"So Roswal and Lilian sheen,Lived many years in good liking.I pray to Jesu, heaven's king,To grant us heaven to our ending.Of them I have no more to say:God send them rest until doom's day!"ELIDUC AND GUILLIADUN.(From one of Marie's Lays.)EELIDUCwas a knight of Brittany who, through the cabals of enemies, fell under the displeasure of the king and was banished from his dominions. Sir Eliduc did not wish to forsake his country, still less did he wish to part with the fair Lady Guildeluec, to whom he was solemnly betrothed. But the king's order was law; and, taking a fond leave of his promised wife, while vowing ever to be faithful, Sir Eliduc called to him ten of the bravest of his followers, and set sail for the English coast. They had a short voyage with fair winds, landing at Totness, in Devonshire,and proceeded at once to Exeter. The King of Exeter was at that time plunged into a most distressful war with a neighboring province, to whose prince he had refused to marry his only daughter and heiress. Sir Eliduc offered his services to the king, which were gladly accepted. After a few days a battle was fought, in which Eliduc's knowledge of the art of war and his bravery, as well as that of his ten followers, helped to decide the fortunes of the King of Exeter, who had the satisfaction of seeing the foe put to flight. As a reward for his aid, the king made Eliduc the supreme commander of all his armies. Eliduc was the idol of the people, and soon the fair Princess Guilliadun fell in love with him, confiding to the king, her father, that she would have no other husband than this valiant stranger. The king thought he could do no better than secure such a noble successor to his throne, and sent his chamberlain to inform Eliduc of the honor in store for him. Eliduc was now in a sad plight. He thought of his absent Guildeluec, who was no doubt, even then, waiting and weeping for his return, and his heart grew heavy within him. On the other hand, the Princess Guilliadun was by far the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and her lovefor him was strong. To refuse her offered hand would bring down on him the fierce wrath of a great king, to whom no man said nay.While Sir Eliduc was in this dilemma, a message came to him from his former master, the Breton king, ordering his immediate return to protect their country from invasion. All Sir Eliduc's love for his own land stirred within him. To defend her borders he was ready to sacrifice his present rank and wealth, and be a simple knight again. The image of his promised wife arose clear and bright before him, and he forgot the lovely Guilliadun, who, for a time, had so dazzled his imagination with her charms.Laying down his sword before the sovereign, he resigned command of the Exeter troops, and, in spite of the king's rich offers and temptations, hurried to take ship for France. Among his attendants was a youth muffled in a long mantle, who, when they were fairly out at sea, revealed to the knight's astonished gaze the face and form of the wilful Guilliadun.She had thus disguised herself to follow him, and now vowed that unless he took her to be his wife, she would die by her own fair hand. There was no time for discussion, for, at that moment, arose a mightytempest which threatened to engulf the ship. In vain were the efforts of the sailors to manage the vessel, and all prepared for immediate death, as wind and waves beat furiously upon them. Suddenly, one of the sailors spoke up for the rest, and, in the hearing of Guilliadun, warned Sir Eliduc that Heaven was angry with him for carrying off the princess in disguise, when he was already promised in marriage to another woman. Guilliadun hearing these words, fell lifeless to the deck. She appeared so like a dead person that the crew offered to throw her overboard, but Eliduc, seizing an oar, struck down the sailor who had spoken, and, himself grasping the helm, drove the ship through foam and boiling waves safely to port. In a few hours he might hope to reach the court of his king; but what, meantime, should he do with the body of the unfortunate princess? In this emergency, he remembered that in a forest near by had once lived an aged hermit, in whose cell he might possibly leave the corpse of the princess, until he should be able to dispose of it in a style suited to her rank. He mounted his palfrey, took the body in his arms, rode to the hermit's retreat, and, gaining entrance to a little chapel, laid on a slab in the centre of it the unhappy Guilliadun.She was beautiful as ever, and looked like a waxen image. The knight, kneeling beside her, shed many bitter tears, and then, springing to his saddle, galloped off to place himself at the service of his king.He found the affairs of his country in a bad way, but the mere mention of his name sufficed to inspire the Breton soldiers with new courage. Marching at the head of the king's troops, he led them to battle, and in a short time had put the foe to confusion and rout. Covered with glory, Eliduc rode back to receive the king's congratulations and thanks. There, among the ladies attending the queen, was his faithful Guildeluec; but when she came forward with open arms to greet him, a thought of the Lady Guilliadun, who had died for love of him, shot into his heart like an arrow. Guildeluec quickly saw that something was amiss; but, hiding the anguish she felt, she resolved to keep close watch upon her lover, and, if possible, discover the cause of his coldness.For some days the court was given up to gaiety and festivals of all kinds. Guildeluec noticed that every day her knight would steal away to the forest and remain there for some hours, returning to the palace more melancholy than before. She set a little page tofollow Eliduc, and the boy traced his master to a retreat all overgrown with trees, where the knight entered and was lost to sight.Dismissing the boy with a piece of gold, the lady resolved herself to unravel the mystery. Wrapped in a long veil, she stole along the green alleys of the wood, and soon reached the little hermitage. Lifting up a curtain of closely woven vines which drooped before it, she entered the chapel door. There, on a bier richly hung with velvet, lay a young and lovely maiden, apparently dead, save that her cheeks bloomed like a new-blown rose. Guildeluec gazed for a while upon this sad sight, when a noise of approaching footsteps startled her, and she hid behind a tomb. The new-comer was none other than the brave knight Eliduc, who, casting himself on the ground beside the bier, gave way to bitter grief, calling the saints above to witness that he had been true to his pledge to Guildeluec, even to hastening to an untimely end the fair maiden before him. Guildeluec heard all, and understood what had taken his love from her. Just then a weasel, running from behind the altar, passed near the bier, which angered the knight, who, at one blow, struck the little animal dead upon the ground. WhenEliduc had gone, the watching lady saw another weasel run up to his slaughtered companion, attempt to play with her, and on finding her without life, go away with every appearance of grief. Directly the weasel came back again, carrying a beautiful red flower from the wood, which was carefully inserted in the mouth of his companion. The effect was magical. Instantly, the dead weasel sprang up, dropped the flower, and scampered off with her happy little comrade.Guildeluec stooped to pick up the fallen blossom. For a moment she hesitated, for her love for the knight was very great. Then she bent forward, and laid the stem of the flower between the rosy lips of the entranced Guilliadun. Immediately there were signs of life. The girl stirred, a blush came into her cheeks, and her lips parted. When her eyes opened, Guildeluec sighed and said, "Truly, never was there seen so fair a creature."Guildeluec soon explained to the awakened princess where she was, and received her fervent thanks for delivery from so strange a spell. With many tears, Guilliadun confessed to her unknown friend her love for the knight Eliduc, and the way she had followed him from her father's court. Guildeluec heard hertale in silence, and when it was at an end, led her away from the hermitage to the palace, where the queen took the princess under her charge, and in the evening presented her with much pomp to the members of her court. When Eliduc saw Guilliadun alive and well, richly clad and lovelier than before, his heart rejoiced, but he turned away from her. Then came forward Guildeluec, who, with the queen's permission, released him from his pledge to her, and gave him back his ring, saying she had determined to retire to a convent and devote her days to holy works.Guildeluec Reviving Guilliadun.Guildeluec Reviving Guilliadun.The queen then placed Guilliadun's hand in that of Eliduc. They were married with great rejoicings; but when the blessing was said over them by the priest, the knight fancied he heard a sigh breathed close in his ear. He looked around; there was no one in sight, save the group of nuns behind a grating, whose voices rose pure and clear in the strains of the bridal hymn.THE FALCON-KING.(From one of Marie's Lays.)TTHERElived once, in Britain, an old knight who was lord of Caerwent, a city situated on the River Douglas. He was wealthy and avaricious, and the sole heir to his possessions, a lovely daughter, he kept locked up in a high tower, under the care of a cross governess. His one fear was that this daughter would marry, and thus give some one the right to lay claim to the gold that was dearer to him than life itself. To prevent her from getting a husband, the old knight used every method he could think of to keep off visitors; and any stray caller at the castle was set upon by fierce dogs, who would tear one to pieces as soon as gnaw a beef-bone!Day after day the father rode off to the hunt, the governess told her beads, and the damsel moped within the tower. One morning she was at her wheel, singing a mournful ditty, and sighing from time to time, as she glanced over the tree-tops at the roofs and spires of the distant city, when suddenly the sky above her window was darkened, and she heard a whirring noise, as of mighty wings astir. A falcon of huge size and noble mien flew in at the casement, and lit submissively at her feet. The maiden stroked his proud head, and at once the bird changed to a beautiful young man, who, in a gentle voice, begged her to have no fear of him, as he was not only a devoted lover but the humblest of her slaves."Bid me go if you will," said the prince, "and deeply as I should regret your command, you will see how quickly I shall obey it. Long have I watched you from afar, and dearly I love you. For your sake, I have acquired the art of magic, enabling me to assume this shape in order to reach your prison.""Oh! but Idon'twant you to go!" cried the poor little mewed-up damsel, who was tired to death of having nobody to talk to.As she had never seen a man younger than herfather, it was a great astonishment to her to find that the prince's hair was dark and his cheek unwrinkled and rosy as a ripe peach.What he meant by being a lover, she did not in the least understand. Only, it was pleasant to hear him talk in his kind, low voice; and praises were so rare to her, that they sounded sweet as honey dropping from his lips.As a matter of course, the afternoon passed quickly; but at last, startled by the noise of a key grating in the lock of the door, the prince quickly assumed his bird-shape, and promising to come again upon the morrow, flew out of the window. The governess could not imagine what had put her prisoner in such a silly state of cheerfulness, as she thought it; and, boxing the poor girl's ears for smiling, gave her a long piece of poetry to learn by heart, and allowed her nothing but bread and water for her tea.Next day the falcon came again, and for many days he continued his visits, until the girl grew to love him as he loved her, and promised to be his wife. Once a month the chaplain was accustomed to come to see her, and to make her say a catechism the longest ever heard of. When next the day came around for hisvisit, what was her surprise, instead of the stern chaplain, to find a gentle and kind old priest, who, when left alone with her, avowed himself to be a friend of the falcon-prince."As your father is a wicked and unworthy son of the church, and the prince a noble and devoted one, I cannot but approve of the marriage between you and your beloved," the old man said. "The ceremony will now be performed, and may heaven's blessing rest upon you both."The falcon-prince arrived at the same moment, bearing in his beak a wedding-ring of large bright diamonds. The couple were married, and the prince told his wife that, very soon, he would be able to furnish her also with wings to leave the tower.One day the governess, coming in unexpectedly, found the girl toying with a beautiful ring, which she hurriedly concealed in her mattress. Spite of all the governess' efforts, she could not find the jewel; nor could she succeed in drawing from her captive any explanation of how she had come by it. The governess told the father, who redoubled his precautions and set spies to watch upon the outside of the tower. In a few days, the spies reported to him that they had seena bird of the largest size fly in at the maiden's window, remain there for some hours, and then fly out again."I'll be a match for this carrier-pigeon of hers!" said the old knight with malicious glee. That night a trap was set upon the outside of the window, surrounded by sharp knives, so that anything passing through it would inevitably be caught or wounded grievously. The young wife awaited her husband anxiously, for it was the day fixed for her escape. Soon he arrived; but as he touched the window the trap fell, and although he managed to pass in, a long trail of blood was left behind him."Lose no time, my beloved!" he said, in a voice altered by pain. "Our enemies are upon us. Put this bracelet on your arm, and spring into the air after me, without fear."She obeyed, and found herself upborne by magic wings, which carried her more swiftly than the wind over forest tops, shining river, and city spires and