at Harvard, and his chief pleasure in life lay\nin writing out the results of his reading, in simple, condensed\nform for young or busy readers. The plan he followed in this work,\nto give it the greatest possible usefulness, is set forth in the\nAuthor's Preface.\n\n\"Age of Fable,\" First Edition, 1855; \"The Age of Chivalry,\" 1858;\n\"The Boy Inventor,\" 1860; \"Legends of Charlemagne, or Romance of\nthe Middle Ages,\" 1863; \"Poetry of the Age of Fable,\" 1863;\n\"Oregon and Eldorado, or Romance of the Rivers,\"1860.\n\nIn this complete edition of his mythological and legendary lore\n\"The Age of Fable,\" \"The Age of Chivalry,\" and \"Legends of\nCharlemagne\" are included. Scrupulous care has been taken to\nfollow the original text of Bulfinch, but attention should be\ncalled to some additional sections which have been inserted to add\nto the rounded completeness of the work, and which the publishers\nbelieve would meet with the sanction of the author himself, as in\nno way intruding upon his original plan but simply carrying it out\nin more complete detail. The section on Northern Mythology has\nbeen enlarged by a retelling of the epic of the \"Nibelungen Lied,\"\ntogether with a summary of Wagner's version of the legend in his\nseries of music-dramas. Under the head of \"Hero Myths of the\nBritish Race\" have been included outlines of the stories of\nBeowulf, Cuchulain, Hereward the Wake, and Robin Hood. Of the\nverse extracts which occur throughout the text, thirty or more\nhave been added from literature which has appeared since\nBulfinch's time, extracts that he would have been likely to quote\nhad he personally supervised the new edition.\n\nFinally, the index has been thoroughly overhauled and, indeed,\nremade. All the proper names in the work have been entered, with\nreferences to the pages where they occur, and a concise\nexplanation or definition of each has been given. Thus what was a\nmere list of names in the original has been enlarged into a small\nclassical and mythological dictionary, which it is hoped will\nprove valuable for reference purposes not necessarily connected\nwith \"The Age of Fable.\"\n\nAcknowledgments are due the writings of Dr. Oliver Huckel for\ninformation on the point of Wagner's rendering of the Nibelungen\nlegend, and M. I. Ebbutt's authoritative volume on \"Hero Myths and\nLegends of the British Race,\" from which much of the information\nconcerning the British heroes has been obtained\n\n\n\n\n\nAUTHOR'S PREFACE\n\n\nIf no other knowledge deserves to be called useful but that which\nhelps to enlarge our possessions or to raise our station in\nsociety, then Mythology has no claim to the appellation. But if\nthat which tends to make us happier and better can be called\nuseful, then we claim that epithet for our subject. For Mythology\nis the handmaid of literature; and literature is one of the best\nallies of virtue and promoters of happiness.\n\nWithout a knowledge of mythology much of the elegant literature of\nour own language cannot be understood and appreciated. When Byron\ncalls Rome \"the Niobe of nations,\" or says of Venice, \"She looks a\nSea-Cybele fresh from ocean,\" he calls up to the mind of one\nfamiliar with our subject, illustrations more vivid and striking\nthan the pencil could furnish, but which are lost to the reader\nignorant of mythology. Milton abounds in similar allusions. The\nshort poem \"Comus\" contains more than thirty such, and the ode \"On\nthe Morning of the Nativity\" half as many. Through \"Paradise Lost\"\nthey are scattered profusely. This is one reason why we often hear\npersons by no means illiterate say that they cannot enjoy Milton.\nBut were these persons to add to their more solid acquirements the\neasy learning of this little volume, much of the poetry of Milton\nwhich has appeared to them \"harsh and crabbed\" would be found\n\"musical as is Apollo's lute.\" Our citations, taken from more than\ntwenty-five poets, from Spenser to Longfellow, will show how\ngeneral has been the practice of borrowing illustrations from\nmythology.\n\nThe prose writers also avail themselves of the same source of\nelegant and suggestive illustration. One can hardly take up a\nnumber of the \"Edinburgh\" or \"Quarterly Review\" without meeting\nwith instances. In Macaulay's article on Milton there are twenty\nsuch.\n\nBut how is mythology to be taught to one who does not learn it\nthrough the medium of the languages of Greece and Rome? To devote\nstudy to a species of learning which relates wholly to false\nmarvels and obsolete faiths is not to be expected of the general\nreader in a practical age like this. The time even of the young is\nclaimed by so many sciences of facts and things that little can be\nspared for set treatises on a science of mere fancy.\n\nBut may not the requisite knowledge of the subject be acquired by\nreading the ancient poets in translations? We reply, the field is\ntoo extensive for a preparatory course; and these very\ntranslations require some previous knowledge of the subject to\nmake them intelligible. Let any one who doubts it read the first\npage of the \"Aeneid,\" and see what he can make of \"the hatred of\nJuno,\" the \"decree of the Parcae,\" the \"judgment of Paris,\" and\nthe \"honors of Ganymede,\" without this knowledge.\n\nShall we be told that answers to such queries may be found in\nnotes, or by a reference to the Classical Dictionary? We reply,\nthe interruption of one's reading by either process is so annoying\nthat most readers prefer to let an allusion pass unapprehended\nrather than submit to it. Moreover, such sources give us only the\ndry facts without any of the charm of the original narrative; and\nwhat is a poetical myth when stripped of its poetry? The story of\nCeyx and Halcyone, which fills a chapter in our book, occupies but\neight lines in the best (Smith's) Classical Dictionary; and so of\nothers.\n\nOur work is an attempt to solve this problem, by telling the\nstories of mythology in such a manner as to make them a source of\namusement. We have endeavored to tell them correctly, according to\nthe ancient authorities, so that when the reader finds them\nreferred to he may not be at a loss to recognize the reference.\nThus we hope to teach mythology not as a study, but as a\nrelaxation from study; to give our work the charm of a story-book,\nyet by means of it to impart a knowledge of an important branch of\neducation. The index at the end will adapt it to the purposes of\nreference, and make it a Classical Dictionary for the parlor.\n\nMost of the classical legends in \"Stories of Gods and Heroes\" are\nderived from Ovid and Virgil. They are not literally translated,\nfor, in the author's opinion, poetry translated into literal prose\nis very unattractive reading. Neither are they in verse, as well\nfor other reasons as from a conviction that to translate\nfaithfully under all the embarrassments of rhyme and measure is\nimpossible. The attempt has been made to tell the stories in\nprose, preserving so much of the poetry as resides in the thoughts\nand is separable from the language itself, and omitting those\namplifications which are not suited to the altered form.\n\nThe Northern mythological stories are copied with some abridgment\nfrom Mallet's \"Northern Antiquities.\" These chapters, with those\non Oriental and Egyptian mythology, seemed necessary to complete\nthe subject, though it is believed these topics have not usually\nbeen presented in the same volume with the classical fables.\n\nThe poetical citations so freely introduced are expected to answer\nseveral valuable purposes. They will tend to fix in memory the\nleading fact of each story, they will help to the attainment of a\ncorrect pronunciation of the proper names, and they will enrich\nthe memory with many gems of poetry, some of them such as are most\nfrequently quoted or alluded to in reading and conversation.\n\nHaving chosen mythology as connected with literature for our\nprovince, we have endeavored to omit nothing which the reader of\nelegant literature is likely to find occasion for. Such stories\nand parts of stories as are offensive to pure taste and good\nmorals are not given. But such stories are not often referred to,\nand if they occasionally should be, the English reader need feel\nno mortification in confessing his ignorance of them.\n\nOur work is not for the learned, nor for the theologian, nor for\nthe philosopher, but for the reader of English literature, of\neither sex, who wishes to comprehend the allusions so frequently\nmade by public speakers, lecturers, essayists, and poets, and\nthose which occur in polite conversation.\n\nIn the \"Stories of Gods and Heroes\" the compiler has endeavored to\nimpart the pleasures of classical learning to the English reader,\nby presenting the stories of Pagan mythology in a form adapted to\nmodern taste. In \"King Arthur and His Knights\" and \"The\nMabinogeon\" the attempt has been made to treat in the same way the\nstories of the second \"age of fable,\" the age which witnessed the\ndawn of the several states of Modern Europe.\n\nIt is believed that this presentation of a literature which held\nunrivalled sway over the imaginations of our ancestors, for many\ncenturies, will not be without benefit to the reader, in addition\nto the amusement it may afford. The tales, though not to be\ntrusted for their facts, are worthy of all credit as pictures of\nmanners; and it is beginning to be held that the manners and modes\nof thinking of an age are a more important part of its history\nthan the conflicts of its peoples, generally leading to no result.\nBesides this, the literature of romance is a treasure-house of\npoetical material, to which modern poets frequently resort. The\nItalian poets, Dante and Ariosto, the English, Spenser, Scott, and\nTennyson, and our own Longfellow and Lowell, are examples of this.\n\nThese legends are so connected with each other, so consistently\nadapted to a group of characters strongly individualized in\nArthur, Launcelot, and their compeers, and so lighted up by the\nfires of imagination and invention, that they seem as well adapted\nto the poet's purpose as the legends of the Greek and Roman\nmythology. And if every well-educated young person is expected to\nknow the story of the Golden Fleece, why is the quest of the\nSangreal less worthy of his acquaintance? Or if an allusion to the\nshield of Achilles ought not to pass unapprehended, why should one\nto Excalibar, the famous sword of Arthur?--\n\n    \"Of Arthur, who, to upper light restored,\n     With that terrific sword,\n     Which yet he brandishes for future war,\n     Shall lift his country's fame above the polar star.\"\n\n[Footnote: Wordsworth]\n\nIt is an additional recommendation of our subject, that it tends\nto cherish in our minds the idea of the source from which we\nsprung. We are entitled to our full share in the glories and\nrecollections of the land of our forefathers, down to the time of\ncolonization thence. The associations which spring from this\nsource must be fruitful of good influences; among which not the\nleast valuable is the increased enjoyment which such associations\nafford to the American traveller when he visits England, and sets\nhis foot upon any of her renowned localities.\n\nThe legends of Charlemagne and his peers are necessary to complete\nthe subject.\n\nIn an age when intellectual darkness enveloped Western Europe, a\nconstellation of brilliant writers arose in Italy. Of these, Pulci\n(born in 1432), Boiardo (1434), and Ariosto (1474) took for their\nsubjects the romantic fables which had for many ages been\ntransmitted in the lays of bards and the legends of monkish\nchroniclers. These fables they arranged in order, adorned with the\nembellishments of fancy, amplified from their own invention, and\nstamped with immortality. It may safely be asserted that as long\nas civilization shall endure these productions will retain their\nplace among the most cherished creations of human genius.\n\nIn \"Stories of Gods and Heroes,\" \"King Arthur and His Knights\" and\n\"The Mabinogeon\" the aim has been to supply to the modern reader\nsuch knowledge of the fables of classical and mediaeval literature\nas is needed to render intelligible the allusions which occur in\nreading and conversation. The \"Legends of Charlemagne\" is intended\nto carry out the same design. Like the earlier portions of the\nwork, it aspires to a higher character than that of a piece of\nmere amusement. It claims to be useful, in acquainting its readers\nwith the subjects of the productions of the great poets of Italy.\nSome knowledge of these is expected of every well-educated young\nperson.\n\nIn reading these romances, we cannot fail to observe how the\nprimitive inventions have been used, again and again, by\nsuccessive generations of fabulists. The Siren of Ulysses is the\nprototype of the Siren of Orlando, and the character of Circe\nreappears in Alcina. The fountains of Love and Hatred may be\ntraced to the story of Cupid and Psyche; and similar effects\nproduced by a magic draught appear in the tale of Tristram and\nIsoude, and, substituting a flower for the draught, in\nShakspeare's \"Midsummer Night's Dream.\" There are many other\ninstances of the same kind which the reader will recognize without\nour assistance.\n\nThe sources whence we derive these stories are, first, the Italian\npoets named above; next, the \"Romans de Chevalerie\" of the Comte\nde Tressan; lastly, certain German collections of popular tales.\nSome chapters have been borrowed from Leigh Hunt's Translations\nfrom the Italian Poets. It seemed unnecessary to do over again\nwhat he had already done so well; yet, on the other hand, those\nstories could not be omitted from the series without leaving it\nincomplete.\n\nTHOMAS BULFINCH.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nKING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS\n\n\n    I. Introduction\n   II. The Mythical History of England\n  III. Merlin\n   IV. Arthur\n    V. Arthur (Continued)\n   VI. Sir Gawain\n  VII. Caradoc Briefbras; or, Caradoc with the Shrunken Arm\n VIII. Launcelot of the Lake\n   IX. The Adventure of the Cart\n    X. The Lady of Shalott\n   XI. Queen Guenever's Peril\n  XII. Tristram and Isoude\n XIII. Tristram and Isoude (Continued)\n  XIV. Sir Tristram's Battle with Sir Launcelot\n   XV. The Round Table\n  XVI. Sir Palamedes\n XVII. Sir Tristram\nXVIII. Perceval\n  XIX. The Sangreal, or Holy Graal\n   XX. The Sangreal (Continued)\n  XXI. The Sangreal (Continued)\n XXII. Sir Agrivain's Treason\nXXIII. Morte d'Arthur\n\n\nTHE MABINOGEON\n\n\n      Introductory Note\n   I. The Britons\n  II. The Lady of the Fountain\n III. The Lady of the Fountain (Continued)\n  IV. The Lady of the Fountain (Continued)\n   V. Geraint, the Son of Erbin\n  VI. Geraint, the Son of Erbin (Continued)\n VII. Geraint, the Son of Erbin (Continued)\nVIII. Pwyll, Prince of Dyved\n  IX. Branwen, the Daughter of Llyr\n   X. Manawyddan\n  XI. Kilwich and Olwen\n XII. Kilwich and Olwen (Continued)\nXIII. Taliesin\n\n\nHERO MYTHS OF THE BRITISH RACE\n\n\nBeowulf\nCuchulain, Champion of Ireland\nHereward the Wake\nRobin Hood\n\nGLOSSARY\n\n\n\n\n\nKING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nOn the decline of the Roman power, about five centuries after\nChrist, the countries of Northern Europe were left almost\ndestitute of a national government. Numerous chiefs, more or less\npowerful, held local sway, as far as each could enforce his\ndominion, and occasionally those chiefs would unite for a common\nobject; but, in ordinary times, they were much more likely to be\nfound in hostility to one another. In such a state of things the\nrights of the humbler classes of society were at the mercy of\nevery assailant; and it is plain that, without some check upon the\nlawless power of the chiefs, society must have relapsed into\nbarbarism. Such checks were found, first, in the rivalry of the\nchiefs themselves, whose mutual jealousy made them restraints upon\none another; secondly, in the influence of the Church, which, by\nevery motive, pure or selfish, was pledged to interpose for the\nprotection of the weak; and lastly, in the generosity and sense of\nright which, however crushed under the weight of passion and\nselfishness, dwell naturally in the heart of man. From this last\nsource sprang Chivalry, which framed an ideal of the heroic\ncharacter, combining invincible strength and valor, justice,\nmodesty, loyalty to superiors, courtesy to equals, compassion to\nweakness, and devotedness to the Church; an ideal which, if never\nmet with in real life, was acknowledged by all as the highest\nmodel for emulation.\n\nThe word \"Chivalry\" is derived from the French \"cheval,\" a horse.\nThe word \"knight,\" which originally meant boy or servant, was\nparticularly applied to a young man after he was admitted to the\nprivilege of bearing arms. This privilege was conferred on youths\nof family and fortune only, for the mass of the people were not\nfurnished with arms. The knight then was a mounted warrior, a man\nof rank, or in the service and maintenance of some man of rank,\ngenerally possessing some independent means of support, but often\nrelying mainly on the gratitude of those whom he served for the\nsupply of his wants, and often, no doubt, resorting to the means\nwhich power confers on its possessor.\n\nIn time of war the knight was, with his followers, in the camp of\nhis sovereign, or commanding in the field, or holding some castle\nfor him. In time of peace he was often in attendance at his\nsovereign's court, gracing with his presence the banquets and\ntournaments with which princes cheered their leisure. Or he was\ntraversing the country in quest of adventure, professedly bent on\nredressing wrongs and enforcing rights, sometimes in fulfilment of\nsome vow of religion or of love. These wandering knights were\ncalled knights-errant; they were welcome guests in the castles of\nthe nobility, for their presence enlivened the dulness of those\nsecluded abodes, and they were received with honor at the abbeys,\nwhich often owed the best part of their revenues to the patronage\nof the knights; but if no castle or abbey or hermitage were at\nhand their hardy habits made it not intolerable to them to lie\ndown, supperless, at the foot of some wayside cross, and pass the\nnight.\n\nIt is evident that the justice administered by such an\ninstrumentality must have been of the rudest description. The\nforce whose legitimate purpose was to redress wrongs might easily\nbe perverted to inflict them Accordingly, we find in the romances,\nwhich, however fabulous in facts, are true as pictures of manners,\nthat a knightly castle was often a terror to the surrounding\ncountry; that is, dungeons were full of oppressed knights and\nladies, waiting for some champion to appear to set them free, or\nto be ransomed with money; that hosts of idle retainers were ever\nat hand to enforce their lord's behests, regardless of law and\njustice; and that the rights of the unarmed multitude were of no\naccount. This contrariety of fact and theory in regard to chivalry\nwill account for the opposite impressions which exist in men's\nminds respecting it. While it has been the theme of the most\nfervid eulogium on the one part, it has been as eagerly denounced\non the other. On a cool estimate, we cannot but see reason to\ncongratulate ourselves that it has given way in modern times to\nthe reign of law, and that the civil magistrate, if less\npicturesque, has taken the place of the mailed champion.\n\nTHE TRAINING OF A KNIGHT\n\nThe preparatory education of candidates for knighthood was long\nand arduous. At seven years of age the noble children were usually\nremoved from their father's house to the court or castle of their\nfuture patron, and placed under the care of a governor, who taught\nthem the first articles of religion, and respect and reverence for\ntheir lords and superiors, and initiated them in the ceremonies of\na court. They were called pages, valets, or varlets, and their\noffice was to carve, to wait at table, and to perform other menial\nservices, which were not then considered humiliating. In their\nleisure hours they learned to dance and play on the harp, were\ninstructed in the mysteries of woods and rivers, that is, in\nhunting, falconry, and fishing, and in wrestling, tilting with\nspears, and performing other military exercises on horseback. At\nfourteen the page became an esquire, and began a course of severer\nand more laborious exercises. To vault on a horse in heavy armor;\nto run, to scale walls, and spring over ditches, under the same\nencumbrance; to wrestle, to wield the battle-axe for a length of\ntime, without raising the visor or taking breath; to perform with\ngrace all the evolutions of horsemanship,--were necessary\npreliminaries to the reception of knighthood, which was usually\nconferred at twenty-one years of age, when the young man's\neducation was supposed to be completed. In the meantime, the\nesquires were no less assiduously engaged in acquiring all those\nrefinements of civility which formed what was in that age called\ncourtesy. The same castle in which they received their education\nwas usually thronged with young persons of the other sex, and the\npage was encouraged, at a very early age, to select some lady of\nthe court as the mistress of his heart, to whom he was taught to\nrefer all his sentiments, words, and actions. The service of his\nmistress was the glory and occupation of a knight, and her smiles,\nbestowed at once by affection and gratitude, were held out as the\nrecompense of his well-directed valor. Religion united its\ninfluence with those of loyalty and love, and the order of\nknighthood, endowed with all the sanctity and religious awe that\nattended the priesthood, became an object of ambition to the\ngreatest sovereigns.\n\nThe ceremonies of initiation were peculiarly solemn. After\nundergoing a severe fast, and spending whole nights in prayer, the\ncandidate confessed, and received the sacrament. He then clothed\nhimself in snow-white garments, and repaired to the church, or the\nhall, where the ceremony was to take place, bearing a knightly\nsword suspended from his neck, which the officiating priest took\nand blessed, and then returned to him. The candidate then, with\nfolded arms, knelt before the presiding knight, who, after some\nquestions about his motives and purposes in requesting admission,\nadministered to him the oaths, and granted his request. Some of\nthe knights present, sometimes even ladies and damsels, handed to\nhim in succession the spurs, the coat of mail, the hauberk, the\narmlet and gauntlet, and lastly he girded on the sword. He then\nknelt again before the president, who, rising from his seat, gave\nhim the \"accolade,\" which consisted of three strokes, with the\nflat of a sword, on the shoulder or neck of the candidate,\naccompanied by the words: \"In the name of God, of St. Michael, and\nSt. George, I make thee a knight; be valiant, courteous, and\nloyal!\" Then he received his helmet, his shield, and spear; and\nthus the investiture ended.\n\nFREEMEN, VILLAINS, SERFS, AND CLERKS\n\nThe other classes of which society was composed were, first,\nFREEMEN, owners of small portions of land independent, though they\nsometimes voluntarily became the vassals of their more opulent\nneighbors, whose power was necessary for their protection. The\nother two classes, which were much the most numerous, were either\nserfs or villains, both of which were slaves.\n\nThe SERFS were in the lowest state of slavery. All the fruits of\ntheir labor belonged to the master whose land they tilled, and by\nwhom they were fed and clothed.\n\nThe VILLIANS were less degraded. Their situation seems to have\nresembled that of the Russian peasants at this day. Like the\nserfs, they were attached to the soil, and were transferred with\nit by purchase; but they paid only a fixed rent to the landlord,\nand had a right to dispose of any surplus that might arise from\ntheir industry.\n\nThe term \"clerk\" was of very extensive import. It comprehended,\noriginally, such persons only as belonged to the clergy, or\nclerical order, among whom, however, might be found a multitude of\nmarried persons, artisans or others. But in process of time a much\nwider rule was established; every one that could read being\naccounted a clerk or clericus, and allowed the \"benefit of\nclergy,\" that is, exemption from capital and some other forms of\npunishment, in case of crime.\n\nTOURNAMENTS\n\nThe splendid pageant of a tournament between knights, its gaudy\naccessories and trappings, and its chivalrous regulations,\noriginated in France. Tournaments were repeatedly condemned by the\nChurch, probably on account of the quarrels they led to, and the\noften fatal results. The \"joust,\" or \"just,\" was different from\nthe tournament. In these, knights fought with their lances, and\ntheir object was to unhorse their antagonists; while the\ntournaments were intended for a display of skill and address in\nevolutions, and with various weapons, and greater courtesy was\nobserved in the regulations. By these it was forbidden to wound\nthe horse, or to use the point of the sword, or to strike a knight\nafter he had raised his vizor, or unlaced his helmet. The ladies\nencouraged their knights in these exercises; they bestowed prizes,\nand the conqueror's feats were the theme of romance and song. The\nstands overlooking the ground, of course, were varied in the\nshapes of towers, terraces, galleries, and pensile gardens,\nmagnificently decorated with tapestry, pavilions, and banners.\nEvery combatant proclaimed the name of the lady whose servant\nd'amour he was. He was wont to look up to the stand, and\nstrengthen his courage by the sight of the bright eyes that were\nraining their influence on him from above. The knights also\ncarried FAVORS, consisting of scarfs, veils, sleeves, bracelets,\nclasps,--in short, some piece of female habiliment,--attached to\ntheir helmets, shields, or armor. If, during the combat, any of\nthese appendages were dropped or lost the fair donor would at\ntimes send her knight new ones, especially if pleased with his\nexertions.\n\nMAIL ARMOR\n\nMail armor, of which the hauberk is a species, and which derived\nits name from maille, a French word for MESH, was of two kinds,\nPLATE or SCALE mail, and CHAIN mail. It was originally used for\nthe protection of the body only, reaching no lower than the knees.\nIt was shaped like a carter's frock, and bound round the waist by\na girdle. Gloves and hose of mail were afterwards added, and a\nhood, which, when necessary, was drawn over the head, leaving the\nface alone uncovered. To protect the skin from the impression of\nthe iron network of the chain mail, a quilted lining was employed,\nwhich, however, was insufficient, and the bath was used to efface\nthe marks of the armor.\n\nThe hauberk was a complete covering of double chain mail. Some\nhauberks opened before, like a modern coat; others were closed\nlike a shirt.\n\nThe chain mail of which they were composed was formed by a number\nof iron links, each link having others inserted into it, the whole\nexhibiting a kind of network, of which (in some instances at\nleast) the meshes were circular, with each link separately\nriveted.\n\nThe hauberk was proof against the most violent blow of a sword;\nbut the point of a lance might pass through the meshes, or drive\nthe iron into the flesh. To guard against this, a thick and well-\nstuffed doublet was worn underneath, under which was commonly\nadded an iron breastplate. Hence the expression \"to pierce both\nplate and mail,\" so common in the earlier poets.\n\nMail armor continued in general use till about the year 1300, when\nit was gradually supplanted by plate armor, or suits consisting of\npieces or plates of solid iron, adapted to the different parts of\nthe body.\n\nShields were generally made of wood, covered with leather, or some\nsimilar substance. To secure them, in some sort, from being cut\nthrough by the sword, they were surrounded with a hoop of metal.\n\nHELMETS\n\nThe helmet was composed of two parts: the HEADPIECE, which was\nstrengthened within by several circles of iron, and the VISOR,\nwhich, as the name implies, was a sort of grating to see through,\nso contrived as, by sliding in a groove, or turning on a pivot, to\nbe raised or lowered at pleasure. Some helmets had a further\nimprovement called a BEVER, from the Italian bevere, to drink. The\nVENTAYLE, or \"air-passage,\" is another name for this.\n\nTo secure the helmet from the possibility of falling, or of being\nstruck off, it was tied by several laces to the meshes of the\nhauberk; consequently, when a knight was overthrown it was\nnecessary to undo these laces before he could be put to death;\nthough this was sometimes effected by lifting up the skirt of the\nhauberk, and stabbing him in the belly. The instrument of death\nwas a small dagger, worn on the right side.\n\nROMANCES\n\nIn ages when there were no books, when noblemen and princes\nthemselves could not read, history or tradition was monopolized by\nthe story-tellers. They inherited, generation after generation,\nthe wondrous tales of their predecessors, which they retailed to\nthe public with such additions of their own as their acquired\ninformation supplied them with. Anachronisms became of course very\ncommon, and errors of geography, of locality, of manners, equally\nso. Spurious genealogies were invented, in which Arthur and his\nknights, and Charlemagne and his paladins, were made to derive\ntheir descent from Aeneas, Hector, or some other of the Trojan\nheroes.\n\nWith regard to the derivation of the word \"Romance,\" we trace it\nto the fact that the dialects which were formed in Western Europe,\nfrom the admixture of Latin with the native languages, took the\nname of Langue Romaine. The French language was divided into two\ndialects. The river Loire was their common boundary. In the\nprovinces to the south of that river the affirmative, YES, was\nexpressed by the word oc; in the north it was called oil (oui);\nand hence Dante has named the southern language langue d'oc, and\nthe northern langue d'oil. The latter, which was carried into\nEngland by the Normans, and is the origin of the present French,\nmay be called the French Romane; and the former the Provencal, or\nProvencial Romane, because it was spoken by the people of Provence\nand Languedoc, southern provinces of France.\n\nThese dialects were soon distinguished by very opposite\ncharacters. A soft and enervating climate, a spirit of commerce\nencouraged by an easy communication with other maritime nations,\nthe influx of wealth, and a more settled government, may have\ntended to polish and soften the diction of the Provencials, whose\npoets, under the name of Troubadours, were the masters of the\nItalians, and particularly of Petrarch. Their favorite pieces were\nSirventes (satirical pieces), love-songs, and Tensons, which last\nwere a sort of dialogue in verse between two poets, who questioned\neach other on some refined points of loves' casuistry. It seems\nthe Provencials were so completely absorbed in these delicate\nquestions as to neglect and despise the composition of fabulous\nhistories of adventure and knighthood, which they left in a great\nmeasure to the poets of the northern part of the kingdom, called\nTrouveurs.\n\nAt a time when chivalry excited universal admiration, and when all\nthe efforts of that chivalry were directed against the enemies of\nreligion, it was natural that literature should receive the same\nimpulse, and that history and fable should be ransacked to furnish\nexamples of courage and piety that might excite increased\nemulation. Arthur and Charlemagne were the two heroes selected for\nthis purpose. Arthur's pretensions were that he was a brave,\nthough not always a successful warrior; he had withstood with\ngreat resolution the arms of the infidels, that is to say of the\nSaxons, and his memory was held in the highest estimation by his\ncountrymen, the Britons, who carried with them into Wales, and\ninto the kindred country of Armorica, or Brittany, the memory of\nhis exploits, which their national vanity insensibly exaggerated,\ntill the little prince of the Silures (South Wales) was magnified\ninto the conqueror of England, of Gaul, and of the greater part of\nEurope. His genealogy was gradually carried up to an imaginary\nBrutus, and to the period of the Trojan war, and a sort of\nchronicle was composed in the Welsh, or Armorican language, which,\nunder the pompous title of the \"History of the Kings of Britain,\"\nwas translated into Latin by Geoffrey of Monmouth, about the year\n1150. The Welsh critics consider the material of the work to have\nbeen an older history, written by St. Talian, Bishop of St. Asaph,\nin the seventh century.\n\nAs to Charlemagne, though his real merits were sufficient to\nsecure his immortality, it was impossible that his HOLY WARS\nagainst the Saracens should not become a favorite topic for\nfiction. Accordingly, the fabulous history of these wars was\nwritten, probably towards the close of the eleventh century, by a\nmonk, who, thinking it would add dignity to his work to embellish\nit with a contemporary name, boldly ascribed it to Turpin, who was\nArchbishop of Rheims about the year 773.\n\nThese fabulous chronicles were for a while imprisoned in languages\nof local only or of professional access. Both Turpin and Geoffrey\nmight indeed be read by ecclesiastics, the sole Latin scholars of\nthose times, and Geoffrey's British original would contribute to\nthe gratification of Welshmen; but neither could become\nextensively popular till translated into some language of general\nand familiar use. The Anglo-Saxon was at that time used only by a\nconquered and enslaved nation; the Spanish and Italian languages\nwere not yet formed; the Norman French alone was spoken and\nunderstood by the nobility in the greater part of Europe, and\ntherefore was a proper vehicle for the new mode of composition.\n\nThat language was fashionable in England before the Conquest, and\nbecame, after that event, the only language used at the court of\nLondon. As the various conquests of the Normans, and the\nenthusiastic valor of that extraordinary people, had familiarized\nthe minds of men with the most marvellous events, their poets\neagerly seized the fabulous legends of Arthur and Charlemagne,\ntranslated them into the language of the day, and soon produced a\nvariety of imitations. The adventures attributed to these\nmonarchs, and to their distinguished warriors, together with those\nof many other traditionary or imaginary heroes, composed by\ndegrees that formidable body of marvellous histories which, from\nthe dialect in which the most ancient of them were written, were\ncalled \"Romances.\"\n\nMETRICAL ROMANCES\n\nThe earliest form in which romances appear is that of a rude kind\nof verse. In this form it is supposed they were sung or recited at\nthe feasts of princes and knights in their baronial halls. The\nfollowing specimen of the language and style of Robert de\nBeauvais, who flourished in 1257, is from Sir Walter Scott's\n\"Introduction to the Romance of Sir Tristrem\":\n\n    \"Ne voil pas emmi dire,\n    Ici diverse la matyere,\n    Entre ceus qui solent cunter,\n    E de le cunte Tristran parler.\"\n\n    \"I will not say too much about it,\n    So diverse is the matter,\n    Among those who are in the habit of telling\n    And relating the story of Tristran.\"\n\nThis is a specimen of the language which was in use among the\nnobility of England, in the ages immediately after the Norman\nconquest. The following is a specimen of the English that existed\nat the same time, among the common people. Robert de Brunne,\nspeaking of his Latin and French authorities, says:\n\n    \"Als thai haf wryten and sayd\n    Haf I alle in myn Inglis layd,\n    In symple speche as I couthe,\n    That is lightest in manne's mouthe.\n    Alle for the luf of symple men,\n    That strange Inglis cannot ken.\"\n\nThe \"strange Inglis\" being the language of the previous specimen.\n\nIt was not till toward the end of the thirteenth century that the\nPROSE romances began to appear. These works generally began with\ndisowning and discrediting the sources from which in reality they\ndrew their sole information. As every romance was supposed to be a\nreal history, the compilers of those in prose would have forfeited\nall credit if they had announced themselves as mere copyists of\nthe minstrels. On the contrary, they usually state that, as the\npopular poems upon the matter in question contain many \"lesings,\"\nthey had been induced to translate the real and true history of\nsuch or such a knight from the original Latin or Greek, or from\nthe ancient British or Armorican authorities, which authorities\nexisted only in their own assertion.\n\nA specimen of the style of the prose romances may be found in the\nfollowing extract from one of the most celebrated and latest of\nthem, the \"Morte d'Arthur\" of Sir Thomas Mallory, of the date of\n1485. From this work much of the contents of this volume has been\ndrawn, with as close an adherence to the original style as was\nthought consistent with our plan of adapting our narrative to the\ntaste of modern readers.\n\n\"It is notoyrly knowen thorugh the vnyuersal world that there been\nix worthy and the best that ever were. That is to wete thre\npaynyms, three Jewes, and three crysten men. As for the paynyms,\nthey were tofore the Incarnacyon of Cryst whiche were named, the\nfyrst Hector of Troye; the second Alysaunder the grete, and the\nthyrd Julyus Cezar, Emperour of Rome, of whome thystoryes ben wel\nkno and had. And as for the thre Jewes whyche also were tofore\nthyncarnacyon of our Lord, of whome the fyrst was Duc Josue,\nwhyche brought the chyldren of Israhel into the londe of beheste;\nthe second Dauyd, kyng of Jherusalem, and the thyrd Judas\nMachabeus; of these thre the byble reherceth al theyr noble\nhystoryes and actes. And sythe the sayd Incarnacyon haue ben the\nnoble crysten men stalled and admytted thorugh the vnyuersal world\nto the nombre of the ix beste and worthy, of whome was fyrst the\nnoble Arthur, whose noble actes I purpose to wryte in this person\nbook here folowyng. The second was Charlemayn, or Charles the\ngrete, of whome thystorye is had in many places both in frensshe\nand englysshe, and the thyrd and last was Godefray of boloyn.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE MYTHICAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND\n\n\nThe illustrious poet, Milton, in his \"History of England,\" is the\nauthor whom we chiefly follow in this chapter.\n\nAccording to the earliest accounts, Albion, a giant, and son of\nNeptune, a contemporary of Hercules, ruled over the island, to\nwhich he gave his name. Presuming to oppose the progress of\nHercules in his western march, he was slain by him.\n\nAnother story is that Histion, the son of Japhet, the son of Noah,\nhad four sons, Francus, Romanus, Alemannus, and Britto, from whom\ndescended the French, Roman, German, and British people.\n\nRejecting these and other like stories, Milton gives more regard\nto the story of Brutus, the Trojan, which, he says, is supported\nby \"descents of ancestry long continued, laws and exploits not\nplainly seeming to be borrowed or devised, which on the common\nbelief have wrought no small impression; defended by many, denied\nutterly by few.\" The principal authority is Geoffrey of Monmouth,\nwhose history, written in the twelfth century, purports to be a\ntranslation of a history of Britain brought over from the opposite\nshore of France, which, under the name of Brittany, was chiefly\npeopled by natives of Britain who, from time to time, emigrated\nthither, driven from their own country by the inroads of the Picts\nand Scots. According to this authority, Brutus was the son of\nSilvius, and he of Ascanius, the son of Aeneas, whose flight from\nTroy and settlement in Italy are narrated in \"Stories of Gods and\nHeroes.\"\n\nBrutus, at the age of fifteen, attending his father to the chase,\nunfortunately killed him with an arrow. Banished therefor by his\nkindred, he sought refuge in that part of Greece where Helenus,\nwith a band of Trojan exiles, had become established. But Helenus\nwas now dead and the descendants of the Trojans were oppressed by\nPandrasus, the king of the country. Brutus, being kindly received\namong them, so throve in virtue and in arms as to win the regard\nof all the eminent of the land above all others of his age. In\nconsequence of this the Trojans not only began to hope, but\nsecretly to persuade him to lead them the way to liberty. To\nencourage them, they had the promise of help from Assaracus, a\nnoble Greek youth, whose mother was a Trojan. He had suffered\nwrong at the hands of the king, and for that reason the more\nwillingly cast in his lost with the Trojan exiles.\n\nChoosing a fit opportunity, Brutus with his countrymen withdrew to\nthe woods and hills, as the safest place from which to\nexpostulate, and sent this message to Pandrasus: \"That the\nTrojans, holding it unworthy of their ancestors to serve in a\nforeign land, had retreated to the woods, choosing rather a savage\nlife than a slavish one. If that displeased him, then, with his\nleave, they would depart to some other country.\" Pandrasus, not\nexpecting so bold a message from the sons of captives, went in\npursuit of them, with such forces as he could gather, and met them\non the banks of the Achelous, where Brutus got the advantage, and\ntook the king captive. The result was, that the terms demanded by\nthe Trojans were granted; the king gave his daughter Imogen in\nmarriage to Brutus, and furnished shipping, money, and fit\nprovision for them all to depart from the land.\n\nThe marriage being solemnized, and shipping from all parts got\ntogether, the Trojans, in a fleet of no less than three hundred\nand twenty sail, betook themselves to the sea. On the third day\nthey arrived at a certain island, which they found destitute of\ninhabitants, though there were appearances of former habitation,\nand among the ruins a temple of Diana. Brutus, here performing\nsacrifice at the shrine of the goddess, invoked an oracle for his\nguidance, in these lines:\n\n    \"Goddess of shades, and huntress, who at will\n    Walk'st on the rolling sphere, and through the deep;\n    On thy third realm, the earth, look now, and tell\n    What land, what seat of rest, thou bidd'st me seek;\n    What certain seat where I may worship thee\n    For aye, with temples vowed and virgin choirs.\"\n\nTo whom, sleeping before the altar, Diana in a vision thus\nanswered:\n\n    \"Brutus! far to the west, in the ocean wide,\n    Beyond the realm of Gaul, a land there lies,\n    Seagirt it lies, where giants dwelt of old;\n    Now, void, it fits thy people: thither bend\n    Thy course; there shalt thou find a lasting seat;\n    There to thy sons another Troy shall rise,\n    And kings be born of thee, whose dreaded might\n    Shall awe the world, and conquer nations bold\"\n\nBrutus, guided now, as he thought, by divine direction, sped his\ncourse towards the west, and, arriving at a place on the Tyrrhene\nsea, found there the descendants of certain Trojans who, with\nAntenor, came into Italy, of whom Corineus was the chief. These\njoined company, and the ships pursued their way till they arrived\nat the mouth of the river Loire, in France, where the expedition\nlanded, with a view to a settlement, but were so rudely assaulted\nby the inhabitants that they put to sea again, and arrived at a\npart of the coast of Britain, now called Devonshire, where Brutus\nfelt convinced that he had found the promised end of his voyage,\nlanded his colony, and took possession.\n\nThe island, not yet Britain, but Albion, was in a manner desert\nand inhospitable, occupied only by a remnant of the giant race\nwhose excessive force and tyranny had destroyed the others. The\nTrojans encountered these and extirpated them, Corineus, in\nparticular, signalizing himself by his exploits against them; from\nwhom Cornwall takes its name, for that region fell to his lot, and\nthere the hugest giants dwelt, lurking in rocks and caves, till\nCorineus rid the land of them.\n\nBrutus built his capital city, and called it Trojanova (New Troy),\nchanged in time to Trinovantus, now London;\n\n[Footnote:\n    \"For noble Britons sprong from Trojans bold,\n    And Troynovant was built of old Troy's ashes cold\" SPENSER,\n\n    Book III, Canto IX., 38.]\n\nand, having governed the isle twenty-four years, died, leaving\nthree sons, Locrine, Albanact and Camber. Locrine had the middle\npart, Camber the west, called Cambria from him, and Albanact\nAlbania, now Scotland. Locrine was married to Guendolen, the\ndaughter of Corineus, but having seen a fair maid named Estrildis,\nwho had been brought captive from Germany, he became enamoured of\nher, and had by her a daughter, whose name was Sabra. This matter\nwas kept secret while Corineus lived, but after his death Locrine\ndivorced Guendolen, and made Estrildis his queen. Guendolen, all\nin rage, departed to Cornwall, where Madan, her son, lived, who\nhad been brought up by Corineus, his grandfather. Gathering an\narmy of her father's friends and subjects, she gave battle to her\nhusband's forces and Locrine was slain. Guendolen caused her\nrival, Estrildis, with her daughter Sabra, to be thrown into the\nriver, from which cause the river thenceforth bore the maiden's\nname, which by length of time is now changed into Sabrina or\nSevern. Milton alludes to this in his address to the rivers,--\n\n    \"Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death\";--\n\nand in his \"Comus\" tells the story with a slight variation, thus:\n\n    \"There is a gentle nymph not far from hence,\n    That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream;\n    Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure:\n    Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine,\n    That had the sceptre from his father, Brute,\n    She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit\n    Of her enraged step-dame, Guendolen,\n    Commended her fair innocence to the flood,\n    That stayed her night with his cross-flowing course\n    The water-nymphs that in the bottom played,\n    Held up their pearled wrists and took her in,\n    Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall,\n    Who, piteous of her woes, reared her lank head,\n    And gave her to his daughters to imbathe\n    In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel,\n    And through the porch and inlet of each sense\n    Dropped in ambrosial oils till she revived,\n    And underwent a quick, immortal change,\n    Made goddess of the river,\" etc.\n\nIf our readers ask when all this took place, we must answer, in\nthe first place, that mythology is not careful of dates; and next,\nthat, as Brutus was the great-grandson of Aeneas, it must have\nbeen not far from a century subsequent to the Trojan war, or about\neleven hundred years before the invasion of the island by Julius\nCaesar. This long interval is filled with the names of princes\nwhose chief occupation was in warring with one another. Some few,\nwhose names remain connected with places, or embalmed in\nliterature, we will mention.\n\nBLADUD\n\nBladud built the city of Bath, and dedicated the medicinal waters\nto Minerva. He was a man of great invention, and practised the\narts of magic, till, having made him wings to fly, he fell down\nupon the temple of Apollo, in Trinovant, and so died, after twenty\nyears' reign.\n\nLEIR\n\nLeir, who next reigned, built Leicester, and called it after his\nname. He had no male issue, but only three daughters. When grown\nold he determined to divide his kingdom among his daughters, and\nbestow them in marriage. But first, to try which of them loved him\nbest, he determined to ask them solemnly in order, and judge of\nthe warmth of their affection by their answers. Goneril, the\neldest, knowing well her father's weakness, made answer that she\nloved him \"above her soul.\" \"Since thou so honorest my declining\nage,\" said the old man, \"to thee and to thy husband I give the\nthird part of my realm.\" Such good success for a few words soon\nuttered was ample instruction to Regan, the second daughter, what\nto say. She therefore to the same question replied that \"she loved\nhim more than all the world beside;\" and so received an equal\nreward with her sister. But Cordelia, the youngest, and hitherto\nthe best beloved, though having before her eyes the reward of a\nlittle easy soothing, and the loss likely to attend plain-\ndealing, yet was not moved from the solid purpose of a sincere and\nvirtuous answer, and replied: \"Father, my love towards you is as\nmy duty bids. They who pretend beyond this flatter.\" When the old\nman, sorry to hear this, and wishing her to recall these words,\npersisted in asking, she still restrained her expressions so as to\nsay rather less than more than the truth. Then Leir, all in a\npassion, burst forth: \"Since thou hast not reverenced thy aged\nfather like thy sisters, think not to have any part in my kingdom\nor what else I have;\"--and without delay, giving in marriage his\nother daughters, Goneril to the Duke of Albany, and Regan to the\nDuke of Cornwall, he divides his kingdom between them, and goes to\nreside with his eldest daughter, attended only by a hundred\nknights. But in a short time his attendants, being complained of\nas too numerous and disorderly, are reduced to thirty. Resenting\nthat affront, the old king betakes him to his second daughter; but\nshe, instead of soothing his wounded pride, takes part with her\nsister, and refuses to admit a retinue of more than five. Then\nback he returns to the other, who now will not receive him with\nmore than one attendant. Then the remembrance of Cordeilla comes\nto his thoughts, and he takes his journey into France to seek her,\nwith little hope of kind consideration from one whom he had so\ninjured, but to pay her the last recompense he can render,--\nconfession of his injustice. When Cordeilla is informed of his\napproach, and of his sad condition, she pours forth true filial\ntears. And, not willing that her own or others' eyes should see\nhim in that forlorn condition, she sends one of her trusted\nservants to meet him, and convey him privately to some comfortable\nabode, and to furnish him with such state as befitted his dignity.\nAfter which Cordeilla, with the king her husband, went in state to\nmeet him, and, after an honorable reception, the king permitted\nhis wife, Cordeilla, to go with an army and set her father again\nupon his throne. They prospered, subdued the wicked sisters and\ntheir consorts, and Leir obtained the crown and held it three\nyears. Cordeilla succeeded him and reigned five years; but the\nsons of her sisters, after that, rebelled against her, and she\nlost both her crown and life.\n\nShakspeare has chosen this story as the subject of his tragedy of\n\"King Lear,\" varying its details in some respects. The madness of\nLeir, and the ill success of Cordeilla's attempt to reinstate her\nfather, are the principal variations, and those in the names will\nalso be noticed. Our narrative is drawn from Milton's \"History;\"\nand thus the reader will perceive that the story of Leir has had\nthe distinguished honor of being told by the two acknowledged\nchiefs of British literature.\n\nFERREX AND PORREX\n\nFerrex and Porrex were brothers, who held the kingdom after Leir.\nThey quarrelled about the supremacy, and Porrex expelled his\nbrother, who, obtaining aid from Suard, king of the Franks,\nreturned and made war upon Porrex. Ferrex was slain in battle and\nhis forces dispersed. When their mother came to hear of her son's\ndeath, who was her favorite, she fell into a great rage, and\nconceived a mortal hatred against the survivor. She took,\ntherefore, her opportunity when he was asleep, fell upon him, and,\nwith the assistance of her women, tore him in pieces. This horrid\nstory would not be worth relating, were it not for the fact that\nit has furnished the plot for the first tragedy which was written\nin the English language. It was entitled \"Gorboduc,\" but in the\nsecond edition \"Ferrex and Porrex,\" and was the production of\nThomas Sackville, afterwards Earl of Dorset, and Thomas Norton, a\nbarrister. Its date was 1561.\n\nDUNWALLO MOLMUTIUS\n\nThis is the next name of note. Molmutius established the Molmutine\nlaws, which bestowed the privilege of sanctuary on temples,\ncities, and the roads leading to them, and gave the same\nprotection to ploughs, extending a religious sanction to the\nlabors of the field. Shakspeare alludes to him in \"Cymbeline,\" Act\nIII., Scene 1:\n\n    \"... Molmutius made our laws;\n     Who was the first of Britain which did put\n     His brows within a golden crown, and called\n     Himself a king.\"\n\nBRENNUS AND BELINUS,\n\nThe sons of Molmutius, succeeded him. They quarrelled, and Brennus\nwas driven out of the island, and took refuge in Gaul, where he\nmet with such favor from the king of the Allobroges that he gave\nhim his daughter in marriage, and made him his partner on the\nthrone. Brennus is the name which the Roman historians give to the\nfamous leader of the Gauls who took Rome in the time of Camillus.\nGeoffrey of Monmouth claims the glory of the conquest for the\nBritish prince, after he had become king of the Allobroges.\n\nELIDURE\n\nAfter Belinus and Brennus there reigned several kings of little\nnote, and then came Elidure. Arthgallo, his brother, being king,\ngave great offence to his powerful nobles, who rose against him,\ndeposed him, and advanced Elidure to the throne. Arthgallo fled,\nand endeavored to find assistance in the neighboring kingdoms to\nreinstate him, but found none. Elidure reigned prosperously and\nwisely. After five years' possession of the kingdom, one day, when\nhunting, he met in the forest his brother, Arthgallo, who had been\ndeposed. After long wandering, unable longer to bear the poverty\nto which he was reduced, he had returned to Britain, with only ten\nfollowers, designing to repair to those who had formerly been his\nfriends. Elidure, at the sight of his brother in distress,\nforgetting all animosities, ran to him, and embraced him. He took\nArthgallo home with him, and concealed him in the palace. After\nthis he feigned himself sick, and, calling his nobles about him,\ninduced them, partly by persuasion, partly by force, to consent to\nhis abdicating the kingdom, and reinstating his brother on the\nthrone. The agreement being ratified, Elidure took the crown from\nhis own head, and put it on his brother's head. Arthgallo after\nthis reigned ten years, well and wisely, exercising strict justice\ntowards all men.\n\nHe died, and left the kingdom to his sons, who reigned with\nvarious fortunes, but were not long-lived, and left no offspring,\nso that Elidure was again advanced to the throne, and finished the\ncourse of his life in just and virtuous actions, receiving the\nname of THE PIOUS, from the love and admiration of his subjects.\n\nWordsworth has taken the story of Artegal and Elidure for the\nsubject of a poem, which is No. 2 of \"Poems founded on the\nAffections.\"\n\nLUD\n\nAfter Elidure, the Chronicle names many kings, but none of special\nnote, till we come to Lud, who greatly enlarged Trinovant, his\ncapital, and surrounded it with a wall. He changed its name,\nbestowing upon it his own, so that henceforth it was called Lud's\ntown, afterwards London. Lud was buried by the gate of the city\ncalled after him Ludgate. He had two sons, but they were not old\nenough at the time of their father's death to sustain the cares of\ngovernment, and therefore their uncle, Caswallaun, or\nCassibellaunus, succeeded to the kingdom. He was a brave and\nmagnificent prince, so that his fame reached to distant countries.\n\nCASSIBELLAUNUS\n\nAbout this time it happened (as is found in the Roman histories)\nthat Julius Caesar, having subdued Gaul, came to the shore\nopposite Britain. And having resolved to add this island also to\nhis conquests, he prepared ships and transported his army across\nthe sea, to the mouth of the River Thames. Here he was met by\nCassibellaun with all his forces, and a battle ensued, in which\nNennius, the brother of Cassibellaun, engaged in single combat\nwith Csesar. After several furious blows given and received, the\nsword of Caesar stuck so fast in the shield of Nennius that it\ncould not be pulled out, and the combatants being separated by the\nintervention of the troops Nennius remained possessed of this\ntrophy. At last, after the greater part of the day was spent, the\nBritons poured in so fast that Caesar was forced to retire to his\ncamp and fleet. And finding it useless to continue the war any\nlonger at that time, he returned to Gaul.\n\nShakspeare alludes to Cassibellaunus, in \"Cymbeline\":\n\n    \"The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point\n     (O giglot fortune!) to master Caesar's sword,\n     Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright,\n     And Britons strut with courage.\"\n\nKYMBELINUS, OR CYMBELINE\n\nCaesar, on a second invasion of the island, was more fortunate,\nand compelled the Britons to pay tribute. Cymbeline, the nephew of\nthe king, was delivered to the Romans as a hostage for the\nfaithful fulfilment of the treaty, and, being carried to Rome by\nCaesar, he was there brought up in the Roman arts and\naccomplishments. Being afterwards restored to his country, and\nplaced on the throne, he was attached to the Romans, and continued\nthrough all his reign at peace with them. His sons, Guiderius and\nArviragus, who made their appearance in Shakspeare's play of\n\"Cymbeline,\" succeeded their father, and, refusing to pay tribute\nto the Romans, brought on another invasion. Guiderius was slain,\nbut Arviragus afterward made terms with the Romans, and reigned\nprosperously many years.\n\nARMORICA\n\nThe next event of note is the conquest and colonization of\nArmorica, by Maximus, a Roman general, and Conan, lord of Miniadoc\nor Denbigh-land, in Wales. The name of the country was changed to\nBrittany, or Lesser Britain; and so completely was it possessed by\nthe British colonists, that the language became assimilated to\nthat spoken in Wales, and it is said that to this day the\npeasantry of the two countries can understand each other when\nspeaking their native language.\n\nThe Romans eventually succeeded in establishing themselves in the\nisland, and after the lapse of several generations they became\nblended with the natives so that no distinction existed between\nthe two races. When at length the Roman armies were withdrawn from\nBritain, their departure was a matter of regret to the\ninhabitants, as it left them without protection against the\nbarbarous tribes, Scots, Picts, and Norwegians, who harassed the\ncountry incessantly. This was the state of things when the era of\nKing Arthur began.\n\nThe adventure of Albion, the giant, with Hercules is alluded to by\nSpenser, \"Faery Queene,\" Book IV., Canto xi:\n\n   \"For Albion the son of Neptune was;\n    Who for the proof of his great puissance,\n    Out of his Albion did on dry foot pass\n    Into old Gaul that now is cleped France,\n    To fight with Hercules, that did advance\n    To vanquish all the world with matchless might:\n    And there his mortal part by great mischance\n    Was slain.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nMERLIN\n\n\nMerlin was the son of no mortal father, but of an Incubus, one of\na class of beings not absolutely wicked, but far from good, who\ninhabit the regions of the air. Merlin's mother was a virtuous\nyoung woman, who, on the birth of her son, intrusted him to a\npriest, who hurried him to the baptismal fount, and so saved him\nfrom sharing the lot of his father, though he retained many marks\nof his unearthly origin.\n\nAt this time Vortigern reigned in Britain. He was a usurper, who\nhad caused the death of his sovereign, Moines, and driven the two\nbrothers of the late king, whose names were Uther and Pendragon,\ninto banishment. Vortigern, who lived in constant fear of the\nreturn of the rightful heirs of the kingdom, began to erect a\nstrong tower for defence. The edifice, when brought by the workmen\nto a certain height, three times fell to the ground, without any\napparent cause. The king consulted his astrologers on this\nwonderful event, and learned from them that it would be necessary\nto bathe the corner-stone of the foundation with the blood of a\nchild born without a mortal father.\n\nIn search of such an infant, Vortigern sent his messengers all\nover the kingdom, and they by accident discovered Merlin, whose\nlineage seemed to point him out as the individual wanted. They\ntook him to the king; but Merlin, young as he was, explained to\nthe king the absurdity of attempting to rescue the fabric by such\nmeans, for he told him the true cause of the instability of the\ntower was its being placed over the den of two immense dragons,\nwhose combats shook the earth above them. The king ordered his\nworkmen to dig beneath the tower, and when they had done so they\ndiscovered two enormous serpents, the one white as milk the other\nred as fire. The multitude looked on with amazement, till the\nserpents, slowly rising from their den, and expanding their\nenormous folds, began the combat, when every one fled in terror,\nexcept Merlin, who stood by clapping his hands and cheering on the\nconflict. The red dragon was slain, and the white one, gliding\nthrough a cleft in the rock, disappeared.\n\nThese animals typified, as Merlin afterwards explained, the\ninvasion of Uther and Pendragon, the rightful princes, who soon\nafter landed with a great army. Vortigern was defeated, and\nafterwards burned alive in the castle he had taken such pains to\nconstruct. On the death of Vortigern, Pendragon ascended the\nthrone. Merlin became his chief adviser, and often assisted the\nking by his magical arts.\n\n   \"Merlin, who knew the range of all their arts,\n    Had built the King his havens, ships and halls.\"\n\n    --Vivian.\n\nAmong other endowments, he had the power of transforming himself\ninto any shape he pleased. At one time he appeared as a dwarf, at\nothers as a damsel, a page, or even a greyhound or a stag. This\nfaculty he often employed for the service of the king, and\nsometimes also for the diversion of the court and the sovereign.\n\nMerlin continued to be a favorite counsellor through the reigns of\nPendragon, Uther, and Arthur, and at last disappeared from view,\nand was no more found among men, through the treachery of his\nmistress, Viviane, the Fairy, which happened in this wise.\n\nMerlin, having become enamoured of the fair Viviane, the Lady of\nthe Lake, was weak enough to impart to her various important\nsecrets of his art, being impelled by fatal destiny, of which he\nwas at the same time fully aware. The lady, however, was not\ncontent with his devotion, unbounded as it seems to have been, but\n\"cast about,\" the Romance tells us, how she might \"detain him for\nevermore,\" and one day addressed him in these terms: \"Sir, I would\nthat we should make a fair place and a suitable, so contrived by\nart and by cunning that it might never be undone, and that you and\nI should be there in joy and solace.\" \"My lady,\" said Merlin, \"I\nwill do all this.\" \"Sir,\" said she, \"I would not have you do it,\nbut you shall teach me, and I will do it, and then it will be more\nto my mind.\" \"I grant you this,\" said Merlin. Then he began to\ndevise, and the damsel put it all in writing. And when he had\ndevised the whole, then had the damsel full great joy, and showed\nhim greater semblance of love than she had ever before made, and\nthey sojourned together a long while. At length it fell out that,\nas they were going one day hand in hand through the forest of\nBreceliande, they found a bush of white-thorn, which was laden\nwith flowers; and they seated themselves under the shade of this\nwhite-thorn, upon the green grass, and Merlin laid his head upon\nthe damsel's lap, and fell asleep. Then the damsel rose, and made\na ring with her wimple round the bush, and round Merlin, and began\nher enchantments, such as he himself had taught her; and nine\ntimes she made the ring, and nine times she made the enchantment,\nand then she went and sat down by him, and placed his head again\nupon her lap.\n\n                                 \"And a sleep\n    Fell upon Merlin more like death, so deep\n    Her finger on her lips; then Vivian rose,\n    And from her brown-locked head the wimple throws,\n    And takes it in her hand and waves it over\n    The blossomed thorn tree and her sleeping lover.\n    Nine times she waved the fluttering wimple round,\n    And made a little plot of magic ground.\"\n\n    --Matthew Arnold.\n\nAnd when he awoke, and looked round him, it seemed to him that he\nwas enclosed in the strongest tower in the world, and laid upon a\nfair bed. Then said he to the dame: \"My lady, you have deceived\nme, unless you abide with me, for no one hath power to unmake this\ntower but you alone.\" She then promised she would be often there,\nand in this she held her covenant with him. And Merlin never went\nout of that tower where his Mistress Viviane had enclosed him; but\nshe entered and went out again when she listed.\n\nAfter this event Merlin was never more known to hold converse with\nany mortal but Viviane, except on one occasion. Arthur, having for\nsome time missed him from his court, sent several of his knights\nin search of him, and, among the number, Sir Gawain, who met with\na very unpleasant adventure while engaged in this quest. Happening\nto pass a damsel on his road, and neglecting to salute her, she\nrevenged herself for his incivility by transforming him into a\nhideous dwarf. He was bewailing aloud his evil fortune as he went\nthrough the forest of Breceliande, when suddenly he heard the\nvoice of one groaning on his right hand; and, looking that way, he\ncould see nothing save a kind of smoke, which seemed like air, and\nthrough which he could not pass. Merlin then addressed him from\nout the smoke, and told him by what misadventure he was imprisoned\nthere. \"Ah, sir!\" he added, \"you will never see me more, and that\ngrieves me, but I cannot remedy it; I shall never more speak to\nyou, nor to any other person, save only my mistress. But do thou\nhasten to King Arthur, and charge him from me to undertake,\nwithout delay, the quest of the Sacred Graal. The knight is\nalready born, and has received knighthood at his hands, who is\ndestined to accomplish this quest.\" And after this he comforted\nGawain under his transformation, assuring him that he should\nspeedily be disenchanted; and he predicted to him that he should\nfind the king at Carduel, in Wales, on his return, and that all\nthe other knights who had been on like quest would arrive there\nthe same day as himself. And all this came to pass as Merlin had\nsaid.\n\nMerlin is frequently introduced in the tales of chivalry, but it\nis chiefly on great occasions, and at a period subsequent to his\ndeath, or magical disappearance. In the romantic poems of Italy,\nand in Spenser, Merlin is chiefly represented as a magical artist.\nSpenser represents him as the artificer of the impenetrable shield\nand other armor of Prince Arthur (\"Faery Queene,\" Book I., Canto\nvii.), and of a mirror, in which a damsel viewed her lover's\nshade. The Fountain of Love, in the \"Orlando Innamorata,\" is\ndescribed as his work; and in the poem of \"Ariosto\" we are told of\na hall adorned with prophetic paintings, which demons had executed\nin a single night, under the direction of Merlin.\n\nThe following legend is from Spenser's \"Faery Queene,\" Book III.,\nCanto iii.:\n\nCAER-MERDIN, OR CAERMARTHEN (IN WALES), MERLIN'S TOWER, AND THE\nIMPRISONED FIENDS.\n\n   \"Forthwith themselves disguising both, in straunge\n    And base attire, that none might them bewray,\n    To Maridunum, that is now by chaunge\n    Of name Caer-Merdin called, they took their way:\n    There the wise Merlin whylome wont (they say)\n    To make his wonne, low underneath the ground\n    In a deep delve, far from the view of day,\n    That of no living wight he mote be found,\n  Whenso he counselled with his sprights encompassed round.\n\n   \"And if thou ever happen that same way\n    To travel, go to see that dreadful place;\n    It is a hideous hollow cave (they say)\n    Under a rock that lies a little space\n    From the swift Barry, tombling down apace\n    Amongst the woody hills of Dynevor;\n    But dare not thou, I charge, in any case,\n    To enter into that same baleful bower,\n  For fear the cruel fiends should thee unwares devour.\n\n   \"But standing high aloft, low lay thine ear,\n    And there such ghastly noise of iron chains\n    And brazen cauldrons thou shalt rumbling hear,\n    Which thousand sprites with long enduring pains\n    Do toss, that it will stun thy feeble brains;\n    And oftentimes great groans, and grievous stounds,\n    When too huge toil and labor them constrains;\n    And oftentimes loud strokes and ringing sounds\n  From under that deep rock most horribly rebounds.\n\n   \"The cause some say is this. A little while\n    Before that Merlin died, he did intend\n    A brazen wall in compas to compile\n    About Caermerdin, and did it commend\n    Unto these sprites to bring to perfect end;\n    During which work the Lady of the Lake,\n    Whom long he loved, for him in haste did send;\n    Who, thereby forced his workmen to forsake,\n  Them bound till his return their labor not to slack.\n\n   \"In the mean time, through that false lady's train,\n    He was surprised, and buried under beare,\n    He ever to his work returned again;\n    Nathless those fiends may not their work forbear,\n    So greatly his commandement they fear;\n    But there do toil and travail day and night,\n    Until that brazen wall they up do rear.\n    For Merlin had in magic more insight\n  Than ever him before or after living wight.\"\n\n[Footnote: Buried under beare. Buried under something which\nenclosed him like a coffin or bier.]\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nARTHUR\n\n\nWe shall begin our history of King Arthur by giving those\nparticulars of his life which appear to rest on historical\nevidence; and then proceed to record those legends concerning him\nwhich form the earliest portion of British literature.\n\nArthur was a prince of the tribe of Britons called Silures, whose\ncountry was South Wales, the son of Uther, named Pendragon, a\ntitle given to an elective sovereign, paramount over the many\nkings of Britain. He appears to have commenced his martial career\nabout the year 500, and was raised to the Pendragonship about ten\nyears later. He is said to have gained twelve victories over the\nSaxons. The most important of them was that of Badon, by some\nsupposed to be Bath, by others Berkshire. This was the last of his\nbattles with the Saxons, and checked their progress so\neffectually, that Arthur experienced no more annoyance from them,\nand reigned in peace, until the revolt of his nephew Modred,\ntwenty years later, which led to the fatal battle of Camlan, in\nCornwall, in 542. Modred was slain, and Arthur, mortally wounded,\nwas conveyed by sea to Glastonbury, where he died, and was buried.\nTradition preserved the memory of the place of his interment\nwithin the abbey, as we are told by Giraldus Cambrensis, who was\npresent when the grave was opened by command of Henry II. about\n1150, and saw the bones and sword of the monarch, and a leaden\ncross let into his tombstone, with the inscription in rude Roman\nletters, \"Here lies buried the famous King Arthur, in the island\nAvalonia.\" This story has been elegantly versified by Warton. A\npopular traditional belief was long entertained among the Britons,\nthat Arthur was not dead, but had been carried off to be healed of\nhis wounds in Fairy-land, and that he would reappear to avenge his\ncountrymen and reinstate them in the sovereignty of Britain. In\nWarton's \"Ode\" a bard relates to King Henry the traditional story\nof Arthur's death, and closes with these lines.\n\n   \"Yet in vain a paynim foe\n    Armed with fate the mighty blow:\n    For when he fell, the Elfin queen,\n    All in secret and unseen,\n    O'er the fainting hero threw\n    Her mantle of ambrosial blue,\n    And bade her spirits bear him far,\n    In Merlin's agate-axled car,\n    To her green isle's enamelled steep,\n    Far in the navel of the deep.\n    O'er his wounds she sprinkled dew\n    From flowers that in Arabia grew.\n\n    There he reigns a mighty king,\n    Thence to Britain shall return,\n    If right prophetic rolls I learn,\n    Borne on victory's spreading plume,\n    His ancient sceptre to resume,\n    His knightly table to restore,\n    And brave the tournaments of yore.\"\n\nAfter this narration another bard came forward who recited a\ndifferent story:\n\n   \"When Arthur bowed his haughty crest,\n    No princess veiled in azure vest\n    Snatched him, by Merlin's powerful spell,\n    In groves of golden bliss to dwell;\n    But when he fell, with winged speed,\n    His champions, on a milk-white steed,\n    From the battle's hurricane,\n    Bore him to Joseph's towered fane,\n    In the fair vale of Avalon;\n    There, with chanted orison\n    And the long blaze of tapers clear,\n    The stoled fathers met the bier;\n    Through the dim aisles, in order dread\n    Of martial woe, the chief they led,\n    And deep entombed in holy ground,\n    Before the altar's solemn bound.\"\n\n[Footnote: Glastonbury Abbey, said to be founded by Joseph of\nArimathea, in a spot anciently called the island or valley of\nAvalonia.\n\nTennyson, in his \"Palace of Art,\" alludes to the legend of\nArthur's rescue by the Faery queen, thus:\n\n   \"Or mythic Uther's deeply wounded son,\n      In some fair space of sloping greens,\n    Lay dozing in the vale of Avalon,\n      And watched by weeping queens.\"]\n\nIt must not be concealed that the very existence of Arthur has\nbeen denied by some. Milton says of him: \"As to Arthur, more\nrenowned in songs and romances than in true stories, who he was,\nand whether ever any such reigned in Britain, hath been doubted\nheretofore, and may again, with good reason.\" Modern critics,\nhowever, admit that there was a prince of this name, and find\nproof of it in the frequent mention of him in the writings of the\nWelsh bards. But the Arthur of romance, according to Mr. Owen, a\nWelsh scholar and antiquarian, is a mythological person. \"Arthur,\"\nhe says, \"is the Great Bear, as the name literally implies\n(Arctos, Arcturus), and perhaps this constellation, being so near\nthe pole, and visibly describing a circle in a small space, is the\norigin of the famous Round Table.\"\n\nKING ARTHUR\n\nConstans, king of Britain, had three sons, Moines, Ambrosius,\notherwise called Uther, and Pendragon. Moines, soon after his\naccession to the crown, was vanquished by the Saxons, in\nconsequence of the treachery of his seneschal, Vortigern, and\ngrowing unpopular, through misfortune, he was killed by his\nsubjects, and the traitor Vortigern chosen in his place.\n\nVortigern was soon after defeated in a great battle by Uther and\nPendragon, the surviving brothers of Moines, and Pendragon\nascended the throne.\n\nThis prince had great confidence in the wisdom of Merlin, and made\nhim his chief adviser. About this time a dreadful war arose\nbetween the Saxons and Britons. Merlin obliged the royal brothers\nto swear fidelity to each other, but predicted that one of them\nmust fall in the first battle. The Saxons were routed, and\nPendragon, being slain, was succeeded by Uther, who now assumed in\naddition to his own name the appellation of Pendragon.\n\nMerlin still continued a favorite counsellor. At the request of\nUther he transported by magic art enormous stones from Ireland, to\nform the sepulchre of Pendragon. These stones constitute the\nmonument now called Stonehenge, on Salisbury plain.\n\nMerlin next proceeded to Carlisle to prepare the Round Table, at\nwhich he seated an assemblage of the great nobles of the country.\nThe companions admitted to this high order were bound by oath to\nassist each other at the hazard of their own lives, to attempt\nsingly the most perilous adventures, to lead, when necessary, a\nlife of monastic solitude, to fly to arms at the first summons,\nand never to retire from battle till they had defeated the enemy,\nunless night intervened and separated the combatants.\n\nSoon after this institution, the king invited all his barons to\nthe celebration of a great festival, which he proposed holding\nannually at Carlisle.\n\nAs the knights had obtained the sovereign's permission to bring\ntheir ladies along with them, the beautiful Igerne accompanied her\nhusband, Gorlois, Duke of Tintadel, to one of these anniversaries.\nThe king became deeply enamoured of the duchess, and disclosed his\npassion; but Igerne repelled his advances, and revealed his\nsolicitations to her husband. On hearing this, the duke instantly\nremoved from court with Igerne, and without taking leave of Uther.\nThe king complained to his council of this want of duty, and they\ndecided that the duke should be summoned to court, and, if\nrefractory, should be treated as a rebel. As he refused to obey\nthe citation, the king carried war into the estates of his vassal\nand besieged him in the strong castle of Tintadel. Merlin\ntransformed the king into the likeness of Gorlois, and enabled him\nto have many stolen interviews with Igerne. At length the duke was\nkilled in battle and the king espoused Igerne.\n\nFrom this union sprang Arthur, who succeeded his father, Uther,\nupon the throne.\n\nARTHUR CHOSEN KING\n\nArthur, though only fifteen years old at his father's death, was\nelected king, at a general meeting of the nobles. It was not done\nwithout opposition, for there were many ambitious competitors.\n\n   \"For while he linger'd there\n    A doubt that ever smoulder'd in the hearts\n    Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm\n    Flash'd forth and into war: for most of these\n    Made head against him, crying, 'Who is he\n    That he should rule us? who hath proven him\n    King Uther's son? for lo! we look at him,\n    And find nor face nor bearing, limbs nor voice,\n    Are like to those of Uther whom we knew.\"\n\n    --Coming of Arthur.\n\nBut Bishop Brice, a person of great sanctity, on Christmas eve\naddressed the assembly, and represented that it would well become\nthem, at that solemn season, to put up their prayers for some\ntoken which should manifest the intentions of Providence\nrespecting their future sovereign. This was done, and with such\nsuccess, that the service was scarcely ended when a miraculous\nstone was discovered before the church door, and in the stone was\nfirmly fixed a sword, with the following words engraven on its\nhilt:\n\n   \"I am hight Escalibore,\n    Unto a king fair tresore.\"\n\nBishop Brice, after exhorting the assembly to offer up their\nthanksgiving for this signal miracle, proposed a law, that whoever\nshould be able to draw out the sword from the stone, should be\nacknowledged as sovereign of the Britons; and his proposal was\ndecreed by general acclamation. The tributary kings of Uther, and\nthe most famous knights, successively put their strength to the\nproof, but the miraculous sword resisted all their efforts. It\nstood till Candlemas; it stood till Easter, and till Pentecost,\nwhen the best knights in the kingdom usually assembled for the\nannual tournament. Arthur, who was at that time serving in the\ncapacity of squire to his foster-brother, Sir Kay, attended his\nmaster to the lists. Sir Kay fought with great valor and success,\nbut had the misfortune to break his sword, and sent Arthur to his\nmother for a new one. Arthur hastened home, but did not find the\nlady; but having observed near the church a sword, sticking in a\nstone, he galloped to the place, drew out the sword with great\nease, and delivered it to his master. Sir Kay would willingly have\nassumed to himself the distinction conferred by the possession of\nthe sword, but when, to confirm the doubters, the sword was\nreplaced in the stone he was utterly unable to withdraw it, and it\nwould yield a second time to no hand but Arthur's. Thus decisively\npointed out by Heaven as their king, Arthur was by general consent\nproclaimed as such, and an early day appointed for his solemn\ncoronation.\n\nImmediately after his election to the crown, Arthur found himself\nopposed by eleven kings and one duke, who with a vast army were\nactually encamped in the forest of Rockingham. By Merlin's advice\nArthur sent an embassy to Brittany, to solicit the aid of King Ban\nand King Bohort, two of the best knights in the world. They\naccepted the call, and with a powerful army crossed the sea,\nlanding at Portsmouth, where they were received with great\nrejoicing. The rebel kings were still superior in numbers; but\nMerlin, by a powerful enchantment, caused all their tents to fall\ndown at once, and in the confusion Arthur with his allies fell\nupon them and totally routed them.\n\nAfter defeating the rebels, Arthur took the field against the\nSaxons. As they were too strong for him unaided, he sent an\nembassy to Armorica, beseeching the assistance of Hoel, who soon\nafter brought over an army to his aid. The two kings joined their\nforces, and sought the enemy, whom they met, and both sides\nprepared for a decisive engagement. \"Arthur himself,\" as Geoffrey\nof Monmouth relates, \"dressed in a breastplate worthy of so great\na king, places on his head a golden helmet engraved with the\nsemblance of a dragon. Over his shoulders he throws his shield\ncalled Priwen, on which a picture of the Holy Virgin constantly\nrecalled her to his memory. Girt with Caliburn, a most excellent\nsword, and fabricated in the isle of Avalon, he graces his right\nhand with the lance named Ron. This was a long and broad spear,\nwell contrived for slaughter.\" After a severe conflict, Arthur,\ncalling on the name of the Virgin, rushes into the midst of his\nenemies, and destroys multitudes of them with the formidable\nCaliburn, and puts the rest to flight. Hoel, being detained by\nsickness, took no part in this battle.\n\nThis is called the victory of Mount Badon, and, however disguised\nby fable, it is regarded by historians as a real event.\n\nThe feats performed by Arthur at the battle of Badon Mount are\nthus celebrated in Drayton's verse:\n\n    \"They sung how he himself at Badon bore, that day,\n    When at the glorious goal his British sceptre lay;\n    Two daies together how the battel stronglie stood;\n    Pendragon's worthie son, who waded there in blood,\n    Three hundred Saxons slew with his owne valiant hand.\"\n\n    --Song IV.\n\nGUENEVER\n\nMerlin had planned for Arthur a marriage with the daughter of King\nLaodegan of Carmalide. By his advice Arthur paid a visit to the\ncourt of that sovereign, attended only by Merlin and by thirty-\nnine knights whom the magician had selected for that service. On\ntheir arrival they found Laodegan and his peers sitting in\ncouncil, endeavoring, but with small prospect of success, to\ndevise means of resisting the impending attack of Ryence, king of\nIreland, who, with fifteen tributary kings and an almost\ninnumerable army, had nearly surrounded the city. Merlin, who\nacted as leader of the band of British knights, announced them as\nstrangers, who came to offer the king their services in his wars;\nbut under the express condition that they should be at liberty to\nconceal their names and quality until they should think proper to\ndivulge them. These terms were thought very strange, but were\nthankfully accepted, and the strangers, after taking the usual\noath to the king, retired to the lodging which Merlin had prepared\nfor them.