The Project Gutenberg EBook of Stories from the Faerie Queen, by
Edmund Spenser and Jeanie Lang
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Stories from the Faerie Queen
Author: Edmund Spenser
Jeanie Lang
Illustrator: Rose Le Quesne
Release Date: November 11, 2012 [EBook #41350]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES FROM THE FAERIE QUEEN ***
Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive.)
TOLD TO THE CHILDREN SERIES
EDITED BY LOUEY CHISHOLM
THE FAERIE QUEEN
[Illustration: I should like the crystal ball to shew me what my husband
will be like (page 33)]
STORIES FROM
The Faerie Queen
TOLD TO THE CHILDREN BY
JEANIE LANG
WITH PICTURES BY
ROSE LE QUESNE
[Illustration]
LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK, LTD.
NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
TO DIANA
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, LTD.
ABOUT THE FAERIE QUEEN
More than three hundred years ago there lived in England a poet named
Edmund Spenser. He was brave and true and gentle, and he loved all that
was beautiful and good.
Edmund Spenser wrote many poems, and the most beautiful of all is the one
called 'The Faerie Queen.' He loved so dearly all things that are
beautiful and all things that are good, that his eyes could see Fairyland
more clearly than the eyes of other men ever could.
There are many, many stories in 'The Faerie Queen,' and out of them all I
have told you only eight. Some day you will read the others for yourself.
In this little book Miss Rose Le Quesne has made one pretty picture for
each story. But when you are old enough to read for yourself 'The Faerie
Queen' that Edmund Spenser wrote, you will find that there is a picture on
every page.
JEANIE LANG.
LIST OF STORIES
Page
Una and the Lion, 1
St. George and the Dragon, 15
Britomart and the Magic Mirror, 32
The Quest of Sir Guyon, 45
Pastorella, 60
Cambell and Triamond, 79
Marinell, the Sea-Nymph's Son, 89
Florimell and the Witch, 101
LIST OF PICTURES
BRITOMART AND THE MAGIC MIRROR.
'I should like the crystal ball to show me what
my husband will be like, _Frontispiece_
At page
UNA AND THE LION.
He followed her like a faithful dog, 6
ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON.
The dragon was dead, 30
THE QUEST OF SIR GUYON.
Great heaps of gold lay about him on every side, 48
PASTORELLA.
In the middle of the ring of girls sat Pastorella, 64
CAMBELL AND TRIAMOND.
She asked the Fates to let her sons have long, long lives, 80
MARINELL, THE SEA-NYMPH'S SON.
But the knight was Britomart, the fair lady with a man's
armour and a man's heart, 92
FLORIMELL AND THE WITCH.
Florimell's golden hair flew behind her, 102
I
UNA AND THE LION
Once upon a time, in a country not far from Fairyland, there lived a king
and queen and their daughter, whose name was Una.
Una was one of the most beautiful princesses that ever were seen, and she
was as good as she was beautiful.
She and her father and mother loved each other very dearly, and they were
very happy together, until a dreadful thing happened in their kingdom and
took all their happiness away.
A hideous dragon came from another country, and killed men and women and
little children. With its fiery breath it turned the trees and grass and
flowers into black ashes, and it slew everybody that it came across.
It would have killed Una's father and mother too, but they and some of
their servants shut themselves up in a tower made of brass. The dragon
tried very hard to get in and eat them up, but it could not break into a
tower so strong.
For seven years the king and queen hid in their tower, while the dragon
lay outside.
Many brave knights came and fought with the horrible monster and tried to
save the king and queen. But the dragon was stronger than all the knights,
and killed every one of them.
At last Una made up her mind to ride to Fairyland and ask the Queen of the
Fairies to send one of her knights to kill the dragon.
Una took no soldiers nor servants with her, but a dwarf carried for her
the food and clothes she needed, and she rode on a little white ass.
Her dress was of white, but she covered it and her beautiful, shining,
golden hair up with a black cloak to show that she felt sad. Her lovely
face was very sorrowful, for she was so unhappy at the cruel things the
dragon had done, and the danger her dear father and mother were in.
Una safely got to the court of the Faerie Queen, and a young knight,
fearless and faithful and true, offered to come back with her to kill the
dragon.
His name was George, but on the breast of his silver armour, and on his
silver shield, a red cross was painted. So people called him the Red Cross
Knight.
The sun shone bright, and the birds sang sweetly, as Una and her knight
rode away through the woods that lay between her father's kingdom and the
lands of the Faerie Queen.
The knight's great war-horse pranced and champed at its bit, and Una's
little donkey put down its dainty feet gently on the grass and wondered at
the great big horse and his jingling harness as they went along side by
side.
Before they had gone very far a storm came on. The sky grew dark and rain
fell heavily, and they would have been drenched had they not found shelter
in a thick wood. There were wide paths in this wood, and tall trees whose
leafy branches grew so close that no rain could come through.
It was such a beautiful wood, and they were so happy talking together and
listening to the birds' sweet song, that they rode along without noticing
where they went.
So when the rain stopped and they wished to get back to the open road,
they could not find the way. On and on they went, until they came to the
mouth of a great dark cave.
The knight sprang from his horse, and giving his spear to the dwarf to
hold, went forward to see what might be hidden in the darkness.
'Do not be so rash!' cried Una; 'I know that this is a terribly dangerous
place, and that a dreadful monster stays in that black den!'
The frightened dwarf also begged him to come away, but the knight said, 'I
should be ashamed to come back. If one is good, one need have no fear of
the darkness.'
So into the darkness he went, and in the faint light that came from his
shining armour he saw a hideous monster. It had a great ugly head and a
long speckled tail like a serpent's, and it rushed at the knight, roaring
furiously. He struck at it with his sword, but it wound its horrible tail
around him, until he was nearly crushed to death.
Una called to him not to fear, but to strike the monster bravely. And he,
smiting it with all his might, cut off its head.
Then Una and he rode joyfully onwards, and, as evening fell, they found a
way out of the wood. On the road they met an old man who looked kind and
good. He asked them to stay all night in his cottage in a little valley
near at hand, and they gladly went.
This old man was a wicked magician, and all he wanted was to do them harm.
When they had lain down to rest, he began to work his magic on them. So
well did he do it, that he made the Red Cross Knight believe that Una was
very false and wicked, and that the best thing he could do was to go away
from her. Very early in the morning the knight made the dwarf saddle his
horse, and they went off together and left Una asleep in the house of the
wicked magician.
When she awoke and found them gone, Una could only weep bitterly at what
seemed to her their cruelty.
She rode after them as quickly as she could, but her little donkey could
only go slowly, and in his anger and sorrow the knight had made his horse
gallop so fast that she had no chance of overtaking them.
Day after day, up hill and down dale, in woods and on lonely moors, she
sought her knight. And her heart was very sad, because he whom she loved
had left her so ungently.
One day when she was very tired she lay down to rest under the trees in a
thick wood. She took off her black cloak, and her beautiful golden hair
fell loosely round her face. Her face was so fair and so full of goodness
that it seemed to make sunshine in the shady place.
Suddenly there rushed at her from out of the wood a furious lion. He was
hunting for something to kill and eat, and when he saw Una he ran at her
greedily, with hungry gaping jaws.
But when it had looked at her lovely face, instead of tearing her in
pieces it gently licked her little white hands and feet. And Una's sad
heart was so grateful to the noble beast that her tears dropped on him as
he did it.
The lion would not leave her. He kept watch while she slept, and when she
was awake he followed her like a faithful dog.
[Illustration: He followed her like a faithful dog (page 6)]
Together they wandered on, but never met any one that Una could ask if he
had seen the Red Cross Knight.
At last, one evening, they saw a young woman walking up a steep mountain
path, and carrying a pot of water on her back. Una called to her, but when
the woman looked round and saw a lovely lady and a lion, she got such a
fright that she threw down the pot and ran for her life. Her old mother
was blind, and they lived in a hut on the mountain, and when she got there
she rushed in and shut the door.
Una and the lion followed her, and the lion, with one blow from his strong
paw, drove the door in.
The two women were hiding in a dark corner, half-dead from fear. Una tried
to comfort them, and asked them if she and her lion might shelter there
for the night. When darkness came she lay down, very tired, to sleep,
while her lion lay and watched at her feet.
In the middle of the night a knock came to the door. It was a wicked
robber, who used to bring the things he stole and give them to those two
bad women. The women were so afraid of the lion that they dared not come
out of their hiding-place. So the thief, in a rage, burst the door open,
and when he did this, the lion rushed at him and tore him in pieces.
Next morning Una rose early and went away with the lion.
When she had gone, the women came out, and when they saw the robber's dead
body, they were filled with rage at Una and her lion. They ran after her,
calling her bad names, but they could not overtake her.
As they were going home they met the wicked magician. They told him about
Una, and he rode quickly after her. By his magic he made himself armour
the same as that of the Red Cross Knight, and when Una saw him she thought
it was her own true knight come back to her at last. He spoke to her as if
he was really her knight, and her heart was filled with gladness.
But she was not the only one who thought that the wicked magician was the
Red Cross Knight. Sansloy, a rough and wicked man, whose brother had been
killed in a fight with the Knight of the Red Cross, came riding along and
met them. When he saw the red cross on the magician's breast he rode at
him furiously.
The old magician had to fight, whether he wanted to or not, and Sansloy
fought so fiercely that he wounded him and cast him bleeding on the
ground. Then Sansloy dragged off his helmet and was going to kill him,
when he found, instead of the Red Cross Knight's handsome young face, the
wicked old face and grey hair of the magician.