domes. Glorious as was her airy flight, she could see that her companion grew weaker. They arrived in a country adjoining the one in which she had lived, and stopped immediately above a splendid palace—alighting in the marble balcony of a chamber furnishedwith the utmost magnificence. Here the falcon regained his man's shape, and, with despair, his wife saw that he was deathly pale, while the blood poured from a wound beneath his heart."I am dying," he exclaimed. "Help me to my bed yonder, and may heaven grant me strength to tell my people that you are their lawful queen."The poor wife aided her husband to lie down, but when he would have spoken to her again, his voice was gone—a moment more, and he was dead.And now in what a mournful plight the pretty new queen found herself! Soon the attendants would, no doubt, come flocking into the room, to discover their sovereign murdered in his bed, and a stranger cowering by his side. Terror lent speed to her feet, and hastening back to the balcony, she ran down a long flight of stairs communicating with the outer court and garden of the palace. Thence she escaped to wander into the forest, and until day broke again she never ceased to walk. For some days she remained concealed in the forest, living upon fruit and berries, until at last hunger drove her to the cottage of a poor laborer. The wife of this man was very ill, and the queen offered to stay and nurse her, whichwas gratefully accepted. So faithful and devoted an attendant she proved that, when the woman of the house got well, both husband and wife insisted their stranger guest should make her home with them. In this secluded retreat, where only a stray huntsman now and then passed by, the queen remained until a beautiful son was born to her. And now, she felt a burning desire to have her boy educated in a manner worthy of his father's rank; and poverty, that had seemed so light a burden to herself, grew heavy when it weighed on him. When the baby was three years old, a gay hunting-party passed that way, among them a rich and childless lady, who, charmed with the beauty of the boy, offered to adopt him on the spot.The poor queen wept so bitterly at thought of parting with her treasure, that the lady, who was a kind-hearted person, proposed she should accompany them and serve in the capacity of the boy's governess.To this plan the queen made no objection; and, bidding an affectionate farewell to her humble friends, she took her place with the boy in a travelling carriage sent to fetch them.Years rolled on, and the child born in the forest hadreached the age of twenty-one. He was a handsome, manly youth, and skilled in all athletic exercises. About this time, the family of his adopted mother was invited to be present at a great religious ceremony in an abbey upon the borders of a neighboring kingdom. Among the many attendants of the nobles summoned for the occasion, was the real mother, who came dressed in deep mourning and wearing a veil over her face; and one of the guests was the wicked old knight, her father. The abbot of the monastery threw open the doors of the chapel, that had long been sealed, and all flocked into it. There, in the centre, stood a bier covered with cloth of gold and surrounded by blazing wax-lights, while about it knelt an hundred priests, at prayer. After a mass had been sung, the abbot announced that in yonder bier lay the remains of the late king, their master, who, as all his faithful subjects knew, was foully murdered twenty-one years before; and that, by the terms of the king's will, found some time after his death, the throne rightfully belonged to a lady who had been married in secret by their sovereign, and was by him commended to their truest love and honor. "For many long years," added the good abbot, "we have sought vainly for the widow of ourlamented ruler; not the faintest trace of her has ever been found, and we have resolved to meet here and choose to-day a successor to our king.""Here is a worthy successor to your king!" cried a voice from the throng; and the unfortunate queen, throwing back her veil, pointed to her astonished son. "Behold the rightful heir! Who dares to say that he is not the image of his father?Iam the queen you have so long sought, and this youth is, unknown to himself, my son. In proof of it, here is the marriage ring given me by the king.""And in proof of it," exclaimed a venerable priest, coming forward, "I attest thatIperformed the marriage ceremony between our king and this poor lady. Her appearance and her claim remove the seal from my promise of secresy, and I unhesitatingly declare this youth to be our lawful sovereign."All eyes turned upon the young man, and all tongues proclaimed his marvellous resemblance to the king. The abbot knelt at the young man's feet and offered him a golden crown carried on a velvet cushion. Loud cries of joy and cheers filled the air, when suddenly the unfortunate queen was seen to totter toward the bier of her husband."I am glad to die on this spot," she said, snatching up the sword that lay upon the tomb and placing it in her son's hand; then, bidding him avenge the sad fate of his parents, she immediately expired. At the same moment, a white-haired knight tried to steal away from the church; but when the ancient priest perceived him, the fugitive was denounced as the murderer of their king. Seized by the populace, the wretched old miser was hurried to instant death; his grandson was carried in triumph to the palace, and there installed as king.The new monarch reigned long and wisely—an example for all future sovereigns.EGLAMOUR AND CRYSTABELL.(From Ellis' Abstract of Copy in Garrick Collection.)CCOUNTPrinsamour, an independent sovereign of Artois, was famed for his skill in training young men in the courtesy and accomplishments of chivalry. His court was the resort of all youths who wished to excel in those important arts. His daughter Crystabell, the heiress of Count Prinsamour's dominions, was very beautiful and accomplished, and her father designed to marry her to some powerful monarch. The tournaments instituted at his court were in her honor, and for her sake all the hotheaded young knights in training broke their lances.Crystabell herself had no desire to leave her own country to become the wife of a foreign monarch. She loved the free and stirring air around her father'scastle, and had, unknown to the count, fallen in love with a young knight, Sir Eglamour, who was ever victorious in the numerous tournaments ridden in her name.Eglamour, on his side, looked up to the young countess as to a star. He never dreamed of winning her love, because he was only a knight, without wealth or lands, depending upon his sword alone to make his way through life. At last, one day, something that Crystabell said made him think that she cared for him more than for the rest of her followers. Sorely troubled, and yet strangely happy, the young man wandered off to think it over. He finally resolved to ask advice of the chamberlain, who had always stood his friend. That personage counselled him to give up all thoughts of the countess, who, he said, was destined by her father to be the bride of a rich and great king. Eglamour sighed, and admitted that his friend was right. But that night, in the solitude of his chamber, he addressed a prayer to God:"Lord," he said, "grant me a boon,As thou on rood me bought!The erle's daughter, fair and free,That she may my wife be!For she is most in my thought:That I may wed her to my wife,And in joy to lead our life!From care then were I brought."In those days a true knight thought it no shame to his manhood to take the burden of his every-day cares and lay it in all simplicity at the feet of his Maker. When his devotions were at an end, Sir Eglamour slept soundly, and awoke in better heart.After a while, Sir Eglamour fell ill, and the count desired his daughter, who was skilled in medicine, as were all great ladies of the time, to attend upon the invalid. Crystabell, followed by her damsels, went at once into the sick-room. She found Sir Eglamour feverish and unhappy, and on bending down to minister to him, his pulse throbbed so violently at her touch, that the tears of sympathy came into her eyes. "I have betrayed my love," thought Sir Eglamour; but what was his happiness when the lady bent down to kiss his lips, confessing that the chamberlain had told her what was the real cause of his malady; and, to comfort Eglamour, she bid him live for her sake.Eglamour & Crystabell.Eglamour & Crystabell.After this, Eglamour got well rapidly; but he felt it right and honorable to inform the count, at once, howmatters stood between the two young people. The count, who, although a brave knight, was largely governed by selfish ambition, refused Sir Eglamour with scorn. Then, after thinking a while, he told the youth that he would only bestow his daughter upon the champion who might accomplish three perilous feats of arms, each one of which would expose the candidate to the most imminent danger; and that the victor should not only receive the hand of Crystabell, but in time inherit the whole territory of Artois.Overjoyed, Sir Eglamour accepted the conditions without delay. He declared he was ready to set off that day or the next upon the enterprise. He did not suspect the count's real purpose in setting him this task, which was to destroy the rash knight who presumed to love his daughter."At a little distance to the westward," said the count, "there is a forest of noble trees belonging to a most terrible giant, named Maroke. In a part of the forest shut off for the giant's own hunting ground, are three deer, famed for their size and speed. To hunt one of these celebrated animals is, of course, to challenge an encounter with their owner. Consider whether you have courage enough for such an enterprise."Sir Eglamour smiled, promised to kill the giant, and hurried off to tell his lady-love. Crystabell trembled and wept, but bid her lover God-speed. She told him that no man ever set forth upon a more arduous journey in a Christian country, but that she gloried in his brave spirit. She gave him a good greyhound, from whom no deer that ever ran had yet escaped—also a sword, once found in the sea, the only one of the kind in the world, and which could carve in two any helmet of steel or iron. Eglamour kissed her farewell, as he received these gifts, and set out with a light heart.Reaching the giant's park, he followed the wall to a massive gate, burst it open, and entered the wood. This forest was of huge cypress trees, and Eglamour had the luck soon to come upon the three deer grazing quietly. They were the most immense creatures he had ever seen; and singling out the largest, he attacked it. With the help of the dun greyhound, he brought the stag to earth, and set to work to carve his spoil. Laden with venison, he then approached the giant's castle, blowing his horn at intervals; and, when arrived there, he sounded a wild and merry blast, which roused Maroke from sleep and brought him in fury to the gate.Sir Eglamour politely asked the monster to give him leave to pass through the grounds with his prey.The giant, gnashing his teeth in rage, answered by aiming a blow with his club at the saucy young knight's head. Sir Eglamour, at the same moment, drew Crystabell's sword, which shone so brightly as to dazzle the eyes of Maroke, striking him stone-blind where he stood. Then followed a mighty combat. Blind as the giant was, he foughtwell and skilfully for three entire days. At the end of the third day, Sir Eglamour rallied all his strength and drove his sword into the giant's heart, a thrust which sent Maroke crashing like a forest tree to earth.Sir Eglamour, having cut off his enemy's head, carried it, together with the slaughtered stag, back to the court of his sovereign. The count received him ruefully; but fair Crystabell laughed and rejoiced, while the courtiers covered their champion with praises. After Eglamour was rested and refreshed, the count hurried him off again. This time he was to journey to the distant land of Satyn, where his task was to fetch away the head of a prodigious boar, the terror of that ill-fated country, half of whose inhabitants the creature had already eaten up.To reach the land of Satyn, Sir Eglamour had to travel a fortnight by sea, a fortnight by land. Arriving there at nightfall, he thought it prudent to spend the night in resting on the borders of the forest. At sunrise next day he approached the den of the horrible boar, who had just come back from taking his morning drink in the sea. The animal was a terror to look upon, having flaming eyes and tusks a yard long. He lay gnawing some human bones and growling frightfully,surrounded by dead bodies, many of which were clad in knightly armor. At once Sir Eglamour dashed at him with a shout—"For God and Crystabell!" The boar whetted his long tusks and set upon his adversary, killing at the first blow Sir Eglamour's noble horse, his own tough hide remaining unhurt by the spear. Sir Eglamour now had recourse to his magic sword, and found to his joy that, wherever he struck, the boar's hide was cut; although the length of the animal's tusks made it difficult to close with him. This combat, like that with the giant, lasted three days, and at the end Sir Eglamour, by a sudden swift movement, made a terrible blow at the creature's neck, severing the head from his body.Long before the close of this memorable fight, the boar's snorts of rage and defiance had attracted to the spot the King of Satyn and fifteen of his knights, who happened to be hunting in the forest. When the boar dropped dead, Sir Eglamour fell over him, and lay there completely exhausted. The king and his men drew near, showered compliments on the strange knight's bravery, and told him that the wicked beast of whom he had rid them had sometimes destroyed as many as forty men in one day.The king ordered a cloth to be laid upon the grass, and Sir Eglamour was regaled with venison and rich wine, which brought strength back to his arm and hope to his heart. The king's men then attempted to cut up the boar, but failed, owing to the toughness of his hide. The sword of Sir Eglamour was put into requisition, and in a moment the beast was cleft