\n\nA few days after this, the enemy, regardless of a truce into which\nthey had entered with King Laodegan, suddenly issued from their\ncamp and made an attempt to surprise the city. Cleodalis, the\nking's general, assembled the royal forces with all possible\ndespatch. Arthur and his companions also flew to arms, and Merlin\nappeared at their head, bearing a standard on which was emblazoned\na terrific dragon. Merlin advanced to the gate, and commanded the\nporter to open it, which the porter refused to do, without the\nking's order. Merlin thereupon took up the gate, with all its\nappurtenances of locks, bars, bolts, etc., and directed his troops\nto pass through, after which he replaced it in perfect order. He\nthen set spurs to his horse and dashed, at the head of his little\ntroop, into a body of two thousand pagans. The disparity of\nnumbers being so enormous, Merlin cast a spell upon the enemy, so\nas to prevent their seeing the small number of their assailants;\nnotwithstanding which the British knights were hard pressed. But\nthe people of the city, who saw from the walls this unequal\ncontest, were ashamed of leaving the small body of strangers to\ntheir fate, so they opened the gate and sallied forth. The numbers\nwere now more nearly equal, and Merlin revoked his spell, so that\nthe two armies encountered on fair terms. Where Arthur, Ban,\nBohort, and the rest fought the king's army had the advantage; but\nin another part of the field the king himself was surrounded and\ncarried off by the enemy. The sad sight was seen by Guenever, the\nfair daughter of the king, who stood on the city wall and looked\nat the battle. She was in dreadful distress, tore her hair, and\nswooned away.\n\nBut Merlin, aware of what passed in every part of the field,\nsuddenly collected his knights, led them out of the battle,\nintercepted the passage of the party who were carrying away the\nking, charged them with irresistible impetuosity, cut in pieces or\ndispersed the whole escort, and rescued the king. In the fight\nArthur encountered Caulang, a giant fifteen feet high, and the\nfair Guenever, who had already began to feel a strong interest in\nthe handsome young stranger, trembled for the issue of the\ncontest. But Arthur, dealing a dreadful blow on the shoulder of\nthe monster, cut through his neck so that his head hung over on\none side, and in this condition his horse carried him about the\nfield, to the great horror and dismay of the Pagans. Guenever\ncould not refrain from expressing aloud her wish that the gentle\nknight, who dealt with giants so dexterously, were destined to\nbecome her husband, and the wish was echoed by her attendants. The\nenemy soon turned their backs and fled with precipitation, closely\npursued by Laodegan and his allies.\n\nAfter the battle Arthur was disarmed and conducted to the bath by\nthe princess Guenever, while his friends were attended by the\nother ladies of the court. After the bath the knights were\nconducted to a magnificent entertainment, at which they were\ndiligently served by the same fair attendants. Laodegan, more and\nmore anxious to know the name and quality of his generous\ndeliverers, and occasionally forming a secret wish that the chief\nof his guests might be captivated by the charms of his daughter,\nappeared silent and pensive, and was scarcely roused from his\nreverie by the banters of his courtiers. Arthur, having had an\nopportunity of explaining to Guenever his great esteem for her\nmerit, was in the joy of his heart, and was still further\ndelighted by hearing from Merlin the late exploits of Gawain at\nLondon, by means of which his immediate return to his dominions\nwas rendered unnecessary, and he was left at liberty to protract\nhis stay at the court of Laodegan. Every day contributed to\nincrease the admiration of the whole court for the gallant\nstrangers, and the passion of Guenever for their chief; and when\nat last Merlin announced to the king that the object of the visit\nof the party was to procure a bride for their leader, Laodegan at\nonce presented Guenever to Arthur, telling him that, whatever\nmight be his rank, his merit was sufficient to entitle him to the\npossession of the heiress of Carmalide.\n\n   \"And could he find a woman in her womanhood\n    As great as he was in his manhood--\n    The twain together might change the world.\"\n\n    --Guinevere.\n\nArthur accepted the lady with the utmost gratitude, and Merlin\nthen proceeded to satisfy the king of the rank of his son-in-law;\nupon which Laodegan, with all his barons, hastened to do homage to\ntheir lawful sovereign, the successor of Uther Pendragon. The fair\nGuenever was then solemnly betrothed to Arthur, and a magnificent\nfestival was proclaimed, which lasted seven days. At the end of\nthat time, the enemy appearing again with renewed force, it became\nnecessary to resume military operations. [Footnote: Guenever, the\nname of Arthur's queen, also written Genievre and Geneura, is\nfamiliar to all who are conversant with chivalric lore. It is to\nher adventures, and those of her true knight, Sir Launcelot, that\nDante alludes in the beautiful episode of Francesca di Rimini.]\n\nWe must now relate what took place at and near London, while\nArthur was absent from his capital. At this very time a band of\nyoung heroes were on their way to Arthur's court, for the purpose\nof receiving knighthood from him. They were Gawain and his three\nbrothers, nephews of Arthur, sons of King Lot, and Galachin,\nanother nephew, son of King Nanters. King Lot had been one of the\nrebel chiefs whom Arthur had defeated, but he now hoped by means\nof the young men to be reconciled to his brother-in-law. He\nequipped his sons and his nephew with the utmost magnificence,\ngiving them a splendid retinue of young men, sons of earls and\nbarons, all mounted on the best horses, with complete suits of\nchoice armor. They numbered in all seven hundred, but only nine\nhad yet received the order of knighthood; the rest were candidates\nfor that honor, and anxious to earn it by an early encounter with\nthe enemy. Gawain, the leader, was a knight of wonderful strength;\nbut what was most remarkable about him was that his strength was\ngreater at certain hours of the day than at others. From nine\no'clock till noon his strength was doubled, and so it was from\nthree to evensong; for the rest of the time it was less\nremarkable, though at all times surpassing that of ordinary men.\n\nAfter a march of three days they arrived in the vicinity of\nLondon, where they expected to find Arthur and his court, and very\nunexpectedly fell in with a large convoy belonging to the enemy,\nconsisting of numerous carts and wagons, all loaded with\nprovisions, and escorted by three thousand men, who had been\ncollecting spoil from all the country round. A single charge from\nGawain's impetuous cavalry was sufficient to disperse the escort\nand recover the convoy, which was instantly despatched to London.\nBut before long a body of seven thousand fresh soldiers advanced\nto the attack of the five princes and their little army. Gawain,\nsingling out a chief named Choas, of gigantic size, began the\nbattle by splitting him from the crown of the head to the breast.\nGalachin encountered King Sanagran, who was also very huge, and\ncut off his head. Agrivain and Gahariet also performed prodigies\nof valor. Thus they kept the great army of assailants at bay,\nthough hard pressed, till of a sudden they perceived a strong body\nof the citizens advancing from London, where the convoy which had\nbeen recovered by Gawain had arrived, and informed the mayor and\ncitizens of the danger of their deliverer. The arrival of the\nLondoners soon decided the contest. The enemy fled in all\ndirections, and Gawain and his friends, escorted by the grateful\ncitizens, entered London, and were received with acclamations.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nARTHUR (Continued)\n\n\nAfter the great victory of Mount Badon, by which the Saxons were\nfor the time effectually put down, Arthur turned his arms against\nthe Scots and Picts, whom he routed at Lake Lomond, and compelled\nto sue for mercy. He then went to York to keep his Christmas, and\nemployed himself in restoring the Christian churches which the\nPagans had rifled and overthrown. The following summer he\nconquered Ireland, and then made a voyage with his fleet to\nIceland, which he also subdued. The kings of Gothland and of the\nOrkneys came voluntarily and made their submission, promising to\npay tribute. Then he returned to Britain, where, having\nestablished the kingdom, he dwelt twelve years in peace.\n\nDuring this time he invited over to him all persons whatsoever\nthat were famous for valor in foreign nations, and augmented the\nnumber of his domestics, and introduced such politeness into his\ncourt as people of the remotest countries thought worthy of their\nimitation. So that there was not a nobleman who thought himself of\nany consideration unless his clothes and arms were made in the\nsame fashion as those of Arthur's knights.\n\nFinding himself so powerful at home, Arthur began to form designs\nfor extending his power abroad. So, having prepared his fleet, he\nfirst attempted Norway, that he might procure the crown of it for\nLot, his sister's husband. Arthur landed in Norway, fought a great\nbattle with the king of that country, defeated him, and pursued\nthe victory till he had reduced the whole country under his\ndominion, and established Lot upon the throne. Then Arthur made a\nvoyage to Gaul and laid siege to the city of Paris. Gaul was at\nthat time a Roman province, and governed by Flollo, the Tribune.\nWhen the siege of Paris had continued a month, and the people\nbegan to suffer from famine, Flollo challenged Arthur to single\ncombat, proposing to decide the conquest of the province in that\nway. Arthur gladly accepted the challenge, and slew his adversary\nin the contest, upon which the citizens surrendered the city to\nhim. After the victory Arthur divided his army into two parts, one\nof which he committed to the conduct of Hoel, whom he ordered to\nmarch into Aquitaine, while he with the other part should endeavor\nto subdue the other provinces. At the end of nine years, in which\ntime all the parts of Gaul were entirely reduced, Arthur returned\nto Paris, where he kept his court, and, calling an assembly of the\nclergy and people, established peace and the just administration\nof the laws in that kingdom. Then he bestowed Normandy upon\nBedver, his butler, and the province of Andegavia upon Kay, his\nsteward, [Footnote: This name, in the French romances, is spelled\nQueux, which means head cook. This would seem to imply that it was\na title, and not a name; yet the personage who bore it is never\nmentioned by any other. He is the chief, if not the only, comic\ncharacter among the heroes of Arthur's court. He is the Seneschal\nor Steward, his duties also embracing those of chief of the cooks.\nIn the romances, his general character is a compound of valor and\nbuffoonery, always ready to fight, and generally getting the worst\nof the battle. He is also sarcastic and abusive in his remarks, by\nwhich he often gets into trouble. Yet Arthur seems to have an\nattachment to him, and often takes his advice, which is generally\nwrong.] and several other provinces upon his great men that\nattended him. And, having settled the peace of the cities and\ncountries, he returned back in the beginning of spring to Britain.\n\nUpon the approach of the feast of Pentecost, Arthur, the better to\ndemonstrate his joy after such triumphant successes, and for the\nmore solemn observation of that festival, and reconciling the\nminds of the princes that were now subject to him, resolved during\nthat season to hold a magnificent court, to place the crown upon\nhis head, and to invite all the kings and dukes under his\nsubjection to the solemnity. And he pitched upon Caerleon, the\nCity of Legions, as the proper place for his purpose. For, besides\nits great wealth above the other cities, its situation upon the\nriver Usk, near the Severn sea, was most pleasant and fit for so\ngreat a solemnity. For on one side it was washed by that noble\nriver, so that the kings and princes from the countries beyond the\nseas might have the convenience of sailing up to it. On the other\nside the beauty of the meadows and groves, and magnificence of the\nroyal palaces, with lofty gilded roofs that adorned it, made it\neven rival the grandeur of Rome. It was also famous for two\nchurches, whereof one was adorned with a choir of virgins, who\ndevoted themselves wholly to the service of God, and the other\nmaintained a convent of priests. Besides, there was a college of\ntwo hundred philosophers, who, being learned in astronomy and the\nother arts, were diligent in observing the courses of the stars,\nand gave Arthur true predictions of the events that would happen.\nIn this place, therefore, which afforded such delights, were\npreparations made for the ensuing festival.\n\n[Footnote: Several cities are allotted to King Arthur by the\nromance-writers. The principal are Caerleon, Camelot, and\nCarlisle.\n\nCaerleon derives its name from its having been the station of one\nof the legions, during the dominion of the Romans. It is called by\nLatin writers Urbs Legionum, the City of Legions. The former word\nbeing rendered into Welsh by Caer, meaning city, and the latter\ncontracted into lleon. The river Usk retains its name in modern\ngeography, and there is a town or city of Caerleon upon it, though\nthe city of Cardiff is thought to be the scene of Arthur's court.\nChester also bears in Welsh the name of Caerleon; for Chester,\nderived from castra, Latin for camp, is the designation of\nmilitary headquarters.\n\nCamelot is thought to be Winchester.\n\nShalott is Guilford.\n\nHamo's Port is Southampton.\n\nCarlisle is the city still retaining that name, near the Scottish\nborder. But this name is also sometimes applied to other places,\nwhich were, like itself, military stations.]\n\nAmbassadors were then sent into several kingdoms, to invite to\ncourt the princes both of Gaul and of the adjacent islands.\nAccordingly there came Augusel, king of Albania, now Scotland,\nCadwallo, king of Venedotia, now North Wales, Sater, king of\nDemetia, now South Wales; also the archbishops of the metropolitan\nsees, London and York, and Dubricius, bishop of Caerleon, the City\nof Legions. This prelate, who was primate of Britain, was so\neminent for his piety that he could cure any sick person by his\nprayers. There were also the counts of the principal cities, and\nmany other worthies of no less dignity.\n\nFrom the adjacent islands came Guillamurius, king of Ireland,\nGunfasius, king of the Orkneys, Malvasius, king of Iceland, Lot,\nking of Norway, Bedver, the butler, Duke of Normandy, Kay, the\nsewer, Duke of Andegavia; also the twelve peers of Gaul, and Hoel,\nDuke of the Armorican Britons, with his nobility, who came with\nsuch a train of mules, horses, and rich furniture as it is\ndifficult to describe. Besides these there remained no prince of\nany consideration on this side of Spain who came not upon this\ninvitation. And no wonder, when Arthur's munificence, which was\ncelebrated over the whole world, made him beloved by all people.\n\nWhen all were assembled upon the day of the solemnity the\narchbishops were conducted to the palace, in order to place the\ncrown upon the king's head. Then Dubricius, inasmuch as the court\nwas held in his diocese, made himself ready to celebrate the\noffice. As soon as the king was invested with his royal\nhabiliments he was conducted in great pomp to the metropolitan\nchurch, having four kings, viz., of Albania, Cornwall, Demetia,\nand Venedotia, bearing four golden swords before him. On another\npart was the queen, dressed out in her richest ornaments,\nconducted by the archbishops and bishops to the Church of Virgins;\nthe four queens, also, of the kings last mentioned, bearing before\nher four white doves, according to ancient custom. When the whole\nprocession was ended so transporting was the harmony of the\nmusical instruments and voices, whereof there was a vast variety\nin both churches, that the knights who attended were in doubt\nwhich to prefer, and therefore crowded from the one to the other\nby turns, and were far from being tired of the solemnity, though\nthe whole day had been spent in it. At last, when divine service\nwas over at both churches, the king and queen put off their\ncrowns, and, putting on their lighter ornaments, went to the\nbanquet. When they had all taken their seats according to\nprecedence, Kay, the sewer, in rich robes of ermine, with a\nthousand young noblemen all in like manner clothed in rich attire,\nserved up the dishes. From another part Bedver, the butler, was\nfollowed by the same number of attendants, who waited with all\nkinds of cups and drinking-vessels. And there was food and drink\nin abundance, and everything was of the best kind, and served in\nthe best manner. For at that time Britain had arrived at such a\npitch of grandeur that in riches, luxury, and politeness it far\nsurpassed all other kingdoms.\n\nAs soon as the banquets were over they went into the fields\nwithout the city to divert themselves with various sports, such as\nshooting with bows and arrows, tossing the pike, casting of heavy\nstones and rocks, playing at dice, and the like, and all these\ninoffensively, and without quarrelling. In this manner were three\ndays spent, and after that they separated, and the kings and\nnoblemen departed to their several homes.\n\nAfter this Arthur reigned five years in peace. Then came\nambassadors from Lucius Tiberius, Procurator under Leo, Emperor of\nRome, demanding tribute. But Arthur refused to pay tribute, and\nprepared for war. As soon as the necessary dispositions were made\nhe committed the government of his kingdom to his nephew Modred\nand to Queen Guenever, and marched with his army to Hamo's Port,\nwhere the wind stood fair for him. The army crossed over in\nsafety, and landed at the mouth of the river Barba. And there they\npitched their tents to wait the arrival of the kings of the\nislands.\n\nAs soon as all the forces were arrived Arthur marched forward to\nAugustodunum, and encamped on the banks of the river Alba. Here\nrepeated battles were fought, in all which the Britons, under\ntheir valiant leaders, Hoel, Duke of Armorica, and Gawain, nephew\nto Arthur, had the advantage. At length Lucius Tiberius determined\nto retreat, and wait for the Emperor Leo to join him with fresh\ntroops. But Arthur, anticipating this event, took possession of a\ncertain valley, and closed up the way of retreat to Lucius,\ncompelling him to fight a decisive battle, in which Arthur lost\nsome of the bravest of his knights and most faithful followers.\nBut on the other hand Lucius Tiberius was slain, and his army\ntotally defeated. The fugitives dispersed over the country, some\nto the by-ways and woods, some to cities and towns, and all other\nplaces where they could hope for safety.\n\nArthur stayed in those parts till the next winter was over, and\nemployed his time in restoring order and settling the government.\nHe then returned into England, and celebrated his victories with\ngreat splendor.\n\nThen the king stablished all his knights, and to them that were\nnot rich he gave lands, and charged them all never to do outrage\nnor murder, and always to flee treason; also, by no means to be\ncruel, but to give mercy unto him that asked mercy, upon pain of\nforfeiture of their worship and lordship; and always to do ladies,\ndamosels, and gentlewomen service, upon pain of death. Also that\nno man take battle in a wrongful quarrel, for no law, nor for any\nworld's goods. Unto this were all the knights sworn of the Table\nRound, both old and young. And at every year were they sworn at\nthe high feast of Pentecost.\n\nKING ARTHUR SLAYS THE GIANT OF ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT\n\nWhile the army was encamped in Brittany, awaiting the arrival of\nthe kings, there came a countryman to Arthur, and told him that a\ngiant, whose cave was on a neighboring mountain, called St.\nMichael's Mount, had for a long time been accustomed to carry off\nthe children of the peasants to devour them. \"And now he hath\ntaken the Duchess of Brittany, as she rode with her attendants,\nand hath carried her away in spite of all they could do.\" \"Now,\nfellow,\" said King Arthur, \"canst thou bring me there where this\ngiant haunteth?\" \"Yea, sure,\" said the good man; \"lo, yonder where\nthou seest two great fires, there shalt thou find him, and more\ntreasure than I suppose is in all France beside.\" Then the king\ncalled to him Sir Bedver and Sir Kay, and commanded them to make\nready horse and harness for himself and them; for after evening he\nwould ride on pilgrimage to St. Michael's Mount.\n\nSo they three departed, and rode forth till they came to the foot\nof the mount. And there the king commanded them to tarry, for he\nwould himself go up into that mount. So he ascended the hill till\nhe came to a great fire, and there he found an aged woman sitting\nby a new-made grave, making great sorrow. Then King Arthur saluted\nher, and demanded of her wherefore she made such lamentation; to\nwhom she answered: \"Sir knight, speak low, for yonder is a devil,\nand if he hear thee speak, he will come and destroy thee. For ye\ncannot make resistance to him, he is so fierce and so strong. He\nhath murdered the Duchess, which here lieth, who was the fairest\nof all the world, wife to Sir Hoel, Duke of Brittany.\" \"Dame,\"\nsaid the king, \"I come from the noble conqueror, King Arthur, to\ntreat with that tyrant.\" \"Fie on such treaties,\" said she; \"he\nsetteth not by the king, nor by no man else.\" \"Well,\" said Arthur,\n\"I will accomplish my message for all your fearful words.\" So he\nwent forth by the crest of the hill, and saw where the giant sat\nat supper, gnawing on the limb of a man, and baking his broad\nlimbs at the fire, and three fair damsels lying bound, whose lot\nit was to be devoured in their turn. When King Arthur beheld that,\nhe had great compassion on them, so that his heart bled for\nsorrow. Then he hailed the giant, saying, \"He that all the world\nruleth give thee short life and shameful death. Why hast thou\nmurdered this Duchess? Therefore come forth, for this day thou\nshalt die by my hand.\" Then the giant started up, and took a great\nclub, and smote at the king, and smote off his coronal; and then\nthe king struck him in the belly with his sword, and made a\nfearful wound. Then the giant threw away his club, and caught the\nking in his arms, so that he crushed his ribs. Then the three\nmaidens kneeled down and prayed for help and comfort for Arthur.\nAnd Arthur weltered and wrenched, so that he was one while under,\nand another time above. And so weltering and wallowing they rolled\ndown the hill, and ever as they weltered Arthur smote him with his\ndagger; and it fortuned they came to the place where the two\nknights were. And when they saw the king fast in the giant's arms\nthey came and loosed him. Then the king commanded Sir Kay to smite\noff the giant's head, and to set it on the truncheon of a spear,\nand fix it on the barbican, that all the people might see and\nbehold it. This was done, and anon it was known through all the\ncountry, wherefor the people came and thanked the king. And he\nsaid, \"Give your thanks to God; and take ye the giant's spoil and\ndivide it among you.\" And King Arthur caused a church to be\nbuilded on that hill, in honor of St. Michael.\n\nKING ARTHUR GETS A SWORD FROM THE LADY OF THE LAKE\n\nOne day King Arthur rode forth, and on a sudden he was ware of\nthree churls chasing Merlin, to have slain him. And the king rode\nunto them and bade them, \"Flee, churls!\" Then were they afraid\nwhen they saw a knight, and fled. \"O Merlin,\" said Arthur, \"here\nhadst thou been slain, for all thy crafts, had I not been by.\"\n\"Nay,\" said Merlin, \"not so, for I could save myself if I would;\nbut thou art more near thy death than I am.\" So, as they went thus\ntalking, King Arthur perceived where sat a knight on horseback, as\nif to guard the pass. \"Sir knight,\" said Arthur, \"for what cause\nabidest thou here?\" Then the knight said, \"There may no knight\nride this way unless he just with me, for such is the custom of\nthe pass.\" \"I will amend that custom,\" said the king. Then they\nran together, and they met so hard that their spears were\nshivered. Then they drew their swords and fought a strong battle,\nwith many great strokes. But at length the sword of the knight\nsmote King Arthur's sword in two pieces. Then said the knight unto\nArthur, \"Thou art in my power, whether to save thee or slay thee,\nand unless thou yield thee as overcome and recreant, thou shalt\ndie.\" \"As for death,\" said King Arthur, \"welcome be it when it\ncometh; but to yield me unto thee as recreant, I will not.\" Then\nhe leapt upon the knight, and took him by the middle and threw him\ndown; but the knight was a passing strong man, and anon he brought\nArthur under him, and would have razed off his helm to slay him.\nThen said Merlin, \"Knight, hold thy hand, for this knight is a man\nof more worship than thou art aware of.\" \"Why, who is he?\" said\nthe knight. \"It is King Arthur.\" Then would he have slain him for\ndread of his wrath, and lifted up his sword to slay him; and\ntherewith Merlin cast an enchantment on the knight, so that he\nfell to the earth in a great sleep. Then Merlin took up King\nArthur, and set him on his horse. \"Alas!\" said Arthur, \"what hast\nthou done, Merlin? hast thou slain this good knight by thy\ncrafts?\" \"Care ye not,\" said Merlin; \"he is wholer than ye be. He\nis only asleep, and will wake in three hours.\"\n\nThen the king and he departed, and went till they came to a\nhermit, that was a good man and a great leech. So the hermit\nsearched all his wounds, and applied good salves; and the king was\nthere three days, and then were his wounds well amended, that he\nmight ride and go. So they departed, and as they rode Arthur said,\n\"I have no sword.\" \"No matter,\" said Merlin; \"hereby is a sword\nthat shall be yours.\" So they rode till they came to a lake, which\nwas a fair water and broad. And in the midst of the lake Arthur\nwas aware of an arm clothed in white samite, [Footnote: Samite, a\nsort of silk stuff.] that held a fair sword in the hand. \"Lo!\"\nsaid Merlin, \"yonder is that sword that I spake of. It belongeth\nto the Lady of the Lake, and, if she will, thou mayest take it;\nbut if she will not, it will not be in thy power to take it.\"\n\nSo Sir Arthur and Merlin alighted from their horses, and went into\na boat. And when they came to the sword that the hand held Sir\nArthur took it by the handle and took it to him, and the arm and\nthe hand went under the water.\n\nThen they returned unto the land and rode forth. And Sir Arthur\nlooked on the sword and liked it right well.\n\nSo they rode unto Caerleon, whereof his knights were passing glad.\nAnd when they heard of his adventures they marvelled that he would\njeopard his person so alone. But all men of worship said it was a\nfine thing to be under such a chieftain as would put his person in\nadventure as other poor knights did.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nSIR GAWAIN\n\n\nSir Gawain was nephew to King Arthur, by his sister Morgana,\nmarried to Lot, king of Orkney, who was by Arthur made king of\nNorway. Sir Gawain was one of the most famous knights of the Round\nTable, and is characterized by the romancers as the SAGE and\nCOURTEOUS Gawain. To this Chaucer alludes in his \"Squiere's Tale,\"\nwhere the strange knight \"salueth\" all the court\n\n    \"With so high reverence and observance,\n    As well in speeche as in countenance,\n    That Gawain, with his olde curtesie,\n    Though he were come agen out of faerie,\n    Ne coude him not amenden with a word.\"\n\nGawain's brothers were Agrivain, Gahariet, and Gareth.\n\nSIR GAWAIN'S MARRIAGE\n\nOnce upon a time King Arthur held his court in merry Carlisle,\nwhen a damsel came before him and craved a boon. It was for\nvengeance upon a caitiff knight, who had made her lover captive\nand despoiled her of her lands. King Arthur commanded to bring him\nhis sword, Excalibar, and to saddle his steed, and rode forth\nwithout delay to right the lady's wrong. Ere long he reached the\ncastle of the grim baron, and challenged him to the conflict. But\nthe castle stood on magic ground, and the spell was such that no\nknight could tread thereon but straight his courage fell and his\nstrength decayed. King Arthur felt the charm, and before a blow\nwas struck, his sturdy limbs lost their strength, and his head\ngrew faint. He was fain to yield himself prisoner to the churlish\nknight, who refused to release him except upon condition that he\nshould return at the end of a year, and bring a true answer to the\nquestion, \"What thing is it which women most desire?\" or in\ndefault thereof surrender himself and his lands. King Arthur\naccepted the terms, and gave his oath to return at the time\nappointed. During the year the king rode east, and he rode west,\nand inquired of all whom he met what thing it is which all women\nmost desire. Some told him riches; some, pomp and state; some,\nmirth; some, flattery; and some, a gallant knight. But in the\ndiversity of answers he could find no sure dependence. The year\nwas well-nigh spent, when one day, as he rode thoughtfully through\na forest, he saw sitting beneath a tree a lady of such hideous\naspect that he turned away his eyes, and when she greeted him in\nseemly sort, made no answer. \"What wight art thou,\" the lady said,\n\"that will not speak to me? It may chance that I may resolve thy\ndoubts, though I be not fair of aspect.\" \"If thou wilt do so,\"\nsaid King Arthur, \"choose what reward thou wilt, thou grim lady,\nand it shall be given thee.\" \"Swear me this upon thy faith,\" she\nsaid, and Arthur swore it. Then the lady told him the secret, and\ndemanded her reward, which was that the king should find some fair\nand courtly knight to be her husband.\n\nKing Arthur hastened to the grim baron's castle and told him one\nby one all the answers which he had received from his various\nadvisers, except the last, and not one was admitted as the true\none. \"Now yield thee, Arthur,\" the giant said, \"for thou hast not\npaid thy ransom, and thou and thy lands are forfeited to me.\" Then\nKing Arthur said:\n\n    \"Yet hold thy hand, thou proud baron,\n      I pray thee hold thy hand,\n    And give me leave to speak once more,\n      In rescue of my land.\n    This morn as I came over a moor,\n      I saw a lady set,\n    Between an oak and a green holly,\n      All clad in red scarlett.\n    She says ALL WOMEN WOULD HAVE THEIR WILL,\n      This is their chief desire;\n    Now yield, as thou art a baron true,\n      That I have paid my hire.\"\n\n\"It was my sister that told thee this,\" the churlish baron\nexclaimed. \"Vengeance light on her! I will some time or other do\nher as ill a turn.\"\n\nKing Arthur rode homeward, but not light of heart, for he\nremembered the promise he was under to the loathly lady to--give\nher one of his young and gallant knights for a husband. He told\nhis grief to Sir Gawain, his nephew, and he replied, \"Be not sad,\nmy lord, for I will marry the loathly lady.\" King Arthur replied:\n\n    \"Now nay, now nay, good Sir Gawaine,\n      My sister's son ye be;\n    The loathly lady's all too grim,\n      And all too foule for thee.\"\n\nBut Gawain persisted, and the king at last, with sorrow of heart,\nconsented that Gawain should be his ransom. So one day the king\nand his knights rode to the forest, met the loathly lady, and\nbrought her to the court. Sir Gawain stood the scoffs and jeers of\nhis companions as he best might, and the marriage was solemnized,\nbut not with the usual festivities. Chaucer tells us:\n\n    \"... There was no joye ne feste at alle;\n    There n' as but hevinesse and mochel sorwe,\n    For prively he wed her on the morwe,\n    And all day after hid him as an owle,\n    So wo was him his wife loked so foule!\"\n\n[Footnote: N'AS is NOT WAS, contracted; in modern phrase, THERE\nWAS NOT. MOCHEL SORWE is much sorrow; MORWE is MORROW.]\n\nWhen night came, and they were alone together, Sir Gawain could\nnot conceal his aversion; and the lady asked him why he sighed so\nheavily, and turned away his face. He candidly confessed it was on\naccount of three things, her age, her ugliness, and her low\ndegree. The lady, not at all offended, replied with excellent\narguments to all his objections. She showed him that with age is\ndiscretion, with ugliness security from rivals, and that all true\ngentility depends, not upon the accident of birth, but upon the\ncharacter of the individual.\n\nSir Gawain made no reply; but, turning his eyes on his bride, what\nwas his amazement to perceive that she wore no longer the unseemly\naspect that had so distressed him. She then told him that the form\nshe had worn was not her true form, but a disguise imposed upon\nher by a wicked enchanter, and that she was condemned to wear it\nuntil two things should happen: one, that she should obtain some\nyoung and gallant knight to be her husband. This having been done,\none-half of the charm was removed. She was now at liberty to wear\nher true form for half the time, and she bade him choose whether\nhe would have her fair by day, and ugly by night, or the reverse.\nSir Gawain would fain have had her look her best by night, when he\nalone would see her, and show her repulsive visage, if at all, to\nothers. But she reminded him how much more pleasant it would be to\nher to wear her best looks in the throng of knights and ladies by\nday. Sir Gawain yielded, and gave up his will to hers. This alone\nwas wanting to dissolve the charm. The lovely lady now with joy\nassured him that she should change no more, but as she now was, so\nwould she remain by night as well as by day.\n\n    \"Sweet blushes stayned her rud-red cheek,\n      Her eyen were black as sloe,\n    The ripening cherrye swelled her lippe,\n      And all her neck was snow.\n    Sir Gawain kist that ladye faire\n      Lying upon the sheete,\n    And swore, as he was a true knight,\n      The spice was never so swete.\"\n\nThe dissolution of the charm which had held the lady also released\nher brother, the \"grim baron,\" for he too had been implicated in\nit. He ceased to be a churlish oppressor, and became a gallant and\ngenerous knight as any at Arthur's court.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nCARADOC BRIEFBRAS; OR, CARADOC WITH THE SHRUNKEN ARM\n\n\nCaradoc was the son of Ysenne, the beautiful niece of Arthur. He\nwas ignorant who his father was, till it was discovered in the\nfollowing manner: When the youth was of proper years to receive\nthe honors of knighthood, King Arthur held a grand court for the\npurpose of knighting him. On this occasion a strange knight\npresented himself, and challenged the knights of Arthur's court to\nexchange blow for blow with him. His proposal was this--to lay his\nneck on a block for any knight to strike, on condition that, if he\nsurvived the blow, the knight should submit in turn to the same\nexperiment. Sir Kay, who was usually ready to accept all\nchallenges, pronounced this wholly unreasonable, and declared that\nhe would not accept it for all the wealth in the world. And when\nthe knight offered his sword, with which the operation was to be\nperformed, no person ventured to accept it, till Caradoc, growing\nangry at the disgrace which was thus incurred by the Round Table,\nthrew aside his mantle and took it. \"Do you do this as one of the\nbest knights?\" said the stranger. \"No,\" he replied, \"but as one of\nthe most foolish.\" The stranger lays his head upon the block,\nreceives a blow which sends it rolling from his shoulders, walks\nafter it, picks it up, replaces it with great success, and says he\nwill return when the court shall be assembled next year, and claim\nhis turn. When the anniversary arrived, both parties were punctual\nto their engagement. Great entreaties were used by the king and\nqueen, and the whole court, in behalf of Caradoc, but the stranger\nwas inflexible. The young knight laid his head upon the block, and\nmore than once desired him to make an end of the business, and not\nkeep him longer in so disagreeable a state of expectation. At last\nthe stranger strikes him gently with the side of the sword, bids\nhim rise, and reveals to him the fact that he is his father, the\nenchanter Eliaures, and that he gladly owns him for a son, having\nproved his courage and fidelity to his word.\n\nBut the favor of enchanters is short-lived and uncertain. Eliaures\nfell under the influence of a wicked woman, who, to satisfy her\npique against Caradoc, persuaded the enchanter to fasten on his\narm a serpent, which remained there sucking at his flesh and\nblood, no human skill sufficing either to remove the reptile or\nalleviate the torments which Caradoc endured.\n\nCaradoc was betrothed to Guimier, sister to his bosom friend,\nCador, and daughter to the king of Cornwall. As soon as they were\ninformed of his deplorable condition, they set out for Nantes,\nwhere Caradoc's castle was, that Guimier might attend upon him.\nWhen Caradoc heard of their coming, his first emotion was that of\njoy and love. But soon he began to fear that the sight of his\nemaciated form, and of his sufferings, would disgust Guimier; and\nthis apprehension became so strong, that he departed secretly from\nNantes, and hid himself in a hermitage. He was sought far and near\nby the knights of Arthur's court, and Cador made a vow never to\ndesist from the quest till he should have found him. After long\nwandering, Cador discovered his friend in the hermitage, reduced\nalmost to a skeleton, and apparently near his death. All other\nmeans of relief having already been tried in vain, Cador at last\nprevailed on the enchanter Eliaures to disclose the only method\nwhich could avail for his rescue. A maiden must be found, his\nequal in birth and beauty, and loving him better than herself, so\nthat she would expose herself to the same torment to deliver him.\nTwo vessels were then to be provided, the one filled with sour\nwine, and the other with milk. Caradoc must enter the first, so\nthat the wine should reach his neck, and the maiden must get into\nthe other, and, exposing her bosom upon the edge of the vessel,\ninvite the serpent to forsake the withered flesh of his victim for\nthis fresh and inviting food. The vessels were to be placed three\nfeet apart, and as the serpent crossed from one to the other. a\nknight was to cut him in two. If he failed in his blow, Caradoc\nwould indeed be delivered, but it would be only to see his fair\nchampion suffering the same cruel and hopeless torment. The sequel\nmay be easily foreseen. Guimier willingly exposed herself to the\nperilous adventure, and Cador, with a lucky blow, killed the\nserpent. The arm in which Caradoc had suffered so long recovered\nits strength, but not its shape, in consequence of which he was\ncalled Caradoc Briefbras, Caradoc of the Shrunken Arm.\n\nCaradoc and Guimier are the hero and heroine of the ballad Of the\n\"Boy and the Mantle,\" which follows:\n\n    \"THE BOY AND THE MANTLE\n\n    \"In Carlisle dwelt King Arthur,\n      A prince of passing might,\n    And there maintained his Table Round,\n      Beset with many a knight.\n\n    \"And there he kept his Christmas,\n      With mirth and princely cheer,\n    When lo! a strange and cunning boy\n      Before him did appear.\n\n    \"A kirtle and a mantle\n      This boy had him upon,\n    With brooches, rings, and ouches,\n      Full daintily bedone.\n\n    \"He had a sash of silk\n      About his middle meet;\n    And thus with seemly curtesie\n      He did King Arthur greet:\n\n    \"'God speed thee, brave King Arthur.\n      Thus feasting in thy bower,\n    And Guenever, thy goodly queen,\n      That fair and peerless flower.\n\n    \"'Ye gallant lords and lordlings,\n      I wish you all take heed,\n    Lest what ye deem a blooming rose\n      Should prove a cankered weed.'\n\n    \"Then straightway from his bosom\n      A little wand he drew;\n    And with it eke a mantle,\n      Of wondrous shape and hue.\n\n    \"'Now have thou here, King Arthur,\n      Have this here of me,\n    And give unto thy comely queen,\n      All shapen as you see.\n\n    \"'No wife it shall become,\n      That once hath been to blame.'\n    Then every knight in Arthur's court\n      Sly glanced at his dame.\n\n    \"And first came Lady Guenever,\n      The mantle she must try.\n    This dame she was new-fangled, [1]\n      And of a roving eye.\n\n    \"When she had taken the mantle,\n      And all with it was clad,\n    From top to toe it shivered down,\n      As though with shears beshred.\n\n    \"One while it was too long,\n      Another while too short,\n    And wrinkled on her shoulders,\n      In most unseemly sort.\n\n    \"Now green, now red it seemed,\n      Then all of sable hue;\n    'Beshrew me,' quoth King Arthur,\n      'I think thou be'st not true!'\n\n    \"Down she threw the mantle,\n      No longer would she stay;\n    But, storming like a fury,\n      To her chamber flung away.\n\n    \"She cursed the rascal weaver,\n      That had the mantle wrought;\n    And doubly cursed the froward imp\n      Who thither had it brought.\n\n    I had rather live in deserts,\n      Beneath the greenwood tree,\n    Than here, base king, among thy grooms\n      The sport of them and thee.'\n\n    \"Sir Kay called forth his lady,\n      And bade her to come near:\n    'Yet dame, if thou be guilty,\n      I pray thee now forbear.'\n\n    \"This lady, pertly giggling,\n      With forward step came on,\n    And boldly to the little boy\n      With fearless face is gone.\n\n    \"When she had taken the mantle,\n      With purpose for to wear,\n    It shrunk up to her shoulder,\n      And left her back all bare.\n\n    \"Then every merry knight,\n      That was in Arthur's court,\n    Gibed and laughed and flouted,\n      To see that pleasant sport.\n\n    \"Down she threw the mantle,\n      No longer bold or gay,\n    But, with a face all pale and wan\n      To her chamber slunk away.\n\n    \"Then forth came an old knight\n      A pattering o'er his creed,\n    And proffered to the little boy\n       Five nobles to his meed:\n\n    \"'And all the time of Christmas\n      Plum-porridge shall be thine,\n    If thou wilt let my lady fair\n      Within the mantle shine.'\n\n    \"A saint his lady seemed,\n      With step demure and slow,\n    And gravely to the mantle\n      With mincing face doth go.\n\n    \"When she the same had taken\n      That was so fine and thin,\n    It shrivelled all about her,\n      And showed her dainty skin.\n\n    \"Ah! little did her mincing,\n      Or his long prayers bestead;\n     She had no more hung on her\n      Than a tassel and a thread.\n\n    \"Down she threw the mantle,\n      With terror and dismay,\n    And with a face of scarlet\n      To her chamber hied away.\n\n    \"Sir Cradock called his lady,\n      And bade her to come near:\n    'Come win this mantle, lady,\n       And do me credit here:\n\n    \"'Come win this mantle, lady,\n      For now it shall be thine,\n    If thou hast never done amiss,\n      Since first I made thee mine.'\n\n    \"The lady, gently blushing,\n      With modest grace came on;\n    And now to try the wondrous charm\n      Courageously is gone.\n\n    \"When she had ta'en the mantle,\n      And put it on her back,\n    About the hem it seemed\n      To wrinkle and to crack.\n\n    \"'Lie still,' she cried, 'O mantle!\n      And shame me not for naught;\n    I'll freely own whate'er amiss\n      Or blameful I have wrought.\n\n    \"'Once I kissed Sir Cradock\n      Beneath the greenwood tree;\n    Once I kissed Sir Cradock's mouth,\n      Before he married me.'\n\n    \"When she had thus her shriven,\n      And her worst fault had told,\n    The mantle soon became her,\n      Right comely as it should.\n\n    \"Most rich and fair of color,\n      Like gold it glittering shone,\n    And much the knights in Arthur's court\n      Admired her every one.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: New-fangled--fond of novelty.]\n\nThe ballad goes on to tell of two more trials of a similar kind,\nmade by means of a boar's head and a drinking horn, in both of\nwhich the result was equally favorable with the first to Sir\nCradock and his lady. It then concludes as follows:\n\n    \"Thus boar's head, horn, and mantle\n      Were this fair couple's meed;\n    And all such constant lovers,\n      God send them well to speed\"\n\n    --Percy's Reliques.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nLAUNCELOT OF THE LAKE\n\n\nKing Ban, of Brittany, the faithful ally of Arthur was attacked by\nhis enemy Claudas, and after a long war saw himself reduced to the\npossession of a single fortress, where he was besieged by his\nenemy. In this extremity he determined to solicit the assistance\nof Arthur, and escaped in a dark night, with his wife Helen and\nhis infant son Launcelot, leaving his castle in the hands of his\nseneschal, who immediately surrendered the place to Claudas. The\nflames of his burning citadel reached the eyes of the unfortunate\nmonarch during his flight and he expired with grief. The wretched\nHelen, leaving her child on the brink of a lake, flew to receive\nthe last sighs of her husband, and on returning perceived the\nlittle Launcelot in the arms of a nymph, who, on the approach of\nthe queen, threw herself into the lake with the child. This nymph\nwas Viviane, mistress of the enchanter Merlin, better known by the\nname of the Lady of the Lake. Launcelot received his appellation\nfrom having been educated at the court of this enchantress, whose\npalace was situated in the midst, not of a real, but, like the\nappearance which deceives the African traveller, of an imaginary\nlake, whose deluding resemblance served as a barrier to her\nresidence. Here she dwelt not alone, but in the midst of a\nnumerous retinue, and a splendid court of knights and damsels.\n\nThe queen, after her double loss, retired to a convent, where she\nwas joined by the widow of Bohort, for this good king had died of\ngrief on hearing of the death of his brother Ban. His two sons,\nLionel and Bohort, were rescued by a faithful knight, and arrived\nin the shape of greyhounds at the palace of the lake, where,\nhaving resumed their natural form, they were educated along with\ntheir cousin Launcelot.\n\nThe fairy, when her pupil had attained the age of eighteen,\nconveyed him to the court of Arthur for the purpose of demanding\nhis admission to the honor of knighthood; and at the first\nappearance of the youthful candidate the graces of his person,\nwhich were not inferior to his courage and skill in arms, made an\ninstantaneous and indelible impression on the heart of Guenever,\nwhile her charms inspired him with an equally ardent and constant\npassion. The mutual attachment of these lovers exerted, from that\ntime forth, an influence over the whole history of Arthur. For the\nsake of Guenever, Launcelot achieved the conquest of\nNorthumberland, defeated Gallehaut, King of the Marches, who\nafterwards became his most faithful friend and ally, exposed\nhimself in numberless encounters, and brought hosts of prisoners\nto the feet of his sovereign.\n\nSIR LAUNCELOT\n\nAfter King Arthur was come from Rome into England all the knights\nof the Table Round resorted unto him and made him many justs and\ntournaments. And in especial Sir Launcelot of the Lake in all\ntournaments and justs and deeds of arms, both for life and death,\npassed all other knights, and was never overcome, except it were\nby treason or enchantment; and he increased marvellously in\nworship, wherefore Queen Guenever had him in great favor, above\nall other knights. And for certain he loved the queen again above\nall other ladies; and for her he did many deeds of arms, and saved\nher from peril, through his noble chivalry. Thus Sir Launcelot\nrested him long with play and game, and then he thought to prove\nhimself in strange adventures; so he bade his nephew, Sir Lionel,\nto make him ready,-- \"for we two will seek adventures.\" So they\nmounted on their horses, armed at all sights, and rode into a\nforest, and so into a deep plain. And the weather was hot about\nnoon, and Sir Launcelot had great desire to sleep. Then Sir Lionel\nespied a great apple-tree that stood by a hedge, and he said:\n\"Brother, yonder is a fair shadow--there may we rest us and our\nhorses.\" \"It is well said,\" replied Sir Launcelot. So they there\nalighted, and Sir Launcelot laid him down, and his helm under his\nhead, and soon was asleep passing fast. And Sir Lionel waked while\nhe slept. And presently there came three knights riding as fast as\never they might ride, and there followed them but one knight. And\nSir Lionel thought he never saw so great a knight before. So\nwithin a while this great knight overtook one of those knights,\nand smote him so that he fell to the earth. Then he rode to the\nsecond knight and smote him, and so he did to the third knight.\nThen he alighted down and bound all the three knights fast with\ntheir own bridles. When Sir Lionel saw him do thus, he thought to\nassay him, and made him ready silently, not to awake Sir\nLauncelot, and rode after the strong knight, and bade him turn.\nAnd the other smote Sir Lionel so hard that horse and man fell to\nthe earth; and then he alighted down and bound Sir Lionel, and\nthrew him across his own horse; and so he served them all four,\nand rode with them away to his own castle. And when he came there\nhe put them in a deep prison, in which were many more knights in\ngreat distress.\n\nNow while Sir Launcelot lay under the apple-tree sleeping, there\ncame by him four queens of great estate. And that the heat should\nnot grieve them, there rode four knights about them, and bare a\ncloth of green silk on four spears, betwixt them and the sun. And\nthe queens rode on four white mules.\n\nThus as they rode they heard by them a great horse grimly neigh.\nThen they were aware of a sleeping knight, that lay all armed\nunder an apple-tree; and as the queens looked on his face, they\nknew it was Sir Launcelot. Then they began to strive for that\nknight, and each one said she would have him for her love. \"We\nwill not strive,\" said Morgane le Fay, that was King Arthur's\nsister, \"for I will put an enchantment upon him, that he shall not\nwake for six hours, and we will take him away to my castle; and\nthen when he is surely within my hold, I will take the enchantment\nfrom him, and then let him choose which of us he will have for his\nlove.\" So the enchantment was cast upon Sir Launcelot. And then\nthey laid him upon his shield, and bare him so on horseback\nbetween two knights, and brought him unto the castle and laid him\nin a chamber, and at night they sent him his supper. And on the\nmorning came early those four queens, richly dight, and bade him\ngood morning, and he them again. \"Sir knight,\" they said, \"thou\nmust understand thou art our prisoner; and we know thee well, that\nthou art Sir Launcelot of the Lake, King Ban's son, and that thou\nart the noblest knight living. And we know well that there can no\nlady have thy love but one, and that is Queen Guenever; and now\nthou shalt lose her for ever, and she thee; and therefore it\nbehooveth thee now to choose one of us. I am the Queen Morgane le\nFay, and here is the Queen of North Wales, and the Queen of\nEastland, and the Queen of the Isles. Now choose one of us which\nthou wilt have, for if thou choose not, in this prison thou shalt\ndie.\" \"This is a hard case,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that either I\nmust die, or else choose one of you; yet had I liever to die in\nthis prison with worship, than to have one of you for my paramour,\nfor ye be false enchantresses.\" \"Well,\" said the queens, \"is this\nyour answer, that ye will refuse us.\" \"Yea, on my life it is,\"\nsaid Sir Launcelot. Then they departed, making great sorrow.\n\nThen at noon came a damsel unto him with his dinner, and asked\nhim, \"What cheer?\" \"Truly, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot,\n\"never so ill.\" \"Sir,\" said she, \"if you will be ruled by me, I\nwill help you out of this distress. If ye will promise me to help\nmy father on Tuesday next, who hath made a tournament betwixt him\nand the king of North Wales; for last Tuesday my father lost the\nfield.\" \"Fair maiden,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"tell me what is your\nfather's name, and then will I give you an answer.\" \"Sir knight,\"\nshe said, \"my father is King Bagdemagus.\" \"I know him well,\" said\nSir Launcelot, \"for a noble king and a good knight; and, by the\nfaith of my body, I will be ready to do your father and you\nservice at that day.\"\n\nSo she departed, and came on the next morning early and found him\nready, and brought him out of twelve locks, and brought him to his\nown horse, and lightly he saddled him, and so rode forth.\n\nAnd on the Tuesday next he came to a little wood where the\ntournament should be. And there were scaffolds and holds, that\nlords and ladies might look on, and give the prize. Then came into\nthe field the king of North Wales, with eightscore helms, and King\nBadgemagus came with fourscore helms. And then they couched their\nspears, and came together with a great dash, and there were\noverthrown at the first encounter twelve of King Bagdemagus's\nparty and six of the king of North Wales's party, and King\nBagdemagus's party had the worse.\n\nWith that came Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and thrust in with his\nspear in the thickest of the press; and he smote down five knights\nere he held his hand; and he smote down the king of North Wales,\nand he brake his thigh in that fall. And then the knights of the\nking of North Wales would just no more; and so the gree was given\nto King Bagdemagus.\n\nAnd Sir Launcelot rode forth with King Bagdemagus unto his castle;\nand there he had passing good cheer, both with the king and with\nhis daughter. And on the morn he took his leave, and told the king\nhe would go and seek his brother, Sir Lionel, that went from him\nwhen he slept. So he departed, and by adventure he came to the\nsame forest where he was taken sleeping. And in the highway he met\na damsel riding on a white palfrey, and they saluted each other.\n\"Fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"know ye in this country any\nadventures?\" \"Sir knight,\" said the damsel, \"here are adventures\nnear at hand, if thou durst pursue them.\" \"Why should I not prove\nadventures?\" said Sir Launcelot, \"since for that cause came I\nhither.\" \"Sir,\" said she, \"hereby dwelleth a knight that will not\nbe overmatched for any man I know, except thou overmatch him. His\nname is Sir Turquine, and, as I understand, he is a deadly enemy\nof King Arthur, and he has in his prison good knights of Arthur's\ncourt, threescore and more, that he hath won with his own hands.\"\n\"Damsel,\" said Launcelot, \"I pray you bring me unto this knight.\"\nSo she told him, \"Hereby, within this mile, is his castle, and by\nit on the left hand is a ford for horses to drink of, and over\nthat ford there groweth a fair tree, and on that tree hang many\nshields that good knights wielded aforetime, that are now\nprisoners; and on the tree hangeth a basin of copper and latten,\nand if thou strike upon that basin thou shalt hear tidings.\" And\nSir Launcelot departed, and rode as the damsel had shown him, and\nshortly he came to the ford, and the tree where hung the shields\nand the basin. And among the shields he saw Sir Lionel's and Sir\nHector's shields, besides many others of knights that he knew.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot struck on the basin with the butt of his spear;\nand long he did so, but he saw no man. And at length he was ware\nof a great knight that drove a horse before him, and across the\nhorse there lay an armed knight bounden. And as they came near,\nSir Launcelot thought he should know the captive knight. Then Sir\nLauncelot saw that it was Sir Gaheris, Sir Gawain's brother, a\nknight of the Table Round. \"Now, fair knight,\" said Sir Launcelot,\n\"put that wounded knight off the horse, and let him rest awhile,\nand let us two prove our strength. For, as it is told me, thou\nhast done great despite and shame unto knights of the Round Table,\ntherefore now defend thee.\" \"If thou be of the Table Round,\" said\nSir Turquine, \"I defy thee and all thy fellowship.\" \"That is\novermuch said,\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\nThen they put their spears in the rests, and came together with\ntheir horses as fast as they might run. And each smote the other\nin the middle of their shields, so that their horses fell under\nthem, and the knights were both staggered; and as soon as they\ncould clear their horses they drew out their swords and came\ntogether eagerly, and each gave the other many strong strokes, for\nneither shield nor harness might withstand their strokes. So\nwithin a while both had grimly wounds, and bled grievously. Then\nat the last they were breathless both, and stood leaning upon\ntheir swords. \"Now, fellow,\" said Sir Turquine, \"thou art the\nstoutest man that ever I met with, and best breathed; and so be it\nthou be not the knight that I hate above all other knights, the\nknight that slew my brother, Sir Carados, I will gladly accord\nwith thee; and for thy love I will deliver all the prisoners that\nI have.\"\n\n\"What knight is he that thou hatest so above others?\" \"Truly,\"\nsaid Sir Turquine, \"his name is Sir Launcelot of the Lake.\" \"I am\nSir Launcelot of the Lake, King Ban's son of Benwick, and very\nknight of the Table Round; and now I defy thee do thy best.\" \"Ah!\"\nsaid Sir Turquine, \"Launcelot, thou art to me the most welcome\nthat ever was knight; for we shall never part till the one of us\nbe dead.\" And then they hurtled together like two wild bulls,\nrashing and lashing with their swords and shields, so that\nsometimes they fell, as it were, headlong. Thus they fought two\nhours and more, till the ground where they fought was all\nbepurpled with blood.\n\nThen at the last Sir Turquine waxed sore faint, and gave somewhat\naback, and bare his shield full low for weariness. That spied Sir\nLauncelot, and leapt then upon him fiercely as a lion, and took\nhim by the beaver of his helmet, and drew him down on his knees.\nAnd he raised off his helm, and smote his neck in sunder.\n\nAnd Sir Gaheris, when he saw Sir Turquine slain, said, \"Fair lord,\nI pray you tell me your name, for this day I say ye are the best\nknight in the world, for ye have slain this day in my sight the\nmightiest man and the best knight except you that ever I saw.\"\n\"Sir, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lac, that ought to help you of\nright for King Arthur's sake, and in especial for Sir Gawain's\nsake, your own dear brother. Now I pray you, that ye go into\nyonder castle, and set free all the prisoners ye find there, for I\nam sure ye shall find there many knights of the Table Round, and\nespecially my brother Sir Lionel. I pray you greet them all from\nme, and tell them I bid them take there such stuff as they find;\nand tell my brother to go unto the court and abide me there, for\nby the feast of Pentecost I think to be there; but at this time I\nmay not stop, for I have adventures on hand.\" So he departed, and\nSir Gaheris rode into the castle, and took the keys from the\nporter, and hastily opened the prison door and let out all the\nprisoners. There was Sir Kay, Sir Brandeles, and Sir Galynde, Sir\nBryan, and Sir Alyduke, Sir Hector de Marys, and Sir Lionel, and\nmany more. And when they saw Sir Gaheris they all thanked him, for\nthey thought, because he was wounded, that he had slain Sir\nTurquine. \"Not so,\" said Sir Gaheris; \"it was Sir Launcelot that\nslew him, right worshipfully; I saw it with mine eyes.\"\n\nSir Launcelot rode till at nightfall he came to a fair castle, and\ntherein he found an old gentlewoman, who lodged him with good-\nwill, and there he had good cheer for him and his horse. And when\ntime was, his host brought him to a fair chamber over the gate to\nhis bed. Then Sir Launcelot unarmed him, and set his harness by\nhim, and went to bed, and anon he fell asleep. And soon after,\nthere came one on horseback and knocked at the gate in great\nhaste; and when Sir Launcelot heard this, he arose and looked out\nof the window, and saw by the moonlight three knights riding after\nthat one man, and all three lashed on him with their swords, and\nthat one knight turned on them knightly again and defended\nhimself. \"Truly,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"yonder one knight will I\nhelp, for it is shame to see three knights on one.\" Then he took\nhis harness and went out at the window by a sheet down to the four\nknights; and he said aloud, \"Turn you knights unto me, and leave\nyour fighting with that knight.\" Then the knights left Sir Kay,\nfor it was he they were upon, and turned unto Sir Launcelot, and\nstruck many great strokes at Sir Launcelot, and assailed him on\nevery side. Then Sir Kay addressed him to help Sir Launcelot, but\nhe said, \"Nay, sir, I will none of your help; let me alone with\nthem.\" So Sir Kay suffered him to do his will, and stood one side.\nAnd within six strokes Sir Launcelot had stricken them down.\n\nThen they all cried, \"Sir knight, we yield us unto you.\" \"As to\nthat,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I will not take your yielding unto me.\nIf so be ye will yield you unto Sir Kay the Seneschal, I will save\nyour lives, but else not.\" \"Fair knight,\" then they said, \"we will\ndo as thou commandest us.\" \"Then shall ye,\" said Sir Launcelot,\n\"on Whitsunday next, go unto the court of King Arthur, and there\nshall ye yield you unto Queen Guenever, and say that Sir Kay sent\nyou thither to be her prisoners.\" \"Sir,\" they said, \"it shall be\ndone, by the faith of our bodies;\" and then they swore, every\nknight upon his sword. And so Sir Launcelot suffered them to\ndepart.\n\nOn the morn Sir Launcelot rose early and left Sir Kay sleeping;\nand Sir Launcelot took Sir Kay's armor, and his shield, and armed\nhim, and went to the stable and took his horse, and so he\ndeparted. Then soon after arose Sir Kay, and missed Sir Launcelot.\nAnd then he espied that he had taken his armor and his horse.\n\"Now, by my faith, I know well,\" said Sir Kay, \"that he will\ngrieve some of King Arthur's knights, for they will deem that it\nis I, and will be bold to meet him. But by cause of his armor I am\nsure I shall ride in peace.\" Then Sir Kay thanked his host and\ndeparted.\n\nSir Launcelot rode in a deep forest, and there he saw four\nknights, under an oak, and they were of Arthur's court. There was\nSir Sagramour le Desirus, and Hector de Marys, and Sir Gawain, and\nSir Uwaine. As they spied Sir Launcelot they judged by his arms it\nhad been Sir Kay. \"Now, by my faith,\" said Sir Sagramour, \"I will\nprove Sir Kay's might;\" and got his spear in his hand, and came\ntowards Sir Launcelot. Therewith Sir Launcelot couched his spear\nagainst him, and smote Sir Sagramour so sore that horse and man\nfell both to the earth. Then said Sir Hector, \"Now shall ye see\nwhat I may do with him.\" But he fared worse than Sir Sagramour,\nfor Sir Launcelot's spear went through his shoulder and bare him\nfrom his horse to the ground. \"By my faith,\" said Sir Uwaine,\n\"yonder is a strong knight, and I fear he hath slain Sir Kay, and\ntaken his armor.\" And therewith Sir Uwaine took his spear in hand,\nand rode toward Sir Launcelot; and Sir Launcelot met him on the\nplain and gave him such a buffet that he was staggered, and wist\nnot where he was. \"Now see I well,\" said Sir Gawain, \"that I must\nencounter with that knight.\" Then he adjusted his shield, and took\na good spear in his hand, and Sir Launcelot knew him well. Then\nthey let run their horses with all their mights, and each knight\nsmote the other in the middle of his shield. But Sir Gawain's\nspear broke, and Sir Launcelot charged so sore upon him that his\nhorse fell over backward. Then Sir Launcelot passed by smiling\nwith himself, and he said, \"Good luck be with him that made this\nspear, for never came a better into my hand.\" Then the four\nknights went each to the other and comforted one another. \"What\nsay ye to this adventure,\" said Sir Gawain, \"that one spear hath\nfelled us all four?\" \"I dare lay my head it is Sir Launcelot,\"\nsaid Sir Hector; \"I know it by his riding.\"\n\nAnd Sir Launcelot rode through many strange countries, till by\nfortune he came to a fair castle; and as he passed beyond the\ncastle he thought he heard two bells ring. And then he perceived\nhow a falcon came flying over his head, toward a high elm; and she\nhad long lunys [Footnote: LUNYS, the string with which the falcon\nis held.] about her feet, and she flew unto the elm to take her\nperch, and the lunys got entangled in the bough; and when she\nwould have taken her flight, she hung by the legs fast, and Sir\nLauncelot saw how she hung, and beheld the fair falcon entangled,\nand he was sorry for her. Then came a lady out of the castle and\ncried aloud, \"O Launcelot, Launcelot, as thou art the flower of\nall knights, help me to get my hawk; for if my hawk be lost, my\nlord will slay me, he is so hasty.\" \"What is your lord's name?\"\nsaid Sir Launcelot. \"His name is Sir Phelot, a knight that\nbelongeth to the king of North Wales.\" \"Well, fair lady, since ye\nknow my name, and require me of knighthood to help you, I will do\nwhat I may to get your hawk; and yet in truth I am an ill climber,\nand the tree is passing high, and few boughs to help me.\" And\ntherewith Sir Launcelot alighted and tied his horse to the tree,\nand prayed the lady to unarm him. And when he was unarmed, he put\noff his jerkin, and with might and force he clomb up to the\nfalcon, and tied the lunys to a rotten bough, and threw the hawk\ndown with it; and the lady got the hawk in her hand. Then suddenly\nthere came out of the castle her husband, all armed, and with his\nnaked sword in his hand, and said, \"O Knight Launcelot, now have I\ngot thee as I would,\" and stood at the boll of the tree to slay\nhim. \"Ah, lady!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"why have ye betrayed me?\"\n\"She hath done,\" said Sir Phelot, \"but as I commanded her; and\ntherefore there is none other way but thine hour is come, and thou\nmust die.\" \"That were shame unto thee,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"thou\nan armed knight to slay a naked man by treason.\" \"Thou gettest\nnone other grace,\" said Sir Phelot, \"and therefore help thyself if\nthou canst.\" \"Alas!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that ever a knight\nshould die weaponless!\" And therewith he turned his eyes upward\nand downward; and over his head he saw a big bough leafless, and\nhe brake it off from the trunk. And then he came lower, and\nwatched how his own horse stood; and suddenly he leapt on the\nfurther side of his horse from the knight. Then Sir Phelot lashed\nat him eagerly, meaning to have slain him. But Sir Launcelot put\naway the stroke, with the big bough, and smote Sir Phelot\ntherewith on the side of the head, so that he fell down in a swoon\nto the ground. Then Sir Launcelot took his sword out of his hand\nand struck his head from the body. Then said the lady, \"Alas! why\nhast thou slain my husband?\" \"I am not the cause,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"for with falsehood ye would have slain me, and now it\nis fallen on yourselves.\" Thereupon Sir Launcelot got all his\narmor, and put it upon him hastily, for fear of more resort, for\nthe knight's castle was so nigh. And as soon as he might, he took\nhis horse and departed, and thanked God he had escaped that\nadventure.\n\nAnd two days before the feast of Pentecost, Sir Launcelot came\nhome; and the king and all the court were passing glad of his\ncoming. And when Sir Gawain, Sir Uwaine, Sir Sagramour, and Sir\nHector de Marys saw Sir Launcelot in Sir Kay's armor then they\nwist well it was he that smote them down, all with one spear. Then\nthere was laughing and merriment among them; and from time to time\ncame all the knights that Sir Turquine had prisoners, and they all\nhonored and worshipped Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Gaheris said, \"I\nsaw all the battle from the beginning to the end,\" and he told\nKing Arthur all how it was. Then Sir Kay told the king how Sir\nLauncelot had rescued him, and how he \"made the knights yield to\nme, and not to him.\" And there they were, all three, and confirmed\nit all \"And, by my faith,\" said Sir Kay, \"because Sir Launcelot\ntook my harness and left me his, I rode in peace, and no man would\nhave to do with me.\"\n\nAnd so at that time Sir Launcelot had the greatest name of any\nknight of the world, and most was he honored of high and low.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE ADVENTURE OF THE CART\n\n\nIt befell in the month of May, Queen Guenever called to her\nknights of the Table Round, and gave them warning that early upon\nthe morrow she would ride a-maying into the woods and fields\nbeside Westminster; \"and I warn you that there be none of you but\nhe be well horsed, and that ye all be clothed in green, either\nsilk or cloth; and I shall bring with me ten ladies, and every\nknight shall have a lady behind him, and every knight shall have a\nsquire and two yeoman, and all well horsed.\"\n\n    \"For thus it chanced one morn when all the court,\n     Green-suited, but with plumes that mock'd the May,\n     Had been, their wont, a-maying\"\n\n    --Guinevere.\n\nSo they made them ready; and these were the names of the knights:\nSir Kay the Seneschal, Sir Agrivaine, Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramour\nle Desirus, Sir Dodynas le Sauvage, Sir Ozanna, Sir Ladynas, Sir\nPersant of Inde, Sir Ironside, and Sir Pelleas; and these ten\nknights made them ready, in the freshest manner, to ride with the\nqueen. So upon the morn they took their horses with the queen, and\nrode a-maying in woods and meadows, as it pleased them, in great\njoy and delight. Now there was a knight named Maleagans, son to\nKing Brademagus, who loved Queen Guenever passing well, and so had\nhe done long and many years. Now this knight, Sir Maleagans,\nlearned the queen's purpose, and that she had no men of arms with\nher but the ten noble knights all arrayed in green for maying; so\nhe prepared him twenty men of arms, and a hundred archers, to take\ncaptive the queen and her knights.\n\n    \"In the merry month of May,\n     In a morn at break of day,\n     With a troop of damsels playing,\n     The Queen, forsooth, went forth a-maying.\"\n\n    --Old Song.\n\nSo when the queen had mayed, and all were bedecked with herbs,\nmosses, and flowers in the best manner and freshest, right then\ncame out of a wood Sir Maleagans with eightscore men well\nharnessed, and bade the queen and her knights yield them\nprisoners. \"Traitor knight,\" said Queen Guenever, \"what wilt thou\ndo? Wilt thou shame thyself? Bethink thee how thou art a king's\nson, and a knight of the Table Round, and how thou art about to\ndishonor all knighthood and thyself?\" \"Be it as it may,\" said Sir\nMaleagans, \"know you well, madam, I have loved you many a year and\nnever till now could I get you to such advantage as I do now; and\ntherefore I will take you as I find you.\" Then the ten knights of\nthe Round Table drew their swords, and the other party run at them\nwith their spears, and the ten knights manfully abode them, and\nsmote away their spears. Then they lashed together with swords\ntill several were smitten to the earth. So when the queen saw her\nknights thus dolefully oppressed, and needs must be slain at the\nlast, then for pity and sorrow she cried, \"Sir Maleagans, slay not\nmy noble knights and I will go with you, upon this covenant, that\nthey be led with me wheresoever thou leadest me.\" \"Madame,\" said\nMaleagans, \"for your sake they shall be led with you into my own\ncastle, if that ye will be ruled, and ride with me.\" Then Sir\nMaleagans charged them all that none should depart from the queen,\nfor he dreaded lest Sir Launcelot should have knowledge of what\nhad been done.\n\nThen the queen privily called unto her a page of her chamber that\nwas swiftly horsed, to whom she said, \"Go thou when thou seest thy\ntime, and bear this ring unto Sir Launcelot, and pray him as he\nloveth me, that he will see me and rescue me. And spare not thy\nhorse,\" said the queen, \"neither for water nor for land.\" So the\nchild espied his time, and lightly he took his horse with the\nspurs and departed as fast as he might. And when Sir Maleagans saw\nhim so flee, he understood that it was by the queen's commandment\nfor to warn Sir Launcelot. Then they that were best horsed chased\nhim, and shot at him, but the child went from them all. Then Sir\nMaleagans said to the queen, \"Madam, ye are about to betray me,\nbut I shall arrange for Sir Launcelot that he shall not come\nlightly at you.\" Then he rode with her and them all to his castle,\nin all the haste that they might. And by the way Sir Maleagans\nlaid in ambush the best archers that he had to wait for Sir\nLauncelot. And the child came to Westminster and found Sir\nLauncelot and told his message and delivered him the queen's ring.\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"now am I shamed for ever, unless I\nmay rescue that noble lady.\" Then eagerly he asked his armor and\nput it on him, and mounted his horse and rode as fast as he might;\nand men say he took the water at Westminster Bridge, and made his\nhorse swim over Thames unto Lambeth. Then within a while he came\nto a wood where was a narrow way; and there the archers were laid\nin ambush. And they shot at him and smote his horse so that he\nfell. Then Sir Launcelot left his horse and went on foot, but\nthere lay so many ditches and hedges betwixt the archers and him\nthat he might not meddle with them. \"Alas! for shame,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"that ever one knight should betray another! but it is\nan old saw, a good man is never in danger, but when he is in\ndanger of a coward.\" Then Sir Launcelot went awhile and he was\nexceedingly cumbered by his armor, his shield, and his spear, and\nall that belonged to him. Then by chance there came by him a cart\nthat came thither to fetch wood.\n\nNow at this time carts were little used except for carrying offal\nand for conveying criminals to execution. But Sir Launcelot took\nno thought of anything but the necessity of haste for the purpose\nof rescuing the queen; so he demanded of the carter that he should\ntake him in and convey him as speedily as possible for a liberal\nreward. The carter consented, and Sir Launcelot placed himself in\nthe cart and only lamented that with much jolting he made but\nlittle progress. Then it happened Sir Gawain passed by and seeing\nan armed knight travelling in that unusual way he drew near to see\nwho it might be. Then Sir Launcelot told him how the queen had\nbeen carried off, and how, in hastening to her rescue, his horse\nhad been disabled and he had been compelled to avail himself of\nthe cart rather than give up his enterprise. Then Sir Gawain said,\n\"Surely it is unworthy of a knight to travel in such sort;\" but\nSir Launcelot heeded him not.\n\nAt nightfall they arrived at a castle and the lady thereof came\nout at the head of her damsels to welcome Sir Gawain. But to admit\nhis companion, whom she supposed to be a criminal, or at least a\nprisoner, it pleased her not; however, to oblige Sir Gawain, she\nconsented. At supper Sir Launcelot came near being consigned to\nthe kitchen and was only admitted to the lady's table at the\nearnest solicitation of Sir Gawain. Neither would the damsels\nprepare a bed for him. He seized the first he found unoccupied and\nwas left undisturbed.\n\nNext morning he saw from the turrets of the castle a train\naccompanying a lady, whom he imagined to be the queen. Sir Gawain\nthought it might be so, and became equally eager to depart. The\nlady of the castle supplied Sir Launcelot with a horse and they\ntraversed the plain at full speed. They learned from some\ntravellers whom they met, that there were two roads which led to\nthe castle of Sir Maleagans. Here therefore the friends separated.\nSir Launcelot found his way beset with obstacles, which he\nencountered successfully, but not without much loss of time. As\nevening approached he was met by a young and sportive damsel, who\ngayly proposed to him a supper at her castle. The knight, who was\nhungry and weary, accepted the offer, though with no very good\ngrace. He followed the lady to her castle and ate voraciously of\nher supper, but was quite impenetrable to all her amorous\nadvances. Suddenly the scene changed and he was assailed by six\nfurious ruffians, whom he dealt with so vigorously that most of\nthem were speedily disabled, when again there was a change and he\nfound himself alone with his fair hostess, who informed him that\nshe was none other than his guardian fairy, who had but subjected\nhim to tests of his courage and fidelity. The next day the fairy\nbrought him on his road, and before parting gave him a ring, which\nshe told him would by its changes of color disclose to him all\nenchantments, and enable him to subdue them.\n\nSir Launcelot pursued his journey, without being much incommoded\nexcept by the taunts of travellers, who all seemed to have\nlearned, by some means, his disgraceful drive in the cart. One,\nmore insolent than the rest, had the audacity to interrupt him\nduring dinner, and even to risk a battle in support of his\npleasantry. Launcelot, after an easy victory, only doomed him to\nbe carted in his turn.\n\nAt night he was received at another castle, with great apparent\nhospitality, but found himself in the morning in a dungeon, and\nloaded with chains. Consulting his ring, and finding that this was\nan enchantment, he burst his chains, seized his armor in spite of\nthe visionary monsters who attempted to defend it, broke open the\ngates of the tower, and continued his journey. At length his\nprogress was checked by a wide and rapid torrent, which could only\nbe passed on a narrow bridge, on which a false step would prove\nhis destruction. Launcelot, leading his horse by the bridle, and\nmaking him swim by his side, passed over the bridge, and was\nattacked as soon as he reached the bank by a lion and a leopard,\nboth of which he slew, and then, exhausted and bleeding, seated\nhimself on the grass, and endeavored to bind up his wounds, when\nhe was accosted by Brademagus, the father of Maleagans, whose\ncastle was then in sight, and at no great distance. This king, no\nless courteous than his son was haughty and insolent, after\ncomplimenting Sir Launcelot on the valor and skill he had\ndisplayed in the perils of the bridge and the wild beasts, offered\nhim his assistance, and informed him that the queen was safe in\nhis castle, but could only be rescued by encountering Maleagans.\nLauncelot demanded the battle for the next day, and accordingly it\ntook place, at the foot of the tower, and under the eyes of the\nfair captive. Launcelot was enfeebled by his wounds, and fought\nnot with his usual spirit, and the contest for a time was\ndoubtful; till Guenever exclaimed, \"Ah, Launcelot! my knight,\ntruly have I been told that thou art no longer worthy of me!\"\nThese words instantly revived the drooping knight; he resumed at\nonce his usual superiority, and soon laid at his feet his haughty\nadversary.\n\nHe was on the point of sacrificing him to his resentment, when\nGuenever, moved by the entreaties of Brademagus, ordered him to\nwithhold the blow, and he obeyed. The castle and its prisoners\nwere now at his disposal. Launcelot hastened to the apartment of\nthe queen, threw himself at her feet, and was about to kiss her\nhand, when she exclaimed, \"Ah, Launcelot! why do I see thee again,\nyet feel thee to be no longer worthy of me, after having been\ndisgracefully drawn about the country in a--\" She had not time to\nfinish the phrase, for her lover suddenly started from her, and,\nbitterly lamenting that he had incurred the displeasure of his\nsovereign lady, rushed out of the castle, threw his sword and his\nshield to the right and left, ran furiously into the woods, and\ndisappeared.\n\nIt seems that the story of the abominable cart, which haunted\nLauncelot at every step, had reached the ears of Sir Kay, who had\ntold it to the queen, as a proof that her knight must have been\ndishonored. But Guenever had full leisure to repent the haste with\nwhich she had given credit to the tale. Three days elapsed, during\nwhich Launcelot wandered without knowing where he went, till at\nlast he began to reflect that his mistress had doubtless been\ndeceived by misrepresentation, and that it was his duty to set her\nright. He therefore returned, compelled Maleagans to release his\nprisoners, and, taking the road by which they expected the arrival\nof Sir Gawain, had the satisfaction of meeting him the next day;\nafter which the whole company proceeded gayly towards Camelot.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE LADY OF SHALOTT\n\n\nKing Arthur proclaimed a solemn tournament to be held at\nWinchester. The king, not less impatient than his knights for this\nfestival, set off some days before to superintend the\npreparations, leaving the queen with her court at Camelot. Sir\nLauncelot, under pretence of indisposition, remained behind also.\nHis intention was to attend the tournament--in disguise; and\nhaving communicated his project to Guenever, he mounted his horse,\nset off without any attendant, and, counterfeiting the feebleness\nof age, took the most unfrequented road to Winchester, and passed\nunnoticed as an old knight who was going to be a spectator of the\nsports. Even Arthur and Gawain, who happened to behold him from\nthe windows of a castle under which he passed, were the dupes of\nhis disguise. But an accident betrayed him. His horse happened to\nstumble, and the hero, forgetting for a moment his assumed\ncharacter, recovered the animal with a strength and agility so\npeculiar to himself, that they instantly recognized the inimitable\nLauncelot. They suffered him, however, to proceed on his journey\nwithout interruption, convinced that his extraordinary feats of\narms must discover him at the approaching festival.\n\nIn the evening Launcelot was magnificently entertained as a\nstranger knight at the neighboring castle of Shalott. The lord of\nthis castle had a daughter of exquisite beauty, and two sons\nlately received into the order of knighthood, one of whom was at\nthat time ill in bed, and thereby prevented from attending the\ntournament, for which both brothers had long made preparation.\nLauncelot offered to attend the other, if he were permitted to\nborrow the armor of the invalid, and the lord of Shalott, without\nknowing the name of his guest, being satisfied from his appearance\nthat his son could not have a better assistant in arms, most\nthankfully accepted the offer. In the meantime the young lady, who\nhad been much struck by the first appearance of the stranger\nknight, continued to survey him with increased attention, and,\nbefore the conclusion of supper, became so deeply enamoured of\nhim, that after frequent changes of color, and other symptoms\nwhich Sir Launcelot could not possibly mistake, she was obliged to\nretire to her chamber, and seek relief in tears. Sir Launcelot\nhastened to convey to her, by means of her brother, the\ninformation that his heart was already disposed of, but that it\nwould be his pride and pleasure to act as her knight at the\napproaching tournament. The lady, obliged to be satisfied with\nthat courtesy, presented him her scarf to be worn at the\ntournament.