Sansloy was afraid of the magician, so he drew back and did not hurt him
more. But when he saw how beautiful Una was, he roughly dragged her off
her ass, and made up his mind to take her away with him and make her his
wife.
When the lion saw the knight roughly take hold of Una, he made a fierce
rush at him, and would have torn him in pieces; but Sansloy beat the lion
back with his shield, and when the lion would have torn the shield from
him, he drove his sword deep into the lion's faithful heart. With a great
roar the noble beast fell dead, and Sansloy threw Una before him on his
horse and galloped away with her. She wept and sobbed and begged him to
let her go, but Sansloy would not listen. And it seemed as if Una had no
friend left, or, at least, no friend that could help her. For the little
white donkey trotted after her, afraid of nothing except to be left alone
without his mistress.
The darkness fell, and the stars that came out looked down like weeping
eyes on Una's sorrow and helplessness.
Sansloy stopped his horse at last and lifted Una down. When she shrank
from him in fear, he was so rough that she screamed for help until the
woods rang and echoed her screams.
Now in the woods there lived wild people, some of whom were more like
beasts than men and women. They were dancing merrily in the starlight when
they heard Una's cries, and they stopped their dance and ran to see what
was wrong.
When Sansloy saw them, with their rough long hair and hairy legs and arms
and strange wild faces, he was so frightened that he jumped on his horse
and galloped away.
But the wild people of the woods were more gentle than the cowardly
knight. When they saw Una, so beautiful and so frightened and so sad, they
smiled at her to show her that they meant to be kind. Then they knelt
before her to show her that they would obey her, and gently kissed her
feet.
So Una was no longer afraid, and when the wild people saw that she trusted
them, they were so glad that they jumped and danced and sang for joy. They
broke off green branches and strewed them before her as she walked, and
they crowned her with leaves to show that she was their queen. And so they
led her home to their chief, and he and the beautiful nymphs of the wood
all welcomed her with gladness.
For a long time Una lived with them and was their queen, but at last a
brave knight came that way. His father had been a wild man of the woods,
but his mother was a gentle lady. He was brave and bold as his father had
been. When he was a little boy and lived with the wild people, he used to
steal the baby lions from their mothers just for fun, and drive panthers,
and antelopes, and wild boars, and tigers and wolves with bits and
bridles, as if they were playing at horses. But he was gentle like his
mother, although he was so fearless. And when Una told him the story of
the Red Cross Knight and the lion, and of all her adventures, his heart
was filled with pity. He vowed to help her to escape, and to try to find
the Red Cross Knight. So one day he and she ran away, and by night had got
far out of reach of the wild men of the woods.
When the wicked magician knew of Una's escape, he dressed himself up like
a pilgrim and came to meet her and the brave knight of the forest.
'Have you seen, or have you heard anything about my true knight, who bears
a red cross on his breast?' asked Una of the old man.
'Ah yes,' said the magician, 'I have seen him both living and dead. To-day
I saw a terrible fight between him and another knight, and the other
knight killed him.'
When Una heard this cruel lie she fell down in a faint. The brave young
knight lifted her up and gently tried to comfort her.
'Where is this man who has slain the Red Cross Knight, and taken from us
all our joy?' he asked of the false pilgrim.
'He is near here now,' said the magician. 'I left him at a fountain,
washing his wounds.'
Off hurried the knight, so fast that Una could not keep up with him, and
sure enough, at a fountain they found a knight sitting. It was the wicked
Sansloy who had killed Una's lion and carried her away.
The brave knight rushed up to him with his drawn sword.
'You have slain the Red Cross Knight,' he said; 'come and fight and be
punished for your evil deed.'
'I never slew the Red Cross Knight,' said Sansloy, in a great rage. 'Your
enemies have sent you to me to be killed.'
Then, like two wild beasts, they fought, only resting sometimes for a
moment that they might rush at each other again with the more strength and
fury.
Blood poured from their wounds, the earth was trampled by their feet, and
the sound of their fierce blows rang through the air.
Una was so terrified at the dreadful sight that she ran away and left them
fighting furiously.
Before she had gone far she saw a little figure running through the woods
towards her. It was her own dwarf, and his woful face told her that some
evil thing had happened to the Red Cross Knight.
The knight had had many adventures since he left her in the magician's
hut, and at last a giant had caught him, and kept him a prisoner in a
dreary dungeon. The dwarf had run away, lest the giant should kill him.
Una loved the Red Cross Knight so much that her heart almost broke when
she heard the dwarf's story. But she made up her mind to find her knight
and free him. So on she went, up hill and down dale, beaten by driving
rain and buffeted by bitter winds.
At last, by good chance, she met a knight and his squire. This knight was
the good Prince Arthur, of all the knights of the Faerie Queen the bravest
and the best. To him she told her sorrowful tale.
'Be of good cheer and take comfort,' said the good prince. 'I will never
leave you until I have freed the Red Cross Knight.'
And the prince kept his promise.
The story of St. George and the Dragon will tell you how Una and her
knight met together again and were married, and forgot their past sorrows
in their great happiness.
II
ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON
Long, long ago, before the things that happened were written down in
history books, a spiteful fairy came into the castle of an English king.
She saw a beautiful baby-boy, the king's little son, lying asleep, and,
out of mischief, she ran away with him and left her own ugly little fairy
baby there instead.
But when she had stolen the baby, she could not be troubled to take care
of him. So she laid him down in the furrow of a ploughed field.
Soon a ploughman, with his horses, came that way. He was a kind man, and
he lifted the baby up off the cold brown earth and carried him home to his
cottage. He called him Georgos, and brought him up as if he were his own
boy.
When Georgos was a big boy he did not care to be a ploughman. He wished to
be a knight and fight for people who were not as strong as he was. So he
went to the court of the Faerie Queen, and she took him for one of her
knights. She called him George, and gave him armour all shining with
silver and with a red cross on his shield and on his breast.
You have heard the story of Una, so you know that it was George of the Red
Cross who left the fairy court to fight for her and to be her knight.
There was no sadder knight to be found in all Fairyland than George of the
Red Cross, after the wicked magician had made him think that Una was false
and bad. With a heavy heart he rode away from the magician's cottage in
the grey dawn, with the dwarf sadly following him.
As he went through the woods he met a knight riding with a beautiful lady
in red robes that sparkled with jewels. The lady's horse was all decked
out with gold, and from its bridle hung golden bells.
Although she was so beautiful, she was really a wicked witch, who was
never so happy as when she was making men fight and kill each other.
When she saw George coming, she said to the knight with whom she rode,
'Here comes a knight! you must fight with him.'
So the knight rode furiously at George, and George met him as fiercely,
and both their spears splintered as they crashed against each other. Then,
with their swords they cut and thrust and hacked. The knight cut through a
piece of George's helmet by the fury of one blow, but George gave him such
a stroke in return, that his sword went through the steel helmet right
into the knight's head, and he fell dead.
When the witch saw him fall, she galloped away, screaming with fear.
George rode after her and begged her not to be afraid, but the witch
pretended to cry bitterly. She told him she did not cry for sorrow that
the knight was dead, but only because she was frightened. She said that
the knight who lay there had wished to marry her, but that she did not
love him, and liked George much better.
The witch looked so beautiful, with her red robes and splendid jewels, and
pretended so well to be simple and good, that George believed all that she
said.
'Do not be afraid,' he said, 'I will take care of you, and be your
friend.'
So he did not think of Una any more, but rode away happily with the witch,
who said her name was Fidessa.
In the middle of the day, when the sun had grown very hot, they rested in
the shade of two great trees.
The spreading branches of the trees were overgrown with grey moss, and
their green leaves were never still, but whispered and trembled as if the
wind was blowing on them. George thought he would make a garland of these
fresh leaves to put on Fidessa's dark hair. He plucked a little branch,
and, as he broke it, red drops of blood trickled down from the place where
it was broken.
Then a sad voice spoke out of the tree, and told him that the trees were
not really trees, but a knight and a lady, who had been bewitched by the
magic of a wicked witch.
The witch who had done it was Fidessa, and when Fidessa heard the tree
speak, she was afraid that George would find her out. But George was too
simple and too true to think that beautiful Fidessa could be so wicked. He
was very sorry for having hurt the tree-man, and with some earth plastered
up the place that bled.
Then he and Fidessa hurried away from the place of the shivering trees.
When they had ridden for a long time they came to a gorgeous palace where
only bad people stayed. Fidessa made George come with her into the
palace, and while they stayed there she got some of the wicked knights of
the palace to fight with George and try to kill him. But George was braver
and stronger than any of these knights, and instead of their killing him,
he killed them.
One day Fidessa went from home, and, while she was away, Una's dwarf, who
had never left George, went wandering through the palace.
In a dark and horrible dungeon he found many knights, and kings, and
ladies and princes shut up as prisoners.
The dwarf ran and told George, and the Red Cross Knight, fearing that he
also would be made a prisoner and cast into the dungeon if he stayed
longer in the enchanted palace, rode away. The wounds he had got in his
last fight were still unhealed, so that he could not go fast.
When Fidessa got back and found him gone, she rode after him as fast as
ever she could.
When she found him he was resting, with his armour off, on the mossy grass
by the side of a sparkling fountain. He was peacefully listening to the
sweet song of birds, and to the tinkling water, when Fidessa's red robes
showed through the trees.
She talked to him so cunningly that soon she persuaded him to think that
she loved him very much and meant him nothing but kindness.