asunder along the back bone. The meat was distributed among the knights and men-at-arms, Sir Eglamour claiming the head alone. The King of Satyn afterward ordered for the champion a warm bath of certain sweet-scented herbs that healed his wounds and in which he rested pleasantly till break of day. Then the party went on to the king's palace, where Sir Eglamour was asked to stay and recover from his fatigue.Now it happened that the boar just slain was an intimate friend of Manas, a huge and frightful giant, own brother to Maroke. Manas had fallen in love with the King of Satyn's daughter, and had vowed to carry her off. When Manas came prowling around the castle that evening, and beheld on the point of a spear over the gateway the head of his friend the boar, he flew into an awful passion, foaming at the mouth; and as he looked on that head—"Alas!" he cried, "art thou dead?My trust was all in thee!Now, by the law that I live in,My little speckled hoglin,Dear bought shall thy death be!"Manas beat upon the door and walls of the castle in a fury, demanding the surrender of the murderer of his dear little speckled hoglin. Presently, Sir Eglamour,fully armed and equipped, mounted on a fiery courser, and with lance in rest, attacked the giant at full speed.Manas resisted vigorously, and in an instant overthrew man and horse. The king, the princess, and the court, who had assembled on the walls of the castle, began to tremble for the safety of their champion. But Sir Eglamour, lightly springing to his feet, drew his invincible sword, and closing with the giant, cut off his right arm. The monster roared with pain, but continued to fight, though yelling at intervals as loudly as ever, till near sunset, when the patient knight, who had hitherto suffered him to exhaust himself by his own efforts, suddenly rushed forward and completed the victory! The boar and Manas being dead, Eglamour now took his leave of the grateful King of Satyn and his court, who rejoiced greatly over the death of their two adversaries. The heads of the boar and the giant Manas were carefully packed up, and in due time Eglamour laid them at the feet of his faithful Crystabell.Count Prinsamour, secretly disgusted at his knight's success, at once sent him off on another enterprise, more dangerous than the two preceding ones. Eglamour and Crystabell, now seeing that the false countwas determined to prevent their marriage, parted from each other with many tears. But Crystabell vowed to marry him, with or without her father's leave, so soon as he should return, if ever he did, from the present journey.The third mission was to kill a tremendous dragon, at that time desolating the country around the gates of Rome. After sundry adventures by the way, Eglamour encountered the beast, and fought it long and valiantly. He succeeded in cutting off its wings, tail, and head; but at last he fell himself, exhausted by his wounds and poisoned by the dragon's sting, and was carried from the field.When Crystabell heard that her brave lover was lying at the point of death in Rome, she left her father and journeyed to the knight's bedside, where, to make him happy before he died, she consented to marry him on the spot.Eglamour rallied under the care of his beloved Crystabell; but, after they had spent some happy months together, Count Prinsamour found out his daughter's place of retreat, and carried her off from her husband, abusing him as a vile thief and imposter.Crystabell cried and lamented continually for her lost husband. After a while, a son was born to her,which made the count more angry than before. He took the unfortunate mother and child, put them, without food, into an open boat, and set them adrift upon the sea. The boat drifted for five days, and at last reached the shores of a country whose king proved to be the brother of Crystabell's own mother. He took the wayfarers under his care, and devoted himself to bringing up the boy, named Degrabell, to be a valiant knight.After a time, Eglamour travelled to Artois, and entering the count's hall by force, confronted his cruel father-in-law in the presence of all the knights and squires. He had heard of the fate of his wife and child, and his wrath was terrible to see. He cast the dragon's head, wings, and tail before the count, reminded him that his daughter had been fairly won, and called down God's judgment upon the unnatural father who had bereaved Eglamour of all he held dear in life. The count retreated to his strongest citadel in fear before the righteous anger of this mighty champion; but Eglamour seized the property of his late master, divided it among the count's worthy and needy subjects, and ordering masses to be sung in all the churches for the soul of his lost Crystabell, departedfor the Holy Land, where, during many years, he distinguished himself both in battle and in tournament against the Saracens.When her son, Sir Degrabell, had reached the age of eighteen, Crystabell was more beautiful than ever, and the king, her uncle, resolved to marry her to some knight who might make happy the remainder of her days. Crystabell, who still cherished the memory of her lost Sir Eglamour, begged her son to help her in this emergency. Sir Degrabell went to the king and insisted that all of the knights aspiring to his mother's hand should first meet him in the lists, and that only the one who should overthrow him might claim the princess as a wife.The king smiled at the pretentions of this beardless youth, and gave his consent. A tournament was announced, and to it came from all parts of the country persons of high rank seeking adventure. Knight after knight presented himself in the lists, and was swiftly unhorsed by the gallant Degrabell. At length the boy, flushed with conquest, turned to a stranger of distinguished appearance who stood gazing at the spectacle, without seeming to take any great interest in it, and asked if he too had a mind to break a lance.The stranger knight hesitated, then said that, to amuse himself, he would do so. Mounting his horse, he rode with the speed of a lightning flash against Degrabell, who was borne to the earth on the spot. Princess Crystabell had been watching the tourney with pride, but screamed aloud at her son's overthrow, and rushed into the arena, throwing herself on her knees before the stranger and imploring him to spare her boy. Trembling, she looked upon the victor's shield, and there saw depicted a rude device of a golden boat containing a lady and a child about to perish in the waves.On his side, the knight gazed at the lady in trembling, then bending his knee before her, revealed himself the long-lost Eglamour. Crystabell would have swooned for joy, had not her husband caught her in his arms. Eglamour, equally astonished and delighted, had still in store for him the rapture of recognizing in his brave young antagonist the son so worthy of his sire.Sir Eglamour and Lady Crystabell, thus happily reunited, lived together for the remainder of their days in prosperity. Degrabell became a famous champion. The old Count Prinsamour broke his neck by falling from his tower; and so, my tale is told!
"So Roswal and Lilian sheen,Lived many years in good liking.I pray to Jesu, heaven's king,To grant us heaven to our ending.Of them I have no more to say:God send them rest until doom's day!"ELIDUC AND GUILLIADUN.(From one of Marie's Lays.)EELIDUCwas a knight of Brittany who, through the cabals of enemies, fell under the displeasure of the king and was banished from his dominions. Sir Eliduc did not wish to forsake his country, still less did he wish to part with the fair Lady Guildeluec, to whom he was solemnly betrothed. But the king's order was law; and, taking a fond leave of his promised wife, while vowing ever to be faithful, Sir Eliduc called to him ten of the bravest of his followers, and set sail for the English coast. They had a short voyage with fair winds, landing at Totness, in Devonshire,and proceeded at once to Exeter. The King of Exeter was at that time plunged into a most distressful war with a neighboring province, to whose prince he had refused to marry his only daughter and heiress. Sir Eliduc offered his services to the king, which were gladly accepted. After a few days a battle was fought, in which Eliduc's knowledge of the art of war and his bravery, as well as that of his ten followers, helped to decide the fortunes of the King of Exeter, who had the satisfaction of seeing the foe put to flight. As a reward for his aid, the king made Eliduc the supreme commander of all his armies. Eliduc was the idol of the people, and soon the fair Princess Guilliadun fell in love with him, confiding to the king, her father, that she would have no other husband than this valiant stranger. The king thought he could do no better than secure such a noble successor to his throne, and sent his chamberlain to inform Eliduc of the honor in store for him. Eliduc was now in a sad plight. He thought of his absent Guildeluec, who was no doubt, even then, waiting and weeping for his return, and his heart grew heavy within him. On the other hand, the Princess Guilliadun was by far the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and her lovefor him was strong. To refuse her offered hand would bring down on him the fierce wrath of a great king, to whom no man said nay.While Sir Eliduc was in this dilemma, a message came to him from his former master, the Breton king, ordering his immediate return to protect their country from invasion. All Sir Eliduc's love for his own land stirred within him. To defend her borders he was ready to sacrifice his present rank and wealth, and be a simple knight again. The image of his promised wife arose clear and bright before him, and he forgot the lovely Guilliadun, who, for a time, had so dazzled his imagination with her charms.Laying down his sword before the sovereign, he resigned command of the Exeter troops, and, in spite of the king's rich offers and temptations, hurried to take ship for France. Among his attendants was a youth muffled in a long mantle, who, when they were fairly out at sea, revealed to the knight's astonished gaze the face and form of the wilful Guilliadun.She had thus disguised herself to follow him, and now vowed that unless he took her to be his wife, she would die by her own fair hand. There was no time for discussion, for, at that moment, arose a mightytempest which threatened to engulf the ship. In vain were the efforts of the sailors to manage the vessel, and all prepared for immediate death, as wind and waves beat furiously upon them. Suddenly, one of the sailors spoke up for the rest, and, in the hearing of Guilliadun, warned Sir Eliduc that Heaven was angry with him for carrying off the princess in disguise, when he was already promised in marriage to another woman. Guilliadun hearing these words, fell lifeless to the deck. She appeared so like a dead person that the crew offered to throw her overboard, but Eliduc, seizing an oar, struck down the sailor who had spoken, and, himself grasping the helm, drove the ship through foam and boiling waves safely to port. In a few hours he might hope to reach the court of his king; but what, meantime, should he do with the body of the unfortunate princess? In this emergency, he remembered that in a forest near by had once lived an aged hermit, in whose cell he might possibly leave the corpse of the princess, until he should be able to dispose of it in a style suited to her rank. He mounted his palfrey, took the body in his arms, rode to the hermit's retreat, and, gaining entrance to a little chapel, laid on a slab in the centre of it the unhappy Guilliadun.She was beautiful as ever, and looked like a waxen image. The knight, kneeling beside her, shed many bitter tears, and then, springing to his saddle, galloped off to place himself at the service of his king.He found the affairs of his country in a bad way, but the mere mention of his name sufficed to inspire the Breton soldiers with new courage. Marching at the head of the king's troops, he led them to battle, and in a short time had put the foe to confusion and rout. Covered with glory, Eliduc rode back to receive the king's congratulations and thanks. There, among the ladies attending the queen, was his faithful Guildeluec; but when she came forward with open arms to greet him, a thought of the Lady Guilliadun, who had died for love of him, shot into his heart like an arrow. Guildeluec quickly saw that something was amiss; but, hiding the anguish she felt, she resolved to keep close watch upon her lover, and, if possible, discover the cause of his coldness.For some days the court was given up to gaiety and festivals of all kinds. Guildeluec noticed that every day her knight would steal away to the forest and remain there for some hours, returning to the palace more melancholy than before. She set a little page tofollow Eliduc, and the boy traced his master to a retreat all overgrown with trees, where the knight entered and was lost to sight.Dismissing the boy with a piece of gold, the lady resolved herself to unravel the mystery. Wrapped in a long veil, she stole along the green alleys of the wood, and soon reached the little hermitage. Lifting up a curtain of closely woven vines which drooped before it, she entered the chapel door. There, on a bier richly hung with velvet, lay a young and lovely maiden, apparently dead, save that her cheeks bloomed like a new-blown rose. Guildeluec gazed for a while upon this sad sight, when a noise of approaching footsteps startled her, and she hid behind a tomb. The new-comer was none other than the brave knight Eliduc, who, casting himself on the ground beside the bier, gave way to bitter grief, calling the saints above to witness that he had been true to his pledge to Guildeluec, even to hastening to an untimely end the fair maiden before him. Guildeluec heard all, and understood what had taken his love from her. Just then a weasel, running from behind the altar, passed near the bier, which angered the knight, who, at one blow, struck the little animal dead upon the ground. WhenEliduc had gone, the watching lady saw another weasel run up to his slaughtered companion, attempt to play with her, and on finding her without life, go away with every appearance of grief. Directly the weasel came back again, carrying a beautiful red flower from the wood, which was carefully inserted in the mouth of his companion. The effect was magical. Instantly, the dead weasel sprang up, dropped the flower, and scampered off with her happy little comrade.Guildeluec stooped to pick up the fallen blossom. For a moment she hesitated, for her love for the knight was very great. Then she bent forward, and laid the stem of the flower between the rosy lips of the entranced Guilliadun. Immediately there were signs of life. The girl stirred, a blush came into her cheeks, and her lips parted. When her eyes opened, Guildeluec sighed and said, "Truly, never was there seen so fair a creature."Guildeluec soon explained to the awakened princess where she was, and received her fervent thanks for delivery from so strange a spell. With many tears, Guilliadun confessed to her unknown friend her love for the knight Eliduc, and the way she had followed him from her father's court. Guildeluec heard hertale in silence, and when it was at an end, led her away from the hermitage to the palace, where the queen took the princess under her charge, and in the evening presented her with much pomp to the members of her court. When Eliduc saw Guilliadun alive and well, richly clad and lovelier than before, his heart rejoiced, but he turned away from her. Then came forward Guildeluec, who, with the queen's permission, released him from his pledge to her, and gave him back his ring, saying she had determined to retire to a convent and devote her days to holy works.Guildeluec Reviving Guilliadun.Guildeluec Reviving Guilliadun.The queen then placed Guilliadun's hand in that of Eliduc. They were married with great rejoicings; but when the blessing was said over them by the priest, the knight fancied he heard a sigh breathed close in his ear. He looked around; there was no one in sight, save the group of nuns behind a grating, whose voices rose pure and clear in the strains of the bridal hymn.THE FALCON-KING.