\n\nLauncelot set off in the morning with the young knight, who, on\ntheir approaching Winchester, carried him to the castle of a lady,\nsister to the lord of Shalott, by whom they were hospitably\nentertained. The next day they put on their armor, which was\nperfectly plain and without any device, as was usual to youths\nduring the first year of knighthood, their shields being only\npainted red, as some color was necessary to enable them to be\nrecognized by their attendants. Launcelot wore on his crest the\nscarf of the maid of Shalott, and, thus equipped, proceeded to the\ntournament, where the knights were divided into two companies, the\none commanded by Sir Galehaut, the other by King Arthur. Having\nsurveyed the combat for a short time from without the lists, and\nobserved that Sir Galehaut's party began to give way, they joined\nthe press and attacked the royal knights, the young man choosing\nsuch adversaries as were suited to his strength, while his\ncompanion selected the principal champions of the Round Table, and\nsuccessively overthrew Gawain, Bohort, and Lionel. The\nastonishment of the spectators was extreme, for it was thought\nthat no one but Launcelot could possess such invincible force; yet\nthe favor on his crest seemed to preclude the possibility of his\nbeing thus disguised, for Launcelot had never been known to wear\nthe badge of any but his sovereign lady. At length Sir Hector,\nLauncelot's brother, engaged him, and, after a dreadful combat,\nwounded him dangerously in the head, but was himself completely\nstunned by a blow on the helmet, and felled to the ground; after\nwhich the conqueror rode off at full speed, attended by his\ncompanion.\n\nThey returned to the castle of Shalott, where Launcelot was\nattended with the greatest care by the good earl, by his two sons,\nand, above all, by his fair daughter, whose medical skill probably\nmuch hastened the period of his recovery. His health was almost\ncompletely restored, when Sir Hector, Sir Bohort, and Sir Lionel,\nwho, after the return of the court to Camelot, had undertaken the\nquest of their relation, discovered him walking on the walls of\nthe castle. Their meeting was very joyful; they passed three days\nin the castle amidst constant festivities, and bantered each other\non the events of the tournament. Launcelot, though he began by\nvowing vengeance against the author of his wound, yet ended by\ndeclaring that he felt rewarded for the pain by the pride he took\nin witnessing his brother's extraordinary prowess. He then\ndismissed them with a message to the queen, promising to follow\nimmediately, it being necessary that he should first take a formal\nleave of his kind hosts, as well as of the fair maid of Shalott.\n\nThe young lady, after vainly attempting to detain him by her tears\nand solicitations, saw him depart without leaving her any ground\nfor hope.\n\nIt was early summer when the tournament took place; but some\nmonths had passed since Launcelot's departure, and winter was now\nnear at hand. The health and strength of the Lady of Shalott had\ngradually sunk, and she felt that she could not live apart from\nthe object of her affections. She left the castle, and descending\nto the river's brink placed herself in a boat, which she loosed\nfrom its moorings, and suffered to bear her down the current\ntoward Camelot.\n\nOne morning, as Arthur and Sir Lionel looked from the window of\nthe tower, the walls of which were washed by a river, they\ndescried a boat richly ornamented, and covered with an awning of\ncloth of gold, which appeared to be floating down the stream\nwithout any human guidance. It struck the shore while they watched\nit, and they hastened down to examine it. Beneath the awning they\ndiscovered the dead body of a beautiful woman, in whose features\nSir Lionel easily recognized the lovely maid of Shalott. Pursuing\ntheir search, they discovered a purse richly embroidered with gold\nand jewels, and within the purse a letter, which Arthur opened,\nand found addressed to himself and all the knights of the Round\nTable, stating that Launcelot of the Lake, the most accomplished\nof knights and most beautiful of men, but at the same time the\nmost cruel and inflexible, had by his rigor produced the death of\nthe wretched maiden, whose love was no less invincible than his\ncruelty. The king immediately gave orders for the interment of the\nlady with all the honors suited to her rank, at the same time\nexplaining to the knights the history of her affection for\nLauncelot, which moved the compassion and regret of all.\n\nTennyson has chosen the story of the \"Lady of Shalott\" for the\nsubject of a poem. The catastrophe is told thus:\n\n      \"Under tower and balcony,\n      By garden-wall and gallery,\n      A gleaming shape she floated by,\n      A corse between the houses high,\n          Silent into Camelot.\n      Out upon the wharfs they came,\n      Knight and burgher, lord and dame,\n      And round the prow they read her name,\n          'The Lady of Shalott'\n\n      \"Who is this? and what is here?\n      And in the lighted palace near\n      Died the sound of royal cheer;\n      And they crossed themselves for fear,\n\n      All the knights at Camelot.\n      But Launcelot mused a little space;\n      He said, 'She has a lovely face;\n      God in his mercy lend her grace,\n          The Lady of Shalott.'\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nQUEEN GUENEVER'S PERIL\n\n\nIt happened at this time that Queen Guenever was thrown into great\nperil of her life. A certain squire who was in her immediate\nservice, having some cause of animosity to Sir Gawain, determined\nto destroy him by poison, at a public entertainment. For this\npurpose he concealed the poison in an apple of fine appearance,\nwhich he placed on the top of several others, and put the dish\nbefore the queen, hoping that, as Sir Gawain was the knight of\ngreatest dignity, she would present the apple to him. But it\nhappened that a Scottish knight of high distinction, who arrived\non that day, was seated next to the queen, and to him as a\nstranger she presented the apple, which he had no sooner eaten\nthan he was seized with dreadful pain, and fell senseless. The\nwhole court was, of course, thrown into confusion; the knights\nrose from table, darting looks of indignation at the wretched\nqueen, whose tears and protestations were unable to remove their\nsuspicions. In spite of all that could be done the knight died,\nand nothing remained but to order a magnificent funeral and\nmonument for him, which was done.\n\nSome time after Sir Mador, brother of the murdered knight, arrived\nat Arthur's court in quest of him. While hunting in the forest he\nby chance came to the spot where the monument was erected, read\nthe inscription, and returned to court determined on immediate and\nsignal vengeance. He rode into the hall, loudly accused the queen\nof treason, and insisted on her being given up for punishment,\nunless she should find by a certain day a knight hardy enough to\nrisk his life in support of her innocence. Arthur, powerful as he\nwas, did not dare to deny the appeal, but was compelled with a\nheavy heart to accept it, and Mador sternly took his departure,\nleaving the royal couple plunged in terror and anxiety.\n\nDuring all this time Launcelot was absent, and no one knew where\nhe was. He fled in anger from his fair mistress, upon being\nreproached by her with his passion for the Lady of Shalott, which\nshe had hastily inferred from his wearing her scarf at the\ntournament. He took up his abode with a hermit in the forest, and\nresolved to think no more of the cruel beauty, whose conduct he\nthought must flow from a wish to get rid of him. Yet calm\nreflection had somewhat cooled his indignation, and he had begun\nto wish, though hardly able to hope, for a reconciliation when the\nnews of Sir Mador's challenge fortunately reached his ears. The\nintelligence revived his spirits, and he began to prepare with the\nutmost cheerfulness for a contest which, if successful, would\ninsure him at once the affection of his mistress and the gratitude\nof his sovereign.\n\nThe sad fate of the Lady of Shalott had ere this completely\nacquitted Launcelot in the queen's mind of all suspicion of his\nfidelity, and she lamented most grievously her foolish quarrel\nwith him, which now, at her time of need, deprived her of her most\nefficient champion.\n\nAs the day appointed by Sir Mador was fast approaching, it became\nnecessary that she should procure a champion for her defence; and\nshe successively adjured Sir Hector, Sir Lionel, Sir Bohort, and\nSir Gawain to undertake the battle. She fell on her knees before\nthem, called heaven to witness her innocence of the crime alleged\nagainst her, but was sternly answered by all that they could not\nfight to maintain the innocence of one whose act, and the fatal\nconsequence of it, they had seen with their own eyes. She retired,\ntherefore, dejected and disconsolate; but the sight of the fatal\npile on which, if guilty, she was doomed to be burned, exciting\nher to fresh effort, she again repaired to Sir Bohort, threw\nherself at his feet, and piteously calling on him for mercy, fell\ninto a swoon. The brave knight was not proof against this. He\nraised her up, and hastily promised that he would undertake her\ncause, if no other or better champion should present himself. He\nthen summoned his friends, and told them his resolution; and as a\nmortal combat with Sir Mador was a most fearful enterprise, they\nagreed to accompany him in the morning to the hermitage in the\nforest, where he proposed to receive absolution from the hermit,\nand to make his peace with Heaven before he entered the lists. As\nthey approached the hermitage, they espied a knight riding in the\nforest, whom they at once recognized as Sir Launcelot. Overjoyed\nat the meeting, they quickly, in answer to his questions,\nconfirmed the news of the queen's imminent danger, and received\nhis instructions to return to court, to comfort her as well as\nthey could, but to say nothing of his intention of undertaking her\ndefence, which he meant to do in the character of an unknown\nadventurer.\n\nOn their return to the castle they found that mass was finished,\nand had scarcely time to speak to the queen before they were\nsummoned into the hall to dinner. A general gloom was spread over\nthe countenances of all the guests. Arthur himself was unable to\nconceal his dejection, and the wretched Guenever, motionless and\nbathed in tears, sat in trembling expectation of Sir Mador's\nappearance. Nor was it long ere he stalked into the hall, and with\na voice of thunder, rendered more impressive by the general\nsilence, demanded instant justice on the guilty party. Arthur\nreplied with dignity, that little of the day was yet spent, and\nthat perhaps a champion might yet be found capable of satisfying\nhis thirst for battle. Sir Bohort now rose from table, and shortly\nreturning in complete armor, resumed his place, after receiving\nthe embraces and thanks of the king, who now began to resume some\ndegree of confidence. Sir Mador, growing impatient, again repeated\nhis denunciations of vengeance, and insisted that the combat\nshould no longer be postponed.\n\nIn the height of the debate there came riding into the hall a\nknight mounted on a black steed, and clad in black armor, with his\nvisor down, and lance in hand. \"Sir,\" said the king, \"is it your\nwill to alight and partake of our cheer?\" \"Nay, sir,\" he replied;\n\"I come to save a lady's life. The queen hath ill bestowed her\nfavors, and honored many a knight, that in her hour of need she\nshould have none to take her part. Thou that darest accuse her of\ntreachery, stand forth, for to-day shalt thou need all thy might.\"\n\nSir Mador, though surprised, was not appalled by the stern\nchallenge and formidable appearance of his antagonist, but\nprepared for the encounter. At the first shock both were unhorsed.\nThey then drew their swords, and commenced a combat which lasted\nfrom noon till evening, when Sir Mador, whose strength began to\nfail, was felled to the ground by Launcelot, and compelled to sue\nfor mercy. The victor, whose arm was already raised to terminate\nthe life of his opponent, instantly dropped his sword, courteously\nlifted up the fainting Sir Mador, frankly confessing that he had\nnever before encountered so formidable an enemy. The other, with\nsimilar courtesy, solemnly renounced all further projects of\nvengeance for his brother's death; and the two knights, now become\nfast friends, embraced each other with the greatest cordiality. In\nthe meantime Arthur, having recognized Sir Launcelot, whose helmet\nwas now unlaced, rushed down into the lists, followed by all his\nknights, to welcome and thank his deliverer. Guenever swooned with\njoy, and the place of combat suddenly exhibited a scene of the\nmost tumultuous delight.\n\nThe general satisfaction was still further increased by the\ndiscovery of the real culprit. Having accidentally incurred some\nsuspicion, he confessed his crime, and was publicly punished in\nthe presence of Sir Mador.\n\nThe court now returned to the castle, which, with the title of \"La\nJoyeuse Garde\" bestowed upon it in memory of the happy event, was\nconferred on Sir Launcelot by Arthur, as a memorial of his\ngratitude.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTRISTRAM AND ISOUDE\n\n\nMeliadus was king of Leonois, or Lionesse, a country famous in the\nannals of romance, which adjoined the kingdom of Cornwall, but has\nnow disappeared from the map, having been, it is said, overwhelmed\nby the ocean. Meliadus was married to Isabella, sister of Mark,\nking of Cornwall. A fairy fell in love with him, and drew him away\nby enchantment while he was engaged in hunting. His queen set out\nin quest of him, but was taken ill on her journey, and died,\nleaving an infant son, whom, from the melancholy circumstances of\nhis birth, she called Tristram.\n\nGouvernail, the queen's squire, who had accompanied her, took\ncharge of the child, and restored him to his father, who had at\nlength burst the enchantments of the fairy, and returned home.\n\nMeliadus after seven years married again, and the new queen, being\njealous of the influence of Tristram with his father, laid plots\nfor his life, which were discovered by Gouvernail, who in\nconsequence fled with the boy to the court of the king of France,\nwhere Tristram was kindly received, and grew up improving in every\ngallant and knightly accomplishment, adding to his skill in arms\nthe arts of music and of chess. In particular, he devoted himself\nto the chase and to all woodland sports, so that he became\ndistinguished above all other chevaliers of the court for his\nknowledge of all that relates to hunting. No wonder that Belinda,\nthe king's daughter, fell in love with him; but as he did not\nreturn her passion, she, in a sudden impulse of anger, excited her\nfather against him, and he was banished the kingdom. The princess\nsoon repented of her act, and in despair destroyed herself, having\nfirst written a most tender letter to Tristram, sending him at the\nsame time a beautiful and sagacious dog, of which she was very\nfond, desiring him to keep it as a memorial of her. Meliadus was\nnow dead, and as his queen, Tristram's stepmother, held the\nthrone, Gouvernail was afraid to carry his pupil to his native\ncountry, and took him to Cornwall, to his uncle Mark, who gave him\na kind reception.\n\nKing Mark resided at the castle of Tintadel, already mentioned in\nthe history of Uther and Igerne. In this court Tristram became\ndistinguished in all the exercises incumbent on a knight; nor was\nit long before he had an opportunity of practically employing his\nvalor and skill. Moraunt, a celebrated champion, brother to the\nqueen of Ireland, arrived at the court, to demand tribute of King\nMark. The knights of Cornwall are in ill repute in romance for\ntheir cowardice, and they exhibited it on this occasion. King Mark\ncould find no champion who dared to encounter the Irish knight,\ntill his nephew Tristram, who had not yet received the honors of\nknighthood, craved to be admitted to the order, offering at the\nsame time to fight the battle of Cornwall against the Irish\nchampion. King Mark assented with reluctance; Tristram received\nthe accolade, which conferred knighthood upon him, and the place\nand time were assigned for the encounter.\n\nWithout attempting to give the details of this famous combat, the\nfirst and one of the most glorious of Tristram's exploits, we\nshall only say that the young knight, though severely wounded,\ncleft the head of Moraunt, leaving a portion of his sword in the\nwound. Moraunt, half dead with his wound and the disgrace of his\ndefeat, hastened to hide himself in his ship, sailed away with all\nspeed for Ireland, and died soon after arriving in his own\ncountry.\n\nThe kingdom of Cornwall was thus delivered from its tribute.\nTristram, weakened by loss of blood, fell senseless. His friends\nflew to his assistance. They dressed his wounds, which in general\nhealed readily; but the lance of Moraunt was poisoned, and one\nwound which it made yielded to no remedies, but grew worse day by\nday. The surgeons could do no more. Tristram asked permission of\nhis uncle to depart, and seek for aid in the kingdom of Loegria\n(England). With his consent he embarked, and after tossing for\nmany days on the sea, was driven by the winds to the coast of\nIreland. He landed, full of joy and gratitude that he had escaped\nthe peril of the sea; took his rote,[Footnote: A musical\ninstrument.] and began to play. It was a summer evening, and the\nking of Ireland and his daughter, the beautiful Isoude, were at a\nwindow which overlooked the sea. The strange harper was sent for,\nand conveyed to the palace, where, finding that he was in Ireland,\nwhose champion he had lately slain, he concealed his name, and\ncalled himself Tramtris. The queen undertook his cure, and by a\nmedicated bath gradually restored him to health. His skill in\nmusic and in games occasioned his being frequently called to\ncourt, and he became the instructor of the princess Isoude in\nminstrelsy and poetry, who profited so well under his care, that\nshe soon had no equal in the kingdom, except her instructor.\n\nAt this time a tournament was held, at which many knights of the\nRound Table, and others, were present. On the first day a Saracen\nprince, named Palamedes, obtained the advantage over all. They\nbrought him to the court, and gave him a feast, at which Tristram,\njust recovering from his wound, was present. The fair Isoude\nappeared on this occasion in all her charms. Palamedes could not\nbehold them without emotion, and made no effort to conceal his\nlove. Tristram perceived it, and the pain he felt from jealousy\ntaught him how dear the fair Isoude had already become to him.\n\nNext day the tournament was renewed. Tristram, still feeble from\nhis wound, rose during the night, took his arms, and concealed\nthem in a forest near the place of the contest, and, after it had\nbegun, mingled with the combatants. He overthrew all that\nencountered him, in particular Palamedes, whom he brought to the\nground with a stroke of his lance, and then fought him hand to\nhand, bearing off the prize of the tourney. But his exertions\ncaused his wound to reopen; he bled fast, and in this sad state,\nyet in triumph, they bore him to the palace. The fair Isoude\ndevoted herself to his relief with an interest which grew more\nvivid day by day; and her skilful care soon restored him to\nhealth.\n\nIt happened one day that a damsel of the court, entering the\ncloset where Tristram's arms were deposited, perceived that a part\nof the sword had been broken off. It occurred to her that the\nmissing portion was like that which was left in the skull of\nMoraunt, the Irish champion. She imparted her thought to the\nqueen, who compared the fragment taken from her brother's wound\nwith the sword of Tristram, and was satisfied that it was part of\nthe same, and that the weapon of Tristram was that which reft her\nbrother's life. She laid her griefs and resentment before the\nking, who satisfied himself with his own eyes of the truth of her\nsuspicions. Tristram was cited before the whole court, and\nreproached with having dared to present himself before them after\nhaving slain their kinsman. He acknowledged that he had fought\nwith Moraunt to settle the claim for tribute, and said that it was\nby force of winds and waves alone that he was thrown on their\ncoast. The queen demanded vengeance for the death of her brother;\nthe fair Isoude trembled and grew pale, but a murmur rose from all\nthe assembly that the life of one so handsome and so brave should\nnot be taken for such a cause, and generosity finally triumphed\nover resentment in the mind of the king. Tristram was dismissed in\nsafety, but commanded to leave the kingdom without delay, and\nnever to return thither under pain of death Tristram went back,\nwith restored health, to Cornwall.\n\nKing Mark made his nephew give him a minute recital of his\nadventures. Tristram told him all minutely; but when he came to\nspeak of the fair Isoude he described her charms with a warmth and\nenergy such as none but a lover could display. King Mark was\nfascinated with the description, and, choosing a favorable time,\ndemanded a boon[Footnote: \"Good faith was the very corner-stone of\nchivalry. Whenever a knight's word was pledged (it mattered not\nhow rashly) it was to be redeemed at any price. Hence the sacred\nobligation of the boon granted by a knight to his suppliant.\nInstances without number occur in romance, in which a knight, by\nrashly granting an indefinite boon, was obliged to do or suffer\nsomething extremely to his prejudice. But it is not in romance\nalone that we find such singular instances of adherence to an\nindefinite promise. The history of the times presents authentic\ntransactions equally embarrassing and absurd\"--SCOTT, note to Sir\nTristram.] of his nephew, who readily granted it. The king made\nhim swear upon the holy reliques that he would fulfil his\ncommands. Then Mark directed him to go to Ireland, and obtain for\nhim the fair Isoude to be queen of Cornwall.\n\nTristram believed it was certain death for him to return to\nIreland; and how could he act as ambassador for his uncle in such\na cause? Yet, bound by his oath, he hesitated not for an instant.\nHe only took the precaution to change his armor. He embarked for\nIreland; but a tempest drove him to the coast of England, near\nCamelot, where King Arthur was holding his court, attended by the\nknights of the Round Table, and many others, the most illustrious\nin the world.\n\nTristram kept himself unknown. He took part in many justs; he\nfought many combats, in which he covered himself with glory. One\nday he saw among those recently arrived the king of Ireland,\nfather of the fair Isoude. This prince, accused of treason against\nhis liege sovereign, Arthur, came to Camelot to free himself from\nthe charge. Blaanor, one of the most redoubtable warriors of the\nRound Table, was his accuser, and Argius, the king, had neither\nyouthful vigor nor strength to encounter him. He must therefore\nseek a champion to sustain his innocence. But the knights of the\nRound Table were not at liberty to fight against one another,\nunless in a quarrel of their own. Argius heard of the great renown\nof the unknown knight; he also was witness of his exploits. He\nsought him, and conjured him to adopt his defence, and on his oath\ndeclared that he was innocent of the crime of which he was\naccused. Tristram readily consented, and made himself known to the\nking, who on his part promised to reward his exertions, if\nsuccessful, with whatever gift he might ask.\n\nTristram fought with Blaanor, and overthrew him, and held his life\nin his power. The fallen warrior called on him to use his right of\nconquest, and strike the fatal blow. \"God forbid,\" said Tristram,\n\"that I should take the life of so brave a knight!\" He raised him\nup and restored him to his friends. The judges of the field\ndecided that the king of Ireland was acquitted of the charge\nagainst him, and they led Tristram in triumph to his tent. King\nArgius, full of gratitude, conjured Tristram to accompany him to\nhis kingdom. They departed together, and arrived in Ireland; and\nthe queen, forgetting her resentment for her brother's death,\nexhibited to the preserver of her husband's life nothing but\ngratitude and good-will.\n\nHow happy a moment for Isoude, who knew that her father had\npromised his deliverer whatever boon he might ask! But the unhappy\nTristram gazed on her with despair, at the thought of the cruel\noath which bound him. His magnanimous soul subdued the force of\nhis love. He revealed the oath which he had taken, and with\ntrembling voice demanded the fair Isoude for his uncle.\n\nArgius consented, and soon all was prepared for the departure of\nIsoude. Brengwain, her favorite maid of honor, was to accompany\nher. On the day of departure the queen took aside this devoted\nattendant, and told her that she had observed that her daughter\nand Tristram were attached to one another, and that to avert the\nbad effects of this inclination she had procured from a powerful\nfairy a potent philter (love-draught), which she directed\nBrengwain to administer to Isoude and to King Mark on the evening\nof their marriage.\n\nIsoude and Tristram embarked together. A favorable wind filled the\nsails, and promised them a fortunate voyage. The lovers gazed upon\none another, and could not repress their sighs. Love seemed to\nlight up all his fires on their lips, as in their hearts. The day\nwas warm; they suffered from thirst. Isoude first complained.\nTristram descried the bottle containing the love-draught, which\nBrengwain had been so imprudent as to leave in sight. He took it,\ngave some of it to the charming Isoude, and drank the remainder\nhimself. The dog Houdain licked the cup. The ship arrived in\nCornwall, and Isoude was married to King Mark, The old monarch was\ndelighted with his bride, and his gratitude to Tristram was\nunbounded. He loaded him with honors, and made him chamberlain of\nhis palace, thus giving him access to the queen at all times.\n\nIn the midst of the festivities of the court which followed the\nroyal marriage, an unknown minstrel one day presented himself,\nbearing a harp of peculiar construction. He excited the curiosity\nof King Mark by refusing to play upon it till he should grant him\na boon. The king having promised to grant his request, the\nminstrel, who was none other than the Saracen knight, Sir\nPalamedes, the lover of the fair Isoude, sung to the harp a lay,\nin which he demanded Isoude as the promised gift. King Mark could\nnot by the laws of knighthood withhold the boon. The lady was\nmounted on her horse, and led away by her triumphant lover.\nTristram, it is needless to say, was absent at the time, and did\nnot return until their departure. When he heard what had taken\nplace he seized his rote, and hastened to the shore, where Isoude\nand her new master had already embarked. Tristram played upon his\nrote, and the sound reached the ears of Isoude, who became so\ndeeply affected, that Sir Palamedes was induced to return with her\nto land, that they might see the unknown musician. Tristram\nwatched his opportunity, seized the lady's horse by the bridle,\nand plunged with her into the forest, tauntingly informing his\nrival that \"what he had got by the harp he had lost by the rote.\"\nPalamedes pursued, and a combat was about to commence, the result\nof which must have been fatal to one or other of these gallant\nknights; but Isoude stepped between them, and, addressing\nPalamedes, said, \"You tell me that you love me; you will not then\ndeny me the request I am about to make?\" \"Lady,\" he replied, \"I\nwill perform your bidding.\" \"Leave, then,\" said she, \"this\ncontest, and repair to King Arthur's court, and salute Queen\nGuenever from me; tell her that there are in the world but two\nladies, herself and I, and two lovers, hers and mine; and come\nthou not in future in any place where I am.\" Palamedes burst into\ntears. \"Ah, lady,\" said he, \"I will obey you; but I beseech you\nthat you will not for ever steel your heart against me.\"\n\"Palamedes,\" she replied, \"may I never taste of joy again if I\never quit my first love.\" Palamedes then went his way. The lovers\nremained a week in concealment, after which Tristram restored\nIsoude to her husband, advising him in future to reward minstrels\nin some other way.\n\nThe king showed much gratitude to Tristram, but in the bottom of\nhis heart he cherished bitter jealousy of him. One day Tristram\nand Isoude were alone together in her private chamber. A base and\ncowardly knight of the court, named Andret, spied them through a\nkeyhole. They sat at a table of chess, but were not attending to\nthe game. Andret brought the king, having first raised his\nsuspicions, and placed him so as to watch their motions. The king\nsaw enough to confirm his suspicions, and he burst into the\napartment with his sword drawn, and had nearly slain Tristram\nbefore he was put on his guard. But Tristram avoided the blow,\ndrew his sword, and drove before him the cowardly monarch, chasing\nhim through all the apartments of the palace, giving him frequent\nblows with the flat of his sword, while he cried in vain to his\nknights to save him. They were not inclined, or did not dare, to\ninterpose in his behalf.\n\nA proof of the great popularity of the tale of Sir Tristram is the\nfact that the Italian poets, Boiardo and Ariosto, have founded\nupon it the idea of the two enchanted fountains, which produced\nthe opposite effects of love and hatred. Boiardo thus describes\nthe fountain of hatred:\n\n   \"Fair was that fountain, sculptured all of gold,\n    With alabaster sculptured, rich and rare;\n    And in its basin clear thou might'st behold\n    The flowery marge reflected fresh and fair.\n    Sage Merlin framed the font,--so legends bear,--\n    When on fair Isoude doated Tristram brave,\n    That the good errant knight, arriving there,\n    Might quaff oblivion in the enchanted wave,\n  And leave his luckless love, and 'scape his timeless grave.\n\n   'But ne'er the warrior's evil fate allowed\n    His steps that fountain's charmed verge to gain.\n    Though restless, roving on adventure proud,\n    He traversed oft the land and oft the main.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nTRISTRAM AND ISOUDE (Continued)\n\n\nAfter this affair Tristram was banished from the kingdom, and\nIsoude shut up in a tower, which stood on the bank of a river.\nTristram could not resolve to depart without some further\ncommunication with his beloved; so he concealed himself in the\nforest, till at last he contrived to attract her attention, by\nmeans of twigs which he curiously peeled, and sent down the stream\nunder her window. By this means many secret interviews were\nobtained. Tristram dwelt in the forest, sustaining himself by\ngame, which the dog Houdain ran down for him; for this faithful\nanimal was unequalled in the chase, and knew so well his master's\nwish for concealment, that, in the pursuit of his game, he never\nbarked. At length Tristram departed, but left Houdain with Isoude,\nas a remembrancer of him.\n\nSir Tristram wandered through various countries, achieving the\nmost perilous enterprises, and covering himself with glory, yet\nunhappy at the separation from his beloved Isoude. At length King\nMark's territory was invaded by a neighboring chieftain, and he\nwas forced to summon his nephew to his aid. Tristram obeyed the\ncall, put himself at the head of his uncle's vassals, and drove\nthe enemy out of the country. Mark was full of gratitude, and\nTristram, restored to favor and to the society of his beloved\nIsoude, seemed at the summit of happiness. But a sad reverse was\nat hand.\n\nTristram had brought with him a friend named Pheredin, son of the\nking of Brittany. This young knight saw Queen Isoude, and could\nnot resist her charms. Knowing the love of his friend for the\nqueen, and that that love was returned, Pheredin concealed his\nown, until his health failed, and he feared he was drawing near\nhis end. He then wrote to the beautiful queen that he was dying\nfor love of her.\n\nThe gentle Isoude, in a moment of pity for the friend of Tristram,\nreturned him an answer so kind and compassionate that it restored\nhim to life. A few days afterwards Tristram found this letter. The\nmost terrible jealousy took possession of his soul; he would have\nslain Pheredin, who with difficulty made his escape. Then Tristram\nmounted his horse, and rode to the forest, where for ten days he\ntook no rest nor food. At length he was found by a damsel lying\nalmost dead by the brink of a fountain. She recognized him, and\ntried in vain to rouse his attention. At last recollecting his\nlove for music she went and got her harp, and played thereon.\nTristram was roused from his reverie; tears flowed; he breathed\nmore freely; he took the harp from the maiden, and sung this lay,\nwith a voice broken with sobs:\n\n    \"Sweet I sang in former days,\n     Kind love perfected my lays:\n     Now my art alone displays\n     The woe that on my being preys.\n\n    \"Charming love, delicious power,\n     Worshipped from my earliest hour,\n     Thou who life on all dost shower,\n     Love! my life thou dost devour.\n\n    \"In death's hour I beg of thee,\n     Isoude, dearest enemy,\n     Thou who erst couldst kinder be,\n     When I'm gone, forget not me.\n\n    \"On my gravestone passers-by\n     Oft will read, as low I lie,\n     'Never wight in love could vie\n     With Tristram, yet she let him die.'\"\n\nTristram, having finished his lay, wrote it off and gave it to the\ndamsel, conjuring her to present it to the queen.\n\nMeanwhile Queen Isoude was inconsolable at the absence of\nTristram. She discovered that it was caused by the fatal letter\nwhich she had written to Pheredin. Innocent, but in despair at the\nsad effects of her letter, she wrote another to Pheredin, charging\nhim never to see her again. The unhappy lover obeyed this cruel\ndecree. He plunged into the forest, and died of grief and love in\na hermit's cell.\n\nIsoude passed her days in lamenting the absence and unknown fate\nof Tristram. One day her jealous husband, having entered her\nchamber unperceived, overheard her singing the following lay:\n\n    \"My voice to piteous wail is bent,\n     My harp to notes of languishment;\n     Ah, love! delightsome days be meant\n     For happier wights, with hearts content.\n\n    \"Ah, Tristram' far away from me,\n     Art thou from restless anguish free?\n     Ah! couldst thou so one moment be,\n     From her who so much loveth thee?\"\n\nThe king hearing these words burst forth in a rage; but Isoude was\ntoo wretched to fear his violence. \"You have heard me,\" she said;\n\"I confess it all. I love Tristram, and always shall love him.\nWithout doubt he is dead, and died for me. I no longer wish to\nlive. The blow that shall finish my misery will be most welcome.\"\n\nThe king was moved at the distress of the fair Isoude, and perhaps\nthe idea of Tristram's death tended to allay his wrath. He left\nthe queen in charge of her women, commanding them to take especial\ncare lest her despair should lead her to do harm to herself.\n\nTristram meanwhile, distracted as he was, rendered a most\nimportant service to the shepherds by slaying a gigantic robber\nnamed Taullas, who was in the habit of plundering their flocks and\nrifling their cottages. The shepherds, in their gratitude to\nTristram, bore him in triumph to King Mark to have him bestow on\nhim a suitable reward. No wonder Mark failed to recognize in the\nhalf-clad, wild man, before him his nephew Tristram; but grateful\nfor the service the unknown had rendered he ordered him to be well\ntaken care of, and gave him in charge to the queen and her women.\nUnder such care Tristram rapidly recovered his serenity and his\nhealth, so that the romancer tells us he became handsomer than\never. King Mark's jealousy revived with Tristram's health and good\nlooks, and, in spite of his debt of gratitude so lately increased,\nhe again banished him from the court.\n\nSir Tristram left Cornwall, and proceeded into the land of Loegria\n(England) in quest of adventures. One day he entered a wide\nforest. The sound of a little bell showed him that some inhabitant\nwas near. He followed the sound, and found a hermit, who informed\nhim that he was in the forest of Arnantes, belonging to the fairy\nViviane, the Lady of the Lake, who, smitten with love for King\nArthur, had found means to entice him to this forest, where by\nenchantments she held him a prisoner, having deprived him of all\nmemory of who and what he was. The hermit informed him that all\nthe knights of the Round Table were out in search of the king, and\nthat he (Tristram) was now in the scene of the most grand and\nimportant adventures.\n\nThis was enough to animate Tristram in the search. He had not\nwandered far before he encountered a knight of Arthur's court, who\nproved to be Sir Kay the Seneschal, who demanded of him whence he\ncame. Tristram answering, \"From Cornwall,\" Sir Kay did not let\nslip the opportunity of a joke at the expense of the Cornish\nknight. Tristram chose to leave him in his error, and even\nconfirmed him in it; for meeting some other knights Tristram\ndeclined to just with them. They spent the night together at an\nabbey, where Tristram submitted patiently to all their jokes. The\nSeneschal gave the word to his companions that they should set out\nearly next day, and intercept the Cornish knight on his way, and\nenjoy the amusement of seeing his fright when they should insist\non running a tilt with him. Tristram next morning found himself\nalone; he put on his armor, and set out to continue his quest. He\nsoon saw before him the Seneschal and the three knights, who\nbarred the way, and insisted on a just. Tristram excused himself a\nlong time; at last he reluctantly took his stand. He encountered\nthem, one after the other, and overthrew them all four, man and\nhorse, and then rode off, bidding them not to forget their friend\nthe knight of Cornwall.\n\nTristram had not ridden far when he met a damsel, who cried out,\n\"Ah, my lord! hasten forward, and prevent a horrid treason!\"\nTristram flew to her assistance, and soon reached a spot where he\nbeheld a knight, whom three others had borne to the ground, and\nwere unlacing his helmet in order to cut off his head.\n\nTristram flew to the rescue, and slew with one stroke of his lance\none of the assailants. The knight, recovering his feet, sacrificed\nanother to his vengeance, and the third made his escape. The\nrescued knight then raised the visor of his helmet, and a long\nwhite beard fell down upon his breast. The majesty and venerable\nair of this knight made Tristram suspect that it was none other\nthan Arthur himself, and the prince confirmed his conjecture.\nTristram would have knelt before him, but Arthur received him in\nhis arms, and inquired his name and country; but Tristram declined\nto disclose them, on the plea that he was now on a quest requiring\nsecrecy. At this moment the damsel who had brought Tristram to the\nrescue darted forward, and, seizing the king's hand, drew from his\nfinger a ring, the gift of the fairy, and by that act dissolved\nthe enchantment. Arthur, having recovered his reason and his\nmemory, offered to Tristram to attach him to his court, and to\nconfer honors and dignities upon him; but Tristram declined all,\nand only consented to accompany him till he should see him safe in\nthe hands of his knights. Soon after, Hector de Marys rode up, and\nsaluted the king, who on his part introduced him to Tristram as\none of the bravest of his knights. Tristram took leave of the king\nand his faithful follower, and continued his quest.\n\nWe cannot follow Tristram through all the adventures which filled\nthis epoch of his history. Suffice it to say, he fulfilled on all\noccasions the duty of a true knight, rescuing the oppressed,\nredressing wrongs, abolishing evil customs, and suppressing\ninjustice, thus by constant action endeavoring to lighten the\npains of absence from her he loved. In the meantime Isoude,\nseparated from her dear Tristram, passed her days in languor and\nregret. At length she could no longer resist the desire to hear\nsome news of her lover. She wrote a letter, and sent it by one of\nher damsels, niece of her faithful Brengwain. One day Tristram,\nweary with his exertions, had dismounted and laid himself down by\nthe side of a fountain and fallen asleep. The damsel of Queen\nIsoude arrived at the same fountain, and recognized Passebreul,\nthe horse of Tristram, and presently perceived his master asleep.\nHe was thin and pale, showing evident marks of the pain he\nsuffered in separation from his beloved. She awakened him, and\ngave him the letter which she bore, and Tristram enjoyed the\npleasure, so sweet to a lover, of hearing from and talking about\nthe object of his affections. He prayed the damsel to postpone her\nreturn till after the magnificent tournament which Arthur had\nproclaimed should have taken place, and conducted her to the\ncastle of Persides, a brave and loyal knight, who received her\nwith great consideration.\n\nTristram conducted the damsel of Queen Isoude to the tournament,\nand had her placed in the balcony among the ladies of the queen.\n\n    \"He glanced and saw the stately galleries,\n    Dame, damsel, each through worship of their Queen\n    White-robed in honor of the stainless child,\n    And some with scatter'd jewels, like a bank\n    Of maiden snow mingled with sparks of fire.\n    He looked but once, and veiled his eyes again.\"\n\n    --The Last Tournament.\n\nHe then joined the tourney. Nothing could exceed his strength and\nvalor. Launcelot admired him, and by a secret presentiment\ndeclined to dispute the honor of the day with a knight so gallant\nand so skilful. Arthur descended from the balcony to greet the\nconqueror; but the modest and devoted Tristram, content with\nhaving borne off the prize in the sight of the messenger of\nIsoude, made his escape with her, and disappeared.\n\nThe next day the tourney recommenced. Tristram assumed different\narmor, that he might not be known; but he was soon detected by the\nterrible blows that he gave, Arthur and Guenever had no doubt that\nit was the same knight who had borne off the prize of the day\nbefore. Arthur's gallant spirit was roused. After Launcelot of the\nLake and Sir Gawain he was accounted the best knight of the Round\nTable. He went privately and armed himself, and came into the\ntourney in undistinguished armor. He ran a just with Tristram,\nwhom he shook in his seat; but Tristram, who did not know him,\nthrew him out of the saddle. Arthur recovered himself, and content\nwith having made proof of the stranger knight bade Launcelot\nfinish the adventure, and vindicate the honor of the Round Table.\nSir Launcelot, at the bidding of the monarch, assailed Tristram,\nwhose lance was already broken in former encounters. But the law\nof this sort of combat was that the knight after having broken his\nlance must fight with his sword, and must not refuse to meet with\nhis shield the lance of his antagonist. Tristram met Launcelot's\ncharge upon his shield, which that terrible lance could not fail\nto pierce. It inflicted a wound upon Tristram's side, and,\nbreaking, left the iron in the wound. But Tristram also with his\nsword smote so vigorously on Launcelot's casque that he cleft it,\nand wounded his head. The wound was not deep, but the blood flowed\ninto his eyes, and blinded him for a moment, and Tristram, who\nthought himself mortally wounded, retired from the field.\nLauncelot declared to the king that he had never received such a\nblow in his life before.\n\nTristram hastened to Gouvernail, his squire, who drew forth the\niron, bound up the wound, and gave him immediate ease. Tristram\nafter the tournament kept retired in his tent, but Arthur, with\nthe consent of all the knights of the Round Table, decreed him the\nhonors of the second day. But it was no longer a secret that the\nvictor of the two days was the same individual, and Gouvernail,\nbeing questioned, confirmed the suspicions of Launcelot and Arthur\nthat it was no other than Sir Tristram of Leonais, the nephew of\nthe king of Cornwall.\n\nKing Arthur, who desired to reward his distinguished valor, and\nknew that his Uncle Mark had ungratefully banished him, would have\neagerly availed himself of the opportunity to attach Tristram to\nhis court,--all the knights of the Round Table declaring with\nacclamation that it would be impossible to find a more worthy\ncompanion. But Tristram had already departed in search of\nadventures, and the damsel of Queen Isoude returned to her\nmistress.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nSIR TRISTRAM'S BATTLE WITH SIR LAUNCELOT\n\n\nSir Tristram rode through a forest and saw ten men fighting, and\none man did battle against nine. So he rode to the knights and\ncried to them, bidding them cease their battle, for they did\nthemselves great shame, so many knights to fight against one. Then\nanswered the master of the knights (his name was Sir Breuse sans\nPitie, who was at that time the most villanous knight living):\n\"Sir knight, what have ye to do to meddle with us? If ye be wise\ndepart on your way as you came, for this knight shall not escape\nus.\" \"That were pity,\" said Sir Tristram, \"that so good a knight\nshould be slain so cowardly; therefore I warn you I will succor\nhim with all my puissance.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram alighted off his horse, because they were on\nfoot, that they should not slay his horse. And he smote on the\nright hand and on the left so vigorously that well-nigh at every\nstroke he struck down a knight. At last they fled, with Breuse\nsans Pitie, into the tower, and shut Sir Tristram without the\ngate. Then Sir Tristram returned back to the rescued knight, and\nfound him sitting under a tree, sore wounded. \"Fair knight,\" said\nhe, \"how is it with you?\" \"Sir knight,\" said Sir Palamedes, for he\nit was, \"I thank you of your great goodness, for ye have rescued\nme from death.\" \"What is your name?\" said Sir Tristram. He said,\n\"My name is Sir Palamedes.\" \"Say ye so?\" said Sir Tristram; \"now\nknow that thou art the man in the world that I most hate;\ntherefore make thee ready, for I will do battle with thee.\" \"What\nis your name?\" said Sir Palamedes. \"My name is Sir Tristram, your\nmortal enemy.\" \"It may be so,\" said Sir Palamedes; \"but you have\ndone overmuch for me this day, that I should fight with you.\nMoreover, it will be no honor for you to have to do with me, for\nyou are fresh and I am wounded. Therefore, if you will needs have\nto do with me, assign me a day, and I shall meet you without\nfail.\" \"You say well, \"said Sir Tristram; \"now I assign you to\nmeet me in the meadow by the river of Camelot, where Merlin set\nthe monument.\" So they were agreed. Then they departed and took\ntheir ways diverse. Sir Tristram passed through a great forest\ninto a plain, till he came to a priory, and there he reposed him\nwith a good man six days.\n\nThen departed Sir Tristram, and rode straight into Camelot to the\nmonument of Merlin, and there he looked about him for Sir\nPalamedes. And he perceived a seemly knight, who came riding\nagainst him all in white, with a covered shield. When he came nigh\nSir Tristram said aloud, \"Welcome, sir knight, and well and truly\nhave you kept your promise.\" Then they made ready their shields\nand spears, and came together with all the might of their horses,\nso fiercely, that both the horses and the knights fell to the\nearth. And as soon as they might they quitted their horses, and\nstruck together with bright swords as men of might, and each\nwounded the other wonderfully sore, so that the blood ran out upon\nthe grass. Thus they fought for the space of four hours and never\none would speak to the other one word. Then at last spake the\nwhite knight, and said, \"Sir, thou fightest wonderful well, as\never I saw knight; therefore, if it please you, tell me your\nname.\" \"Why dost thou ask my name?\" said Sir Tristram; \"art thou\nnot Sir Palamedes?\" \"No, fair knight,\" said he, \"I am Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake.\" \"Alas!\" said Sir Tristram, \"what have I\ndone? for you are the man of the world that I love best.\" \"Fair\nknight,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"tell me your name.\" \"Truly,\" said\nhe, \"my name is Sir Tristram de Lionesse.\" \"Alas! alas!\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"what adventure has befallen me!\" And therewith Sir\nLauncelot kneeled down and yielded him up his sword; and Sir\nTristram kneeled down and yielded him up his sword; and so either\ngave other the degree. And then they both went to the stone, and\nsat them down upon it and took off their helms and each kissed the\nother a hundred times. And then anon they rode toward Camelot, and\non the way they met with Sir Gawain and Sir Gaheris, that had made\npromise to Arthur never to come again to the court till they had\nbrought Sir Tristram with them.\n\n\"Return again,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for your quest is done; for I\nhave met with Sir Tristram. Lo, here he is in his own person.\"\nThen was Sir Gawain glad, and said to Sir Tristram, \"Ye are\nwelcome.\" With this came King Arthur, and when he wist there was\nSir Tristram, he ran unto him, and took him by the hand, and said,\n\"Sir Tristram, ye are as welcome as any knight that ever came to\nthis court.\" Then Sir Tristram told the king how he came thither\nfor to have had to do with Sir Palamedes, and how he had rescued\nhim from Sir Breuse sans Pitie and the nine knights. Then King\nArthur took Sir Tristram by the hand, and went to the Table Round,\nand Queen Guenever came, and many ladies with her, and all the\nladies said with one voice, \"Welcome, Sir Tristram.\" \"Welcome,\"\nsaid the knights. \"Welcome,\" said Arthur, \"for one of the best of\nknights, and the gentlest of the world, and the man of most\nworship; for of all manner of hunting thou bearest the prize, and\nof all measures of blowing thou art the beginning, and of all the\nterms of hunting and hawking ye are the inventor, and of all\ninstruments of music ye are the best skilled; therefore, gentle\nknight,\" said Arthur, \"ye are welcome to this court.\" And then\nKing Arthur made Sir Tristram knight of the Table Round with great\nnobley and feasting as can be thought.\n\nSIR TRISTRAM AS A SPORTSMAN\n\nTristram is often alluded to by the Romancers as the great\nauthority and model in all matters relating to the chase. In the\n\"Faery Queene,\" Tristram, in answer to the inquiries of Sir\nCalidore, informs him of his name and parentage, and concludes:\n\n    \"All which my days I have not lewdly spent,\n    Nor spilt the blossom of my tender years\n    In idlesse; but, as was convenient,\n    Have trained been with many noble feres\n    In gentle thewes, and such like seemly leers;\n    'Mongst which my most delight hath always been\n    To hunt the salvage chace, amongst my peers,\n    Of all that rangeth in the forest green,\n    Of which none is to me unknown that yet was seen.\n\n    \"Ne is there hawk which mantleth on her perch,\n    Whether high towering or accosting low,\n    But I the measure of her flight do search,\n    And all her prey, and all her diet know.\n    Such be our joys, which in these forests grow.\"\n\n[Footnote: Feres, companions; thewes, labors; leers, learning.]\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nTHE ROUND TABLE\n\n\nThe famous enchanter, Merlin, had exerted all his skill in\nfabricating the Round Table. Of the seats which surrounded it he\nhad constructed thirteen, in memory of the thirteen Apostles.\nTwelve of these seats only could be occupied, and they only by\nknights of the highest fame; the thirteenth represented the seat\nof the traitor Judas. It remained always empty. It was called the\nPERILOUS SEAT, ever since a rash and haughty Saracen knight had\ndared to place himself in it, when the earth opened and swallowed\nhim up.\n\n    \"In our great hall there stood a vacant chair,\n    Fashion'd by Merlin ere he past away,\n    And carven with strange figures; and in and out\n    The figures, like a serpent, ran a scroll\n    Of letters in a tongue no man could read\n    And Merlin call'd it 'The Siege perilous,'\n    Perilous for good and ill; 'for there,' he said,\n    'No man could sit but he should lose himself.'\"\n\n    --The Holy Grail.\n\nA magic power wrote upon each seat the name of the knight who was\nentitled to sit in it. No one could succeed to a vacant seat\nunless he surpassed in valor and glorious deeds the knight who had\noccupied it before him; without this qualification he would be\nviolently repelled by a hidden force. Thus proof was made of all\nthose who presented themselves to replace any companions of the\norder who had fallen.\n\nOne of the principal seats, that of Moraunt of Ireland, had been\nvacant ten years, and his name still remained over it ever since\nthe time when that distinguished champion fell beneath the sword\nof Sir Tristram. Arthur now took Tristram by the hand and led him\nto that seat. Immediately the most melodious sounds were heard,\nand exquisite perfumes filled the place; the name of Moraunt\ndisappeared, and that of Tristram blazed forth in light. The rare\nmodesty of Tristram had now to be subjected to a severe task; for\nthe clerks charged with the duty of preserving the annals of the\nRound Table attended, and he was required by the law of his order\nto declare what feats of arms he had accomplished to entitle him\nto take that seat. This ceremony being ended, Tristram received\nthe congratulations of all his companions. Sir Launcelot and\nGuenever took the occasion to speak to him of the fair Isoude, and\nto express their wish that some happy chance might bring her to\nthe kingdom of Loegria.\n\nWhile Tristram was thus honored and caressed at the court of King\nArthur, the most gloomy and malignant jealousy harassed the soul\nof Mark. He could not look upon Isoude without remembering that\nshe loved Tristram, and the good fortune of his nephew goaded him\nto thoughts of vengeance. He at last resolved to go disguised into\nthe kingdom of Loegria, attack Tristram by stealth, and put him to\ndeath. He took with him two knights, brought up in his court, who\nhe thought were devoted to him; and, not willing to leave Isoude\nbehind, named two of her maidens to attend her, together with her\nfaithful Brengwain, and made them accompany him.\n\nHaving arrived in the neighborhood of Camelot, Mark imparted his\nplan to his two knights, but they rejected it with horror; nay,\nmore, they declared that they would no longer remain in his\nservice; and left him, giving him reason to suppose that they\nshould repair to the court to accuse him before Arthur. It was\nnecessary for Mark to meet and rebut their accusation; so, leaving\nIsoude in an abbey, he pursued his way alone to Camelot.\n\nMark had not ridden far when he encountered a party of knights of\nArthur's court, and would have avoided them, for he knew their\nhabit of challenging to a just every stranger knight whom they\nmet. But it was too late. They had seen his armor, and recognized\nhim as a Cornish knight, and at once resolved to have some sport\nwith him. It happened they had with them Daguenet, King Arthur's\nfool, who, though deformed and weak of body, was not wanting in\ncourage. The knights as Mark approached laid their plan that\nDaguenet should personate Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and challenge\nthe Cornish knight. They equipped him in armor belonging to one of\ntheir number who was ill, and sent him forward to the cross-road\nto defy the strange knight. Mark, who saw that his antagonist was\nby no means formidable in appearance, was not disinclined to the\ncombat; but when the dwarf rode towards him, calling out that he\nwas Sir Launcelot of the Lake, his fears prevailed, he put spurs\nto his horse, and rode away at full speed, pursued by the shouts\nand laughter of the party.\n\nMeanwhile Isoude, remaining at the abbey with her faithful\nBrengwain, found her only amusement in walking occasionally in a\nforest adjoining the abbey. There, on the brink of a fountain\ngirdled with trees, she thought of her love, and sometimes joined\nher voice and her harp in lays reviving the memory of its pains or\npleasures. One day the caitiff knight, Breuse the Pitiless, heard\nher voice, concealed himself, and drew near. She sang:\n\n    \"Sweet silence, shadowy bower, and verdant lair,\n       Ye court my troubled spirit to repose,\n     Whilst I, such dear remembrance rises there,\n       Awaken every echo with my woes\n\n    \"Within these woods, by nature's hand arrayed,\n       A fountain springs, and feeds a thousand flowers;\n    Ah! how my groans do all its murmurs aid!\n       How my sad eyes do swell it with their showers!\n\n    \"What doth my knight the while? to him is given\n       A double meed; in love and arms' emprise,\n    Him the Round Table elevates to heaven!\n       Tristram! ah me! he hears not Isoude's cries.\"\n\nBreuse the Pitiless, who like most other caitiffs had felt the\nweight of Tristram's arm, and hated him accordingly, at hearing\nhis name breathed forth by the beautiful songstress, impelled by a\ndouble impulse, rushed forth from his concealment and laid hands\non his victim. Isoude fainted, and Brengwain filled the air with\nher shrieks. Breuse carried Isoude to the place where he had left\nhis horse; but the animal had got away from his bridle, and was at\nsome distance. He was obliged to lay down his fair burden, and go\nin pursuit of his horse. Just then a knight came up, drawn by the\ncries of Brengwain, and demanded the cause of her distress. She\ncould not speak, but pointed to her mistress lying insensible on\nthe ground.\n\nBreuse had by this time returned, and the cries of Brengwain,\nrenewed at seeing him, sufficiently showed the stranger the cause\nof the distress. Tristram spurred his horse towards Breuse, who,\nnot unprepared, ran to the encounter. Breuse was unhorsed, and lay\nmotionless, pretending to be dead; but when the stranger knight\nleft him to attend to the distressed damsels, he mounted his\nhorse, and made his escape.\n\nThe knight now approached Isoude, gently raised her head, drew\naside the golden hair which covered her countenance, gazed thereon\nfor an instant, uttered a cry, and fell back insensible. Brengwain\ncame; her cares soon restored her mistress to life, and they then\nturned their attention to the fallen warrior. They raised his\nvisor, and discovered the countenance of Sir Tristram. Isoude\nthrew herself on the body of her lover, and bedewed his face with\nher tears. Their warmth revived the knight, and Tristram on\nawaking found himself in the arms of his dear Isoude.\n\nIt was the law of the Round Table that each knight after his\nadmission should pass the next ten days in quest of adventures,\nduring which time his companions might meet him in disguised armor\nand try their strength with him. Tristram had now been out seven\ndays, and in that time had encountered many of the best knights of\nthe Round Table, and acquitted himself with honor. During the\nremaining three days, Isoude remained at the abbey, under his\nprotection, and then set out with her maidens, escorted by Sir\nTristram, to rejoin King Mark at the court of Camelot.\n\nThis happy journey was one of the brightest epochs in the lives of\nTristram and Isoude. He celebrated it by a lay upon the harp in a\npeculiar measure, to which the French give the name of Triolet.\n\n    \"With fair Isoude, and with love,\n     Ah! how sweet the life I lead!\n     How blest for ever thus to rove,\n     With fair Isoude, and with love!\n     As she wills, I live and move,\n     And cloudless days to days succeed:\n     With fair Isoude, and with love,\n     Ah! how sweet the life I lead!\n\n    \"Journeying on from break of day,\n     Feel you not fatigued, my fair?\n     Yon green turf invites to play;\n     Journeying on from day to day,\n     Ah! let us to that shade away,\n     Were it but to slumber there!\n     Journeying on from break of day,\n     Feel you not fatigued, my fair?\"\n\nThey arrived at Camelot, where Sir Launcelot received them most\ncordially. Isoude was introduced to King Arthur and Queen\nGuenever, who welcomed her as a sister. As King Mark was held in\narrest under the accusation of the two Cornish knights, Queen\nIsoude could not rejoin her husband, and Sir Launcelot placed his\ncastle of La Joyeuse Garde at the disposal of his friends, who\nthere took up their abode.\n\nKing Mark, who found himself obliged to confess the truth of the\ncharge against him, or to clear himself by combat with his\naccusers, preferred the former, and King Arthur, as his crime had\nnot been perpetrated, remitted the penalty, only enjoining upon\nhim, under pain of his signal displeasure, to lay aside all\nthoughts of vengeance against his nephew. In the presence of the\nking and his court all parties were formally reconciled; Mark and\nhis queen departed for their home, and Tristram remained at\nArthur's court.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nSIR PALAMEDES\n\n\nWhile Sir Tristram and the fair Isoude abode yet at La Joyeuse\nGarde, Sir Tristram rode forth one day, without armor, having no\nweapon but his spear and his sword. And as he rode he came to a\nplace where he saw two knights in battle, and one of them had\ngotten the better and the other lay overthrown. The knight who had\nthe better was Sir Palamedes. When Sir Palamedes knew Sir\nTristram, he cried out, \"Sir Tristram, now we be met, and ere we\ndepart we will redress our old wrongs.\" \"As for that,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"there never yet was Christian man that might make his\nboast that I ever fled from him, and thou that art a Saracen shalt\nnever say that of me.\" And therewith Sir Tristram made his horse\nto run, and with all his might came straight upon Sir Palamedes,\nand broke his spear upon him. Then he drew his sword and struck at\nSir Palamedes six great strokes, upon his helm. Sir Palamedes saw\nthat Sir Tristram had not his armor on, and he marvelled at his\nrashness and his great folly; and said to himself, \"If I meet and\nslay him, I am shamed wheresoever I go.\" Then Sir Tristram cried\nout and said, \"Thou coward knight, why wilt thou not do battle\nwith me? for have thou no doubt I shall endure all thy malice.\"\n\"Ah, Sir Tristram!\" said Sir Palamedes, \"thou knowest I may not\nfight with thee for shame; for thou art here naked, and I am\narmed; now I require that thou answer me a question that I shall\nask you.\" \"Tell me what it is,\" said Sir Tristram. \"I put the\ncase,\" said Palamedes, \"that you were well armed, and I naked as\nye be; what would you do to me now, by your true knighthood?\"\n\"Ah!\" said Sir Tristram, \"now I understand thee well, Sir\nPalamedes; and, as God bless me, what I shall say shall not be\nsaid for fear that I have of thee. But if it were so, thou\nshouldest depart from me, for I would not have to do with thee.\"\n\"No more will I with thee,\" said Sir Palamedes, \"and therefore\nride forth on thy way.\" \"As for that, I may choose,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"either to ride or to abide. But, Sir Palamedes, I\nmarvel at one thing,--that thou art so good a knight, yet that\nthou wilt not be christened.\" \"As for that,\" said Sir Palamedes,\n\"I may not yet be christened, for a vow which I made many years\nago; yet in my heart I believe in our Saviour and his mild mother,\nMary; but I have yet one battle to do, and when that is done I\nwill be christened, with a good will.\" \"By my head,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"as for that one battle, thou shalt seek it no longer;\nfor yonder is a knight, whom you have smitten down. Now help me to\nbe clothed in his armor, and I will soon fulfil thy vow.\" \"As ye\nwill,\" said Sir Palamedes, \"so shall it be.\" So they rode both\nunto that knight that sat on a bank; and Sir Tristram saluted him,\nand he full weary saluted him again. \"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I\npray you to lend me your whole armor; for I am unarmed, and I must\ndo battle with this knight.\" \"Sir,\" said the hurt knight, \"you\nshall have it, with a right good will,\" Then Sir Tristram unarmed\nSir Galleron, for that was the name of the hurt knight, and he as\nwell as he could helped to arm Sir Tristram. Then Sir Tristram\nmounted upon his own horse, and in his hand he took Sir Galleron's\nspear. Thereupon Sir Palamedes was ready, and so they came hurling\ntogether, and each smote the other in the midst of their shields.\nSir Palamedes' spear broke, and Sir Tristram smote down the horse.\nThen Sir Palamedes leapt from his horse, and drew out his sword.\nThat saw Sir Tristram, and therewith he alighted and tied his\nhorse to a tree. Then they came together as two wild beasts,\nlashing the one on the other, and so fought more than two hours;\nand often Sir Tristram smote such strokes at Sir Palamedes that he\nmade him to kneel, and Sir Palamedes broke away Sir Tristram's\nshield, and wounded him. Then Sir Tristram was wroth out of\nmeasure, and he rushed to Sir Palamedes and wounded him passing\nsore through the shoulder, and by fortune smote Sir Palamedes'\nsword out of his hand And if Sir Palamedes had stooped for his\nsword Sir Tristram had slain him. Then Sir Palamedes stood and\nbeheld his sword with a full sorrowful heart. \"Now,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"I have thee at a vantage, as thou hadst me to-day; but\nit shall never be said, in court, or among good knights, that Sir\nTristram did slay any knight that was weaponless; therefore take\nthou thy sword, and let us fight this battle to the end.\" Then\nspoke Sir Palamedes to Sir Tristram: \"I have no wish to fight this\nbattle any more. The offence that I have done unto you is not so\ngreat but that, if it please you, we may be friends. All that I\nhave offended is for the love of the queen, La Belle Isoude, and I\ndare maintain that she is peerless among ladies; and for that\noffence ye have given me many grievous and sad strokes, and some I\nhave given you again. Wherefore I require you, my lord Sir\nTristram, forgive me all that I have offended you, and this day\nhave me unto the next church; and first I will be clean confessed,\nand after that see you that I be truly baptized, and then we will\nride together unto the court of my lord, King Arthur, so that we\nmay be there at the feast of Pentecost.\" \"Now take your horse,\"\nsaid Sir Tristram, \"and as you have said, so shall it be done.\" So\nthey took their horses, and Sir Galleron rode with them. When they\ncame to the church of Carlisle, the bishop commanded to fill a\ngreat vessel with water; and when he had hallowed it, he then\nconfessed Sir Palamedes clean, and christened him, and Sir\nTristram and Sir Galleron were his godfathers. Then soon after\nthey departed, and rode towards Camelot, where the noble King\nArthur and Queen Guenever were keeping a court royal. And the king\nand all the court were glad that Sir Palamedes was christened.\nThen Sir Tristram returned again to La Joyeuse Garde, and Sir\nPalamedes went his way.\n\nNot long after these events Sir Gawain returned from Brittany, and\nrelated to King Arthur the adventure which befell him in the\nforest of Breciliande, how Merlin had there spoken to him, and\nenjoined him to charge the king to go without delay upon the quest\nof the Holy Greal. While King Arthur deliberated Tristram\ndetermined to enter upon the quest, and the more readily, as it\nwas well known to him that this holy adventure would, if achieved,\nprocure him the pardon of all his sins. He immediately departed\nfor the kingdom of Brittany, hoping there to obtain from Merlin\ncounsel as to the proper course to pursue to insure success.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nSIR TRISTRAM\n\n\nOn arriving in Brittany Tristram found King Hoel engaged in a war\nwith a rebellious vassal, and hard pressed by his enemy. His best\nknights had fallen in a late battle, and he knew not where to turn\nfor assistance. Tristram volunteered his aid. It was accepted; and\nthe army of Hoel, led by Tristram, and inspired by his example,\ngained a complete victory. The king, penetrated by the most lively\nsentiments of gratitude, and having informed himself of Tristram's\nbirth, offered him his daughter in marriage. The princess was\nbeautiful and accomplished, and bore the same name with the Queen\nof Cornwall; but this one is designated by the Romancers as Isoude\nof the White Hands, to distinguish her from Isoude the Fair.\n\nHow can we describe the conflict that agitated the heart of\nTristram? He adored the first Isoude, but his love for her was\nhopeless, and not unaccompanied by remorse. Moreover, the sacred\nquest on which he had now entered demanded of him perfect purity\nof life. It seemed as if a happy destiny had provided for him in\nthe charming princess Isoude of the White Hands the best security\nfor all his good resolutions. This last reflection determined him.\nThey were married, and passed some months in tranquil happiness at\nthe court of King Hoel. The pleasure which Tristram felt in his\nwife's society increased day by day. An inward grace seemed to\nstir within him from the moment when he took the oath to go on the\nquest of the Holy Greal; it seemed even to triumph over the power\nof the magic love-potion.\n\nThe war, which had been quelled for a time, now burst out anew.\nTristram as usual was foremost in every danger. The enemy was\nworsted in successive conflicts, and at last shut himself up in\nhis principal city. Tristram led on the attack of the city. As he\nmounted a ladder to scale the walls he was struck on the head by a\nfragment of rock, which the besieged threw down upon him. It bore\nhim to the ground, where he lay insensible.\n\nAs soon as he recovered consciousness he demanded to be carried to\nhis wife. The princess, skilled in the art of surgery, would not\nsuffer any one but herself to touch her beloved husband. Her fair\nhands bound up his wounds; Tristram kissed them with gratitude,\nwhich began to grow into love. At first the devoted cares of\nIsoude seemed to meet with great success; but after a while these\nflattering appearances vanished, and, in spite of all her care,\nthe malady grew more serious day by day.\n\nIn this perplexity, an old squire of Tristram's reminded his\nmaster that the princess of Ireland, afterwards queen of Cornwall,\nhad once cured him under circumstances quite as discouraging. He\ncalled Isoude of the White Hands to him, told her of his former\ncure, added that he believed that the Queen Isoude could heal him,\nand that he felt sure that she would come to his relief, if sent\nfor.\n\nIsoude of the White Hands consented that Gesnes, a trusty man and\nskilful navigator, should be sent to Cornwall. Tristram called\nhim, and, giving him a ring, \"Take this,\" he said, \"to the Queen\nof Cornwall. Tell her that Tristram, near to death, demands her\naid. If you succeed in bringing her with you, place white sails to\nyour vessel on your return, that we may know of your success when\nthe vessel first heaves in sight. But if Queen Isoude refuses, put\non black sails; they will be the presage of my impending death.\"\n\nGesnes performed his mission successfully. King Mark happened to\nbe absent from his capital, and the queen readily consented to\nreturn with the bark to Brittany. Gesnes clothed his vessel in the\nwhitest of sails, and sped his way back to Brittany.\n\nMeantime the wound of Tristram grew more desperate day by day. His\nstrength, quite prostrated, no longer permitted him to be carried\nto the seaside daily, as had been his custom from the first moment\nwhen it was possible for the bark to be on the way homeward. He\ncalled a young damsel, and gave her in charge to keep watch in the\ndirection of Cornwall, and to come and tell him the color of the\nsails of the first vessel she should see approaching.\n\nWhen Isoude of the White Hands consented that the queen of\nCornwall should be sent for, she had not known all the reasons\nwhich she had for fearing the influence which renewed intercourse\nwith that princess might have on her own happiness. She had now\nlearned more, and felt the danger more keenly. She thought, if she\ncould only keep the knowledge of the queen's arrival from her\nhusband, she might employ in his service any resources which her\nskill could supply, and still avert the dangers which she\napprehended. When the vessel was seen approaching, with its white\nsails sparkling in the sun, the damsel, by command of her\nmistress, carried word to Tristram that the sails were black.\n\nTristram, penetrated with inexpressible grief, breathed a profound\nsigh, turned away his face, and said, \"Alas, my beloved! we shall\nnever see one another again!\" Then he commended himself to God,\nand breathed his last.\n\nThe death of Tristram was the first intelligence which the queen\nof Cornwall heard on landing. She was conducted almost senseless\ninto the chamber of Tristram, and expired holding him in her arms.\n\nTristram, before his death, had requested that his body should be\nsent to Cornwall, and that his sword, with a letter he had\nwritten, should be delivered to King Mark. The remains of Tristram\nand Isoude were embarked in a vessel, along with the sword, which\nwas presented to the king of Cornwall. He was melted with\ntenderness when he saw the weapon which slew Moraunt of Ireland,--\nwhich had so often saved his life, and redeemed the honor of his\nkingdom. In the letter Tristram begged pardon of his uncle, and\nrelated the story of the amorous draught.\n\nMark ordered the lovers to be buried in his own chapel. From the\ntomb of Tristram there sprung a vine, which went along the walls,\nand descended into the grave of the queen. It was cut down three\ntimes, but each time sprung up again more vigorous than before,\nand this wonderful plant has ever since shaded the tombs of\nTristram and Isoude.\n\nSpenser introduces Sir Tristram in his \"Faery Queene.\" In Book\nVI., Canto ii., Sir Calidore encounters in the forest a young\nhunter, whom he thus describes:\n\n    \"Him steadfastly he marked, and saw to be\n    A goodly youth of amiable grace,\n    Yet but a slender slip, that scarce did see\n    Yet seventeen yeares; but tall and faire of face,\n    That sure he deemed him borne of noble race.\n    All in a woodman's jacket he was clad\n    Of Lincoln greene, belayed with silver lace;\n    And on his head an hood with aglets sprad,\n    And by his side his hunter's horne he hanging had.\n\n[Footnote: Aglets, points or tags]\n\n    \"Buskins he wore of costliest cordawayne,\n    Pinckt upon gold, and paled part per part,\n    As then the guize was for each gentle swayne.\n    In his right hand he held a trembling dart,\n    Whose fellow he before had sent apart;\n    And in his left he held a sharp bore-speare,\n    With which he wont to launch the salvage heart\n    Of many a lyon, and of many a beare,\n  That first unto his hand in chase did happen neare.\"\n\n[Footnote: PINCKT UPON GOLD, ETC., adorned with golden points, or\neyelets, and regularly intersected with stripes. PALED (in\nheraldry), striped]\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nPERCEVAL\n\n\nThe father and two elder brothers of Perceval had fallen in battle\nor tournaments, and hence, as the last hope of his family, his\nmother retired with him into a solitary region, where he was\nbrought up in total ignorance of arms and chivalry. He was allowed\nno weapon but \"a lyttel Scots spere,\" which was the only thing of\nall \"her lordes faire gere\" that his mother carried to the wood\nwith her. In the use of this he became so skilful, that he could\nkill with it not only the animals of the chase for the table, but\neven birds on the wing. At length, however, Perceval was roused to\na desire of military renown by seeing in the forest five knights\nwho were in complete armor. He said to his mother, \"Mother, what\nare those yonder?\" \"They are angels, my son,\" said she. \"By my\nfaith, I will go and become an angel with them.\" And Perceval went\nto the road and met them. \"Tell me, good lad,\" said one of them,\n\"sawest thou a knight pass this way either today or yesterday?\" \"I\nknow not,\" said he, \"what a knight is.\" \"Such an one as I am,\"\nsaid the knight. \"If thou wilt tell me what I ask thee, I will\ntell thee what thou askest me.\" \"Gladly will I do so,\" said Sir\nOwain, for that was the knight's name. \"What is this?\" demanded\nPerceval, touching the saddle. \"It is a saddle,\" said Owain. Then\nhe asked about all the accoutrements which he saw upon the men and\nthe horses, and about the arms, and what they were for, and how\nthey were used. And Sir Owain showed him all those things fully.\nAnd Perceval in return gave him such information as he had\n\nThen Perceval returned to his mother, and said to her, \"Mother,\nthose were not angels, but honorable knights.\" Then his mother\nswooned away. And Perceval went to the place where they kept the\nhorses that carried firewood and provisions for the castle, and he\ntook a bony, piebald horse, which seemed to him the strongest of\nthem. And he pressed a pack into the form of a saddle, and with\ntwisted twigs he imitated the trappings which he had seen upon the\nhorses. When he came again to his mother, the countess had\nrecovered from her swoon. \"My son,\" said she, \"desirest thou to\nride forth?\" \"Yes, with thy leave,\" said he. \"Go forward, then,\"\nshe said, \"to the court of Arthur, where there are the best and\nthe noblest and the most bountiful of men, and tell him thou art\nPerceval, the son of Pelenore, and ask of him to bestow knighthood\non thee. And whenever thou seest a church, repeat there thy pater-\nnoster; and if thou see meat and drink, and hast need of them,\nthou mayest take them. If thou hear an outcry of one in distress,\nproceed toward it, especially if it be the cry of a woman, and\nrender her what service thou canst. If thou see a fair jewel, win\nit, for thus shalt thou acquire fame; yet freely give it to\nanother, for thus thou shalt obtain praise. If thou see a fair\nwoman, pay court to her, for thus thou wilt obtain love.\"\n\nAfter this discourse Perceval mounted the horse and taking a\nnumber of sharp-pointed sticks in his hand he rode forth. And he\nrode far in the woody wilderness without food or drink. At last he\ncame to an opening in the wood where he saw a tent, and as he\nthought it might be a church he said his pater-noster to it. And\nhe went towards it; and the door of the tent was open. And\nPerceval dismounted and entered the tent. In the tent he found a\nmaiden sitting, with a golden frontlet on her forehead and a gold\nring on her hand. And Perceval said, \"Maiden, I salute you, for my\nmother told me whenever I met a lady I must respectfully salute\nher.\" Perceiving in one corner of the tent some food, two flasks\nfull of wine, and some boar's flesh roasted, he said, \"My mother\ntold me, whenever I saw meat and drink to take it.\" And he ate\ngreedily, for he was very hungry. The maiden said, \"Sir, thou\nhadst best go quickly from here, for fear that my friends should\ncome, and evil should befall you.\" But Perceval said, \"My mother\ntold me wheresoever I saw a fair jewel to take it,\" and he took\nthe gold ring from her finger, and put it on his own; and he gave\nthe maiden his own ring in exchange for hers; then he mounted his\nhorse and rode away.\n\nPerceval journeyed on till he arrived at Arthur's court. And it so\nhappened that just at that time an uncourteous knight had offered\nQueen Guenever a gross insult. For when her page was serving the\nqueen with a golden goblet, this knight struck the arm of the page\nand dashed the wine in the queen's face and over her stomacher.\nThen he said, \"If any have boldness to avenge this insult to\nGuenever, let him follow me to the meadow.\" So the knight took his\nhorse and rode to the meadow, carrying away the golden goblet. And\nall the household hung down their heads and no one offered to\nfollow the knight to take vengeance upon him. For it seemed to\nthem that no one would have ventured on so daring an outrage\nunless he possessed such powers, through magic or charms, that\nnone could be able to punish him. Just then, behold, Perceval\nentered the hall upon the bony, piebald horse, with his uncouth\ntrappings. In the centre of the hall stood Kay the Seneschal.\n\"Tell me, tall man,\" said Perceval, \"is that Arthur yonder?\" \"What\nwouldst thou with Arthur?\" asked Kay. \"My mother told me to go to\nArthur and receive knighthood from him.\" \"By my faith,\" said he,\n\"thou art all too meanly equipped with horse and with arms.\" Then\nall the household began to jeer and laugh at him. But there was a\ncertain damsel who had been a whole year at Arthur's court, and\nhad never been known to smile. And the king's fool [Footnote: A\nfool was a common appendage of the courts of those days when this\nromance was written. A fool was the ornament held in next\nestimation to a dwarf. He wore a white dress with a yellow bonnet,\nand carried a bell or bawble in his hand. Though called a fool,\nhis words were often weighed and remembered as if there were a\nsort of oracular meaning in them.] had said that this damsel would\nnot smile till she had seen him who would be the flower of\nchivalry. Now this damsel came up to Perceval and told him,\nsmiling, that if he lived he would be one of the bravest and best\nof knights. \"Truly,\" said Kay, \"thou art ill taught to remain a\nyear at Arthur's court, with choice of society, and smile on no\none, and now before the face of Arthur and all his knights to call\nsuch a man as this the flower of knighthood;\" and he gave her a\nbox on the ear, that she fell senseless to the ground. Then said\nKay to Perceval, \"Go after the knight who went hence to the\nmeadow, overthrow him and recover the golden goblet, and possess\nthyself of his horse and arms, and thou shalt have knighthood.\" \"I\nwill do so, tall man,\" said Perceval. So he turned his horse's\nhead toward the meadow. And when he came there, the knight was\nriding up and down, proud of his strength and valor and noble\nmien. \"Tell me,\" said the knight, \"didst thou see any one coming\nafter me from the court?\" \"The tall man that was there,\" said\nPerceval, \"told me to come and overthrow thee, and to take from\nthee the goblet and thy horse and armor for myself.\" \"Silence!\"\nsaid the knight; \"go back to the court, and tell Arthur either to\ncome himself, or to send some other to fight with me; and unless\nhe do so quickly, I will not wait for him.\" \"By my faith,\" said\nPerceval, \"choose thou whether it shall be willingly or\nunwillingly, for I will have the horse and the arms and the\ngoblet.\" Upon this the knight ran at him furiously, and struck him\na violent blow with the shaft of his spear, between the neck and\nthe shoulder. \"Ha, ha, lad!