Now the witch knew that the water of the fountain was magic water, and if
any one drank it all his strength would leave him. So she made George lie
down on the sandy gravel and drink. In one minute his strength all went
from him and he was no stronger than a tiny boy.
No sooner had this happened than there walked out from amongst the trees
an enormous ugly giant. In his hand, for a club, he carried a big oak-tree
that he had pulled out of the earth by the roots. When he saw George he
rushed at him like an earthquake, and smote him such a mighty blow that
George fell fainting to the ground. Then the giant picked him up as if he
had been a helpless little baby, and carried him away, and threw him into
the darkest dungeon of his castle in the woods.
Una's dwarf, who had hidden in the bushes and seen all that happened, ran
away, lest the giant should kill him.
But Fidessa, the wicked witch, made friends with the giant, and he made
her his wife.
He gave her a robe of purple and gold to wear, and put a splendid gold
crown on her head. And to make people more afraid of her than they were
already, he gave her a horrible beast with seven heads and a long scaly
tail of brass to ride on.
For months and months George was a prisoner in the gloomy dungeon. The
light never came into it, nor any air. He was chained with heavy iron
bands, and was given scarcely anything to eat or to drink. His face grew
white and thin, and his eyes grew hollow. His strong arms became only skin
and bone, and his legs were so feeble that he could not stand. He looked
more like a shadow than a man.
One day, as he lay on the floor of the dungeon, feebly moaning and longing
to die, the door burst open.
A knight in shining armour of diamonds and gold stood before him, and
before George could speak to him, there ran into the dreary cell, like a
sunbeam in the dark, his own beautiful Una.
Una nearly cried for joy at seeing her knight again, and for sorrow
because he looked so terribly ill.
She told him that Prince Arthur, the knight who had saved him, had cut off
the giant's head, and slain the seven-headed monster, and made Fidessa
prisoner.
Then Prince Arthur tore off Fidessa's robe of purple and gold, and her
golden crown and all her sparkling jewels. And all her beauty faded away,
and she looked like the hideous, wicked old witch that she really was.
George shrank away from her in horror, and wondered how she could ever
have made him forget Una, or have made him think that she herself was good
and beautiful.
And Fidessa, frightened at being found out, ran away and hid herself in a
dark cave in the lonely desert.
Then Una took George, who was now no stronger than a little child who has
been ill, to an old house not far away from the giant's castle. It was
called the House of Holiness.
There lived there a good old lady and her three good and beautiful
daughters, and they helped Una to nurse George until he grew strong again.
And as he grew stronger, from the rest and their care and the dainty food
they gave him, those ladies of the House of Holiness taught the young
knight many things.
He learned to be more gentle than he had been before, and never to be
proud nor boastful, and to love nothing that was not wholly good. He
learned, too, not to hate any one, nor to be angry or revengeful, and
always to be as generous and as merciful as he was brave.
When he was quite strong once more, he went from the House of Holiness to
a place where an old hermit stayed, and from him George learned still more
of what was good.
George had always thought that he was a fairy's son, but the hermit told
him the story of how the bad fairy had stolen him from his father's castle
when he was a baby. And although George loved his Faerie Queen and the
fairy knights and ladies, he was glad to think that he was the son of an
English king.
The old man told him that if, all through his life, he was true, and
brave, and merciful and good, one day he should be called a saint. And he
would be the saint who belonged especially to all Englishmen and
Englishwomen, and to English boys and girls.
'_Saint George shalt thou callèd be,
Saint George of Merry England, the sign of victory._'
Then did George, his shining armour with its red crosses, and his sharp
sword and glittering spear buckled on again, ride away once more with Una,
to kill the dragon and set free the king and queen.
It was a dreary country that they rode through, for the dragon had laid it
all waste, but from far away they saw the tower of brass shining in the
sun.
As they drew nearer they saw a watchman on the top of the tower gazing
across the plain. Day after day for a long, long time he had looked for
Una to come back with a knight to slay the dragon. When he saw Una and
George crossing the plain, he ran and told the king and queen, and the old
king climbed up to the top of the tower to see for himself that the good
news was true.
As they drew near the tower, George and Una heard a hideous roaring sound.
It filled all the air and shook the ground like an earthquake. It came
from the dragon, that was stretched out in the sun on the side of a hill.
When it saw the knight in gleaming armour riding towards it, it roused
itself joyfully up to come and kill him, as it had killed all the other
knights.
George made Una go to a high piece of ground, from whence she could see
the fight, and where she would be out of danger, and then rode to meet the
terrible beast.
Half running and half flying, with its great ugly wings, the dragon came
swiftly towards him. It was so big that its shadow looked like the dark
shadow of a mountain on a valley. Its body was monstrous and horrible and
vast, and was all swelled out with rage. It had scales all over it that
shone like brass, and that were as strong as steel. Its wings were like
big sails, and when it flapped them and clashed its scales, the sound was
like the sound of a great army fighting. Its long tail was spotted red and
black, and at the end of it two sharp stings stuck out. It had cruel long
claws, and its gaping jaws had each three rows of iron teeth, all stained
and wet with the blood of the people it had eaten last. It had eyes like
flames, and its breath was fire and smoke.
When it rushed at George, George rode hard at it with his spear. But no
spear was ever made that was strong enough to pierce that dragon's scales.
The spear glanced off from its ugly, speckled breast, but the dragon,
furious at the hard thrust that George had given him, lashed out with its
tail so furiously that both the horse and his rider were thrown to the
ground. Lightly they rose up again, and again George smote with his spear.
Then the dragon, spreading its wings, rose from the ground like a giant
bird, and seizing George and his horse in its claws, flew away with them.
Right across the plain it flew, then, finding them heavy, it dropped them
on the ground. As it did this, George thrust with his spear under the
dragon's stretched-out wing, and made a great gaping wound. The spear
broke, but the spear-head stuck in the wound, until the dragon, mad with
rage and pain, plucked it out with its teeth.
Then did fire and smoke rush out more terribly than before from the jaws
of the furious dragon. It lashed its long tail so savagely that it folded
in its coils George's foaming horse. The frantic horse, in its struggles
to get free, threw George on the ground amongst the horrible blood. But
George sprang to his feet, and with his sharp sword struck again and again
at the dragon's head. The sword could not pierce it, but the dragon,
annoyed at George's fierce attack, thought it would fly out of his reach.
But when it tried, the wound George had made in its wing prevented it.
Then its rage at George grew fifty times more furious. It roared till the
whole land shook, and it sent out from its inside such blazing flames that
George's face was scorched and his armour grew so hot that it burned into
his flesh.
George was so tired and so faint and sore, that when he was burned as
well, he feared that the end had come. The dragon saw his faintness, and
smiting him a tremendous blow with its great tail, it threw him down, and
George fell backwards into a pool of water. Now this pool of water was a
magic spring. When George fell into it, all his faintness and weariness
vanished.
Una, who feared he was dead, saw him spring out of the water even fresher
and stronger than he had been at the beginning of the fight.
The dragon could not believe its eyes, and thought that George must be a
new knight who had come to fight it.
Before it had got over its surprise, George struck its head so fiercely
with his sword, which still dripped from the magic water, that he made a
great wound.
The dragon, roaring like a hundred lions, struck at George with the stings
on the end of its tail. One of them went right through George's shield,
and through his armour, and firmly stuck in his shoulder. Though George
was faint with the pain it caused, he hit the dragon's tail such a blow
that he hewed off five joints and left only the ugly stump.
Mad with rage, the dragon, belching out smoke and fire, and giving fearful
cries, seized George's silver shield in its claws and tried to drag it
from him. Again and again, and yet again, George struck at it with his
sword. At last he hit the joint and cut the paw clean off. Even then, so
tight was the grip that the claws had got, that it still hung bleeding
from the shield.
Then was the dragon's rage so frightful, that the flames and smoke from
its mouth were like the flames and smoke that pour out of a burning
mountain. All the sky was darkened, and as George shrank back in horror
from the burning, choking, smelling darkness, his foot slipped in the
mire, and he fell.
Now there grew in that land a magic tree, all hung with fruit and rosy
apples. From the trunk of the tree there flowed a little stream of sweet
balm that could cure even deadly wounds and make weak people strong. The
dragon was afraid of this tree and its magic stream, and dared not go near
it.
All night George lay as if he were dead, and Una, on the hillside, waited
with a heavy heart for morning to come.
He lay so close to the magic tree that the dragon dared not come near him,
but it thought that he must have died of his wounds.
When the black night had rolled away and daylight spread over the land,
George arose from his sleep. His wounds were all healed by the magic balm,
and he was stronger than before.
When the dragon rushed at him with its great fierce mouth gaping wide,
George thrust his sword down its throat and wounded it so terribly that it
rolled over like a huge mountain in an earthquake. The ground shook as it
fell, and the last breaths that it drew stained the beautiful morning sky,
like smoke from a furnace.
At first it seemed to Una too good to be true that the dragon was dead.
But when the last of the black smoke had cleared away, and the monster lay
quite still, she knew that George had won the fight and slain the dragon.
The watchman on the brazen tower had also seen the dragon fall, and so the
king had the gates of brass, that had been closed for so long, thrown wide
open.
With sounds of trumpets and shouts of joy the king and queen and their
people came out to greet George and Una, and to thank George, who had
saved them and their land from the horrible dragon.
The people crowded round the dead body of the monster. The children wished
to look at it closely, and when a bold little boy took hold of its claws,
his mother screamed with fright, and dragged him back. So long had they
been in terror of their savage enemy, that even when it lay dead they
still feared that it might do them some harm.