(From one of Marie's Lays.)TTHERElived once, in Britain, an old knight who was lord of Caerwent, a city situated on the River Douglas. He was wealthy and avaricious, and the sole heir to his possessions, a lovely daughter, he kept locked up in a high tower, under the care of a cross governess. His one fear was that this daughter would marry, and thus give some one the right to lay claim to the gold that was dearer to him than life itself. To prevent her from getting a husband, the old knight used every method he could think of to keep off visitors; and any stray caller at the castle was set upon by fierce dogs, who would tear one to pieces as soon as gnaw a beef-bone!Day after day the father rode off to the hunt, the governess told her beads, and the damsel moped within the tower. One morning she was at her wheel, singing a mournful ditty, and sighing from time to time, as she glanced over the tree-tops at the roofs and spires of the distant city, when suddenly the sky above her window was darkened, and she heard a whirring noise, as of mighty wings astir. A falcon of huge size and noble mien flew in at the casement, and lit submissively at her feet. The maiden stroked his proud head, and at once the bird changed to a beautiful young man, who, in a gentle voice, begged her to have no fear of him, as he was not only a devoted lover but the humblest of her slaves."Bid me go if you will," said the prince, "and deeply as I should regret your command, you will see how quickly I shall obey it. Long have I watched you from afar, and dearly I love you. For your sake, I have acquired the art of magic, enabling me to assume this shape in order to reach your prison.""Oh! but Idon'twant you to go!" cried the poor little mewed-up damsel, who was tired to death of having nobody to talk to.As she had never seen a man younger than herfather, it was a great astonishment to her to find that the prince's hair was dark and his cheek unwrinkled and rosy as a ripe peach.What he meant by being a lover, she did not in the least understand. Only, it was pleasant to hear him talk in his kind, low voice; and praises were so rare to her, that they sounded sweet as honey dropping from his lips.As a matter of course, the afternoon passed quickly; but at last, startled by the noise of a key grating in the lock of the door, the prince quickly assumed his bird-shape, and promising to come again upon the morrow, flew out of the window. The governess could not imagine what had put her prisoner in such a silly state of cheerfulness, as she thought it; and, boxing the poor girl's ears for smiling, gave her a long piece of poetry to learn by heart, and allowed her nothing but bread and water for her tea.Next day the falcon came again, and for many days he continued his visits, until the girl grew to love him as he loved her, and promised to be his wife. Once a month the chaplain was accustomed to come to see her, and to make her say a catechism the longest ever heard of. When next the day came around for hisvisit, what was her surprise, instead of the stern chaplain, to find a gentle and kind old priest, who, when left alone with her, avowed himself to be a friend of the falcon-prince."As your father is a wicked and unworthy son of the church, and the prince a noble and devoted one, I cannot but approve of the marriage between you and your beloved," the old man said. "The ceremony will now be performed, and may heaven's blessing rest upon you both."The falcon-prince arrived at the same moment, bearing in his beak a wedding-ring of large bright diamonds. The couple were married, and the prince told his wife that, very soon, he would be able to furnish her also with wings to leave the tower.One day the governess, coming in unexpectedly, found the girl toying with a beautiful ring, which she hurriedly concealed in her mattress. Spite of all the governess' efforts, she could not find the jewel; nor could she succeed in drawing from her captive any explanation of how she had come by it. The governess told the father, who redoubled his precautions and set spies to watch upon the outside of the tower. In a few days, the spies reported to him that they had seena bird of the largest size fly in at the maiden's window, remain there for some hours, and then fly out again."I'll be a match for this carrier-pigeon of hers!" said the old knight with malicious glee. That night a trap was set upon the outside of the window, surrounded by sharp knives, so that anything passing through it would inevitably be caught or wounded grievously. The young wife awaited her husband anxiously, for it was the day fixed for her escape. Soon he arrived; but as he touched the window the trap fell, and although he managed to pass in, a long trail of blood was left behind him."Lose no time, my beloved!" he said, in a voice altered by pain. "Our enemies are upon us. Put this bracelet on your arm, and spring into the air after me, without fear."She obeyed, and found herself upborne by magic wings, which carried her more swiftly than the wind over forest tops, shining river, and city spires and domes. Glorious as was her airy flight, she could see that her companion grew weaker. They arrived in a country adjoining the one in which she had lived, and stopped immediately above a splendid palace—alighting in the marble balcony of a chamber furnishedwith the utmost magnificence. Here the falcon regained his man's shape, and, with despair, his wife saw that he was deathly pale, while the blood poured from a wound beneath his heart."I am dying," he exclaimed. "Help me to my bed yonder, and may heaven grant me strength to tell my people that you are their lawful queen."The poor wife aided her husband to lie down, but when he would have spoken to her again, his voice was gone—a moment more, and he was dead.And now in what a mournful plight the pretty new queen found herself! Soon the attendants would, no doubt, come flocking into the room, to discover their sovereign murdered in his bed, and a stranger cowering by his side. Terror lent speed to her feet, and hastening back to the balcony, she ran down a long flight of stairs communicating with the outer court and garden of the palace. Thence she escaped to wander into the forest, and until day broke again she never ceased to walk. For some days she remained concealed in the forest, living upon fruit and berries, until at last hunger drove her to the cottage of a poor laborer. The wife of this man was very ill, and the queen offered to stay and nurse her, whichwas gratefully accepted. So faithful and devoted an attendant she proved that, when the woman of the house got well, both husband and wife insisted their stranger guest should make her home with them. In this secluded retreat, where only a stray huntsman now and then passed by, the queen remained until a beautiful son was born to her. And now, she felt a burning desire to have her boy educated in a manner worthy of his father's rank; and poverty, that had seemed so light a burden to herself, grew heavy when it weighed on him. When the baby was three years old, a gay hunting-party passed that way, among them a rich and childless lady, who, charmed with the beauty of the boy, offered to adopt him on the spot.The poor queen wept so bitterly at thought of parting with her treasure, that the lady, who was a kind-hearted person, proposed she should accompany them and serve in the capacity of the boy's governess.To this plan the queen made no objection; and, bidding an affectionate farewell to her humble friends, she took her place with the boy in a travelling carriage sent to fetch them.Years rolled on, and the child born in the forest hadreached the age of twenty-one. He was a handsome, manly youth, and skilled in all athletic exercises. About this time, the family of his adopted mother was invited to be present at a great religious ceremony in an abbey upon the borders of a neighboring kingdom. Among the many attendants of the nobles summoned for the occasion, was the real mother, who came dressed in deep mourning and wearing a veil over her face; and one of the guests was the wicked old knight, her father. The abbot of the monastery threw open the doors of the chapel, that had long been sealed, and all flocked into it. There, in the centre, stood a bier covered with cloth of gold and surrounded by blazing wax-lights, while about it knelt an hundred priests, at prayer. After a mass had been sung, the abbot announced that in yonder bier lay the remains of the late king, their master, who, as all his faithful subjects knew, was foully murdered twenty-one years before; and that, by the terms of the king's will, found some time after his death, the throne rightfully belonged to a lady who had been married in secret by their sovereign, and was by him commended to their truest love and honor. "For many long years," added the good abbot, "we have sought vainly for the widow of ourlamented ruler; not the faintest trace of her has ever been found, and we have resolved to meet here and choose to-day a successor to our king.""Here is a worthy successor to your king!" cried a voice from the throng; and the unfortunate queen, throwing back her veil, pointed to her astonished son. "Behold the rightful heir! Who dares to say that he is not the image of his father?Iam the queen you have so long sought, and this youth is, unknown to himself, my son. In proof of it, here is the marriage ring given me by the king.""And in proof of it," exclaimed a venerable priest, coming forward, "I attest thatIperformed the marriage ceremony between our king and this poor lady. Her appearance and her claim remove the seal from my promise of secresy, and I unhesitatingly declare this youth to be our lawful sovereign."All eyes turned upon the young man, and all tongues proclaimed his marvellous resemblance to the king. The abbot knelt at the young man's feet and offered him a golden crown carried on a velvet cushion. Loud cries of joy and cheers filled the air, when suddenly the unfortunate queen was seen to totter toward the bier of her husband."I am glad to die on this spot," she said, snatching up the sword that lay upon the tomb and placing it in her son's hand; then, bidding him avenge the sad fate of his parents, she immediately expired. At the same moment, a white-haired knight tried to steal away from the church; but when the ancient priest perceived him, the fugitive was denounced as the murderer of their king. Seized by the populace, the wretched old miser was hurried to instant death; his grandson was carried in triumph to the palace, and there installed as king.The new monarch reigned long and wisely—an example for all future sovereigns.EGLAMOUR AND CRYSTABELL.