\" said Perceval, \"my mother's servants\nwere not used to play with me in this wise; so thus will I play\nwith thee.\" And he threw at him one of his sharp-pointed sticks,\nand it struck him in the eye, and came out at the back of his\nhead, so that he fell down lifeless.\n\n\"Verily,\" said Sir Owain, the son of Urien, to Kay the Seneschal,\n\"thou wast ill-advised to send that madman after the knight, for\nhe must either be overthrown or flee, and either way it will be a\ndisgrace to Arthur and his warriors; therefore will I go to see\nwhat has befallen him.\" So Sir Owain went to the meadow, and he\nfound Perceval trying in vain to get the dead knight's armor off,\nin order to clothe himself with it. Sir Owain unfastened the\narmor, and helped Perceval to put it on, and taught him how to put\nhis foot in the stirrup, and use the spur; for Perceval had never\nused stirrup nor spur, but rode without saddle, and urged on his\nhorse with a stick. Then Owain would have had him return to the\ncourt to receive the praise that was his due; but Perceval said,\n\"I will not come to the court till I have encountered the tall man\nthat is there, to revenge the injury he did to the maiden. But\ntake thou the goblet to Queen Guenever, and tell King Arthur that,\nwherever I am, I will be his vassal, and will do him what profit\nand service I can.\" And Sir Owain went back to the court, and\nrelated all these things to Arthur and Guenever, and to all the\nhousehold.\n\nAnd Perceval rode forward. And he came to a lake on the side of\nwhich was a fair castle, and on the border of the lake he saw a\nhoary-headed man sitting upon a velvet cushion, and his attendants\nwere fishing in the lake. When the hoary-headed man beheld\nPerceval approaching, he arose and went into the castle. Perceval\nrode to the castle, and the door was open, and he entered the\nhall. And the hoary-headed man received Perceval courteously, and\nasked him to sit by him on the cushion. When it was time the\ntables were set, and they went to meat. And when they had finished\ntheir meat the hoary-headed man asked Perceval if he knew how to\nfight with the sword \"I know not,\" said Perceval, \"but were I to\nbe taught, doubtless I should.\" And the hoary-headed man said to\nhim, \"I am thy uncle, thy mother's brother; I am called King\nPecheur.[Footnote: The word means both FISHER and SINNER.] Thou\nshalt remain with me a space, in order to learn the manners and\ncustoms of different countries, and courtesy and noble bearing.\nAnd this do thou remember, if thou seest aught to cause thy\nwonder, ask not the meaning of it; if no one has the courtesy to\ninform thee, the reproach will not fall upon thee, but upon me\nthat am thy teacher.\" While Perceval and his uncle discoursed\ntogether, Perceval beheld two youths enter the hall bearing a\ngolden cup and a spear of mighty size, with blood dropping from\nits point to the ground. And when all the company saw this they\nbegan to weep and lament. But for all that, the man did not break\noff his discourse with Perceval. And as he did not tell him the\nmeaning of what he saw, he forebore to ask him concerning it. Now\nthe cup that Perceval saw was the Sangreal, and the spear the\nsacred spear; and afterwards King Pecheur removed with those\nsacred relics into a far country.\n\nOne evening Perceval entered a valley, and came to a hermit's\ncell; and the hermit welcomed him gladly, and there he spent the\nnight. And in the morning he arose, and when he went forth,\nbehold! a shower of snow had fallen in the night, and a hawk had\nkilled a wild-fowl in front of the cell. And the noise of the\nhorse had scared the hawk away, and a raven alighted on the bird.\nAnd Perceval stood and compared the blackness of the raven and the\nwhiteness of the snow and the redness of the blood to the hair of\nthe lady that best he loved, which was blacker than jet, and to\nher skin, which was whiter than the snow, and to the two red spots\nupon her cheeks, which were redder than the blood upon the snow.\n\nNow Arthur and his household were in search of Perceval, and by\nchance they came that way. \"Know ye,\" said Arthur, \"who is the\nknight with the long spear that stands by the brook up yonder?\"\n\"Lord,\" said one of them, \"I will go and learn who he is.\" So the\nyouth came to the place where Perceval was, and asked him what he\ndid thus, and who he was. But Perceval was so intent upon his\nthought that he gave him no answer. Then the youth thrust at\nPerceval with his lance; and Perceval turned upon him, and struck\nhim to the ground. And when the youth returned to the king, and\ntold how rudely he had been treated, Sir Kay said, \"I will go\nmyself.\" And when he greeted Perceval, and got no answer, he spoke\nto him rudely and angrily. And Perceval thrust at him with his\nlance, and cast him down so that he broke his arm and his\nshoulder-blade. And while he lay thus stunned his horse returned\nback at a wild and prancing pace.\n\nThen said Sir Gawain, surnamed the Golden-Tongued, because he was\nthe most courteous knight in Arthur's court: \"It is not fitting\nthat any should disturb an honorable knight from his thought\nunadvisedly; for either he is pondering some damage that he has\nsustained, or he is thinking of the lady whom best he loves. If it\nseem well to thee, lord, I will go and see if this knight has\nchanged from his thought, and if he has, I will ask him\ncourteously to come and visit thee.\"\n\nAnd Perceval was resting on the shaft of his spear, pondering the\nsame thought, and Sir Gawain came to him, and said: \"If I thought\nit would be as agreeable to thee as it would be to me, I would\nconverse with thee. I have also a message from Arthur unto thee,\nto pray thee to come and visit him. And two men have been before\non this errand.\" \"That is true,\" said Perceval; \"and uncourteously\nthey came. They attacked me, and I was annoyed thereat\" Then he\ntold him the thought that occupied his mind, and Gawain said,\n\"This was not an ungentle thought, and I should marvel if it were\npleasant for thee to be drawn from it.\" Then said Perceval, \"Tell\nme, is Sir Kay in Arthur's court?\" \"He is,\" said Gawain; \"and\ntruly he is the knight who fought with thee last.\" \"Verily,\" said\nPerceval, \"I am not sorry to have thus avenged the insult to the\nsmiling maiden. \"Then Perceval told him his name, and said, \"Who\nart thou?\" And he replied, \"I am Gawain.\" \"I am right glad to meet\nthee,\" said Perceval, \"for I have everywhere heard of thy prowess\nand uprightness; and I solicit thy fellowship.\" \"Thou shalt have\nit, by my faith; and grant me thine,\" said he. \"Gladly will I do\nso,\" answered Perceval.\n\nSo they went together to Arthur, and saluted him.\n\n\"Behold, lord,\" said Gawain, \"him whom thou hast sought so long.\"\n\"Welcome unto thee, chieftain,\" said Arthur. And hereupon there\ncame the queen and her handmaidens, and Perceval saluted them. And\nthey were rejoiced to see him, and bade him welcome. And Arthur\ndid him great honor and respect and they returned towards\nCaerleon.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nTHE SANGREAL, OR HOLY GRAAL\n\n\nThe Sangreal was the cup from which our Saviour drank at his last\nsupper. He was supposed to have given it to Joseph of Arimathea,\nwho carried it to Europe, together with the spear with which the\nsoldier pierced the Saviour's side. From generation to generation,\none of the descendants of Joseph of Arimathea had been devoted to\nthe guardianship of these precious relics; but on the sole\ncondition of leading a life of purity in thought, word, and deed.\nFor a long time the Sangreal was visible to all pilgrims, and its\npresence conferred blessings upon the land in which it was\npreserved. But at length one of those holy men to whom its\nguardianship had descended so far forgot the obligation of his\nsacred office as to look with unhallowed eye upon a young female\npilgrim whose robe was accidentally loosened as she knelt before\nhim. The sacred lance instantly punished his frailty,\nspontaneously falling upon him, and inflicting a deep wound. The\nmarvellous wound could by no means be healed, and the guardian of\nthe Sangreal was ever after called \"Le Roi Pescheur,\"--The Sinner\nKing. The Sangreal withdrew its visible presence from the crowds\nwho came to worship, and an iron age succeeded to the happiness\nwhich its presence had diffused among the tribes of Britain.\n\n       \"But then the times\n    Grew to such evil that the Holy cup\n    Was caught away to heaven and disappear'd.\"\n                             --The Holy Grail.\n\nWe have told in the history of Merlin how that great prophet and\nenchanter sent a message to King Arthur by Sir Gawain, directing\nhim to undertake the recovery of the Sangreal, informing him at\nthe same time that the knight who should accomplish that sacred\nquest was already born, and of a suitable age to enter upon it.\nSir Gawain delivered his message, and the king was anxiously\nrevolving in his mind how best to achieve the enterprise, when, at\nthe vigil of Pentecost, all the fellowship of the Round Table\nbeing met together at Camelot, as they sat at meat, suddenly there\nwas heard a clap of thunder, and then a bright light burst forth,\nand every knight, as he looked on his fellow, saw him, in seeming,\nfairer than ever before. All the hall was filled with sweet odors,\nand every knight had such meat and drink as he best loved. Then\nthere entered into the hall the Holy Graal, covered with white\nsamite, so that none could see it, and it passed through the hall\nsuddenly, and disappeared. During this time no one spoke a word,\nbut when they had recovered breath to speak King Arthur said,\n\"Certainly we ought greatly to thank the Lord for what he hath\nshowed us this day.\" Then Sir Gawain rose up, and made a vow that\nfor twelve months and a day he would seek the Sangreal, and not\nreturn till he had seen it, if so he might speed. When they of the\nRound Table heard Sir Gawain say so, they arose, the most part of\nthem, and vowed the same. When King Arthur heard this, he was\ngreatly displeased, for he knew well that they might not gainsay\ntheir vows. \"Alas!\" said he to Sir Gawain, \"you have nigh slain me\nwith the vow and promise that ye have made, for ye have bereft me\nof the fairest fellowship that ever were seen together in any\nrealm of the world; for when they shall depart hence, I am sure\nthat all shall never meet more in this world.\"\n\nSIR GALAHAD\n\nAt that time there entered the hall a good old man, and with him\nhe brought a young knight, and these words he said: \"Peace be with\nyou, fair lords.\" Then the old man said unto King Arthur, \"Sir, I\nbring you here a young knight that is of kings' lineage, and of\nthe kindred of Joseph of Arimathea, being the son of Dame Elaine,\nthe daughter of King Pelles, king of the foreign country.\" Now the\nname of the young knight was Sir Galahad, and he was the son of\nSir Launcelot du Lac; but he had dwelt with his mother, at the\ncourt of King Pelles, his grandfather, till now he was old enough\nto bear arms, and his mother had sent him in the charge of a holy\nhermit to King Arthur's court. Then Sir Launcelot beheld his son,\nand had great joy of him. And Sir Bohort told his fellows, \"Upon\nmy life, this young knight shall come to great worship.\" The noise\nwas great in all the court, so that it came to the queen. And she\nsaid, \"I would fain see him, for he must needs be a noble knight,\nfor so is his father.\" And the queen and her ladies all said that\nhe resembled much unto his father; and he was seemly and demure as\na dove, with all manner of good features, that in the whole world\nmen might not find his match. And King Arthur said, \"God make him\na good man, for beauty faileth him not, as any that liveth.\"\n\nThen the hermit led the young knight to the Siege Perilous; and he\nlifted up the cloth, and found there letters that said, \"This is\nthe seat of Sir Galahad, the good knight;\" and he made him sit in\nthat seat. And all the knights of the Round Table marvelled\ngreatly at Sir Galahad, seeing him sit securely in that seat, and\nsaid, \"This is he by whom the Sangreal shall be achieved, for\nthere never sat one before in that seat without being mischieved.\"\n\nOn the next day the king said, \"Now, at this quest of the Sangreal\nshall all ye of the Round Table depart, and never shall I see you\nagain altogether; therefore I will that ye all repair to the\nmeadow of Camelot, for to just and tourney yet once more before ye\ndepart.\" But all the meaning of the king was to see Sir Galahad\nproved. So then were they all assembled in the meadow. Then Sir\nGalahad, by request of the king and queen, put on his harness and\nhis helm, but shield would he take none for any prayer of the\nking. And the queen was in a tower, with all her ladies, to behold\nthat tournament. Then Sir Galahad rode into the midst of the\nmeadow; and there he began to break spears marvellously, so that\nall men had wonder of him, for he surmounted all knights that\nencountered with him, except two, Sir Launcelot and Sir Perceval.\n\n    \"So many knights, that all the people cried,\n    And almost burst the barriers in their heat,\n    Shouting 'Sir Galahad and Sir Perceval!'\"\n\n    --Sir Galahad\n\nThen the king, at the queen's request, made him to alight, and\npresented him to the queen; and she said, \"Never two men resembled\none another more than he and Sir Launcelot, and therefore it is no\nmarvel that he is like him in prowess.\"\n\nThen the king and the queen went to the minster, and the knights\nfollowed them. And after the service was done they put on their\nhelms and departed, and there was great sorrow. They rode through\nthe streets of Camelot, and there was weeping of the rich and\npoor; and the king turned away, and might not speak for weeping.\nAnd so they departed, and every knight took the way that him best\nliked.\n\nSir Galahad rode forth without shield, and rode four days, and\nfound no adventure. And on the fourth day he came to a white\nabbey; and there he was received with great reverence, and led to\na chamber. He met there two knights, King Bagdemagus and Sir\nUwaine, and they made of him great solace. \"Sirs,\" said Sir\nGalahad, \"what adventure brought you hither?\" \"Sir,\" said they,\n\"it is told us that within this place is a shield, which no man\nmay bear unless he be worthy; and if one unworthy should attempt\nto bear it, it shall surely do him a mischief.\" Then King\nBagdemagus said, \"I fear not to bear it, and that shall ye see to-\nmorrow.\"\n\nSo on the morrow they arose, and heard mass; then King Bagdemagus\nasked where the adventurous shield was. Anon a monk led him behind\nan altar, where the shield hung, as white as snow; but in the\nmidst there was a red cross. Then King Bagdemagus took the shield,\nand bare it out of the minster; and he said to Sir Galahad, \"If it\nplease you, abide here till ye know how I shall speed.\"\n\nThen King Bagdemagus and his squire rode forth: and when they had\nridden a mile or two, they saw a goodly knight come towards them,\nin white armor, horse and all; and he came as fast as his horse\nmight run, with his spear in the rest; and King Bagdemagus\ndirected his spear against him, and broke it upon the white\nknight, but the other struck him so hard that he broke the mails,\nand thrust him through the right shoulder, for the shield covered\nhim not, and so he bare him from his horse. Then the white knight\nturned his horse and rode away.\n\nThen the squire went to King Bagdemagus, and asked him whether he\nwere sore wounded or not. \"I am sore wounded,\" said he, \"and full\nhardly shall I escape death.\" Then the squire set him on his\nhorse, and brought him to an abbey; and there he was taken down\nsoftly, and unarmed, and laid in a bed, and his wound was looked\nto, for he lay there long, and hardly escaped with his life. And\nthe squire brought the shield back to the abbey.\n\nThe next day Sir Galahad took the shield, and within a while he\ncame to the hermitage, where he met the white knight, and each\nsaluted the other courteously. \"Sir,\" said Sir Galahad, \"can you\ntell me the marvel of the shield?\" \"Sir,\" said the white knight,\n\"that shield belonged of old to the gentle knight, Joseph of\nArimathea; and when he came to die he said, 'Never shall man bear\nthis shield about his neck but he shall repent it, unto the time\nthat Sir Galahad the good knight bear it, the last of my lineage,\nthe which shall do many marvellous deeds.'\" And then the white\nknight vanished away.\n\nSIR GAWAIN\n\nAfter Sir Gawain departed, he rode many days, both toward and\nforward, and at last he came to the abbey where Sir Galahad took\nthe white shield. And they told Sir Gawain of the marvellous\nadventure that Sir Galahad had done. \"Truly,\" said Sir Gawain, \"I\nam not happy that I took not the way that he went, for, if I may\nmeet with him, I will not part from him lightly, that I may\npartake with him all the marvellous adventures which he shall\nachieve.\" \"Sir,\" said one of the monks, \"he will not be of your\nfellowship.\" \"Why?\" said Sir Gawain. \"Sir,\" said he, \"because ye\nbe sinful, and he is blissful.\" Then said the monk, \"Sir Gawain,\nthou must do penance for thy sins.\" \"Sir, what penance shall I\ndo?\" \"Such as I will show,\" said the good man. \"Nay,\" said Sir\nGawain, \"I will do no penance, for we knights adventurous often\nsuffer great woe and pain.\" \"Well,\" said the good man; and he held\nhis peace. And Sir Gawain departed.\n\nNow it happened, not long after this, that Sir Gawain and Sir\nHector rode together, and they came to a castle where was a great\ntournament. And Sir Gawain and Sir Hector joined themselves to the\nparty that seemed the weaker, and they drove before them the other\nparty. Then suddenly came into the lists a knight, bearing a white\nshield with a red cross, and by adventure he came by Sir Gawain,\nand he smote him so hard that he clave his helm and wounded his\nhead, so that Sir Gawain fell to the earth. When Sir Hector saw\nthat, he knew that the knight with the white shield was Sir\nGalahad, and he thought it no wisdom to abide him, and also for\nnatural love, that he was his uncle. Then Sir Galahad retired\nprivily, so that none knew where he had gone. And Sir Hector\nraised up Sir Gawain, and said, \"Sir, me seemeth your quest is\ndone.\" \"It is done,\" said Sir Gawain; \"I shall seek no further.\"\nThen Gawain was borne into the castle, and unarmed, and laid in a\nrich bed, and a leech found to search his wound. And Sir Gawain\nand Sir Hector abode together, for Sir Hector would not away till\nSir Gawain were whole.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nTHE SANGREAL (Continued)\n\nSIR LAUNCELOT\n\n\nSir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wide forest, and\nheld no path but as wild adventure lee him.\n\n    \"My golden spurs now bring to me,\n       And bring to me my richest mail,\n     For to-morrow I go over land and sea\n       In search of the Holy, Holy Grail\n\n    Shall never a bed for me be spread,\n    Nor shall a pillow be under my head,\n    Till I begin my vow to keep.\n    Here on the rushes will I sleep,\n    And perchance there may come a vision true\n    Ere day create the world anew\"\n\n                             --Lowell's Holy Grail.\n\nAnd at last he came to a stone cross. Then Sir Launcelot looked\nround him, and saw an old chapel. So he tied his horse to a tree,\nand put off his shield, and hung it upon a tree; and then he went\ninto the chapel, and looked through a place where the wall was\nbroken. And within he saw a fair altar, full richly arrayed with\ncloth of silk; and there stood a fair candlestick, which bare six\ngreat candles, and the candlestick was of silver. When Sir\nLauncelot saw this sight, he had a great wish to enter the chapel,\nbut he could find no place where he might enter. Then was he\npassing heavy and dismayed. And he returned and came again to his\nhorse, and took off his saddle and his bridle, and let him\npasture; and unlaced his helm, and ungirded his sword, and laid\nhim down to sleep upon his shield before the cross.\n\nAnd as he lay, half waking and half sleeping, he saw come by him\ntwo palfreys, both fair and white, which bare a litter, on which\nlay a sick knight. And when he was nigh the cross, he there abode\nstill. And Sir Launcelot heard him say, \"O sweet Lord, when shall\nthis sorrow leave me, and when shall the holy vessel come by me\nwhereby I shall be healed?\" And thus a great while complained the\nknight, and Sir Launcelot heard it. Then Sir Launcelot saw the\ncandlestick, with the lighted tapers, come before the cross, but\nhe could see nobody that brought it. Also there came a salver of\nsilver and the holy vessel of the Sangreal; and therewithal the\nsick knight sat him upright, and held up both his hands, and said,\n\"Fair, sweet Lord, which is here within the holy vessel, take heed\nto me, that I may be whole of this great malady.\" And therewith,\nupon his hands and upon his knees, he went so nigh that he touched\nthe holy vessel and kissed it. And anon he was whole. Then the\nholy vessel went into the chapel again, with the candlestick and\nthe light, so that Sir Launcelot wist not what became of it.\n\nThen the sick knight rose up and kissed the cross; and anon his\nsquire brought him his arms and asked his lord how he did. \"I\nthank God right heartily,\" said he, \"for, through the holy vessel,\nI am healed. But I have great marvel of this sleeping knight, who\nhath had neither grace nor power to awake during the time that the\nholy vessel hath been here present.\" \"I dare it right well say,\"\nsaid the squire, \"that this same knight is stained with some\nmanner of deadly sin, whereof he was never confessed.\" So they\ndeparted.\n\nThen anon Sir Launcelot waked, and set himself upright, and\nbethought him of what he had seen and whether it were dreams or\nnot. And he was passing heavy, and wist not what to do. And he\nsaid: \"My sin and my wretchedness hath brought me into great\ndishonor. For when I sought worldly adventures and worldly\ndesires, I ever achieved them, and had the better in every place,\nand never was I discomfited in any quarrel, were it right or\nwrong. And now I take upon me the adventure of holy things, I see\nand understand that mine old sin hindereth me, so that I had no\npower to stir nor to speak when the holy blood appeared before\nme.\" So thus he sorrowed till it was day, and heard the fowls of\nthe air sing. Then was he somewhat comforted.\n\nThen he departed from the cross into the forest. And there he\nfound a hermitage, and a hermit therein, who was going to mass. So\nwhen mass was done Sir Launcelot called the hermit to him, and\nprayed him for charity to hear his confession. \"With a good will,\"\nsaid the good man. And then he told that good man all his life,\nand how he had loved a queen unmeasurably many years. \"And all my\ngreat deeds of arms that I have done I did the most part for the\nqueen's sake, and for her sake would I do battle, were it right or\nwrong, and never did I battle all only for God's sake, but for to\nwin worship, and to cause me to be better beloved; and little or\nnaught I thanked God for it. I pray you counsel me.\"\n\n\"I will counsel you,\" said the hermit, \"if ye will insure me that\nye will never come in that queen's fellowship as much as ye may\nforbear.\" And then Sir Launcelot promised the hermit, by his\nfaith, that he would no more come in her company. \"Look that your\nheart and your mouth accord,\" said the good man, \"and I shall\ninsure you that ye shall have more worship than ever ye had.\"\n\nThen the good man enjoined Sir Launcelot such penance as he might\ndo, and he assailed Sir Launcelot and made him abide with him all\nthat day. And Sir Launcelot repented him greatly.\n\nSIR PERCEVAL\n\nSir Perceval departed and rode till the hour of noon; and he met\nin a valley about twenty men of arms. And when they saw Sir\nPerceval, they asked him whence he was; and he answered: \"Of the\ncourt of King Arthur.\" Then they cried all at once, \"Slay him.\"\nBut Sir Perceval smote the first to the earth, and his horse upon\nhim. Then seven of the knights smote upon his shield all at once,\nand the remnant slew his horse, so that he fell to the earth. So\nhad they slain him or taken him, had not the good knight Sir\nGalahad, with the red cross, come there by adventure. And when he\nsaw all the knights upon one, he cried out, \"Save me that knight's\nlife.\" Then he rode toward the twenty men of arms as fast as his\nhorse might drive, with his spear in the rest, and smote the\nforemost horse and man to the earth. And when his spear was\nbroken, he set his hand to his sword, and smote on the right hand\nand on the left, that it was marvel to see; and at every stroke he\nsmote down one, or put him to rebuke, so that they would fight no\nmore, but fled to a thick forest, and Sir Galahad followed them.\nAnd when Sir Perceval saw him chase them so, he made great sorrow\nthat his horse was slain. And he wist well it was Sir Galahad.\nThen he cried aloud, \"Ah, fair knight, abide, and suffer me to do\nthanks unto thee; for right well have ye done for me.\" But Sir\nGalahad rode so fast that at last he passed out of his sight. When\nSir Perceval saw that he would not turn, he said, \"Now am I a very\nwretch, and most unhappy above all other knights.\" So in his\nsorrow he abode all that day till it was night; and then he was\nfaint, and laid him down and slept till midnight; and then he\nawaked and saw before him a woman, who said unto him, \"Sir\nPerceval, what dost thou here?\" He answered, \"I do neither good,\nnor great ill.\" \"If thou wilt promise me,\" said she, \"that thou\nwilt fulfil my will when I summon thee, I will lend thee my own\nhorse, which shall bear thee whither thou wilt.\" Sir Perceval was\nglad of her proffer, and insured her to fulfil all her desire.\n\"Then abide me here, and I will go fetch you a horse.\" And so she\nsoon came again, and brought a horse with her that was inky black.\nWhen Perceval beheld that horse he marvelled, it was so great and\nso well apparelled. And he leapt upon him and took no heed of\nhimself. And he thrust him with his spurs, and within an hour and\nless he bare him four days' journey thence, until he came to a\nrough water, which roared, and his horse would have borne him into\nit. And when Sir Perceval came nigh the brim and saw the water so\nboisterous he doubted to overpass it. And then he made the sign of\nthe cross on his forehead. When the fiend felt him so charged, he\nshook off Sir Perceval, and went into the water crying and\nroaring; and it seemed unto him that the water burned. Then Sir\nPerceval perceived it was a fiend that would have brought him unto\nhis perdition. Then he commended himself unto God, and prayed our\nLord to keep him from all such temptations; and so he prayed all\nthat night till it was day. Then he saw that he was in a wild\nplace, that was closed with the sea nigh all about. And Sir\nPerceval looked forth over the sea, and saw a ship come sailing\ntowards him; and it came and stood still under the rock. And when\nSir Perceval saw this, he hied him thither, and found the ship\ncovered with silk; and therein was a lady of great beauty, and\nclothed so richly that none might be better.\n\nAnd when she saw Sir Perceval, she saluted him, and Sir Perceval\nreturned her salutation. Then he asked her of her country and her\nlineage. And she said, \"I am a gentlewoman that am disinherited,\nand was once the richest woman of the world.\" \"Damsel,\" said Sir\nPerceval, \"who hath disinherited you? for I have great pity of\nyou.\" \"Sir,\" said she, \"my enemy is a great and powerful lord, and\naforetime he made much of me, so that of his favor and of my\nbeauty I had a little pride more than I ought to have had. Also I\nsaid a word that pleased him not. So he drove me from his company\nand from mine heritage. Therefore I know no good knight nor good\nman, but I get him on my side if I may. And for that I know that\nthou art a good knight, I beseech thee to help me.\"\n\nThen Sir Perceval promised her all the help that he might, and she\nthanked him.\n\nAnd at that time the weather was hot, and she called to her a\ngentlewoman, and bade her bring forth a pavilion. And she did so,\nand pitched it upon the gravel. \"Sir,\" said she, \"now may ye rest\nyou in this heat of the day.\" Then he thanked her, and she put off\nhis helm and his shield, and there he slept a great while. Then he\nawoke, and asked her if she had any meat, and she said yea, and so\nthere was set upon the table all manner of meats that he could\nthink on. Also he drank there the strongest wine that ever he\ndrank, and therewith he was a little chafed more than he ought to\nbe. With that he beheld the lady, and he thought she was the\nfairest creature that ever he saw. And then Sir Perceval proffered\nher love, and prayed her that she would be his. Then she refused\nhim in a manner, for the cause he should be the more ardent on\nher, and ever he ceased not to pray her of love. And when she saw\nhim well enchafed, then she said, \"Sir Perceval, wit you well I\nshall not give ye my love, unless you swear from henceforth you\nwill be my true servant, and do no thing but that I shall command\nyou. Will you insure me this, as ye be a true knight?\" \"Yea,\" said\nhe, \"fair lady, by the faith of my body.\" And as he said this, by\nadventure and grace, he saw his sword lie on the ground naked, in\nwhose pommel was a red cross, and the sign of the crucifix\nthereon. Then he made the sign of the cross on his forehead, and\ntherewith the pavilion shrivelled up, and changed into a smoke and\na black cloud. And the damsel cried aloud, and hasted into the\nship, and so she went with the wind roaring and yelling that it\nseemed all the water burned after her. Then Sir Perceval made\ngreat sorrow, and called himself a wretch, saying, \"How nigh was I\nlost!\" Then he took his arms, and departed thence.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nTHE SANGREAL (Continued)\n\nSIR BOHORT\n\n\nWhen Sir Boliort departed from Camelot he met with a religious\nman, riding upon an ass; and Sir Bohort saluted him. \"What are\nye?\" said the good man. \"Sir,\" said Sir Bohort, \"I am a knight\nthat fain would be counselled in the quest of the Sangreal.\" So\nrode they both together till they came to a hermitage; and there\nhe prayed Sir Bohort to dwell that night with him. So he alighted,\nand put away his armor, and prayed him that he might be confessed.\nAnd they went both into the chapel, and there he was clean\nconfessed. And they ate bread and drank water together. \"Now,\"\nsaid the good man, \"I pray thee that thou eat none other till thou\nsit at the table where the Sangreal shall be.\" \"Sir,\" said Sir\nBohort, \"but how know ye that I shall sit there?\" \"Yea,\" said the\ngood man, \"that I know well; but there shall be few of your\nfellows with you.\" Then said Sir Bohort, \"I agree me thereto\" And\nthe good man when he had heard his confession found him in so pure\na life and so stable that he marvelled thereof.\n\nOn the morrow, as soon as the day appeared, Sir Bohort departed\nthence, and rode into a forest unto the hour of midday. And there\nbefell him a marvellous adventure. For he met, at the parting of\ntwo ways, two knights that led Sir Lionel, his brother, all naked,\nbound upon a strong hackney, and his hands bound before his\nbreast; and each of them held in his hand thorns wherewith they\nwent beating him, so that he was all bloody before and behind; but\nhe said never a word, but, as he was great of heart, he suffered\nall that they did to him as though he had felt none anguish. Sir\nBohort prepared to rescue his brother. But he looked on the other\nside of him, and saw a knight dragging along a fair gentlewoman,\nwho cried out, \"Saint Mary! succor your maid!\" And when she saw\nSir Bohort, she called to him, and said, \"By the faith that ye owe\nto knighthood, help me!\" When Sir Bohort heard her say thus he had\nsuch sorrow that he wist not what to do. \"For if I let my brother\nbe he must be slain, and that would I not for all the earth; and\nif I help not the maid I am shamed for ever.\" Then lift he up his\neyes and said, weeping, \"Fair Lord, whose liegeman I am, keep Sir\nLionel, my brother, that none of these knights slay him, and for\npity of you, and our Lady's sake, I shall succor this maid.\"\n\nThen he cried out to the knight, \"Sir knight, lay your hand off\nthat maid, or else ye be but dead.\" Then the knight set down the\nmaid, and took his shield, and drew out his sword. And Sir Bohort\nsmote him so hard that it went through his shield and habergeon,\non the left shoulder, and he fell down to the earth. Then came Sir\nBohort to the maid, \"Ye be delivered of this knight this time.\"\n\"Now,\" said she, \"I pray you lead me there where this knight took\nme.\" \"I shall gladly do it,\" said Sir Bohort. So he took the horse\nof the wounded knight, and set the gentlewoman upon it, and\nbrought her there where she desired to be. And there he found\ntwelve knights seeking after her; and when she told them how Sir\nBohort had delivered her, they made great joy, and besought him to\ncome to her father, a great lord, and he should be right welcomed.\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Bohort, \"that may not be; for I have a great\nadventure to do.\" So he commended them to God and departed.\n\nThen Sir Bohort rode after Sir Lionel, his brother, by the trace\nof their horses. Thus he rode seeking, a great while. Then he\novertook a man clothed in a religious clothing, who said, \"Sir\nKnight, what seek ye?\" \"Sir,\" said Sir Bohort, \"I seek my brother,\nthat I saw within a little space beaten of two knights.\" \"Ah, Sir\nBohort, trouble not thyself to seek for him, for truly he is\ndead.\" Then he showed him a new-slain body, lying in a thick bush;\nand it seemed him that it was the body of Sir Lionel. And then he\nmade such sorrow that he fell to the ground in a swoon, and lay\nthere long. And when he came to himself again, he said, \"Fair\nbrother, since the fellowship of you and me is sundered, shall I\nnever have joy again; and now He that I have taken for my Master,\nHe be my help!\" And when he had said thus he took up the body in\nhis arms, and put it upon the horse. And then he said to the man,\n\"Canst thou tell me the way to some chapel, where I may bury this\nbody?\" \"Come on,\" said the man, \"here is one fast by.\" And so they\nrode till they saw a fair tower, and beside it a chapel. Then they\nalighted both, and put the body into a tomb of marble.\n\nThen Sir Bohort commended the good man unto God, and departed. And\nhe rode all that day, and harbored with an old lady. And on the\nmorrow he rode unto the castle in a valley, and there he met with\na yeoman. \"Tell me,\" said Sir Bohort, \"knowest thou of any\nadventure?\" \"Sir,\" said he, \"here shall be, under this castle, a\ngreat and marvellous tournament.\" Then Sir Bohort thought to be\nthere, if he might meet with any of the fellowship that were in\nquest of the Sangreal; so he turned to a hermitage that was on the\nborder of the forest. And when he was come hither, he found there\nSir Lionel his brother, who sat all armed at the entry of the\nchapel door. And when Sir Bohort saw him, he had great joy, and he\nalighted off his horse, and said. \"Fair brother, when came ye\nhither?\" As soon as Sir Lionel saw him he said, \"Ah, Sir Bohort,\nmake ye no false show, for, as for you, I might have been slain,\nfor ye left me in peril of death to go succor a gentlewoman; and\nfor that misdeed I now assure you but death, for ye have right\nwell deserved it.\" When Sir Bohort perceived his brother's wrath\nhe kneeled down to the earth and cried him mercy, holding up both\nhis hands, and prayed him to forgive him. \"Nay,\" said Sir Lionel,\n\"thou shalt have but death for it, if I have the upper hand;\ntherefore leap upon thy horse and keep thyself, and if thou do not\nI will run upon thee there as thou standest on foot, and so the\nshame shall be mine, and the harm thine, but of that I reck not.\"\nWhen Sir Bohort saw that he must fight with his brother or else\ndie, he wist not what to do. Then his heart counselled him not so\nto do, inasmuch as Sir Lionel was his elder brother, wherefore he\nought to bear him reverence. Yet kneeled he down before Sir\nLionel's horse's feet, and said, \"Fair brother, have mercy upon me\nand slay me not.\" But Sir Lionel cared not, for the fiend had\nbrought him in such a will that he should slay him. When he saw\nthat Sir Bohort would not rise to give him battle, he rushed over\nhim, so that he smote him with his horse's feet to the earth, and\nhurt him sore, that he swooned of distress. When Sir Lionel saw\nthis he alighted from his horse for to have smitten off his head;\nand so he took him by the helm, and would have rent it from his\nhead. But it happened that Sir Colgrevance, a knight of the Round\nTable, came at that time thither, as it was our Lord's will; and\nthen he beheld how Sir Lionel would have slain his brother, and he\nknew Sir Bohort, whom he loved right well.\n\nThen leapt he down from his horse and took Sir Lionel by the\nshoulders, and drew him strongly back from Sir Bohort, and said,\n\"Sir Lionel, will ye slay your brother?\" \"Why,\" said Sir Lionel,\n\"will ye stay me? If ye interfere in this I will slay you, and him\nafter.\" Then he ran upon Sir Bohort, and would have smitten him;\nbut Sir Colgrevance ran between them, and said, \"If ye persist to\ndo so any more, we two shall meddle together.\" Then Sir Lionel\ndefied him, and gave him a great stroke through the helm. Then he\ndrew his sword, for he was a passing good knight, and defended\nhimself right manfully. So long endured the battle, that Sir\nBohort rose up all anguishly, and beheld Sir Colgrevance, the good\nknight, fight with his brother for his quarrel. Then was he full\nsorry and heavy, and thought that if Sir Colgrevance slew him that\nwas his brother he should never have joy, and if his brother slew\nSir Colgrevance the shame should ever be his.\n\nThen would he have risen for to have parted them, but he had not\nso much strength to stand on his feet; so he staid so long that\nSir Colgrevance had the worse; for Sir Lionel was of great\nchivalry and right hardy. Then cried Sir Colgrevance, \"Ah, Sir\nBohort, why come ye not to bring me out of peril of death, wherein\nI have put me to succor you?\" With that, Sir Lionel smote off his\nhelm and bore him to the earth. And when he had slain Sir\nColgrevance he ran upon his brother as a fiendly man, and gave him\nsuch a stroke that he made him stoop. And he that was full of\nhumility prayed him, \"for God's sake leave this battle, for if it\nbefell, fair brother, that I slew you, or ye me, we should be dead\nof that sin.\" \"Pray ye not me for mercy,\" said Sir Lionel. Then\nSir Bohort, all weeping, drew his sword, and said, \"Now God have\nmercy upon me, though I defend my life against my brother.\" With\nthat Sir Bohort lifted up his sword, and would have smitten his\nbrother. Then he heard a voice that said, \"Flee, Sir Bohort, and\ntouch him not.\" Right so alighted a cloud between them, in the\nlikeness of a fire and a marvellous flame, so that they both fell\nto the earth, and lay there a great while in a swoon. And when\nthey came to themselves, Sir Bohort saw that his brother had no\nharm; and he was right glad, for he dread sore that God had taken\nvengeance upon him. Then Sir Lionel said to his brother, \"Brother,\nforgive me, for God's sake, all that I have trespassed against\nyou.\" And Sir Bohort answered, \"God forgive it thee, and I do.\"\n\nWith that Sir Bohort heard a voice say, \"Sir Bohort, take thy way\nanon, right to the sea, for Sir Perceval abideth thee there.\" So\nSir Bohort departed, and rode the nearest way to the sea. And at\nlast he came to an abbey that was nigh the sea. That night he\nrested him there, and in his sleep there came a voice unto him and\nbade him go to the sea-shore. He started up, and made a sign of\nthe cross on his forehead, and armed himself, and made ready his\nhorse and mounted him, and at a broken wall he rode out, and came\nto the sea-shore. And there he found a ship, covered all with\nwhite samite. And he entered into the ship; but it was anon so\ndark that he might see no man, and he laid him down and slept till\nit was day. Then he awaked, and saw in the middle of the ship a\nknight all armed, save his helm. And then he knew it was Sir\nPerceval de Galis, and each made of other right great joy. Then\nsaid Sir Perceval, \"We lack nothing now but the good knight Sir\nGalahad.\"\n\nSIR LAUNCELOT (Resumed)\n\nIt befell upon a night Sir Launcelot arrived before a castle,\nwhich was rich and fair. And there was a postern that was opened\ntoward the sea, and was open without any keeping, save two lions\nkept the entry; and the moon shined clear. Anon Sir Launcelot\nheard a voice that said, \"Launcelot, enter into the castle, where\nthou shalt see a great part of thy desire.\" So he went unto the\ngate, and saw the two lions; then he set hands to his sword, and\ndrew it. Then there came suddenly as it were a stroke upon the\narm, so sore that the sword fell out of his hand, and he heard a\nvoice that said, \"O man of evil faith, wherefore believest thou\nmore in thy armor than in thy Maker?\" Then said Sir Launcelot,\n\"Fair Lord, I thank thee of thy great mercy, that thou reprovest\nme of my misdeed; now see I well that thou holdest me for thy\nservant.\" Then he made a cross on his forehead, and came to the\nlions; and they made semblance to do him harm, but he passed them\nwithout hurt, and entered into the castle, and he found no gate\nnor door but it was open. But at the last he found a chamber\nwhereof the door was shut; and he set his hand thereto, to have\nopened it, but he might not. Then he listened, and heard a voice\nwhich sung so sweetly that it seemed none earthly thing; and the\nvoice said, \"Joy and honor be to the Father of heaven.\" Then Sir\nLauncelot kneeled down before the chamber, for well he wist that\nthere was the Sangreal in that chamber. Then said he, \"Fair, sweet\nLord, if ever I did anything that pleased thee, for thy pity show\nme something of that which I seek.\" And with that he saw the\nchamber door open, and there came out a great clearness, that the\nhouse was as bright as though all the torches of the world had\nbeen there. So he came to the chamber door, and would have\nentered; and anon a voice said unto him, \"Stay, Sir Launcelot, and\nenter not.\" And he withdrew him back, and was right heavy in his\nmind. Then looked he in the midst of the chamber, and saw a table\nof silver, and the holy vessel, covered with red samite, and many\nangels about it; whereof one held a candle of wax burning, and\nanother held a cross, and the ornaments of the altar.\n\n    \"O, yet methought I saw the Holy Grail,\n    All pall'd in crimson samite, and around\n    Great angels, awful shapes, and wings and eyes\"\n\n                                      --The Holy Grail.\n\nThen for very wonder and thankfulness Sir Launcelot forgot himself\nand he stepped forward and entered the chamber. And suddenly a\nbreath that seemed intermixed with fire smote him so sore in the\nvisage that therewith he fell to the ground, and had no power to\nrise. Then felt he many hands about him, which took him up and\nbare him out of the chamber, without any amending of his swoon,\nand left him there, seeming dead to all the people. So on the\nmorrow, when it was fair daylight, and they within were arisen,\nthey found Sir Launcelot lying before the chamber door. And they\nlooked upon him and felt his pulse, to know if there were any life\nin him. And they found life in him, but he might neither stand nor\nstir any member that he had. So they took him and bare him into a\nchamber, and laid him upon a bed, far from all folk, and there he\nlay many days. Then the one said he was alive, and the others said\nnay. But said an old man, \"He is as full of life as the mightiest\nof you all, and therefore I counsel you that he be well kept till\nGod bring him back again.\" And after twenty-four days he opened\nhis eyes; and when he saw folk he made great sorrow, and said,\n\"Why have ye wakened me? for I was better at ease than I am now.\"\n\"What have ye seen?\" said they about him. \"I have seen,\" said he,\n\"great marvels that no tongue can tell, and more than any heart\ncan think.\" Then they said, \"Sir, the quest of the Sangreal is\nachieved right now in you, and never shall ye see more of it than\nye have seen.\" \"I thank God,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"of his great\nmercy, for that I have seen, for it sufficeth me.\" Then he rose up\nand clothed himself; and when he was so arrayed they marvelled\nall, for they knew it was Sir Launcelot the good knight. And after\nfour days he took his leave of the lord of the castle, and of all\nthe fellowship that were there, and thanked them for their great\nlabor and care of him. Then he departed, and turned to Camelot,\nwhere he found King Arthur and Queen Guenever; but many of the\nknights of the Round Table were slain and destroyed, more than\nhalf. Then all the court was passing glad of Sir Launcelot; and he\ntold the king all his adventures that had befallen him since he\ndeparted.\n\nSIR GALAHAD\n\nNow, when Sir Galahad had rescued Perceval from the twenty\nknights, he rode into a vast forest, wherein he abode many days.\nThen he took his way to the sea, and it befell him that he was\nbenighted in a hermitage. And the good man was glad when he saw he\nwas a knight-errant. And when they were at rest, there came a\ngentlewoman knocking at the door; and the good man came to the\ndoor to wit what she would. Then she said, \"I would speak with the\nknight which is with you.\" Then Galahad went to her, and asked her\nwhat she would. \"Sir Galahad,\" said she, \"I will that ye arm you,\nand mount upon your horse, and follow me; for I will show you the\nhighest adventure that ever knight saw.\" Then Galahad armed\nhimself and commended himself to God, and bade the damsel go\nbefore, and he would follow where she led.\n\nSo she rode as fast as her palfrey might bear her, till she came\nto the sea; and there they found the ship where Sir Bohort and Sir\nPerceval were, who cried from the ship, \"Sir Galahad, you are\nwelcome; we have waited you long.\" And when he heard them, he\nasked the damsel who they were. \"Sir,\" said she, \"leave your horse\nhere, and I shall leave mine, and we will join ourselves to their\ncompany.\" So they entered into the ship, and the two knights\nreceived them both with great joy. For they knew the damsel, that\nshe was Sir Perceval's sister. Then the wind arose and drove them\nthrough the sea all that day and the next, till the ship arrived\nbetween two rocks, passing great and marvellous; but there they\nmight not land, for there was a whirlpool; but there was another\nship, and upon it they might go without danger. \"Go we thither,\"\nsaid the gentlewoman, \"and there we shall see adventures, for such\nis our Lord's will.\" Then Sir Galahad blessed him, and entered\ntherein, and then next the gentlewoman, and then Sir Bohort and\nSir Perceval. And when they came on board they found there the\ntable of silver, and the Sangreal, which was covered with red\nsamite. And they made great reverence thereto, and Sir Galahad\nprayed a long time to our Lord, that at what time he should ask to\npass out of this world he should do so; and a voice said to him,\n\"Galahad, thou shalt have thy request; and when thou askest the\ndeath of thy body, thou shalt have it, and then shalt thou find\nthe life of thy soul.\"\n\nAnd anon the wind drove them across the sea, till they came to the\ncity of Sarras. Then took they out of the ship the table of\nsilver, and Sir Perceval and Sir Bohort took it before, and Sir\nGalahad came behind, and right so they went to the city. And at\nthe gate of the city they saw an old man, a cripple.\n\n    \"And Sir Launfal said, 'I behold in thee\n    An image of Him who died on the tree\n    Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns,\n    Thou also hast had the world's buffets and scorns;\n    And to thy life were not denied\n    The wounds in thy hands and feet and side\n    Mild Mary's son, acknowledge me;\n    Behold, through Him I give to thee!'\"\n\n                                 --Lowell's Holy Grail.\n\nThen Galahad called him, and bade him help to bear this heavy\nthing. \"Truly,\" said the old man, \"it is ten years since I could\nnot go but with crutches.\" \"Care thou not,\" said Sir Galahad, \"but\narise up, and show thy good will.\" Then the old man rose up, and\nassayed, and found himself as whole as ever he was; and he ran to\nthe table, and took one part with Sir Galahad.\n\nWhen they came to the city it chanced that the king was just dead,\nand all the city was dismayed, and wist not who might be their\nking. Right so, as they were in counsel, there came a voice among\nthem, and bade them choose the youngest knight of those three to\nbe their king. So they made Sir Galahad king, by all the assent of\nthe city. And when he was made king, he commanded to make a chest\nof gold and of precious stones to hold the holy vessel. And every\nday the three companions would come before it and make their\nprayers.\n\nNow at the year's end, and the same day of the year that Sir\nGalahad received the crown, he got up early, and, with his\nfellows, came to where the holy vessel was; and they saw one\nkneeling before it that had about him a great fellowship of\nangels; and he called Sir Galahad, and said, \"Come, thou servant\nof the Lord, and thou shalt see what thou hast much desired to\nsee.\" And Sir Galahad's mortal flesh trembled right hard when he\nbegan to behold the spiritual things. Then said the good man, \"Now\nwottest thou who I am?\" \"Nay,\" said Sir Galahad. \"I am Joseph of\nArimathea, whom our Lord hath sent here to thee, to bear thee\nfellowship.\" Then Sir Galahad held up his hands toward heaven, and\nsaid, \"Now, blessed Lord, would I not longer live, if it might\nplease thee.\" And when he had said these words, Sir Galahad went\nto Sir Perceval and to Sir Bohort and kissed them, and commended\nthem to God. And then he kneeled down before the table, and made\nhis prayers, and suddenly his soul departed, and a great multitude\nof angels bare his soul up to heaven, so as the two fellows could\nwell behold it. Also they saw come from heaven a hand, but they\nsaw not the body; and the hand came right to the vessel and bare\nit up to heaven. Since then was there never one so hardy as to say\nthat he had seen the Sangreal on earth any more.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nSIR AGRIVAIN'S TREASON\n\n\nWhen Sir Perceval and Sir Bohort saw Sir Galahad dead they made as\nmuch sorrow as ever did two men. And if they had not been good men\nthey might have fallen into despair. As soon as Sir Galahad was\nburied Sir Perceval retired to a hermitage out of the city, and\ntook a religious clothing; and Sir Bohort was always with him, but\ndid not change his secular clothing, because he purposed to return\nto the realm of Loegria. Thus a year and two months lived Sir\nPerceval in the hermitage a full holy life, and then passed out of\nthis world, and Sir Bohort buried him by his sister and Sir\nGalahad. Then Sir Bohort armed himself and departed from Sarras,\nand entered into a ship, and sailed to the kingdom of Loegria, and\nin due time arrived safe at Camelot, where the king was. Then was\nthere great joy made of him in the whole court, for they feared he\nhad been dead. Then the king made great clerks to come before him,\nthat they should chronicle of the high adventures of the good\nknights. And Sir Bohort told him of the adventures that had\nbefallen him, and his two fellows, Sir Perceval and Sir Galahad.\nAnd Sir Launcelot told the adventures of the Sangreal that he had\nseen. All this was made in great books, and put up in the church\nat Salisbury.\n\nSo King Arthur and Queen Guenever made great joy of the remnant\nthat were come home, and chiefly of Sir Launcelot and Sir Bohort.\nThen Sir Launcelot began to resort unto Queen Guenever again, and\nforgot the promise that he made in the quest: so that many in the\ncourt spoke of it, and in especial Sir Agrivain, Sir Gawain's\nbrother, for he was ever open-mouthed. So it happened Sir Gawain\nand all his brothers were in King Arthur's chamber, and then Sir\nAgrivain said thus openly, \"I marvel that we all are not ashamed\nto see and to know so noble a knight as King Arthur so to be\nshamed by the conduct of Sir Launcelot and the queen. \"Then spoke\nSir Gawain, and said, \"Brother, Sir Agrivain, I pray you and\ncharge you move not such matters any more before me, for be ye\nassured I will not be of your counsel.\" \"Neither will we,\" said\nSir Gaheris and Sir Gareth. \"Then will I,\" said Sir Modred. \"I\ndoubt you not,\" said Sir Gawain, \"for to all mischief ever were ye\nprone; yet I would that ye left all this, for I know what will\ncome of it.\"\n\n            \"Modred's narrow foxy face,\n    Heart-hiding smile, and gray persistent eye:\n    Henceforward, too, the Powers that tend the soul\n    To help it from the death that cannot die,\n    And save it even in extremes, began\n    To vex and plague.\"\n\n                                --Guinevere.\n\n\"Fall of it what fall may,\" said Sir Agrivain, \"I will disclose it\nto the king.\" With that came to them King Arthur. \"Now, brothers,\nhold your peace,\" said Sir Gawain. \"We will not,\" said Sir\nAgrivain. Then said Sir Gawain, \"I will not hear your tales nor be\nof your counsel.\" \"No more will I,\" said Sir Gareth and Sir\nGaheris, and therewith they departed, making great sorrow.\n\nThen Sir Agrivain told the king all that was said in the court of\nthe conduct of Sir Launcelot and the queen, and it grieved the\nking very much. But he would not believe it to be true without\nproof. So Sir Agrivain laid a plot to entrap Sir Launcelot and the\nqueen, intending to take them together unawares. Sir Agrivain and\nSir Modred led a party for this purpose, but Sir Launcelot escaped\nfrom them, having slain Sir Agrivain and wounded Sir Modred. Then\nSir Launcelot hastened to his friends, and told them what had\nhappened, and withdrew with them to the forest; but he left spies\nto bring him tidings of whatever might be done.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot escaped, but the queen remained in the king's\npower, and Arthur could no longer doubt of her guilt. And the law\nwas such in those days that they who committed such crimes, of\nwhat estate or condition soever they were, must be burned to\ndeath, and so it was ordained for Queen Guenever. Then said King\nArthur to Sir Gawain, \"I pray you make you ready, in your best\narmor, with your brethren, Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth, to bring my\nqueen to the fire, there to receive her death.\" \"Nay, my most\nnoble lord,\" said Sir Gawain, \"that will I never do; for know thou\nwell, my heart will never serve me to see her die, and it shall\nnever be said that I was of your counsel in her death.\" Then the\nking commanded Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth to be there, and they\nsaid, \"We will be there, as ye command us, sire, but in peaceable\nwise, and bear no armor upon us.\"\n\nSo the queen was led forth, and her ghostly father was brought to\nher to shrive her, and there was weeping and wailing of many lords\nand ladies. And one went and told Sir Launcelot that the queen was\nled forth to her death. Then Sir Launcelot and the knights that\nwere with him fell upon the troop that guarded the queen, and\ndispersed them, and slew all who withstood them. And in the\nconfusion Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris were slain, for they were\nunarmed and defenceless. And Sir Launcelot carried away the queen\nto his castle of La Joyeuse Garde.\n\nThen there came one to Sir Gawain and told him how that Sir\nLauncelot had slain the knights and carried away the queen. \"O\nLord, defend my brethren!\" said Sir Gawain. \"Truly,\" said the man,\n\"Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris are slain.\" \"Alas!\" said Sir Gawain,\n\"now is my joy gone.\" And then he fell down and swooned, and long\nhe lay there as he had been dead.\n\nWhen he arose out of his swoon Sir Gawain ran to the king, crying,\n\"O King Arthur, mine uncle, my brothers are slain.\" Then the king\nwept and he both. \"My king, my lord, and mine uncle,\" said Sir\nGawain, \"bear witness now that I make you a promise that I shall\nhold by my knighthood, and from this day I will never fail Sir\nLauncelot until the one of us have slain the other. I will seek\nSir Launcelot throughout seven kings' realms, but I shall slay him\nor he shall slay me.\" \"Ye shall not need to seek him,\" said the\nking, \"for as I hear, Sir Launcelot will abide me and you in the\nJoyeuse Garde; and much people draweth unto him, as I hear say.\"\n\"That may I believe,\" said Sir Gawain; \"but, my lord, summon your\nfriends, and I will summon mine.\" \"It shall be done,\" said the\nking. So then the king sent letters and writs throughout all\nEngland, both in the length and breadth, to summon all his\nknights. And unto Arthur drew many knights, dukes, and earls, so\nthat he had a great host. Thereof heard Sir Launcelot, and\ncollected all whom he could; and many good knights held with him,\nboth for his sake and for the queen's sake. But King Arthur's host\nwas too great for Sir Launcelot to abide him in the field; and he\nwas full loath to do battle against the king. So Sir Launcelot\ndrew him to his strong castle, with all manner of provisions. Then\ncame King Arthur with Sir Gawain, and laid siege all about La\nJoyeuse Garde, both the town and the castle; but in no wise would\nSir Launcelot ride out of his castle, neither suffer any of his\nknights to issue out, until many weeks were past.\n\nThen it befell upon a day in harvest-time, Sir Launcelot looked\nover the wall, and spoke aloud to King Arthur and Sir Gawain, \"My\nlords both, all is in vain that ye do at this siege, for here ye\nshall win no worship, but only dishonor; for if I list to come\nout, and my good knights, I shall soon make an end of this war.\"\n\"Come forth,\" said Arthur, \"if thou darest, and I promise thee I\nshall meet thee in the midst of the field.\" \"God forbid me,\" said\nSir Launcelot, \"that I should encounter with the most noble king\nthat made me knight.\" \"Fie upon thy fair language,\" said the king,\n\"for know thou well I am thy mortal foe, and ever will be to my\ndying day.\" And Sir Gawain said, \"What cause hadst thou to slay my\nbrother, Sir Gaheris, who bore no arms against thee, and Sir\nGareth, whom thou madest knight, and who loved thee more than all\nmy kin? Therefore know thou well I shall make war to thee all the\nwhile that I may live.\"\n\nWhen Sir Bohort, and Sir Hector de Marys, and Sir Lionel heard\nthis outcry, they called to them Sir Palamedes, and Sir Saffire\nhis brother, and Sir Lawayn, with many more, and all went to Sir\nLauncelot. And they said, \"My lord, Sir Launcelot, we pray you, if\nyou will have our service keep us no longer within these walls,\nfor know well all your fair speech and forbearance will not avail\nyou.\" \"Alas!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"to ride forth and to do battle\nI am full loath.\" Then he spake again unto the king and Sir\nGawain, and willed them to keep out of the battle; but they\ndespised his words. So then Sir Launcelot's fellowship came out of\nthe castle in full good array. And always Sir Launcelot charged\nall his knights, in any wise, to save King Arthur and Sir Gawain.\n\nThen came forth Sir Gawain from the king's host and offered\ncombat, and Sir Lionel encountered with him, and there Sir Gawain\nsmote Sir Lionel through the body, that he fell to the earth as if\ndead. Then there began a great conflict, and much people were\nslain; but ever Sir Launcelot did what he might to save the people\non King Arthur's party, and ever King Arthur followed Sir\nLauncelot to slay him; but Sir Launcelot suffered him, and would\nnot strike again. Then Sir Bohort encountered with King Arthur,\nand smote him down; and he alighted and drew his sword, and said\nto Sir Launcelot, \"Shall I make an end of this war?\" for he meant\nto have slain King Arthur. \"Not so,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"touch\nhim no more, for I will never see that most noble king that made\nme knight either slain or shamed;\" and therewith Sir Launcelot\nalighted off his horse, and took up the king, and horsed him\nagain, and said thus: \"My lord Arthur, for God's love, cease this\nstrife.\" And King Arthur looked upon Sir Launcelot, and the tears\nburst from his eyes, thinking on the great courtesy that was in\nSir Launcelot more than in any other man; and therewith the king\nrode his way. Then anon both parties withdrew to repose them, and\nburied the dead.\n\nBut the war continued, and it was noised abroad through all\nChristendom, and at last it was told afore the pope; and he,\nconsidering the great goodness of King Arthur, and of Sir\nLauncelot, called unto him a noble clerk, which was the Bishop of\nRochester, who was then in his dominions, and sent him to King\nArthur, charging him that he take his queen, dame Guenever, unto\nhim again, and make peace with Sir Launcelot.\n\nSo, by means of this bishop, peace was made for the space of one\nyear; and King Arthur received back the queen, and Sir Launcelot\ndeparted from the kingdom with all his knights, and went to his\nown country. So they shipped at Cardiff, and sailed unto Benwick,\nwhich some men call Bayonne. And all the people of those lands\ncame to Sir Launcelot, and received him home right joyfully. And\nSir Launcelot stablished and garnished all his towns and castles,\nand he greatly advanced all his noble knights, Sir Lionel and Sir\nBohort, and Sir Hector de Marys, Sir Blamor, Sir Lawayne, and many\nothers, and made them lords of lands and castles; till he left\nhimself no more than any one of them.\n\n      \"Then Arthur made vast banquets, and strange knights\n    From the four winds came in: and each one sat,\n    Tho' served with choice from air, land, stream and sea,\n    Oft in mid-banquet measuring with his eyes\n    His neighbor's make and might.\"\n\n                                    --Pelleas and Ettarre.\n\nBut when the year was passed, King Arthur and Sir Gawain came with\na great host, and landed upon Sir Launcelot's lands, and burned\nand wasted all that they might overrun. Then spake Sir Bohort and\nsaid, \"My lord, Sir Launcelot, give us leave to meet them in the\nfield, and we shall make them rue the time that ever they came to\nthis country.\" Then said Sir Launcelot, \"I am full loath to ride\nout with my knights for shedding of Christian blood; so we will\nyet a while keep our walls, and I will send a messenger unto my\nlord Arthur, to propose a treaty; for better is peace than always\nwar.\" So Sir Launcelot sent forth a damsel, and a dwarf with her,\nrequiring King Arthur to leave his warring upon his lands; and so\nshe started on a palfrey, and the dwarf ran by her side. And when\nshe came to the pavilion of King Arthur, she alighted, and there\nmet her a gentle knight, Sir Lucan, the butler, and said, \"Fair\ndamsel, come ye from Sir Launcelot du Lac?\" \"Yea, sir,\" she said,\n\"I come hither to speak with the king.\" \"Alas!\" said Sir Lucan,\n\"my lord Arthur would be reconciled to Sir Launcelot, but Sir\nGawain will not suffer him.\" And with this Sir Lucan led the\ndamsel to the king, where he sat with Sir Gawain, to hear what she\nwould say. So when she had told her tale, the tears ran out of the\nking's eyes; and all the lords were forward to advise the king to\nbe accorded with Sir Launcelot, save only Sir Gawain; and he said,\n\"My lord, mine uncle, what will ye do? Will you now turn back, now\nyou are so far advanced upon your journey? If ye do all the world\nwill speak shame of you.\" \"Nay,\" said King Arthur, \"I will do as\nye advise me; but do thou give the damsel her answer, for I may\nnot speak to her for pity.\"\n\nThen said Sir Gawain, \"Damsel, say ye to Sir Launcelot, that it is\nwaste labor to sue to mine uncle for peace, and say that I, Sir\nGawain, send him word that I promise him, by the faith I owe unto\nGod and to knighthood, I shall never leave him till he have slain\nme or I him.\" So the damsel returned; and when Sir Launcelot had\nheard this answer the tears ran down his cheeks.\n\nThen it befell on a day Sir Gawain came before the gates, armed at\nall points, and cried with a loud voice, \"Where art thou now, thou\nfalse traitor, Sir Launcelot? Why hidest thou thyself within holes\nand walls like a coward? Look out now, thou traitor knight, and I\nwill avenge upon thy body the death of my three brethren.\" All\nthis language heard Sir Launcelot, and the knights which were\nabout him; and they said to him, \"Sir Launcelot, now must ye\ndefend you like a knight, or else be shamed for ever, for you have\nslept overlong and suffered overmuch.\" Then Sir Launcelot spake on\nhigh unto King Arthur, and said, \"My lord Arthur, now I have\nforborne long, and suffered you and Sir Gawain to do what ye\nwould, and now must I needs defend myself, inasmuch as Sir Gawain\nhath appealed me of treason.\" Then Sir Launcelot armed him and\nmounted upon his horse, and the noble knights came out of the\ncity, and the host without stood all apart; and so the covenant\nwas made that no man should come near the two knights, nor deal\nwith them, till one were dead or yielded.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawain departed a great way asunder,\nand then they came together with all their horses' might, and each\nsmote the other in the middle of their shields, but neither of\nthem was unhorsed, but their horses fell to the earth. And then\nthey leapt from their horses, and drew their swords, and gave many\nsad strokes, so that the blood burst out in many places. Now Sir\nGawain had this gift from a holy man, that every day in the year,\nfrom morning to noon, his strength was increased threefold, and\nthen it fell again to its natural measure. Sir Launcelot was aware\nof this, and therefore, during the three hours that Sir Gawain's\nstrength was at the height, Sir Launcelot covered himself with his\nshield, and kept his might in reserve. And during that time Sir\nGawain gave him many sad brunts, that all the knights that looked\non marvelled how Sir Launcelot might endure them. Then, when it\nwas past noon, Sir Gawain had only his own might; and when Sir\nLauncelot felt him so brought down he stretched himself up, and\ndoubled his strokes, and gave Sir Gawain such a buffet that he\nfell down on his side; and Sir Launcelot drew back and would\nstrike no more. \"Why withdrawest thou, false traitor?\" then said\nSir Gawain; \"now turn again and slay me, for if thou leave me thus\nwhen I am whole again, I shall do battle with thee again.\" \"I\nshall endure you, sir, by God's grace,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"but\nknow thou well Sir Gawain, I will never smite a felled knight.\"\nAnd so Sir Launcelot went into the city, and Sir Gawain was borne\ninto King Arthur's pavilion, and his wounds were looked to.\n\nThus the siege endured, and Sir Gawain lay helpless near a month;\nand when he was near recovered came tidings unto King Arthur that\nmade him return with all his host to England.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nMORTE D'ARTHUR\n\n\nSir Modred was left ruler of all England, and he caused letters to\nbe written, as if from beyond sea, that King Arthur was slain in\nbattle. So he called a Parliament, and made himself be crowned\nking; and he took the queen Guenever, and said plainly that he\nwould wed her, but she escaped from him and took refuge in the\nTower of London. And Sir Modred went and laid siege about the\nTower of London, and made great assaults thereat, but all might\nnot avail him. Then came word to Sir Modred that King Arthur had\nraised the siege of Sir Launcelot, and was coming home. Then Sir\nModred summoned all the barony of the land; and much people drew\nunto Sir Modred, and said they would abide with him for better and\nfor worse; and he drew a great host to Dover, for there he heard\nsay that King Arthur would arrive.\n\n    \"I hear the steps of Modred in the west,\n    And with him many of thy people, and knights\n    Once thine, whom thou hast loved, but grosser grown\n    Than heathen, spitting at their vows and thee\"\n\n                                 --The Passing of Arthur.\n\nAnd as Sir Modred was at Dover with his host, came King Arthur,\nwith a great number of ships and galleys, and there was Sir Modred\nawaiting upon the landing. Then was there launching of great boats\nand small, full of noble men of arms, and there was much slaughter\nof gentle knights on both parts. But King Arthur was so\ncourageous, there might no manner of knights prevent him to land,\nand his knights fiercely followed him; and so they landed, and put\nSir Modred aback so that he fled, and all his people. And when the\nbattle was done, King Arthur commanded to bury his people that\nwere dead. And then was noble Sir Gawain found, in a great boat,\nlying more than half dead. And King Arthur went to him, and made\nsorrow out of measure. \"Mine uncle,\" said Sir Gawain, \"know thou\nwell my death-day is come, and all is through mine own hastiness\nand wilfulness, for I am smitten upon the old wound which Sir\nLauncelot gave me, of which I feel I must die. And had Sir\nLauncelot been with you as of old, this war had never begun, and\nof all this I am the cause.\" Then Sir Gawain prayed the king to\nsend for Sir Launcelot, and to cherish him above all other\nknights. And so at the hour of noon Sir Gawain yielded up his\nspirit, and then the king bade inter him in a chapel within Dover\nCastle; and there all men may see the skull of him, and the same\nwound is seen that Sir Launcelot gave him in battle.\n\nThen was it told the king that Sir Modred had pitched his camp\nupon Barrendown; and the king rode thither, and there was a great\nbattle betwixt them, and King Arthur's party stood best, and Sir\nModred and his party fled unto Canterbury.\n\nAnd there was a day assigned betwixt King Arthur and Sir Modred\nthat they should meet upon a down beside Salisbury, and not far\nfrom the sea-side, to do battle yet again. And at night, as the\nking slept, he dreamed a wonderful dream. It seemed him verily\nthat there came Sir Gawain unto him, with a number of fair ladies\nwith him. And when King Arthur saw him, he said, \"Welcome, my\nsister's son; I weened thou hadst been dead; and now I see thee\nalive great is my joy. But, O fair nephew, what be these ladies\nthat hither be come with you?\" \"Sir,\" said Sir Gawain, \"all these\nbe ladies for whom I have fought when I was a living man; and\nbecause I did battle for them in righteous quarrel they have given\nme grace to bring me hither unto you to warn you of your death, if\nye fight to-morrow with Sir Modred. Therefore take ye treaty, and\nproffer you largely for a month's delay; for within a month shall\ncome Sir Launcelot and all his noble knights, and rescue you\nworshipfully, and slay Sir Modred and all that hold with him.\" And\nthen Sir Gawain and all the ladies vanished. And anon the king\ncalled to fetch his noble lords and wise bishops unto him. And\nwhen they were come, the king told them his vision, and what Sir\nGawain had told him. Then the king sent Sir Lucan, the butler, and\nSir Bedivere, with two bishops, and charged them in any wise to\ntake a treaty for a month and a day with Sir Modred. So they\ndeparted, and came to Sir Modred; and so, at the last, Sir Modred\nwas agreed to have Cornwall and Kent during Arthur's life, and all\nEngland after his death.\n\n    \"Sir Modred; he the nearest to the king,\n    His nephew, ever like a subtle beast\n    Lay couchant with his eyes upon the throne,\n    Ready to spring, waiting a chance.\"\n\n                                     --Guinevere\n\nThen was it agreed that King Arthur and Sir Modred should meet\nbetwixt both their hosts, and each of them should bring fourteen\npersons, and then and there they should sign the treaty. And when\nKing Arthur and his knights were prepared to go forth, he warned\nall his host, \"If so be ye see any sword drawn, look ye come on\nfiercely, and slay whomsoever withstandeth, for I in no wise trust\nthat traitor, Sir Modred.\" In like wise Sir Modred warned his\nhost. So they met, and were agreed and accorded thoroughly. And\nwine was brought, and they drank. Right then came an adder out of\na little heath-bush, and stung a knight on the foot. And when the\nknight felt him sting, he looked down and saw the adder, and then\nhe drew his sword to slay the adder, and thought of no other harm.\nAnd when the host on both sides saw that sword drawn, they blew\ntrumpets and horns, and shouted greatly. And King Arthur took his\nhorse, and rode to his party, saying, \"Alas, this unhappy day!\"\nAnd Sir Modred did in like wise. And never was there a more\ndoleful battle in Christian land. And ever King Arthur rode\nthroughout the battle, and did full nobly, as a worthy king\nshould, and Sir Modred that day did his devoir, and put himself in\ngreat peril. And thus they fought all the long day, till the most\nof all the noble knights lay dead upon the ground. Then the king\nlooked about him, and saw of all his host were left alive but two\nknights, Sir Lucan, the butler, and Sir Bedivere, his brother, and\nthey were full sore wounded. Then King Arthur saw where Sir Modred\nleaned upon his sword among a great heap of dead men. \"Now give me\nmy spear,\" said Arthur unto Sir Lucan; \"for yonder I espy the\ntraitor that hast wrought all this woe.\" \"Sir, let him be,\" said\nSir Lucan; \"for if ye pass this unhappy day, ye shall be right\nwell revenged upon him. Remember what the sprite of Sir Gawain\ntold you, and leave off now, for ye have won the field; and if ye\nleave off now this evil day of destiny is past.\" \"Betide me life,\nbetide me death,\" said King Arthur, \"he shall not now escape my\nhands.\" Then the king took his spear in both hands, and ran toward\nSir Modred, crying, \"Traitor, now is thy death-day come.\" And\nthere King Arthur smote Sir Modred under the shield, with a thrust\nof his spear through the body. And when Sir Modred felt that he\nhad his death-wound, with the might that he had he smote King\nArthur, with his sword holden in both his hands, on the side of\nthe head, that the sword pierced the helmet and the brain-pan; and\nthen Sir Modred fell stark dead upon the earth. And the noble\nArthur fell in a swoon to the earth. And Sir Lucan, the butler,\nand Sir Bedivere raised him up, and gently led him betwixt them\nboth to a little chapel not far from the sea-side. And when the\nking was there he thought him well eased. Then heard they people\ncry in the field. And Sir Lucan went to see what that cry\nbetokened; and he saw by the moonlight that pillers and robbers\nwere come to rob the dead. And he returned, and said to the king,\n\"By my rede, it is best that we bring you to some town.\" \"I would\nit were so,\" said the king. And when the king tried to go he\nfainted. Then Sir Lucan took up the king on the one part, and Sir\nBedivere on the other part; and in the lifting, Sir Lucan fell in\na swoon to the earth, for he was grievously wounded. And then the\nnoble knight's heart burst. And when the king awoke he beheld Sir\nLucan how he lay foaming at the mouth, and speechless. \"Alas!\"\nsaid the king, \"this is to me a full heavy sight, to see this\nnoble duke so die for my sake; for he would have holpen me that\nhad more need of help than I, and he would not complain, his heart\nwas so set to help me.\" Then Sir Bedivere wept for his brother.\n\"Leave this mourning and weeping,\" said the king, \"for wilt thou\nwell, if I might live myself, the death of Sir Lucan would grieve\nme evermore; but my time hieth fast. Therefore,\" said Arthur unto\nSir Bedivere, \"take thou Excalibar, my good sword, and go with it\nto yonder water-side; and when thou comest there I charge thee\nthrow my sword in that water, and come again and tell me what thou\nthere seest.\" \"My lord,\" said Sir Bedivere, \"your commandment\nshall be done.\" So Sir Bedivere departed, and by the way he beheld\nthat noble sword, that the pommel and the haft were all of\nprecious stones; and then he said to himself, \"If I throw this\nrich sword into the water no good shall come thereof, but only\nharm and loss.\" And then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibar under a tree.\nAnd so, as soon as he might, he came again to the king. \"What\nsawest thou there?\" said the king. \"Sir,\" he said, \"I saw\nnothing.\" \"Alas! thou hast deceived me,\" said the king. \"Go thou\nlightly again, and as thou love me, spare not to throw it in.\"\nThen Sir Bedivere went again, and took the sword in his hand to\nthrow it; but again it beseemed him but sin and shame to throw\naway that noble sword, and he hid it away again, and returned, and\ntold the king he had done his commandment. \"What sawest thou\nthere?\" said the king. \"Sir,\" he said, \"I saw nothing but waters\ndeep and waves wan.\" \"Ah, traitor untrue!\" said King Arthur, \"now\nhast thou betrayed me twice. And yet thou art named a noble\nknight, and hast been lief and dear to me. But now go again, and\ndo as I bid thee, for thy long tarrying putteth me in jeopardy of\nmy life.\" Then Sir Bedivere went to the sword, and lightly took it\nup, and went to the water-side, and he bound the girdle about the\nhilt, and then he threw the sword as far into the water as he\nmight. And there came an arm and a hand out of the water, and met\nit, and caught it, and shook it thrice and brandished it, and then\nvanished away the hand with the sword in the water.\n\nThen Sir Bedivere came again to the king, and told him what he\nsaw. \"Help me hence,\" said the king, \"for I fear I have tarried\ntoo long.\" Then Sir Bedivere took the king on his back, and so\nwent with him to that water-side; and when they came there, even\nfast by the bank there rode a little barge with many fair ladies\nin it, and among them was a queen; and all had black hoods, and\nthey wept and shrieked when they saw King Arthur.\n\n\"Now put me in the barge,\" said the king. And there received him\nthree queens with great mourning, and in one of their laps King\nArthur laid his head. And the queen said, \"Ah, dear brother, why\nhave ye tarried so long? Alas! this wound on your head hath caught\nover-much cold.\" And then they rowed from the land, and Sir\nBedivere beheld them go from him. Then he cried: \"Ah, my lord\nArthur, will ye leave me here alone among mine enemies?\" \"Comfort\nthyself,\" said the king, \"for in me is no further help; for I will\nto the Isle of Avalon, to heal me of my grievous wound.\" And as\nsoon as Sir Bedivere had lost sight of the barge, he wept and\nwailed; then he took the forest, and went all that night, and in\nthe morning he was ware of a chapel and a hermitage.\n\nThen went Sir Bedivere thither; and when he came into the chapel,\nhe saw where lay an hermit on the ground, near a tomb that was\nnewly graven. \"Sir,\" said Sir Bedivere, \"what man is there buried\nthat ye pray so near unto?\" \"Fair son,\" said the hermit, \"I know\nnot verily. But this night there came a number of ladies, and\nbrought hither one dead, and prayed me to bury him.\" \"Alas!\" said\nSir Bedivere, \"that was my lord, King Arthur.\" Then Sir Bedivere\nswooned; and when he awoke he prayed the hermit he might abide\nwith him, to live with fasting and prayers. \"Ye are welcome,\" said\nthe hermit. So there bode Sir Bedivere with the hermit; and he put\non poor clothes, and served the hermit full lowly in fasting and\nin prayers.\n\nThus of Arthur I find never more written in books that be\nauthorized, nor more of the very certainty of his death; but thus\nwas he led away in a ship, wherein were three queens; the one was\nKing Arthur's sister, Queen Morgane le Fay; the other was Viviane,\nthe Lady of the Lake; and the third was the queen of North Galis.\nAnd this tale Sir Bedivere, knight of the Table Round, made to be\nwritten.\n\nYet some men say that King Arthur is not dead, but hid away into\nanother place, and men say that he shall come again and reign over\nEngland. But many say that there is written on his tomb this\nverse:\n\n    \"Hie facet Arthurus, Rex quondam, Rexque futurus.\"\n        Here Arthur lies, King once and King to be.\n\nAnd when Queen Guenever understood that King Arthur was slain, and\nall the noble knights with him, she stole away, and five ladies\nwith her; and so she went to Almesbury, and made herself a nun,\nand ware white clothes and black, and took great penance as ever\ndid sinful lady, and lived in fasting, prayers, and alms-deeds.\nAnd there she was abbess and ruler of the nuns.\n\n     \"And when she came to Almesbury she spake\n    There to the nuns, and said, 'Mine enemies\n    Pursue me, but, O peaceful Sisterhood,\n    Receive, and yield me sanctuary, nor ask\n    Her name to whom ye yield it, till her time\n    To tell you;' and her beauty, grace and power\n    Wrought as a charm upon them, and they spared\n    To ask it.\"\n\n                                        --Guinevere.\n\nNow turn we from her, and speak of Sir Launcelot of the Lake.\n\nWhen Sir Launcelot heard in his country that Sir Modred was\ncrowned king of England, and made war against his own uncle, King\nArthur, then was Sir Launcelot wroth out of measure, and said to\nhis kinsmen: \"Alas, that double traitor, Sir Modred! now it\nrepenteth me that ever he escaped out of my hands.\" Then Sir\nLauncelot and his fellows made ready in all haste, with ships and\ngalleys, to pass into England; and so he passed over till he came\nto Dover, and there he landed with a great army. Then Sir\nLauncelot was told that King Arthur was slain. \"Alas!\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"this is the heaviest tidings that ever came to me.\"\nThen he called the kings, dukes, barons, and knights, and said\nthus: \"My fair lords, I thank you all for coming into this country\nwith me, but we came too late, and that shall repent me while I\nlive. But since it is so,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I will myself ride\nand seek my lady, Queen Guenever, for I have heard say she hath\nfled into the west; therefore ye shall abide me here fifteen days,\nand if I come not within that time, then take your ships and your\nhost, and depart into your country.\"\n\nSo Sir Launcelot departed and rode westerly, and there he sought\nmany days; and at last he came to a nunnery, and was seen of Queen\nGuenever as he walked in the cloister; and when she saw him she\nswooned away. And when she might speak she bade him to be called\nto her. And when Sir Launcelot was brought to her she said: \"Sir\nLauncelot, I require thee and beseech thee, for all the love that\never was betwixt us, that thou never see me more, but return to\nthy kingdom and take thee a wife, and live with her with joy and\nbliss; and pray for me to my Lord, that I may get my soul's\nhealth.\" \"Nay, madam,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"wit you well that I\nshall never do; but the same destiny that ye have taken you to\nwill I take me unto, for to please and serve God.