[Illustration: The dragon was dead (page 30)]
There never was a happier wedding than the wedding of Una and George, the
Red Cross Knight, nor was there ever any bride more beautiful than Una.
Her dress was spotless, like a white lily. It was not made of silver nor
silk, yet like silver and silk it shone and glistened. Her golden hair
hung round her happy face, and her face was like the freshest flower of
May.
Fairy music rang through the air, and there was nothing but happiness in
the land on the day that Una wedded brave George of Merry England.
III
BRITOMART AND THE MAGIC MIRROR
Long years ago there lived a beautiful princess whose name was Britomart.
When she was a little girl she did not care to play with dolls nor to sew,
but she loved to ride and to play boys' games. And when she grew older she
learned to fight with spears and swords like the knights at her father's
court.
Now a great magician called Merlin had once given a wonderful gift to the
king, Britomart's father.
It was a magic mirror, that looked like a ball of the clearest crystal.
When the king looked in this mirror he saw all that was going to happen to
him, and which of his friends were false and which true. There was no
hidden secret which that crystal ball could not tell.
One day Britomart went into her father's room and looked into his magic
mirror.
'What shall I wish to see?' she asked of herself.
Then she thought, 'Some day I shall marry. I should like the crystal ball
to show me what my husband will be like.'
Even as she thought this, she saw, like a moving picture, a knight riding
across the crystal.
He was tall and broad and strong, and looked very brave. The front of his
shining helmet was drawn up, and from under it looked out the handsome
face that his friends loved and his foes feared. He wore beautiful armour,
all inlaid with gold, and she knew what his name was, and that he had won
this armour in a fight with another great knight, for on it was written:
'_Achilles' armes which Artegall did win._'
From that day Britomart could think of nothing but the knight whose
picture had ridden across the mirror and vanished away.
She grew thoughtful and sad, and could not sleep, for she feared it was a
dreadful thing to love a shadow.
Her old nurse slept in her room, and at night when she heard Britomart
tossing about in bed and softly crying to herself, the old woman was very
unhappy. Night after night she heard her, till she could bear it no
longer. She asked Britomart what was wrong, and Britomart sobbingly told
her.
Then the good old nurse comforted Britomart. She said she was sure that
Artegall must be a real man, and not just a shadow, and that she would
find him. Then she tucked the bedclothes round Britomart, and put out the
flickering lamp. When Britomart, much comforted, had fallen quietly
asleep, her nurse sat and watched beside her, and dropped some tears
because Britomart was no longer a little baby-girl for her to take care
of, but a grown-up girl who loved a knight.
Next day the old nurse went to the woods and gathered all sorts of herbs.
She boiled them down together, and mixed them with milk and other things,
and put them in an earthen pot. Round the pot she bound three of her hairs
plaited together. Then she said a charm over the pot, and made Britomart
turn round and round and round about it. She thought that this charm would
cure Britomart of loving the knight, and make her gay and happy again. But
the old nurse's charm was no good. Britomart grew thin and sad and ill.
Then the old woman thought of Merlin, the magician who had made the
mirror.
'It is all his fault that my princess is so sad,' she said; 'he must make
her happy again.'
So she dressed Britomart and herself in shabby old clothes, and went to
seek Merlin.
The magician lived in a dark cave under a rock. The rock lay near a
swift-rushing river that ran down between thickly wooded hills. Hollow,
fearful sounds, and a clanking, as of chains, were always heard there.
When Britomart and her nurse reached the lonely cave, and heard the noise
of moans and groans and clanking chains, they were too frightened at first
to go in. But at length they plucked up courage and entered the cave, and
found Merlin writing magic words on the dark floor. He knew very well,
although they wore shabby old clothes, that his visitors were the Princess
Britomart and the princess's nurse. But he pretended that he did not know
them, and asked them what they wanted.
'Three moons have come and gone,' said the nurse, 'since this fair maid
first turned ill. I do not know what ails her, but if you cannot cure her,
she will die.'
Merlin smiled.
'If that is all you want,' he said, 'you had better take her to a doctor.'
'If any doctor could have done her good,' said the nurse, 'I should not
have troubled you. But I fear that a witch or a wicked fairy must have
bewitched her.'
Then Merlin burst out laughing.
'Why do you go on pretending to me?' he said. 'I know all about it. This
is the beautiful Princess Britomart, and you are her nurse.'
At that Britomart blushed rosy red, but the nurse said:
'If you know all our grief, then have pity on us, and give us your help.'
Then Merlin told Britomart not to be sad, for Artegall was a real living
knight, and one of the bravest and noblest that lived. His home was in
Fairyland, but he was a king's son that the fairies had stolen away when
he was a baby.
'You shall marry Artegall,' said the magician, 'and bring him back from
Fairyland to his own country, where he shall be king.'
Then he gave her much advice, and told her of the great things that should
be done in the days to come by the sons that were to be hers and
Artegall's.
And Britomart and her nurse, with happy hearts, came away from the
magician's gloomy cave.
'But how shall we seek my knight?' asked Britomart of her nurse. 'How
shall we find him?'
The nurse said: 'Let us dress ourselves in some of the armour that your
father has taken from his enemies. You shall be a knight, and I will be
your squire. Together we will ride to Fairyland and find Artegall.'
When Britomart was dressed in shining armour of silver and gold, she
looked a very handsome, tall, young knight. Her nurse dressed her as
carefully as she had dressed her long ago in her baby-clothes, and, when
all her armour was on, she put into her hand a long spear. It was a magic
spear, and there had never yet been born a knight who could sit on his
saddle when it struck him.
In the silent night they got on their horses and rode away, no longer a
princess and her nurse, but a gallant knight and a little old squire, who
seemed to find his big shield much too heavy for him.
Before Britomart and her nurse had ridden very far, they saw two knights
riding towards them. These were Guyon and the Red Cross Knight.
Guyon rode furiously at Britomart, but Britomart rode as furiously at him
with her magic spear. And, for the first time in his life, Guyon found
himself thrown from his horse and sitting heavily down on the ground. He
was very much ashamed and very angry, and would have rushed at Britomart
with his sword. But the old palmer, who was with him, calmed his rage, and
he made friends with Britomart. And for some time Britomart and those two
brave knights rode on together, and shared fights and adventures.
One day as they rode together, Britomart asked the Red Cross Knight if he
knew a wicked knight called Artegall.
'He is not a wicked knight,' said the Red Cross Knight angrily. 'He is one
of the bravest and the best.'
Britomart was so glad to hear him say this of Artegall, that she could
scarcely hide her joy. But she went on pretending that she thought
Artegall bad and cruel, just that she might hear his friend praise him.
'There is no knight more brave than Artegall,' said the Red Cross Knight.
'Ladies who suffer wrong, and little children who have none to care for
them, are always sure of having Artegall to fight for them. He is as good
as he is brave, and as brave as he is good.'
Britomart loved the Red Cross Knight because he was so true to his friend,
and more than ever she loved Artegall, the knight of the Mirror.
Presently her way and that of the Red Cross Knight parted, and she rode on
with her squire until they came to the sea-shore.
The sea was beating against the rocks, and moaning as it cast itself
against the high crags.
Britomart made her old nurse unlace her helmet, and sat down and watched
the cold grey waves.
'I feel like a little boat beaten about by the sea,' she said. 'When shall
I ever reach my harbour, and find the knight I seek?'
For a long time she sat, sadly thinking. But at last she saw a knight
cantering along the sand, and quickly put on her helmet and leaped on her
horse, and rode to meet him.
He was a bold knight, and told her to fly, or he would kill her.
'_Fly!_' proudly said Britomart. 'Words only frighten babies. I will not
fly. I will fight you!'
Then they fought, and with her spear Britomart gave the knight a terrible
wound, and rode away, leaving him lying senseless on the shore.
Many other fights had Britomart as she sought Artegall, and always her
magic spear made her the winner.
One day she came to a place where a great many knights were having a
tournament.
A beautiful golden girdle, sparkling with jewels, was to be the prize for
the knight that fought the best.
For three days they had fought and fought, until the ground was strewed
with broken spears and swords.
On the last day of the tournament a stranger knight had appeared. His
armour did not shine with silver and gold like those of the other knights,
but looked like an old tree all overgrown with moss. His horse was decked
with oak-leaves, and he carried a battered old shield.
'The Savage Knight,' the others called him, and they would have laughed at
him and his shabby armour, had he not fought so well. All day long he
fought, and one knight after another he threw wounded or dead on the
ground. At sunset they feared him as they might have feared a fierce lion,
and none dared stand against him.
Just then Britomart rode up with her golden armour gleaming against the
sunset sky.
She couched her spear and rode at the Savage Knight, and threw him to the
ground.
The other knights then all rode at her, but them, too, she threw down with
her magic spear.
So they had to own that Britomart was the victor, and had won the golden
girdle.
Now the Savage Knight was not really a savage knight. He was no other than
Artegall, the knight of the Crystal Ball.
Artegall was so ashamed, and so angry with Britomart for having thrown him
from his horse, that when the tournament was over, he rode away to a wood,
through which he knew that Britomart must pass.
'The stranger knight with his magic spear shall fight me once again,' he
angrily said, 'and this time he shall not be the victor.'
Presently, as he sat under the trees, and watched his horse grazing, he
saw Britomart riding up, brave and fearless, in her golden armour.
Artegall sprang on his horse, and furiously rode at Britomart with his
steel-headed lance. But, in the twinkling of an eye, he found himself
lying on the turf, again unseated by the magic spear.