(From Ellis' Abstract of Copy in Garrick Collection.)CCOUNTPrinsamour, an independent sovereign of Artois, was famed for his skill in training young men in the courtesy and accomplishments of chivalry. His court was the resort of all youths who wished to excel in those important arts. His daughter Crystabell, the heiress of Count Prinsamour's dominions, was very beautiful and accomplished, and her father designed to marry her to some powerful monarch. The tournaments instituted at his court were in her honor, and for her sake all the hotheaded young knights in training broke their lances.Crystabell herself had no desire to leave her own country to become the wife of a foreign monarch. She loved the free and stirring air around her father'scastle, and had, unknown to the count, fallen in love with a young knight, Sir Eglamour, who was ever victorious in the numerous tournaments ridden in her name.Eglamour, on his side, looked up to the young countess as to a star. He never dreamed of winning her love, because he was only a knight, without wealth or lands, depending upon his sword alone to make his way through life. At last, one day, something that Crystabell said made him think that she cared for him more than for the rest of her followers. Sorely troubled, and yet strangely happy, the young man wandered off to think it over. He finally resolved to ask advice of the chamberlain, who had always stood his friend. That personage counselled him to give up all thoughts of the countess, who, he said, was destined by her father to be the bride of a rich and great king. Eglamour sighed, and admitted that his friend was right. But that night, in the solitude of his chamber, he addressed a prayer to God:"Lord," he said, "grant me a boon,As thou on rood me bought!The erle's daughter, fair and free,That she may my wife be!For she is most in my thought:That I may wed her to my wife,And in joy to lead our life!From care then were I brought."In those days a true knight thought it no shame to his manhood to take the burden of his every-day cares and lay it in all simplicity at the feet of his Maker. When his devotions were at an end, Sir Eglamour slept soundly, and awoke in better heart.After a while, Sir Eglamour fell ill, and the count desired his daughter, who was skilled in medicine, as were all great ladies of the time, to attend upon the invalid. Crystabell, followed by her damsels, went at once into the sick-room. She found Sir Eglamour feverish and unhappy, and on bending down to minister to him, his pulse throbbed so violently at her touch, that the tears of sympathy came into her eyes. "I have betrayed my love," thought Sir Eglamour; but what was his happiness when the lady bent down to kiss his lips, confessing that the chamberlain had told her what was the real cause of his malady; and, to comfort Eglamour, she bid him live for her sake.Eglamour & Crystabell.Eglamour & Crystabell.After this, Eglamour got well rapidly; but he felt it right and honorable to inform the count, at once, howmatters stood between the two young people. The count, who, although a brave knight, was largely governed by selfish ambition, refused Sir Eglamour with scorn. Then, after thinking a while, he told the youth that he would only bestow his daughter upon the champion who might accomplish three perilous feats of arms, each one of which would expose the candidate to the most imminent danger; and that the victor should not only receive the hand of Crystabell, but in time inherit the whole territory of Artois.Overjoyed, Sir Eglamour accepted the conditions without delay. He declared he was ready to set off that day or the next upon the enterprise. He did not suspect the count's real purpose in setting him this task, which was to destroy the rash knight who presumed to love his daughter."At a little distance to the westward," said the count, "there is a forest of noble trees belonging to a most terrible giant, named Maroke. In a part of the forest shut off for the giant's own hunting ground, are three deer, famed for their size and speed. To hunt one of these celebrated animals is, of course, to challenge an encounter with their owner. Consider whether you have courage enough for such an enterprise."Sir Eglamour smiled, promised to kill the giant, and hurried off to tell his lady-love. Crystabell trembled and wept, but bid her lover God-speed. She told him that no man ever set forth upon a more arduous journey in a Christian country, but that she gloried in his brave spirit. She gave him a good greyhound, from whom no deer that ever ran had yet escaped—also a sword, once found in the sea, the only one of the kind in the world, and which could carve in two any helmet of steel or iron. Eglamour kissed her farewell, as he received these gifts, and set out with a light heart.Reaching the giant's park, he followed the wall to a massive gate, burst it open, and entered the wood. This forest was of huge cypress trees, and Eglamour had the luck soon to come upon the three deer grazing quietly. They were the most immense creatures he had ever seen; and singling out the largest, he attacked it. With the help of the dun greyhound, he brought the stag to earth, and set to work to carve his spoil. Laden with venison, he then approached the giant's castle, blowing his horn at intervals; and, when arrived there, he sounded a wild and merry blast, which roused Maroke from sleep and brought him in fury to the gate.Sir Eglamour politely asked the monster to give him leave to pass through the grounds with his prey.The giant, gnashing his teeth in rage, answered by aiming a blow with his club at the saucy young knight's head. Sir Eglamour, at the same moment, drew Crystabell's sword, which shone so brightly as to dazzle the eyes of Maroke, striking him stone-blind where he stood. Then followed a mighty combat. Blind as the giant was, he foughtwell and skilfully for three entire days. At the end of the third day, Sir Eglamour rallied all his strength and drove his sword into the giant's heart, a thrust which sent Maroke crashing like a forest tree to earth.Sir Eglamour, having cut off his enemy's head, carried it, together with the slaughtered stag, back to the court of his sovereign. The count received him ruefully; but fair Crystabell laughed and rejoiced, while the courtiers covered their champion with praises. After Eglamour was rested and refreshed, the count hurried him off again. This time he was to journey to the distant land of Satyn, where his task was to fetch away the head of a prodigious boar, the terror of that ill-fated country, half of whose inhabitants the creature had already eaten up.To reach the land of Satyn, Sir Eglamour had to travel a fortnight by sea, a fortnight by land. Arriving there at nightfall, he thought it prudent to spend the night in resting on the borders of the forest. At sunrise next day he approached the den of the horrible boar, who had just come back from taking his morning drink in the sea. The animal was a terror to look upon, having flaming eyes and tusks a yard long. He lay gnawing some human bones and growling frightfully,surrounded by dead bodies, many of which were clad in knightly armor. At once Sir Eglamour dashed at him with a shout—"For God and Crystabell!" The boar whetted his long tusks and set upon his adversary, killing at the first blow Sir Eglamour's noble horse, his own tough hide remaining unhurt by the spear. Sir Eglamour now had recourse to his magic sword, and found to his joy that, wherever he struck, the boar's hide was cut; although the length of the animal's tusks made it difficult to close with him. This combat, like that with the giant, lasted three days, and at the end Sir Eglamour, by a sudden swift movement, made a terrible blow at the creature's neck, severing the head from his body.Long before the close of this memorable fight, the boar's snorts of rage and defiance had attracted to the spot the King of Satyn and fifteen of his knights, who happened to be hunting in the forest. When the boar dropped dead, Sir Eglamour fell over him, and lay there completely exhausted. The king and his men drew near, showered compliments on the strange knight's bravery, and told him that the wicked beast of whom he had rid them had sometimes destroyed as many as forty men in one day.The king ordered a cloth to be laid upon the grass, and Sir Eglamour was regaled with venison and rich wine, which brought strength back to his arm and hope to his heart. The king's men then attempted to cut up the boar, but failed, owing to the toughness of his hide. The sword of Sir Eglamour was put into requisition, and in a moment the beast was cleft asunder along the back bone. The meat was distributed among the knights and men-at-arms, Sir Eglamour claiming the head alone. The King of Satyn afterward ordered for the champion a warm bath of certain sweet-scented herbs that healed his wounds and in which he rested pleasantly till break of day. Then the party went on to the king's palace, where Sir Eglamour was asked to stay and recover from his fatigue.Now it happened that the boar just slain was an intimate friend of Manas, a huge and frightful giant, own brother to Maroke. Manas had fallen in love with the King of Satyn's daughter, and had vowed to carry her off. When Manas came prowling around the castle that evening, and beheld on the point of a spear over the gateway the head of his friend the boar, he flew into an awful passion, foaming at the mouth; and as he looked on that head—"Alas!" he cried, "art thou dead?My trust was all in thee!Now, by the law that I live in,My little speckled hoglin,Dear bought shall thy death be!"Manas beat upon the door and walls of the castle in a fury, demanding the surrender of the murderer of his dear little speckled hoglin. Presently, Sir Eglamour,fully armed and equipped, mounted on a fiery courser, and with lance in rest, attacked the giant at full speed.Manas resisted vigorously, and in an instant overthrew man and horse. The king, the princess, and the court, who had assembled on the walls of the castle, began to tremble for the safety of their champion. But Sir Eglamour, lightly springing to his feet, drew his invincible sword, and closing with the giant, cut off his right arm. The monster roared with pain, but continued to fight, though yelling at intervals as loudly as ever, till near sunset, when the patient knight, who had hitherto suffered him to exhaust himself by his own efforts, suddenly rushed forward and completed the victory! The boar and Manas being dead, Eglamour now took his leave of the grateful King of Satyn and his court, who rejoiced greatly over the death of their two adversaries. The heads of the boar and the giant Manas were carefully packed up, and in due time Eglamour laid them at the feet of his faithful Crystabell.Count Prinsamour, secretly disgusted at his knight's success, at once sent him off on another enterprise, more dangerous than the two preceding ones. Eglamour and Crystabell, now seeing that the false countwas determined to prevent their marriage, parted from each other with many tears. But Crystabell vowed to marry him, with or without her father's leave, so soon as he should return, if ever he did, from the present journey.The third mission was to kill a tremendous dragon, at that time desolating the country around the gates of Rome. After sundry adventures by the way, Eglamour encountered the beast, and fought it long and valiantly. He succeeded in cutting off its wings, tail, and head; but at last he fell himself, exhausted by his wounds and poisoned by the dragon's sting, and was carried from the field.When Crystabell heard that her brave lover was lying at the point of death in Rome, she left her father and journeyed to the knight's bedside, where, to make him happy before he died, she consented to marry him on the spot.Eglamour rallied under the care of his beloved Crystabell; but, after they had spent some happy months together, Count Prinsamour found out his daughter's place of retreat, and carried her off from her husband, abusing him as a vile thief and imposter.Crystabell cried and lamented continually for her lost husband. After a while, a son was born to her,which made the count more angry than before. He took the unfortunate mother and child, put them, without food, into an open boat, and set them adrift upon the sea. The boat drifted for five days, and at last reached the shores of a country whose king proved to be the brother of Crystabell's own mother. He took the wayfarers under his care, and devoted himself to bringing up the boy, named Degrabell, to be a valiant knight.After a time, Eglamour travelled to Artois, and entering the count's hall by force, confronted his cruel father-in-law in the presence of all the knights and squires. He had heard of the fate of his wife and child, and his wrath was terrible to see. He cast the dragon's head, wings, and tail before the count, reminded him that his daughter had been fairly won, and called down God's judgment upon the unnatural father who had bereaved Eglamour of all he held dear in life. The count retreated to his strongest citadel in fear before the righteous anger of this mighty champion; but Eglamour seized the property of his late master, divided it among the count's worthy and needy subjects, and ordering masses to be sung in all the churches for the soul of his lost Crystabell, departedfor the Holy Land, where, during many years, he distinguished himself both in battle and in tournament against the Saracens.When her son, Sir Degrabell, had reached the age of eighteen, Crystabell was more beautiful than ever, and the king, her uncle, resolved to marry her to some knight who might make happy the remainder of her days. Crystabell, who still cherished the memory of her lost Sir Eglamour, begged her son to help her in this emergency. Sir Degrabell went to the king and insisted that all of the knights aspiring to his mother's hand should first meet him in the lists, and that only the one who should overthrow him might claim the princess as a wife.The king smiled at the pretentions of this beardless youth, and gave his consent. A tournament was announced, and to it came from all parts of the country persons of high rank seeking adventure. Knight after knight presented himself in the lists, and was swiftly unhorsed by the gallant Degrabell. At length the boy, flushed with conquest, turned to a stranger of distinguished appearance who stood gazing at the spectacle, without seeming to take any great interest in it, and asked if he too had a mind to break a lance.The stranger knight hesitated, then said that, to amuse himself, he would do so. Mounting his horse, he rode with the speed of a lightning flash against Degrabell, who was borne to the earth on the spot. Princess Crystabell had been watching the tourney with pride, but screamed aloud at her son's overthrow, and rushed into the arena, throwing herself on her knees before the stranger and imploring him to spare her boy. Trembling, she looked upon the victor's shield, and there saw depicted a rude device of a golden boat containing a lady and a child about to perish in the waves.On his side, the knight gazed at the lady in trembling, then bending his knee before her, revealed himself the long-lost Eglamour. Crystabell would have swooned for joy, had not her husband caught her in his arms. Eglamour, equally astonished and delighted, had still in store for him the rapture of recognizing in his brave young antagonist the son so worthy of his sire.Sir Eglamour and Lady Crystabell, thus happily reunited, lived together for the remainder of their days in prosperity. Degrabell became a famous champion. The old Count Prinsamour broke his neck by falling from his tower; and so, my tale is told!