\" And so they\nparted, with tears and much lamentation; and the ladies bare the\nqueen to her chamber, and Sir Launcelot took his horse and rode\naway, weeping.\n\nAnd at last Sir Launcelot was ware of a hermitage and a chapel,\nand then he heard a little bell ring to mass; and thither he rode\nand alighted, and tied his horse to the gate, and heard mass. And\nhe that sang the mass was the hermit with whom Sir Bedivere had\ntaken up his abode; and Sir Bedivere knew Sir Launcelot, and they\nspake together after mass. But when Sir Bedivere had told his\ntale, Sir Launcelot's heart almost burst for sorrow. Then he\nkneeled down, and prayed the hermit to shrive him, and besought\nthat he might be his brother. Then the hermit said, \"I will\ngladly;\" and then he put a habit upon Sir Launcelot, and there he\nserved God day and night, with prayers and fastings.\n\nAnd the great host abode at Dover till the end of the fifteen days\nset by Sir Launcelot, and then Sir Bohort made them to go home\nagain to their own country; and Sir Bohort, Sir Hector de Marys,\nSir Blamor, and many others, took on them to ride through all\nEngland to seek Sir Launcelot. So Sir Bohort by fortune rode until\nhe came to the same chapel where Sir Launcelot was; and when he\nsaw Sir Launcelot in that manner of clothing he, prayed the hermit\nthat he might be in that same. And so there was an habit put upon\nhim, and there he lived in prayers and fasting. And within half a\nyear came others of the knights, their fellows, and took such a\nhabit as Sir Launcelot and Sir Bohort had. Thus they endured in\ngreat penance six years.\n\nAnd upon a night there came a vision to Sir Launcelot, and charged\nhim to haste toward Almesbury, and \"by the time thou come there,\nthou shalt find Queen Guenever dead.\" Then Sir Launcelot rose up\nearly and told the hermit thereof. Then said the hermit, \"It were\nwell that ye disobey not this vision.\" And Sir Launcelot took his\nseven companions with him, and on foot they went from Glastonbury\nto Almesbury, which is more than thirty miles. And when they were\ncome to Almesbury, they found that Queen Guenever died but half an\nhour before. Then Sir Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not\ngreatly, but sighed. And so he did all the observance of the\nservice himself, both the \"dirige\" at night, and at morn he sang\nmass. And there was prepared an horse-bier, and Sir Launcelot and\nhis fellows followed the bier on foot from Almesbury until they\ncame to Glastonbury; and she was wrapped in cered clothes, and\nlaid in a coffin of marble. And when she was put in the earth Sir\nLauncelot swooned, and lay long as one dead.\n\nAnd Sir Launcelot never after ate but little meat, nor drank; but\ncontinually mourned. And within six weeks Sir Launcelot fell sick;\nand he sent for the hermit and all his true fellows, and said,\n\"Sir hermit, I pray you give me all my rights that a Christian man\nought to have.\" \"It shall not need,\" said the hermit and all his\nfellows; \"it is but heaviness of your blood, and to-morrow morn\nyou shall be well\" \"My fair lords,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"my\ncareful body will into the earth; I have warning more than now I\nwill say; therefore give me my rights.\" So when he was houseled\nand aneled, and had all that a Christian man ought to have, he\nprayed the hermit that his fellows might bear his body to Joyous\nGarde. (Some men say it was Alnwick, and some say it was\nBamborough.) \"It repenteth me sore,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"but I\nmade a vow aforetime that in Joyous Garde I would be buried.\" Then\nthere was weeping and wringing of hands among his fellows. And\nthat night Sir Launcelot died; and when Sir Bohort and his fellows\ncame to his bedside the next morning they found him stark dead;\nand he lay as if he had smiled, and the sweetest savor all about\nhim that ever they knew.\n\nAnd they put Sir Launcelot into the same horse-bier that Queen\nGuenever was laid in, and the hermit and they altogether went with\nthe body till they came to Joyous Garde. And there they laid his\ncorpse in the body of the quire, and sang and read many psalms and\nprayers over him. And ever his visage was laid open and naked,\nthat all folks might behold him. And right thus, as they were at\ntheir service, there came Sir Hector de Maris, that had seven\nyears sought Sir Launcelot, his brother, through all England,\nScotland and Wales. And when Sir Hector heard such sounds in the\nchapel of Joyous Garde he alighted and came into the quire. And\nall they knew Sir Hector. Then went Sir Bohort, and told him how\nthere lay Sir Launcelot, his brother, dead. Then Sir Hector threw\nhis shield, his sword, and helm from him. And when he beheld Sir\nLauncelot's visage it were hard for any tongue to tell the doleful\ncomplaints he made for his brother. \"Ah, Sir Launcelot!\" he said,\n\"there thou liest. And now I dare to say thou wert never matched\nof none earthly knight's hand. And thou wert the courteousest\nknight that ever bare shield; and thou wert the truest friend to\nthy lover that ever bestrode horse; and thou wert the truest\nlover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman; and thou wert the\nkindest man that ever struck with sword. And thou wert the\ngoodliest person that ever came among press of knights. And thou\nwert the meekest man, and the gentlest, that ever ate in hall\namong ladies. And thou wert the sternest knight to thy mortal foe\nthat ever put spear in the rest.\" Then there was weeping and dolor\nout of measure. Thus they kept Sir Launcelot's corpse fifteen\ndays, and then they buried it with great devotion.\n\nThen they went back with the hermit to his hermitage. And Sir\nBedivere was there ever still hermit to his life's end. And Sir\nBohort, Sir Hector, Sir Blamor, and Sir Bleoberis went into the\nHoly Land. And these four knights did many battles upon the\nmiscreants, the Turks; and there they died upon a Good Friday, as\nit pleased God.\n\nThus endeth this noble and joyous book, entitled \"La Morte\nd'Arthur;\" notwithstanding it treateth of the birth, life, and\nacts of the said King Arthur, and of his noble Knights of the\nRound Table, their marvellous enquests and adventures, the\nachieving of the Sangreal, and, in the end, le Morte d'Arthur,\nwith the dolorous death and departing out of this world of them\nall. Which book was reduced into English by Sir Thomas Mallory,\nKnight, and divided into twenty-one books, chaptered and imprinted\nand finished in the Abbey Westmestre, the last day of July, the\nyear of our Lord MCCCCLXXXV.\n\nCaxton me fieri fecit.\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MABINOGEON\n\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY NOTE\n\n\nIt has been well known to the literati and antiquarians of Europe\nthat there exist in the great public libraries voluminous\nmanuscripts of romances and tales once popular, but which on the\ninvention of printing had already become antiquated, and fallen\ninto neglect. They were therefore never printed, and seldom\nperused even by the learned, until about half a century ago, when\nattention was again directed to them, and they were found very\ncurious monuments of ancient manners, habits, and modes of\nthinking. Several have since been edited, some by individuals, as\nSir Walter Scott and the poet Southey, others by antiquarian\nsocieties. The class of readers which could be counted on for such\npublications was so small that no inducement of profit could be\nfound to tempt editors and publishers to give them to the world.\nIt was therefore only a few, and those the most accessible, which\nwere put in print. There was a class of manuscripts of this kind\nwhich were known, or rather suspected, to be both curious and\nvaluable, but which it seemed almost hopeless to expect ever to\nsee in fair printed English. These were the Welsh popular tales\ncalled Mabinogeon, a plural word, the singular being Mabinogi, a\ntale. Manuscripts of these were contained in the Bodleian Library\nat Oxford and elsewhere, but the difficulty was to find\ntranslators and editors. The Welsh is a spoken language among the\npeasantry of Wales, but is entirely neglected by the learned,\nunless they are natives of the principality. Of the few Welsh\nscholars none were found who took sufficient interest in this\nbranch of learning to give these productions to the English\npublic. Southey and Scott, and others, who like them, loved the\nold romantic legends of their country, often urged upon the Welsh\nliterati the duty of reproducing the Mabinogeon. Southey, in the\npreface of his edition of \"Moted'Arthur,\" says: \"The specimens\nwhich I have seen are exceedingly curious; nor is there a greater\ndesideratum in British literature than an edition of these tales,\nwith a literal version, and such comments as Mr. Davies of all men\nis best qualified to give. Certain it is that many of the round\ntable fictions originated in Wales, or in Bretagne, and probably\nmight still be traced there.\"\n\nAgain, in a letter to Sir Charles W. W. Wynn, dated 1819, he says:\n\n\"I begin almost to despair of ever seeing more of the Mabinogeon;\nand yet if some competent Welshman could be found to edit it\ncarefully, with as literal a version as possible, I am sure it\nmight be made worth his while by a subscription, printing a small\nedition at a high price, perhaps two hundred at five guineas. I\nmyself would gladly subscribe at that price per volume for such an\nedition of the whole of your genuine remains in prose and verse.\nTill some such collection is made, the 'gentlemen of Wales' ought\nto be prohibited from wearing a leek; ay, and interdicted from\ntoasted cheese also. Your bards would have met with better usage\nif they had been Scotchmen.\"\n\nSharon Turner and Sir Walter Scott also expressed a similar wish\nfor the publication of the Welsh manuscripts. The former took part\nin an attempt to effect it, through the instrumentality of a Mr.\nOwen, a Welshman, but, we judge, by what Southey says of him,\nimperfectly acquainted with English. Southey's language is\n\"William Owen lent me three parts of the Mabinogeon, delightfully\ntranslated into so Welsh an idiom and syntax that such a\ntranslation is as instructive as an original.\" In another letter\nhe adds, \"Let Sharon make his language grammatical, but not alter\ntheir idiom in the slightest point.\"\n\nIt is probable Mr. Owen did not proceed far in an undertaking\nwhich, so executed, could expect but little popular patronage. It\nwas not till an individual should appear possessed of the\nrequisite knowledge of the two languages, of enthusiasm sufficient\nfor the task, and of pecuniary resources sufficient to be\nindependent of the booksellers and of the reading public, that\nsuch a work could be confidently expected. Such an individual has,\nsince Southey's day and Scott's, appeared in the person of Lady\nCharlotte Guest, an English lady united to a gentleman of property\nin Wales, who, having acquired the language of the principality,\nand become enthusiastically fond of its literary treasures, has\ngiven them to the English reader, in a dress which the printer's\nand the engraver's arts have done their best to adorn. In four\nroyal octavo volumes containing the Welsh originals, the\ntranslation, and ample illustrations from French, German, and\nother contemporary and affiliated literature, the Mabinogeon is\nspread before us. To the antiquarian and the student of language\nand ethnology an invaluable treasure, it yet can hardly in such a\nform win its way to popular acquaintance. We claim no other merit\nthan that of bringing it to the knowledge of our readers, of\nabridging its details, of selecting its most attractive portions,\nand of faithfully preserving throughout the style in which Lady\nGuest has clothed her legends. For this service we hope that our\nreaders will confess we have laid them under no light obligation.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE BRITONS\n\n\nThe earliest inhabitants of Britain are supposed to have been a\nbranch of that great family known in history by the designation of\nCelts. Cambria, which is a frequent name for Wales, is thought to\nbe derived from Cymri, the name which the Welsh traditions apply\nto an immigrant people who entered the island from the adjacent\ncontinent. This name is thought to be identical with those of\nCimmerians and Cimbri, under which the Greek and Roman historians\ndescribe a barbarous people, who spread themselves from the north\nof the Euxine over the whole of Northwestern Europe.\n\nThe origin of the names Wales and Welsh has been much canvassed.\nSome writers make them a derivation from Gael or Gaul, which names\nare said to signify \"woodlanders;\" others observe that Walsh, in\nthe northern languages, signifies a stranger, and that the\naboriginal Britons were so called by those who at a later era\ninvaded the island and possessed the greater part of it, the\nSaxons and Angles.\n\nThe Romans held Britain from the invasion of Julius Caesar till\ntheir voluntary withdrawal from the island, A.D. 420,--that is,\nabout five hundred years. In that time there must have been a wide\ndiffusion of their arts and institutions among the natives. The\nremains of roads, cities, and fortifications show that they did\nmuch to develop and improve the country, while those of their\nvillas and castles prove that many of the settlers possessed\nwealth and taste for the ornamental arts. Yet the Roman sway was\nsustained chiefly by force, and never extended over the entire\nisland. The northern portion, now Scotland, remained independent,\nand the western portion, constituting Wales and Cornwall, was only\nnominally subjected.\n\nNeither did the later invading hordes succeed in subduing the\nremoter sections of the island. For ages after the arrival of the\nSaxons under Hengist and Horsa, A.D. 449, the whole western coast\nof Britain was possessed by the aboriginal inhabitants, engaged in\nconstant warfare with the invaders.\n\nIt has, therefore, been a favorite boast of the people of Wales\nand Cornwall that the original British stock flourishes in its\nunmixed purity only among them. We see this notion flashing out in\npoetry occasionally, as when Gray, in \"The Bard,\" prophetically\ndescribing Queen Elizabeth, who was of the Tudor, a Welsh race,\nsays:\n\n    \"Her eye proclaims her of the Briton line;\"\n\nand, contrasting the princes of the Tudor with those of the Norman\nrace, he exclaims:\n\n    \"All hail, ye genuine kings, Britannia's issue, hail!\"\n\nTHE WELSH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE\n\nThe Welsh language is one of the oldest in Europe. It possesses\npoems the origin of which is referred with probability to the\nsixth century. The language of some of these is so antiquated that\nthe best scholars differ about the interpretation of many\npassages; but, generally speaking, the body of poetry which the\nWelsh possess, from the year 1000 downwards, is intelligible to\nthose who are acquainted with the modern language.\n\nTill within the last half-century these compositions remained\nburied in the libraries of colleges or of individuals, and so\ndifficult of access that no successful attempt was made to give\nthem to the world. This reproach was removed after ineffectual\nappeals to the patriotism of the gentry of Wales, by Owen Jones, a\nfurrier of London, who at his own expense collected and published\nthe chief productions of Welsh literature, under the title of the\nMyvyrian Archaeology of Wales. In this task he was assisted by Dr.\nOwen and other Welsh scholars.\n\nAfter the cessation of Jones' exertions the old apathy returned,\nand continued till within a few years. Dr. Owen exerted himself to\nobtain support for the publication of the Mabinogeon or Prose\nTales of the Welsh, but died without accomplishing his purpose,\nwhich has since been carried into execution by Lady Charlotte\nGuest. The legends which fill the remainder of this volume are\ntaken from this work, of which we have already spoken more fully\nin the introductory chapter to the First Part.\n\nTHE WELSH BARDS\n\nThe authors to whom the oldest Welsh poems are attributed are\nAneurin, who is supposed to have lived A.D. 500 to 550, and\nTaliesin, Llywarch Hen (Llywarch the Aged), and Myrddin or Merlin,\nwho were a few years later. The authenticity of the poems which\nbear their names has been assailed, and it is still an open\nquestion how many and which of them are authentic, though it is\nhardly to be doubted that some are so. The poem of Aneurin\nentitled the \"Gododin\" bears very strong marks of authenticity.\nAneurin was one of the Northern Britons of Strath-Clyde, who have\nleft to that part of the district they inhabited the name of\nCumberland, or Land of the Cymri. In this poem he laments the\ndefeat of his countrymen by the Saxons at the battle of Cattraeth,\nin consequence of having partaken too freely of the mead before\njoining in combat. The bard himself and two of his fellow-warriors\nwere all who escaped from the field. A portion of this poem has\nbeen translated by Gray, of which the following is an extract:\n\n    \"To Cattraeth's vale, in glittering row,\n    Twice two hundred warriors go;\n    Every warrior's manly neck\n    Chains of regal honor deck,\n    Wreathed in many a golden link;\n    From the golden cup they drink\n    Nectar that the bees produce,\n    Or the grape's exalted juice.\n    Flushed with mirth and hope they burn,\n    But none to Cattraeth's vale return,\n    Save Aeron brave, and Conan strong,\n    Bursting through the bloody throng,\n    And I, the meanest of them all,\n    That live to weep, and sing their fall.\"\n\nThe works of Taliesin are of much more questionable authenticity.\nThere is a story of the adventures of Taliesin so strongly marked\nwith mythical traits as to cast suspicion on the writings\nattributed to him. This story will be found in the subsequent\npages.\n\nTHE TRIADS\n\nThe Triads are a peculiar species of poetical composition, of\nwhich the Welsh bards have left numerous examples. They are\nenumerations of a triad of persons, or events, or observations,\nstrung together in one short sentence. This form of composition,\noriginally invented, in all likelihood, to assist the memory, has\nbeen raised by the Welsh to a degree of elegance of which it\nhardly at first sight appears susceptible. The Triads are of all\nages, some of them probably as old as anything in the language.\nShort as they are individually, the collection in the Myvyrian\nArchaeology occupies more than one hundred and seventy pages of\ndouble columns. We will give some specimens, beginning with\npersonal triads, and giving the first place to one of King\nArthur's own composition:\n\n   \"I have three heroes in battle:\n    Mael the tall, and Llyr, with his army,\n    And Caradoc, the pillar of Wales.\"\n\n\"The three principal bards of the island of Britain:--\n  Merlin Ambrose\n  Merlin the son of Mprfyn, called also Merlin the Wild,\n  And Taliesin, the chief of the bards.\"\n\n\"The three golden-tongued knights of the court of Arthur:--\n  Gawain, son of Gwyar,\n  Drydvas, son of Tryphin,\n  And Ehwlod, son of Madag, ap Uther.\"\n\n\"The three honorable feasts of the island of Britain:--\nThe feast of Caswallaun, after repelling Julius Caesar from this\n    isle;\nThe feast of Aurelius Ambrosius, after he had conquered the\n    Saxons;\nAnd the feast of King Arthur, at Carleon upon Usk.\"\n\n    \"Guenever, the daughter of Laodegan the giant,\n     Bad when little, worse when great.\"\n\nNext follow some moral triads:\n\n    \"Hast thou heard what Dremhidydd sung,\n     An ancient watchman on the castle walls?\n     A refusal is better than a promise unperformed.\"\n\n    \"Hast thou heard what Llenleawg sung,\n     The noble chief wearing the golden torques?\n     The grave is better than a life of want.\"\n\n    \"Hast thou heard what Garselit sung,\n     The Irishman whom it is safe to follow?\n     Sin is bad, if long pursued.\"\n\n    \"Hast thou heard what Avaon sung,\n     The son of Taliesin, of the recording verse?\n     The cheek will not conceal the anguish of the heart.\"\n\n    \"Didst thou hear what Llywarch sung,\n     The intrepid and brave old man?\n     Greet kindly, though there be no acquaintance.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE LADY OF THE FOUNTAIN\n\nKYNON'S ADVENTURE\n\n\nKing Arthur was at Caerleon upon Usk; and one day he sat in his\nchamber, and with him were Owain, the son of Urien, and Kynon, the\nson of Clydno, and Kay, the son of Kyner, and Guenever and her\nhandmaidens at needlework by the window. In the centre of the\nchamher King Arthur sat, upon a seat of green rushes, [Footnote:\nThe use of green rushes in apartments was by no means peculiar to\nthe court of Carleon upon Usk. Our ancestors had a great\npredilection for them, and they seem to have constituted an\nessential article, not only of comfort, but of luxury. The custom\nof strewing the floor with rushes is well known to have existed in\nEngland during the Middle Ages, and also in France.] over which\nwas spread a covering of flame-covered satin, and a cushion of red\nsatin was under his elbow.\n\nThen Arthur spoke. \"If I thought you would not disparage me,\" said\nhe, \"I would sleep while I wait for my repast; and you can\nentertain one another with relating tales, and can obtain a flagon\nof mead and some meat from Kay.\" And the king went to sleep. And\nKynon the son of Clydno asked Kay for that which Arthur had\npromised them. \"I too will have the good tale which he promised\nme,\" said Kay. \"Nay,\" answered Kynon; \"fairer will it be for thee\nto fulfil Arthur's behest in the first place, and then we will\ntell thee the best tale that we know.\" So Kay went to the kitchen\nand to the mead-cellar, and returned, bearing a flagon of mead,\nand a golden goblet, and a handful of skewers, upon which were\nbroiled collops of meat. Then they ate the collops, and began to\ndrink the mead. \"Now,\" said Kay, \"it is time for you to give me my\nstory.\" \"Kynon,\" said Owain, \"do thou pay to Kay the tale that is\nhis due.\" \"I will do so,\" answered Kynon.\n\n\"I was the only son of my mother and father, and I was exceedingly\naspiring, and my daring was very great. I thought there was no\nenterprise in the world too mighty for me: and after I had\nachieved all the adventures that were in my own country, I\nequipped myself, and set forth to journey through deserts and\ndistant regions. And at length it chanced that I came to the\nfairest valley in the world, wherein were trees all of equal\ngrowth; and a river ran through the valley, and a path was by the\nside of the river. And I followed the path until midday, and\ncontinued my journey along the remainder of the valley until the\nevening; and at the extremity of the plain I came to a large and\nlustrous castle, at the foot of which was a torrent. And I\napproached the castle, and there I beheld two youths with yellow\ncurling hair, each with a frontlet of gold upon his head, and clad\nin a garment of yellow satin; and they had gold clasps upon their\ninsteps. In the hand of each of them was an ivory bow, strung with\nthe sinews of the stag, and their arrows and their shafts were of\nthe bone of the whale, and were winged with peacock's feathers.\nThe shafts also had golden heads. And they had daggers with blades\nof gold, and with hilts of the bone of the whale. And they were\nshooting at a mark.\n\n\"And a little away from them I saw a man in the prime of life,\nwith his beard newly shorn, clad in a robe and mantle of yellow\nsatin, and round the top of his mantle was a band of gold lace. On\nhis feet were shoes of variegated leather, [Footnote: Cordwal is\nthe word in the original, and from the manner in which it is used\nit is evidently intended for the French Cordouan or Cordovan\nleather, which derived its name from Cordova, where it was\nmanufactured. From this comes also our English word cordwainer.]\nfastened by two bosses of gold. When I saw him I went towards him\nand saluted him; and such was his courtesy, that he no sooner\nreceived my greeting than he returned it. And he went with me\ntowards the castle. Now there were no dwellers in the castle,\nexcept those who were in one hall. And there I saw four and twenty\ndamsels, embroidering satin at a window. And this I tell thee,\nKay, that the least fair of them was fairer than the fairest maid\nthou didst ever behold in the island of Britain; and the least\nlovely of them was more lovely than Guenever, the wife of Arthur,\nwhen she appeared loveliest, at the feast of Easter. They rose up\nat my coming, and six of them took my horse, and divested me of my\narmor, and six others took my arms and washed them in a vessel\ntill they were perfectly bright. And the third six spread cloths\nupon the tables and prepared meat. And the fourth six took off my\nsoiled garments and placed others upon me, namely, an under vest\nand a doublet of fine linen, and a robe and a surcoat, and a\nmantle of yellow satin, with a broad gold band upon the mantle.\nAnd they placed cushions both beneath and around me, with\ncoverings of red linen, and I sat down. Now the six maidens who\nhad taken my horse unharnessed him as well as if they had been the\nbest squires in the island of Britain.\n\n\"Then behold they brought bowls of silver, wherein was water to\nwash and towels of linen, some green and some white; and I washed.\nAnd in a little while the man sat down at the table. And I sat\nnext to him, and below me sat all the maidens, except those who\nwaited on us. And the table was of silver, and the cloths upon the\ntable were of linen. And no vessel was served upon the table that\nwas not either of gold or of silver or of buffalo horn. And our\nmeat was brought to us. And verily, Kay, I saw there every sort of\nmeat, and every sort of liquor that I ever saw elsewhere; but the\nmeat and the liquor were better served there than I ever saw them\nin any other place.\n\n\"Until the repast was half over, neither the man nor any one of\nthe damsels spoke a single word to me; but when the man perceived\nthat it would be more agreeable for me to converse than to eat any\nmore, he began to inquire of me who I was. Then I told the man who\nI was and what was the cause of my journey, and said that I was\nseeking whether any one was superior to me, or whether I could\ngain mastery over all. The man looked upon me, and he smiled and\nsaid, 'If I did not fear to do thee a mischief, I would show thee\nthat which thou seekest.' Then I desired him to speak freely. And\nhe said: 'Sleep here to-night, and in the morning arise early, and\ntake the road upwards through the valley, until thou readiest the\nwood. A little way within the wood thou wilt come to a large\nsheltered glade, with a mound in the centre. And thou wilt see a\nblack man of great stature on the top of the mound. He has but one\nfoot, and one eye in the middle of his forehead. He is the wood-\nward of that wood. And thou wilt see a thousand wild animals\ngrazing around him. Inquire of him the way out of the glade, and\nhe will reply to thee briefly, and will point out the road by\nwhich thou shalt find that which thou art in quest of.'\n\n\"And long seemed that night to me. And the next morning I arose\nand equipped myself, and mounted my horse, and proceeded straight\nthrough the valley to the wood, and at length I arrived at the\nglade. And the black man was there, sitting upon the top of the\nmound; and I was three times more astonished at the number of wild\nanimals that I beheld than the man had said I should be. Then I\ninquired of him the way and he asked me roughly whither I would\ngo. And when I had told him who I was and what I sought, 'Take,'\nsaid he, 'that path that leads toward the head of the glade, and\nthere thou wilt find an open space like to a large valley, and in\nthe midst of it a tall tree. Under this tree is a fountain, and by\nthe side of the fountain a marble slab, and on the marble slab a\nsilver bowl, attached by a chain of silver, that it may not be\ncarried away. Take, the bowl and throw a bowlful of water on the\nslab. And if thou dost not find trouble in that adventure, thou\nneedest not seek it during the rest of thy life.'\n\n\"So I journeyed on until I reached the summit of the steep. And\nthere I found everything as the black man had described it to me.\nAnd I went up to the tree, and beneath it I saw the fountain, and\nby its side the marble slab, and the silver bowl fastened by the\nchain. Then I took the bowl, and cast a bowlful of water upon the\nslab, and immediately I heard a mighty peal of thunder, so that\nheaven and earth seemed to tremble with its fury. And after the\nthunder came a, shower; and of a truth I tell thee, Kay, that it\nwas such a shower as neither man nor beast could endure and live.\nI turned my horse's flank toward the shower, and placed the beak\nof my shield over his head and neck, while I held the upper part\nof it over my own neck. And thus I withstood the shower. And\npresently the sky became clear, and with that, behold, the birds\nlighted upon the tree, and sang. And truly, Kay, I never heard any\nmelody equal to that, either before or since. And when I was most\ncharmed with listening to the birds, lo! a chiding voice was heard\nof one approaching me and saying: 'O knight, what has brought thee\nhither? What evil have I done to thee that thou shouldst act\ntowards me and my possessions as thou hast this day? Dost thou not\nknow that the shower to-day has left in my dominions neither man\nnor beast alive that was exposed to it?' And thereupon, behold, a\nknight on a black horse appeared, clothed in jet-black velvet, and\nwith a tabard of black linen about him. And we charged each other,\nand, as the onset was furious, it was not long before I was\noverthrown. Then the knight passed the shaft of his lance through\nthe bridle-rein of my horse, and rode off with the two horses,\nleaving me where I was. And he did not even bestow so much notice\nupon me as to imprison me, nor did he despoil me of my arms. So I\nreturned along the road by which I had come. And when I reached\nthe glade where the black man was, I confess to thee, Kay, it is a\nmarvel that I did not melt down into a liquid pool, through the\nshame that I felt at the black man's derision. And that night I\ncame to the same castle where I had spent the night preceding. And\nI was more agreeably entertained that night than I had been the\nnight before. And I conversed freely with the inmates of the\ncastle; and none of them alluded to my expedition to the fountain,\nneither did I mention it to any. And I remained there that night.\nWhen I arose on the morrow I found ready saddled a dark bay\npalfrey, with nostrils as red as scarlet. And after putting on my\narmor, and leaving there my blessing, I returned to my own court.\nAnd that horse I still possess, and he is in the stable yonder.\nAnd I declare that I would not part with him for the best palfrey\nin the island of Britain.\n\n\"Now, of a truth, Kay, no man ever before confessed to an\nadventure so much to his own discredit; and verily it seems\nstrange to me that neither before nor since have I heard of any\nperson who knew of this adventure, and that the subject of it\nshould exist within King Arthur's dominions without any other\nperson lighting upon it.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE LADY OF THE FOUNTAIN (Continued)\n\nOWAIN'S ADVENTURE\n\n\n[Footnote: Amongst all the characters of early British history\nnone is the more interesting, or occupies more conspicuous place,\nthan the hero of this tale. Urien, his father, was prince of\nRheged, a district comprising the present Cumberland and part of\nthe adjacent country. His valor, and the consideration in which he\nwas held, are a frequent theme of Bardic song, and form the\nsubject of several very spirited odes by Taliesin. Among the\nTriads there is one relating to him; it is thus translated:\n\n\"Three Knights of Battle were in court of Arthur Cadwr, the Earl\nof Cornwall, Launcelot du Lac, and Owain, the son of Urien. And\nthis was their characteristic--that they would not retreat from\nbattle, neither for spear, nor for arrow, nor for sword. And\nArthur never had shame in battle the day he saw their faces there.\nAnd they were called the Knights of Battle.\"]\n\n\"Now,\" quoth Owain, \"would it not be well to go and endeavor to\ndiscover that place?\"\n\n\"By the hand of my friend,\" said Kay, \"often dost thou utter that\nwith thy tongue which thou wouldest not make good with thy deeds.\"\n\n\"In very truth,\" said Guenever, \"it were better thou wert hanged,\nKay, than to use such uncourteous speech towards a man like\nOwain.\"\n\n\"By the hand of my friend, good lady,\" said Kay, \"thy praise of\nOwain is not greater than mine.\"\n\nWith that Arthur awoke, and asked if he had not been sleeping a\nlittle.\n\n\"Yes, lord,\" answered Owain, \"thou hast slept awhile.\"\n\n\"Is it time for us to go to meat?\"\n\n\"It is, lord,\" said Owain.\n\nThen the horn for washing was sounded, and the king and all his\nhousehold sat down to eat. And when the meal was ended Owain\nwithdrew to his lodging, and made ready his horse and his arms.\n\nOn the morrow with the dawn of day he put on his armor, and\nmounted his charger, and travelled through distant lands, and over\ndesert mountains. And at length he arrived at the valley which\nKynon had described to him, and he was certain that it was the\nsame that he sought. And journeying along the valley, by the side\nof the river, he followed its course till he came to the plain,\nand within sight of the castle. When he approached the castle he\nsaw the youths shooting with their bows, in the place where Kynon\nhad seen them, and the yellow man, to whom the castle belonged,\nstanding hard by. And no sooner had Owain saluted the yellow man,\nthan he was saluted by him in return.\n\nAnd he went forward towards the castle, and there he saw the\nchamber; and when he had entered the chamber, he beheld the\nmaidens working at satin embroidery, in chains of gold. And their\nbeauty and their comeliness seemed to Owain far greater than Kynon\nhad represented to him. And they arose to wait upon Owain, as they\nhad done to Kynon. And the meal which they set before him gave\neven more satisfaction to Owain than it had done to Kynon.\n\nAbout the middle of the repast the yellow man asked Owain the\nobject of his journey. And Owain made it known to him, and said,\n\"I am in quest of the knight who guards the fountain.\" Upon this\nthe yellow man smiled, and said that he was as loth to point out\nthat adventure to him as he had been to Kynon. However, he\ndescribed the whole to Owain, and they retired to rest.\n\nThe next morning Owain found his horse made ready for him by the\ndamsels, and he set forward and came to the glade where the black\nman was. And the stature of the black man seemed more wonderful to\nOwain than it had done to Kynon; and Owain asked of him his road,\nand he showed it to him. And Owain followed the road till he came\nto the green tree; and he beheld the fountain, and the slab beside\nthe fountain, with the bowl upon it. And Owain took the bowl and\nthrew a bowlful of water upon the slab. And, lo! the thunder was\nheard, and after the thunder came the shower, more violent than\nKynon had described, and after the shower the sky became bright.\nAnd immediately the birds came and settled upon the tree and sang.\nAnd when their song was most pleasing to Owain he beheld a knight\ncoming towards him through the valley; and he prepared to receive\nhim, and encountered him violently. Having broken both their\nlances, they drew their swords and fought blade to blade. Then\nOwain struck the knight a blow through his helmet, head-piece, and\nvisor, and through the skin, and the flesh, and the bone, until it\nwounded the very brain. Then the black knight felt that he had\nreceived a mortal wound, upon which he turned his horse's head and\nfled. And Owain pursued him and followed close upon him, although\nhe was not near enough to strike him with his sword. Then Owain\ndescried a vast and resplendent castle; and they came to the\ncastle gate. And the black knight was allowed to enter, and the\nportcullis was let fall upon Owain; and it struck his horse behind\nthe saddle, and cut him in two, and carried away the rowels of the\nspurs that were upon Owains' heels. And the portcullis descended\nto the floor. And the rowels of the spurs and part of the horse\nwere without, and Owain with the other part of the horse remained\nbetween the two gates, and the inner gate was closed, so that\nOwain could not go thence; and Owain was in a perplexing\nsituation. And while he was in this state, he could see through an\naperture in the gate a street facing him, with a row of houses on\neach side. And he beheld a maiden, with yellow, curling hair, and\na frontlet of gold upon her head; and she was clad in a dress of\nyellow satin, and on her feet were shoes of variegated leather.\nAnd she approached the gate, and desired that it should be opened.\n\"Heaven knows, lady,\" said Owain, \"it is no more possible for me\nto open to thee from hence, than it is for thee to set me free.\"\nAnd he told her his name, and who he was. \"Truly,\" said the\ndamsel, \"it is very sad that thou canst not be released; and every\nwoman ought to succor thee, for I know there is no one more\nfaithful in the service of ladies than thou. Therefore,\" quoth\nshe, \"whatever is in my power to do for thy release, I will do it.\nTake this ring and put it on thy finger, with the stone inside thy\nhand, and close thy hand upon the stone. And as long as thou\nconcealest it, it will conceal thee. When they come forth to fetch\nthee, they will be much grieved that they cannot find thee. And I\nwill await thee on the horseblock yonder, and thou wilt be able to\nsee me, though I cannot see thee. Therefore come and place thy\nhand upon my shoulder, that I may know that thou art near me. And\nby the way that I go hence do thou accompany me.\"\n\nThen the maiden went away from Owain, and he did all that she had\ntold him. And the people of the castle came to seek Owain to put\nhim to death; and when they found nothing but the half of his\nhorse, they were sorely grieved.\n\nAnd Owain vanished from among them, and went to the maiden, and\nplaced his hand upon her shoulder; whereupon she set off, and\nOwain followed her, until they came to the door of a large and\nbeautiful chamber, and the maiden opened it, and they went in. And\nOwain looked around the chamber, and behold there was not a single\nnail in it that was not painted with gorgeous colors, and there\nwas not a single panel that had not sundry images in gold\nportrayed upon it.\n\nThe maiden kindled a fire, and took water in a silver bowl, and\ngave Owain water to wash. Then she placed before him a silver\ntable, inlaid with gold; upon which was a cloth of yellow linen,\nand she brought him food. And, of a truth, Owain never saw any\nkind of meat that was not there in abundance, but it was better\ncooked there than he had ever found it in any other place. And\nthere was not one vessel from which he was served that was not of\ngold or of silver. And Owain eat and drank until late in the\nafternoon, when lo! they heard a mighty clamor in the castle, and\nOwain asked the maiden what it was. \"They are administering\nextreme unction,\" said she, \"to the nobleman who owns the castle.\"\nAnd she prepared a couch for Owain which was meet for Arthur\nhimself, and Owain went to sleep.\n\nAnd a little after daybreak he heard an exceeding loud clamor and\nwailing, and he asked the maiden what was the cause of it. \"They\nare bearing to the church the body of the nobleman who owned the\ncastle.\"\n\nAnd Owain rose up, and clothed himself, and opened a window of the\nchamber, and looked towards the castle; and he could see neither\nthe bounds nor the extent of the hosts that filled the streets.\nAnd they were fully armed; and a vast number of women were with\nthem, both on horseback and on foot, and all the ecclesiastics in\nthe city singing. In the midst of the throng he beheld the bier,\nover which was a veil of white linen; and wax tapers were burning\nbeside and around it; and none that supported the bier was lower\nin rank than a powerful baron.\n\nNever did Owain see an assemblage so gorgeous with silk [Footnote:\nBefore the sixth century all the silk used by Europeans had been\nbrought to them by the Seres, the ancestors of the present\nBoukharians, whence it derived its Latin name of Serica. In 551\nthe silkworm was brought by two monks to Constantinople, but the\nmanufacture of silk was confined to the Greek empire till the year\n1130, when Roger, king of Sicily, returning from a crusade,\ncollected some manufacturers from Athens and Corinth, and\nestablished them at Palermo, whence the trade was gradually\ndisseminated over Italy. The varieties of silk stuffs known at\nthis time were velvet, satin (which was called samite), and\ntaffety (called cendal or sendall), all of which were occasionally\nstitched with gold and silver.] and satin. And, following the\ntrain, he beheld a lady with yellow hair falling over her\nshoulders, and stained with blood; and about her a dress of yellow\nsatin, which was torn. Upon her feet were shoes of variegated\nleather. And it was a marvel that the ends of her fingers were not\nbruised from the violence with which she smote her hands together.\nTruly she would have been the fairest lady Owain ever saw, had she\nbeen in her usual guise. And her cry was louder than the shout of\nthe men or the clamor of the trumpets. No sooner had he beheld the\nlady than he became inflamed with her love, so that it took entire\npossession of him.\n\nThen he inquired of the maiden who the lady was. \"Heaven knows,\"\nreplied the maiden, \"she is the fairest and the most chaste, and\nthe most liberal, and the most noble of women. She is my mistress,\nand she is called the Countess of the Fountain, the wife of him\nwhom thou didst slay yesterday.\" \"Verily,\" said Owain, \"she is the\nwoman that I love best.\" \"Verily,\" said the maiden, \"she shall\nalso love thee, not a little.\"\n\nThen the maiden prepared a repast for Owain, and truly he thought\nhe had never before so good a meal, nor was he ever so well\nserved. Then she left him, and went towards the castle. When she\ncame there, she found nothing but mourning and sorrow; and the\nCountess in her chamber could not bear the sight of any one\nthrough grief. Luned, for that was the name of the maiden, saluted\nher, but the Countess answered her not. And the maiden bent down\ntowards her, and said, \"What aileth thee, that thou answereth no\none to-day?\" \"Luned,\" said the Countess, \"what change hath\nbefallen thee, that thou hast not come to visit me in my grief. It\nwas wrong in thee, and I so sorely afflicted.\" \"Truly,\" said\nLuned, \"I thought thy good sense was greater than I find it to be.\nIs it well for thee to mourn after that good man, or for anything\nelse that thou canst not have?\" \"I declare to Heaven,\" said the\nCountess, \"that in the whole world there is not a man equal to\nhim.\" \"Not so,\" said Luned, \"for an ugly man would be as good as\nor better than he.\" \"I declare to Heaven,\" said the Countess,\n\"that were it not repugnant to me to put to death one whom I have\nbrought up, I would have thee executed for making such a\ncomparison to me. As it is, I will banish thee.\" \"I am glad,\" said\nLuned, \"that thou hast no other cause to do so than that I would\nhave been of service to thee, where thou didst not know what was\nto thine advantage. Henceforth, evil betide whichever of us shall\nmake the first advance towards reconciliation to the other,\nwhether I should seek an invitation from thee, or thou of thine\nown accord should send to invite.\"\n\nWith that Luned went forth; and the Countess arose and followed\nher to the door of the chamber, and began coughing loudly. And\nwhen Luned looked back, the Countess beckoned to her, and she\nreturned to the Countess. \"In truth,\" said the Countess, \"evil is\nthy disposition; but if thou knowest what is to my advantage,\ndeclare it to me.\" \"I will do so,\" said she.\n\n\"Thou knowest that, except by warfare and arms, it is impossible\nfor thee to preserve thy possessions; delay not, therefore, to\nseek some one who can defend them.\" \"And how can I do that?\" said\nthe Countess. \"I will tell thee,\" said Luned; \"unless thou canst\ndefend the fountain, thou canst not maintain thy dominions; and no\none can defend the fountain except it be a knight of Arthur's\nhousehold. I will go to Arthur's court, and ill betide me if I\nreturn not thence with a warrior who can guard the fountain as\nwell as, or even better than, he who defended it formerly.\" \"That\nwill be hard to perform,\" said the Countess. \"Go, however, and\nmake proof of that which thou hast promised,\"\n\nLuned set out under the pretence of going to Arthur's court; but\nshe went back to the mansion where she had left Owain, and she\ntarried there as long as it might have taken her to travel to the\ncourt of King Arthur and back. And at the end of that time she\napparelled herself, and went to visit the Countess. And the\nCountess was much rejoiced when she saw her, and inquired what\nnews she brought from the court. \"I bring thee the best of news,\"\nsaid Luned, \"for I have compassed the object of my mission. When\nwilt thou that I should present to thee the chieftain who has come\nwith me hither?\" \"Bring him here to visit me to-morrow,\" said the\nCountess, \"and I will cause the town to be assembled by that\ntime.\"\n\nAnd Luned returned home. And the next day at noon, Owain arrayed\nhimself in a coat and a surcoat, and a mantle of yellow satin,\nupon which was a broad band of gold lace; and on his feet were\nhigh shoes of variegated leather, which were fastened by golden\nclasps, in the form of lions. And they proceeded to the chamber of\nthe Countess.\n\nRight glad was the Countess of their coming. And she gazed\nsteadfastly upon Owain, and said, \"Luned, this knight has not the\nlook of a traveller.\" \"What harm is there in that, lady?\" said\nLuned. \"I am certain,\" said the Countess, \"that no other man than\nthis chased the soul from the body of my lord.\" \"So much the\nbetter for thee, lady,\" said Luned, \"for had he not been stronger\nthan thy lord, he could not have deprived him of life. There is no\nremedy for that which is past, be it as it may.\" \"Go back to thine\nabode,\" said the Countess, \"and I will take counsel.\"\n\nThe next day the Countess caused all her subjects to assemble, and\nshowed them that her earldom was left defenceless, and that it\ncould not be protected but with horse and arms, and military\nskill. \"Therefore,\" said she, \"this is what I offer for your\nchoice: either let one of you take me, or give your consent for me\nto take a husband from elsewhere, to defend my dominions.\"\n\nSo they came to the determination that it was better that she\nshould have permission to marry some one from elsewhere; and\nthereupon she sent for the bishops and archbishops, to celebrate\nher nuptials with Owain. And the men of the earldom did Owain\nhomage.\n\nAnd Owain defended the fountain with lance and sword. And this is\nthe manner in which he defended it. Whensoever a knight came\nthere, he overthrew him, and sold him for his full worth. And what\nhe thus gained he divided among his barons and his knights, and no\nman in the whole world could be more beloved than he was by his\nsubjects. And it was thus for the space of three years.\n\n[Footnote: There exists an ancient poem, printed among those of\nTaliesin, called the \"Elegy of Owain ap Urien,\" and containing\nseveral very beautiful and spirited passages It commences\n\n   \"The soul of Owain ap Urien,\n   May its Lord consider its exigencies'\n   Reged's chief the green turf covers.\"\n\nIn the course of this Elegy the bard, alluding to the incessant\nwarfare with which this chieftain harassed his Saxon foes,\nexclaims,\n\n\"Could England sleep with the light upon her eyes'\"]\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE LADY OF THE FOUNTAIN (Continued)\n\nGAWAIN'S ADVENTURE\n\n\nIt befell that, as Gawain went forth one day with King Arthur, he\nperceived him to be very sad and sorrowful. And Gawain was much\ngrieved to see Arthur in his state, and he questioned him, saying,\n\"O my lord, what has befallen thee?\" \"In sooth, Gawain,\" said\nArthur, \"I am grieved concerning Owain, whom I have lost these\nthree years; and I shall certainly die if the fourth year pass\nwithout my seeing him. Now I am sure that it is through the tale\nwhich Kynon, the son of Clydno, related, that I have lost Owain.\"\n\"There is no need for thee,\" said Gawain, \"to summon to arms thy\nwhole dominions on this account, for thou thyself, and the men of\nthy household, will be able to avenge Owain if he be slain or to\nset him free if he be in prison; and, if alive, to bring him back\nwith thee.\" And it was settled according to what Gawain had said.\n\nThen Arthur and the men of his household prepared to go and seek\nOwain. And Kynon, the son of Clydno, acted as their guide. And\nArthur came to the castle where Kynon had been before. And when he\ncame there, the youths were shooting in the same place, and the\nyellow man was standing hard by. When the yellow man saw Arthur,\nhe greeted him, and invited him to the castle. And Arthur accepted\nhis invitation, and they entered the castle together. And great as\nwas the number of his retinue, their presence was scarcely\nobserved in the castle, so vast was its extent. And the maidens\nrose up to wait on them. And the service of the maidens appeared\nto them all to excel any attendance they had ever met with; and\neven the pages, who had charge of the horses, were no worse served\nthat night than Arthur himself would have been in his own palace.\n\nThe next morning Arthur set out thence, with Kynon for his guide,\nand came to the place where the black man was. And the stature of\nthe black man was more surprising to Arthur than it had been\nrepresented to him. And they came to the top of the wooded steep,\nand traversed the valley, till they reached the green tree, where\nthey saw the fountain and the bowl and the slab. And upon that Kay\ncame to Arthur, and spoke to him. \"My lord,\" said he, \"I know the\nmeaning of all this, and my request is that thou wilt permit me to\nthrow the water on the slab, and to receive the first adventure\nthat may befall.\" And Arthur gave him leave.\n\nThen Kay threw a bowlful of water upon the slab, and immediately\nthere came the thunder, and after the thunder the shower. And such\na thunder-storm they had never known before. After the shower had\nceased, the sky became clear, and on looking at the tree, they\nbeheld it completely leafless. Then the birds descended upon the\ntree. And the song of the birds was far sweeter than any strain\nthey had ever heard before. Then they beheld a knight, on a coal-\nblack horse, clothed in black satin, coming rapidly towards them.\nAnd Kay met him and encountered him, and it was not long before\nKay was overthrown. And the knight withdrew. And Arthur and his\nhost encamped for the night.\n\nAnd when they arose in the morning, they perceived the signal of\ncombat upon the lance of the knight. Then, one by one, all the\nhousehold of Arthur went forth to combat the knight, until there\nwas not one that was not overthrown by him, except Arthur and\nGawain. And Arthur armed himself to encounter the knight. \"O my\nlord,\" said Gawain, \"permit me to fight with him first.\" And\nArthur permitted him. And he went forth to meet the knight, having\nover himself and his horse a satin robe of honor, which had been\nsent him by the daughter of the Earl of Rhangyr, and in this dress\nhe was not known by any of the host. And they charged each other,\nand fought all that day until the evening. And neither of them was\nable to unhorse the other. And so it was the next day; they broke\ntheir lances in the shock, but neither of them could obtain the\nmastery.\n\nAnd the third day they fought with exceeding strong lances. And\nthey were incensed with rage, and fought furiously, even until\nnoon. And they gave each other such a shock that the girths of\ntheir horses were broken, so that they fell over their horses'\ncruppers to the ground. And they rose up speedily and drew their\nswords, and resumed the combat. And all they that witnessed their\nencounter felt assured that they had never before seen two men so\nvaliant or so powerful. And had it been midnight, it would have\nbeen light, from the fire that flashed from their weapons. And the\nknight gave Gawain a blow that turned his helmet from off his\nface, so that the knight saw that it was Gawain. Then Owain said,\n\"My lord Gawain, I did not know thee for my cousin, owing to the\nrobe of honor that enveloped thee; take my sword and my arms.\"\nSaid Gawain, \"Thou, Owain, art the victor; take thou my sword.\"\nAnd with that Arthur saw that they were conversing, and advanced\ntoward them. \"My lord Arthur,\" said Gawain, \"here is Owain who has\nvanquished me, and will not take my arms.\" \"My lord,\" said Owain,\n\"it is he that has vanquished me, and he will not take my sword.\"\n\"Give me your swords,\" said Arthur, \"and then neither of you has\nvanquished the other.\" Then Owain put his arms around Arthur's\nneck, and they embraced. And all the host hurried forward to see\nOwain, and to embrace him. And there was nigh being a loss of\nlife, so great was the press.\n\nAnd they retired that night, and the next day Arthur prepared to\ndepart. \"My lord,\" said Owain, \"this is not well of thee. For I\nhave been absent from thee these three years, and during all that\ntime, up to this very day, I have been preparing a banquet for\nthee, knowing that thou wouldst come to seek me. Tarry with me,\ntherefore, until thou and thy attendants have recovered the\nfatigues of the journey, and have been anointed.\"\n\nAnd they all proceeded to the castle of the Countess of the\nFountain, and the banquet which had been three years preparing was\nconsumed in three months. Never had they a more delicious or\nagreeable banquet. And Arthur prepared to depart. Then he sent an\nembassy to the Countess to beseech her to permit Owain to go with\nhim, for the space of three months, that he might show him to the\nnobles and the fair dames of the island of Britain. And the\nCountess gave her consent, although it was very painful to her. So\nOwain came with Arthur to the island of Britain. And when he was\nonce more amongst his kindred and friends, he remained three\nyears, instead of three months, with them.\n\nTHE ADVENTURE OF THE LION\n\nAnd as Owain one day sat at meat, in the city of Caerleon upon\nUsk, behold a damsel entered the hall, upon a bay horse, with a\ncurling mane, and covered with foam; and the bridle, and as much\nas was seen of the saddle, were of gold. And the damsel was\narrayed in a dress of yellow satin. And she came up to Owain, and\ntook the ring from off his hand. \"Thus,\" said she, \"shall be\ntreated the deceiver, the traitor, the faithless, the disgraced,\nand the beardless.\" And she turned her horse's head and departed.\n\n[Footnote: The custom of riding into a hall while the lord and his\nguests sat at meat might be illustrated by numerous passages of\nancient romance and history. But a quotation from Chaucer's\nbeautiful and half-told tale of \"Cambuscan\" is sufficient:\n\n    \"And so befell that after the thridde cours,\n    While that this king sat thus in his nobley,\n    Herking his minstralles thir thinges play,\n    Beforne him at his bord deliciously,\n    In at the halle door all sodenly\n    Ther came a knight upon a stede of bras,\n    And in his hond a brod mirrour of glas;\n    Upon his thombe he had of gold a ring,\n    And by his side a naked sword hanging;\n    And up he rideth to the highe bord.\n    In all the halle ne was ther spoke a word,\n    For meryaille of this knight; him to behold\n    Full besily they waiten, young and old.\"]\n\nThen his adventure came to Owain's remembrance, and he was\nsorrowful. And having finished eating, he went to his own abode,\nand made preparations that night. And the next day he arose, but\ndid not go to the court, nor did he return to the Countess of the\nFountain, but wandered to the distant parts of the earth and to\nuncultivated mountains. And he remained there until all his\napparel was worn out, and his body was wasted away, and his hair\nwas grown long. And he went about with the wild beasts, and fed\nwith them, until they became familiar with him. But at length he\nbecame so weak that he could no longer bear them company. Then he\ndescended from the mountains to the valley, and came to a park,\nthat was the fairest in the world, and belonged to a charitable\nlady.\n\nOne day the lady and her attendants went forth to walk by a lake\nthat was in the middle of the park. And they saw the form of a\nman, lying as if dead. And they were terrified. Nevertheless they\nwent near him, and touched him, and they saw that there was life\nin him. And the lady returned to the castle, and took a flask full\nof precious ointment and gave it to one of her maidens. \"Go with\nthis,\" said she, \"and take with thee yonder horse, and clothing,\nand place them near the man we saw just now; and anoint him with\nthis balsam near his heart; and if there is life in him, he will\nrevive, through the efficiency of this balsam. Then watch what he\nwill do.\"\n\nAnd the maiden departed from her, and went and poured of the\nbalsam upon Owain, and left the horse and the garments hard by,\nand went a little way off and hid herself to watch him. In a short\ntime, she saw him begin to move; and he rose up, and looked at his\nperson, and became ashamed of the unseemliness of his appearance.\nThen he perceived the horse and the garments that were near him.\nAnd he clothed himself, and with difficulty mounted the horse.\nThen the damsel discovered herself to him, and saluted him. And he\nand the maiden proceeded to the castle, and the maiden conducted\nhim to a pleasant chamber, and kindled a fire, and left him.\n\nAnd he stayed at the castle three months, till he was restored to\nhis former guise, and became even more comely than he had ever\nbeen before. And Owain rendered signal service to the lady, in a\ncontroversy with a powerful neighbor, so that he made ample\nrequital to her for her hospitality; and he took his departure.\n\nAnd as he journeyed he heard a loud yelling in a wood. And it was\nrepeated a second and a third time. And Owain went towards the\nspot, and beheld a huge craggy mound, in the middle of the wood,\non the side of which was a gray rock. And there was a cleft in the\nrock, and a serpent was within the cleft. And near the rock stood\na black lion, and every time the lion sought to go thence the\nserpent darted towards him to attack him. And Owain unsheathed his\nsword, and drew near to the rock; and as the serpent sprung out he\nstruck him with his sword and cut him in two. And he dried his\nsword, and went on his way as before. But behold the lion followed\nhim, and played about him, as though it had been a greyhound that\nhe had reared.\n\nThey proceeded thus throughout the day, until the evening. And\nwhen it was time for Owain to take his rest he dismounted, and\nturned his horse loose in a flat and wooded meadow. And he struck\nfire, and when the fire was kindled, the lion brought him fuel\nenough to last for three nights. And the lion disappeared. And\npresently the lion returned, bearing a fine large roebuck. And he\nthrew it down before Owain, who went towards the fire with it.\n\nAnd Owain took the roebuck, and skinned it, and placed collops of\nits flesh upon skewers round the fire. The rest of the buck he\ngave to the lion to devour. While he was so employed, he heard a\ndeep groan near him, and a second, and a third. And the place\nwhence the groans proceeded was a cave in the rock; and Owain went\nnear, and called out to know who it was that groaned so piteously.\nAnd a voice answered, \"I am Luned, the hand-maiden of the Countess\nof the Fountain.\" \"And what dost thou here?\" said he. \"I am\nimprisoned,\" said she, \"on account of the knight who came from\nArthur's court, and married the Countess. And he staid a short\ntime with her, but he afterwards departed for the court of Arthur,\nand has not returned since. And two of the Countess's pages\ntraduced him, and called him a deceiver. And because I said I\nwould vouch for it he would come before long and maintain his\ncause against both of them, they imprisoned me in this cave, and\nsaid that I should be put to death, unless he came to deliver me,\nby a certain day; and that is no further off than to-morrow, and I\nhave no one to send to seek him for me. His name is Owain, the son\nof Urien.\" \"And art thou certain that if that knight knew all\nthis, he would come to thy rescue?\" \"I am most certain of it,\"\nsaid she.\n\nWhen the collops were cooked, Owain divided them into two parts,\nbetween himself and the maiden, and then Owain laid himself down\nto sleep; and never did sentinel keep stricter watch over his lord\nthan the lion that night over Owain.\n\nAnd the next day there came the two pages with a great troop of\nattendants to take Luned from her cell, and put her to death. And\nOwain asked them what charge they had against her. And they told\nhim of the compact that was between them; as the maiden had done\nthe night before. \"And,\" said they, \"Owain has failed her,\ntherefore we are taking her to be burnt.\" \"Truly,\" said Owain, \"he\nis a good knight; and if he knew that the maiden was in such\nperil, I marvel that he came not to her rescue. But if you will\naccept me in his stead, I will do battle with you.\" \"We will,\"\nsaid the youth.\n\nAnd they attacked Owain, and he was hard beset by them. And with\nthat, the lion came to Owain's assistance, and they two got the\nbetter of the young men And they said to him, \"Chieftain, it was\nnot agreed that we should fight save with thyself alone, and it is\nharder for us to contend with yonder animal than with thee.\" And\nOwain put the lion in the place where Luned had been imprisoned,\nand blocked up the door with stones. And he went to fight with the\nyoung men as before. But Owain had not his usual strength, and the\ntwo youths pressed hard upon him. And the lion roared incessantly\nat seeing Owain in trouble. And he brust through the wall, until\nhe found a way out, and rushed upon the young men and instantly\nslew them. So Luned was saved from being burned.\n\nThen Owain returned with Luned to the castle of the Lady of the\nFountain. And when he went thence, he took the Countess with him\nto Arthur's court, and she was his wife as long as she lived.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nGERAINT, THE SON OF ERBIN\n\n\nArthur was accustomed to hold his court at Caerleon upon Usk. And\nthere he held it seven Easters and five Christmases. And once upon\na time he held his court there at Whitsuntide. For Caerleon was\nthe place most easy of access in his dominions, both by sea and by\nland. And there were assembled nine crowned kings, who were his\ntributaries, and likewise earls and barons. For they were his\ninvited guests at all the high festivals, unless they were\nprevented by any great hinderatice. And when he was at Caerleon\nholding his court, thirteen churches were set apart for mass. And\nthus they were appointed: one church for Arthur and his kings, and\nhis guests; and the second for Guenever and her ladies; and the\nthird for the steward of the household and the suitors; and the\nfourth for the Franks and the other officers; and the other nine\nchurches were for the nine masters of the household, and chiefly\nfor Gawain, for he, from the eminence of his warlike fame, and\nfrom the nobleness of his birth, was the most exalted of the nine.\nAnd there was no other arrangement respecting the churches than\nthat which we have here mentioned.\n\nAnd on Whit-Tuesday, as the king sat at the banquet, lo, there\nentered a tall, fair-headed youth, clad in a coat and surcoat of\nsatin, and a golden-hilted sword about his neck, and low shoes of\nleather upon his feet. And he came and stood before Arthur. \"Hail\nto thee, lord,\" said he. \"Heaven prosper thee,\" he answered, \"and\nbe thou welcome. Dost thou bring any new tidings?\" \"I do, lord,\"\nhe said. \"I am one of thy foresters, lord, in the forest of Dean,\nand my name is Madoc, son of Turgadarn. In the forest I saw a\nstag, the like of which beheld I never yet.\" \"What is there about\nhim,\" asked Arthur, \"that thou never yet didst see his like?\" \"He\nis of pure white, lord, and he does not herd with any other\nanimal, through stateliness and pride, so royal is his bearing.\nAnd I come to seek thy counsel, lord, and to know thy will\nconcerning him.\" \"It seems best to me,\" said Arthur, \"to go and\nhunt him to-morrow at break of day, and to cause general notice\nthereof to be given to-night, in all quarters of the court.\"\n\n   \"For Arthur on the Whitsuntide before\n   Held court at old Caerleon upon Usk.\n   There on a day, he sitting high in hall,\n   Before him came a forester of Dean,\n   Wet from the woods, with notice of a hart\n\n   Taller than all his fellows, milky-white,\n   First seen that day: these things he told the king.\n   Then the good king gave order to let blow\n   His horns for hunting on the morrow morn.\"\n\n    --Enid.\n\nAnd Arryfuerys was Arthur's chief huntsman, and Arelivri his chief\npage. And all received notice; and thus it was arranged.\n\nThen Guenever said to Arthur, \"Wilt thou permit me, lord, to go\nto-morrow to see and hear the hunt of the stag of which the young\nman spoke?\" \"I will gladly,\" said Arthur. And Gawain said to\nArthur, \"Lord, if it seem well to thee, permit that into whose\nhunt soever the stag shall come, that one, be he a knight or one\non foot, may cut off his head, and give it to whom he pleases,\nwhether to his own lady-love, or to the lady of his friend.\" \"I\ngrant it gladly,\" said Arthur, \"and let the steward of the\nhousehold be chastised, if all things are not ready to-morrow for\nthe chase.\"\n\nAnd they passed the night with songs, and diversions, and\ndiscourse, and ample entertainment. And when it was time for them\nall to go to sleep, they went. And when the next day came, they\narose. And Arthur called the attendants who guarded his couch. And\nthere were four pages whose names were Cadyrnerth, the son of\nGandwy, and Ambreu, the son of Bedwor and Amhar, the son of Arthur\nand Goreu, the son of Custennin. And these men came to Arthur and\nsaluted him, and arrayed him in his garments. And Arthur wondered\nthat Guenever did not awake, and the attendants wished to awaken\nher. \"Disturb her not,\" said Arthur, \"for she had rather sleep\nthan go to see the hunting.\"\n\nThen Arthur went forth, and he heard two horns sounding, one from\nnear the lodging of the chief huntsman, and the other from near\nthat of the chief page. And the whole assembly of the multitudes\ncame to Arthur, and they took the road to the forest.\n\nAnd after Arthur had gone forth from the palace, Guenever awoke,\nand called to her maidens, and apparalled herself. \"Maidens,\" said\nshe, \"I had leave last night to go and see the hunt. Go one of you\nto the stable, and order hither a horse such as a woman may ride.\"\nAnd one of them went, and she found but two horses in the stable;\nand Guenever and one of her maidens mounted them, and went through\nthe Usk, and followed the track of the men and the horses. And as\nthey rode thus, they heard a loud and rushing sound; and they\nlooked behind them, and beheld a knight upon a hunter foal of\nmighty size. And the rider was a fairhaired youth, bare-legged,\nand of princely mien; and a golden-hilted sword was at his side,\nand a robe and a surcoat of satin were upon him, and two low shoes\nof leather upon his feet; and around him was a scarf of blue\npurple, at each corner of which was a golden apple.\n\n      \"For Prince Geraint,\n   Late also, wearing neither hunting-dress\n   Nor weapon, save a golden-hilted brand,\n   Came quickly flashing through the shallow ford.\"\n         --Enid.\n\nAnd his horse stepped stately, and swift, and proud; and he\novertook Guenever, and saluted her. \"Heaven prosper thee,\nGeraint,\" said she; \"and why didst thou not go with thy lord to\nhunt?\" \"Because I knew not when he went,\" said he. \"I marvel too,\"\nsaid she, \"how he could go, unknown to me. But thou, O young man,\nart the most agreeable companion I could have in the whole\nkingdom; and it may be I shall be more amused with the hunting\nthan they; for we shall hear the horns when they sound and we\nshall hear the dogs when they are let loose and begin to cry.\"\n\nSo they went to the edge of the forest, and there they stood.\n\"From this place,\" said she, \"we shall hear when the dogs are let\nloose.\" And thereupon they heard a loud noise; and they looked\ntowards the spot whence it came, and they beheld a dwarf riding\nupon a horse, stately and foaming and prancing and strong and\nspirited. And in the hand of the dwarf was a whip. And near the\ndwarf they saw a lady upon a beautiful white horse, of steady and\nstately pace; and she was clothed in a garment of gold brocade.\nAnd near her was a knight upon a war-horse of large size, with\nheavy and bright armor both upon himself and upon his horse. And\ntruly they never before saw a knight, or a horse, or armor, of\nsuch remarkable size.\n\n\"Geraint,\" said Guenever, \"knowest thou the name of that tall\nknight yonder?\" \"I know him not,\" said he, \"and the strange armor\nthat he wears prevents my either seeing his face or his features.\"\n\"Go, maiden,\" said Guenever, \"and ask the dwarf who that knight\nis.\" Then the maiden went up to the dwarf; and she inquired of the\ndwarf who the knight was. \"I will not tell thee,\" he answered.\n\"Since thou art so churlish,\" said she, \"I will ask him, himself.\"\n\"Thou shalt not ask him, by my faith,\" said he. \"Wherefore not?\"\nsaid she. \"Because thou art not of honor sufficient to befit thee\nto speak to my lord.\" Then the maiden turned her horse's head\ntowards the knight, upon which the dwarf struck her with the whip\nthat was in his hand across the face and the eyes, so that the\nblood flowed forth. And the maiden returned to Guenever,\ncomplaining of the hurt she had received. \"Very rudely has the\ndwarf treated thee,\" said Geraint, and he put his hand upon the\nhilt of his sword. But he took counsel with himself, and\nconsidered that it would be no vengeance for him to slay the\ndwarf, and to be attacked unarmed by the armed knight; so he\nrefrained.\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"I will follow him, with thy permission, and at\nlast he will come to some inhabited place, where I may have arms,\neither as a loan or for a pledge, so that I may encounter the\nknight.\" \"Go,\" said she, \"and do not attack him until thou hast\ngood arms; and I shall be very anxious concerning thee, until I\nhear tidings of thee.\" \"If I am alive,\" said he, \"thou shalt hear\ntidings of me by to-morrow afternoon;\" and with that he departed.\n\nAnd the road they took was below the palace of Caerleon, and\nacross the ford of the Usk; and they went along a fair and even\nand lofty ridge of ground, until they came to a town, and at the\nextremity of the town they saw a fortress and a castle. And as the\nknight passed through the town all the people arose and saluted\nhim, and bade him welcome. And when Geraint came into the town, he\nlooked at every house to see if he knew any of those whom he saw.\nBut he knew none, and none knew him, to do him the kindness to let\nhim have arms, either as a loan or for a pledge. And every house\nhe saw was full of men, and arms, and horses. And they were\npolishing shields, and burnishing swords, and washing armor, and\nshoeing horses. And the knight and the lady and the dwarf rode up\nto the castle, that was in the town, and every one was glad in the\ncastle. And from the battlements and the gates they risked their\nnecks, through their eagerness to greet them, and to show their\njoy.\n\nGeraint stood there to see whether the knight would remain in the\ncastle; and when he was certain that he would do so, he looked\naround him. And at a little distance from the town he saw an old\npalace in ruins, wherein was a hall that was falling to decay.\n\n   \"And high above a piece of turret-stair,\n   Worn by the feet that now were silent, wound\n   Bare to the sun\"\n\n    --Enid.\n\nAnd as he knew not any one in the town, he went towards the old\npalace. And when he came near to the palace, he saw a hoary-headed\nman, standing by it, in tattered garments. And Geraint gazed\nsteadfastly upon him. Then the hoary-headed man said to him,\n\"Young man, wherefore art thou thoughtful?\" \"I am thoughtful,\"\nsaid he, \"because I know not where to pass the night.\" \"Wilt thou\ncome forward this way, chieftain,\" said he, \"and thou shalt have\nof the best that can be procured for thee.\" So Geraint went\nforward. And the hoary-headed man led the way into the hall. And\nin the hall he dismounted, and he left there his horse. Then he\nwent on to the upper chamber with the hoary-headed man. And in the\nchamber he beheld an old woman, sitting on a cushion, with old,\nworn-out garments upon her; yet it seemed to him that she must\nhave been comely when in the bloom of youth. And beside her was a\nmaiden, upon whom were a vest and a veil that were old and\nbeginning to be worn out. And truly he never saw a maiden more\nfull of comeliness and grace and beauty than she. And the hoary-\nheaded man said to the maiden, \"There is no attendant for the\nhorse of this youth but thyself.\" \"I will render the best service\nI am able,\" said she, \"both to him and to his horse.\" And the\nmaiden disarrayed the youth, and then she furnished his horse with\nstraw and corn; and then she returned to the chamber. And the\nhoary-headed man said to the maiden, \"Go to the town and bring\nhither the best that thou canst find, both of food and of liquor.\"\n\"I will gladly, lord,\" said she. And to the town went the maiden.\nAnd they conversed together while the maiden was at the town. And,\nbehold, the maiden came back, and a youth with her, bearing on his\nback a costrel full of good purchased mead, and a quarter of a\nyoung bullock. And in the hands of the maiden was a quantity of\nwhite bread, and she had some manchet bread in her veil, and she\ncame into the chamber. \"I would not obtain better than this,\" said\nshe, \"nor with better should I have been trusted.\" \"It is good\nenough,\" said Geraint. And they caused the meat to be boiled; and\nwhen their food was ready, they sat down. And it was in this wise.\nGeraint sat between the hoary-headed man and his wife, and the\nmaiden served them. And they ate and drank.\n\nAnd when they had finished eating, Geraint talked with the hoary-\nheaded man, and he asked him in the first place to whom belonged\nthe palace that he was in. \"Truly,\" said he, \"it was I that built\nit, and to me also belonged the city and the castle which thou\nsawest.\" \"Alas!\" said Geraint, \"how is it that thou hast lost them\nnow?\" \"I lost a great earldom as well as these,\" said he, \"and\nthis is how I lost them. I had a nephew, the son of my brother,\nand I took care of his possessions; but he was impatient to enter\nupon them, so he made war upon me, and wrested from me not only\nhis own, but also my estates, except this castle.\" \"Good sir,\"\nsaid Geraint, \"wilt thou tell me wherefore came the knight and the\nlady and the dwarf just now into the town, and what is the\npreparation which I saw, and the putting of arms in order?\" \"I\nwill do so,\" said he. \"The preparations are for the game that is\nto be held to-morrow by the young earl, which will be on this\nwise. In the midst of a meadow which is here, two forks will be\nset up, and upon the two forks a silver rod, and upon the silver\nrod a sparrow-hawk, and for the sparrow-hawk there will be a\ntournament. And to the tournament will go all the array thou didst\nsee in the city, of men and of horses and of arms. And with each\nman will go the lady he loves best; and no man can joust for the\nsparrow-hawk, except the lady he loves best be with him. And the\nknight that thou sawest has gained the sparrow-hawk these two\nyears; and if he gains it the third year, he will be called the\nKnight of the Sparrow-hawk from that time forth.\" \"Sir,\" said\nGeraint, \"what is thy counsel to me concerning this knight, on\naccount of the insult which the maiden of Guenever received from\nthe dwarf?\" And Geraint told the hoary-headed man what the insult\nwas that the maiden had received. \"It is not easy to counsel thee,\ninasmuch as thou hast neither dame nor maiden belonging to thee,\nfor whom thou canst joust. Yet I have arms here, which thou\ncouldst have, and there is my horse also, if he seem to thee\nbetter than thine own.\" \"Ah, sir,\" said he, \"Heaven reward thee!\nBut my own horse to which I am accustomed, together with thine\narms, will suffice me. And if, when the appointed time shall come\nto-morrow thou wilt permit me, sir, to challenge for yonder maiden\nthat is thy daughter, I will engage, if I escape from the\ntournament, to love the maiden as long as I live.\" \"Gladly will I\npermit thee,\" said the hoary-headed man; \"and since thou dost thus\nresolve, it is necessary that thy horse and arms should be ready\nto-morrow at break of day. For then the Knight of the Sparrow-hawk\nwill make proclamation, and ask the lady he loves best to take the\nsparrow-hawk; and if any deny it to her, by force will he defend\nher claim. And therefore,\" said the hoary-headed man, \"it is\nneedful for thee to be there at daybreak, and we three will be\nwith thee.\" And thus was it settled.\n\nAnd at night they went to sleep. And before the dawn they arose\nand arrayed themselves; and by the time that it was day, they were\nall four in the meadow. And there was the Knight of the Sparrow-\nhawk making the proclamation, and asking his lady-love to take the\nsparrow-hawk. \"Take it not,\" said Geraint, \"for here is a maiden\nwho is fairer, and more noble, and more comely, and who has a\nbetter claim to it than thou.\" Then said the knight, \"If thou\nmaintainest the sparrow-hawk to be due to her, come forward and do\nbattle with me.\" And Geraint went forward to the top of the\nmeadow, having upon himself and upon his horse armor which was\nheavy and rusty, and of uncouth shape. Then they encountered each\nother, and they broke a set of lances; and they broke a second\nset, and a third. And when the earl and his company saw the Knight\nof the Sparrow-hawk gaining the mastery, there was shouting and\njoy and mirth amongst them; and the hoary-headed man and his wife\nand his daughter were sorrowful. And the hoary-headed man served\nGeraint with lances as often as he broke them, and the dwarf\nserved the Knight of the Sparrow-hawk. Then the hoary-headed man\nsaid to Geraint, \"O chieftain, since no other will hold with thee,\nbehold, here is the lance which was in my hand on the day when I\nreceived the honor of knighthood, and from that time to this I\nnever broke it, and it has an excellent point.\" Then Geraint took\nthe lance, thanking the hoary-headed man. And thereupon the dwarf\nalso brought a lance to his lord. \"Behold, here is a lance for\nthee, not less good than his,\" said the dwarf. \"And bethink thee\nthat no knight ever withstood thee so long as this one has done.\"\n\"I declare to Heaven,\" said Geraint, \"that unless death takes me\nquickly hence, he shall fare never the better for thy service.\"\nAnd Geraint pricked his horse towards him from afar, and, warning\nhim, he rushed upon him, and gave him a blow so severe, and\nfurious, and fierce, upon the face of his shield, that he cleft it\nin two, and broke his armor, and burst his girths, so that both he\nand his saddle were borne to the ground over the horse's crupper.\nAnd Geraint dismounted quickly. And he was wroth, and he drew his\nsword, and rushed fiercely upon him. Then the knight also arose,\nand drew his sword against Geraint. And they fought on foot with\ntheir swords until their arms struck sparks of fire like stars\nfrom one another; and thus they continued fighting until the blood\nand sweat obscured the light from their eyes. At length Geraint\ncalled to him all his strength, and struck the knight upon the\ncrown of his head, so that he broke all his head-armor, and cut\nthrough all the flesh and the skin, even to the skull, until he\nwounded the bone.\n\nThen the knight fell upon his knees, and cast his sword from his\nhand, and besought mercy from Geraint. \"Of a truth,\" said he, \"I\nrelinquish my overdaring and my pride, and crave thy mercy; and\nunless I have time to commit myself to Heaven for my sins, and to\ntalk with a priest, thy mercy will avail me little.\" \"I will grant\nthee grace upon this condition,\" said Geraint, \"that thou go to\nGuenever, the wife of Arthur, to do her satisfaction for the\ninsult which her maiden received from thy dwarf. Dismount not from\nthe time thou goest hence until thou comest into the presence of\nGuenever, to make her what atonement shall be adjudged at the\ncourt of Arthur.\" \"This will I do gladly; and who art thou?\" \"I am\nGeraint, the son of Erbin; and declare thou also who thou art.\" \"I\nam Edeym, the son of Nudd.\" Then he threw himself upon his horse,\nand went forward to Arthur's court; and the lady he loved best\nwent before him, and the dwarf, with much lamentation.\n\nThen came the young earl and his hosts to Geraint, and saluted\nhim, and bade him to his castle. \"I may not go,\" said Geraint;\n\"but where I was last night, there will I be to-night also.\"\n\"Since thou wilt none of my inviting, thou shalt have abundance of\nall that I can command for thee; and I will order ointment for\nthee, to recover thee from thy fatigues, and from the weariness\nthat is upon thee.\" \"Heaven reward thee,\" said Geraint, \"and I\nwill go to my lodging.\" And thus went Geraint and Earl Ynywl, and\nhis wife and his daughter. And when they reached the old mansion,\nthe household servants and attendants of the young earl had\narrived, and had arranged all the apartments, dressing them with\nstraw and with fire; and in a short time the ointment was ready,\nand Geraint came there, and they washed his head. Then came the\nyoung earl, with forty honorable knights from among his\nattendants, and those who were bidden to the tournament. And\nGeraint came from the anointing. And the earl asked him to go to\nthe hall to eat. \"Where is the Earl Ynywl,\" said Geraint, \"and his\nwife and his daughter?\" \"They are in the chamber yonder,\" said the\nearl's chamberlain, \"arraying themselves in garments which the\nearl has caused to be brought for them.\" \"Let not the damsel array\nherself,\" said he, \"except in her vest and her veil, until she\ncome to the court of Arthur, to be clad by Guenever in such\ngarments as she may choose.\" So the maiden did not array herself.\n\nThen they all entered the hall, and they washed, and sat down to\nmeat. And thus were they seated. On one side of Geraint sat the\nyoung earl, and Earl Ynywl beyond him, and on the other side of\nGeraint was the maiden and her mother. And after these all sat\naccording to their precedence in honor. And they ate. And they\nwere served abundantly, and they received a profusion of divers\nkinds of gifts. Then they conversed together. And the young earl\ninvited Geraint to visit him next day. \"I will not, by Heaven,\"\nsaid Geraint. \"To the court of Arthur will I go with this maiden\nto-morrow. And it is enough for me, as long as Earl Ynywl is in\npoverty and trouble; and I go chiefly to seek to add to his\nmaintenance.