He rushed at Britomart then with his sword, and cut and thrust at her so
savagely that her horse backed away from him. At last he struck a great
blow at her head, and the sword, glancing down her armour, struck her
horse with such force on its back that it fell to the ground, and
Britomart had to jump off. She threw aside her spear and furiously smote
Artegall with her sword. She cut his armour through, and wounded him so
deeply that blood from his wound streamed to the ground. The blows from
Artegall's sword fell on her like hail, but she struck him as fiercely as
he struck her. The grass got trampled down and stained with blood, yet
still they smote and thrust and smote again.
At last Artegall grew very tired, and Britomart was more tired still. When
Artegall saw how tired she was, he gathered up all his strength and struck
her a terrific blow, hoping to kill her quite. But the blow only sheared
off the front part of her helmet, and left her face uncovered.
And as Artegall's arm rose again for another deadly stroke, it stopped
short in the air. For instead of the grim face of the fierce knight he
thought he was fighting, there looked out a face that Artegall thought was
the loveliest he had ever seen.
Britomart's cheeks were hot and pink, and her hair, that was so long that
it reached her feet, had burst from its band and framed her fair face like
a golden frame.
The sword slipped from Artegall's fingers to the ground. He knelt at
Britomart's feet and begged her to forgive him for having treated her so
roughly.
But Britomart was still angry with him for that last fierce stroke of his.
'Rise!' she said, 'or I shall kill you!' and she held her sword over his
head.
But Artegall would not rise, but only prayed her the more earnestly to
forgive him.
Then the old nurse drew near and begged Britomart to have a truce.
'Rest yourself for a little,' she said, 'and let the Savage Knight rest
too.'
Britomart agreed, and the knight raised the front of his helmet that he
might breathe more freely.
When Britomart saw his face, so handsome and so brave, she knew at once
that the Savage Knight that she had tried to kill was Artegall, the knight
of the Mirror.
Her arm dropped, and her sword fell from her hand.
She tried to speak roughly to him, but her tongue would not say the words.
Together they rode off to a castle, where they stayed till they were
rested and their wounds were healed.
And each day that they were together Artegall loved Britomart more and
more, until at last he could stay no longer silent, but told her that he
loved her more than all the world.
So it was that the beautiful princess Britomart found her husband, the
gallant knight of the Magic Mirror.
IV
THE QUEST OF SIR GUYON
Long ago, on the first day of every year, the Queen of the Fairies used to
give a great feast.
On that day all the bravest of her knights came to her court, and when
people wanted help to slay a dragon or a savage beast, or to drive away a
witch or wicked fairy, they also came and told their stories.
To one of those feasts there came an old palmer dressed in black. His hair
was grey, and he leaned heavily on his long staff. He told a sad tale of
the evil things done in his land by a wicked witch.
The Faery Queen turned to Guyon, one of the bravest and handsomest of her
young knights. 'You shall go with this old man and save his land,' she
said to him.
'I am not worthy,' said Sir Guyon, 'but I will do your bidding and my
best.'
So he rode away with the palmer. His good horse had never paced so slowly
before, for Guyon made him keep step with the feeble old man.
It was not possible to go far from the fairy court without having fights
and adventures, but in every fight Guyon was the victor, because he
listened to what the good old palmer said, and did not think that he
himself knew better.
One day they came to a wide river on which floated a little boat, all
decked out with green branches. In it sat a fair lady, who sang and
laughed and seemed very happy and very gay. She was a servant of the
wicked witch for whom Guyon was looking, but this Guyon did not know. She
offered to ferry Guyon across the river, but she said there was no room in
her boat for the palmer.
Guyon thought she looked so pretty and merry, and so kind, that he gladly
went with her.
Together they gaily sailed down the river. When the birds sang, she sang
along with them, and when little waves gurgled and laughed against the
side of the boat, she laughed too.
But soon Guyon found that she was not really good, and he loved her gay
laugh no longer, and presently left her and wandered on alone in the
island to which she had brought him.
At last he came to a gloomy glen where trees and shrubs grew so thickly
that no sunlight could get in. Sitting there in the darkness he found a
rough and ugly man. His face was tanned with smoke and his eyes were
bleared. Great heaps of gold lay about him on every side. When he saw
Guyon, he dashed in a great fright at his money, and began to try to pour
it into a hole and hide it, lest Guyon should steal it from him.
But Guyon ran quickly at him and caught him by the arm.
'Who are you,' he asked, 'who hide your money in this lonely place,
instead of using it rightly or giving it away?'
To which the man answered, 'I am Mammon, the Money God. I am the greatest
god beneath the sky. If you will be my servant, all this money shall be
yours. Or if this be not gold enough for you, a mountain of gold, ten
times more than what you see, shall be your very own.'
But Guyon shook his head. 'I want none of your gold,' said he.
'Fair shields, gay steeds, bright arms be my delight,
Those be the riches fit for an adventurous knight.'
Then said the Money God, 'Money will buy you all those things. It can buy
you crowns and kingdoms.'
'Money brings wars and wrongs, bloodshed and bitterness,' said Guyon. 'You
may keep your gold.'
The Money God grew angry then.
'You do not know what you refuse,' he said. 'Come with me and see.'
Guyon the fearless followed him into the thickest of the bushes and down a
dark opening in the ground.
On and on they went through the darkness. Ugly things came and glared at
them, and owls and night ravens flapped their wings, but Guyon had no
fear.
At length they came to a huge cave whose roof and floor and walls were all
of gold, but the gold was dimmed by dust and cobwebs. A light like the
light of the moon from behind a dark cloud showed Guyon great iron
chests and coffers full of money, but the ground was strewn with the
skulls and dry bones of men who had tried to get the gold, and who had
failed and perished there.
[Illustration: Great heaps of gold lay about him on every side (page 47)]
'Will you serve me now?' asked Mammon. 'Only be my servant, and all these
riches shall be yours.'
'I will not serve you,' answered Guyon. 'I place a higher happiness before
my eyes.'
Then Mammon led him into another room where were a hundred blazing
furnaces.
Hideous slaves of the Money God blew bellows and stirred the flames, and
ladled out of huge caldrons on the fires great spoonfuls of molten gold.
When they saw Guyon in his shining armour, they stopped their work and
stared at him in fear and amazement. Never before had they seen any one
who was not as horrible and as ugly as themselves. Once again Mammon
offered him the gold he saw, but again Guyon refused it.
Then did he bring him to a place where was a gate of beaten gold. Through
this gate they passed, and Guyon found himself in a vast golden room,
upheld by golden pillars that shone and sparkled with precious stones.
On a throne in this room sat a beautiful lady, dressed in clothes more
gorgeous than any that the greatest king on earth ever wore.
'That is my daughter,' said Mammon. 'She shall be your wife, and all these
treasures that are too great to be counted shall be yours, if only you
will be my servant.'
'I thank you, Mammon,' said Guyon, 'but my love is given to another lady.'
The Money God was full of rage, yet still he thought that he might win
Guyon to his will. He took him to a garden where dark cypresses hung their
heads over the flaming blossoms of poppies that made men sleep for ever,
and where every sort of poisonous flower and shrub flourished richly. It
was called the Garden of Proserpine.
The most beautiful thing in the garden was a great tree, thickly leaved
and heavily hung with shining golden apples. The branches of the tree hung
their golden fruit over a dark river.
When Guyon went to the river's brink and looked in, he saw many men
struggling and moaning in the dark and fearful water. Some were trying to
grasp the fruit that hung just beyond their reach, and others were trying
vainly to get out.
'You fool!' said Mammon, 'why do you not pick some of the golden fruit
that hangs so easily within your reach?'
But Guyon, although for three long days and nights he had been without
sleep and meat and drink in the dark land of the Money God, was too true
and good a knight to do what Mammon wished. Had he picked the fruit, he
would have put himself in Mammon's power, and at once been torn into a
thousand pieces.
'I will not take the fruit,' he said; 'I will not be your slave.'
And then, for days and days, Guyon knew no more.
When he came to himself and opened his eyes, he found that his head was
resting on the knee of the good old palmer.
After the witch's beautiful servant had rowed Guyon away, the palmer had
tried and tried to find a means of crossing the river, until at last he
succeeded.
Day after day he sought Guyon, until one day a fairy voice called to him,
loud and clear, 'Come hither! hither! oh come hastily!'
He hurried to the place from whence the voice came, and in the dark
thicket where Mammon had sat and counted his gold, he found Guyon lying.
A beautiful spirit with golden hair and shining wings of many colours,
like the wings of a lovely bird, sat by Guyon's side, keeping all enemies
and evil things far from him.
When Guyon felt able for the journey, he and the palmer went on with their
travels, and he had many fights and many adventures. But ever after he had
been tempted to be Mammon's slave and had resisted him, he was a better
and a braver knight.
All his battles ended in victories, and he helped all those who needed
help, and at last he and the palmer reached the shore of the sea across
which was the land of the wicked witch.
They got a little boat, and a boatman to row them, and for two days they
were far out at sea.
On the morning of the third day, Guyon and the others heard the sound of
raging water. In the trembling light of the dawn that was spreading across
the sea they saw great waves casting themselves high into the sky.
It was a gulf, called the Gulf of Greediness, and in its furious waves
many ships were wrecked. But the palmer steered so straight and well that
he guided the little boat without harm through the angry seas.