"So Roswal and Lilian sheen,Lived many years in good liking.I pray to Jesu, heaven's king,To grant us heaven to our ending.Of them I have no more to say:God send them rest until doom's day!"
"So Roswal and Lilian sheen,Lived many years in good liking.I pray to Jesu, heaven's king,To grant us heaven to our ending.Of them I have no more to say:God send them rest until doom's day!"
(From one of Marie's Lays.)
ELIDUCwas a knight of Brittany who, through the cabals of enemies, fell under the displeasure of the king and was banished from his dominions. Sir Eliduc did not wish to forsake his country, still less did he wish to part with the fair Lady Guildeluec, to whom he was solemnly betrothed. But the king's order was law; and, taking a fond leave of his promised wife, while vowing ever to be faithful, Sir Eliduc called to him ten of the bravest of his followers, and set sail for the English coast. They had a short voyage with fair winds, landing at Totness, in Devonshire,and proceeded at once to Exeter. The King of Exeter was at that time plunged into a most distressful war with a neighboring province, to whose prince he had refused to marry his only daughter and heiress. Sir Eliduc offered his services to the king, which were gladly accepted. After a few days a battle was fought, in which Eliduc's knowledge of the art of war and his bravery, as well as that of his ten followers, helped to decide the fortunes of the King of Exeter, who had the satisfaction of seeing the foe put to flight. As a reward for his aid, the king made Eliduc the supreme commander of all his armies. Eliduc was the idol of the people, and soon the fair Princess Guilliadun fell in love with him, confiding to the king, her father, that she would have no other husband than this valiant stranger. The king thought he could do no better than secure such a noble successor to his throne, and sent his chamberlain to inform Eliduc of the honor in store for him. Eliduc was now in a sad plight. He thought of his absent Guildeluec, who was no doubt, even then, waiting and weeping for his return, and his heart grew heavy within him. On the other hand, the Princess Guilliadun was by far the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and her lovefor him was strong. To refuse her offered hand would bring down on him the fierce wrath of a great king, to whom no man said nay.
While Sir Eliduc was in this dilemma, a message came to him from his former master, the Breton king, ordering his immediate return to protect their country from invasion. All Sir Eliduc's love for his own land stirred within him. To defend her borders he was ready to sacrifice his present rank and wealth, and be a simple knight again. The image of his promised wife arose clear and bright before him, and he forgot the lovely Guilliadun, who, for a time, had so dazzled his imagination with her charms.
Laying down his sword before the sovereign, he resigned command of the Exeter troops, and, in spite of the king's rich offers and temptations, hurried to take ship for France. Among his attendants was a youth muffled in a long mantle, who, when they were fairly out at sea, revealed to the knight's astonished gaze the face and form of the wilful Guilliadun.
She had thus disguised herself to follow him, and now vowed that unless he took her to be his wife, she would die by her own fair hand. There was no time for discussion, for, at that moment, arose a mightytempest which threatened to engulf the ship. In vain were the efforts of the sailors to manage the vessel, and all prepared for immediate death, as wind and waves beat furiously upon them. Suddenly, one of the sailors spoke up for the rest, and, in the hearing of Guilliadun, warned Sir Eliduc that Heaven was angry with him for carrying off the princess in disguise, when he was already promised in marriage to another woman. Guilliadun hearing these words, fell lifeless to the deck. She appeared so like a dead person that the crew offered to throw her overboard, but Eliduc, seizing an oar, struck down the sailor who had spoken, and, himself grasping the helm, drove the ship through foam and boiling waves safely to port. In a few hours he might hope to reach the court of his king; but what, meantime, should he do with the body of the unfortunate princess? In this emergency, he remembered that in a forest near by had once lived an aged hermit, in whose cell he might possibly leave the corpse of the princess, until he should be able to dispose of it in a style suited to her rank. He mounted his palfrey, took the body in his arms, rode to the hermit's retreat, and, gaining entrance to a little chapel, laid on a slab in the centre of it the unhappy Guilliadun.She was beautiful as ever, and looked like a waxen image. The knight, kneeling beside her, shed many bitter tears, and then, springing to his saddle, galloped off to place himself at the service of his king.
He found the affairs of his country in a bad way, but the mere mention of his name sufficed to inspire the Breton soldiers with new courage. Marching at the head of the king's troops, he led them to battle, and in a short time had put the foe to confusion and rout. Covered with glory, Eliduc rode back to receive the king's congratulations and thanks. There, among the ladies attending the queen, was his faithful Guildeluec; but when she came forward with open arms to greet him, a thought of the Lady Guilliadun, who had died for love of him, shot into his heart like an arrow. Guildeluec quickly saw that something was amiss; but, hiding the anguish she felt, she resolved to keep close watch upon her lover, and, if possible, discover the cause of his coldness.
For some days the court was given up to gaiety and festivals of all kinds. Guildeluec noticed that every day her knight would steal away to the forest and remain there for some hours, returning to the palace more melancholy than before. She set a little page tofollow Eliduc, and the boy traced his master to a retreat all overgrown with trees, where the knight entered and was lost to sight.
Dismissing the boy with a piece of gold, the lady resolved herself to unravel the mystery. Wrapped in a long veil, she stole along the green alleys of the wood, and soon reached the little hermitage. Lifting up a curtain of closely woven vines which drooped before it, she entered the chapel door. There, on a bier richly hung with velvet, lay a young and lovely maiden, apparently dead, save that her cheeks bloomed like a new-blown rose. Guildeluec gazed for a while upon this sad sight, when a noise of approaching footsteps startled her, and she hid behind a tomb. The new-comer was none other than the brave knight Eliduc, who, casting himself on the ground beside the bier, gave way to bitter grief, calling the saints above to witness that he had been true to his pledge to Guildeluec, even to hastening to an untimely end the fair maiden before him. Guildeluec heard all, and understood what had taken his love from her. Just then a weasel, running from behind the altar, passed near the bier, which angered the knight, who, at one blow, struck the little animal dead upon the ground. WhenEliduc had gone, the watching lady saw another weasel run up to his slaughtered companion, attempt to play with her, and on finding her without life, go away with every appearance of grief. Directly the weasel came back again, carrying a beautiful red flower from the wood, which was carefully inserted in the mouth of his companion. The effect was magical. Instantly, the dead weasel sprang up, dropped the flower, and scampered off with her happy little comrade.
Guildeluec stooped to pick up the fallen blossom. For a moment she hesitated, for her love for the knight was very great. Then she bent forward, and laid the stem of the flower between the rosy lips of the entranced Guilliadun. Immediately there were signs of life. The girl stirred, a blush came into her cheeks, and her lips parted. When her eyes opened, Guildeluec sighed and said, "Truly, never was there seen so fair a creature."
Guildeluec soon explained to the awakened princess where she was, and received her fervent thanks for delivery from so strange a spell. With many tears, Guilliadun confessed to her unknown friend her love for the knight Eliduc, and the way she had followed him from her father's court. Guildeluec heard hertale in silence, and when it was at an end, led her away from the hermitage to the palace, where the queen took the princess under her charge, and in the evening presented her with much pomp to the members of her court. When Eliduc saw Guilliadun alive and well, richly clad and lovelier than before, his heart rejoiced, but he turned away from her. Then came forward Guildeluec, who, with the queen's permission, released him from his pledge to her, and gave him back his ring, saying she had determined to retire to a convent and devote her days to holy works.
Guildeluec Reviving Guilliadun.Guildeluec Reviving Guilliadun.
Guildeluec Reviving Guilliadun.
The queen then placed Guilliadun's hand in that of Eliduc. They were married with great rejoicings; but when the blessing was said over them by the priest, the knight fancied he heard a sigh breathed close in his ear. He looked around; there was no one in sight, save the group of nuns behind a grating, whose voices rose pure and clear in the strains of the bridal hymn.
(From one of Marie's Lays.)
THERElived once, in Britain, an old knight who was lord of Caerwent, a city situated on the River Douglas. He was wealthy and avaricious, and the sole heir to his possessions, a lovely daughter, he kept locked up in a high tower, under the care of a cross governess. His one fear was that this daughter would marry, and thus give some one the right to lay claim to the gold that was dearer to him than life itself. To prevent her from getting a husband, the old knight used every method he could think of to keep off visitors; and any stray caller at the castle was set upon by fierce dogs, who would tear one to pieces as soon as gnaw a beef-bone!
Day after day the father rode off to the hunt, the governess told her beads, and the damsel moped within the tower. One morning she was at her wheel, singing a mournful ditty, and sighing from time to time, as she glanced over the tree-tops at the roofs and spires of the distant city, when suddenly the sky above her window was darkened, and she heard a whirring noise, as of mighty wings astir. A falcon of huge size and noble mien flew in at the casement, and lit submissively at her feet. The maiden stroked his proud head, and at once the bird changed to a beautiful young man, who, in a gentle voice, begged her to have no fear of him, as he was not only a devoted lover but the humblest of her slaves.
"Bid me go if you will," said the prince, "and deeply as I should regret your command, you will see how quickly I shall obey it. Long have I watched you from afar, and dearly I love you. For your sake, I have acquired the art of magic, enabling me to assume this shape in order to reach your prison."
"Oh! but Idon'twant you to go!" cried the poor little mewed-up damsel, who was tired to death of having nobody to talk to.
As she had never seen a man younger than herfather, it was a great astonishment to her to find that the prince's hair was dark and his cheek unwrinkled and rosy as a ripe peach.
What he meant by being a lover, she did not in the least understand. Only, it was pleasant to hear him talk in his kind, low voice; and praises were so rare to her, that they sounded sweet as honey dropping from his lips.
As a matter of course, the afternoon passed quickly; but at last, startled by the noise of a key grating in the lock of the door, the prince quickly assumed his bird-shape, and promising to come again upon the morrow, flew out of the window. The governess could not imagine what had put her prisoner in such a silly state of cheerfulness, as she thought it; and, boxing the poor girl's ears for smiling, gave her a long piece of poetry to learn by heart, and allowed her nothing but bread and water for her tea.
Next day the falcon came again, and for many days he continued his visits, until the girl grew to love him as he loved her, and promised to be his wife. Once a month the chaplain was accustomed to come to see her, and to make her say a catechism the longest ever heard of. When next the day came around for hisvisit, what was her surprise, instead of the stern chaplain, to find a gentle and kind old priest, who, when left alone with her, avowed himself to be a friend of the falcon-prince.