\" \"Ah, chieftain,\" said the young earl, \"it is not by\nmy fault that Earl Ynywl is without his possessions.\" \"By my\nfaith,\" said Geraint, \"he shall not remain without them, unless\ndeath quickly takes me hence.\" \"O chieftain,\" said he, \"with\nregard to the disagreement between me and Ynywl, I will gladly\nabide by thy counsel, and agree to what thou mayest judge right\nbetween us.\" \"I but ask thee,\" said Geraint, \"to restore to him\nwhat is his, and what he should have received from the time he\nlost his possessions even until this day.\" \"That will I do,\ngladly, for thee,\" answered he. \"Then,\" said Geraint, \"whosoever\nis here who owes homage to Ynywl, let him come forward, and\nperform it on the spot.\" And all the men did so; and by that\ntreaty they abided. And his castle and his town, and all his\npossessions, were restored to Ynywl. And he received back all that\nhe had lost, even to the smallest jewel.\n\nThen spoke Earl Ynywl to Geraint. \"Chieftain,\" said he, \"behold\nthe maiden for whom thou didst challenge at the tournament; I\nbestow her upon thee.\" \"She shall go with me,\" said Geraint, \"to\nthe court of Arthur, and Arthur and Guenever, they shall dispose\nof her as they will.\" And the next day they proceeded to Arthur's\ncourt. So far concerning Geraint.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nGERAINT, THE SON OF ERBIN (Continued)\n\n\nNow this is how Arthur hunted the stag. The men and the dogs were\ndivided into hunting-parties, and the dogs were let loose upon the\nstag. And the last dog that was let loose was the favorite dog of\nArthur; Cavall was his name. And he left all the other dogs behind\nhim and turned the stag. And at the second turn the stag came\ntoward the hunting-party of Arthur. And Arthur set upon him; and\nbefore he could be slain by any other, Arthur cut off his head.\nThen they sounded the death-horn for slaying and they all gathered\nround.\n\nThey came Kadyriath to Arthur and spoke to him. \"Lord,\" said he,\n\"behold, yonder is Guenever, and none with her save only one\nmaiden.\" \"Command Gildas, the son of Caw, and all the scholars of\nthe court,\" said Arthur, \"to attend Guenever to the palace.\" And\nthey did so.\n\nThen they all set forth, holding converse together concerning the\nhead of the stag, to whom it should be given. One wished that it\nshould be given to the lady best beloved by him, and another to\nthe lady whom he loved best. And so they came to the palace. And\nwhen Arthur and Guenever heard them disputing about the head of\nthe stag, Guenever said to Arthur: \"My lord, this is my counsel\nconcerning the stag's head; let it not be given away until\nGeraint, the son of Erbin, shall return from the errand he is\nupon.\" And Guenever told Arthur what that errand was. \"Right\ngladly shall it be so,\" said Arthur. And Guenever caused a watch\nto be set upon the ramparts for Geraint's coming. And after midday\nthey beheld an unshapely little man upon a horse, and after him a\ndame or a damsel, also on horseback, and after her a knight of\nlarge stature, bowed down, and hanging his head low and\nsorrowfully, and clad in broken and worthless armor.\n\nAnd before they came near to the gate one of the watch went to\nGuenever, and told her what kind of people they saw, and what\naspect they bore. \"I know not who they are,\" said he, \"But I\nknow,\" said Guenever; \"this is the knight whom Geraint pursued,\nand methinks that he comes not here by his own free will. But\nGeraint has overtaken him, and avenged the insult to the maiden to\nthe uttermost.\" And thereupon, behold, a porter came to the spot\nwhere Guenever was. \"Lady,\" said he, \"at the gate there is a\nknight, and I saw never a man of so pitiful an aspect to look upon\nas he. Miserable and broken is the armor that he wears, and the\nhue of blood is more conspicuous upon it than its own color.\"\n\"Knowest thou his name?\" said she. \"I do,\" said he; \"he tells me\nthat he is Edeyrn, the son of Nudd.\" Then she replied, \"I know him\nnot.\"\n\nSo Guenever went to the gate to meet him and he entered. And\nGuenever was sorry when she saw the condition he was in, even\nthough he was accompanied by the churlish dwarf. Then Edeyrn\nsaluted Guenever. \"Heaven protect thee,\" said she. \"Lady,\" said\nhe, \"Geraint, the son of Erbin, thy best and most valiant servant,\ngreets thee.\" \"Did he meet with thee?\" she asked. \"Yes,\" said he,\n\"and it was not to my advantage; and that was not his fault, but\nmine, lady. And Geraint greets thee well; and in greeting thee he\ncompelled me to come hither to do thy pleasure for the insult\nwhich thy maiden received from the dwarf.\" \"Now where did he\novertake thee?\" \"At the place where we were jousting and\ncontending for the sparrow-hawk, in the town which is now called\nCardiff. And it was for the avouchment of the love of the maiden,\nthe daughter of Earl Ynywl, that Geraint jousted at the\ntournament. And thereupon we encountered each other, and he left\nme, lady, as thou seest.\" \"Sir,\" said she, \"when thinkest thou\nthat Geraint will be here?\" \"To-morrow, lady, I think he will be\nhere with the maiden.\"\n\nThen Arthur came to them. And he saluted Arthur, and Arthur gazed\na long time upon him and was amazed to see him thus. And thinking\nthat he knew him, he inquired of him, \"Art thou Edeyrn, the son of\nNudd?\" \"I am, lord,\" said he, \"and I have met with much trouble\nand received wounds unsupportable.\" Then he told Arthur all his\nadventure. \"Well,\" said Arthur, \"from what I hear it behooves\nGuenever to be merciful towards thee.\" \"The mercy which thou\ndesirest, lord,\" said she. \"will I grant to him, since it is as\ninsulting to thee that an insult should be offered to me as to\nthyself.\" \"Thus will it be best to do,\" said Arthur; \"let this man\nhave medical care until it be known whether he may live. And if he\nlive, he shall do such satisfaction as shall be judged best by the\nmen of the court. And if he die, too much will be the death of\nsuch a youth as Edeyrn for an insult to a maiden.\" \"This pleases\nme,\" said Guenever. And Arthur caused Morgan Tud to be called to\nhim. He was the chief physician. \"Take with thee Edeyrn, the son\nof Nudd, and cause a chamber to be prepared for him, and let him\nhave the aid of medicine as thou wouldst do unto myself, if I were\nwounded, and let none into his chamber to molest him, but thyself\nand thy disciples, to administer to him remedies.\" \"I will do so,\ngladly, lord,\" said Morgan Tud. Then said the steward of the\nhousehold, \"Whither is it right, lord, to order the maiden?\" \"To\nGuenever and her handmaidens,\" said he. And the steward of the\nhousehold so ordered her.\n\n    \"And rising up, he rode to Arthur's court,\n    And there the queen forgave him easily.\n    And being young, he changed himself, and grew\n    To hate the sin that seem'd so like his own\n    Of Modred, Arthur's nephew, and fell at last\n    In the great battle fighting for the king.\"\n\n    --Enid.\n\nThe next day came Geraint towards the court; and there was a watch\nset on the ramparts by Guenever, lest he should arrive unawares.\nAnd one of the watch came to Guenever. \"Lady,\" said he, \"methinks\nthat I see Geraint, and a maiden with him. He is on horseback, but\nhe has his walking gear upon him, and the maiden appears to be in\nwhite, seeming to be clad in a garment of linen.\" \"Assemble all\nthe women,\" said Guenever, \"and come to meet Geraint, to welcome\nhim, and wish him joy.\" And Guenever went to meet Geraint and the\nmaiden. And when Geraint came to the place where Guenever was, he\nsaluted her. \"Heaven prosper thee,\" said she, \"and welcome to\nthee.\" \"Lady,\" said he, \"I earnestly desired to obtain thee\nsatisfaction, according to thy will; and, behold, here is the\nmaiden through whom thou hadst thy revenge.\" \"Verily,\" said\nGuenever, \"the welcome of Heaven be unto her; and it is fitting\nthat we should receive her joyfully.\" Then they went in and\ndismounted. And Geraint came to where Arthur was, and saluted him.\n\"Heaven protect thee,\" said Arthur, \"and the welcome of Heaven be\nunto thee. And inasmuch as thou hast vanquished Edeyrn, the son of\nNudd, thou hast had a prosperous career.\" \"Not upon me be the\nblame,\" said Geraint; \"it was through the arrogance of Edeyrn, the\nson of Nudd, himself, that we were not friends.\" \"Now,\" said\nArthur, \"where is the maiden for whom I heard thou didst give\nchallenge?\" \"She is gone with Guenever to her chamber.\" Then went\nArthur to see the maiden. And Arthur, and all his companions, and\nhis whole court, were glad concerning the maiden. And certain were\nthey all, that, had her array been suitable to her beauty, they\nhad never seen a maid fairer than she. And Arthur gave away the\nmaiden to Geraint. And the usual bond made between two persons was\nmade between Geraint and the maiden, and the choicest of all\nGuenever's apparel was given to the maiden; and thus arrayed, she\nappeared comely and graceful to all who beheld her. And that day\nand the night were spent in abundance of minstrelsy, and ample\ngifts of liquor, and a multiude of games. And when it was time for\nthem to go to sleep they went. And in the chamber where the couch\nof Arthur and Guenever was, the couch of Geraint and Enid was\nprepared. And from that time she became his wife. And the next day\nArthur satisfied all the claimants upon Geraint with bountiful\ngifts. And the maiden took up her abode in the palace, and she had\nmany companions, both men and women, and there was no maiden more\nesteemed than she in the island of Britain.\n\nThen spake Guenever. \"Rightly did I judge,\" said she, \"concerning\nthe head of the stag, that it should not be given to any until\nGeraint's return; and behold, here is a fit occasion for bestowing\nit. Let it be given to Enid, the daughter of Ynywl, the most\nillustrious maiden. And I do not believe that any will begrudge it\nher, for between her and every one here there exists nothing but\nlove and friendship.\" Much applauded was this by them all, and by\nArthur also. And the head of the stag was given to Enid. And\nthereupon her fame increased, and her friends became more in\nnumber than before. And Geraint from that time forth loved the\nhunt, and the tournament, and hard encounters; and he came\nvictorious from them all. And a year, and a second, and a third,\nhe proceeded thus, until his fame had flown over the face of the\nkingdom.\n\nAnd, once upon a time, Arthur was holding his court at Caerleon\nupon Usk; and behold, there came to him ambassadors, wise and\nprudent, full of knowledge and eloquent of speech, and they\nsaluted Arthur. \"Heaven prosper you!\" said Arthur; \"and whence do\nyou come?\" \"We come, lord,\" said they, \"from Cornwall; and we are\nambassadors from Erbin, the son of Custennin, thy uncle, and our\nmission is unto thee. And he greets thee well, as an uncle should\ngreet his nephew, and as a vassal should greet his lord. And he\nrepresents unto thee that he waxes heavy and feeble, and is\nadvancing in years. And the neighboring chiefs, knowing this, grow\ninsolent towards him, and covet his land and possessions. And he\nearnestly beseeches thee, lord, to permit Geraint, his son, to\nreturn to him, to protect his possessions, and to become\nacquainted with his boundaries. And unto him he represents that it\nwere better for him to spend the flower of his youth and the prime\nof his age in preserving his own boundaries, than in tournaments\nwhich are productive of no profit, although he obtains glory in\nthem.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Arthur, \"go and divest yourselves of your\naccoutrements, and take food, and refresh yourselves after your\nfatigues; and before you go from hence you shall have an answer.\"\nAnd they went to eat. And Arthur considered that it would go hard\nwith him to let Geraint depart from him, and from his court;\nneither did he think it fair that his cousin should be restrained\nfrom going to protect his dominions and his boundaries, seeing\nthat his father was unable to do so. No less was the grief and\nregret of Guenever, and all her women, and all her damsels,\nthrough fear that the maiden would leave them. And that day and\nthat night were spent in abundance of feasting. And Arthur told\nGeraint the cause of the mission, and of the coming of the\nambassadors to him out of Cornwall. \"Truly,\" said Geraint, \"be it\nto my advantage or disadvantage, lord, I will do according to thy\nwill concerning this embassy.\" \"Behold,\" said Arthur, \"though it\ngrieves me to part with thee, it is my counsel that thou go to\ndwell in thine own dominions, and to defend thy boundaries, and\ntake with thee to accompany thee as many as thou wilt of those\nthou lovest best among my faithful ones, and among thy friends,\nand among thy companions in arms.\" \"Heaven reward thee! and this\nwill I do,\" said Geraint. \"What discourse,\" said Guenever, \"do I\nhear between you? Is it of those who are to conduct Geraint to his\ncountry?\" \"It is,\" said Arthur. \"Then is it needful for me to\nconsider,\" said she, \"concerning companions and a provision for\nthe lady that is with me.\" \"Thou wilt do well,\" said Arthur.\n\nAnd that night they went to sleep. And the next day the\nambassadors were permitted to depart, and they were told that\nGeraint should follow them. And on the third day Geraint set\nforth, and many went with him--Gawain, the son of Gwyar, and\nRiogoned, the son of the king of Ireland, and Ondyaw, the son of\nthe Duke of Burgundy, Gwilim, the son of the ruler of the Franks,\nHowel, the son of the Earl of Brittany, Perceval, the son of\nEvrawk, Gwyr, a judge in the court of Arthur, Bedwyr, the son of\nBedrawd, Kai, the son of Kyner, Odyar, the Frank, and Ederyn, the\nson of Nudd. Said Geraint, \"I think I shall have enough of\nknighthood with me.\" And they set forth. And never was there seen\na fairer host journeying towards the Severn. And on the other side\nof the Severn were the nobles of Erbin, the son of Custennin, and\nhis foster-father at their head, to welcome Geraint with gladness;\nand many of the women of the court, with his mother, came to\nreceive Enid, the daughter of Ynywl, his wife. And there was great\nrejoicing and gladness throughout the whole court, and through all\nthe country, concerning Geraint, because of the greatness of their\nlove to him, and of the greatness of the fame which he had gained\nsince he went from amongst them, and because he was come to take\npossession of his dominions, and to preserve his boundaries. And\nthey came to the court. And in the court they had ample\nentertainment, and a multitude of gifts, and abundance of liquor,\nand a sufficiency of service, and a variety of games. And to do\nhonor to Geraint, all the chief men of the country were invited\nthat night to visit him. And they passed that day and that night\nin the utmost enjoyment. And at dawn next day Erbin arose and\nsummoned to him Geraint, and the noble persons who had borne him\ncompany. And he said to Geraint: \"I am a feeble and an aged man,\nand whilst I was able to maintain the dominion for thee and for\nmyself, I did so. But thou art young, and in the flower of thy\nvigor and of thy youth. Henceforth do thou preserve thy\npossessions.\" \"Truly,\" said Geraint, \"with my consent thou shalt\nnot give the power over thy dominions at this time into my hands,\nand thou shalt not take me from Arthur's court.\" \"Into thy hands\nwill I give them,\" said Erbin, \"and this day also shalt thou\nreceive the homage of thy subjects.\"\n\nThen said Gawain, \"It were better for thee to satisfy those who\nhave boons to ask, to-day, and to-morrow thou canst receive the\nhomage of thy dominions.\" So all that had boons to ask were\nsummoned into one place. And Kadyriath came to them to know what\nwere their requests. And every one asked that which he desired.\nAnd the followers of Arthur began to make gifts, and immediately\nthe men of Cornwall came, and gave also. And they were not long in\ngiving, so eager was every one to bestow gifts, and of those who\ncame to ask gifts, none departed unsatisfied. And that day and\nthat night were spent in the utmost enjoyment.\n\nAnd the next day at dawn, Erbin desired Geraint to send messengers\nto the men to ask them whether it was displeasing to them that he\nshould come to receive their homage, and whether they had anything\nto object to him. Then Geraint sent ambassadors to the men of\nCornwall to ask them this. And they all said that it would be the\nfulness of joy and honor to them for Geraint to come and receive\ntheir homage. So he received the homage of such as were there. And\nthe day after the followers of Arthur intended to go away. \"It is\ntoo soon for you to go away yet,\" said he; \"stay with me until I\nhave finished receiving the homage of my chief men, who have\nagreed to come to me.\" And they remained with him until he had\ndone so. Then they set forth towards the court of Arthur. And\nGeraint went to bear them company, and Enid also, as far as\nDiganwy; there they parted. And Ondyaw, the son of the Duke of\nBurgundy, said to Geraint, \"Go, now, and visit the uttermost parts\nof thy dominions, and see well to the boundaries of thy\nterritories; and if thou hast any trouble respecting them, send\nunto thy companions.\" \"Heaven reward thee!\" said Geraint; \"and\nthis will I do.\" And Geraint journeyed to the uttermost parts of\nhis dominions. And experienced guides, and the chief men of his\ncountry, went with him. And the furthermost point that they showed\nhim he kept possession of.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nGERAINT, THE SON OF ERBIN (Continued)\n\n\nGeraint, as he had been used to do when he was at Arthur's court,\nfrequented tournaments. And he became acquainted with valiant and\nmighty men, until he had gained as much fame there as he had\nformerly done elsewhere. And he enriched his court, and his\ncompanions, and his nobles, with the best horses and the best\narms, and with the best and most valuable jewels, and he ceased\nnot until his fame had flown over the face of the whole kingdom.\n\n   \"Before Geraint, the scourge of the enemy,\n    I saw steeds white with foam,\n    And after the shout of battle a fearful torrent.\"\n\n    --Hen.\n\nWhen he knew that it was thus, he began to love ease and pleasure,\nfor there was no one who was worth his opposing. And he loved his\nwife, and liked to continue in the palace with minstrelsy and\ndiversions. So he began to shut himself up in the chamber of his\nwife, and he took no delight in anything besides, insomuch that he\ngave up the friendship of his nobles, together with his hunting\nand his amusements, and lost the hearts of all the host in his\ncourt. And there was murmuring and scoffing concerning him among\nthe inhabitants of the palace, on account of his relinquishing so\ncompletely their companionship for the love of his wife.\n\n                                     \"They\n    Began to scoff and jeer and babble of him\n    As of a prince whose manhood was all gone,\n    And molten down in mere uxoriousness.\"\n\nThese tidings came to Erbin. And when Erbin had heard these\nthings, he spoke unto Enid, and inquired of her whether it was she\nthat had caused Geraint to act thus, and to forsake his people and\nhis hosts. \"Not I, by my confession unto Heaven,\" said she; \"there\nis nothing more hateful unto me than this.\" And she knew not what\nshe should do, for, although it was hard for her to own this to\nGeraint, yet was it not more easy for her to listen to what she\nheard, without warning Geraint concerning it. And she was very\nsorrowful.\n\nOne morning in the summer-time they were upon their couch, and\nGeraint lay upon the edge of it. And Enid was without sleep in the\napartment, which had windows of glass; [Footnote: The terms of\nadmiration in which the older writers invariably speak of GLASS\nWINDOWS would be sufficient proof, if other evidence were wanting,\nhow rare an article of luxury they were in the houses of our\nancestors. They were first introduced in ecclesiastical\narchitecture, to which they were for a long time confined. Glass\nis said not to have been employed in domestic architecture before\nthe fourteenth century.] and the sun shone upon the couch. And the\nclothes had slipped from off his arms and his breast, and he was\nasleep. Then she gazed upon the marvellous beauty of his\nappearance, and she said, \"Alas! and am I the cause that these\narms and this breast have lost their glory, and the warlike fame\nwhich they once so richly enjoyed!\" As she said this the tears\ndropped from her eyes, and they fell upon his breast. And the\ntears she shed and the words she had spoken, awoke him. And\nanother thing contributed to awaken him, and that was the idea\nthat it was not in thinking of him that she spoke thus, but that\nit was because she loved some other man more than him, and that\nshe wished for other society. Thereupon Geraint was troubled in\nhis mind, and he called his squire; and when he came to him, \"Go\nquickly,\" said he, \"and prepare my horse and my arms, and make\nthem ready. And do thou rise,\" said he to Enid, \"and apparel\nthyself; and cause thy horse to be accoutred, and clothe thee in\nthe worst riding-dress that thou hast in thy possession. And evil\nbetide me,\" said he, \"if thou returnest here until thou knowest\nwhether I have lost my strength so completely as thou didst say.\nAnd if it be so, it will then be easy for thee to seek the society\nthou didst wish for of him of whom thou wast thinking.\" So she\narose, and clothed herself in her meanest garments. \"I know\nnothing, lord,\" said she, \"of thy meaning.\" \"Neither wilt thou\nknow at this time,\" said he.\n\nThen Geraint went to see Erbin. \"Sir,\" said he, \"I am going upon a\nquest, and I am not certain when I may come back. Take heed,\ntherefore, unto thy possessions until my return.\" \"I will do so,\"\nsaid he; \"but it is strange to me that thou shouldst go so\nsuddenly. And who will proceed with thee, since thou art not\nstrong enough to traverse the land of Loegyr alone?\" \"But one\nperson only will go with me.\" \"Heaven counsel thee, my son,\" said\nErbin, \"and may many attach themselves to thee in Loegyr.\" Then\nwent Geraint to the place where his horse was, and it was equipped\nwith foreign armor, heavy and shining. And he desired Enid to\nmount her horse, and to ride forward, and to keep a long way\nbefore him. \"And whatever thou mayst see, and whatever thou mayst\nhear concerning me,\" said he, \"do thou not turn back. And unless I\nspeak unto thee, say not thou one word, either.\" So they set\nforward. And he did not choose the pleasantest and most frequented\nroad, but that which was the wildest and most beset by thieves and\nrobbers and venomous animals.\n\nAnd they came to a high road, which they followed till they saw a\nvast forest; and they saw four armed horsemen come forth from the\nforest. When the armed men saw them, they said one to another.\n\"Here is a good occasion for us to capture two horses and armor,\nand a lady likewise; for this we shall have no difficulty in doing\nagainst yonder single knight who hangs his head so pensively and\nheavily.\" Enid heard this discourse, and she knew not what she\nshould do through fear of Geraint, who had told her to be silent.\n\"The vengeance of Heaven be upon me,\" said she, \"if I would not\nrather receive my death from his hand than from the hand of any\nother; and though he should slay me, yet will I speak to him, lest\nI should have the misery to witness his death.\" So she waited for\nGeraint until he came near to her. \"Lord,\" said she, \"didst thou\nhear the words of those men concerning thee?\" Then he lifted up\nhis eyes, and looked at her angrily. \"Thou hadst only,\" said he,\n\"to hold thy peace as I bade thee. I wish but for silence, and not\nfor warning. And though thou shouldst desire to see my defeat and\nmy death by the hands of those men, yet do I feel no dread.\" Then\nthe foremost of them couched his lance, and rushed upon Geraint.\nAnd he received him, and that not feebly. But he let the thrust go\nby him, while he struck the horseman upon the centre of his\nshield, in such a manner that his shield was split, and his armor\nbroken, so that a cubit's length of the shaft of Geraint's lance\npassed through his body, and sent him to the earth, the length of\nthe lance over his horse's crupper. Then the second horseman\nattacked him furiously, being wroth at the death of his companion.\nBut with one thrust Geraint overthrew him also, and killed him as\nhe had done the other. Then the third set upon him, and he killed\nhim in like manner. And thus also he slew the fourth. Sad and\nsorrowful was the maiden as she saw all this. Geraint dismounted\nhis horse, and took the arms of the men he had slain, and placed\nthem upon their saddles, and tied together the reins of their\nhorses; and he mounted his horse again. \"Behold what thou must\ndo,\" said he; \"take the four horses and drive them before thee,\nand proceed forward as I bade thee just now. And say not one word\nunto me, unless I speak first unto thee. And I declare unto\nHeaven,\" said he, \"if thou doest not thus, it will be to thy\ncost.\" \"I will do as far as I can, lord,\" said she, \"according to\nthy desire.\"\n\nSo the maiden went forward, keeping in advance of Geraint, as he\nhad desired her; and it grieved him as much as his wrath would\npermit, to see a maiden so illustrious as she having so much\ntrouble with the care of the horses. Then they reached a wood, and\nit was both deep and vast, and in the wood night overtook them.\n\"Ah, maiden,\" said he, \"it is vain to attempt proceeding forward.\"\n\"Well, lord,\" said she, \"whatever thou wishest, we will do.\" \"It\nwill be best for us,\" he answered, \"to rest and wait for the day,\nin order to pursue our journey.\" \"That we will, gladly,\" said she.\nAnd they did so. Having dismounted himself, he took her down from\nher horse. \"I cannot by any means refrain from sleep, through\nweariness,\" said he; \"do thou therefore watch the horses, and\nsleep not.\" \"I will, lord,\" said she. Then he went to sleep in his\narmor, and thus passed the night, which was not long at that\nseason. And when she saw the dawn of day appear, she looked around\nher to see if he were waking, and thereupon he woke. Then he\narose, and said unto her, \"Take the horses and ride on, and keep\nstraight on as thou didst yesterday.\" And they left the wood, and\nthey came to an open country, with meadows on one hand, and mowers\nmowing the meadows. And there was a river before them, and the\nhorses bent down and drank of the water. And they went up out of\nthe river by a lofty steep; and there they met a slender stripling\nwith a satchel about his neck, and they saw that there was\nsomething in the satchel, but they knew not what it was. And he\nhad a small blue pitcher in his hand, and a bowl on the mouth of\nthe pitcher. And the youth saluted Geraint. \"Heaven prosper thee!\"\nsaid Geraint; \"and whence dost thou come?\" \"I come,\" said he,\n\"from the city that lies before thee. My lord,\" he added, \"will it\nbe displeasing to thee if I ask whence thou comest also?\" \"By no\nmeans; through yonder wood did I come.\" \"Thou camest not through\nthe wood to-day.\" \"No,\" he replied, \"we were in the wood last\nnight.\" \"I warrant,\" said the youth, \"that thy condition there\nlast night was not the most pleasant, and that thou hadst neither\nmeat nor drink.\" \"No, by my faith,\" said he. \"Wilt thou follow my\ncounsel,\" said the youth, \"and take thy meal from me?\" \"What sort\nof meal?\" he inquired. \"The breakfast which is sent for yonder\nmowers, nothing less than bread and meat and wine, and if thou\nwilt, sir, they shall have none of it.\" \"I will,\" said he, \"and\nHeaven reward thee for it.\"\n\nSo Geraint alighted, and the youth took the maiden from off her\nhorse. Then they washed, and took their repast. And the youth cut\nthe bread in slices, and gave them drink, and served them withal.\nAnd when they had finished, the youth arose and said to Geraint,\n\"My lord, with thy permission, I will now go and fetch some food\nfor the mowers.\" \"Go first to the town,\" said Geraint, \"and take a\nlodging for me in the best place that thou knowest, and the most\ncommodious one for the horses; and take thou whichever horse and\narms thou choosest, in payment for thy service and thy gift.\"\n\"Heaven reward thee, lord!\" said the youth; \"and this would be\nample to repay services much greater than those I have rendered\nunto thee.\" And to the town went the youth, and he took the best\nand the most pleasant lodgings that he knew; and after that he\nwent to the palace, having the horse and armor with him, and\nproceeded to the place where the earl was, and told him all his\nadventure. \"I go now, lord,\" said he, \"to meet the knight, and to\nconduct him to his lodging.\" \"Go, gladly,\" said the earl; \"and\nright joyfully shall he be received here, if he so come.\" And the\nyouth went to meet Geraint, and told him that he would be received\ngladly by the earl in his own palace; but he would go only to his\nlodgings. And he had a goodly chamber, in which was plenty of\nstraw and drapery, and a spacious and commodious place he had for\nthe horses; and the youth prepared for them plenty of provender.\nAfter they had disarrayed themselves, Geraint spoke thus to Enid:\n\"Go,\" said he, \"to the other side of the chamber, and come not to\nthis side of the house; and thou mayst call to thee the woman of\nthe house, if thou wilt.\" \"I will do, lord,\" said she, \"as thou\nsayest.\" Thereupon the man of the house came to Geraint and\nwelcomed him. And after they had eaten and drank, Geraint went to\nsleep, and so did Enid also.\n\nIn the evening, behold, the earl came to visit Geraint, and his\ntwelve honorable knights with him. And Geraint rose up and\nwelcomed him. Then they all sat down according to their precedence\nin honor. And the earl conversed with Geraint, and inquired of him\nthe object of his journey. \"I have none,\" he replied, \"but to seek\nadventures and to follow mine own inclination.\" Then the earl cast\nhis eye upon Enid, and he looked at her steadfastly. And he\nthought he had never seen a maiden fairer or more comely than she.\nAnd he set all his thoughts and his affections upon her. Then he\nasked of Geraint, \"Have I thy permission to go and converse with\nyonder maiden, for I see that she is apart from thee?\" \"Thou hast\nit gladly,\" said he. So the earl went to the place where the\nmaiden was, and spake with her. \"Ah! maiden,\" said he, \"it cannot\nbe pleasant to thee to journey with yonder man.\" \"It is not\nunpleasant to me,\" said she. \"Thou hast neither youths nor maidens\nto serve thee,\" said he. \"Truly,\" she replied, \"it is more\npleasant for me to follow yonder man, than to be served by youths\nand maidens.\" \"I will give thee good counsel,\" said he: \"all my\nearldom will I place in thy possession, if thou wilt dwell with\nme.\"\n\n   \"Enid, the pilot star of my lone life,\n    Enid, my early and my only love.\"\n\n    --Enid.\n\n\"That will I not, by Heaven,\" she said; \"yonder man was the first\nto whom my faith was ever pledged; and shall I prove inconstant to\nhim?\" \"Thou art in the wrong,\" said the earl; \"if I slay the man\nyonder, I can keep thee with me as long as I choose; and when thou\nno longer pleasest me, I can turn thee away. But if thou goest\nwith me by thy own good-will, I protest that our union shall\ncontinue as long as I remain alive.\" Then she pondered those words\nof his, and she considered that it was advisable to encourage him\nin his request. \"Behold then, chieftain, this is most expedient\nfor thee to do to save me from all reproach; come here to-morrow\nand take me away as though I knew nothing thereof.\" \"I will do\nso,\" said he. So he arose and took his leave, and went forth with\nhis attendants. And she told not then to Geraint any of the\nconversation which she had had with the earl, lest it should rouse\nhis anger, and cause him uneasiness and care.\n\nAnd at the usual hour they went to sleep. And at the beginning of\nthe night Enid slept a little; and at midnight she arose, and\nplaced all Geraint's armor together so that it might be ready to\nput on. And although fearful of her errand, she came to the side\nof Geraint's bed; and she spoke to him softly and gently, saying,\n\"My lord, arise, and clothe thyself, for these were the words of\nthe earl to me and his intention concerning me.\" So she told\nGeraint all that had passed. And although he was wroth with her,\nhe took warning, and clothed himself. And she lighted a candle,\nthat he might have light to do so. \"Leave there the candle,\" said\nhe, \"and desire the man of the house to come here.\" Then she went,\nand the man of the house came to him. \"Dost thou know how much I\nowe thee?\" asked Geraint. \"I think thou owest but little.\" \"Take\nthe three horses and the three suits of armor.\" \"Heaven reward\nthee, lord,\" said he, \"but I spent not the value of one suit of\narmor upon thee.\" \"For that reason,\" said he, \"thou wilt be the\nricher. And now, wilt thou come to guide me out of the town?\" \"I\nwill gladly,\" said he; \"and in which direction dost thou intend to\ngo?\" \"I wish to leave the town by a different way from that by\nwhich I entered it.\" So the man of the lodgings accompanied him as\nfar as he desired. Then he bade the maiden to go on before him,\nand she did so, and went straight forward, and his host returned\nhome.\n\nAnd Geraint and the maiden went forward along the high-road. And\nas they journeyed thus, they heard an exceeding loud wailing near\nto them. \"Stay thou here,\" said he, \"and I will go and see what is\nthe cause of this wailing.\" \"I will,\" said she. Then he went\nforward into an open glade that was near the road. And in the\nglade he saw two horses, one having a man's saddle, and the other\na woman's saddle upon it. And behold there was a knight lying dead\nin his armor, and a young damsel in a riding-dress standing over\nhim lamenting. \"Ah, lady,\" said Geraint, \"what hath befallen\nthee?\" \"Behold,\" she answered, \"I journeyed here with my beloved\nhusband, when lo! three giants came upon us, and without any cause\nin the world, they slew him.\" \"Which way went they hence?\" said\nGeraint. \"Yonder by the high-road,\" she replied. So he returned to\nEnid. \"Go,\" said he, \"to the lady that is below yonder, and await\nme there till I come.\" She was sad when he ordered her to do thus,\nbut nevertheless she went to the damsel, whom it was ruth to hear,\nand she felt certain that Geraint would never return.\n\nMeanwhile Geraint followed the giants, and overtook them. And each\nof them was greater in stature than three other men, and a huge\nclub was on the shoulder of each. Then he rushed upon one of them,\nand thrust his lance through his body. And having drawn it forth\nagain, he pierced another of them through likewise. But the third\nturned upon him and struck him with his club so that he split his\nshield and crushed his shoulder. But Geraint drew his sword and\ngave the giant a blow on the crown of his head, so severe, and\nfierce, and violent, that his head and his neck were split down to\nhis shoulders, and he fell dead. So Geraint left him thus and\nreturned to Enid. And when he reached the place where she was he\nfell down lifeless from his horse. Piercing and loud and thrilling\nwas the cry that Enid uttered. And she came and stood over him\nwhere he had fallen. And at the sound of her cries came the Earl\nof Limours, and they who journeyed with him, whom her lamentations\nbrought out of their road. And the earl said to Enid, \"Alas, lady,\nwhat hath befallen thee?\" \"Ah, good sir,\" said she, \"the only man\nI have loved, or ever shall love, is slain.\" Then he said to the\nother, \"And what is the cause of thy grief?\" \"They have slain my\nbeloved husband also,\" said she. \"And who was it that slew them?\"\n\"Some giants,\" she answered, \"slew my best-beloved, and the other\nknight went in pursuit of them, and came back in the state thou\nseest.\" The earl caused the knight that was dead to be buried, but\nhe thought that there still remained some life in Geraint; and to\nsee if he yet would live, he had him carried with him in the\nhollow of his shield, and upon a bier. And the two damsels went to\nthe court; and when they arrived there, Geraint was placed upon a\nlittle couch in front of the table that was in the hall. Then they\nall took off their traveling-gear, and the earl besought Enid to\ndo the same, and to clothe herself in other garments. \"I will not,\nby Heaven,\" said she. \"Ah, lady,\" said he, \"be not so sorrowful\nfor this matter.\" \"It were hard to persuade me to be otherwise,\"\nsaid she. \"I will act towards thee in such wise that thou needest\nnot be sorrowful, whether yonder knight live or die. Behold, a\ngood earldom, together with myself, will I bestow upon thee; be\ntherefore happy and joyful.\" \"I declare to Heaven,\" said she,\n\"that henceforth I shall never be joyful while I live.\" \"Come,\"\nsaid he, \"and eat.\" \"No, by Heaven, I will not.\" \"But, by Heaven,\nthou shalt,\" said he. So he took her with him to the table against\nher will, and many times desired her to eat. \"I call Heaven to\nwitness,\" said she, \"that I will not until the man that is upon\nyonder bier shall eat likewise.\" \"Thou canst not fulfil that,\"\nsaid the earl, \"yonder man is dead already.\" \"I will prove that I\ncan,\" said she. Then he offered her a goblet of liquor. \"Drink\nthis goblet,\" he said, \"and it will cause thee to change thy\nmind.\" \"Evil betide me,\" she answered, \"if I drink aught until he\ndrink also.\" \"Truly,\" said the earl, \"it is of no more avail for\nme to be gentle with thee than ungentle.\" And he gave her a box in\nthe ear. Thereupon she raised a loud and piercing shriek, and her\nlamentations were much greater than they had been before; for she\nconsidered in her mind, that, had Geraint been alive, he durst not\nhave struck her thus. But, behold, at the sound of her cry,\nGeraint revived from his swoon, and he sat upon the bier; and\nfinding his sword in the hollow of his shield, he rushed to the\nplace where the earl was, and struck him a fiercely-wounding,\nseverely-venomous, and sternly-smiting blow upon the crown of his\nhead, so that he clove him in twain, until his sword was staid by\nthe table. Then all left the board and fled away. And this was not\nso much through fear of the living, as through the dread they felt\nat seeing the dead man rise up to slay them. And Geraint looked\nupon Enid, and he was grieved for two causes; one was to see that\nEnid had lost her color and her wonted aspect; and the other, to\nknow that she was in the right. \"Lady,\" said he, \"knowest thou\nwhere our horses are?\" \"I know, lord, where thy horse is,\" she\nreplied, \"but I know not where is the other. Thy horse is in the\nhouse yonder.\" So he went to the house, and brought forth his\nhorse, and mounted him, and took up Enid, and placed her upon the\nhorse with him. And he rode forward. And their road lay between\ntwo hedges; and the night was gaining on the day. And lo! they saw\nbehind them the shafts of spears betwixt them and the sky, and\nthey heard the tramping of horses, and the noise of a host\napproaching. \"I hear something following us,\" said he, \"and I will\nput thee on the other side of the hedge.\" And thus he did. And\nthereupon, behold a knight pricked towards him, and couched his\nlance. When Enid saw this, she cried out, saying, \"O chieftain,\nwhoever thou art, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a dead\nman?\" \"O Heaven!\" said he, \"is it Geraint?\" \"Yes, in truth,\" said\nshe; \"and who art thou?\" \"I am Gwiffert Petit,\" said he, \"thy\nhusband's ally, coming to thy assistance, for I heard that thou\nwast in trouble. Come with me to the court of a son-in-law of my\nsister, which is near here, and thou shalt have the best medical\nassistance in the kingdom.\" \"I will do so gladly,\" said Geraint.\nAnd Enid was placed upon the horse of one of Gwiffert's squires,\nand they went forward to the baron's palace. And they were\nreceived there with gladness, and they met with hospitality and\nattention. The next morning they went to seek physicians; and it\nwas not long before they came, and they attended Geraint until he\nwas perfectly well. And while Geraint was under medical care\nGwiffert caused his armor to be repaired, until it was as good as\nit had ever been. And they remained there a month and a fortnight.\nThen they separated, and Geraint went towards his own dominions,\nand thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and his warlike fame and\nsplendor lasted with renown and honor, both to him and to Enid,\nfrom that time forward.\n\n[Footnote: Throughout the broad and varied region of romance it\nwould be difficult to find a character of greater simplicity and\ntruth than that of Enid, the daughter of Earl Ynywl. Conspicuous\nfor her beauty and noble bearing, we are at a loss whether more to\nadmire the patience with which she bore all the hardships she was\ndestined to undergo or the constancy and affection which finally\nachieved the truimph she so richly deserved.\n\nThe character of Enid is admirably sustained through the whole\ntale; and as it is more natural, because less overstrained, so\nperhaps it is even more touching than that of Griselda, over\nwhich, however, Chaucer has thrown a charm that leads us to forget\nthe improbability of her story.]\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nPWYLL, PRINCE OF DYVED\n\n\nOnce upon a time Pwyll was at Narberth, his chief palace, where a\nfeast had been prepared for him, and with him was a great host of\nmen. And after the first meal Pwyll arose to walk; and he went to\nthe top of a mound that was above the palace, and was called\nGorsedd Arberth. \"Lord,\" said one of the court, \"it is peculiar to\nthe mound that whosoever sits upon it cannot go thence without\neither receiving wounds or blows, or else seeing a wonder.\" \"I\nfear not to receive wounds or blows,\" said Pwyll; \"but as to the\nwonder, gladly would I see it. I will therefore go and sit upon\nthe mound.\"\n\nAnd upon the mound he sat. And while he sat there, they saw a\nlady, on a pure white horse of large size, with a garment of\nshining gold around her, coming along the highway that led from\nthe mound. \"My men,\" said Pwyll, \"is there any among you who knows\nyonder lady?\" \"There is not, lord,\" said they. \"Go one of you and\nmeet her, that we may know who she is.\" And one of them arose, and\nas he came upon the road to meet her, she passed by; and he\nfollowed as fast as he could, being on foot, and the greater was\nhis speed, the further was she from him. And when he saw that it\nprofited him nothing to follow her, he returned to Pwyll, and said\nunto him, \"Lord, it is idle for any one in the world to follow her\non foot.\" \"Verily,\" said Pwyll, \"go unto the palace, and take the\nfleetest horse that thou seest, and go after her.\"\n\nAnd he took a horse and went forward. And he came to an open,\nlevel plain, and put spurs to his horse; and the more he urged his\nhorse, the further was she from him. And he returned to the place\nwhere Pwyll was, and said, \"Lord, it will avail nothing for any\none to follow yonder lady. I know of no horse in these realms\nswifter than this, and it availed me not to pursue her.\" \"Of a\ntruth,\" said Pwyll, \"there must be some illusion here; let us go\ntowards the palace.\" So to the palace they went, and spent the\nday.\n\nAnd the next day they amused themselves until it was time to go to\nmeat. And when meat was ended, Pwyll said, \"Where are the hosts\nthat went yesterday to the top of the mound?\" \"Behold, lord, we\nare here,\" said they. \"Let us go,\" said he, \"to the mound, and sit\nthere. And do thou,\" said he to the page who tended his horse,\n\"saddle my horse well, and hasten with him to the road, and bring\nalso my spurs with thee.\" And the youth did thus. And they went\nand sat upon the mound; and ere they had been there but a short\ntime, they beheld the lady coming by the same road, and in the\nsame manner, and at the same pace. \"Young man,\" said Pwyll, \"I see\nthe lady coming; give me my horse.\" And before he had mounted his\nhorse she passed him. And he turned after her and followed her.\nAnd he let his horse go bounding playfully, and thought that he\nshould soon come up with her. But he came no nearer to her than at\nfirst. Then he urged his horse to his utmost speed, yet he found\nthat it availed not. Then said Pwyll, \"O maiden, for the sake of\nhim whom thou best lovest, stay for me.\" \"I will stay gladly,\"\nsaid she; \"and it were better for thy horse hadst thou asked it\nlong since.\" So the maiden stopped; and she threw back that part\nof her head-dress which covered her face. Then he thought that the\nbeauty of all the maidens and all the ladies that he had ever seen\nwas as nothing compared to her beauty. \"Lady,\" he said, \"wilt thou\ntell me aught concerning thy purpose?\" \"I will tell thee,\" said\nshe; \"my chief quest was to see thee.\" \"Truly,\" said Pwyll, \"this\nis to me the most pleasing quest on which thou couldst have come;\nand wilt thou tell me who thou art?\" \"I will tell thee, lord,\"\nsaid she. \"I am Rhiannon, the daughter of Heveydd, and they sought\nto give me a husband against my will. But no husband would I have,\nand that because of my love for thee; neither will I yet have one,\nunless thou reject me; and hither have I come to hear thy answer.\"\n\"By Heaven,\" said Pwyll, \"behold this is my answer. If I might\nchoose among all the ladies and damsels in the world, thee would I\nchoose.\" \"Verily,\" said she, \"if thou art thus minded, make a\npledge to meet me ere I am given to another.\" \"The sooner I may do\nso, the more pleasing will it be to me,\" said Pwyll; \"and\nwheresoever thou wilt, there will I meet with thee.\" \"I will that\nthou meet me this day twelvemonth at the palace of Heveydd.\"\n\"Gladly,\" said he, \"will I keep this tryst.\" So they parted, and\nhe went back to his hosts, and to them of his household. And\nwhatsoever questions they asked him respecting the damsel, he\nalways turned the discourse upon other matters.\n\nAnd when a year from that time was gone, he caused a hundred\nknights to equip themselves, and to go with him to the palace of\nHeveydd. And he came to the palace, and there was great joy\nconcerning him, with much concourse of people, and great\nrejoicing, and vast preparations for his coming. And the whole\ncourt was placed under his orders.\n\nAnd the hall was garnished, and they went to meat, and thus did\nthey sit: Heveydd was on one side of Pwyll, and Rhiannon on the\nother; and all the rest according to their rank. And they ate and\nfeasted, and talked one with another. And at the beginning of the\ncarousal after the meat, there entered a tall, auburn-haired\nyouth, of royal bearing, clothed in a garment of satin. And when\nhe came into the hall, he saluted Pwyll and his companions. \"The\ngreeting of Heaven be unto thee,\" said Pwyll; \"come thou and sit\ndown.\" \"Nay,\" said he, \"a suitor am I, and I will do my errand.\"\n\"Do so willingly,\" said Pwyll. \"Lord,\" said he, \"my errand is unto\nthee, and it is to crave a boon of thee that I come.\" \"What boon\nsoever thou mayest ask of me, so far as I am able, thou shalt\nhave.\" \"Ah!\" said Rhiannon, \"wherefore didst thou give that\nanswer?\" \"Has he not given it before the presence of these\nnobles?\" asked the youth. \"My soul,\" said Pwyll, \"what is the boon\nthou askest?\" \"The lady whom best I love is to be thy bride this\nnight; I come to ask her of thee, with the feast and the banquet\nthat are in this place.\" And Pwyll was silent, because of the\npromise which he had given. \"Be silent as long as thou wilt,\" said\nRhiannon, \"never did man make worse use of his wits than thou hast\ndone.\" \"Lady,\" said he, \"I knew not who he was.\" \"Behold, this is\nthe man to whom they would have given me against my will,\" said\nshe; \"and he is Gawl, the son of Clud, a man of great power and\nwealth, and because of the word thou hast spoken, bestow me upon\nhim, lest shame befall thee.\" \"Lady,\" said he, \"I understand not\nthy answer; never can I do as thou sayest.\" \"Bestow me upon him,\"\nsaid she, \"and I will cause that I shall never be his.\" \"By what\nmeans will that be?\" asked Pwyll. Then she told him the thought\nthat was in her mind. And they talked long together. Then Gawl\nsaid, \"Lord, it is meet that I have an answer to my request.\" \"As\nmuch of that thou hast asked as it is in my power to give, thou\nshalt have,\" replied Pwyll. \"My soul,\" said Rhiannon unto Gawl,\n\"as for the feast and the banquet that are here, I have bestowed\nthem upon the men of Dyved, and the household and the warriors\nthat are with us. These can I not suffer to be given to any. In a\nyear from to-night, a banquet shall be prepared for thee in this\npalace, that I may become thy bride.\"\n\nSo Gawl went forth to his possessions, and Pwyll went also back to\nDyved. And they both spent that year until it was the time for the\nfeast at the palace of Heveydd. Then Gawl, the son of Clud, set\nout to the feast that was prepared for him; and he came to the\npalace, and was received there with rejoicing. Pwyll, also, the\nchief of Dyved, came to the orchard with a hundred knights, as\nRhiannon had commanded him. And Pwyll was clad in coarse and\nragged garments, and wore large, clumsy old shoes upon his feet.\nAnd when he knew that the carousal after the meat had begun, he\nwent toward the hall; and when he came into the hall he saluted\nGawl, the son of Clud, and his company, both men and women.\n\"Heaven prosper thee,\" said Gawl, \"and friendly greeting be unto\nthee!\" \"Lord,\" said he, \"may Heaven reward thee! I have an errand\nunto thee.\" \"Welcome be thine errand, and if thou ask of me that\nwhich is right, thou shalt have it gladly.\" \"It is fitting,\"\nanswered he; \"I crave but from want, and the boon I ask is to have\nthis small bag that thou seest filled with meat.\" \"A request\nwithin reason is this,\" said he, \"and gladly shalt thou have it.\nBring him food.\" A great number of attendants arose and began to\nfill the bag; but for all they put into it, it was no fuller than\nat first. \"My soul,\" said Gawl, \"will thy bag ever be full?\" \"It\nwill not, I declare to Heaven,\" said he, \"for all that may be put\ninto it, unless one possessed of lands, and domains, and treasure,\nshall arise and tread down with both his feet the food that is\nwithin the bag, and shall say, 'Enough has been put therein.'\"\nThen said Rhiannon unto Gawl, the son of Clud, \"Rise up quickly.\"\n\"I will willingly arise,\" said he. So he rose up, and put his two\nfeet into the bag. And Pwyll turned up the sides of the bag, so\nthat Gawl was over his head in it. And he shut it up quickly, and\nslipped a knot upon the thongs, and blew his horn. And thereupon,\nbehold, his knights came down upon the palace. And they seized all\nthe host that had come with Gawl, and cast them into his own\nprison. And Pwyll threw off his rags, and his old shoes, and his\ntattered array. And as they came in, every one of Pwyll's knights\nstruck a blow upon the bag, and asked, \"What is here?\" \"A badger,\"\nsaid they. And in this manner they played, each of them striking\nthe bag, either with his foot or with a staff. And thus played\nthey with the bag. And then was the game of Badger in the Bag\nfirst played.\n\n\"Lord,\" said the man in the bag, \"if thou wouldst but hear me, I\nmerit not to be slain in a bag.\" Said Heveydd, \"Lord, he speaks\ntruth; it were fitting that thou listen to him, for he deserves\nnot this.\" \"Verily,\" said Pwyll, \"I will do thy counsel concerning\nhim.\" \"Behold, this is my counsel then,\" said Rhiannon. \"Thou art\nnow in a position in which it behooves thee to satisfy suitors and\nminstrels. Let him give unto them in thy stead, and take a pledge\nfrom him that he will never seek to revenge that which has been\ndone to him. And this will be punishment enough.\" \"I will do this\ngladly,\" said the man in the bag. \"And gladly will I accept it,\"\nsaid Pwyll, \"since it is the counsel of Heveydd and Rhiannon. Seek\nthyself sureties.\" \"We will be for him,\" said Heveydd, \"until his\nmen be free to answer for him.\" And upon this he was let out of\nthe bag, and his liegemen were liberated. \"Verily, lord,\" said\nGawl, \"I am greatly hurt, and I have many bruises. With thy leave,\nI will go forth. I will leave nobles in my stead to answer for me\nin all that thou shalt require.\" \"Willingly,\" said Pwyll, \"mayest\nthou do this.\" So Gawl went to his own possessions.\n\nAnd the hall was set in order for Pwyll and the men of his host,\nand for them also of the palace, and they went to the tables and\nsat down. And as they had sat that time twelvemonth, so sat they\nthat night. And they ate and feasted, and spent the night in mirth\nand tranquility. And the time came that they should sleep, and\nPwyll and Rhiannon went to their chamber.\n\nAnd next morning at break of day, \"My lord,\" said Rhiannon, \"arise\nand begin to give thy gifts unto the minstrels. Refuse no one to-\nday that may claim thy bounty.\" \"Thus shall it be gladly,\" said\nPwyll, \"both to-day and every day while the feast shall last.\" So\nPwyll arose, and he caused silence to be proclaimed, and desired\nall the suitors and minstrels to show and to point out what gifts\nthey desired. And this being done, the feast went on, and he\ndenied no one while it lasted. And when the feast was ended, Pwyll\nsaid unto Heveydd, \"My lord, with thy permission, I will set out\nfor Dyved to-morrow.\" \"Certainly,\" said Heveydd; \"may Heaven\nprosper thee! Fix also a time when Rhiannon shall follow thee.\"\n\"By Heaven,\" said Pwyll, \"we will go hence together.\" \"Willest\nthou this, lord?\" said Heveydd. \"Yes, lord,\" answered Pwyll.\n\nAnd the next, day they set forward towards Dyved, and journeyed to\nthe palace of Narberth, where a feast was made ready for them. And\nthere came to them great numbers of the chief men and the most\nnoble ladies of the land, and of these there were none to whom\nRhiannon did not give some rich gift, either a bracelet, or a\nring, or a precious stone. And they ruled the land prosperously\nthat year and the next.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nBRANWEN, THE DAUGHTER OF LLYR\n\n\nBendigeid Vran, the son of Llyr, was the crowned king of this\nisland, and he was exalted from the crown of London. And one\nafternoon he was at Harlech, in Ardudwy, at his court; and he sat\nupon the rock of Harlech, looking over the sea. And with him were\nhis brother, Manawyddan, the son of Llyr, and his brothers by the\nmother's side, Nissyen and Evnissyen, and many nobles likewise, as\nwas fitting to see around a king. His two brothers by the mother's\nside were the sons of Euroswydd, and one of these youths was a\ngood youth, and of gentle nature, and would make peace between his\nkindred, and cause his family to be friends when their wrath was\nat the highest, and this one was Nissyen; but the other would\ncause strife between his two brothers when they were most at\npeace. And as they sat thus they beheld thirteen ships coming from\nthe south of Ireland, and making towards them; and they came with\na swift motion, the wind being behind them; and they neared them\nrapidly. \"I see ships afar,\" said the king, \"coming swiftly\ntowards the land. Command the men of the court that they equip\nthemselves, and go and learn their intent.\" So the men equipped\nthemselves, and went down towards them. And when they saw the\nships near, certain were they that they had never seen ships\nbetter furnished. Beautiful flags of satin were upon them. And,\nbehold, one of the ships outstripped the others, and they saw a\nshield lifted up above the side of the ship, and the point of the\nshield was upwards, in token of peace. And the men drew near, that\nthey might hold converse. Then they put out boats, and came toward\nthe land. And they saluted the king. Now the king could hear them\nfrom the place where he was upon the rock above their heads.\n\"Heaven prosper you.\" said he, \"and be ye welcome! To whom do\nthese ships belong, and who is the chief amongst you?\" \"Lord,\"\nsaid they, \"Matholch, king of Ireland, is here, and these ships\nbelong to him.\" \"Wherefore comes he?\" asked the king, \"and will he\ncome to the land?\" \"He is a suitor unto thee, lord,\" said they,\n\"and he will not land unless he have his boon.\" \"And what may that\nbe?\" inquired the king. \"He desires to ally himself, lord, with\nthee,\" said they, \"and he comes to ask Branwen, the daughter of\nLlyr, that, if it seem well to thee, the Island of the Mighty\n[Footnote: The Island of the Mighty is one of the many names\nbestowed upon Britain by the Welsh.] may be leagued with Ireland,\nand both become more powerful.\" \"Verily,\" said he, \"let him come\nto land, and we will take counsel thereupon.\" And this answer was\nbrought to Matholch. \"I will go willingly,\" said he. So he landed,\nand they received him joyfully; and great was the throng in the\npalace that night, between his hosts and those of the court; and\nnext day they took counsel, and they resolved to bestow Branwen\nupon Matholch. Now she was one of the three chief ladies of this\nisland, and she was the fairest damsel in the world.\n\nAnd they fixed upon Aberfraw as the place where she should become\nhis bride. And they went thence, and towards Aberfraw the hosts\nproceeded, Matholch and his host in their ships, Bendigeid Vran\nand his host by land, until they came to Aberfraw. And at Aberfraw\nthey began the feast, and sat down. And thus sat they: the king of\nthe Island of the Mighty and Manawyddan, the son of Llyr, on one\nside, and Matholch on the other side, and Branwen, the daughter of\nLlyr, beside him. And they were not within a house, but under\ntents. No house could ever contain Bendigeid Vran. And they began\nthe banquet, and caroused and discoursed. And when it was more\npleasing to them to sleep than to carouse, they went to rest, and\nBranwen became Matholch's bride.\n\nAnd next day they arose, and all they of the court, and the\nofficers began to equip, and to range the horses and the\nattendants, and they ranged them in order as far as the sea.\n\nAnd, behold, one day Evnissyen, the quarrelsome man, of whom it is\nspoken above, came by chance into the place where the horses of\nMatholch were, and asked whose horses they might be. \"They are the\nhorses of Matholch, king of Ireland, who is married to Branwen,\nthy sister; his horses are they.\" \"And is it thus they have done\nwith a maiden such as she, and moreover my sister, bestowing her\nwithout my consent? They could have offered no greater insult to\nme than this,\" said he. And thereupon he rushed under the horses,\nand cut off their lips at the teeth, and their ears close to their\nheads, and their tails close to their backs; and he disfigured the\nhorses, and rendered them useless.\n\nAnd they came with these tidings unto Matholch, saying that the\nhorses were disfigured and injured, so that not one of them could\never be of any use again. \"Verily, lord,\" said one, \"it was an\ninsult unto thee, and as such was it meant.\" \"Of a truth, it is a\nmarvel to me that, if they desire to insult me, they should have\ngiven me a maiden of such high rank, and so much beloved of her\nkindred, as they have done.\" \"Lord,\" said another, \"thou seest\nthat thus it is, and there is nothing for thee to do but to go to\nthy ships.\" And thereupon towards his ships he set out.\n\nAnd tidings came to Bendigeid Vran that Matholch was quitting the\ncourt without asking leave, and messengers were sent to inquire of\nhim wherefore he did so. And the messengers that went were Iddic,\nthe son of Anarawd, and Heveyd Hir. And these overtook him, and\nasked of him what he designed to do, and wherefore he went forth.\n\"Of a truth,\" said he, \"if I had known, I had not come hither. I\nhave been altogether insulted; no one had ever worse treatment\nthan I have had here.\" \"Truly, lord, it was not the will of any\nthat are of the court,\" said they, \"nor of any that are of the\ncouncil, that thou shouldst have received this insult; and as thou\nhast been insulted, the dishonor is greater unto Bendigeid Vran\nthan unto thee.\" \"Verily,\" said he, \"I think so. Nevertheless, he\ncannot recall the insult.\" These men returned with that answer to\nthe place where Bendigeid Vran was, and they told him what reply\nMatholch had given them. \"Truly,\" said he, \"there are no means by\nwhich we may prevent his going away at enmity with us that we will\nnot take.\" \"Well, lord,\" said they, \"send after him another\nembassy.\" \"I will do so,\" said he. \"Arise, Manawyddan, son of\nLlyr, and Heveyd Hir, and go after him, and tell him that he shall\nhave a sound horse for every one that has been injured. And beside\nthat, as an atonement for the insult, he shall have a staff of\nsilver as large and as tall as himself, and a plate of gold of the\nbreadth of his face. And show unto him who it was that did this,\nand that it was done against my will; but that he who did it is my\nbrother, and therefore it would be hard for me to put him to\ndeath. And let him come and meet me,\" said he, \"and we will make\npeace in any way he may desire.\"\n\nThe embassy went after Matholch, and told him all these sayings in\na friendly manner; and he listened thereunto. \"Men,\" said he, \"I\nwill take counsel.\" So to the council he went. And in the council\nthey considered that, if they should refuse this, they were likely\nto have more shame rather than to obtain so great an atonement.\nThey resolved, therefore, to accept it, and they returned to the\ncourt in peace.\n\nThen the pavilions and the tents were set in order, after the\nfashion of a hall; and they went to meat, and as they had sat at\nthe beginning of the feast so sat they there. And Matholch and\nBendigeid Vran began to discourse; and, behold, it seemed to\nBendigeid Vran, while they talked, that Matholch was not so\ncheerful as he had been before. And he thought that the chieftain\nmight be sad because of the smallness of the atonement which he\nhad for the wrong that had been done him. \"O man,\" said Bendigeid\nVran, \"thou dost not discourse to-night so cheerfully as thou wast\nwont. And if it be because of the smallness of the atonement, thou\nshalt add thereunto whatsoever thou mayest choose, and to-morrow I\nwill pay thee for the horses.\" \"Lord,\" said he, \"Heaven reward\nthee!\" \"And I will enhance the atonement,\" said Bendigeid Vran,\n\"for I will give unto thee a caldron, the property of which is,\nthat if one of thy men be slain to-day, and be cast therein, to-\nmorrow he will be as well as ever he was at the best, except that\nhe will not regain his speech.\" And thereupon he gave him great\nthanks, and very joyful was he for that cause.\n\nThat night they continued to discourse as much as they would, and\nhad minstrelsy and carousing; and when it was more pleasant to\nthem to sleep than to sit longer, they went to rest. And thus was\nthe banquet carried on with joyousness; and when it was finished,\nMatholch journeyed towards Ireland, and Branwen with him; and they\nwent from Aber Menei with thirteen ships, and came to Ireland. And\nin Ireland was there great joy because of their coming. And not\none great man nor noble lady visited Branwen unto whom she gave\nnot either a clasp or a ring, or a royal jewel to keep, such as it\nwas honorable to be seen departing with. And in these things she\nspent that year in much renown, and she passed her time\npleasantly, enjoying honor and friendship. And in due time a son\nwas born unto her, and the name that they gave him was Gwern, the\nson of Matholch, and they put the boy out to be nursed in a place\nwhere were the best men of Ireland.\n\nAnd, behold, in the second year a tumult arose in Ireland, on\naccount of the insult which Matholch had received in Wales, and\nthe payment made him for his horses. And his foster-brothers, and\nsuch as were nearest to him, blamed him openly for that matter.\nAnd he might have no peace by reason of the tumult, until they\nshould revenge upon him this disgrace. And the vengeance which\nthey took was to drive away Branwen from the same chamber with\nhim, and to make her cook for the court; and they caused the\nbutcher, after he had cut up the meat, to come to her and give her\nevery day a blow on the ear; and such they made her punishment.\n\n\"Verily, lord,\" said his men to Matholch, \"forbid now the ships\nand the ferry-boats, and the coracles, that they go not into\nWales, and such as come over from Wales hither, imprison them,\nthat they go not back for this thing to be known there.\" And he\ndid so; and it was thus for no less than three years.\n\nAnd Branwen reared a starling in the cover of the kneading-trough,\nand she taught it to speak, and she taught the bird what manner of\nman her brother was. And she wrote a letter of her woes, and the\ndespite with which she was treated, and she bound the letter to\nthe root of the bird's wing, and sent it toward Wales. And the\nbird came to that island; and one day it found Bendigeid Vran at\nCaer Seiont in Arvon, conferring there, and it alighted upon his\nshoulder, and ruffled its feathers, so that the letter was seen,\nand they knew that the bird had been reared in a domestic manner.\n\nThen Bendigeid Vran took the letter and looked upon it. And when\nhe had read the letter, he grieved exceedingly at the tidings of\nBranwen's woes. And immediately he began sending messengers to\nsummon the island together. And he caused seven-score and four of\nhis chief men to come unto him, and he complained to them of the\ngrief that his sister endured. So they took counsel. And in the\ncounsel they resolved to go to Ireland, and to leave seven men as\nprinces at home, and Caradoc, [Footnote: Caractacus.] the son of\nBran, as the chief of them.\n\nBendigeid Vran, with the host of which we spoke, sailed towards\nIreland; and it was not far across the sea, and he came to shoal\nwater. Now the swine-herds of Matholch were upon the sea-shore,\nand they came to Matholch. \"Lord,\" said they, \"greeting be unto\nthee.\" \"Heaven protect you!\" said he; \"have you any news?\" \"Lord,\"\nsaid they, \"we have marvellous news. A wood have we seen upon the\nsea, in a place where we never yet saw a single tree.\" \"This is\nindeed a marvel,\" said he; \"saw you aught else?\" \"We saw, lord,\"\nsaid they, \"a vast mountain beside the wood, which moved, and\nthere was a lofty ridge on the top of the mountain, and a lake on\neach side of the ridge. And the wood and the mountain, and all\nthese things, moved.\" \"Verily,\" said he, \"there is none who can\nknow aught concerning this unless it be Branwen.\"\n\nMessengers then went unto Branwen. \"Lady,\" said they, \"what\nthinkest thou that this is?\" \"The men of the Island of the Mighty,\nwho have come hither on hearing of my ill-treatment and of my\nwoes.\" \"What is the forest that is seen upon the sea?\" asked they.\n\"The yards and the masts of ships,\" she answered. \"Alas!\" said\nthey; \"what is the mountain that is seen by the side of the\nships?\" \"Bendigeid Vran, my brother,\" she replied, \"coming to\nshoal water, and he is wading to the land.\" \"What is the lofty\nridge, with the lake on each side thereof?\" \"On looking towards\nthis island he is wroth, and his two eyes on each side of his nose\nare the two lakes on each side of the ridge.\"\n\nThe warriors and chief men of Ireland were brought together in\nhaste, and they took counsel. \"Lord,\" said the neighbors unto\nMatholch, \"there is no other counsel than this alone. Thou shalt\ngive the kingdom to Gwern, the son of Branwen his sister, as a\ncompensation for the wrong and despite that have been done unto\nBranwen. And he will make peace with thee.\" And in the council it\nwas resolved that this message should be sent to Bendigeid Vran,\nlest the country should be destroyed. And this peace was made. And\nMatholch caused a great house to be built for Bendigeid Vran, and\nhis host. Thereupon came the hosts into the house. The men of the\nisland of Ireland entered the house on the one side, and the men\nof the Island of the Mighty on the other. And as soon as they had\nsat down, there was concord between them; and the sovereignty was\nconferred upon the boy. When the peace was concluded, Bendigeid\nVran called the boy unto him, and from Bendigeid Vran the boy went\nunto Manawyddan; and he was beloved by all that beheld him. And\nfrom Manawyddan the boy was called by Nissyen, the son of\nEuroswydd, and the boy went unto him lovingly. \"Wherefore,\" said\nEvnissyen, \"comes not my nephew, the son of my sister, unto me?\nThough he were not king of Ireland, yet willingly would I fondle\nthe boy.\" \"Cheerfully let him go to thee,\" said Bendigeid Vran;\nand the boy went unto him cheerfully. \"By my confession to\nHeaven,\" said Evnissyen in his heart, \"unthought of is the\nslaughter that I will this instant commit.\"\n\nThen he arose and took up the boy, and before any one in the house\ncould seize hold of him he thrust the boy headlong into the\nblazing fire. And when Branwen saw her son burning in the fire,\nshe strove to leap into the fire also, from the place where she\nsat between her two brothers. But Bendigeid Vran grasped her with\none hand, and his shield with the other. Then they all hurried\nabout the house, and never was there made so great a tumult by any\nhost in one house as was made by them, as each man armed himself.\nAnd while they all sought their arms Bendigeid Vran supported\nBranwen between his shield and his shoulder. And they fought.\n\nThen the Irish kindled a fire under the caldron of renovation, and\nthey cast the dead bodies into the caldron until it was full; and\nthe next day they came forth fighting men, as good as before,\nexcept that they were not able to speak. Then when Evnissyen saw\nthe dead bodies of the men of the Island of the Mighty nowhere\nresuscitated, he said in his heart, \"Alas! woe is me, that I\nshould have been the cause of bringing the men of the Island of\nthe Mighty into so great a strait. Evil betide me if I find not a\ndeliverance therefrom.\" And he cast himself among the dead bodies\nof the Irish; and two unshod Irishmen came to him, and, taking him\nto be one of the Irish, flung him into the caldron. And he\nstretched himself out in the caldron, so that he rent the caldron\ninto four pieces, and burst his own heart also.\n\nIn consequence of this, the men of the Island of the Mighty\nobtained such success as they had; but they were not victorious,\nfor only seven men of them all escaped, and Bendigeid Vran himself\nwas wounded in the foot with a poisoned dart. Now the men that\nescaped were Pryderi, Manawyddan, Taliesin, and four others.\n\nAnd Bendigeid Vran commanded them that they should cut off his\nhead. \"And take you my head,\" said he, \"and bear it even unto the\nWhite Mount in London, and bury it there with the face towards\nFrance. And so long as it lies there, no enemy shall ever land on\nthe island.\" So they cut off his head, and these seven went\nforward therewith. And Branwen was the eighth with them. And they\ncame to land on Aber Alaw, and they sat down to rest. And Branwen\nlooked towards Ireland, and towards the Island of the Mighty, to\nsee if she could descry them. \"Alas!\" said she, \"woe is me that I\nwas ever born; two islands have been destroyed because of me.\"\nThen she uttered a groan, and there broke her heart. And they made\nher a four-sided grave, and buried her upon the banks of the Alaw.\n\nThen the seven men journeyed forward, bearing the head with them;\nand as they went, behold there met them a multitude of men and\nwomen. \"Have you any tidings?\" said Manawyddan. \"We have none,\"\nsaid they, \"save that Caswallawn, [Footnote: Cassivellaunus.] the\nson of Beli, has conquered the Island of the Mighty, and is\ncrowned king in London.\" \"What has become,\" said they, \"of\nCaradoc, the son of Bran, and the seven men who were left with him\nin this island?\" \"Caswallawn came upon them, and slew six of the\nmen, and Caradoc's heart broke for grief thereof.\" And the seven\nmen journeyed on towards London, and they buried the head in the\nWhite Mount, as Bendigeid Vran had directed them. [Footnote: There\nis a Triad upon the story of the head buried under the White Tower\nof London, as a charm against invasion. Arthur, it seems, proudly\ndisinterred the head, preferring to hold the island by his own\nstrength alone.]\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nMANAWYDDAN\n\n\nPwyll and Rhiannon had a son, whom they named Pryderi. And when he\nwas grown up, Pwyll, his father, died. And Pryderi married Kicva,\nthe daughter of Gwynn Gloy.\n\nNow Manawyddan returned from the war in Ireland, and he found that\nhis cousin had seized all his possessions, and much grief and\nheaviness came upon him. \"Alas! woe is me!\" he exclaimed; \"there\nis none save myself without a home and a resting-place.\" \"Lord,\"\nsaid Pryderi, \"be not so sorrowful. Thy cousin is king of the\nIsland of the Mighty, and though he has done thee wrong, thou hast\nnever been a claimant of land or possessions.\" \"Yea,\" answered he,\n\"but although this man is my cousin, it grieveth me to see any one\nin the place of my brother, Bendigeid Vran; neither can I be happy\nin the same dwelling with him.\" \"Wilt thou follow the counsel of\nanother?\" said Pryderi. \"I stand in need of counsel,\" he answered,\n\"and what may that counsel be?\" \"Seven cantrevs belong unto me,\"\nsaid Pryderi, \"wherein Rhiannon, my mother, dwells. I will bestow\nher upon thee, and the seven cantrevs with her; and though thou\nhadst no possessions but those cantrevs only, thou couldst not\nhave any fairer than they. Do thou and Rhiannon enjoy them, and if\nthou desire any possessions thou wilt not despise these.\" \"I do\nnot, chieftain,\" said he. \"Heaven reward thee for the friendship!\nI will go with thee to seek Rhiannon, and to look at thy\npossessions.\" \"Thou wilt do well,\" he answered; \"and I believe\nthat thou didst never hear a lady discourse better than she, and\nwhen she was in her prime, none was ever fairer. Even now her\naspect is not uncomely.\"\n\nThey set forth, and, however long the journey, they came at last\nto Dyved; and a feast was prepared for them by Rhiannon and Kicva.\nThen began Manawyddan and Rhiannon to sit and to talk together;\nand his mind and his thoughts became warmed towards her, and he\nthought in his heart he had never beheld any lady more fulfilled\nof grace and beauty than she. \"Pryderi,\" said he, \"I will that it\nbe as thou didst say.\" \"What saying was that?\" asked Rhiannon.\n\"Lady,\" said Pryderi, \"I did offer thee as a wife to Manawyddan,\nthe son of Llyr.\" \"By that will I gladly abide,\" said Rhiannon.\n\"Right glad am I also,\" said Manawyddan, \"may Heaven reward him\nwho hath shown unto me friendship so perfect as this!\"\n\nAnd before the feast was over she became his bride. Said Pryderi,\n\"Tarry ye here the rest of the feast, and I will go into England\nto tender my homage unto Caswallawn, the son of Beli.\" \"Lord,\"\nsaid Rhiannon, \"Caswallawn is in Kent; thou mayest therefore tarry\nat the feast, and wait until he shall be nearer.\" \"We will wait,\"\nhe answered. So they finished the feast. And they began to make\nthe circuit of Dyved, and to hunt, and to take their pleasure. And\nas they went through the country, they had never seen lands more\npleasant to live in, nor better hunting grounds, nor greater\nplenty of honey and fish. And such was the friendship between\nthese four, that they would not be parted from each other by night\nnor by day.\n\nAnd in the midst of all this he went to Caswallawn at Oxford, and\ntendered his homage; and honorable was his reception there, and\nhighly was he praised for offering his homage.\n\nAnd after his return Pryderi and Manawyddan feasted and took their\nease and pleasure. And they began a feast at Narberth, for it was\nthe chief palace. And when they had ended the first meal, while\nthose who served them ate, they arose and went forth, and\nproceeded to the Gorsedd, that is, the Mount of Narberth, and\ntheir retinue with them. And as they sat thus, behold a peal of\nthunder, and with the violence of the thunder-storm, lo! there\ncame a fall of mist, so thick that not one of them could see the\nother. And after the mist it became light all around. And when\nthey looked towards the place where they were wont to see the\ncattle and herds and dwellings, they saw nothing now, neither\nhouse, nor beast, nor smoke, nor fire, nor man, nor dwelling, but\nthe buildings of the court empty, and desert, and uninhabited,\nwithout either man or beast within them. And truly all their\ncompanions were lost to them, without their knowing aught of what\nhad befallen them, save those four only.\n\n\"In the name of Heaven,\" said Manawyddan, \"where are they of the\ncourt, and all my host beside? Let us go and see.\"\n\nSo they came to the castle, and saw no man, and into the hall, and\nto the sleeping-place, and there was none; and in the mead-cellar\nand in the kitchen there was naught but desolation. Then they\nbegan to go through the land, and all the possessions that they\nhad; and they visited the houses and dwellings, and found nothing\nbut wild beasts. And when they had consumed their feast and all\ntheir provisions, they fed upon the prey they killed in hunting,\nand the honey of the wild swans.\n\nAnd one morning Pryderi and Manawyddan rose up to hunt, and they\nranged their dogs and went forth. And some of the dogs ran before\nthem, and came to a bush which was near at hand; but as soon as\nthey were come to the bush, they hastily drew back, and returned\nto the men, their hair bristling up greatly. \"Let us go near to\nthe bush,\" said Pryderi, \"and see what is in it.\" And as they came\nnear, behold, a wild boar of a pure white color rose up from the\nbush. Then the dogs, being set on by the men, rushed towards him;\nbut he left the bush, and fell back a little way from the men, and\nmade a stand against the dogs, without retreating from them, until\nthe men had come near. And when the men came up, he fell back a\nsecond time, and betook him to flight. Then they pursued the boar\nuntil they beheld a vast and lofty castle, all newly built, in a\nplace where they had never before seen either stone or building.\nAnd the boar ran swiftly into the castle, and the dogs after him.\nNow when the boar and the dogs had gone into the castle, the men\nbegan to wonder at finding a castle in a place where they had\nnever before seen any building whatsoever. And from the top of the\nGorsedd they looked and listened for the dogs. But so long as they\nwere there, they heard not one of the dogs, nor aught concerning\nthem.\n\n\"Lord,\" said Pryderi, \"I will go into the castle to get tidings of\nthe dogs.\" \"Truly,\" he replied, \"thou wouldst be unwise to go into\nthis castle, which thou hast never seen till now. If thou wouldst\nfollow my counsel, thou wouldst not enter therein. Whosoever has\ncast a spell over this land, has caused this castle to be here.\"\n\"Of a truth,\" answered Pryderi, \"I cannot thus give up my dogs.\"\nAnd for all the counsel that Manawyddan gave him, yet to the\ncastle he went.\n\nWhen he came within the castle, neither man nor beast, nor boar,\nnor dogs, nor house, nor dwelling, saw he within it. But in the\ncentre of the castle-floor he beheld a fountain with marble-work\naround it, and on the margin of the fountain a golden bowl upon a\nmarble slab, and chains hanging from the air, to which he saw no\nend.\n\nAnd he was greatly pleased with the beauty of the gold, and with\nthe rich workmanship of the bowl; and he went up to the bowl, and\nlaid hold of it. And when he had taken hold of its his hands stuck\nto the bowl, and his feet to the slab on which the bowl was\nplaced; and all his joyousness forsook him, so that he could not\nutter a word. And thus he stood.\n\nAnd Manawyddan waited for him till near the close of the day. And\nlate in the evening, being certain that he should have no tidings\nof Pryderi or the dogs, he went back to the palace. And as he\nentered, Rhiannon looked at him. \"Where,\" said she, \"are thy\ncompanion and thy dogs?\" \"Behold,\" he answered, \"the adventure\nthat has befallen me.\" And he related it all unto her. \"An evil\ncompanion hast thou been,\" said Rhiannon, \"and a good companion\nhast thou lost.\" And with that word she went out, and proceeded\ntowards the castle, according to the direction which he gave her.\nThe gate of the castle she found open. She was nothing daunted,\nand she went in. And as she went in, she perceived Pryderi laying\nhold of the bowl, and she went towards him. \"O my lord,\" said she,\n\"what dost thou here?\" And she took hold of the bowl with him; and\nas she did so, her hands also became fast to the bowl, and her\nfeet to the slab, and she was not able to utter a word. And with\nthat, as it became night, lo! there came thunder upon them, and a\nfall of mist; and thereupon the castle vanished, and they with it.\n\nWhen Kicva, the daughter of Gwynn Gloy, saw that there was no one\nin the palace but herself and Manawyddan, she sorrowed so that she\ncared not whether she lived or died. And Manawyddan saw this.\n\"Thou art in the wrong,\" said he, \"if through fear of me thou\ngrievest thus. I call Heaven to witness that thou hast never seen\nfriendship more pure than that which I will bear thee as long as\nHeaven will that thou shouldst be thus. I declare to thee, that,\nwere I in the dawn of youth, I would keep my faith unto Pryderi,\nand unto thee also will I keep it. Be there no fear upon thee,\ntherefore.\" \"Heaven reward thee!\" she said; \"and that is what I\ndeemed of thee.\" And the damsel thereupon took courage, and was\nglad.\n\n\"Truly, lady,\" said Manawyddan, \"it is not fitting for us to stay\nhere; we have lost our dogs, and cannot get food. Let us go into\nEngland; it is easiest for us to find support there.\" \"Gladly,\nlord,\" said she, \"we will do so.\" And they set forth together to\nEngland.\n\n\"Lord,\" said she, \"what craft wilt thou follow? Take up one that\nis seemly.\" \"None other will I take,\" answered he, \"but that of\nmaking shoes.\" \"Lord,\" said she, \"such a craft becomes not a man\nso nobly born as thou.\" \"By that however will I abide,\" said he.\n\"I know nothing thereof,\" said Kicva. \"But I know,\" answered\nManawyddan, \"and I will teach thee to stitch. We will not attempt\nto dress the leather, but we will buy it ready dressed, and will\nmake the shoes from it.\"\n\nSo they went into England, and went as far as Hereford; and they\nbetook themselves to making shoes. And he began by buying the best\ncordwain that could be had in the town, and none other would buy.\nAnd he associated himself with the best goldsmith in the town, and\ncaused him to make clasps for the shoes, and to gild the clasps;\nand he marked how it was done until he learned the method. And\ntherefore is he called one of the three makers of gold shoes. And\nwhen they could be had from him, not a shoe nor hose was bought of\nany of the cordwainers in the town. But when the cordwainers\nperceived that their gains were failing (for as Manawyddan shaped\nthe work, so Kicva stitched it), they came together and took\ncounsel, and agreed that they would slay them. And he had warning\nthereof, and it was told him how the cordwainers had agreed\ntogether to slay him.