On one side of the gulf was a great black rock where screaming seamews and
cormorants sat and waited for ships to be wrecked. It was a magic rock,
and the water round it tried to draw Guyon's boat against its ragged
sides, that it might be smashed to pieces like the other boats and ships
whose broken fragments tossed up and down in the tide.
But so wisely did the palmer steer, and so strongly did the boatman row,
that they safely passed the magic rock and got into calm water. And still
the boatman rowed so hard that the little boat cut through the water like
a silver blade, and the spray dashed off the oars into Guyon's face.
'I see land!' at last called Guyon.
On every side they saw little islands. When they got nearer they found
that they looked fresh and green and pleasant. Tall trees with blossoms of
white and red grew on them.
'Let us land!' cried Guyon.
But the boatman shook his head.
'Those are the Wandering Islands,' he said. 'They are magic islands, and
if any one lands on one of them he must wander for ever and ever.'
On one island sat a beautiful lady, with her long hair flowing round her.
She beckoned and called to them to come on shore, and when they would not
listen she jumped into a little boat and rowed swiftly after them.
Then Guyon saw that it was the wicked witch's beautiful servant, and they
took no notice of her. So she got tired of coaxing, and went away, calling
them names.
A terrible whirlpool, where the waves rushed furiously round and round,
was the next danger that they met. Then, when they were free of that, a
great storm arose, and every fierce and ugly fish and monster that ever
lived in the sea came rushing at the boat from out the foaming waves,
roaring as if they were going to devour them.
'Have no fear,' said the palmer to Guyon. 'These ugly shapes were only
made by the wicked witch to frighten you.'
With his palmer's staff he smote the sea. The waves sank down to rest,
and all the ugly monsters vanished away.
When the storm had ceased they saw on an island a lady, who wept and
wailed and cried for help.
Guyon, who was always ready to help those who wanted help, wished at once
to go to her.
But the palmer would not let him.
'She is another of the servants of the witch,' he said, 'and is only
pretending to be sad.'
They came then to a peaceful bay that lay in the shadow of a great grey
hill, and from it came the sweetest music that Guyon had ever heard.
Five beautiful mermaids were swimming in the clear green water, and the
melody of their song made Guyon long to stop and listen. They had made
this song about Guyon:
'O thou fair son of gentle fairy,
Thou art in mighty arms most magnified
Above all knights that ever battle tried.
O! turn thy rudder hitherward awhile,
Here may thy storm-beat vessel safely ride.
This is the port of rest from troublous toil,
The world's sweet inn from pain and wearisome turmoil.'
The rolling sea gently echoed their music, and the breaking waves kept
time with their voices. The very wind seemed to blend with the melody and
make it so beautiful that Guyon longed and longed to go with them to their
peaceful bay under the grey hill. But the palmer would not let him stop,
and the boatman rowed onwards.
Then a thick, choking, grey mist crept over the sea and blotted out
everything, and they could not tell where to steer. And round the boat
flew great flocks of fierce birds and bats, smiting the voyagers in their
faces with wicked wings.
Still the boatman rowed steadily on, and steadily the palmer steered, till
the weather began to clear. And, when the fog was gone, they saw at last
the fair land to which the Faerie Queen had sent Guyon, that he might save
it from the magic of the wicked witch.
When they reached the shore the boatman stayed with his boat, and Guyon
and the palmer landed. And the palmer was glad, for he felt that their
task was nearly done.
Savage, roaring beasts rushed at them as soon as they reached the shore.
But the palmer waved his staff at them, and they shrank trembling away.
Soon Guyon and his guide came to the palace of the witch.
The palace was made of ivory as white as the foam of the sea, and it
glittered with gold. At the ivory gate stood a young man decked with
flowers, and holding a staff in his hand. He impudently held out a great
bowl of wine for Guyon to drink. But Guyon threw the bowl on the ground,
and broke the staff with which the man worked wicked magic.
Then Guyon and the palmer passed on, through rich gardens full of
beautiful flowers, and came to another gate made of green boughs and
branches. Over it spread a vine, from which hung great bunches of grapes,
red, and green, and purple and gold.
A beautiful lady stood by the gate. She reached up to a bunch of purple
grapes, and squeezed their juice into a golden cup and offered it to
Guyon. But Guyon dashed the cup to the ground, and left her raging at him.
Past trees and flowers and clear fountains they went, and all the time
through this lovely place there rang magic music. Sweet voices, the song
of birds, the whispering winds, the sound of silvery instruments, and the
murmur of water all blended together to make melody.
The farther they went, the more beautiful were the sights they saw, and
the sweeter the music.
At last, lying on a bed of red roses, they found the wicked witch.
Softly they crept through the flowery shrubs to where she lay, and before
she knew that they were near, Guyon threw over her a net that the palmer
had made. She struggled wildly to free herself, but before she could
escape, Guyon bound her fast with chains.
Then he broke down and destroyed the palace, and all the things that had
seemed so beautiful, but that were only a part of her wicked magic.
As Guyon and the palmer led the witch by her chains to their boat that
waited by the shore, the fierce beasts that had attacked them when they
landed came roaring at them again.
But the palmer touched each one with his staff, and at once they were
turned into men. For it was only the witch's magic that had made them
beasts. One of them, named Gryll, who had been a pig, was angry with the
palmer, and said he had far rather stay a pig than be a man.
'Let Gryll be Gryll, and have his hoggish mind,
But let us hence depart whilst weather serves and wind,'
said the palmer.
So they sailed away to the fairy court, and gave their wicked prisoner to
the queen to be punished.
And Sir Guyon was ready once again to do the Faerie Queen's commands, to
war against all evil things, and to fight bravely for the right.
V
PASTORELLA
Long, long ago, in a far-away land, there lived a great noble, called the
Lord of Many Islands. He had a beautiful daughter named Claribel, and he
wished her to marry a rich prince.
But Claribel loved a brave young knight, and she married him without her
father's knowledge.
The Lord of Many Islands was fearfully angry when he found out that she
was married.
He threw the young knight into one dark dungeon and Claribel into another,
and there they were imprisoned for years and years, until the Lord of Many
Islands was dead. Claribel was rich then, and she and her husband would
have been very happy together, but for a great loss that they had had.
While she was in prison a little baby girl came to Claribel. She feared
that her angry father might kill the baby if he knew that it had been
born, so she gave it to her maid, and told her to give it to some one to
take care of.
The maid carried the child far away to where there were no houses, but
only wild moors and thick woods. There was no one there to give it to, but
she dared not take it back in case its grandfather might kill it. She did
not know what to do, and she cried and cried until the baby's clothes were
quite wet with her tears.
It was a very pretty baby, and the maid noticed that on its little breast
there was a tiny purple mark, as if some one had painted on it an open
rose. She drew its clothes over the mark, and then laid the baby gently
down behind some green bushes, and went home crying bitterly.
When the baby found herself lying out in the cold with no one to care for
her, she cried too. And she cried so loudly and so long, that a shepherd
called Meliboeus heard her cries, and came to see what was wrong.
When he found the beautiful baby, he wrapped her in his warm cloak and
carried her home to his wife. From that day the baby was their little
girl. They called her Pastorella, and loved her as if she were really
their own.
Pastorella grew up amongst shepherds and shepherdesses, yet she was never
quite like them. None of the shepherdesses were as beautiful as she was,
and none were as gentle nor as full of grace. So they called Pastorella
their queen, and would often crown her with garlands of flowers.
When Pastorella was grown up, there came one day to the country of plains
and woods where she lived a brave and noble knight.
His name was Calidore, and of all the knights of the Faerie Queen there
was none so gentle nor so courteous as he. He always thought of others
first, and never did anything that he thought would hurt the feelings of
any one. Yet he was brave and strong, and had done many gallant deeds.
He was hunting a monster that had done much harm, when he came near the
home of Pastorella.
Sheep were grazing on the plain, and nibbling the golden buds that the
spring sunshine had brought to the broom. Shepherds were watching the
sheep. Some were singing out of the happiness of their hearts, because of
the blue sky and the green grass and the spring flowers. Others were
playing on pipes they had made for themselves out of the fresh young
willow saplings.
Calidore asked them if they had seen the monster that he sought.
'We have seen no monster, nor any dreadful thing that could do our sheep
or us harm,' they answered, 'and if there be such things, we pray they may
be kept far from us.'
Then one of them, seeing how hot and tired Sir Calidore was, asked him if
he would have something to drink and something to eat. Their food was very
simple, but Calidore thanked them, and gladly sat down to eat and drink
along with them.
A little way from where they sat, some shepherds and shepherdesses were
dancing. Hand in hand, the pretty shepherdesses danced round in a ring.
Beyond them sat a circle of shepherds, who sang and piped for the girls to
dance. And on a green hillock in the middle of the ring of girls sat
Pastorella. She wore a dainty gown that she herself had made, and on her
head was a crown of spring flowers that the shepherdesses had bound
together with gay silken ribbons.
'Pastorella,' sang the shepherds and the girls, 'Pastorella is our queen.'
Calidore sat and watched. And the more he looked at Pastorella, the more
he wanted to look. And he looked, and he looked, and he looked again at
Pastorella's sweet and lovely face, until Pastorella had stolen all his
heart away. He forgot all about the monster he was hunting, and could only
say to himself, as the shepherds had sung, 'Pastorella ... Pastorella ...
Pastorella is my queen.'
All day long he sat, until the evening dew began to fall, and the sunset
slowly died away, and the shepherds called the sheep together and drove
them home.
As long as Pastorella was there, Calidore felt that he could not move. But
presently an old man with silver hair and beard, and a shepherd's crook in
his hand, came and called to Pastorella, 'Come, my daughter, it is time to
go home.'