"As your father is a wicked and unworthy son of the church, and the prince a noble and devoted one, I cannot but approve of the marriage between you and your beloved," the old man said. "The ceremony will now be performed, and may heaven's blessing rest upon you both."
The falcon-prince arrived at the same moment, bearing in his beak a wedding-ring of large bright diamonds. The couple were married, and the prince told his wife that, very soon, he would be able to furnish her also with wings to leave the tower.
One day the governess, coming in unexpectedly, found the girl toying with a beautiful ring, which she hurriedly concealed in her mattress. Spite of all the governess' efforts, she could not find the jewel; nor could she succeed in drawing from her captive any explanation of how she had come by it. The governess told the father, who redoubled his precautions and set spies to watch upon the outside of the tower. In a few days, the spies reported to him that they had seena bird of the largest size fly in at the maiden's window, remain there for some hours, and then fly out again.
"I'll be a match for this carrier-pigeon of hers!" said the old knight with malicious glee. That night a trap was set upon the outside of the window, surrounded by sharp knives, so that anything passing through it would inevitably be caught or wounded grievously. The young wife awaited her husband anxiously, for it was the day fixed for her escape. Soon he arrived; but as he touched the window the trap fell, and although he managed to pass in, a long trail of blood was left behind him.
"Lose no time, my beloved!" he said, in a voice altered by pain. "Our enemies are upon us. Put this bracelet on your arm, and spring into the air after me, without fear."
She obeyed, and found herself upborne by magic wings, which carried her more swiftly than the wind over forest tops, shining river, and city spires and domes. Glorious as was her airy flight, she could see that her companion grew weaker. They arrived in a country adjoining the one in which she had lived, and stopped immediately above a splendid palace—alighting in the marble balcony of a chamber furnishedwith the utmost magnificence. Here the falcon regained his man's shape, and, with despair, his wife saw that he was deathly pale, while the blood poured from a wound beneath his heart.
"I am dying," he exclaimed. "Help me to my bed yonder, and may heaven grant me strength to tell my people that you are their lawful queen."
The poor wife aided her husband to lie down, but when he would have spoken to her again, his voice was gone—a moment more, and he was dead.
And now in what a mournful plight the pretty new queen found herself! Soon the attendants would, no doubt, come flocking into the room, to discover their sovereign murdered in his bed, and a stranger cowering by his side. Terror lent speed to her feet, and hastening back to the balcony, she ran down a long flight of stairs communicating with the outer court and garden of the palace. Thence she escaped to wander into the forest, and until day broke again she never ceased to walk. For some days she remained concealed in the forest, living upon fruit and berries, until at last hunger drove her to the cottage of a poor laborer. The wife of this man was very ill, and the queen offered to stay and nurse her, whichwas gratefully accepted. So faithful and devoted an attendant she proved that, when the woman of the house got well, both husband and wife insisted their stranger guest should make her home with them. In this secluded retreat, where only a stray huntsman now and then passed by, the queen remained until a beautiful son was born to her. And now, she felt a burning desire to have her boy educated in a manner worthy of his father's rank; and poverty, that had seemed so light a burden to herself, grew heavy when it weighed on him. When the baby was three years old, a gay hunting-party passed that way, among them a rich and childless lady, who, charmed with the beauty of the boy, offered to adopt him on the spot.
The poor queen wept so bitterly at thought of parting with her treasure, that the lady, who was a kind-hearted person, proposed she should accompany them and serve in the capacity of the boy's governess.
To this plan the queen made no objection; and, bidding an affectionate farewell to her humble friends, she took her place with the boy in a travelling carriage sent to fetch them.
Years rolled on, and the child born in the forest hadreached the age of twenty-one. He was a handsome, manly youth, and skilled in all athletic exercises. About this time, the family of his adopted mother was invited to be present at a great religious ceremony in an abbey upon the borders of a neighboring kingdom. Among the many attendants of the nobles summoned for the occasion, was the real mother, who came dressed in deep mourning and wearing a veil over her face; and one of the guests was the wicked old knight, her father. The abbot of the monastery threw open the doors of the chapel, that had long been sealed, and all flocked into it. There, in the centre, stood a bier covered with cloth of gold and surrounded by blazing wax-lights, while about it knelt an hundred priests, at prayer. After a mass had been sung, the abbot announced that in yonder bier lay the remains of the late king, their master, who, as all his faithful subjects knew, was foully murdered twenty-one years before; and that, by the terms of the king's will, found some time after his death, the throne rightfully belonged to a lady who had been married in secret by their sovereign, and was by him commended to their truest love and honor. "For many long years," added the good abbot, "we have sought vainly for the widow of ourlamented ruler; not the faintest trace of her has ever been found, and we have resolved to meet here and choose to-day a successor to our king."
"Here is a worthy successor to your king!" cried a voice from the throng; and the unfortunate queen, throwing back her veil, pointed to her astonished son. "Behold the rightful heir! Who dares to say that he is not the image of his father?Iam the queen you have so long sought, and this youth is, unknown to himself, my son. In proof of it, here is the marriage ring given me by the king."
"And in proof of it," exclaimed a venerable priest, coming forward, "I attest thatIperformed the marriage ceremony between our king and this poor lady. Her appearance and her claim remove the seal from my promise of secresy, and I unhesitatingly declare this youth to be our lawful sovereign."
All eyes turned upon the young man, and all tongues proclaimed his marvellous resemblance to the king. The abbot knelt at the young man's feet and offered him a golden crown carried on a velvet cushion. Loud cries of joy and cheers filled the air, when suddenly the unfortunate queen was seen to totter toward the bier of her husband.
"I am glad to die on this spot," she said, snatching up the sword that lay upon the tomb and placing it in her son's hand; then, bidding him avenge the sad fate of his parents, she immediately expired. At the same moment, a white-haired knight tried to steal away from the church; but when the ancient priest perceived him, the fugitive was denounced as the murderer of their king. Seized by the populace, the wretched old miser was hurried to instant death; his grandson was carried in triumph to the palace, and there installed as king.
The new monarch reigned long and wisely—an example for all future sovereigns.
(From Ellis' Abstract of Copy in Garrick Collection.)
COUNTPrinsamour, an independent sovereign of Artois, was famed for his skill in training young men in the courtesy and accomplishments of chivalry. His court was the resort of all youths who wished to excel in those important arts. His daughter Crystabell, the heiress of Count Prinsamour's dominions, was very beautiful and accomplished, and her father designed to marry her to some powerful monarch. The tournaments instituted at his court were in her honor, and for her sake all the hotheaded young knights in training broke their lances.
Crystabell herself had no desire to leave her own country to become the wife of a foreign monarch. She loved the free and stirring air around her father'scastle, and had, unknown to the count, fallen in love with a young knight, Sir Eglamour, who was ever victorious in the numerous tournaments ridden in her name.
Eglamour, on his side, looked up to the young countess as to a star. He never dreamed of winning her love, because he was only a knight, without wealth or lands, depending upon his sword alone to make his way through life. At last, one day, something that Crystabell said made him think that she cared for him more than for the rest of her followers. Sorely troubled, and yet strangely happy, the young man wandered off to think it over. He finally resolved to ask advice of the chamberlain, who had always stood his friend. That personage counselled him to give up all thoughts of the countess, who, he said, was destined by her father to be the bride of a rich and great king. Eglamour sighed, and admitted that his friend was right. But that night, in the solitude of his chamber, he addressed a prayer to God:
"Lord," he said, "grant me a boon,As thou on rood me bought!The erle's daughter, fair and free,That she may my wife be!For she is most in my thought:That I may wed her to my wife,And in joy to lead our life!From care then were I brought."
"Lord," he said, "grant me a boon,As thou on rood me bought!The erle's daughter, fair and free,That she may my wife be!
For she is most in my thought:That I may wed her to my wife,And in joy to lead our life!From care then were I brought."
In those days a true knight thought it no shame to his manhood to take the burden of his every-day cares and lay it in all simplicity at the feet of his Maker. When his devotions were at an end, Sir Eglamour slept soundly, and awoke in better heart.
After a while, Sir Eglamour fell ill, and the count desired his daughter, who was skilled in medicine, as were all great ladies of the time, to attend upon the invalid. Crystabell, followed by her damsels, went at once into the sick-room. She found Sir Eglamour feverish and unhappy, and on bending down to minister to him, his pulse throbbed so violently at her touch, that the tears of sympathy came into her eyes. "I have betrayed my love," thought Sir Eglamour; but what was his happiness when the lady bent down to kiss his lips, confessing that the chamberlain had told her what was the real cause of his malady; and, to comfort Eglamour, she bid him live for her sake.
Eglamour & Crystabell.Eglamour & Crystabell.
Eglamour & Crystabell.
After this, Eglamour got well rapidly; but he felt it right and honorable to inform the count, at once, howmatters stood between the two young people. The count, who, although a brave knight, was largely governed by selfish ambition, refused Sir Eglamour with scorn. Then, after thinking a while, he told the youth that he would only bestow his daughter upon the champion who might accomplish three perilous feats of arms, each one of which would expose the candidate to the most imminent danger; and that the victor should not only receive the hand of Crystabell, but in time inherit the whole territory of Artois.
Overjoyed, Sir Eglamour accepted the conditions without delay. He declared he was ready to set off that day or the next upon the enterprise. He did not suspect the count's real purpose in setting him this task, which was to destroy the rash knight who presumed to love his daughter.
"At a little distance to the westward," said the count, "there is a forest of noble trees belonging to a most terrible giant, named Maroke. In a part of the forest shut off for the giant's own hunting ground, are three deer, famed for their size and speed. To hunt one of these celebrated animals is, of course, to challenge an encounter with their owner. Consider whether you have courage enough for such an enterprise."
Sir Eglamour smiled, promised to kill the giant, and hurried off to tell his lady-love. Crystabell trembled and wept, but bid her lover God-speed. She told him that no man ever set forth upon a more arduous journey in a Christian country, but that she gloried in his brave spirit. She gave him a good greyhound, from whom no deer that ever ran had yet escaped—also a sword, once found in the sea, the only one of the kind in the world, and which could carve in two any helmet of steel or iron. Eglamour kissed her farewell, as he received these gifts, and set out with a light heart.
Reaching the giant's park, he followed the wall to a massive gate, burst it open, and entered the wood. This forest was of huge cypress trees, and Eglamour had the luck soon to come upon the three deer grazing quietly. They were the most immense creatures he had ever seen; and singling out the largest, he attacked it. With the help of the dun greyhound, he brought the stag to earth, and set to work to carve his spoil. Laden with venison, he then approached the giant's castle, blowing his horn at intervals; and, when arrived there, he sounded a wild and merry blast, which roused Maroke from sleep and brought him in fury to the gate.