\n\n\"Lord,\" said Kicva, \"wherefore should this be borne from these\nboors?\" \"Nay,\" said he, \"we will go back unto Dyved.\" So towards\nDyved they set forth.\n\nNow Manawyddan, when he set out to return to Dyved, took with him\na burden of wheat. And he proceeded towards Narberth, and there he\ndwelt. And never was he better pleased than when he saw Narberth\nagain, and the lands where he had been wont to hunt with Pryderi\nand with Rhiannon. And he accustomed himself to fish, and to hunt\nthe deer in their covert. And then he began to prepare some\nground, and he sowed a croft, and a second, and a third. And no\nwheat in the world ever sprung up better. And the three crofts\nprospered with perfect growth, and no man ever saw fairer wheat\nthan it.\n\nAnd thus passed the seasons of the year until the harvest came.\nAnd he went to look at one of his crofts, and, behold, it was\nripe. \"I will reap this to-morrow,\" said he. And that night he\nwent back to Narberth, and on the morrow, in the gray dawn, he\nwent to reap the croft; and when he came there, he found nothing\nbut the bare straw. Every one of the ears of the wheat was cut off\nfrom the stalk, and all the ears carried entirely away, and\nnothing but the straw left. And at this he marvelled greatly.\n\nThen he went to look at another croft, and, behold, that also was\nripe. \"Verily,\" said he, \"this will I reap to-morrow.\" And on the\nmorrow he came with the intent to reap it; and when he came there,\nhe found nothing but the bare straw. \"O gracious Heaven!\" he\nexclaimed. \"I know that whosoever has begun my ruin is completing\nit, and has also destroyed the country with me.\"\n\nThen he went to look at the third croft; and when he came there,\nfiner wheat had there never been seen, and this also was ripe.\n\"Evil betide me,\" said he, \"if I watch not here to-night. Whoever\ncarried off the other corn will come in like manner to take this,\nand I will know who it is.\" And he told Kicva all that had\nbefallen. \"Verily,\" said she, \"what thinkest thou to do?\" \"I will\nwatch the croft to-night,\" said he. And he went to watch the\ncroft.\n\nAnd at midnight he heard something stirring among the wheat; and\nhe looked, and behold, the mightiest host of mice in the world,\nwhich could neither be numbered nor measured. And he knew not what\nit was until the mice had made their way into the croft, and each\nof them, climbing up the straw, and bending it down with its\nweight, had cut off one of the ears of wheat, and had carried it\naway, leaving there the stalk; and he saw not a single straw there\nthat had not a mouse to it. And they all took their way, carrying\nthe ears with them.\n\nIn wrath and anger did he rush upon the mice; but he could no more\ncome up with them than if they had been gnats or birds of the air,\nexcept one only, which, though it was but sluggish, went so fast\nthat a man on foot could scarce overtake it. And after this one he\nwent, and he caught it, and put it in his glove, and tied up the\nopening of the glove with a string, and kept it with him, and\nreturned to the palace. Then he came to the hall where Kicva was,\nand he lighted a fire, and hung the glove by the string upon a\npeg. \"What hast thou there, lord?\" said Kicva. \"A thief,\" said he,\n\"that I found robbing me.\" \"What kind of a thief may it be, lord,\nthat thou couldst put into thy glove?\" said she. Then he told her\nhow the mice came to the last of the fields in his sight. \"And one\nof them was less nimble than the rest, and is now in my glove; to-\nmorrow I will hang it.\" \"My lord,\" said she, \"this is marvellous;\nbut yet it would be unseemly for a man of dignity like thee to be\nhanging such a reptile as this.\" \"Woe betide me,\" said he, \"if I\nwould not hang them all, could I catch them, and such as I have I\nwill hang.\" \"Verily, lord,\" said she, \"there is no reason that I\nshould succor this reptile, except to prevent discredit unto thee.\nDo therefore, lord, as thou wilt.\"\n\nThen he went to the Mound of Narberth, taking the mouse with him.\nAnd he set up two forks on the highest part of the mound. And\nwhile he was doing this, behold, he saw a scholar coming towards\nhim, in old and poor and tattered garments. And it was now seven\nyears since he had seen in that place either man or beast, except\nthose four persons who had remained together until two of them\nwere lost.\n\n\"My lord,\" said the scholar, \"good-day to thee.\" \"Heaven prosper\nthee, and my greeting be unto thee! And whence dost thou come,\nscholar?\" asked he. \"I come, lord, from singing in England; and\nwherefore dost thou inquire?\" \"Because for the last seven years,\"\nanswered he, \"I have seen no man here save four secluded persons,\nand thyself this moment.\" \"Truly, lord,\" said he, \"I go through\nthis land unto mine own. And what work art thou upon, lord?\" \"I am\nhanging a thief that I caught robbing me,\" said he. \"What manner\nof thief is that?\" asked the scholar. \"I see a creature in thy\nhand like unto a mouse, and ill does it become a man of rank equal\nto thine to touch a reptile such as this. Let it go forth free.\"\n\"I will not let it go free, by Heaven,\" said he; \"I caught it\nrobbing me, and the doom of a thief will I inflict upon it, and I\nwill hang it.\" \"Lord,\" said he, \"rather than see a man of rank\nequal to thine at such a work as this, I would give thee a pound,\nwhich I have received as alms, to let the reptile go forth free.\"\n\"I will not let it go free,\" said he, \"neither will I sell it.\"\n\"As thou wilt, lord,\" he answered; \"I care naught.\" And the\nscholar went his way.\n\nAnd as he was placing the cross-beam upon the two forks, behold, a\npriest came towards him, upon a horse covered with trappings.\n\"Good day to thee, lord,\" said he. \"Heaven prosper thee!\" said\nManawyddan; \"thy blessing.\" \"The blessing of Heaven be upon thee!\nAnd what, lord, art thou doing?\" \"I am hanging a thief that I\ncaught robbing me,\" said he. \"What manner of thief, lord?\" asked\nhe. \"A creature,\" he answered, \"in form of a mouse. It has been\nrobbing me, and I am inflicting upon it the doom of a thief.\"\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"rather than see thee touch this reptile, I would\npurchase its freedom.\" \"By my confession to Heaven, neither will I\nsell it nor set it free.\" \"It is true, lord, that it is worth\nnothing to buy; but rather than see thee defile thyself by\ntouching such a reptile as this, I will give thee three pounds to\nlet it go.\" \"I will not, by Heaven,\" said he, \"take any price for\nit. As it ought, so shall it be hanged.\" And the priest went his\nway.\n\nThen he noosed the string around the mouse's neck, and as he was\nabout to draw it up, behold, he saw a bishop's retinue, with his\nsumpter-horses and his attendants. And the bishop himself came\ntowards him. And he stayed his work. \"Lord Bishop,\" said he, \"thy\nblessing.\" \"Heaven's blessing be unto thee!\" said he. \"What work\nart thou upon?\" \"Hanging a thief that I caught robbing me,\" said\nhe. \"Is not that a mouse that I see in thy hand?\" \"Yes,\" answered\nhe, \"and she has robbed me.\" \"Ay,\" said he, \"since I have come at\nthe doom of this reptile I will ransom it of thee. I will give\nthee seven pounds for it, and that rather than see a man of rank\nequal to thine destroying so vile a reptile as this. Let it loose,\nand thou shalt have the money.\" \"I declare to Heaven that I will\nnot let it loose.\" \"If thou wilt not loose it for this, I will\ngive thee four and twenty pounds of ready money to set it free.\"\n\"I will not set it free, by Heaven, for as much again,\" said he.\n\"If thou wilt not set it free for this, I will give thee all the\nhorses that thou seest in this plain, and the seven loads of\nbaggage, and the seven horses that they are upon.\" \"By Heaven, I\nwill not,\" he replied. \"Since for this thou wilt not set it free,\ndo so at what price soever thou wilt.\" \"I will that Rhiannon and\nPryderi be free,\" said he. \"That thou shalt have,\" he answered.\n\"Not yet will I loose the mouse, by Heaven.\" \"What then wouldst\nthou?\" \"That the charm and the illusion be removed from the seven\ncantrevs of Dyved.\" \"This shalt thou have also; set therefore the\nmouse free.\" \"I will not set it free, by Heaven,\" said he, \"till I\nknow who the mouse may be.\" \"She is my wife.\" \"Wherefore came she\nto me?\" \"To despoil thee,\" he answered. \"I am Lloyd, the son of\nKilwed, and I cast the charm over the seven cantrevs of Dyved. And\nit was to avenge Gawl, the son of Clud, from the friendship I had\ntowards him, that I cast the charm. And upon Pryderi did I avenge\nGawl, the son of Clud, for the game of Badger in the Bag, that\nPwyll, the son of Auwyn, played upon him. And when it was known\nthat thou wast come to dwell in the land, my household came and\nbesought me to transform them into mice, that they might destroy\nthy corn. And they went the first and the second night, and\ndestroyed thy two crops. And the third night came unto me my wife\nand the ladies of the court, and besought me to transform them.\nAnd I transformed them. Now she is not in her usual health. And\nhad she been in her usual health, thou wouldst not have been able\nto overtake her; but since this has taken place, and she has been\ncaught, I will restore to thee Pryderi and Rhiannon, and I will\ntake the charm and illusion from off Dyved. Set her therefore\nfree.\" \"I will not set her free yet.\" \"What wilt thou more?\" he\nasked. \"I will that there be no more charm upon the seven cantrevs\nof Dyved, and that none shall be put upon it henceforth; moreover,\nthat vengeance be never taken for this, either upon Pryderi or\nRhiannon, or upon me.\" \"All this shalt thou have. And truly thou\nhast done wisely in asking this. Upon thy head would have lit all\nthis trouble.\" \"Yea,\" said he, \"for fear thereof was it that I\nrequired this.\" \"Set now my wife at liberty.\" \"I will not,\" said\nhe, \"until I see Pryderi and Rhiannon with me free.\" \"Behold, here\nthey come,\" he answered.\n\nAnd thereupon behold Pryderi and Rhiannon. And he rose up to meet\nthem, and greeted them, and sat down beside them. \"Ah, chieftain,\nset now my wife at liberty,\" said the bishop. \"Hast thou not\nreceived all thou didst ask?\" \"I will release her, gladly,\" said\nhe. And thereupon he set her free.\n\nThen he struck her with a magic wand, and she was changed back\ninto a young woman, the fairest ever seen. \"Look round upon thy\nland,\" said he, \"and thou wilt see it all tilled and peopled as it\nwas in its best estate.\" And he rose up and looked forth. And when\nhe looked he saw all the lands tilled, and full of herds and\ndwellings.\n\nAnd thus ends this portion of the Mabinogi.\n\nThe following allusions to the preceding story are found in a\nletter of the poet Southey to John Rickman, Esq., dated June 6th,\n1802:\n\n\"You will read the Mabinogeon, concerning which I ought to have\ntalked to you. In the last, that most odd and Arabian-like story\nof the mouse, mention is made of a begging scholar, that helps to\nthe date; but where did the Cymri get the imagination that could\nproduce such a tale? That enchantment of the basin hanging by the\nchain from heaven is in the wildest spirit of the Arabian Nights.\nI am perfectly astonished that such fictions should exist in\nWelsh. They throw no light on the origin of romance, everything\nbeing utterly dissimilar to what we mean by that term, but they do\nopen a new world of fiction; and if the date of their language be\nfixed about the twelfth or thirteenth century, I cannot but think\nthe mythological substance is of far earlier date; very probably\nbrought from the East by some of the first settlers or\nconquerors.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nKILWICH AND OLWEN\n\n\nKilydd, a son of Prince Kelyddon, desired a wife as a helpmate,\nand the wife that he chose was Goleudid, the daughter of Prince\nAnlawd. And after their union the people put up prayers that they\nmight have an heir. And they had a son through the prayers of the\npeople; and called his name Kilwich.\n\nAfter this the boy's mother, Goleudid, the daughter of Prince\nAnlawd, fell sick. Then she called her husband to her, and said to\nhim, \"Of this sickness I shall die, and thou wilt take another\nwife. Now wives are the gift of the Lord, but it would be wrong\nfor thee to harm thy son. Therefore I charge thee that thou take\nnot a wife until thou see a briar with two blossoms upon my\ngrave.\" And this he promised her. Then she besought him to dress\nher grave every year, that no weeds might grow thereon. So the\nqueen died. Now the king sent an attendant every morning to see if\nanything were growing upon the grave. And at the end of the\nseventh year they neglected that which they had promised to the\nqueen.\n\nOne day the king went to hunt; and he rode to the place of burial,\nto see the grave, and to know if it were time that he should take\na wife: and the King saw the briar. And when he saw it, the king\ntook counsel where he should find a wife. Said one of his\ncounsellors, \"I know a wife that will suit thee well; and she is\nthe wife of King Doged.\" And they resolved to go to seek her; and\nthey slew the king, and brought away his wife. And they conquered\nthe kings' lands. And he married the widow of King Doged, the\nsister of Yspadaden Penkawr.\n\nAnd one day his stepmother said to Kilwich, \"It were well for thee\nto have a wife.\" \"I am not yet of an age to wed,\" answered the\nyouth. Then said she unto him, \"I declare to thee that it is thy\ndestiny not to be suited with a wife until thou obtain Olwen, the\ndaughter of Yspadaden Penkawr.\" And the youth blushed, and the\nlove of the maiden diffused itself through all his frame, although\nhe had never seen her. And his father inquired of him, \"What has\ncome over thee, my son, and what aileth thee?\" \"My stepmother has\ndeclared to me that I shall never have a wife until I obtain\nOlwen, the daughter of Yspadaden Penkawr.\" \"That will be easy for\nthee,\" answered his father. \"Arthur is thy cousin. Go, therefore,\nunto Arthur, to cut thy hair, and ask this of him as a boon.\"\n\nAnd the youth pricked forth upon a steed with head dappled gray,\nfour winters old, firm of limb, with shell-formed hoofs, having a\nbridle of linked gold on his head, and upon him a saddle of costly\ngold. And in the youth's hand were two spears of silver, sharp,\nwell-tempered, headed with steel, three ells in length, of an\nedge to wound the wind, and cause blood to flow, and swifter than\nthe fall of the dew-drop from the blade of reed-grass, when the\ndew of June is at the heaviest. A gold-hilted sword was upon his\nthigh, the blade of which was gilded, bearing a cross of inlaid\ngold of the hue of the lightning of heaven. His war-horn was of\nivory. Before him were two brindled, white-breasted greyhounds,\nhaving strong collars of rubies about their necks, reaching from\nthe shoulder to the ear. And the one that was upon the left side\nbounded across to the right side, and the one on the right to the\nleft, and, like two sea-swallows, sported around him. And his\ncourser cast up four sods, with his four hoofs, like four swallows\nin the air, about his head, now above, now below. About him was a\nfour-cornered cloth of purple, and an apple of gold was at each\ncorner, and every one of the apples was of the value of an hundred\nkine. And there was precious gold of the value of three hundred\nkine upon his shoes, and upon his stirrups, from his knee to the\ntip of his toe. And the blade of grass bent not beneath him, so\nlight was his courser's tread, as he journeyed toward the gate of\nArthur's palace.\n\nSpoke the youth: \"Is there a porter?\" \"There is; and if thou\nholdest not thy peace, small will be thy welcome. I am Arthur's\nporter every first day of January.\" \"Open the portal.\" \"I will not\nopen it.\" \"Wherefore not?\" \"The knife is in the meat, and the\ndrink is in the horn, and there is revelry in Arthur's hall; and\nnone may enter therein but the son of a king of a privileged\ncountry, or a craftsman bringing his craft. But there will be\nrefreshment for thy dogs and for thy horse; and for thee there\nwill be collops cooked and peppered, and luscious wine, and\nmirthful songs; and food for fifty men shall be brought unto thee\nin the guest-chamber, where the stranger and the sons of other\ncountries eat, who come not into the precincts of the palace of\nArthur. Thou wilt fare no worse there than thou wouldst with\nArthur in the court. A lady shall smooth thy couch, and shall lull\nthee with songs; and early to-morrow morning, when the gate is\nopen for the multitude that came hither to-day, for thee shall it\nbe opened first, and thou mayest sit in the place that thou shalt\nchoose in Arthur's hall, from the upper end to the lower.\" Said\nthe youth: \"That will I not do. If thou openest the gate, it is\nwell. If thou dost not open it, I will bring disgrace upon thy\nlord, and evil report upon thee. And I will set up three shouts at\nthis very gate, than which none were ever heard more deadly.\"\n\"What clamor soever thou mayest make,\" said Glewlwyd, the porter,\n\"against the laws of Arthur's palace, shalt thou not enter\ntherein, until I first go and speak with Arthur.\"\n\nThen Glewlwyd went into the hall. And Arthur said to him, \"Hast\nthou news from the gate?\" \"Half of my life is passed,\" said\nGlewlwyd, \"and half of thine. I was heretofore in Kaer Se and\nAsse, in Sach and Salach, in Lotor and Fotor, and I have been in\nIndia the Great and India the Lesser, and I have also been in\nEurope and Africa, and in the islands of Corsica, and I was\npresent when thou didst conquer Greece in the East. Nine supreme\nsovereigns, handsome men, saw we there, but never did I behold a\nman of equal dignity with him who is now at the door of the\nportal.\" Then said Arthur: \"If walking thou didst enter here,\nreturn thou running. It is unbecoming to keep such a man as thou\nsayest he is in the wind and the rain.\" Said Kay: \"By the hand of\nmy friend, if thou wouldst follow my counsel, thou wouldst not\nbreak through the laws of the court because of him.\" \"Not so,\nblessed Kay,\" said Arthur; \"it is an honor to us to be resorted\nto, and the greater our courtesy, the greater will be our renown\nand our fame and our glory.\"\n\nAnd Glewlwyd came to the gate, and opened the gate before Kilwich:\nand although all dismounted upon the horse-block at the gate, yet\ndid he not dismount, but he rode in upon his charger. Then said\nhe, \"Greeting be unto thee, sovereign ruler of this island, and be\nthis greeting no less unto the lowest than unto the highest, and\nbe it equally unto thy guests, and thy warriors, and thy\nchieftains; let all partake of it as completely as thyself. And\ncomplete be thy favor, and thy fame, and thy glory, throughout all\nthis island.\" \"Greeting unto thee also,\" said Arthur; \"sit thou\nbetween two of my warriors, and thou shalt have minstrels before\nthee, and thou shalt enjoy the privileges of a king born to a\nthrone, as long as thou remainest here. And when I disperse my\npresents to the visitors and strangers in this court, they shall\nbe in thy hand at my commencing.\" Said the youth, \"I came not here\nto consume meat and drink; but if I obtain the boon that I seek, I\nwill requite it thee, and extol thee; but if I have it not, I will\nbear forth thy dispraise to the four quarters of the world, as far\nas thy renown has extended.\" Then said Arthur, \"Since thou wilt\nnot remain here, chieftain, thou shalt receive the boon,\nwhatsoever thy tongue may name, as far as the wind dries, and the\nrain moistens, and the sun revolves, and the sea encircles, and\nthe earth extends; save only my ship Prydwen, and my mantle, and\nCaliburn, my sword, and Rhongomyant, my lance, and Guenever, my\nwife. By the truth of Heaven, thou shalt have it cheerfuly, name\nwhat thou wilt.\" \"I would that thou bless my hair,\" said he. \"That\nshall be granted thee.\"\n\nAnd Arthur took a golden comb, and scissors whereof the loops were\nof silver, and he combed his hair. And Arthur inquired of him who\nhe was; \"for my heart warms unto thee, and I know that thou art\ncome of my blood. Tell me, therefore, who thou art.\" \"I will tell\nthee,\" said the youth. \"I am Kilwich, the son of Kilydd, the son\nof Prince Kelyddon, by Goleudyd, my mother, the daughter of Prince\nAnlawd.\" \"That is true,\" said Arthur; \"thou art my cousin.\nWhatsoever boon thou mayest ask, thou shalt receive, be it what it\nmay that thy tongue shall name.\" \"Pledge the truth of Heaven and\nthe faith of thy kingdom thereof.\" \"I pledge it thee gladly.\" \"I\ncrave of thee, then, that thou obtain for me Olwen, the daughter\nof Yspadaden Penkawr, to wife; and this boon I likewise seek at\nthe hands of thy warriors. I seek it from Kay and from Bedwyr; and\nfrom Gwynn, the son of Nudd, and Gadwy, the son of Geraint, and\nPrince Flewddur Flam and Iona, king of France, and Sel, the son of\nSelgi, and Taliesin, the chief of the bards, and Geraint, the son\nof Erbin, Garanwyn, the son of Kay, and Amren, the son of Bedwyr,\nOl, the son of Olwyd, Bedwin, the bishop, Guenever, the chief\nlady, and Guenhywach, her sister, Morved, the daughter of Urien,\nand Gwenlian Deg, the majestic maiden, Creiddylad, [Footnote:\nCreiddylad is no other than Shakspeare's Cordelia, whose father,\nKing Lear, is by the Welsh authorities called indiscriminately\nLlyr or Lludd. All the old chronicles give the story of her\ndevotion to her aged parent, but none of them seem to have been\naware that she is destined to remain with him till the day of\ndoom, whilst Gwyn ap Nudd, the king of the fairies, and Gwythyr op\nGreidiol, fight for her every first of May, and whichever of them\nmay be fortunate enough to be the conqueror at that time will\nobtain her as a bride.] the daughter of Lludd, the constant\nmaiden, and Ewaedah, the daughter of Kynvelyn, [Footnote: The\nWelsh have a fable on the subject of the half man, taken to be\nillustrative of the force of habit. In this allegory Arthur is\nsupposed to be met by a sprite, who appears at first in a small\nand indistinct form, but who, on approaching nearer, increases in\nsize, and, assuming the semblance of half a man, endeavors to\nprovoke the king to wrestle. Despising his weakness, and\nconsidering that he should gain no credit by the encounter, Arthur\nrefuses to do so, and delays the contest until at length the half\nman (Habit) becomes so strong that it requires his utmost efforts\nto overcome him.] the half-man.\" All these did Kilwich, the son of\nKilydd, adjure to obtain his boon.\n\nThen said Arthur, \"O chieftain, I have never heard of the maiden\nof whom thou speakest, nor of her kindred, but I will gladly send\nmessengers in search of her. Give me time to seek her.\" And the\nyouth said, \"I will willingly grant from this night to that at the\nend of the year to do so.\" Then Arthur sent messengers to every\nland within his dominions to seek for the maiden, and at the end\nof the year Arthur's messengers returned without having gained any\nknowledge or intelligence concerning Olwen, more than on the first\nday. Then said Kilwich, \"Every one has received his boon, and I\nyet lack mine. I will depart, and bear away thy honor with me.\"\nThen said Kay, \"Rash chieftain! dost thou reproach Arthur? Go with\nus, and we will not part until thou dost either confess that the\nmaiden exists not in the world, or until we obtain her.\" Thereupon\nKay rose up. And Arthur called Bedwyr, who never shrank from any\nenterprise upon which Kay was bound. None were equal to him in\nswiftness throughout this island except Arthur alone; and although\nhe was one handed; three warriors could not shed blood faster than\nhe on the field of battle.\n\nAnd Arthur called to Kyndelig, the guide, \"Go thou upon this\nexpedition with the chieftain.\" For as good a guide was he in a\nland which he had never seen as he was in his own.\n\nHe called Gurhyr Gwalstat, because he knew all tongues.\n\nHe called Gawain, the son of Gwyar, because he never returned home\nwithout achieving the adventure of which he went in quest.\n\nAnd Arthur called Meneu, the son of Teirgwed, in order that, if\nthey went into a savage country, he might cast a charm and an\nillusion over them, so that none might see them, whilst they could\nsee every one.\n\nThey journeyed until they came to a vast open plain, wherein they\nsaw a great castle, which was the fairest of the castles of the\nworld. And when they came before the castle, they beheld a vast\nflock of sheep. And upon the top of a mound there was a herdsman\nkeeping the sheep. And a rug made of skins was upon him, and by\nhis side was a shaggy mastiff, larger than a steed nine winters\nold.\n\nThen said Kay, \"Gurhyr Gwalstat, go thou and salute yonder man.\"\n\"Kay,\" said he, \"I engaged not to go further than thou thyself.\"\n\"Let us go then together.\" answered Kay. Said Meneu, \"Fear not to\ngo thither, for I will cast a spell upon the dog, so that he shall\ninjure no one.\" And they went up to the mound whereon the herdsman\nwas, and they said to him, \"How dost thou fare, herdsman?\" \"Not\nless fair be it to you than to me.\" \"Whose are the sheep that thou\ndost keep, and to whom does yonder castle belong?\" \"Stupid are ye,\ntruly! not to know that this is the castle of Yspadaden Penkawr.\nAnd ye also, who are ye?\" \"We are an embassy from Arthur, come to\nseek Olwen, the daughter of Yspadaden Penkawr.\" \"O men! the mercy\nof Heaven be upon you; do not that for all the world. None who\never came hither on this quest has returned alive.\" And the\nherdsman rose up. And as he rose Kilwich gave unto him a ring of\ngold. And he went home and gave the ring to his spouse to keep.\nAnd she took the ring when it was given her, and she said, \"Whence\ncame this ring, for thou art not wont to have good fortune.\" \"O\nwife, him to whom this ring belonged thou shalt see here this\nevening.\" \"And who is he?\" asked the woman. \"Kilwich, the son of\nKilydd, by Goleudid, the daughter of Prince Anlawd, who is come to\nseek Olwen as his wife.\" And when she heard that, she had joy that\nher nephew, the son of her sister, was coming to her, and sorrow,\nbecause she had never known any one depart alive who had come on\nthat quest.\n\nAnd the men went forward to the gate of the herdsman's dwelling.\nAnd when she heard their footsteps approaching, she ran out with\njoy to meet them. And Kay snatched a billet out of the pile. And\nwhen she met them, she sought to throw her arms about their necks.\nAnd Kay placed the log between her two hands, and she squeezed it\nso that it became a twisted coil. \"O woman,\" said Kay, \"if thou\nhadst squeezed me thus, none could ever again have set their\naffections on me. Evil love were this.\" They entered into the\nhouse and were served; and soon after, they all went forth to\namuse themselves. Then the woman opened a stone chest that was\nbefore the chimney-corner, and out of it arose a youth with\nyellow, curling hair. Said Gurhyr, \"It is a pity to hide this\nyouth. I know that it is not his own crime that is thus visited\nupon him.\" \"This is but a remnant,\" said the woman. \"Three and\ntwenty of my sons has Yspadaden Penkawr slain, and I have no more\nhope of this one than of the others.\" Then said Kay, \"Let him come\nand be a companion with me, and he shall not be slain unless I\nalso am slain with him.\" And they ate. And the woman asked them,\n\"Upon what errand come you here?\" \"We come to seek Olwen for this\nyouth.\" Then said the woman, \"In the name of Heaven, since no one\nfrom the castle hath yet seen you, return again whence you came.\"\n\"Heaven is our witness, that we will not return until we have seen\nthe maiden. Does she ever come hither, so that she may be seen?\"\n\"She comes here every Saturday to wash her head, and in the vessel\nwhere she washes she leaves all her rings, and she never either\ncomes herself or sends any messengers to fetch them.\" \"Will she\ncome here if she is sent to?\" \"Heaven knows that I will not\ndestroy my soul, nor will I betray those that trust me; unless you\nwill pledge me your faith that you will not harm her, I will not\nsend to her.\" \"We pledge it,\" said they. So a message was sent,\nand she came.\n\nThe maiden was clothed in a robe of flame-colored silk, and about\nher neck was a collar of ruddy gold, on which were precious\nemeralds and rubies. More yellow was her head than the flower of\nthe broom, [Footnote: The romancers dwell with great complacency\non the fair hair and delicate complexion of their heroines. This\ntaste continued for a long time, and to render the hair light was\nan object of education. Even when wigs came into fashion they were\nall flaxen. Such was the color of the hair of the Gauls and of\ntheir German conquerors. It required some centuries to reconcile\ntheir eyes to the swarthy beauties of their Spanish and Italian\nneighbors.] and her skin was whiter than the foam of the wave, and\nfairer were her hands and her fingers than the blossoms of the\nwood-anemone amidst the spray of the meadow fountain. The eye of\nthe trained hawk was not brighter than hers. Her bosom was more\nsnowy than the breast of the white swan, her cheek was redder than\nthe reddest roses. Whoso beheld her was filled with her love. Four\nwhite trefoils sprung up wherever she trod. And therefore was she\ncalled Olwen.\n\nShe entered the house and sat beside Kilwich upon the foremost\nbench; and as soon as he saw her, he knew her. And Kilwich said\nunto her, \"Ah! maiden, thou art she whom I have loved; come away\nwith me, lest they speak evil of thee and of me. Many a day have I\nloved thee.\" \"I cannot do this, for I have pledged my faith to my\nfather not to go without his counsel, for his life will last only\nuntil the time of my espousals. Whatever is to be, must be. But I\nwill give thee advice, if thou wilt take it. Go, ask me of my\nfather, and that which he shall require of thee, grant it, and\nthou wilt obtain me; but if thou deny him anything, thou wilt not\nobtain me, and it will be well for thee if thou escape with thy\nlife.\" \"I promise all this, if occasion offer,\" said he.\n\nShe returned to her chamber, and they all rose up, and followed\nher to the castle. And they slew the nine porters, that were at\nthe nine gates, in silence. And they slew the nine watch-dogs\nwithout one of them barking. And they went forward to the hall.\n\n\"The greeting of Heaven and of man be unto thee, Yspadaden\nPenkawr,\" said they. \"And you, wherefore come you?\" \"We come to\nask thy daughter Olwen for Kilwich, the son of Kilydd, the son of\nPrince Kelyddon.\" \"Where are my pages and my servants? Raise up\nthe forks beneath my two eyebrows, which have fallen over my eyes,\nthat I may see the fashion of my son-in-law.\" And they did so.\n\"Come hither to-morrow, and you shall have an answer.\"\n\nThey rose to go forth, and Yspadaden Penkawr seized one of the\nthree poisoned darts that lay beside him, and threw it after them.\nAnd Bedwyr caught it, and flung it, and pierced Yspadaden Penkawr\ngrievously with it through the knee. Then he said, \"A cursed\nungentle son-in-law, truly! I shall ever walk the worse for his\nrudeness, and shall ever be without a cure. This poisoned iron\npains me like the bite of a gad-fly. Cursed be the smith who\nforged it, and the anvil on which it was wrought! So sharp is it!\"\n\nThat night also they took up their abode in the house of the\nherdsman. The next day, with the dawn, they arrayed themselves and\nproceeded to the castle, and entered the hall; and they said,\n\"Yspadaden Penkawr, give us thy daughter in consideration of her\ndower and her maiden fee, which we will pay to thee, and to her\ntwo kinswomen likewise.\" Then he said, \"Her four great-\ngrandmothers and her four great-grandsires are yet alive; it is\nneedful that I take counsel of them.\" \"Be it so,\" they answered,\n\"we will go to meat.\" As they rose up he took the second dart that\nwas beside him, and cast it after them. And Meneu, the son of\nGawedd, caught it, and flung it back at him, and wounded him in\nthe centre of the breast. \"A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly!\"\nsaid he; \"the hard iron pains me like the bite of a horse-leech.\nCursed be the hearth whereon it was heated, and the smith who\nformed it! So sharp is it! Henceforth, whenever I go up hill, I\nshall have a scant in my breath, and a pain in my chest, and I\nshall often loathe my food.\" And they went to meat.\n\nAnd the third day they returned to the palace. And Yspadaden\nPenkawr said to them, \"Shoot not at me again unless you desire\ndeath. Where are my attendants? Lift up the forks of my eyebrows,\nwhich have fallen over my eyeballs, that I may see the fashion of\nmy son-in-law.\" Then they arose, and, as they did so, Yspadaden\nPenkawr took the third poisoned dart and cast it at them. And\nKilwich caught it, and threw it vigorously, and wounded him\nthrough the eyeball. \"A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly! As long\nas I remain alive, my eyesight will be the worse. Whenever I go\nagainst the wind, my eyes will water; and peradventure my head\nwill burn, and I shall have a giddiness every new moon. Like the\nbite of a mad dog is the stroke of this poisoned iron. Cursed be\nthe fire in which it was forged!\" And they went to meat.\n\nAnd the next day they came again to the palace, and they said,\n\"Shoot not at us any more, unless thou desirest such hurt and harm\nand torture as thou now hast, and even more.\" Said Kilwich, \"Give\nme thy daughter; and if thou wilt not give her, thou shalt receive\nthy death because of her.\" \"Where is he that seeks my daughter?\nCome hither where I may see thee.\" And they placed him a chair\nface to face with him.\n\nSaid Yspadaden Penkawr, \"Is it thou that seekest my daughter?\"\n\n\"It is I,\" answered Kilwich.\n\n\"I must have thy pledge that thou wilt not do toward me otherwise\nthan is just; and when I have gotten that which I shall name, my\ndaughter thou shalt have.\"\n\n\"I promise thee that willingly,\" said Kilwich; \"name what thou\nwilt.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said he. \"Seest thou yonder red tilled ground?\"\n\n\"I see it.\"\n\n\"When first I met the mother of this maiden, nine bushels of flax\nwere sown therein, and none has yet sprung up, white nor black. I\nrequire to have the flax to sow in the new land yonder, that when\nit grows up it may make a white wimple for my daughter's head on\nthe day of thy wedding.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest\nthink it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get--\nthe harp of Teirtu, to play to us that night. When a man desires\nthat it should play, it does so of itself; and when he desires\nthat it should cease, it ceases. And this he will not give of his\nown free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest\nthink it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nI require thee to get me for my huntsman Mabon, the son of Modron.\nHe was taken from his mother when three nights old, and it is not\nknown where he now is, nor whether he is living or dead.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest\nthink it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get--\nthe two cubs of the wolf Gast Rhymhi; no leash in the world will\nhold them, but a leash made from the beard of Dillus Varwawc, the\nrobber. And the leash will be of no avail unless it be plucked\nfrom his beard while he is alive. While he lives he will not\nsuffer this to be done to him, and the leash will be of no use\nshould he be dead, because it will be brittle.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest\nthink it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get--\nthe sword of Gwernach the Giant; of his own free will he will not\ngive it, and thou wilt never be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest\nthink it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nDifficulties shalt thou meet with, and nights without sleep, in\nseeking this, and if thou obtain it not, neither shalt thou obtain\nmy daughter.\"\n\n\"Horses shall I have, and chivalry; and my lord and kinsman,\nArthur, will obtain for me all these things. And I shall gain thy\ndaughter, and thou shalt lose thy life.\"\n\n\"Go forward. And thou shalt not be chargeable for food or raiment\nfor my daughter while thou art seeking these things; and when thou\nhast compassed all these marvels, thou shalt have my daughter for\nthy wife.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nKILWICH AND OLWEN (Continued)\n\n\nAll that day they journeyed until the evening, and then they\nbeheld a vast castle, which was the largest in the world. And lo!\na black man, larger than three of the men of this world, came out\nfrom the castle. And they spoke unto him, and said, \"O man, whose\ncastle is that?\" \"Stupid are ye, truly, O men! There is no one in\nthe world that does not know that this is the castle of Gwernach\nthe Giant.\" \"What treatment is there for guests and strangers that\nalight in that castle?\" \"O chieftain, Heaven protect thee! No\nguests ever returned thence alive, and no one may enter therein\nunless he brings with him his craft.\"\n\nThen they proceeded towards the gate. Said Gurhyr Gwalstat, \"Is\nthere a porter?\" \"There is; wherefore dost thou call?\" \"Open the\ngate.\" \"I will not open it.\" \"Wherefore wilt thou not?\" \"The knife\nis in the meat, and the drink is in the horn, and there is revelry\nin the hall of Gwernach the Giant; and except for a craftsman who\nbrings his craft, the gate will not be opened to-night.\" \"Verily,\nporter,\" then said Kay, \"my craft bring I with me.\" \"What is thy\ncraft?\" \"The best burnisher of swords am I in the world.\" \"I will\ngo and tell this unto Gwernach the Giant, and I will bring thee an\nanswer.\"\n\nSo the porter went in, and Gwernach said to him, \"Hast thou news\nfrom the gate?\" \"I have. There is a party at the door of the gate\nwho desire to come in.\" \"Didst thou inquire of them if they\npossessed any art?\" \"I did inquire,\" said he, \"and one told me\nthat he was well skilled in the burnishing of swords.\" \"We have\nneed of him then. For some time have I sought for some one to\npolish my sword, and could find no one. Let this man enter, since\nhe brings with him his craft.\"\n\nThe porter thereupon returned and opened the gate. And Kay went in\nby himself, and he saluted Gwernach the Giant. And a chair was\nplaced for him opposite to Gwernach. And Gwernach said to him, \"O\nman, is it true that is reported of thee, that thou knowest how to\nburnish swords?\" \"I know full well how to do so,\" answered Kay.\nThen was the sword of Gwernach brought to him. And Kay took a blue\nwhetstone from under his arm, and asked whether he would have it\nburnished white or blue. \"Do with it as it seems good to thee, or\nas thou wouldst if it were thine own.\" Then Kay polished one half\nof the blade, and put it in his hand. \"Will this please thee?\"\nasked he. \"I would rather than all that is in my dominions that\nthe whole of it were like this. It is a marvel to me that such a\nman as thou should be without a companion.\" \"O noble sir, I have a\ncompanion, albeit he is not skilled in this art.\" \"Who may he be?\"\n\"Let the porter go forth, and I will tell him whereby he may know\nhim. The head of his lance will leave its shaft, and draw blood\nfrom the wind, and will descend upon its shaft again.\" Then the\ngate was opened, and Bedwyr entered. And Kay said, \"Bedwyr is very\nskilful, though he knows not this art.\"\n\nAnd there was much discourse among those who were without, because\nthat Kay and Bedwyr had gone in. And a young man who was with\nthem, the only son of the herdsman, got in also; and he contrived\nto admit all the rest, but they kept themselves concealed.\n\nThe sword was now polished, and Kay gave it unto the hand of\nGwernach the Giant, to see if he were pleased with his work. And\nthe giant said, \"The work is good; I am content therewith.\" Said\nKay, \"It is thy scabbard that hath rusted thy sword; give it to\nme, that I may take out the wooden sides of it, and put in new\nones.\" And he took the scabbard from him, and the sword in the\nother hand. And he came and stood over against the giant, as if he\nwould have put the sword into the scabbard; and with it he struck\nat the head of the giant, and cut off his head at one blow. Then\nthey despoiled the castle, and took from it what goods and jewels\nthey would. And they returned to Arthur's court, bearing with them\nthe sword of Gwernach the Giant.\n\nAnd when they told Arthur how they had sped, Arthur said, \"It is a\ngood beginning.\" Then they took counsel, and said, \"Which of these\nmarvels will it be best for us to seek next?\" \"It will be best,\"\nsaid one, \"to seek Mabon, the son of Modron; and he will not be\nfound unless we first find Eidoel, the son of Aer, his kinsman.\"\nThen Arthur rose up, and the warriors of the island of Britain\nwith him, to seek for Eidoel; and they proceeded until they came\nto the castle of Glivi, where Eidoel was imprisoned. Glivi stood\non the summit of his castle, and he said, \"Arthur, what requirest\nthou of me, since nothing remains to me in this fortress, and I\nhave neither joy nor pleasure in it, neither wheat nor oats? Seek\nnot, therefore, to do me harm.\" Said Arthur, \"Not to injure thee\ncame I hither, but to seek for the prisoner that is with thee.\" \"I\nwill give thee my prisoner, though I had not thought to give him\nup to any one, and therewith shalt thou have my support and my\naid.\"\n\nHis followers said unto Arthur, \"Lord, go thou home, thou canst\nnot proceed with thy host in quest of such small adventures as\nthese.\" Then said Arthur, \"It were well for thee, Gurhyr Gwalstat,\nto go upon this quest, for thou knowest all languages, and art\nfamiliar with those of the birds and the beasts. Thou, Eidoel,\noughtest likewise to go with thy men in search of thy cousin. And\nas for you, Kay and Bedwyr, I have hope of whatever adventure ye\nare in quest of, that ye will achieve it. Achieve ye this\nadventure for me.\"\n\nThey went forward until they came to the Ousel of Cilgwri. And\nGurhyr adjured her, saying, \"Tell me if thou knowest aught of\nMabon, the son of Modron, who was taken when three nights old from\nbetween his mother and the wall?\" And the Ousel answered, \"When I\nfirst came here, there was a smith's anvil in this place, and I\nwas then a young bird; and from that time no work has been done\nupon it, save the pecking of my beak every evening; and now there\nis not so much as the size of a nut remaining thereof; yet during\nall that time I have never heard of the man for whom you inquire.\nNevertheless, I will do that which it is fitting that I should for\nan embassy from Arthur. There is a race of animals who were formed\nbefore me, and I will be your guide to them.\"\n\nSo they proceeded to the place where was the Stag of Redynvre.\n\"Stag of Redynvre, behold, we are come to thee, an embassy from\nArthur, for we have not heard of any animal older than thou. Say,\nknowest thou aught of Mabon, the son of Modron, who was taken from\nhis mother when three nights old?\" The Stag said, \"When first I\ncame hither there was a plain all around me, without any trees\nsave one oak sapling, which grew up to be an oak with an hundred\nbranches; and that oak has since perished, so that now nothing\nremains of it but the withered stump; and from that day to this I\nhave been here, yet have I never heard of the man for whom you\ninquire. Nevertheless, being an embassy from Arthur, I will be\nyour guide to the place where there is an animal which was formed\nbefore I was, and the oldest animal in the world, and the one that\nhas travelled most, the Eagle of Gwern Abwy.\"\n\nGurhyr said, \"Eagle of Gwern Abwy, we have come to thee, an\nembassy from Arthur, to ask thee if thou knowest aught of Mabon,\nthe son of Modron, who was taken from his mother when he was three\nnights old?\" The Eagle said, \"I have been here for a great space\nof time, and when I first came hither, there was a rock here from\nthe top of which I pecked at the stars every evening; and it has\ncrumbled away, and now it is not so much as a span high. All that\ntime I have been here, and I have never heard of the man for whom\nyou inquire, except once when I went in search of food as far as\nLlyn Llyw. And when I came there, I struck my talons into a\nsalmon, thinking he would serve me as food for a long time. But he\ndrew me into the water, and I was scarcely able to escape from\nhim. After that I made peace with him. And I drew fifty fish-\nspears out of his back, and relieved him. Unless he know something\nof him whom you seek, I cannot tell who may. However, I will guide\nyou to the place where he is.\"\n\nSo they went thither; and the Eagle said, \"Salmon of Llyn Llyw, I\nhave come to thee with an embassy from Arthur, to ask thee if thou\nknowest aught of Mabon, the son of Modron, who was taken away at\nthree nights old from his mother.\" \"As much as I know I will tell\nthee. With every tide I go along the river upward, until I come\nnear to the walls of Gloucester, and there have I found such wrong\nas I never found elsewhere; and to the end that ye may give\ncredence thereto, let one of you go thither upon each of my two\nshoulders.\" So Kay and Gurhyr Gwalstat went upon the two shoulders\nof the Salmon, and they proceeded until they came unto the wall of\nthe prison; and they heard a great wailing and lamenting from the\ndungeon. Said Gurhyr, \"Who is it that laments in this house of\nstone?\" \"Alas! it is Mabon, the son of Modron, who is here\nimprisoned; and no imprisonment was ever so grievous as mine.\"\n\"Hast thou hope of being released for gold or for silver, or for\nany gifts of wealth, or through battle and fighting?\" \"By fighting\nwill what ever I may gain be obtained.\"\n\nThen they went thence, and returned to Arthur, and they told him\nwhere Mabon, the son of Modron, was imprisoned. And Arthur\nsummoned the warriors of the island, and they journeyed as far as\nGloucester, to the place where Mabon was in prison. Kay and Bedwyr\nwent upon the shoulders of the fish, whilst the warriors of Arthur\nattacked the castle. And Kay broke through the wall into the\ndungeon, and brought away the prisoner upon his back, whilst the\nfight was going on between the warriors. And Arthur returned home,\nand Mabon with him at liberty.\n\nOn a certain day as Gurhyr Gwalstat was walking over a mountain,\nhe heard a wailing and a grievous cry. And when he heard it, he\nsprang forward and went towards it. And when he came there, he saw\na fire burning among the turf, and an ant-hill nearly surrounded\nwith the fire. And he drew his sword, and smote off the ant-hill\nclose to the earth, so that it escaped being burned in the fire.\nAnd the ants said to him, \"Receive from us the blessing of Heaven,\nand that which no man can give, we give thee.\" Then they fetched\nthe nine bushels of flax-seed which Yspadaden Penkawr had required\nof Kilwich, and they brought the full measure, without lacking\nany, except one flax-seed, and that the lame pismire brought in\nbefore night.\n\nThen said Arthur, \"Which of the marvels will it be best for us to\nseek next?\" \"It will be best to seek for the two cubs of the wolf\nGast Rhymhi.\"\n\n\"Is it known,\" said Arthur, \"where she is?\" \"She is in Aber\nCleddyf,\" said one. Then Arthur went to the house of Tringad, in\nAber Cleddyf, and he inquired of him whether he had heard of her\nthere. \"She has often slain my herds, and she is there below in a\ncave in Aber Cleddyf.\"\n\nTher Arthur went in his ship Prydwen by sea, and the others went\nby land to hunt her. And they surrounded her and her two cubs, and\ntook them and carried them away.\n\nAs Kay and Bedwyr sat on a beacon-cairn on the summit of\nPlinlimmon, in the highest wind that ever was, they looked around\nthem and saw a great smoke, afar off. Then said Kay, \"By the hand\nof my friend, yonder is the fire of a robber.\" Then they hastened\ntowards the smoke, and they came so near to it that they could see\nDillus Varwawc scorching a wild boar. \"Behold, yonder is the\ngreatest robber that ever fled from Arthur,\" said Bedwyr to Kay.\n\"Dost thou know him?\" \"I do know him,\" answered Kay; \"he is Dillus\nVarwarc, and no leash in the world will be able to hold the cubs\nof Gast Rhymi, save a leash made from the beard of him thou seest\nyonder. And even that will be useless unless his beard be plucked\nout alive, with wooden tweezers; for if dead it will be brittle.\"\n\"What thinkest thou that we should do concerning this?\" said\nBedwyr. \"Let us suffer him.\" said Kay, \"to eat as much as he will\nof the meat, and after that he will fall asleep.\" And during that\ntime they employed themselves in making the wooden tweezers. And\nwhen Kay knew certainly that he was asleep, he made a pit under\nhis feet, and he struck him a violent blow, and squeezed him into\nthe pit. And there they twitched out his beard completely with the\nwooden tweezers, and after that they slew him altogether. And from\nthence they went, and took the leash made of Dillus Varwawc's\nbeard, and they gave it into Arthur's hand.\n\nThus they got all the marvels that Yspadaden Penkawr had required\nof Kilwich; and they set forward, and took the marvels to his\ncourt. And Kilwich said to Yspadaden Penkawr, \"Is thy daughter\nmine now?\" \"She is thine,\" said he, \"but therefore needest thou\nnot thank me, but Arthur, who hath accomplished this for thee.\"\nThen Goreu, the son of Custennin, the herdsman, whose brothers\nYspadaden Penkawr had slain, seized him by the hair of his head,\nand dragged him after him to the keep, and cut off his head, and\nplaced it on a stake on the citadel. Then they took possession of\nhis castle, and of his treasures. And that night Olwen became\nKilwich's bride, and she continued to be his wife as long as she\nlived.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nTALIESIN\n\n\nGwyddno Garanhir was sovereign of Gwaelod, a territory bordering\non the sea. And he possessed a weir upon the strand between Dyvi\nand Aberystwyth, near to his own castle, and the value of an\nhundred pounds was taken in that weir every May eve. And Gwyddno\nhad an only son named Elphin, the most hapless of youths, and the\nmost needy. And it grieved his father sore, for he thought that he\nwas born in an evil hour. By the advice of his council, his father\nhad granted him the drawing of the weir that year, to see if good\nluck would ever befall him, and to give him something wherewith to\nbegin the world. And this was on the twenty-ninth of April.\n\nThe next day, when Elphin went to look, there was nothing in the\nweir but a leathern bag upon a pole of the weir. Then said the\nweir-ward unto Elphin, \"All thy ill-luck aforetime was nothing to\nthis; and now thou hast destroyed the virtues of the weir, which\nalways yielded the value of an hundred pounds every May eve; and\nto-night there is nothing but this leathern skin within it.\" \"How\nnow,\" said Elphin, \"there may be therein the value of a hundred\npounds.\" Well! they took up the leathern bag, and he who opened it\nsaw the forehead of an infant, the fairest that ever was seen; and\nhe said, \"Behold a radiant brow?\" (In the Welsh language,\ntaliesin.) \"Taliesin be he called,\" said Elphin. And he lifted the\nbag in his arms, and, lamenting his bad luck, placed the boy\nsorrowfully behind him. And he made his horse amble gently, that\nbefore had been trotting, and he carried him as softly as if he\nhad been sitting in the easiest chair in the world. And presently\nthe boy made a Consolation, and praise to Elphin; and the\nConsolation was as you may here see:\n\n   \"Fair Elphin, cease to lament!\n    Never in Gwyddno's weir\n    Was there such good luck as this night.\n    Being sad will not avail;\n    Better to trust in God than to forbode ill;\n    Weak and small as I am,\n    On the foaming beach of the ocean,\n    In the day of trouble I shall be\n    Of more service to thee than three hundred salmon.\"\n\nThis was the first poem that Taliesin ever sung, being to console\nElphin in his grief for that the produce of the weir was lost, and\nwhat was worse, that all the world would consider that it was\nthrough his fault and ill-luck. Then Elphin asked him what he\nwas, whether man or spirit. And he sung thus:\n\n   \"I have been formed a comely person;\n    Although I am but little, I am highly gifted;\n    Into a dark leathern bag I was thrown,\n    And on a boundless sea I was sent adrift.\n    From seas and from mountains\n    God brings wealth to the fortunate man.\"\n\nThen came Elphin to the house of Gwyddno, his father, and Taliesin\nwith him. Gwyddno asked him if he had had a good haul at the weir,\nand he told him that he had got that which was better than fish.\n\"What was that?\" said Gwyddno. \"A bard,\" said Elphin. Then said\nGwyddno, \"Alas! what will he profit thee?\" And Taliesin himself\nreplied and said, \"He will profit him more than the weir ever\nprofited thee.\" Asked Gwyddno, \"Art thou able to speak, and thou\nso little?\" And Taliesin answered him, \"I am better able to speak\nthan thou to question me.\" \"Let me hear what thou canst say,\"\nquoth Gwyddno. Then Taliesin sang:\n\n   \"Three times have I been born, I know by meditation;\n   All the sciences of the world are collected in my breast,\n   For I know what has been, and what hereafter will occur.\"\n\nElphin gave his haul to his wife, and she nursed him tenderly and\nlovingly. Thenceforward Elphin increased in riches more and more,\nday after day, and in love and favor with the king; and there\nabode Taliesin until he was thirteen years old, when Elphin, son\nof Gwyddno, went by a Christmas invitation to his uncle, Maelgan\nGwynedd, who held open court at Christmas-tide in the castle of\nDyganwy, for all the number of his lords of both degrees, both\nspiritual and temporal, with a vast and thronged host of knights\nand squires. And one arose and said, \"Is there in the whole world\na king so great as Maelgan, or one on whom Heaven has bestowed so\nmany gifts as upon him;--form, and beauty, and meekness, and\nstrength, besides all the powers of the soul?\" And together with\nthese they said that Heaven had given one gift that exceeded all\nthe others, which was the beauty, and grace, and wisdom, and\nmodesty of his queen, whose virtues surpassed those of all the\nladies and noble maidens throughout the whole kingdom. And with\nthis they put questions one to another, Who had braver men? Who\nhad fairer or swifter horses or greyhounds? Who had more skilful\nor wiser bards than Maelgan?\n\nWhen they had all made an end of their praising the king and his\ngifts, it befell that Elphin spoke on this wise. \"Of a truth, none\nbut a king may vie with a king; but were he not a king, I would\nsay that my wife was as virtuous as any lady in the kingdom, and\nalso that I have a bard who is more skilful than all the king's\nbards.\" In a short space some of his fellows told the king all the\nboastings of Elphin; and the king ordered him to be thrown into a\nstrong prison, until he might show the truth as to the virtues of\nhis wife, and the wisdom of his bard.\n\nNow when Elphin had been put in a tower of the castle, with a\nthick chain about his feet (it is said that it was a silver chain,\nbecause he was of royal blood), the king, as the story relates,\nsent his son Rhun to inquire into the demeanor of Elphin's wife.\nNow Rhun was the most graceless man in the world, and there was\nneither wife nor maiden with whom he held converse but was evil\nspoken of. While Rhun went in haste towards Elphin's dwelling,\nbeing fully minded to bring disgrace upon his wife, Taliesin told\nhis mistress how that the king had placed his master in durance in\nprison, and how that Rhun was coming in haste to strive to bring\ndisgrace upon her. Wherefore he caused his mistress to array one\nof the maids of her kitchen in her apparel; which the noble lady\ngladly did, and she loaded her hands with the best rings that she\nand her husband possessed.\n\nIn this guise Taliesin caused his mistress to put the maiden to\nsit at the board in her room at supper; and he made her to seem as\nher mistress, and the mistress to seem as the maid. And when they\nwere in due time seated at their supper, in the manner that has\nbeen said, Rhun suddenly arrived at Elphin's dwelling, and was\nreceived with joy, for the servants knew him; and they brought him\nto the room of their mistress, in the semblance of whom the maid\nrose up from supper and welcomed him gladly. And afterwards she\nsat down to supper again, and Rhun with her. Then Rhun began\njesting with the maid, who still kept the semblance of her\nmistress. And verily this story shows that the maiden became so\nintoxicated that she fell asleep; and the story relates that it\nwas a powder that Rhun put into the drink, that made her sleep so\nsoundly that she never felt it when he cut off from her hand her\nlittle finger, whereon was the signet ring of Elphin, which he had\nsent to his wife as a token a short time before. And Rhun returned\nto the king with the finger and the ring as a proof, to show that\nhe had cut it off from her hand without her awaking from her sleep\nof intemperance.\n\nThe king rejoiced greatly at these tidings, and he sent for his\ncouncillors, to whom he told the whole story from the beginning.\nAnd he caused Elphin to be brought out of prison, and he chided\nhim because of his boast. And he spake on this wise: \"Elphin, be\nit known to thee beyond a doubt, that it is but folly for a man to\ntrust in the virtues of his wife further than he can see her; and\nthat thou mayest be certain of thy wife's vileness, behold her\nfinger, with thy signet ring upon it, which was cut from her hand\nlast night, while she slept the sleep of intoxication.\" Then thus\nspake Elphin: \"With thy leave, mighty king, I cannot deny my ring,\nfor it is known of many; but verily I assert that the finger\naround which it is was never attached to the hand of my wife; for\nin truth and certainty there are three notable things pertaining\nto it, none of which ever belonged to any of my wife's fingers.\nThe first of the three is, that it is certainly known to me that\nthis ring would never remain upon her thumb, whereas you can\nplainly see that it is hard to draw it over the joint of the\nlittle finger of the hand whence this was cut. The second thing\nis, that my wife has never let pass one Saturday since I have\nknown her, without paring her nails before going to bed, and you\ncan see fully that the nail of this little finger has not been\npared for a month. The third is, truly, that the hand whence this\nfinger came was kneading rye dough within three days before the\nfinger was cut therefrom, and I can assure your highness that my\nwife has never kneaded rye dough since my wife she has been.\"\n\nThe king was mightily wroth with Elphin for so stoutly\nwithstanding him, respecting the goodness of his wife; wherefore\nhe ordered him to his prison a second time, saying that he should\nnot be loosed thence until he had proved the truth of his boast,\nas well concerning the wisdom of his bard as the virtues of his\nwife.\n\nIn the meantime his wife and Taliesin remained joyful at Elphin's\ndwelling. And Taliesin showed his mistress how that Elphin was in\nprison because of them; but he bade her be glad, for that he would\ngo to Maelgan's court to free his master. So he took leave of his\nmistress, and came to the court of Maelgan, who was going to sit\nin his hall, and dine in his royal state, as it was the custom in\nthose days for kings and princes to do at every chief feast. As\nsoon as Taliesin entered the hall he placed himself in a quiet\ncorner, near the place where the bards and the minstrels were wont\nto come, in doing their service and duty to the king, as is the\ncustom at the high festivals, when the bounty is proclaimed. So,\nwhen the bards and the heralds came to cry largess, and to\nproclaim the power of the king, and his strength, at the moment\nwhen they passed by the corner wherein he was crouching, Taliesin\npouted out his lips after them, and played \"Blerwm, blerwm!\" with\nhis finger upon his lips. Neither took they much notice of him as\nthey went by but proceeded forward till they came before the king,\nunto whom they made their obeisance with their bodies, as they\nwere wont, without speaking a single word, but pouting out their\nlips, and making mouths at the king, playing, \"Blerwm, blerwm!\"\nupon their lips with their fingers, as they had seen the boy do.\nThis sight caused the king to wonder, and to deem within himself\nthat they were drunk with many liquors. Wherefore he commanded one\nof his lords, who served at the board, to go to them and desire\nthem to collect their wits, and to consider where they stood, and\nwhat it was fitting for them to do. And this lord did so gladly.\nBut they ceased not from their folly any more than before.\nWhereupon he sent to them a second time, and a third, desiring\nthem to go forth from the hall. At the last the king ordered one\nof his squires to give a blow to the chief of them, named Heinin\nVardd; and the squire took a broom and struck him on the head, so\nthat he fell back in his seat. Then he arose, and went on his\nknees, and besought leave of the king's grace to show that this\ntheir fault was not through want of knowledge, neither through\ndrunkenness, but by the influence of some spirit that was in the\nhall. And he spoke on this wise: \"O honorable king, be it known to\nyour grace that not from the strength of drink, or of too much\nliquor, are we dumb, but through the influence of a spirit that\nsits in the corner yonder, in the form of a child.\" Forthwith the\nking commanded the squire to fetch him; and he went to the nook\nwhere Taliesin sat, and brought him before the king, who asked him\nwhat he was, and whence he came. And he answered the king in\nverse:\n\n    \"Primary chief bard am I to Elphin,\n     And my native country is the region of the summer stars;\n     I have been in Asia with Noah in the ark,\n     I have seen the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah,\n     I was in India when Rome was built,\n     I have now come here to the remnant of Troia.\"\n\nWhen the king and his nobles had heard the song, they wondered\nmuch, for they had never heard the like from a boy so young as he.\nAnd when the king knew that he was the bard of Elphin he bade\nHeinin, his first and wisest bard, to answer Taliesin, and to\nstrive with him. But when he came he could do no other than play\n\"Blerwm!\" on his lips; and when he sent for the others of the four\nand twenty bards, they all did likewise, and could do no other.\nAnd Maelgan asked the boy Taliesin what was his errand, and he\nanswered him in song:\n\n    \"Elphin, the son of Gwyddno,\n    Is in the land of Artro,\n    Secured by thirteen locks,\n    For praising his instructor.\n    Therefore I, Taliesin,\n    Chief of the bards of the west,\n    Will loosen Elphin\n    Out of a golden fetter.\"\n\nThen he sang to them a riddle:\n\n    \"Discover thou what is\n     The strong creature from before the flood,\n     Without flesh, without bone,\n     Without vein, without blood,\n     Without head, without feet;\n     It will neither be older nor younger\n    Than at the beginning.\n    Behold how the sea whitens\n    When first it comes,\n    When it comes from the south,\n    When it strikes on coasts\n    It is in the field, it is in the wood,\n    But the eye cannot perceive it.\n    One Being has prepared it,\n    By a tremendous blast,\n    To wreak vengeance\n    On Maelgan Gwynedd.\"\n\nWhile he was thus singing his verse, there arose a mighty storm of\nwind, so that the king and all his nobles thought that the castle\nwould fall upon their heads. And the king caused them to fetch\nElphin in haste from his dungeon, and placed him before Taliesin.\nAnd it is said that immediately he sung a verse, so that the\nchains opened from about his feet.\n\nAfter that Taliesin brought Elphin's wife before them, and showed\nthat she had not one finger wanting. And in this manner did he set\nhis master free from prison, and protect the innocence of his\nmistress, and silence the bards so that not one of them dared to\nsay a word. Right glad was Elphin, right glad was Taliesin.\n\n\n\n\n\nHERO MYTHS OF THE BRITISH RACE\n\n\n\n\n\nBEOWULF\n\n\nNotable among the names of heroes of the British race is that of\nBeowulf, which appeals to all English-speaking people in a very\nspecial way, since he is the one hero in whose story we may see\nthe ideals of our English forefathers before they left their\nContinental home to cross to the islands of Britain.\n\nAlthough this hero had distinguished himself by numerous feats of\nstrength during his boyhood and early youth, it was as the\ndeliverer of Hrothgar, king of Denmark, from the monster Grendel\nthat he first gained wide renown. Grendel was half monster and\nhalf man, and had his abode in the fen-fastnesses in the vicinity\nof Hrothgar's residence. Night after night he would steal into the\nking's great palace called Heorot and slay sometimes as many as\nthirty at one time of the knights sleeping there.\n\nBeowulf put himself at the head of a selected band of warriors,\nwent against the monster, and after a terrible fight slew it. The\nfollowing night Grendel's mother, a fiend scarcely less terrible\nthan her son, carried off one of Hrothgar's boldest thanes. Once\nmore Beowulf went to the help of the Danish king, followed the\nshe-monster to her lair at the bottom of a muddy lake in the midst\nof the swamp, and with his good sword Hrunting and his own\nmuscular arms broke the sea-woman's neck.\n\nUpon his return to his own country of the Geats, loaded with\nhonors bestowed upon him by Hrothgar, Beowulf served the king of\nGeatland as the latter's most trusted counsellor and champion.\nWhen, after many years, the king fell before an enemy, the Geats\nunanimously chose Beowulf for their new king. His fame as a\nwarrior kept his country free from invasion, and his wisdom as a\nstatesman increased its prosperity and happiness.\n\nIn the fiftieth year of Beowulf's reign, however, a great terror\nfell upon the land in the way of a monstrous fire-dragon, which\nflew forth by night from its den in the rocks, lighting up the\nblackness with its blazing breath, and burning houses and\nhomesteads, men and cattle, with the flames from its mouth. When\nthe news came to Beowulf that his people were suffering and dying,\nand that no warrior dared to risk his life in an effort to deliver\nthe country from this deadly devastation, the aged king took up\nhis shield and sword and went forth to his last fight. At the\nentrance of the dragon's cave Beowulf raised his voice and shouted\na furious defiance to the awesome guardian of the den. Roaring\nhideously and napping his glowing wings together, the dragon\nrushed forth and half flew, half sprang, on Beowulf. Then began a\nfearful combat, which ended in Beowulf's piercing the dragon's\nscaly armor and inflicting a mortal wound, but alas! in himself\nbeing given a gash in the neck by his opponent's poisoned fangs\nwhich resulted in his death. As he lay stretched on the ground,\nhis head supported by Wiglaf, an honored warrior who had helped in\nthe fight with the dragon, Beowulf roused himself to say, as he\ngrasped Wiglaf's hand:\n\n   \"Thou must now look to the needs of the nation;\n    Here dwell I no longer, for Destiny calleth me!\n    Bid thou my warriors after my funeral pyre\n    Build me a burial-cairn high on the sea-cliff's head;\n    So that the seafarers Beowulf's Barrow\n    Henceforth shall name it, they who drive far and wide\n    Over the mighty flood their foamy keels.\n    Thou art the last of all the kindred of Wagmund!\n    Wyrd has swept all my kin, all the brave chiefs away!\n    Now must I follow them!\"\n\nThese last words spoken, the king of the Geats, brave to seek\ndanger and brave to look on death and Fate undaunted, fell back\ndead. According to his last desires, his followers gathered wood\nand piled it on the cliff-head. Upon this funeral pyre was laid\nBeowulf's body and consumed to ashes. Then, upon the same cliff of\nHronesness, was erected a huge burial cairn, wide-spread and\nlofty, to be known thereafter as Beowulf's Barrow.\n\n\n\n\n\nCUCHULAIN, CHAMPION OF IRELAND\n\n\nAmong all the early literatures of Europe, there are two which, at\nexactly opposite corners of the continent, display most strikingly\nsimilar characteristics. These are the Greek and the Irish, and\nthe legend of the Irish champion Cuchulain, which well illustrates\nthe similarity of the literatures, bears so close a resemblance to\nthe story of Achilles as to win for this hero the title of \"the\nIrish Achilles.\" Certainly in reckless courage, power of inspiring\ndread, sense of personal merit, and frankness of speech the Irish\nhero is fully equal to the mighty Greek.\n\nCuchulain was the nephew of King Conor of Ulster, son of his\nsister Dechtire, and it is said that his father was no mortal man,\nbut the great god Lugh of the Long Hand. Cuchulain was brought up\nby King Conor himself, and even while he was still a boy his fame\nspread all over Ireland. His warlike deeds were those of a proved\nwarrior, not of a child of nursery age; and by the time Cuchulain\nwas seventeen he was without peer among the champions of Ulster.\n\nUpon Cuchulain's marriage to Emer, daughter of Forgall the Wily, a\nDruid of great power, the couple took up their residence at\nArmagh, the capital of Ulster, under the protection of King Conor.\nHere there was one chief, Bricriu of the Bitter Tongue, who, like\nThersites among the Grecian leaders, delighted in making mischief.\nSoon he had on foot plans for stirring up strife among the heroes\nof Ulster, leaders among whom were the mighty Laegaire, Conall\nCearnach, cousin of Cuchulain, and Cuchulain himself. Inviting the\nmembers of King Conor's court to dinner, Bricriu arranged that a\ncontest should arise over who should have the \"champion's\nportion,\" and so successful was he that, to avoid a bloody fight,\nthe three heroes mentioned decided to submit their claims to the\nchampionship of Ireland to King Ailill of Connaught.\n\nAilill put the heroes to an unexpected test. Their dinner was\nserved them in a separate room, into which three magic beasts, in\nthe shape of monstrous cats, were sent by the king. When they saw\nthem Laegire and Conall rose from their meal, climbed among the\nrafters, and stayed there all night. Cuchulain waited until one\ncat attacked him, and then, drawing his sword, struck the monster.\nIt showed no further sign of fight, and at daybreak the magic\nbeasts disappeared.\n\nAs Laegire and Conall claimed that this test was an unfair one,\nAilill sent the three rivals to Curoi of Kerry, a just and wise\nman, who set out to discover by wizardry and enchantments the best\namong the heroes. In turn they stood watch outside Curoi's castle,\nwhere Laegire and Conall were overcome by a huge giant, who hurled\nspears of mighty oak trees, and ended by throwing them over the\nwall into the courtyard. Cuchulain alone withstood the giant,\nwhereupon he was attacked by other magic foes. Among these was a\ndragon, which flew on horrible wings from a neighboring lake, and\nseemed ready to devour everything in its way. Cuchulain sprang up,\ngiving his wonderful hero-leap, thrust his arm into the dragon's\nmouth and down its throat, and tore out its heart. After the\nmonster fell dead, he cut off its scaly head.\n\nAs even yet Cuchulain's opponents would not admit his\nchampionship, they were all three directed to return to Armagh, to\nawait Curoi's judgment. Here it happened that all the Ulster\nheroes were in the great hall one night, except Cuchulain and his\ncousin Conall. As they sat in order of rank, a terrible stranger,\ngigantic in stature, hideous of aspect, with ravening yellow eyes,\nentered. In his hand he bore an enormous axe, with keen and\nshining edge. Upon King Conor's inquiring his business there, the\nstranger replied:\n\n\"Behold my axe! The man who will grasp it to-day may cut my head\noff with it, provided that I may, in like manner, cut off his head\nto-morrow. If you have no champion who dare face me, I will say\nthat Ulster has lost her courage and is dishonored.\"\n\nAt once Laegire accepted the challenge. The giant laid his head on\na block, and at a blow the hero severed it from the body.\nThereupon the giant arose, took the head and the axe, and thus,\nheadless, strode from the hall. But the following night, when he\nreturned, sound as ever, to claim the fulfilment of Laegire's\npromise, the latter's heart failed him and he did not come\nforward. The stranger then jeered at the men of Ulster because\ntheir great champion durst not keep his agreement, nor face the\nblow he should receive in return for the one he gave.\n\nThe men of Ulster were utterly ashamed, but Conall Cearnach, who\nwas present that night, made a new agreement with the stranger. He\ngave a blow which beheaded the giant, but again, when the latter\nreturned whole and sound on the following evening, the champion\nwas not to be found.\n\nNow it was the turn of Cuchulain, who, as the others had done, cut\noff the giant's head at one stroke. The next day the members of\nConor's court watched Cuchulain to see what he would do. They\nwould not have been surprised if he had failed like the others,\nwho now were present. The champion, however, showed no signs of\nfailing or retreat. He sat sorrowfully in his place, and with a\nsigh said to King Conor as they waited: \"Do not leave this place\ntill all is over. Death is coming to me very surely, but I must\nfulfil my agreement, for I would rather die than break my word.\"\n\nTowards the close of day the stranger strode into the hall\nexultant.\n\n\"Where is Cuchulain?\" he cried.\n\n\"Here I am,\" was the reply.\n\n\"Ah, poor boy! your speech is sad to-night, and the fear of death\nlies heavy on you; but at least you have redeemed your word and\nhave not failed me.\"\n\nThe youth rose from his seat and went towards him, as he stood\nwith the great axe ready, and knelt to receive the blow.\n\nThe hero of Ulster laid his head on the block; but the giant was\nnot satisfied. \"Stretch out your neck better,\" said he.\n\n\"You are playing with me, to torment me,\" said Cuchulain. \"Slay me\nnow speedily, for I did not keep you waiting last night.\"\n\nHowever, he stretched out his neck as ordered, and the stranger\nraised his axe till it crashed upwards through the rafters of the\nhall, like the crash of trees falling in a storm. When the axe\ncame down with a terrific sound all men looked fearfully at\nCuchulain. The descending axe had not even touched him; it had\ncome down with the blunt side on the ground, and the youth knelt\nthere unharmed. Smiling at him, and leaning on his axe, stood no\nterrible and hideous stranger, but Curoi of Kerry, come to give\nhis decision at last.\n\n\"Rise up, Cuchulain,\" said Curoi. \"There is none among all the\nheroes of Ulster to equal you in courage and loyalty and truth.\nThe Championship of the Heroes of Ireland is yours from this day\nforth, and the Champion's Portion at all feasts; and to your wife\nI adjudge the first place among all the women of Ulster. Woe to\nhim who dares to dispute this decision!\" Thereupon Curoi vanished,\nand the warriors gathered around Cuchulain, and all with one voice\nacclaimed him the Champion of the Heroes of all Ireland--a title\nwhich has clung to him until this day.\n\nThis is one of many stories told of the Irish champion, whose\ndeeds of bravery would fill many pages. Cuchulain finally came to\nhis end on the field of battle, after a fight in which he\ndisplayed all his usual gallantry but in which unfair means were\nused to overcome him.\n\nFor Wales and for England during centuries Arthur has been the\nrepresentative \"very gentle perfect knight.\" In a similar way, in\nEngland's sister isle, Cuchulain stands ever for the highest\nideals of the Irish Gaels.\n\n\n\n\n\nHEREWARD THE WAKE\n\n\nIn Hereward the Wake (or \"Watchful\") is found one of those heroes\nwhose date can be ascertained with a fair amount of exactness and\nyet in whose story occur mythological elements which seem to\nbelong to all ages. The folklore of primitive races is a great\nstorehouse whence a people can choose tales and heroic deeds to\nglorify its own national hero, careless that the same tales and\ndeeds have done duty for other peoples and other heroes. Hence it\nhappens that Hereward the Saxon, a patriot hero as real and actual\nas Nelson or George Washington, whose deeds were recorded in prose\nand verse within forty years of his death, was even then\nsurrounded by a cloud of romance and mystery, which hid in\nvagueness his family, his marriage, and even his death.\n\nBriefly it may be stated that Hereward was a native of\nLincolnshire, and was in his prime about 1070. In that year he\njoined a party of Danes who appeared in England, attacked\nPeterborough and sacked the abbey there, and afterward took refuge\nin the Isle of Ely. Here he was besieged by William the Conqueror,\nand was finally forced to yield to the Norman. He thus came to\nstand for the defeated Saxon race, and his name has been passed\ndown as that of the darling hero of the Saxons. For his splendid\ndefence of Ely they forgave his final surrender to Duke William;\nthey attributed to him all the virtues supposed to be inherent in\nthe free-born, and all the glorious valor on which the English\nprided themselves; and, lastly, they surrounded his death with a\nhalo of desperate fighting, and made his last conflict as\nwonderful as that of Roland at Roncesvalles. If Roland is the\nideal of Norman feudal chivalry, Hereward is equally the ideal of\nAnglo-Saxon sturdy manliness and knighthood.\n\nAn account of one of Hereward's adventures as a youth will serve\nas illustration of the stories told of his prowess. On an enforced\nvisit to Cornwall, he found that King Alef, a petty British chief,\nhad betrothed his fair daughter to a terrible Pictish giant,\nbreaking off, in order to do it, her troth-plight with Prince\nSigtryg of Waterford, son of a Danish king in Ireland. Hereward,\never chivalrous, picked a quarrel with the giant and killed him in\nfair fight, whereupon the king threw him into prison. In the\nfollowing night, however, the released princess arranged that the\ngallant Saxon should be freed and sent hot-foot for her lover,\nPrince Sigtryg. After many adventures Hereward reached the prince,\nwho hastened to return to Cornwall with the young hero. But to the\ngrief of both, they learned upon their arrival that the princess\nhad just been betrothed to a wild Cornish hero, Haco, and the\nwedding feast was to be held that very day. Sigtryg at once sent a\ntroop of forty Danes to King Alef demanding the fulfilment of the\ntroth-plight between himself and his daughter, and threatening\nvengeance if it were broken. To this threat the king returned no\nanswer, and no Dane came back to tell of their reception.\n\nSigtryg would have waited till morning, trusting in the honor of\nthe king, but Hereward disguised himself as a minstrel and\nobtained admission to the bridal feast, where he soon won applause\nby his beautiful singing. The bridegroom, Haco, in a rapture\noffered him any boon he liked to ask, but he demanded only a cup\nof wine from the hands of the bride. When she brought it to him he\nflung into the empty cup the betrothal ring, the token she had\nsent to Sigtryg, and said: \"I thank thee, lady, and would reward\nthee for thy gentleness to a wandering minstrel; I give back the\ncup, richer than before by the kind thoughts of which it bears the\ntoken.\" The princess looked at him, gazed into the goblet, and saw\nher ring; then, looking again, she recognized her deliverer and\nknew that rescue was at hand.\n\nWhile men feasted Hereward listened and talked, and found out that\nthe forty Danes were prisoners, to be released on the morrow when\nHaco was sure of his bride, but released useless and miserable,\nsince they would be turned adrift blinded. Haco was taking his\nlovely bride back to his own land, and Hereward saw that any\nrescue, to be successful, must be attempted on the march.\n\nReturning to Sigtryg, the young Saxon told all that he had\nlearned, and the Danes planned an ambush in the ravine where Haco\nhad decided to blind and set free his captives. The whole was\ncarried out exactly as Hereward arranged it. The Cornishmen, with\nthe Danish captives, passed first without attack; next came Haco,\nriding grim and ferocious beside his silent bride, he exulting in\nhis success, she looking eagerly for any signs of rescue. As they\npassed Hereward sprang from his shelter, crying, \"Upon them,\nDanes, and set your brethren free!\" and himself struck down Haco\nand smote off his head. There was a short struggle, but soon the\nrescued Danes were able to aid their deliverers, and the Cornish\nguards were all slain; the men of King Alef, never very zealous\nfor the cause of Haco, fled, and the Danes were left masters of\nthe field.\n\nSigtryg had in the meantime seen to the safety of the princess,\nand now, placing her between himself and Hereward, he escorted her\nto the ship, which soon brought them to Waterford and a happy\nbridal. The Prince and Princess of Waterford always recognized in\nHereward their deliverer and best friend, and in their gratitude\nwished him to dwell with them always; but the hero's roving and\ndaring temper forbade his settling down, but rather urged him on\nto deeds of arms in other lands, where he quickly won a renown\nsecond to none.\n\n\n\n\n\nROBIN HOOD\n\n\nAmong the earliest heirlooms of the Anglo-Saxon tongue are the\nsongs and legends of Robin Hood and his merry outlaws, which have\ncharmed readers young and old for more than six hundred years.\nThese entertaining stories date back to the time when Chaucer\nwrote his \"Canterbury Tales,\" when the minstrel and scribe stood\nin the place of the more prim and precise modern printed book.\n\nThe question of whether or not Robin Hood was a real person has\nbeen asked for many years, just as a similar question has been\nasked about William Tell and others whom everyone would much\nrather accept on faith. It cannot be answered by a brief \"yes\" or\n\"no,\" even though learned men have pored over ancient records and\nhave written books on the subject. According to the general belief\nRobin was an outlaw in the reign of Richard I, when in the depths\nof Sherwood Forest he entertained one hundred tall men, all good\narchers, with the spoil he took; but \"he suffered no woman to be\noppressed or otherwise molested; poore men's goods he spared,\nabundantlie relieving them with that which by theft he got from\nabbeys and houses of rich carles.\" Consequently Robin was an\nimmense favorite with the common people.\n\nThis popularity extended from the leader to all the members of his\nhardy band. \"God save Robin Hood and all his good yeomanry\" is the\nending of many old ballads. The clever archer who could outshoot\nhis fellows, the brave yeoman inured to blows, and the man who\ncould be true to his friends through thick and thin were favorites\nfor all time; and they have been idealized in the persons of Robin\nHood and his merry outlaws.