It was Meliboeus, and when Calidore saw Pastorella rise and call her sheep
and turn to go, he did not know what to do, for he could only think of
Pastorella.
But when good old Meliboeus saw the knight being left all alone, and the
shadows falling, and the trees looking grey and cold, he said to him, 'I
have only a little cottage, turfed outside to keep out the wind and wet,
but it is better to be there than to roam all night in the lonely woods,
and I bid you welcome, Sir Knight.'
[Illustration: In the middle of the ring of girls sat Pastorella (page
63)]
And Calidore gladly went with him, for that was just what he was longing
to do.
All evening, as he listened to the talk of Meliboeus, who was a wise and
good old man, Calidore's eyes followed Pastorella. He offered Meliboeus
some gold to pay for his lodging, but Meliboeus said, 'I do not want your
gold, but, if you will, stay with us and be our guest.'
So, day after day, Calidore stayed with the shepherds. And, day after day,
he loved Pastorella more. He treated her and said pretty things to her as
knights were used to treat and to speak to the court ladies. But
Pastorella was used to simpler things, and liked the simple things best.
When Calidore saw this, he laid aside his armour and dressed himself like
a shepherd, with a crook instead of a spear. Every day he helped
Pastorella to drive her sheep to the field, and took care of them and
drove away the hungry wolves, so that she might do as she liked and never
have any care, knowing that he was there.
Now, one of the shepherds, whose name was Corydon, for a long time had
loved Pastorella. He would steal the little fluffy sparrows from their
nests, and catch the young squirrels, and bring them to her as gifts. He
helped her with her sheep, and tried in every way he knew to show her that
he loved her.
When he saw Calidore doing things for Pastorella he grew very jealous and
angry. He sulked and scowled and was very cross with Pastorella.
One day when the shepherd who piped the best was playing, the other
shepherds said that Calidore and Pastorella must dance. But Calidore put
Corydon in his place, and when Pastorella took her own garland of flowers
and placed it on Calidore's head, Calidore gently took it off and put it
on Corydon's.
Another time, when the shepherds were wrestling, Corydon challenged
Calidore to wrestle with him. Corydon was a very good wrestler, and he
hoped to throw Calidore down. But in one minute Calidore had thrown
Corydon flat on the ground. Then Pastorella gave the victor's crown of
oak-leaves to Calidore. But Calidore said 'Corydon has won the oak-leaves
well,' and placed the crown on Corydon's head.
All the shepherds except Corydon soon came to like Calidore, for he was
always gentle and kind. But Corydon hated him, because he thought that
Pastorella cared for Calidore more than she cared for him.
One day Pastorella and Corydon and Calidore went together to the woods to
gather wild strawberries. Pastorella's little fingers were busy picking
the ripe red fruit from amongst its fresh green leaves, when there glided
from out the bushes a great beast of black and yellow, that walked quietly
as a cat and had yellow, cruel eyes.
It was a tiger, and when Pastorella heard a twig break under its great
pads, and looked up, it rushed at her fiercely. Pastorella screamed for
help, and Corydon, who was near her, ran to see what was wrong. But when
he saw the savage tiger, he ran away again in a fearful fright. Calidore
was further off, but he, too, ran, and came just in time to see the tiger
spring at Pastorella. He had no sword nor spear, but with his shepherd's
crook he struck the tiger such a terrific blow, that it dropped, stunned,
to the ground. Before it could rise, he drew his knife and cut off its
head, which he laid at Pastorella's feet.
From that day Pastorella loved Calidore, and he and she were very, very
happy together.
It chanced that one day Calidore went far into the forest to hunt the
deer. While he was away a band of wicked robbers attacked the shepherds.
They killed many of them, and took the rest prisoners. They burned down
all their cottages, and stole their flocks of sheep.
Amongst those that they drove away as captives were Meliboeus and his
wife, Corydon, and Pastorella. Through the dark night they drove them on,
until they came to the sea. On an island near the coast was the robbers'
home. The island was covered with trees and thick brushwood, and the
robbers lived in underground caves, so well hidden amongst the bushes that
it was hard to find them. The robbers meant to sell the shepherds and
shepherdesses as slaves, but until merchants came to buy them they kept
their prisoners in the darkest of the caves, and used them very cruelly.
One morning the robber captain came to look at his captives. When he saw
Pastorella in her pretty gown, all soiled now and worn, with her long
golden hair and beautiful blue eyes, and her face white and thin with
suffering, he thought her so lovely that he determined to have her for his
wife.
From that day she was kindly treated. But when the robber told Pastorella
that he loved her and wanted her for his wife, she pretended she was ill.
'I am much too ill to marry any one,' she said.
To the island there came one day the ships of some merchants who wished to
buy slaves. They bought Meliboeus and Corydon and all the others. Then one
of the robbers said to the captain:
'They are all here but the fair shepherdess.'
And he told the merchants that Pastorella would make a much more beautiful
slave than any of those they had bought.
Then the captain was very angry.
'She belongs to me,' he said. 'I will not sell her.'
To show the merchants that Pastorella was ill and not fit to be a slave,
at last he sent for her.
The cave was lighted only by flickering candles, and Pastorella's fair
face looked like a beautiful star in the darkness. Although she was so
pale, she was so beautiful that the merchants said that they must
certainly have her.
'I have told you I will not sell her,' said the captain sulkily.
They offered him much gold, but still he would only say, 'I will not sell
her.'
'If you will not sell this slave,' said the merchants, 'we will not buy
any of the others.'
Then the other robbers grew very angry with their captain, and tried to
compel him to give in.
'I shall kill the first who dares lay a hand on her!' furiously said the
captain, drawing his sword.
Then began a fearful fight. The candles were knocked down, and the robbers
fought in the dark, no man knowing with whom he fought.
But before the candles went out, the robbers in their fury killed all
their prisoners, lest they might take the chance of escaping, or fight
against them. Old Meliboeus and his wife were slain, and all the other
shepherds and shepherdesses, excepting Corydon and Pastorella.
Corydon, who was always good at running away, escaped in the darkness.
The robber captain put Pastorella behind him, and fought for her. At last
he was stabbed through the heart and fell dead. The sword that killed him
pierced Pastorella's arm, and she, too, fell down in a faint.
When she opened her eyes the robbers who were left had stopped fighting,
and had lighted the candles, and were counting their dead and wounded.
When she saw her dear father and mother and her friends lying cold and
still beside her, she began to sob and cry. As soon as the robbers knew
that she lived, they thrust her back into the darkest of their caves. The
most cruel of all the robbers was her gaoler. He would not allow her to
bind up her wound, and he gave her scarcely anything to eat or to drink.
He would not even let her rest, and so, in pain and hunger and sadness,
Pastorella passed her weary nights and days.
Now when Calidore got back from his hunting, he expected to hear the
shepherds' pipes, and their songs, and the bleating of the sheep, and to
see Pastorella in her dainty gown and with flowers in her golden hair
coming to meet him.
Instead of that, the place which had been so gay was sad and silent. The
cottages were smouldering black ruins, and there was no living creature
there.
Calidore wildly sought everywhere for some trace of Pastorella. But when
he sought her in the woods and called 'Pastorella ... Pastorella ...',
only the trees echoed 'Pastorella.' In the plains he sought her, but they
lay silent and lonely under the stars, and they, too, only echoed
'Pastorella ... Pastorella....'
Week after week he searched for her, until one day he saw a man running
across the plain. The man's hair was standing up on his head as if he were
in a terrible fright, and his clothes were in rags.
When he got near, Calidore saw that it was Corydon.
'Where is Pastorella?' eagerly asked Calidore.
Corydon burst into tears.
'Ah, well-a-day,' he said, 'I saw fair Pastorella die!'
He then told Calidore all about the robbers' raid, and all that had
happened in that dreadful cave. Only one thing he did not know. He did not
know that Pastorella was alive. He had seen her fall down, and he thought
that she was dead.
So Calidore's heart was nearly broken, and he vowed a vow that he would
not rest until he had punished the wicked men who had killed Pastorella.
He made Corydon come with him to show him the way to the robbers' island.
At first Corydon was too frightened to go, but at last Calidore persuaded
him. Together they set off, dressed like shepherds. But although Calidore
carried only a shepherd's crook, under his smock he wore his steel armour.
When at last they had reached the island, they found some sheep grazing,
and knew them for some of those that had belonged to Meliboeus. When
Corydon saw the sheep he had taken care of in the days when he was most
happy, he began to cry.
But Calidore comforted him, and they went on to where some robber
shepherds lay asleep in the shade. Corydon wanted to kill them as they
slept, but Calidore had other plans, and would not let him.
He awoke them, and they talked together. The robbers told him that they
did not care to look after sheep, but liked better to fight and rob and
kill. When Calidore and Corydon said that they would help them to keep the
sheep, the robbers were glad. All day they stayed with the flocks, and at
night the robbers took them home to their dark caves. There Calidore and
Corydon heard news that made them glad, but made Calidore the more glad,
for he loved Pastorella more than Corydon had ever done.
They learned that Pastorella was alive.
And so, day after day, they went on with their work, and waited and
watched for a chance to set Pastorella free.
One night when the robbers had been away all day stealing and killing, and
were all very tired, Calidore knew that the time had come to try to save
Pastorella.
Corydon was too frightened to go with him. So all alone, at dead of night,
Calidore went to the cave where the new robber captain, Pastorella's
gaoler, slept. Calidore had managed to get a little sword belonging to a
robber, but he had nothing else to fight with.