Sir Eglamour politely asked the monster to give him leave to pass through the grounds with his prey.The giant, gnashing his teeth in rage, answered by aiming a blow with his club at the saucy young knight's head. Sir Eglamour, at the same moment, drew Crystabell's sword, which shone so brightly as to dazzle the eyes of Maroke, striking him stone-blind where he stood. Then followed a mighty combat. Blind as the giant was, he foughtwell and skilfully for three entire days. At the end of the third day, Sir Eglamour rallied all his strength and drove his sword into the giant's heart, a thrust which sent Maroke crashing like a forest tree to earth.Sir Eglamour, having cut off his enemy's head, carried it, together with the slaughtered stag, back to the court of his sovereign. The count received him ruefully; but fair Crystabell laughed and rejoiced, while the courtiers covered their champion with praises. After Eglamour was rested and refreshed, the count hurried him off again. This time he was to journey to the distant land of Satyn, where his task was to fetch away the head of a prodigious boar, the terror of that ill-fated country, half of whose inhabitants the creature had already eaten up.To reach the land of Satyn, Sir Eglamour had to travel a fortnight by sea, a fortnight by land. Arriving there at nightfall, he thought it prudent to spend the night in resting on the borders of the forest. At sunrise next day he approached the den of the horrible boar, who had just come back from taking his morning drink in the sea. The animal was a terror to look upon, having flaming eyes and tusks a yard long. He lay gnawing some human bones and growling frightfully,surrounded by dead bodies, many of which were clad in knightly armor. At once Sir Eglamour dashed at him with a shout—"For God and Crystabell!" The boar whetted his long tusks and set upon his adversary, killing at the first blow Sir Eglamour's noble horse, his own tough hide remaining unhurt by the spear. Sir Eglamour now had recourse to his magic sword, and found to his joy that, wherever he struck, the boar's hide was cut; although the length of the animal's tusks made it difficult to close with him. This combat, like that with the giant, lasted three days, and at the end Sir Eglamour, by a sudden swift movement, made a terrible blow at the creature's neck, severing the head from his body.Long before the close of this memorable fight, the boar's snorts of rage and defiance had attracted to the spot the King of Satyn and fifteen of his knights, who happened to be hunting in the forest. When the boar dropped dead, Sir Eglamour fell over him, and lay there completely exhausted. The king and his men drew near, showered compliments on the strange knight's bravery, and told him that the wicked beast of whom he had rid them had sometimes destroyed as many as forty men in one day.The king ordered a cloth to be laid upon the grass, and Sir Eglamour was regaled with venison and rich wine, which brought strength back to his arm and hope to his heart. The king's men then attempted to cut up the boar, but failed, owing to the toughness of his hide. The sword of Sir Eglamour was put into requisition, and in a moment the beast was cleft asunder along the back bone. The meat was distributed among the knights and men-at-arms, Sir Eglamour claiming the head alone. The King of Satyn afterward ordered for the champion a warm bath of certain sweet-scented herbs that healed his wounds and in which he rested pleasantly till break of day. Then the party went on to the king's palace, where Sir Eglamour was asked to stay and recover from his fatigue.Now it happened that the boar just slain was an intimate friend of Manas, a huge and frightful giant, own brother to Maroke. Manas had fallen in love with the King of Satyn's daughter, and had vowed to carry her off. When Manas came prowling around the castle that evening, and beheld on the point of a spear over the gateway the head of his friend the boar, he flew into an awful passion, foaming at the mouth; and as he looked on that head—
Sir Eglamour politely asked the monster to give him leave to pass through the grounds with his prey.
The giant, gnashing his teeth in rage, answered by aiming a blow with his club at the saucy young knight's head. Sir Eglamour, at the same moment, drew Crystabell's sword, which shone so brightly as to dazzle the eyes of Maroke, striking him stone-blind where he stood. Then followed a mighty combat. Blind as the giant was, he foughtwell and skilfully for three entire days. At the end of the third day, Sir Eglamour rallied all his strength and drove his sword into the giant's heart, a thrust which sent Maroke crashing like a forest tree to earth.
Sir Eglamour, having cut off his enemy's head, carried it, together with the slaughtered stag, back to the court of his sovereign. The count received him ruefully; but fair Crystabell laughed and rejoiced, while the courtiers covered their champion with praises. After Eglamour was rested and refreshed, the count hurried him off again. This time he was to journey to the distant land of Satyn, where his task was to fetch away the head of a prodigious boar, the terror of that ill-fated country, half of whose inhabitants the creature had already eaten up.
To reach the land of Satyn, Sir Eglamour had to travel a fortnight by sea, a fortnight by land. Arriving there at nightfall, he thought it prudent to spend the night in resting on the borders of the forest. At sunrise next day he approached the den of the horrible boar, who had just come back from taking his morning drink in the sea. The animal was a terror to look upon, having flaming eyes and tusks a yard long. He lay gnawing some human bones and growling frightfully,surrounded by dead bodies, many of which were clad in knightly armor. At once Sir Eglamour dashed at him with a shout—"For God and Crystabell!" The boar whetted his long tusks and set upon his adversary, killing at the first blow Sir Eglamour's noble horse, his own tough hide remaining unhurt by the spear. Sir Eglamour now had recourse to his magic sword, and found to his joy that, wherever he struck, the boar's hide was cut; although the length of the animal's tusks made it difficult to close with him. This combat, like that with the giant, lasted three days, and at the end Sir Eglamour, by a sudden swift movement, made a terrible blow at the creature's neck, severing the head from his body.
Long before the close of this memorable fight, the boar's snorts of rage and defiance had attracted to the spot the King of Satyn and fifteen of his knights, who happened to be hunting in the forest. When the boar dropped dead, Sir Eglamour fell over him, and lay there completely exhausted. The king and his men drew near, showered compliments on the strange knight's bravery, and told him that the wicked beast of whom he had rid them had sometimes destroyed as many as forty men in one day.
The king ordered a cloth to be laid upon the grass, and Sir Eglamour was regaled with venison and rich wine, which brought strength back to his arm and hope to his heart. The king's men then attempted to cut up the boar, but failed, owing to the toughness of his hide. The sword of Sir Eglamour was put into requisition, and in a moment the beast was cleft asunder along the back bone. The meat was distributed among the knights and men-at-arms, Sir Eglamour claiming the head alone. The King of Satyn afterward ordered for the champion a warm bath of certain sweet-scented herbs that healed his wounds and in which he rested pleasantly till break of day. Then the party went on to the king's palace, where Sir Eglamour was asked to stay and recover from his fatigue.
Now it happened that the boar just slain was an intimate friend of Manas, a huge and frightful giant, own brother to Maroke. Manas had fallen in love with the King of Satyn's daughter, and had vowed to carry her off. When Manas came prowling around the castle that evening, and beheld on the point of a spear over the gateway the head of his friend the boar, he flew into an awful passion, foaming at the mouth; and as he looked on that head—
"Alas!" he cried, "art thou dead?My trust was all in thee!Now, by the law that I live in,My little speckled hoglin,Dear bought shall thy death be!"
"Alas!" he cried, "art thou dead?My trust was all in thee!Now, by the law that I live in,My little speckled hoglin,Dear bought shall thy death be!"
Manas beat upon the door and walls of the castle in a fury, demanding the surrender of the murderer of his dear little speckled hoglin. Presently, Sir Eglamour,fully armed and equipped, mounted on a fiery courser, and with lance in rest, attacked the giant at full speed.
Manas resisted vigorously, and in an instant overthrew man and horse. The king, the princess, and the court, who had assembled on the walls of the castle, began to tremble for the safety of their champion. But Sir Eglamour, lightly springing to his feet, drew his invincible sword, and closing with the giant, cut off his right arm. The monster roared with pain, but continued to fight, though yelling at intervals as loudly as ever, till near sunset, when the patient knight, who had hitherto suffered him to exhaust himself by his own efforts, suddenly rushed forward and completed the victory! The boar and Manas being dead, Eglamour now took his leave of the grateful King of Satyn and his court, who rejoiced greatly over the death of their two adversaries. The heads of the boar and the giant Manas were carefully packed up, and in due time Eglamour laid them at the feet of his faithful Crystabell.
Count Prinsamour, secretly disgusted at his knight's success, at once sent him off on another enterprise, more dangerous than the two preceding ones. Eglamour and Crystabell, now seeing that the false countwas determined to prevent their marriage, parted from each other with many tears. But Crystabell vowed to marry him, with or without her father's leave, so soon as he should return, if ever he did, from the present journey.
The third mission was to kill a tremendous dragon, at that time desolating the country around the gates of Rome. After sundry adventures by the way, Eglamour encountered the beast, and fought it long and valiantly. He succeeded in cutting off its wings, tail, and head; but at last he fell himself, exhausted by his wounds and poisoned by the dragon's sting, and was carried from the field.
When Crystabell heard that her brave lover was lying at the point of death in Rome, she left her father and journeyed to the knight's bedside, where, to make him happy before he died, she consented to marry him on the spot.
Eglamour rallied under the care of his beloved Crystabell; but, after they had spent some happy months together, Count Prinsamour found out his daughter's place of retreat, and carried her off from her husband, abusing him as a vile thief and imposter.
Crystabell cried and lamented continually for her lost husband. After a while, a son was born to her,which made the count more angry than before. He took the unfortunate mother and child, put them, without food, into an open boat, and set them adrift upon the sea. The boat drifted for five days, and at last reached the shores of a country whose king proved to be the brother of Crystabell's own mother. He took the wayfarers under his care, and devoted himself to bringing up the boy, named Degrabell, to be a valiant knight.
After a time, Eglamour travelled to Artois, and entering the count's hall by force, confronted his cruel father-in-law in the presence of all the knights and squires. He had heard of the fate of his wife and child, and his wrath was terrible to see. He cast the dragon's head, wings, and tail before the count, reminded him that his daughter had been fairly won, and called down God's judgment upon the unnatural father who had bereaved Eglamour of all he held dear in life. The count retreated to his strongest citadel in fear before the righteous anger of this mighty champion; but Eglamour seized the property of his late master, divided it among the count's worthy and needy subjects, and ordering masses to be sung in all the churches for the soul of his lost Crystabell, departedfor the Holy Land, where, during many years, he distinguished himself both in battle and in tournament against the Saracens.
When her son, Sir Degrabell, had reached the age of eighteen, Crystabell was more beautiful than ever, and the king, her uncle, resolved to marry her to some knight who might make happy the remainder of her days. Crystabell, who still cherished the memory of her lost Sir Eglamour, begged her son to help her in this emergency. Sir Degrabell went to the king and insisted that all of the knights aspiring to his mother's hand should first meet him in the lists, and that only the one who should overthrow him might claim the princess as a wife.
The king smiled at the pretentions of this beardless youth, and gave his consent. A tournament was announced, and to it came from all parts of the country persons of high rank seeking adventure. Knight after knight presented himself in the lists, and was swiftly unhorsed by the gallant Degrabell. At length the boy, flushed with conquest, turned to a stranger of distinguished appearance who stood gazing at the spectacle, without seeming to take any great interest in it, and asked if he too had a mind to break a lance.The stranger knight hesitated, then said that, to amuse himself, he would do so. Mounting his horse, he rode with the speed of a lightning flash against Degrabell, who was borne to the earth on the spot. Princess Crystabell had been watching the tourney with pride, but screamed aloud at her son's overthrow, and rushed into the arena, throwing herself on her knees before the stranger and imploring him to spare her boy. Trembling, she looked upon the victor's shield, and there saw depicted a rude device of a golden boat containing a lady and a child about to perish in the waves.
On his side, the knight gazed at the lady in trembling, then bending his knee before her, revealed himself the long-lost Eglamour. Crystabell would have swooned for joy, had not her husband caught her in his arms. Eglamour, equally astonished and delighted, had still in store for him the rapture of recognizing in his brave young antagonist the son so worthy of his sire.
Sir Eglamour and Lady Crystabell, thus happily reunited, lived together for the remainder of their days in prosperity. Degrabell became a famous champion. The old Count Prinsamour broke his neck by falling from his tower; and so, my tale is told!