\n\nOne of the best-known stories of this picturesque figure of early\nEnglish times is that given by Sir Walter Scott in \"Ivanhoe,\"\nconcerning the archery contest during the rule or misrule of\nPrince John, in the absence of Richard from the kingdom. Robin\nHood, under the assumed name of Locksley, boldly presents himself\nat a royal tournament at Ashby, as competitor for the prize in\nshooting with the long-bow. From the eight or ten archers who\nenter the contest, the number finally narrows down to two,--\nHubert, a forester in the service of one of the king's nobles, and\nLocksley or Robin Hood. Hubert takes the first shot in the final\ntrial of skill, and lands his arrow within the inner ring of the\ntarget, but not exactly in the centre.\n\n\"'You have not allowed for the wind, Hubert,' said Locksley, 'or\nthat had been a better shot.'\n\n\"So saying, and without showing the least anxiety to pause upon\nhis aim, Locksley stepped to the appointed station, and shot his\narrow as carelessly in appearance as if he had not even looked at\nthe mark. He was speaking almost at the instant that the shaft\nleft the bow-string, yet it alighted in the target two inches\nnearer to the white spot which marked the centre than that of\nHubert.\n\n\"'By the light of Heaven!' said Prince John to Hubert, 'an thou\nsuffer that runagate knave to overcome thee, thou art worthy of\nthe gallows!'\n\n\"Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions. 'An your\nhighness were to hang me,' he said, 'a man can but do his best.\nNevertheless, my grandsire drew a good bow--'\n\n\"'The foul fiend on thy grandsire and all his generation!'\ninterrupted John; 'shoot, knave, and shoot thy best, or it shall\nbe worse for thee!'\n\n\"Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and not neglecting the\ncaution which he had received from his adversary, he made the\nnecessary allowance for a very light air of wind, which had just\nrisen, and shot so successfully that his arrow alighted in the\nvery centre of the target.\n\n\"'A Hubert! a Hubert!' shouted the populace, more interested in a\nknown person than in a stranger. 'In the clout!--in the clout!--a\nHubert forever!'\n\n\"'Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley,' said the Prince, with\nan insulting smile.\n\n\"'I will notch his shaft for him, however,' replied Locksley.\n\n\"And letting fly his arrow with a little more precaution than\nbefore, it lighted right upon that of his competitor, which it\nsplit to shivers. The people who stood around were so astonished\nat his wonderful dexterity, that they could not even give vent to\ntheir surprise in their usual clamor. 'This must be the devil, and\nno man of flesh and blood,' whispered the yeomen to each other;\n'such archery was never seen since a bow was first bent in\nBritain.'\n\n\"'And now,' said Locksley, 'I will crave your Grace's permission\nto plant such a mark as is used in the North Country; and welcome\nevery brave yeoman who shall try a shot at it to win a smile from\nthe bonny lass he loves best.'\"\n\nLocksley thereupon sets up a willow wand, six feet long and as\nthick as a man's thumb. Hubert is forced to decline the honor of\ntaking part in such a trial of archery skill, but his rival easily\nsplits the wand at a distance of three hundred feet and carries\noff the prize.\n\n\"Even Prince John, in admiration of Locksley's skill, lost for an\ninstant his dislike to his person. 'These twenty nobles,' he said,\n'which, with the bugle, thou hast fairly won, are thine own; we\nwill make them fifty, if thou wilt take livery and service with us\nas a yeoman of our bodyguard, and be near to our person. For never\ndid so strong a hand bend a bow, or so true an eye direct a\nshaft.'\" [Footnote: Ivanhoe, Vol. 1, chap. XIII.]\n\nLocksley, however, declares that it is impossible for him to enter\nthe Prince's service, generously shares his prize with the worthy\nHubert, and retires once more to his beloved haunts among the\nlights and shadows of the good greenwood.\n\n\n\n\n\nGLOSSARY\n\n\nAbdalrahman, founder of the independent Ommiad (Saracenic) power\nin Spain, conquered at Tours by Charles Martel\n\nAberfraw, scene of nuptials of Branwen and Matholch\n\nAbsyrtus, younger brother of Medea\n\nAbydos, a town on the Hellespont, nearly opposite to Sestos\n\nAbyla, Mount, or Columna, a mountain in Morocco, near Ceuta, now\ncalled Jebel Musa or Ape's Hill, forming the Northwestern\nextremity of the African coast opposite Gibraltar (See Pillars of\nHercules)\n\nAcestes, son of a Trojan woman who was sent by her father to\nSicily, that she might not be devoured by the monsters which\ninfested the territory of Troy\n\nAcetes, Bacchanal captured by Pentheus\n\nAchates, faithful friend and companion of Aeneas\n\nAchelous, river-god of the largest river in Greece--his Horn of\nPlenty\n\nAchilles, the hero of the Iliad, son of Peleus and of the Nereid\nThetis, slain by Paris\n\nAcis, youth loved by Galatea and slain by Polyphemus\n\nAcontius, a beautiful youth, who fell in love with Cydippe, the\ndaughter of a noble Athenian.\n\nAcrisius, son of Abas, king of Argos, grandson of Lynceus, the\ngreat-grandson of Danaus.\n\nActaeon, a celebrated huntsman, son of Aristaeus and Autonoe, who,\nhaving seen Diana bathing, was changed by her to a stag and killed\nby his own dogs.\n\nAdmeta, daughter of Eurystheus, covets Hippolyta's girdle.\n\nAdmetus, king of Thessaly, saved from death by Alcestis\n\nAdonis, a youth beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), and Proserpine;\nkilled by a boar.\n\nAdrastus, a king of Argos.\n\nAeacus, son of Zeus (Jupiter) and Aegina, renowned in all Greece\nfor his justice and piety.\n\nAeaea, Circe's island, visited by Ulysses.\n\nAeetes, or Aeeta, son of Helios (the Sun) and Perseis, and father\nof Medea and Absyrtus.\n\nAegeus, king of Athens.\n\nAegina, a rocky island in the middle of the Saronic gulf.\n\nAegis, shield or breastplate of Jupiter and Minerva.\n\nAegisthus, murderer of Agamemnon, slain by Orestes.\n\nAeneas, Trojan hero, son of Anchises and Aphrodite (Venus), and\nborn on Mount Ida, reputed first settler of Rome,\n\nAeneid, poem by Virgil, relating the wanderings of Aeneas from\nTroy to Italy,\n\nAe'olus, son of Hellen and the nymph Orseis, represented in Homer\nas the happy ruler of the Aeolian Islands, to whom Zeus had given\ndominion over the winds,\n\nAesculapius, god of the medical art,\n\nAeson, father of Jason, made young again by Medea,\n\nAethiopians, inhabitants of the country south of Egypt,\n\nAethra, mother of Theseus by Aegeus,\n\nAetna, volcano in Sicily,\n\nAgamedes, brother of Trophonius, distinguished as an architect,\n\nAgamemnon, son of Plisthenis and grandson of Atreus, king of\nMycenae, although the chief commander of the Greeks, is not the\nhero of the Iliad, and in chivalrous spirit altogether inferior to\nAchilles,\n\nAgave, daughter of Cadmus, wife of Echion, and mother of Pentheus,\n\nAgenor, father of Europa, Cadmus, Cilix, and Phoenix,\n\nAglaia, one of the Graces,\n\nAgni, Hindu god of fire,\n\nAgramant, a king in Africa,\n\nAgrican, fabled king of Tartary, pursuing Angelica, finally killed\nby Orlando,\n\nAgrivain, one of Arthur's knights,\n\nAhriman, the Evil Spirit in the dual system of Zoroaster, See\nOrmuzd\n\nAjax, son of Telamon, king of Salamis, and grandson of Aeacus,\nrepresented in the Iliad as second only to Achilles in bravery,\n\nAlba, the river where King Arthur fought the Romans,\n\nAlba Longa, city in Italy founded by son of Aeneas,\n\nAlberich, dwarf guardian of Rhine gold treasure of the Nibelungs\n\nAlbracca, siege of,\n\nAlcestis, wife of Admetus, offered hersell as sacrifice to spare\nher husband, but rescued by Hercules,\n\nAlcides (Hercules),\n\nAlcina, enchantress,\n\nAlcinous, Phaeacian king,\n\nAlcippe, daughter of Mars, carried off by Halirrhothrus,\n\nAlcmena, wife of Jupiter, and mother of Hercules,\n\nAlcuin, English prelate and scholar,\n\nAldrovandus, dwarf guardian of treasure,\n\nAlecto, one of the Furies,\n\nAlexander the Great, king of Macedonia, conqueror of Greece,\nEgypt, Persia, Babylonia, and India,\n\nAlfadur, a name for Odin,\n\nAlfheim, abode of the elves of light,\n\nAlice, mother of Huon and Girard, sons of Duke Sevinus,\n\nAlphenor, son of Niobe,\n\nAlpheus, river god pursuing Arethusa, who escaped by being changed\nto a fountain,\n\nAlthaea, mother of Meleager, whom she slew because he had in a\nquarrel killed her brothers, thus disgracing \"the house of\nThestius,\" her father,\n\nAmalthea, nurse of the infant Jupiter in Crete,\n\nAmata, wife of Latinus, driven mad by Alecto,\n\nAmaury of Hauteville, false hearted Knight of Charlemagne,\n\nAmazons, mythical race of warlike women,\n\nAmbrosia, celestial food used by the gods,\n\nAmmon, Egyptian god of life identified by Romans with phases of\nJupiter, the father of gods,\n\nAmphiaraus, a great prophet and hero at Argos,\n\nAmphion, a musician, son of Jupiter and Antiope (See Dirce),\n\nAmphitrite, wife of Neptune,\n\nAmphyrsos, a small river in Thessaly,\n\nAmpyx, assailant of Perseus, turned to stone by seeing Gorgon's\nhead,\n\nAmrita, nectar giving immortality,\n\nAmun, See Ammon\n\nAmymone, one of the fifty daughters of Danaus, and mother by\nPoseidon (Neptune) of Nauplius, the father of Palamedes,\n\nAnaxarete, a maiden of Cyprus, who treated her lover Iphis with\nsuch haughtiness that he hanged himself at her door,\n\nAnbessa, Saracenic governor of Spain (725 AD),\n\nAnceus, one of the Argonauts,\n\nAnchises, beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), by whom he became the\nfather of Aeneas,\n\nAndraemon, husband of Dryope, saw her changed into a tree,\n\nAndret, a cowardly knight, spy upon Tristram,\n\nAndromache, wife of Hector\n\nAndromeda, daughter of King Cephas, delivered from monster by\nPerseus\n\nAneurin, Welsh bard\n\nAngelica, Princess of Cathay\n\nAnemone, short lived wind flower, created by Venus from the blood\nof the slain Adonis\n\nAngerbode, giant prophetess, mother of Fenris, Hela and the\nMidgard Serpent\n\nAnglesey, a Northern British island, refuge of Druids fleeing from\nRomans\n\nAntaeus, giant wrestler of Libya, killed by Hercules, who, finding\nhim stronger when thrown to the earth, lifted him into the air and\nstrangled him\n\nAntea, wife of jealous Proetus\n\nAntenor, descendants of, in Italy\n\nAnteros, deity avenging unrequited love, brother of Eros (Cupid)\n\nAnthor, a Greek\n\nAntigone, daughter of Aedipus, Greek ideal of filial and sisterly\nfidelity\n\nAntilochus, son of Nestor\n\nAntiope, Amazonian queen. See Dirce\n\nAnubis, Egyptian god, conductor of the dead to judgment\n\nApennines\n\nAphrodite See Venus, Dione, etc.\n\nApis, Egyptian bull god of Memphis\n\nApollo, god of music and song\n\nApollo Belvedere, famous antique statue in Vatican at Rome\n\nApples of the Hesperides, wedding gifts to Juno, guarded by\ndaughters of Atlas and Hesperis, stolen by Atlas for Hercules,\n\nAquilo, or Boreas, the North Wind,\n\nAquitaine, ancient province of Southwestern France,\n\nArachne, a maiden skilled in weaving, changed to a spider by\nMinerva for daring to compete with her,\n\nArcadia, a country in the middle of Peloponnesus, surrounded on\nall sides by mountains,\n\nArcady, star of, the Pole star,\n\nArcas, son of Jupiter and Callisto,\n\nArcher, constellation of the,\n\nAreopagus, court of the, at Athens,\n\nAres, called Mars by the Romans, the Greek god of war, and one of\nthe great Olympian gods,\n\nArethusa, nymph of Diana, changed to a fountain,\n\nArgius king of Ireland, father of Isoude the Fair,\n\nArgo, builder of the vessel of Jason for the Argonautic\nexpedition,\n\nArgolis, city of the Nemean games,\n\nArgonauts, Jason's crew seeking the Golden Fleece,\n\nArgos, a kingdom in Greece,\n\nArgus, of the hundred eyes, guardian of Io,\n\nAriadne, daughter of King Minos, who helped Theseus slay the\nMinotaur,\n\nArimanes SEE Ahriman.\n\nArimaspians, one-eyed people of Syria,\n\nArion, famous musician, whom sailors cast into the sea to rob him,\nbut whose lyric song charmed the dolphins, one of which bore him\nsafely to land,\n\nAristaeus, the bee keeper, in love with Eurydice,\n\nArmorica, another name for Britain,\n\nArridano, a magical ruffian, slain by Orlando,\n\nArtemis SEE Diana\n\nArthgallo, brother of Elidure, British king,\n\nArthur, king in Britain about the 6th century,\n\nAruns, an Etruscan who killed Camilla,\n\nAsgard, home of the Northern gods,\n\nAshtaroth, a cruel spirit, called by enchantment to bring Rinaldo\nto death,\n\nAske, the first man, made from an ash tree,\n\nAstolpho of England, one of Charlemagne's knights,\n\nAstraea, goddess of justice, daughter of Astraeus and Eos,\n\nAstyages, an assailant of Perseus,\n\nAstyanax, son of Hector of Troy, established kingdom of Messina in\nItaly,\n\nAsuias, opponents of the Braminical gods,\n\nAtalanta, beautiful daughter of King of Icaria, loved and won in a\nfoot race by Hippomenes,\n\nAte, the goddess of infatuation, mischief and guilt,\n\nAthamas, son of Aeolus and Enarete, and king of Orchomenus, in\nBoeotia, SEE Ino\n\nAthene, tutelary goddess of Athens, the same as Minerva,\n\nAthens, the capital of Attica, about four miles from the sea,\nbetween the small rivers Cephissus and Ilissus,\n\nAthor, Egyptian deity, progenitor of Isis and Osiris,\n\nAthos, the mountainous peninsula, also called Acte, which projects\nfrom Chalcidice in Macedonia,\n\nAtlantes, foster father of Rogero, a powerful magician,\n\nAtlantis, according to an ancient tradition, a great island west\nof the Pillars of Hercules, in the ocean, opposite Mount Atlas,\n\nAtlas, a Titan, who bore the heavens on his shoulders, as\npunishment for opposing the gods, one of the sons of Iapetus,\n\nAtlas, Mount, general name for range in northern Africa,\n\nAtropos, one of the Fates\n\nAttica, a state in ancient Greece,\n\nAudhumbla, the cow from which the giant Ymir was nursed. Her milk\nwas frost melted into raindrops,\n\nAugean stables, cleansed by Hercules,\n\nAugeas, king of Elis,\n\nAugustan age, reign of Roman Emperor Augustus Caesar, famed for\nmany great authors,\n\nAugustus, the first imperial Caesar, who ruled the Roman Empire 31\nBC--14 AD,\n\nAulis, port in Boeotia, meeting place of Greek expedition against\nTroy,\n\nAurora, identical with Eos, goddess of the dawn,\n\nAurora Borealis, splendid nocturnal luminosity in northern sky,\ncalled Northern Lights, probably electrical,\n\nAutumn, attendant of Phoebus, the Sun,\n\nAvalon, land of the Blessed, an earthly paradise in the Western\nSeas, burial place of King Arthur,\n\nAvatar, name for any of the earthly incarnations of Vishnu, the\nPreserver (Hindu god),\n\nAventine, Mount, one of the Seven Hills of Rome,\n\nAvernus, a miasmatic lake close to the promontory between Cumae\nand Puteoli, filling the crater of an extinct volcano, by the\nancients thought to be the entrance to the infernal regions,\n\nAvicenna, celebrated Arabian physician and philosopher,\n\nAya, mother of Rinaldo,\n\nAymon, Duke, father of Rinaldo and Bradamante,\n\nB\n\nBaal, king of Tyre,\n\nBabylonian River, dried up when Phaeton drove the sun chariot,\n\nBacchanali a, a feast to Bacchus that was permitted to occur but\nonce in three years, attended by most shameless orgies,\n\nBacchanals, devotees and festal dancers of Bacchus,\n\nBacchus (Dionysus), god of wine and revelry,\n\nBadon, battle of, Arthur's final victory over the Saxons,\n\nBagdemagus, King, a knight of Arthur's time,\n\nBaldur, son of Odin, and representing in Norse mythology the sun\ngod,\n\nBalisardo, Orlando's sword,\n\nBan, King of Brittany, ally of Arthur, father of Launcelot,\n\nBards, minstrels of Welsh Druids,\n\nBasilisk SEE Cockatrice\n\nBaucis, wife of Philemon, visited by Jupiter and Mercury,\n\nBayard, wild horse subdued by Rinaldo,\n\nBeal, Druids' god of life,\n\nBedivere, Arthur's knight,\n\nBedver, King Arthur's butler, made governor of Normandy,\n\nBedwyr, knightly comrade of Geraint,\n\nBelisarda, Rogero's sword,\n\nBellerophon, demigod, conqueror of the Chimaera,\n\nBellona, the Roman goddess of war, represented as the sister or\nwife of Mars,\n\nBeltane, Druidical fire festival,\n\nBelus, son of Poseidon (Neptune) and Libya or Eurynome, twin\nbrother of Agenor,\n\nBendigeid Vran, King of Britain,\n\nBeowulf, hero and king of the Swedish Geats,\n\nBeroe, nurse of Semele,\n\nBertha, mother of Orlando,\n\nBifrost, rainbow bridge between the earth and Asgard\n\nBladud, inventor, builder of the city of Bath,\n\nBlamor, a knight of Arthur,\n\nBleoberis, a knight of Arthur,\n\nBoeotia, state in ancient Greece, capital city Thebes,\n\nBohort, King, a knight of Arthur,\n\nBona Dea, a Roman divinity of fertility,\n\nBootes, also called Areas, son of Jupiter and Calisto, changed to\nconstellation of Ursa Major,\n\nBoreas, North wind, son of Aeolus and Aurora,\n\nBosporus (Bosphorus), the Cow-ford, named for Io, when as a heifer\nshe crossed that strait,\n\nBradamante, sister to Rinaldo, a female warrior,\n\nBrademagus, King, father of Sir Maleagans,\n\nBragi, Norse god of poetry,\n\nBrahma, the Creator, chief god of Hindu religion,\n\nBranwen, daughter of Llyr, King of Britain, wife of Mathclch,\n\nBreciliande, forest of, where Vivian enticed Merlin,\n\nBrengwain, maid of Isoude the Fair\n\nBrennus, son of Molmutius, went to Gaul, became King of the\nAllobroges,\n\nBreuse, the Pitiless, a caitiff knight,\n\nBriareus, hundred armed giant,\n\nBrice, Bishop, sustainer of Arthur when elected king,\n\nBrigliadoro, Orlando's horse,\n\nBriseis, captive maid belonging to Achilles,\n\nBritto, reputed ancestor of British people,\n\nBruhier, Sultan of Arabia,\n\nBrunello, dwarf, thief, and king\n\nBrunhild, leader of the Valkyrie,\n\nBrutus, great grandson of Aeneas, and founder of city of New Troy\n(London), SEE Pandrasus\n\nBryan, Sir, a knight of Arthur,\n\nBuddha, called The Enlightened, reformer of Brahmanism, deified\nteacher of self abnegation, virtue, reincarnation, Karma\n(inevitable sequence of every act), and Nirvana (beatific\nabsorption into the Divine), lived about\n\nByblos, in Egypt,\n\nByrsa, original site of Carthage,\n\nC\n\nCacus, gigantic son of Vulcan, slain by Hercules, whose captured\ncattle he stole,\n\nCadmus, son of Agenor, king of Phoenicia, and of Telephassa, and\nbrother of Europa, who, seeking his sister, carried off by\nJupiter, had strange adventures--sowing in the ground teeth of a\ndragon he had killed, which sprang up armed men who slew each\nother, all but five, who helped Cadmus to found the city of\nThebes,\n\nCaduceus, Mercury's staff,\n\nCadwallo, King of Venedotia (North Wales),\n\nCaerleon, traditional seat of Arthur's court,\n\nCaesar, Julius, Roman lawyer, general, statesman and author,\nconquered and consolidated Roman territory, making possible the\nEmpire,\n\nCaicus, a Greek river,\n\nCairns, Druidical store piles,\n\nCalais, French town facing England,\n\nCalchas, wisest soothsayer among the Greeks at Troy,\n\nCaliburn, a sword of Arthur,\n\nCalliope, one of the nine Muses\n\nCallisto, an Arcadian nymph, mother of Arcas (SEE Bootes), changed\nby Jupiter to constellation Ursa Minor,\n\nCalpe, a mountain in the south of Spain, on the strait between the\nAtlantic and Mediterranean, now Rock of Gibraltar,\n\nCalydon, home of Meleager,\n\nCalypso, queen of Island of Ogyia, where Ulysses was wrecked and\nheld seven years,\n\nCamber, son of Brutus, governor of West Albion (Wales),\n\nCamelot, legendary place in England where Arthur's court and\npalace were located,\n\nCamenae, prophetic nymphs, belonging to the religion of ancient\nItaly,\n\nCamilla, Volscian maiden, huntress and Amazonian warrior, favorite\nof Diana,\n\nCamlan, battle of, where Arthur was mortally wounded,\n\nCanterbury, English city,\n\nCapaneus, husband of Evadne, slain by Jupiter for disobedience,\n\nCapet, Hugh, King of France (987-996 AD),\n\nCaradoc Briefbras, Sir, great nephew of King Arthur,\n\nCarahue, King of Mauretania,\n\nCarthage, African city, home of Dido\n\nCassandra, daughter of Priam and Hecuba, and twin sister of\nHelenus, a prophetess, who foretold the coming of the Greeks but\nwas not believed,\n\nCassibellaunus, British chieftain, fought but not conquered by\nCaesar,\n\nCassiopeia, mother of Andromeda,\n\nCastalia, fountain of Parnassus, giving inspiration to Oracular\npriestess named Pythia,\n\nCastalian Cave, oracle of Apollo,\n\nCastes (India),\n\nCastor and Pollux--the Dioscuri, sons of Jupiter and Leda,--\nCastor a horseman, Pollux a boxer (SEE Gemini),\n\nCaucasus, Mount\n\nCavall, Arthur's favorite dog,\n\nCayster, ancient river,\n\nCebriones, Hector's charioteer,\n\nCecrops, first king of Athens,\n\nCelestials, gods of classic mythology,\n\nCeleus, shepherd who sheltered Ceres, seeking Proserpine, and\nwhose infant son Triptolemus was in gratitude made great by Ceres,\n\nCellini, Benvenuto, famous Italian sculptor and artificer in\nmetals,\n\nCeltic nations, ancient Gauls and Britons, modern Bretons, Welsh,\nIrish and Gaelic Scotch,\n\nCentaurs, originally an ancient race, inhabiting Mount Pelion in\nThessaly, in later accounts represented as half horses and half\nmen, and said to have been the offspring of Ixion and a cloud,\n\nCephalus, husband of beautiful but jealous Procris,\n\nCephe us, King of Ethiopians, father of Andromeda,\n\nCephisus, a Grecian stream,\n\nCerberus, three-headed dog that guarded the entrance to Hades,\ncalled a son of Typhaon and Echidna\n\nCERES (See Demeter)\n\nCESTUS, the girdle of Venus\n\nCEYX, King of Thessaly (See Halcyone)\n\nCHAOS, original Confusion, personified by Greeks as most ancient\nof the gods\n\nCHARLEMAGNE, king of the Franks and emperor of the Romans\n\nCHARLES MARTEL', king of the Franks, grandfather of Charlemagne,\ncalled Martel (the Hammer) from his defeat of the Saracens at\nTours\n\nCHARLOT, son of Charlemagne\n\nCHARON, son of Erebos, conveyed in his boat the shades of the dead\nacross the rivers of the lower world\n\nCHARYB'DIS, whirlpool near the coast of Sicily, See Scylla\n\nCHIMAERA, a fire breathing monster, the fore part of whose body\nwas that of a lion, the hind part that of a dragon, and the middle\nthat of a goat, slain by Bellerophon\n\nCHINA, Lamas (priests) of\n\nCHOS, island in the Grecian archipelago\n\nCHIRON, wisest of all the Centaurs, son of Cronos (Saturn) and\nPhilyra, lived on Mount Pelion, instructor of Grecian heroes\n\nCHRYSEIS, Trojan maid, taken by Agamemnon\n\nCHRYSES, priest of Apollo, father of Chryseis\n\nCICONIANS, inhabitants of Ismarus, visited by Ulysses\n\nCIMBRI, an ancient people of Central Europe\n\nCimmeria, a land of darkness\n\nCimon, Athenian general\n\nCirce, sorceress, sister of Aeetes\n\nCithaeron, Mount, scene of Bacchic worship\n\nClarimunda, wife of Huon\n\nClio, one of the Muses\n\nCloridan, a Moor\n\nClotho, one of the Fates\n\nClymene, an ocean nymph\n\nClytemnestra, wife of Agamemnon, killed by Orestes\n\nClytie, a water nymph, in love with Apollo\n\nCnidos, ancient city of Asia Minor, seat of worship of Aphrodite\n(Venus)\n\nCockatrice (or Basilisk), called King of Serpents, supposed to\nkill with its look\n\nCocytus, a river of Hades\n\nColchis, a kingdom east of the Black Sea\n\nColophon, one of the seven cities claiming the birth of Homer\n\nColumba, St, an Irish Christian missionary to Druidical parts of\nScotland\n\nConan, Welsh king\n\nConstantine, Greek emperor\n\nCordeilla, daughter of the mythical King Leir\n\nCorineus, a Trojan warrior in Albion\n\nCornwall, southwest part of Britain\n\nCortana, Ogier's sword\n\nCorybantes, priests of Cybele, or Rhea, in Phrygia, who\ncelebrated her worship with dances, to the sound of the drum and\nthe cymbal, 143\n\nCrab, constellation\n\nCranes and their enemies, the Pygmies, of Ibycus\n\nCreon, king of Thebes\n\nCrete, one of the largest islands of the Mediterranean Sea, lying\nsouth of the Cyclades\n\nCreusa, daughter of Priam, wife of Aeneas\n\nCrocale, a nymph of Diana\n\nCromlech, Druidical altar\n\nCronos, See Saturn\n\nCrotona, city of Italy\n\nCuchulain, Irish hero, called the \"Hound of Ireland,\"\n\nCuldees', followers of St. Columba, Cumaean Sibyl, seeress\nof Cumae, consulted by Aeneas, sold Sibylline books to Tarquin\n\nCupid, child of Venus and god of love\n\nCuroi of Kerry, wise man\n\nCyane, river, opposed Pluto's passage to Hades\n\nCybele (Rhea)\n\nCyclopes, creatures with circular eyes, of whom Homer speaks as a\ngigantic and lawless race of shepherds in Sicily, who devoured\nhuman beings, they helped Vulcan to forge the thunderbolts of Zeus\nunder Aetna\n\nCymbeline, king of ancient Britain\n\nCynosure (Dog's tail), the Pole star, at tail of Constellation\nUrsa Minor\n\nCynthian mountain top, birthplace of Artemis (Diana) and Apollo\n\nCyprus, island off the coast of Syria, sacred to Aphrodite\n\nCyrene, a nymph, mother of Aristaeus\n\nDaedalus, architect of the Cretan Labyrinth, inventor of sails\n\nDaguenet, King Arthur's fool\n\nDalai Lama, chief pontiff of Thibet\n\nDanae, mother of Perseus by Jupiter\n\nDanaides, the fifty daughters of Danaus, king of Argos, who were\nbetrothed to the fifty sons of Aegyptus, but were commanded by\ntheir father to slay each her own husband on the marriage night\n\nDanaus (See Danaides)\n\nDaphne, maiden loved by Apollo, and changed into a laurel tree\n\nDardanelles, ancient Hellespont\n\nDardanus, progenitor of the Trojan kings\n\nDardinel, prince of Zumara\n\nDawn, See Aurora\n\nDay, an attendant on Phoebus, the Sun\n\nDay star (Hesperus)\n\nDeath, See Hela\n\nDeiphobus, son of Priam and Hecuba, the bravest brother of Paris\n\nDejanira, wife of Hercules\n\nDelos, floating island, birthplace of Apollo and Diana\n\nDelphi, shrine of Apollo, famed for its oracles\n\nDemeter, Greek goddess of marriage and human fertility, identified\nby Romans with Ceres\n\nDemeha, South Wales\n\nDemodocus, bard of Alomous, king of the Phaeaeians\n\nDeucalion, king of Thessaly, who with his wife Pyrrha were the\nonly pair surviving a deluge sent by Zeus\n\nDia, island of\n\nDiana (Artemis), goddess of the moon and of the chase, daughter of\nJupiter and Latona\n\nDiana of the Hind, antique sculpture in the Louvre, Paris\n\nDiana, temple of\n\nDictys, a sailor\n\nDidier, king of the Lombards\n\nDido, queen of Tyre and Carthage, entertained the shipwrecked\nAeneas\n\nDiomede, Greek hero during Trojan War\n\nDione, female Titan, mother of Zeus, of Aphrodite (Venus)\n\nDionysus See Bacchus\n\nDioscuri, the Twins (See Castor and Pollux)\n\nDirce, wife of Lycus, king of Thebes, who ordered Amphion and\nZethus to tie Antiope to a wild bull, but they, learning Antiope\nto be their mother, so treated Dirce herself\n\nDis See Pluto\n\nDiscord, apple of, See Eris.\n\nDiscordia, See Eris.\n\nDodona, site of an oracle of Zeus (Jupiter)\n\nDorceus, a dog of Diana\n\nDoris, wife of Nereus\n\nDragon's teeth sown by Cadmus\n\nDruids, ancient Celtic priests\n\nDryades (or Dryads), See Wood nymphs\n\nDryope, changed to a lotus plant, for plucking a lotus--enchanted\nform of the nymph Lotis\n\nDubricius, bishop of Caerleon,\n\nDudon, a knight, comrade of Astolpho,\n\nDunwallo Molmu'tius, British king and lawgiver\n\nDurindana, sword of Orlando or Rinaldo\n\nDwarfs in Wagner's Nibelungen Ring\n\nE\n\nEarth (Gaea); goddess of the\n\nEbudians, the\n\nEcho, nymph of Diana, shunned by Narcissus, faded to nothing but a\nvoice\n\nEcklenlied, the\n\nEddas, Norse mythological records,\n\nEderyn, son of Nudd\n\nEgena, nymph of the Fountain\n\nEisteddfod, session of Welsh bards and minstrels\n\nElectra, the lost one of the Pleiades, also, sister of Orestes\n\nEleusian Mysteries, instituted by Ceres, and calculated to awaken\nfeelings of piety and a cheerful hope of better life in the future\n\nEleusis, Grecian city\n\nElgin Marbles, Greek sculptures from the Parthenon of Athens, now\nin British Museum, London, placed there by Lord Elgin\n\nEliaures, enchanter\n\nElidure, a king of Britain\n\nElis, ancient Greek city\n\nElli, old age; the one successful wrestler against Thor\n\nElphin, son of Gwyddiro\n\nElves, spiritual beings, of many powers and dispositions--some\nevil, some good\n\nElvidnir, the ball of Hela\n\nElysian Fields, the land of the blest\n\nElysian Plain, whither the favored of the gods were taken without\ndeath\n\nElysium, a happy land, where there is neither snow, nor cold, nor\nram. Hither favored heroes, like Menelaus, pass without dying, and\nlive happy under the rule of Rhadamanthus. In the Latin poets\nElysium is part of the lower world, and the residence of the\nshades of the blessed\n\nEmbla, the first woman\n\nEnseladus, giant defeated by Jupiter\n\nEndymion, a beautiful youth beloved by Diana\n\nEnid, wife of Geraint\n\nEnna, vale of home of Proserpine\n\nEnoch, the patriarch\n\nEpidaurus, a town in Argolis, on the Saronic gulf, chief seat of\nthe worship of Aeculapius, whose temple was situated near the town\n\nEpimetheus, son of Iapetus, husband of Pandora, with his brother\nPrometheus took part in creation of man\n\nEpirus, country to the west of Thessaly, lying along the Adriatic\nSea\n\nEpopeus, a sailor\n\nErato, one of the Muses\n\nErbin of Cornwall, father of Geraint\n\nErebus, son of Chaos, region of darkness, entrance to Hades\n\nEridanus, river\n\nErinys, one of the Furies\n\nEriphyle, sister of Polynices, bribed to decide on war, in which\nher husband was slain\n\nEris (Discordia), goddess of discord. At the wedding of Peleus and\nThetis, Eris being uninvited threw into the gathering an apple\n\"For the Fairest,\" which was claimed by Hera (Juno), Aphrodite\n(Venus) and Athena (Minerva) Paris, being called upon for\njudgment, awarded it to Aphrodite\n\nErisichthon, an unbeliever, punished by famine\n\nEros See Cupid\n\nErytheia, island\n\nEryx, a mount, haunt of Venus\n\nEsepus, river in Paphlagonia\n\nEstrildis, wife of Locrine, supplanting divorced Guendolen\n\nEteocles, son of Oeipus and Jocasta\n\nEtruscans, ancient people of Italy,\n\nEtzel, king of the Huns\n\nEuboic Sea, where Hercules threw Lichas, who brought him the\npoisoned shirt of Nessus\n\nEude, king of Aquitaine, ally of Charles Martel\n\nEumaeus, swineherd of Aeeas\n\nEumenides, also called Erinnyes, and by the Romans Furiae or\nDiraae, the Avenging Deities, See Furies\n\nEuphorbus, a Trojan, killed by Menelaus\n\nEuphros'yne, one of the Graces\n\nEuropa, daughter of the Phoenician king Agenor, by Zeus the mother\nof Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Sarpedon\n\nEurus, the East wind\n\nEuyalus, a gallant Trojan soldier, who with Nisus entered the\nGrecian camp, both being slain,\n\nEurydice, wife of Orpheus, who, fleeing from an admirer, was\nkilled by a snake and borne to Tartarus, where Orpheus sought her\nand was permitted to bring her to earth if he would not look back\nat her following him, but he did, and she returned to the Shades,\n\nEurylochus, a companion of Ulysses,\n\nEurynome, female Titan, wife of Ophlon\n\nEurystheus, taskmaster of Hercules,\n\nEurytion, a Centaur (See Hippodamia),\n\nEuterpe, Muse who presided over music,\n\nEvadne, wife of Capaneus, who flung herself upon his funeral pile\nand perished with him\n\nEvander, Arcadian chief, befriending Aeneas in Italy,\n\nEvnissyen, quarrelsome brother of Branwen,\n\nExcalibar, sword of King Arthur,\n\nF\n\nFafner, a giant turned dragon, treasure stealer, by the Solar\nTheory simply the Darkness who steals the day,\n\nFalerina, an enchantress,\n\nFasolt, a giant, brother of Fafner, and killed by him,\n\n\"Fasti,\" Ovid's, a mythological poetic calendar,\n\nFATA MORGANA, a mirage\n\nFATES, the three, described as daughters of Night--to indicate the\ndarkness and obscurity of human destiny--or of Zeus and Themis,\nthat is, \"daughters of the just heavens\" they were Clo'tho, who\nspun the thread of life, Lach'esis, who held the thread and fixed\nits length and At'ropos, who cut it off\n\nFAUNS, cheerful sylvan deities, represented in human form, with\nsmall horns, pointed ears, and sometimes goat's tail\n\nFAUNUS, son of Picus, grandson of Saturnus, and father of Latinus,\nworshipped as the protecting deity of agriculture and of\nshepherds, and also as a giver of oracles\n\nFAVONIUS, the West wind\n\nFEAR\n\nFENRIS, a wolf, the son of Loki the Evil Principle of Scandinavia,\nsupposed to have personated the element of fire, destructive\nexcept when chained\n\nFENSALIR, Freya's palace, called the Hall of the Sea, where were\nbrought together lovers, husbands, and wives who had been\nseparated by death\n\nFERRAGUS, a giant, opponent of Orlando\n\nFERRAU, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nFERREX. brother of Porrex, the two sons of Leir\n\nFIRE WORSHIPPERS, of ancient Persia, See Parsees FLOLLO, Roman\ntribune in Gaul\n\nFLORA, Roman goddess of flowers and spring\n\nFLORDELIS, fair maiden beloved by Florismart\n\nFLORISMART, Sir, a brave knight,\n\nFLOSSHILDA, one of the Rhine daughters\n\nFORTUNATE FIELDS\n\nFORTUNATE ISLANDS (See Elysian Plain)\n\nFORUM, market place and open square for public meetings in Rome,\nsurrounded by court houses, palaces, temples, etc\n\nFRANCUS, son of Histion, grandson of Japhet, great grandson of\nNoah, legendary ancestor of the Franks, or French\n\nFREKI, one of Odin's two wolves\n\nFREY, or Freyr, god of the sun\n\nFREYA, Norse goddess of music, spring, and flowers\n\nFRICKA, goddess of marriage\n\nFRIGGA, goddess who presided over smiling nature, sending\nsunshine, rain, and harvest\n\nFROH, one of the Norse gods\n\nFRONTI'NO, Rogero's horse\n\nFURIES (Erinnyes), the three retributive spirits who punished\ncrime, represented as snaky haired old woman, named Alecto,\nMegaeira, and Tisiphone\n\nFUSBERTA, Rinaldo's sword\n\nG\n\nGAEA, or Ge, called Tellus by the Romans, the personification of\nthe earth, described as the first being that sprang fiom Chaos,\nand gave birth to Uranus (Heaven) and Pontus (Sea)\n\nGAHARIET, knight of Arthur's court\n\nGAHERIS, knight\n\nGALAFRON, King of Cathay, father of Angelica\n\nGALAHAD, Sir, the pure knight of Arthur's Round Table, who safely\ntook the Siege Perilous (which See)\n\nGALATEA, a Nereid or sea nymph\n\nGALATEA, statue carved and beloved by Pygmalion\n\nGALEN, Greek physician and philosophical writer\n\nGALLEHANT, King of the Marches\n\nGAMES, national athletic contests in Greece--Olympian, at Olympia,\nPythian, near Delphi, seat of Apollo's oracle, Isthmian, on the\nCorinthian Isthmus, Nemean, at Nemea in Argolis\n\nGAN, treacherous Duke of Maganza\n\nGANELON of Mayence, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nGANGES, river in India\n\nGANO, a peer of Charlemagne\n\nGANYMEDE, the most beautiful of all mortals, carried off to\nOlympus that he might fill the cup of Zeus and live among the\nimmortal gods\n\nGARETH, Arthur's knight\n\nGAUDISSO, Sultan\n\nGAUL, ancient France\n\nGAUTAMA, Prince, the Buddha\n\nGAWAIN, Arthur's knight\n\nGAWL, son of Clud, suitor for Rhiannon\n\nGEMINI (See Castor), constellation created by Jupiter from the\ntwin brothers after death, 158\n\nGENGHIS Khan, Tartar conqueror\n\nGENIUS, in Roman belief, the protective Spirit of each individual\nman, See Juno\n\nGEOFFREY OF MON'MOUTH, translator into Latin of the Welsh History\nof the Kings of Britain (1150)\n\nGERAINT, a knight of King Arthur\n\nGERDA, wife of Frey\n\nGERI, one of Odin's two wolves\n\nGERYON, a three bodied monster\n\nGESNES, navigator sent for Isoude the Fair\n\nGIALLAR HORN, the trumpet that Heimdal will blow at the judgment\nday\n\nGIANTS, beings of monstrous size and of fearful countenances,\nrepresented as in constant opposition to the gods, in Wagner's\nNibelungen Ring\n\nGIBICHUNG RACE, ancestors of Alberich\n\nGIBRALTAR, great rock and town at southwest corner of Spain (See\nPillars of Hercules)\n\nGILDAS, a scholar of Arthur's court\n\nGIRARD, son of Duke Sevinus\n\nGLASTONBURY, where Arthur died\n\nGLAUCUS, a fisherman, loving Scylla\n\nGLEIPNIR, magical chain on the wolf Fenris\n\nGLEWLWYD, Arthur's porter\n\nGOLDEN FLEECE, of ram used for escape of children of Athamas,\nnamed Helle and Phryxus (which See), after sacrifice of ram to\nJupiter, fleece was guarded by sleepless dragon and gained by\nJason and Argonauts (which See, also Helle)\n\nGONERIL, daughter of Leir\n\nGORDIAN KNOT, tying up in temple the wagon of Gordius, he who\ncould untie it being destined to be lord of Asia, it was cut by\nAlexander the Great, 48\n\nGordius, a countryman who, arriving in Phrygia in a wagon, was\nmade king by the people, thus interpreting an oracle, 48\n\nGorgons, three monstrous females, with huge teeth, brazen claws\nand snakes for hair, sight of whom turned beholders to stone,\nMedusa, the most famous, slain by Perseus\n\nGorlois, Duke of Tintadel\n\nGouvernail, squire of Isabella, queen of Lionesse, protector of\nher son Tristram while young, and his squire in knighthood\n\nGraal, the Holy, cup from which the Saviour drank at Last Supper,\ntaken by Joseph of Arimathea to Europe, and lost, its recovery\nbecoming a sacred quest for Arthur's knights\n\nGraces, three goddesses who enhanced the enjoyments of life by\nrefinement and gentleness; they were Aglaia (brilliance),\nEuphrosyne (joy), and Thalia (bloom)\n\nGradas'so, king of Sericane\n\nGraeae, three gray haired female watchers for the Gorgons, with\none movable eye and one tooth between the three\n\nGrand Lama, Buddhist pontiff in Thibet\n\nGrendel, monster slain by Beowulf\n\nGryphon (griffin), a fabulous animal, with the body of a lion and\nthe head and wings of an eagle, dwelling in the Rhipaean\nmountains, between the Hyperboreans and the one eyed Arimaspians,\nand guarding the gold of the North,\n\nGuebers, Persian fire worshippers,\n\nGuendolen, wife of Locrine,\n\nGuenevere, wife of King Arthur, beloved by Launcelot,\n\nGuerin, lord of Vienne, father of Oliver,\n\nGuiderius, son of Cymbeline,\n\nGuillamurius, king in Ireland,\n\nGuimier, betrothed of Caradoc,\n\nGullinbursti, the boar drawing Frey's car,\n\nGulltopp, Heimdell's horse,\n\nGunfasius, King of the Orkneys,\n\nGanther, Burgundian king, brother of Kriemhild,\n\nGutrune, half sister to Hagen,\n\nGwern son of Matholch and Branwen,\n\nGwernach the Giant,\n\nGwiffert Petit, ally of Geraint,\n\nGwyddno, Garanhir, King of Gwaelod,\n\nGwyr, judge in the court of Arthur,\n\nGyoll, river,\n\nH\n\nHades, originally the god of the nether world--the name later\nused to designate the gloomy subterranean land of the dead,\n\nHaemon, son of Creon of Thebes, and lover of Antigone,\n\nHaemonian city,\n\nHaemus, Mount, northern boundary of Thrace,\n\nHagan, a principal character in the Nibelungen Lied, slayer of\nSiegfried,\n\nHALCYONE, daughter of Aeneas, and the beloved wife of Ceyx, who,\nwhen he was drowned, flew to his floating body, and the pitying\ngods changed them both to birds (kingfishers), who nest at sea\nduring a certain calm week in winter (\"halcyon weather\")\n\nHAMADRYADS, tree-nymphs or wood-nymphs, See Nymphs\n\nHARMONIA, daughter of Mars and Venus, wife of Cadmus\n\nHAROUN AL RASCHID, Caliph of Arabia, contemporary of Charlemagne\n\nHARPIES, monsters, with head and bust of woman, but wings, legs\nand tail of birds, seizing souls of the wicked, or punishing\nevildoers by greedily snatching or defiling their food\n\nHARPOCRATES, Egyptian god, Horus\n\nHEBE, daughter of Juno, cupbearer to the gods\n\nHEBRUS, ancient name of river Maritzka\n\nHECATE, a mighty and formidable divinity, supposed to send at\nnight all kinds of demons and terrible phantoms from the lower\nworld\n\nHECTOR, son of Priam and champion of Troy\n\nHECTOR, one of Arthur's knights\n\nHECTOR DE MARYS', a knight\n\nHECUBA, wife of Priam, king of Troy, to whom she bore Hector,\nParis, and many other children\n\nHEGIRA, flight of Mahomet from Mecca to Medina (622 AD), era from\nwhich Mahometans reckon time, as we do from the birth of Christ\n\nHEIDRUN, she goat, furnishing mead for slain heroes in Valhalla\n\nHEIMDALL, watchman of the gods\n\nHEL, the lower world of Scandinavia, to which were consigned those\nwho had not died in battle\n\nHELA (Death), the daughter of Loki and the mistress of the\nScandinavian Hel\n\nHELEN, daughter of Jupiter and Leda, wife of Menelaus, carried\noff by Paris and cause of the Trojan War\n\nHELENUS, son of Priam and Hecuba, celebrated for his prophetic\npowers\n\nHELIADES, sisters of Phaeton\n\nHELICON, Mount, in Greece, residence of Apollo and the Muses,\nwith fountains of poetic inspiration, Aganippe and Hippocrene\n\nHELIOOPOLIS, city of the Sun, in Egypt\n\nHELLAS, Gieece\n\nHELLE, daughter of Thessalian King Athamas, who, escaping from\ncruel father with her brother Phryxus, on ram with golden fleece,\nfell into the sea strait since named for her (See Golden Fleece)\n\nHELLESPONt, narrow strait between Europe and Asia Minor, named for\nHelle\n\nHENGIST, Saxon invader of Britain, 449 AD\n\nHEPHAESTOS, See VULCAN\n\nHERA, called Juno by the Romans, a daughter of Cronos (Saturn)\nand Rhea, and sister and wife of Jupiter, See JUNO\n\nHERCULES, athletic hero, son of Jupiter and Alcmena, achieved\ntwelve vast labors and many famous deeds\n\nHEREWARD THE WAKE, hero of the Saxons\n\nHERMES (Mercury), messenger of the gods, deity of commerce,\nscience, eloquence, trickery, theft, and skill generally\n\nHERMIONE, daughter of Menelaus and Helen\n\nHERMOD, the nimble, son of Odin\n\nHERO, a priestess of Venus, beloved of Leander\n\nHERODOTUS, Greek historian\n\nHESIOD, Greek poet\n\nHESPERIA, ancient name for Italy\n\nHESPERIDES (See Apples of the Hesperides)\n\nHESPERUS, the evening star (also called Day Star)\n\nHESTIA, cilled Vesta by the Romans, the goddess of the hearth\n\nHILDEBRAND, German magician and champion\n\nHINDU TRIAD, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva\n\nHIPPOCRENE (See Helicon)\n\nHIPPODAMIA, wife of Pirithous, at whose wedding the Centaurs\noffered violence to the bride, causing a great battle\n\nHIPPOGRIFF, winged horse, with eagle's head and claws\n\nHIPPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons\n\nHippolytus, son of Thesus\n\nHIPPOMENES, who won Atalanta in foot race, beguiling her with\ngolden apples thrown for her to\n\nHISTION, son of Japhet\n\nHODUR, blind man, who, fooled by\n\nLoki, threw a mistletoe twig at Baldur, killing him\n\nHOEL, king of Brittany\n\nHOMER, the blind poet of Greece, about 850 B C\n\nHOPE (See PANDORA)\n\nHORAE See HOURS\n\nHORSA, with Hengist, invader of Britain\n\nHORUS, Egyptian god of the sun\n\nHOUDAIN, Tristram's dog\n\nHRINGHAM, Baldur's ship\n\nHROTHGAR, king of Denmark\n\nHUGI, who beat Thialfi in foot races\n\nHUGIN, one of Odin's two ravens\n\nHUNDING, husband of Sieglinda\n\nHUON, son of Duke Sevinus\n\nHYACINTHUS, a youth beloved by Apollo, and accidentally killed by\nhim, changed in death to the flower, hyacinth\n\nHYADES, Nysaean nymphs, nurses of infant Bacchus, rewarded by\nbeing placed as cluster of stars in the heavens\n\nHYALE, a nymph of Diana\n\nHYDRA, nine headed monster slain by Hercules\n\nHYGEIA, goddess of health, daughter of Aesculapius\n\nHYLAS, a youth detained by nymphs of spring where he sought water\n\nHYMEN, the god of marriage, imagined as a handsome youth and\ninvoked in bridal songs\n\nHYMETTUS, mountain in Attica, near Athens, celebrated for its\nmarble and its honey\n\nHYPERBOREANS, people of the far North\n\nHYPERION, a Titan, son of Uranus and Ge, and father of Helios,\nSelene, and Eos, cattle of,\n\nHyrcania, Prince of, betrothed to Clarimunda\n\nHyrieus, king in Greece,\n\nI\n\nIapetus, a Titan, son of Uranus and Ge, and father of Atlas,\nPrometheus, Epimetheus, and Menoetius,\n\nIasius, father of Atalanta\n\nIbycus, a poet, story of, and the cranes\n\nIcaria, island of the Aegean Sea, one of the Sporades\n\nIcarius, Spartan prince, father of Penelope\n\nIcarus, son of Daedalus, he flew too near the sun with artificial\nwings, and, the wax melting, he fell into the sea\n\nIcelos, attendant of Morpheus\n\nIcolumkill SEE Iona\n\nIda, Mount, a Trojan hill\n\nIdaeus, a Trojan herald\n\nIdas, son of Aphareus and Arene, and brother of Lynceus Idu'na,\nwife of Bragi\n\nIgerne, wife of Gorlois, and mother, by Uther, of Arthur\n\nIliad, epic poem of the Trojan War, by Homer\n\nIlioheus, a son of Niobe\n\nIlium SEE Troy\n\nIllyria, Adriatic countries north of Greece\n\nImogen, daughter of Pandrasus, wife of Trojan Brutus\n\nInachus, son of Oceanus and Tethys, and father of Phoroneus and\nIo, also first king of Argos, and said to have given his name to\nthe river Inachus\n\nINCUBUS, an evil spirit, supposed to lie upon persons in their\nsleep\n\nINDRA, Hindu god of heaven, thunder, lightning, storm and rain\n\nINO, wife of Athamas, fleeing from whom with infant son she sprang\ninto the sea and was changed to Leucothea\n\nIO, changed to a heifer by Jupiter\n\nIOBATES, King of Lycia\n\nIOLAUS, servant of Hercules\n\nIOLE, sister of Dryope\n\nIONA, or Icolmkill, a small northern island near Scotland, where\nSt Columba founded a missionary monastery (563 AD)\n\nIONIA, coast of Asia Minor\n\nIPHIGENIA, daughter of Agamemnon, offered as a sacrifice but\ncarried away by Diana\n\nIPHIS, died for love of Anaxarete, 78\n\nIPHITAS, friend of Hercules, killed by him\n\nIRIS, goddess of the rainbow, messenger of Juno and Zeus\n\nIRONSIDE, Arthur's knight\n\nISABELLA, daughter of king of Galicia\n\nISIS, wife of Osiris, described as the giver of death\n\nISLES OF THE BLESSED\n\nISMARUS, first stop of Ulysses, returning from Trojan War\nISME'NOS, a son of Niobe, slain by Apollo\n\nISOLIER, friend of Rinaldo\n\nISOUDE THE FAIR, beloved of Tristram\n\nISOUDE OF THE WHITE HANDS, married to Tristram\n\nISTHMIAN GAMES, See GAMES\n\nITHACA, home of Ulysses and Penelope\n\nIULUS, son of Aeneas\n\nIVO, Saracen king, befriending Rinaldo\n\nIXION, once a sovereign of Thessaly, sentenced in Tartarus to be\nlashed with serpents to a wheel which a strong wind drove\ncontinually around\n\nJ\n\nJANICULUM, Roman fortress on the Janiculus, a hill on the other\nside of the Tiber\n\nJANUS, a deity from the earliest times held in high estimation by\nthe Romans, temple of\n\nJAPHET (Iapetus)\n\nJASON, leader of the Argonauts, seeking the Golden Fleece\n\nJOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA, who bore the Holy Graal to Europe\n\nJOTUNHEIM, home of the giants in Northern mythology\n\nJOVE (Zeus), chief god of Roman and Grecian mythology, See JUPITER\n\nJOYOUS GARDE, residence of Sir Launcelot of the Lake\n\nJUGGERNAUT, Hindu deity\n\nJUNO, the particular guardian spirit of each woman (See Genius)\n\nJUNO, wife of Jupiter, queen of the gods\n\nJUPITER, JOVIS PATER, FATHER JOVE, JUPITER and JOVE used\ninterchangeably, at Dodona, statue of the Olympian\n\nJUPITER AMMON (See Ammon)\n\nJUPITER CAPITOLINUS, temple of, preserving the Sibylline books\n\nJUSTICE, See THEMIS\n\nK\n\nKADYRIATH, advises King Arthur\n\nKAI, son of Kyner\n\nKALKI, tenth avatar of Vishnu\n\nKAY, Arthur's steward and a knight\n\nKEDALION, guide of Orion\n\nKERMAN, desert of\n\nKICVA, daughter of Gwynn Gloy\n\nKILWICH, son of Kilydd\n\nKILYDD, son of Prince Kelyddon, of Wales\n\nKNEPH, spirit or breath\n\nKNIGHTS, training and life of\n\nKRIEMHILD, wife of Siegfried\n\nKRISHNA, eighth avatar of Vishnu, Hindu deity of fertility in\nnature and mankind\n\nKYNER, father of Kav\n\nKYNON, son of Clydno\n\nL\n\nLABYRINTH, the enclosed maze of passageways where roamed the\nMinotaur of Crete, killed by Theseus with aid of Ariadne\n\nLACHESIS, one of the Fates (which See)\n\nLADY OF THE FOUNTAIN, tale told by Kynon\n\nLAERTES, father of Ulysses\n\nLAESTRYGONIANS, savages attacking Ulysses\n\nLAIUS, King of Thebes\n\nLAMA, holy man of Thibet\n\nLAMPETIA, daughter of Hyperion LAOC'OON, a priest of Neptune, in\nTroy, who warned the Trojans against the Wooden Horse (which See),\nbut when two serpents came out of the sea and strangled him and\nhis two sons, the people listened to the Greek spy Sinon, and\nbrought the fatal Horse into the town\n\nLAODAMIA, daughter of Acastus and wife of Protesilaus\n\nLAODEGAN, King of Carmalide, helped by Arthur and Merlin\n\nLAOMEDON, King of Troy\n\nLAPITHAE, Thessalonians, whose king had invited the Centaurs to\nhis daughter's wedding but who attacked them for offering violence\nto the bride\n\nLARES, household deities\n\nLARKSPUR, flower from the blood of Ajax\n\nLATINUS, ruler of Latium, where Aeneas landed in Italy\n\nLATMOS, Mount, where Diana fell in love with Endymion\n\nLATONA, mother of Apollo\n\nLAUNCELOT, the most famous knight of the Round Table\n\nLAUSUS, son of Mezentius, killed by Aeneas\n\nLAVINIA, daughter of Latinus and wife of Aeneas\n\nLAVINIUM, Italian city named for Lavinia\n\nLAW, See THEMIS\n\nLEANDER, a youth of Abydos, who, swimming the Hellespont to see\nHero, his love, was drowned\n\nLEBADEA, site of the oracle of Trophomus\n\nLEBYNTHOS, Aegean island\n\nLEDA, Queen of Sparta, wooed by Jupiter in the form of a swan\n\nLEIR, mythical King of Britain, original of Shakespeare's Lear\n\nLELAPS, dog of Cephalus\n\nLEMNOS, large island in the Aegean Sea, sacred to Vulcan\n\nLEMURES, the spectres or spirits of the dead\n\nLEO, Roman emperor, Greek prince\n\nLETHE, river of Hades, drinking whose water caused forgetfulness\n\nLEUCADIA, a promontory, whence Sappho, disappointed in love, was\nsaid to have thrown herself into the sea\n\nLEUCOTHEA, a sea goddess, invoked by sailors for protection (See\nIno)\n\nLEWIS, son of Charlemagne\n\nLIBER, ancient god of fruitfulness\n\nLIBETHRA, burial place of Orpheus\n\nLIBYA, Greek name for continent of Africa in general\n\nLIBYAN DESERT, in Africa\n\nLIBYAN OASIS\n\nLICHAS, who brought the shirt of Nessus to Hercules\n\nLIMOURS, Earl of\n\nLINUS, musical instructor of Hercules\n\nLIONEL, knight of the Round Table\n\nLLYR, King of Britain\n\nLOCRINE, son of Brutus in Albion, king of Central England\n\nLOEGRIA, kingdom of (England)\n\nLOGESTILLA, a wise lady, who entertained Rogero and his friends\n\nLOGI, who vanquished Loki in an eating contest\n\nLOKI, the Satan of Norse mythology, son of the giant Farbanti\n\nLOT, King, a rebel chief, subdued by King Arthur, then a loyal\nknight\n\nLOTIS, a nymph, changed to a lotus-plant and in that form plucked\nby Dryope\n\nLOTUS EATERS, soothed to indolence, companions of Ulysses landing\namong them lost all memory of home and had to be dragged away\nbefore they would continue their voyage\n\nLOVE (Eros) issued from egg of Night, and with arrows and torch\nproduced life and joy\n\nLUCAN, one of Arthur's knights\n\nLucius Tiberius, Roman procurator in Britain demanding tribute\nfrom Arthur\n\nLUD, British king, whose capital was called Lud's Town (London)\n\nLUDGATE, city gate where Lud was buried, 387\n\nLUNED, maiden who guided Owain to the Lady of the Fountain\n\nLYCAHAS, a turbulent sailor\n\nLYCAON, son of Priam\n\nLYCIA, a district in Southern Asia Minor\n\nLYCOMODES, king of the Dolopians, who treacherously slew Theseus\n\nLYCUS, usurping King of Thebes\n\nLYNCEUS, one of the sons of Aegyptus\n\nM\n\nMABINOGEON, plural of Mabinogi, fairy tales and romances of the\nWelsh\n\nMABON, son of Modron\n\nMACHAON, son of Aesculapius\n\nMADAN, son of Guendolen\n\nMADOC, a forester of King Arthur\n\nMADOR, Scottish knight\n\nMAELGAN, king who imprisoned Elphin\n\nMAEONIA, ancient Lydia\n\nMAGI, Persian priests\n\nMAHADEVA, same as Siva\n\nMAHOMET, great prophet of Arabia, born in Mecca, 571 AD,\nproclaimed worship of God instead of idols, spread his religion\nthrough disciples and then by force till it prevailed, with\nArabian dominion, over vast regions in Asia, Africa, and Spain in\nEurope\n\nMAIA, daughter of Atlas and Pleione, eldest and most beautiful of\nthe Pleiades\n\nMALAGIGI the Enchanter, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nMALEAGANS, false knight\n\nMALVASIUS, King of Iceland\n\nMAMBRINO, with invisible helmet\n\nMANAWYD DAN, brother of King Vran, of London\n\nMANDRICARDO, son of Agrican\n\nMANTUA, in Italy, birthplace of Virgil\n\nMANU, ancestor of mankind\n\nMARATHON, where Theseus and Pirithous met\n\nMARK, King of Cornwall, husband of Isoude the Fair\n\nMARO See VIRGIL\n\nMARPHISA, sister of Rogero\n\nMARSILIUS, Spanish king, treacherous foe of Charlemagne\n\nMARSYAS, inventor of the flute, who challenged Apollo to musical\ncompetition, and, defeated, was flayed alive\n\nMATSYA, the Fish, first avatar of Vishnu\n\nMEANDER, Grecian river\n\nMEDE, A, princess and sorceress who aided Jason\n\nMEDORO, a young Moor, who wins Angelica\n\nMEDUSA, one of the Gorgons\n\nMEGAERA, one of the Furies\n\nMELAMPUS, a Spartan dog, the first mortal endowed with prophetic\npowers\n\nMELANTHUS, steersman for Bacchus\n\nMELEAGER, one of the Argonauts (See Althaea)\n\nMELIADUS, King of Lionesse, near Cornwall\n\nMELICERTES, infant son of Ino. changed to Palaemon (See Ino,\nLeucothea, and Palasmon)\n\nMELISSA, priestess at Merlin's tomb\n\nMELISSEUS, a Cretan king\n\nMELPOMENE, one of the Muses\n\nMEMNON, the beautiful son of Tithonus and Eos (Aurora), and king\nof the Ethiopians, slain in Trojan War\n\nMEMPHIS, Egyptian city\n\nMENELAUS, son of King of Sparta, husband of Helen\n\nMENOECEUS, son of Creon, voluntary victim in war to gain success\nfor his father\n\nMENTOR, son of Alcimus and a faithful friend of Ulysses\n\nMERCURY (See HERMES)\n\nMERLIN, enchanter\n\nMEROPE, daughter of King of Chios, beloved by Orion\n\nMESMERISM, likened to curative oracle of Aesculapius at Epidaurus\n\nMETABUS, father of Camilla\n\nMETAMORPHOSES, Ovid's poetical legends of mythical\ntransformations, a large source of our knowledge of classic\nmythology\n\nMETANIRA, a mother, kind to Ceres seeking Proserpine\n\nMETEMPSYCHOSIS, transmigration of souls--rebirth of dying men\nand women in forms of animals or human beings\n\nMETIS, Prudence, a spouse of Jupiter\n\nMEZENTIUS, a brave but cruel soldier, opposing Aeneas in Italy\n\nMIDAS\n\nMIDGARD, the middle world of the Norsemen\n\nMIDGARD SERPENT, a sea monster, child of Loki\n\nMILKY WAY, starred path across the sky, believed to be road to\npalace of the gods\n\nMILO, a great athlete\n\nMLON, father of Orlando\n\nMILTON, John, great English poet, whose History of England is here\nlargely used\n\nMIME, one of the chief dwarfs of ancient German mythology\n\nMINERVA (Athene), daughter of Jupiter, patroness of health,\nlearning, and wisdom\n\nMINOS, King of Crete\n\nMINO TAUR, monster killed by Theseus\n\nMISTLETOE, fatal to Baldur\n\nMNEMOSYNE, one of the Muses\n\nMODESTY, statue to\n\nMODRED, nephew of King Arthur\n\nMOLY, plant, powerful against sorcery\n\nMOMUS, a deity whose delight was to jeer bitterly at gods and men\n\nMONAD, the \"unit\" of Pythagoras\n\nMONSTERS, unnatural beings, evilly disposed to men\n\nMONTALBAN, Rinaldo's castle\n\nMONTH, the, attendant upon the Sun\n\nMOON, goddess of, see DIANA\n\nMORAUNT, knight, an Irish champion\n\nMORGANA, enchantress, the Lady of the Lake in \"Orlando Furioso,\"\nsame as Morgane Le Fay in tales of Arthur\n\nMORGANE LE FAY, Queen of Norway, King Arthur's sister, an\nenchantress\n\nMORGAN TUD, Arthur's chief physician\n\nMORPHEUS, son of Sleep and god of dreams\n\nMORTE D'ARTHUr, romance, by Sir Thomas Mallory\n\nMULCIBER, Latin name of Vulcan\n\nMULL, Island of\n\nMUNIN, one of Odin's two ravens\n\nMUSAEUS, sacred poet, son of Orpheus\n\nMUSES, The, nine goddesses presiding over poetry, etc--Calliope,\nepic poetry, Clio, history, Erato, love poetry, Euterpe, lyric\npoetry; Melpomene, tragedy, Polyhymnia, oratory and sacred song\nTerpsichore, choral song and dance, Thalia, comedy and idyls,\nUrania, astronomy\n\nMUSPELHEIM, the fire world of the Norsemen\n\nMYCENAS, ancient Grecian city, of which Agamemnon was king\n\nMYRDDIN (Merlin)\n\nMYRMIDONS, bold soldiers of Achilles\n\nMYSIA, Greek district on northwest coast of Asia Minor\n\nMYTHOLOGY, origin of, collected myths, describing gods of early\npeoples\n\nN\n\nNAIADS, water nymphs\n\nNAMO, Duke of Bavaria, one of Charlemagne's knights\n\nNANNA, wife of Baldur\n\nNANTERS, British king\n\nNANTES, site of Caradoc's castle\n\nNAPE, a dog of Diana\n\nNARCISSUS, who died of unsatisfied love for his own image in the\nwater\n\nNAUSICAA, daughter of King Alcinous, who befriended Ulysses\n\nNAUSITHOUS, king of Phaeacians\n\nNAXOS, Island of\n\nNEGUS, King of Abyssinia\n\nNEMEA, forest devastated by a lion killed by Hercules\n\nNEMEAN GAMES, held in honor of Jupiter and Hercules\n\nNEMEAN LION, killed by Hercules\n\nNEMESIS, goddess of vengeance\n\nNENNIUS, British combatant of Caesar\n\nNEOPTOLEMUS, son of Achilles\n\nNEPENTHE, ancient drug to cause forgetfulness of pain or distress\n\nNEPHELE, mother of Phryxus and Helle\n\nNEPHTHYS, Egyptian goddess\n\nNEPTUNE, identical with Poseidon, god of the sea\n\nNEREIDS, sea nymphs, daughters of Nereus and Doris\n\nNEREUS, a sea god\n\nNESSUS, a centaur killed by Hercules, whose jealous wife sent him\na robe or shirt steeped in the blood of Nessus, which poisoned him\n\nNESTOR, king of Pylos, renowned for his wisdom, justice, and\nknowledge of war\n\nNIBELUNGEN HOARD, treasure seized by Siegfried from the\nNibelungs, buried in the Rhine by Hagan after killing Siegfried,\nand lost when Hagan was killed by Kriemhild, theme of Wagner's\nfour music dramas, \"The Ring of the Nibelungen,\"\n\nNIBELUNGEN LIED, German epic, giving the same nature myth as the\nNorse Volsunga Saga, concerning the Hoard\n\nNIBELUNGEN RING, Wagner's music dramas\n\nNIBELUNGS, the, a race of Northern dwarfs\n\nNIDHOGGE, a serpent in the lower world that lives on the dead\n\nNIFFLEHEIM, mist world of the Norsemen, the Hades of absent\nspirits\n\nNILE, Egyptian river\n\nNIOBE, daughter of Tantalus, proud Queen of Thebes, whose seven\nsons and seven daughters were killed by Apollo and Diana, at which\nAmphion, her husband, killed himself, and Niobe wept until she was\nturned to stone\n\nNISUS, King of Megara\n\nNOAH, as legendary ancestor of French, Roman, German, and British\npeoples\n\nNOMAN, name assumed by Ulysses\n\nNORNS, the three Scandinavian Fates, Urdur (the past), Verdandi\n(the present), and Skuld (the future)\n\nNOTHUNG, magic sword\n\nNOTUS, southwest wind\n\nNOX, daughter of Chaos and sister of Erebus, personification of\nnight\n\nNuma, second king of Rome\n\nNYMPHS, beautiful maidens, lesser divinities of nature Dryads and\nHamadryads, tree nymphs, Naiads, spring, brook, and river nymphs,\nNereids, sea nymphs Oreads, mountain nymphs or hill nymphs\n\nO\n\nOCEANUS, a Titan, ruling watery elements\n\nOCYROE, a prophetess, daughter of Chiron\n\nODERIC\n\nODIN, chief of the Norse gods\n\nODYAR, famous Biscayan hero\n\nODYSSEUS See ULYSSES\n\nODYSSEY, Homer's poem, relating the wanderings of Odysseus\n(Ulysses) on returning from Trojan War\n\nOEDIPUS, Theban hero, who guessed the riddle of the Sphinx (which\nSee), becoming King of Thebes\n\nOENEUS, King of Calydon\n\nOENONE, nymph, married by Paris in his youth, and abandoned for\nHelen\n\nOENOPION, King of Chios\n\nOETA, Mount, scene of Hercules' death\n\nOGIER, the Dane, one of the paladins of Charlemagne\n\nOLIVER, companion of Orlando\n\nOLWEN, wife of Kilwich\n\nOLYMPIA, a small plain in Elis, where the Olympic games were\ncelebrated\n\nOLYMPIADS, periods between Olympic games (four years)\n\nOLYMPIAN GAMES, See GAMES\n\nOLYMPUS, dwelling place of the dynasty of gods of which Zeus was\nthe head\n\nOMPHALE, queen of Lydia, daughter of Iardanus and wife of Tmolus\n\nOPHION, king of the Titans, who ruled Olympus till dethroned by\nthe gods Saturn and Rhea\n\nOPS See RHEA\n\nORACLES, answers from the gods to questions from seekers for\nknowledge or advice for the future, usually in equivocal form, so\nas to fit any event, also places where such answers were given\nforth usually by a priest or priestess\n\nORC, a sea monster, foiled by Rogero when about to devour Angelica\n\nOREADS, nymphs of mountains and hills\n\nORESTES, son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, because of his crime\nin killing his mother, he was pursued by the Furies until purified\nby Minerva\n\nORION, youthful giant, loved by Diana, Constellation\n\nORITHYIA, a nymph, seized by Boreas\n\nORLANDO, a famous knight and nephew of Charlemagne\n\nORMUZD (Greek, Oromasdes), son of Supreme Being, source of good\nas his brother Ahriman (Arimanes) was of evil, in Persian or\nZoroastrian religion\n\nORPHEUS, musician, son of Apollo and Calliope, See EURYDICE\n\nOSIRIS, the most beneficent of the Egyptian gods\n\nOSSA, mountain of Thessaly\n\nOSSIAN, Celtic poet of the second or third century\n\nOVID, Latin poet (See Metamorphoses)\n\nOWAIN, knight at King Arthur's court\n\nOZANNA, a knight of Arthur\n\nP\n\nPACTOLUS, river whose sands were changed to gold by Midas\n\nPAEON, a name for both Apollo and Aesculapius, gods of medicine,\n\nPAGANS, heathen\n\nPALADINS or peers, knights errant\n\nPALAEMON, son of Athamas and Ino\n\nPALAMEDES, messenger sent to call Ulysses to the Trojan War\n\nPALAMEDES, Saracen prince at Arthur's court\n\nPALATINE, one of Rome's Seven Hills\n\nPALES, goddess presiding over cattle and pastures\n\nPALINURUS, faithful steersman of Aeeas\n\nPALLADIUM, properly any image of Pallas Athene, but specially\napplied to an image at Troy, which was stolen by Ulysses and\nDiomedes\n\nPALLAS, son of Evander\n\nPALLAS A THE'NE (Minerva)\n\nPAMPHA GUS, a dog of Diana\n\nPAN, god of nature and the universe\n\nPANATHENAEA, festival in honor of Pallas Athene (Minerva)\n\nPANDEAN PIPES, musical instrument of reeds, made by Pan in\nmemory of Syrinx\n\nPANDORA (all gifted), first woman, dowered with gifts by every\ngod, yet entrusted with a box she was cautioned not to open, but,\ncurious, she opened it, and out flew all the ills of humanity,\nleaving behind only Hope, which remained\n\nPANDRASUS, a king in Greece, who persecuted Trojan exiles under\nBrutus, great grandson of Aeneas, until they fought, captured him,\nand, with his daughter Imogen as Brutus' wife, emigrated to Albion\n(later called Britain)\n\nPANOPE, plain of\n\nPANTHUS, alleged earlier incarnation of Pythagoras\n\nPAPHLAGNIA, ancient country in Asia Minor, south of Black Sea\n\nPAPHOS, daughter of Pygmalion and Galatea (both of which, See)\n\nPARCAE See FATES\n\nPARIAHS, lowest caste of Hindus\n\nPARIS, son of Priam and Hecuba, who eloped with Helen (which.\nSee)\n\nPARNASSIAN LAUREl, wreath from Parnassus, crown awarded to\nsuccessful poets\n\nPARNASSUS, mountain near Delphi, sacred to Apollo and the Muses\n\nPARSEES, Persian fire worshippers (Zoroastrians), of whom there\nare still thousands in Persia and India\n\nPARTHENON, the temple of Athene Parthenos (\"the Virgin\") on the\nAcropolis of Athens\n\nPASSEBREUL, Tristram's horse\n\nPATROCLUS, friend of Achilles, killed by Hector\n\nPECHEUR, King, uncle of Perceval\n\nPEERS, the\n\nPEG A SUS, winged horse, born from the sea foam and the blood of\nMedusa\n\nPELEUS, king of the Myrmidons, father of Achilles by Thetis\n\nPELIAS, usurping uncle of Jason\n\nPELION, mountain\n\nPELLEAS, knight of Arthur\n\nPENATES, protective household deities of the Romans\n\nPENDRAGON, King of Britain, elder brother of Uther Pendragon,\nwho succeeded him\n\nPENELOPE, wife of Ulysses, who, waiting twenty years for his\nreturn from the Trojan War, put off the suitors for her hand by\npromising to choose one when her weaving was done, but unravelled\nat night what she had woven by day\n\nPENEUS, river god, river\n\nPENTHESILEA, queen of Amazons\n\nPENTHEUS, king of Thebes, having resisted the introduction of\nthe worship of Bacchus into his kingdom, was driven mad by the god\n\nPENUS, Roman house pantry, giving name to the Penates\n\nPEPIN, father of Charlemagne\n\nPEPLUS, sacred robe of Minerva\n\nPERCEVAL, a great knight of Arthur\n\nPERDIX, inventor of saw and compasses\n\nPERIANDER, King of Corinuh, friend of Arion\n\nPERIPHETES, son of Vulcan, killed by Theseus\n\nPERSEPHONE, goddess of vegetation, 8 See Pioserpine\n\nPERSEUS, son of Jupiter and Danae, slayer of the Gorgon Medusa,\ndeliverer of Andromeda from a sea monster, 116 122, 124, 202\n\nPHAEACIANS, people who entertained Ulysses\n\nPHAEDRA, faithless and cruel wife of Theseus\n\nPHAETHUSA, sister of Phaeton, 244\n\nPHAETON, son of Phoebus, who dared attempt to drive his father's\nsun chariot\n\nPHANTASOS, a son of Somnus, bringing strange images to sleeping\nmen\n\nPHAON, beloved by Sappho\n\nPHELOT, knight of Wales\n\nPHEREDIN, friend of Tristram, unhappy lover of Isoude\n\nPHIDIAS, famous Greek sculptor\n\nPHILEMON, husband of Baucis\n\nPHILOCTETES, warrior who lighted the fatal pyre of Hercules\n\nPHILOE, burial place of Osiris\n\nPHINEUS, betrothed to Andromeda\n\nPHLEGETHON, fiery river of Hades\n\nPHOCIS\n\nPHOEBE, one of the sisters of Phaeton\n\nPHOEBUS (Apollo), god of music, prophecy, and archery, the sun\ngod\n\nPHOENIX, a messenger to Achilles, also, a miraculous bird dying\nin fire by its own act and springing up alive from its own ashes\n\nPHORBAS, a companion of Aeneas, whose form was assumed by Neptune\nin luring Palinuras the helmsman from his roost\n\nPHRYXUS, brother of Helle\n\nPINABEL, knight\n\nPILLARS OF HERCULES, two mountains--Calpe, now the Rock of\nGibraltar, southwest corner of Spain in Europe, and Abyla, facing\nit in Africa across the strait\n\nPINDAR, famous Greek poet\n\nPINDUS, Grecian mountain\n\nPIRENE, celebrated fountain at Corinth\n\nPIRITHOUS, king of the Lapithae in Thessaly, and friend of\nTheseus, husband of Hippodamia\n\nPLEASURE, daughter of Cupid and Psyche\n\nPLEIADES, seven of Diana's nymphs, changed into stars, one being\nlost\n\nPLENTY, the Horn of\n\nPLEXIPPUS, brother of Althea\n\nPLINY, Roman naturalist\n\nPLUTO, the same as Hades, Dis, etc. god of the Infernal Regions\n\nPLUTUS, god of wealth\n\nPO, Italian river\n\nPOLE STAR\n\nPOLITES, youngest son of Priam of Troy\n\nPOLLUX, Castor and (Dioscuri, the Twins) (See Castor)\n\nPOLYDECTES, king of Seriphus\n\nPOLYDORE, slain kinsman of Aeneas, whose blood nourished a bush\nthat bled when broken\n\nPOLYHYMNIA, Muse of oratory and sacred song\n\nPOLYIDUS, soothsayer\n\nPOLYNICES, King of Thebes\n\nPOLYPHEMUS, giant son of Neptune\n\nPOLYXENA, daughter of King Priam of Troy\n\nPOMONA, goddess of fruit trees (See VERTUMNUS)\n\nPORREX and FER'REX, sons of Leir, King of Britain\n\nPORTUNUS, Roman name for Palaemon\n\nPOSEIDON (Neptune), ruler of the ocean\n\nPRECIPICE, threshold of Helas hall\n\nPRESTER JOHN, a rumored priest or presbyter, a Christian pontiff\nin Upper Asia, believed in but never found\n\nPRIAM, king of Troy\n\nPRIWEN, Arthur's shield\n\nPROCRIS, beloved but jealous wife of Cephalus\n\nPROCRUSTES, who seized travellers and bound them on his iron bed,\nstretching the short ones and cutting short the tall, thus also\nhimself served by Theseus\n\nPROETUS, jealous of Bellerophon\n\nPROMETHEUS, creator of man, who stole fire from heaven for man's\nuse\n\nPROSERPINE, the same as Persephone, goddess of all growing\nthings, daughter of Ceres, carried off by Pluto\n\nPROTESILAUS, slain by Hector the Trojan, allowed by the gods to\nreturn for three hours' talk with his widow Laodomia\n\nPROTEUS, the old man of the sea\n\nPRUDENCE (Metis), spouse of Jupiter\n\nPRYDERI, son of Pwyll\n\nPSYCHE, a beautiful maiden, personification of the human soul,\nsought by Cupid (Love), to whom she responded, lost him by\ncuriosity to see him (as he came to her only by night), but\nfinally through his prayers was made immortal and restored to him,\na symbol of immortality\n\nPURANAS, Hindu Scriptures\n\nPWYLL, Prince of Dyved\n\nPYGMALION, sculptor in love with a statue he had made, brought to\nlife by Venus, brother of Queen Dido\n\nPYGMIES, nation of dwarfs, at war with the Cranes\n\nPYLADES, son of Straphius, friend of Orestes\n\nPYRAMUS, who loved Thisbe, next door neighbor, and, their parents\nopposing, they talked through cracks in the house wall, agreeing\nto meet in the near by woods, where Pyramus, finding a bloody veil\nand thinking Thisbe slain, killed himself, and she, seeing his\nbody, killed herself (Burlesqued in Shakespeare's \"Midsummer\nNight's Dream\")\n\nPYRRHA, wife of Deucalion\n\nPYRRHUS (Neoptolemus), son of Achilles\n\nPYTHAGORAS, Greek philosopher (540 BC), who thought numbers to be\nthe essence and principle of all things, and taught transmigration\nof souls of the dead into new life as human or animal beings\n\nPYTHIA, priestess of Apollo at Delphi\n\nPYTHIAN GAMES\n\nPYTHIAN ORACLE\n\nPYTHON, serpent springing from Deluge slum, destroyed by Apollo\n\nQ\n\nQUIRINUS (from quiris, a lance or spear), a war god, said to be\nRomulus, founder of Rome\n\nR\n\nRABICAN, noted horse\n\nRAGNAROK, the twilight (or ending) of the gods\n\nRAJPUTS, minor Hindu caste\n\nREGAN, daughter of Leir\n\nREGILLUS, lake in Latium, noted for battle fought near by\nbetween the Romans and the Latins\n\nREGGIO, family from which Rogero sprang\n\nREMUS, brother of Romulus, founder of Rome\n\nRHADAMANTHUS, son of Jupiter and Europa after his death one of\nthe judges in the lower world\n\nRHAPSODIST, professional reciter of poems among the Greeks\n\nRHEA, female Titan, wife of Saturn (Cronos), mother of the chief\ngods, worshipped in Greece and Rome\n\nRHINE, river\n\nRHINE MAIDENS, OR DAUGHTERS, three water nymphs, Flosshilda,\nWoglinda, and Wellgunda, set to guard the Nibelungen Hoard, buried\nin the Rhine\n\nRHODES, one of the seven cities claiming to be Homer's birthplace\n\nRHODOPE, mountain in Thrace\n\nRHONGOMYANT, Arthur's lance\n\nRHOECUS, a youth, beloved by a Dryad, but who brushed away a bee\nsent by her to call him to her, and she punished him with\nblindness\n\nRHIANNON, wife of Pwyll\n\nRINALDO, one of the bravest knights of Charlemagne\n\nRIVER OCEAN, flowing around the earth\n\nROBERT DE BEAUVAIS', Norman poet (1257)\n\nROBIN HOOD, famous outlaw in English legend, about time of Richard\nCoeur de Lion\n\nROCKINGHAM, forest of\n\nRODOMONT, king of Algiers\n\nROGERO, noted Saracen knight\n\nROLAND (Orlando), See Orlando\n\nROMANCES\n\nROMANUS, legendary great grandson of Noah\n\nROME\n\nROMULUS, founder of Rome\n\nRON, Arthur's lance\n\nRONCES VALLES', battle of\n\nROUND TABLE King Arthur's instituted by Merlin the Sage for\nPendragon, Arthur's father, as a knightly order, continued and\nmade famous by Arthur and his knights\n\nRUNIC CHARACTERS, or runes, alphabetic signs used by early\nTeutonic peoples, written or graved on metal or stone\n\nRUTULIANS, an ancient people in Italy, subdued at an early period\nby the Romans\n\nRYENCE, king in Ireland\n\nS\n\nSABRA, maiden for whom Severn River was named, daughter of Locrine\nand Estrildis thrown into river Severn by Locrine's wife,\ntransformed to a river nymph, poetically named Sabrina\n\nSACRIPANT, king of Circassia\n\nSAFFIRE, Sir, knight of Arthur\n\nSAGAS, Norse tales of heroism, composed by the Skalds\n\nSAGRAMOUR, knight of Arthur\n\nSt. MICHAEL'S MOUNT, precipitous pointed rock hill on the coast of\nBrittany, opposite Cornwall\n\nSAKYASINHA, the Lion, epithet applied to Buddha\n\nSALAMANDER, a lizard like animal, fabled to be able to live in\nfire\n\nSALAMIS, Grecian city\n\nSALMONEUS, son of Aeolus and Enarete and brother of Sisyphus\n\nSALOMON, king of Brittany, at Charlemagne's court\n\nSAMHIN, or \"fire of peace,\" a Druidical festival\n\nSAMIAN SAGE (Pythagoras)\n\nSAMOS, island in the Aegean Sea\n\nSAMOTHRACIAN GODS, a group of agricultural divinities, worshipped\nin Samothrace\n\nSAMSON, Hebrew hero, thought by some to be original of Hercules\n\nSAN GREAL (See Graal, the Holy)\n\nSAPPHO, Greek poetess, who leaped into the sea from promontory of\nLeucadia in disappointed love for Phaon\n\nSARACENS, followers of Mahomet\n\nSARPEDON, son of Jupiter and Europa, killed by Patroclus\n\nSATURN (Cronos)\n\nSATURNALIA, a annual festival held by Romans in honor of Saturn\n\nSATURNIA, an ancient name of Italy\n\nSATYRS, male divinities of the forest, half man, half goat\n\nSCALIGER, famous German scholar of 16th century\n\nSCANDINAVIA, mythology of, giving account of Northern gods,\nheroes, etc\n\nSCHERIA, mythical island, abode of the Phaeacians\n\nSCHRIMNIR, the boar, cooked nightly for the heroes of Valhalla\nbecoming whole every morning\n\nSCIO, one of the island cities claiming to be Homer's birthplace\n\nSCOPAS, King of Thessaly\n\nSCORPION, constellation\n\nSCYLLA, sea nymph beloved by Glaucus, but changed by jealous Circe\nto a monster and finally to a dangerous rock on the Sicilian\ncoast, facing the whirlpool Charybdis, many mariners being wrecked\nbetween the two, also, daughter of King Nisus of Megara, who loved\nMinos, besieging her father's city, but he disliked her disloyalty\nand drowned her, also, a fair virgin of Sicily, friend of sea\nnymph Galatea\n\nSCYROS, where Theseus was slain\n\nSCYTHIA, country lying north of Euxine Sea\n\nSEMELE, daughter of Cadmus and, by Jupiter, mother of Bacchus\n\nSEMIRAMIS, with Ninus the mythical founder of the Assyrian empire\nof Nineveh\n\nSENAPUS, King of Abyssinia, who entertained Astolpho\n\nSERAPIS, or Hermes, Egyptian divinity of Tartarus and of\nmedicine\n\nSERFS, slaves of the land\n\nSERIPHUS, island in the Aegean Sea, one of the Cyclades\n\nSERPENT (Northern constellation)\n\nSESTOS, dwelling of Hero (which See also Leander)\n\n\"SEVEN AGAINST THEBES,\" famous Greek expedition\n\nSEVERN RIVER, in England\n\nSEVINUS, Duke of Guienne\n\nSHALOTT, THE LADY OF\n\nSHATRIYA, Hindu warrior caste\n\nSHERASMIN, French chevalier\n\nSIBYL, prophetess of Cumae\n\nSICHAEUS, husband of Dido\n\nSEIGE PERILOUS, the chair of purity at Arthur's Round Table, fatal\nto any but him who was destined to achieve the quest of the\nSangreal (See Galahad)\n\nSIEGFRIED, young King of the Netherlands, husband of Kriemhild,\nshe boasted to Brunhild that Siegfried had aided Gunther to beat\nher in athletic contests, thus winning her as wife, and Brunhild,\nin anger, employed Hagan to murder Siegfried. As hero of Wagner's\n\"Valkyrie,\" he wins the Nibelungen treasure ring, loves and\ndeserts Brunhild, and is slain by Hagan\n\nSIEGLINDA, wife of Hunding, mother of Siegfried by Siegmund\n\nSIEGMUND, father of Siegfried\n\nSIGTRYG, Prince, betrothed of King Alef's daughter, aided by\nHereward\n\nSIGUNA, wife of Loki\n\nSILENUS, a Satyr, school master of Bacchus\n\nSILURES (South Wales)\n\nSILVIA, daughter of Latin shepherd\n\nSILVIUS, grandson of Aeneas, accidentally killed in the chase by\nhis son Brutus\n\nSIMONIDES, an early poet of Greece\n\nSINON, a Greek spy, who persuaded the Trojans to take the Wooden\nHorse into their city\n\nSIRENS, sea nymphs, whose singing charmed mariners to leap into\nthe sea, passing their island, Ulysses stopped the ears of his\nsailors with wax, and had himself bound to the mast so that he\ncould hear but not yield to their music\n\nSIRIUS, the dog of Orion, changed to the Dog star\n\nSISYPHUS, condemned in Tartarus to perpetually roll up hill a big\nrock which, when the top was reached, rolled down again\n\nSIVA, the Destroyer, third person of the Hindu triad of gods\n\nSKALDS, Norse bards and poets\n\nSKIDBLADNIR, Freyr's ship\n\nSKIRNIR, Frey's messenger, who won the god's magic sword by\ngetting him Gerda for his wife\n\nSKRYMIR, a giant, Utgard Loki in disguise, who fooled Thor in\nathletic feats\n\nSKULD, the Norn of the Future\n\nSLEEP, twin brother of Death\n\nSLEIPNIR, Odin's horse\n\nSOBRINO, councillor to Agramant\n\nSOMNUS, child of Nox, twin brother of Mors, god of sleep\n\nSOPHOCLES, Greek tragic dramatist\n\nSOUTH WIND See Notus\n\nSPAR'TA, capital of Lacedaemon\n\nSPHINX, a monster, waylaying the road to Thebes and propounding\nriddles to all passers, on pain of death, for wrong guessing, who\nkilled herself in rage when Aedipus guessed aright\n\nSPRING\n\nSTONEHENGE, circle of huge upright stones, fabled to be sepulchre\nof Pendragon\n\nSTROPHIUS, father of Pylades\n\nSTYGIAN REALM, Hades\n\nSTYGIAN SLEEP, escaped from the beauty box sent from Hades to\nVenus by hand of Psyche, who curiously opened the box and was\nplunged into unconsciousness\n\nSTYX, river, bordering Hades, to be crossed by all the dead\n\nSUDRAS, Hindu laboring caste\n\nSURTUR, leader of giants against the gods in the day of their\ndestruction (Norse mythology)\n\nSURYA, Hindu god of the sun, corresponding to the Greek Helios\n\nSUTRI, Orlando's birthplace\n\nSVADILFARI, giant's horse\n\nSWAN, LEDA AND\n\nSYBARIS, Greek city in Southern Italy, famed for luxury\n\nSYLVANUS, Latin divinity identified with Pan\n\nSYMPLEGADES, floating rocks passed by the Argonauts\n\nSYRINX, nymph, pursued by Pan, but escaping by being changed to a\nbunch of reeds (See Pandean pipes)\n\nT\n\nTACITUS, Roman historian\n\nTAENARUS, Greek entrance to lower regions\n\nTAGUS, river in Spain and Portugal\n\nTALIESIN, Welsh bard\n\nTANAIS, ancient name of river Don\n\nTANTALUS, wicked king, punished in Hades by standing in water\nthat retired when he would drink, under fruit trees that withdrew\nwhen he would eat\n\nTARCHON, Etruscan chief\n\nTARENTUM, Italian city\n\nTARPEIAN ROCK, in Rome, from which condemned criminals were\nhurled\n\nTARQUINS, a ruling family in early Roman legend\n\nTAURIS, Grecian city, site of temple of Diana (See Iphigenia)\n\nTAURUS, a mountain\n\nTARTARUS, place of confinement of Titans, etc, originally a black\nabyss below Hades later, represented as place where the wicked\nwere punished, and sometimes the name used as synonymous with\nHades\n\nTEIRTU, the harp of\n\nTELAMON, Greek hero and adventurer, father of Ajax\n\nTELEMACHUS, son of Ulysses and Penelope\n\nTELLUS, another name for Rhea\n\nTENEDOS, an island in Aegean Sea\n\nTERMINUS, Roman divinity presiding over boundaries and frontiers\n\nTERPSICHORE, Muse of dancing\n\nTERRA, goddess of the earth\n\nTETHYS, goddess of the sea\n\nTEUCER, ancient king of the Trojans\n\nTHALIA, one of the three Graces\n\nTHAMYRIS, Thracian bard, who challenged the Muses to competition\nin singing, and, defeated, was blinded\n\nTHAUKT, Loki disguised as a hag\n\nTHEBES, city founded by Cadmus and capital of Boeotia\n\nTHEMIS, female Titan, law counsellor of Jove\n\nTHEODORA, sister of Prince Leo\n\nTHERON, one of Diana's dogs\n\nTHERSITES, a brawler, killed by Achilles\n\nTHESCELUS, foe of Perseus, turned to stone by sight of Gorgon's\nhead\n\nTHESEUM, Athenian temple in honor of Theseus\n\nTHESEUS, son of Aegeus and Aethra, King of Athens, a great hero of\nmany adventures\n\nTHESSALY\n\nTHESTIUS, father of Althea\n\nTHETIS, mother of Achilles\n\nTHIALFI, Thor's servant\n\nTHIS'BE, Babylonian maiden beloved by Pyramus\n\nTHOR, the thunderer, of Norse mythology, most popular of the gods\n\nTHRACE\n\nTHRINA'KIA, island pasturing Hyperion's cattle, where Ulysses\nlanded, but, his men killing some cattle for food, their ship was\nwrecked by lightning\n\nTHRYM, giant, who buried Thor's hammer\n\nTHUCYDIDES, Greek historian\n\nTIBER, river flowing through Rome\n\nTIBER, FATHER, god of the river\n\nTIGRIS, river\n\nTINTADEL, castle of, residence of King Mark of Cornwall\n\nTIRESIAS, a Greek soothsayer\n\nTISIPHONE, one of the Furies\n\nTITANS, the sons and daughters of Uranus (Heaven) and Gaea\n(Earth), enemies of the gods and overcome by them\n\nTITHONUS, Trojan prince\n\nTITYUS, giant in Tartarus\n\nTMOLUS, a mountain god\n\nTORTOISE, second avatar of Vishnu\n\nTOURS, battle of (See Abdalrahman and Charles Martel)\n\nTOXEUS, brother of Melauger's mother, who snatched from Atalanta\nher hunting trophy, and was slain by Melauger, who had awarded it\nto her\n\nTRIAD, the Hindu\n\nTRIADS, Welsh poems\n\nTRIMURTI, Hindu Triad\n\nTRIPTOL'EMUS, son of Celeus , and who, made great by\nCeres, founded her worship in Eleusis\n\nTRISTRAM, one of Arthur's knights, husband of Isoude of the White\nHands, lover of Isoude the Fair,\n\nTRITON, a demi god of the sea, son of Poseidon (Neptune) and\nAmphitrite\n\nTROEZEN, Greek city of Argolis\n\nTROJAN WAR\n\nTROJANOVA, New Troy, City founded in Britain (See Brutus, and\nLud)\n\nTROPHONIUS, oracle of, in Boeotia\n\nTROUBADOURS, poets and minstrels of Provence, in Southern France\n\nTROUVERS', poets and minstrels of Northern France\n\nTROY, city in Asia Minor, ruled by King Priam, whose son, Paris,\nstole away Helen, wife of Menelaus the Greek, resulting in the\nTrojan War and the destruction of Troy\n\nTROY, fall of\n\nTURNUS, chief of the Rutulianes in Italy, unsuccessful rival of\nAeneas for Lavinia\n\nTURPIN, Archbishop of Rheims\n\nTURQUINE, Sir, a great knight, foe of Arthur, slain by Sir\nLauncelot\n\nTYPHON, one of the giants who attacked the gods, were defeated,\nand imprisoned under Mt. Aetna\n\nTYR, Norse god of battles\n\nTYRE, Phoenician city governed by Dido\n\nTYRIANS\n\nTYRRHEUS, herdsman of King Turnus in Italy, the slaying of whose\ndaughter's stag aroused war upon Aeneas and his companions\n\nU\n\nUBERTO, son of Galafron\n\nULYSSES (Greek, Odysseus), hero of the Odyssey\n\nUNICORN, fabled animal with a single horn\n\nURANIA, one of the Muses, a daughter of Zeus by Mnemosyne\n\nURDUR, one of the Norns or Fates of Scandinavia, representing the\nPast\n\nUSK, British river\n\nUTGARD, abode of the giant Utgard Loki\n\nUTGARD LO'KI, King of the Giants (See Skrymir)\n\nUTHER (Uther Pendragon), king of Britain and father of Arthur,\n\nUWAINE, knight of Arthur's court\n\nV\n\nVAISSYAS, Hindu caste of agriculturists and traders\n\nVALHALLA, hall of Odin, heavenly residence of slain heroes\n\nVALKYRIE, armed and mounted warlike virgins, daughters of the gods\n(Norse), Odin's messengers, who select slain heroes for Valhalla\nand serve them at their feasts\n\nVE, brother of Odin\n\nVEDAS, Hindu sacred Scriptures\n\nVENEDOTIA, ancient name for North Wales\n\nVENUS (Aphrodite), goddess of beauty\n\nVENUS DE MEDICI, famous antique statue in Uffizi Gallery,\nFlorence, Italy\n\nVERDANDI, the Present, one of the Norns\n\nVERTUMNUS, god of the changing seasons, whose varied appearances\nwon the love of Pomona\n\nVESTA, daughter of Cronos and Rhea, goddess of the homefire, or\nhearth\n\nVESTALS, virgin priestesses in temple of Vesta\n\nVESUVIUS, Mount, volcano near Naples\n\nVILLAINS, peasants in the feudal scheme\n\nVIGRID, final battle-field, with destruction of the gods ind\ntheir enemies, the sun, the earth, and time itself\n\nVILI, brother of Odin and Ve\n\nVIRGIL, celebrated Latin poet (See Aeneid)\n\nVIRGO, constellation of the Virgin, representing Astraea, goddess\nof innocence and purity\n\nVISHNU, the Preserver, second of the three chief Hindu gods\n\nVIVIANE, lady of magical powers, who allured the sage Merlin and\nimprisoned him in an enchanted wood\n\nVOLSCENS, Rutulian troop leader who killed Nisus and Euryalus\n\nVOLSUNG, A SAGA, an Icelandic poem, giving about the same legends\nas the Nibelungen Lied\n\nVORTIGERN, usurping King of Britain, defeated by Pendragon 390,\n397\n\nVULCAN (Greek, Haephestus), god of fire and metal working, with\nforges under Aetna, husband of Venus\n\nVYA'SA, Hindu sage\n\nW\n\nWAIN, the, constellation\n\nWELLGUNDA, one of the Rhine-daughters\n\nWELSH LANGUAGE\n\nWESTERN OCEAN\n\nWINDS, THE\n\nWINTER\n\nWODEN, chief god in the Norse mythology, Anglo Saxon for Odin\n\nWOGLINDA, one of the Rhine-daughters\n\nWOMAN, creation of\n\nWOODEN HORSE, the, filled with armed men, but left outside of Troy\nas a pretended offering to Minerva when the Greeks feigned to sail\naway, accepted by the Trojans (See Sinon, and Laocoon), brought\ninto the city, and at night emptied of the hidden Greek soldiers,\nwho destroyed the town\n\nWOOD NYMPHS\n\nWOTAN, Old High German form of Odin\n\nX\n\nXANTHUS, river of Asia Minor\n\nY\n\nYAMA, Hindu god of the Infernal Regions\n\nYEAR, THE\n\nYGDRASIL, great ash-tree, supposed by Norse mythology to support\nthe universe\n\nYMIR, giant, slain by Odin\n\nYNYWL, Earl, host of Geraint, father of Enid\n\nYORK, Britain\n\nYSERONE, niece of Arthur, mother of Caradoc\n\nYSPA DA DEN PEN'KAWR, father of Olwen\n\nZ\n\nZENDAVESTA, Persian sacred Scriptures\n\nZEPHYRUS, god of the South wind,\n\nZERBINO, a knight, son of the king of Scotland\n\nZETES, winged warrior, companion of Theseus\n\nZETHUS, son of Jupiter and Antiope, brother of Amphion. See Dirce\n\nZEUS, See JUPITER\n\nZOROASTER, founder of the Persian religion, which was dominant in\nWestern Asia from about 550 BC to about 650 AD, and is still held\nby many thousands in Persia and in India","title":"The Age of Chivalry","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":118300}