When he came to the cave, he found the door fastened. He put his strong
shoulder against it, and burst the door in. The crash awoke Pastorella's
gaoler, and he ran to see what it was. With one blow of his sword Calidore
killed him. Then he called, till his voice rang through the gloomy cave,
'_Pastorella!_'
Pastorella heard the noise, and lay trembling lest some new dreadful thing
had come upon her. But when, again and again, Calidore called her name,
her heart jumped for joy, and she ran out of the darkness right into her
true knight's arms. And Calidore threw his arms about her, and kissed her
a thousand times.
The robbers had waked up, hearing the crash of the door, and the yell of
the robber as he died, and Calidore's cry of 'Pastorella.' Like a swarm of
angry wasps they flocked to the door of the cave, but in the doorway stood
Calidore with his sword, and slew every man who dared to try to kill him.
He slew and slew until the doorway was blocked with dead bodies. Then
those robbers that still lived were afraid to touch him, and went away to
rest until morning.
Calidore also rested, and when daylight came he found amongst the dead
robbers a better sword than the one he already had, and with that in his
hand he walked out of the cave.
The robbers were lying in wait for him, and rushed at him from every side
when he appeared.
But Calidore was like a lion in a herd of deer. With his sharp sword he
thrust and smote, until the robbers who did not lie dead around him fled
in terror, and hid themselves in their caves.
Then Calidore went back to where he had left Pastorella, and cheered and
comforted her. Together they went through the robbers' caves, and took the
richest of their treasures of gold and precious jewels. All the sheep they
gave to Corydon, who gladly drove them away.
Then Calidore took Pastorella to the castle of one of his friends, a noble
knight, whose gentle wife was called Claribel.
Calidore had to go to hunt the monster that he was pursuing when he first
met the shepherds, so he left Pastorella with the knight and his lady.
Pastorella was so gentle and beautiful that they loved her for her own
sweet sake, as well as for Calidore's, and cared for her as if she was
their own daughter.
An old woman who had always been Claribel's maid was given as maid to
Pastorella.
One morning as this woman helped her to dress, she noticed on Pastorella's
white breast a curious little mark. It was as if some one had painted on
the fair skin a tiny purple rose with open petals. The old woman ran to
her mistress, Claribel.
'Your baby lives!' she cried; 'the little baby I left crying under the
green bushes is the beautiful Pastorella who is to marry Sir Calidore!'
Claribel ran to Pastorella's room, and looked at the little rose, and
asked many questions. And when Pastorella had answered her, she was quite
satisfied that she was indeed the baby-girl for whom her heart had been so
hungry through all those years.
'My daughter, my daughter, that I mourned as dead!' she sobbed, as she
held Pastorella in her arms and kissed her again and again.
When the knight knew that he was Pastorella's father, he was as glad as
Claribel. So they lived happily together until Calidore had slain the
monster and come back to marry Pastorella.
Then instead of Pastorella, the shepherd's daughter, with her little
dainty gown and her wreath of wildflowers, he found a Pastorella in
jewels, and silks, and satins, who was the daughter of a great knight and
his lady, and grand-daughter of the Lord of Many Islands.
Yet the Pastorella who married brave Sir Calidore was evermore Pastorella,
the simplest and sweetest bride that any knight ever brought to the court
of the Faerie Queen.
VI
CAMBELL AND TRIAMOND
Once upon a time a fairy had a lovely daughter called Cambina, and three
sons who were born on the same day.
The eldest son she named Priamond, the second Diamond, and the third
Triamond.
Priamond was very stout and big, but he could not strike hard. Diamond
struck very hard, but he was little and thin. But Triamond was tall and
stout and strong as well.
Priamond used to fight on foot. Triamond fought on horseback. But Diamond
could fight equally well on a horse or off it.
Triamond fought with a spear and shield. Diamond fought with a battle-axe.
But Priamond could fight just as well with an axe as he could with a spear
and shield.
Their fairy mother was so fond and so proud of her gallant sons, that she
could not bear to think of one of them dying.
So she went to see three witches called the Three Fates, who lived in a
dark place underground, and worked at their spinning-wheels day and night.
She asked the Fates to let her sons have long, long lives. That they would
not promise, but they promised that if Priamond died first, all his
strength should go into the other two. And if Diamond should then die, all
his strength and Priamond's were to go into their brother Triamond.
Priamond, Diamond, and Triamond loved each other very dearly. When they
grew up and all fell in love with the same lady, it did not make them less
good friends.
The name of this lady was Canacee. She was very beautiful, and was the
cleverest lady in all that land. She knew all about birds and beasts and
plants and flowers, and was as witty as she was wise.
Many knights wished to marry her, and these knights were so jealous of
each other that they were constantly fighting about her.
Canacee had a brother named Cambell, a wise young knight, who was sorry to
see how often the knights fought with each other about his sister.
One day, when they were all gathered together, Cambell told them that
he had made a plan by which they could decide which of them was to marry
Canacee.
[Illustration: She asked the Fates to let her sons have long, long lives
(page 80)]
'Choose from amongst yourselves,' said he, 'the three knights that you all
think the bravest and the best fighters, and I shall fight them, one by
one. The knight who beats me shall have my sister Canacee for his wife.'
Now all the knights knew that Canacee had given her brother a magic ring,
and that, as long as he wore it, no matter how deep a wound he got, the
wound would not bleed, and he would not die.
'It is very well for Cambell,' they said. 'We cannot kill him, but he can
kill us.'
So they would not fight, even to win Canacee.
But the three brothers, Priamond, Diamond, and Triamond, were not afraid.
'We will fight with you, Cambell,' they said, 'for all of us love
Canacee.'
So a day was fixed for this great fight. On the morning of the day, no
sooner was it light than the three brothers in their shining armour were
ready on the field. Crowds of people came to watch the fight, and there
were six judges to see that the knights fought fairly. Canacee, in a
beautiful dress, sat on a high platform whence she could see all that went
on. When Cambell strode into the field, he looked as if he were quite sure
of defeating all three knights.
Then came Priamond, Diamond, and Triamond, marching together, in splendid
armour, with their gay-coloured banners flying.
They bowed low before Canacee, the lady they loved, and the trumpets
sounded and sweet music played.
Then a trumpet blew loudly, and Cambell and stout Priamond began to fight.
Furiously they struck at each other, and at last Priamond's spear went
through Cambell's shoulder. But although the shoulder was pierced, and the
pain from the wound was terrible, not a single drop of blood fell from it.
So they fought and fought, until Cambell's spear was driven through brave
Priamond's neck. Like a great oak-tree that the storm has struck, Priamond
tottered, then fell with a mighty crash. There, on the ground, he lay
bleeding and dead.
When he died, all his strength passed into his two brothers, as the Three
Fates had promised to his fairy mother.
A second time the trumpet sounded, and slight little Diamond, his
battle-axe in his hand, fiercely rushed at Cambell.
So furiously did they hew and hack at each other, that their armour was
cut and gashed as if it had been rotten wood. No blood flowed from
Cambell's wounds, but Diamond's blood gushed fast, and reddened the green
turf.
Fierce little Diamond grew tired at last of hacking and hewing and yet
never killing Cambell. So he put all his strength into one terrible
stroke, and swung his axe round with all his might. Had the blow reached
Cambell it must have chopped his head in two, but Cambell swerved aside.
Diamond had used so much force, that when he missed his aim his foot
slipped. Cambell took the chance, let drive at him with all his power, and
with his axe cut Diamond's head clean off.
For a moment Diamond's headless body stood still. Then gallant little
Diamond fell dead on the ground. As he fell, all his strength, and the
strength of Priamond, went into Triamond, the youngest brother.
Then Triamond, stronger and more angry than he had ever been before,
lightly sprang up from where he had sat to watch the fight.
His strokes fell like hail on Cambell's armour. He struck, he thrust, he
hewed, he hacked, till the sparks flew from his sword like the shining
drops that are dashed from a waterfall.
Sometimes Triamond seemed to be winning; sometimes Cambell. The blood
gushed from Triamond's wounds, till he grew faint. But although Cambell
was covered with wounds the magic ring stopped his blood from flowing, so
that he grew no less strong. When he saw Triamond growing weak, he smote
him in the throat with all his might, and Triamond fell down as if he were
dead.
But Triamond did not die. From the fearful wound all the strength that had
belonged to his brother Priamond ebbed away. Still he had his own strength
and Diamond's strength left.
So he rose up again, and Cambell, who had thought him dead, was so amazed
that Triamond gave him a hard stroke before he had time to defend himself.
Then Cambell fought with more care, and seemed rather to try to save
himself than to try to kill Triamond. Triamond, seeing this, thought that
Cambell must be tired, and that he could easily beat him now. With that
he whirled up his sword to give a fearful blow. But Cambell, quick as
lightning, thrust his sword under Triamond's upraised arm, so that it
passed right through his body and came out at the other side. Even then
the blow that Triamond struck was such a terrible one, that it cut through
Cambell's steel helmet and gashed open his head, and he fell senseless to
the ground.
Triamond, too, fell down, and out of his wound all Diamond's strength
ebbed away.
When those who looked on saw this, they thought that the fight was at an
end, because the fighters all lay dead.
Canacee began to cry because her brother and the brave knight who loved
her were slain. But in a moment both knights rose to their feet again.
Those who watched could not believe their eyes when they saw them begin to
fight as fiercely as before.
While every one stared in wonder and in fear, because they knew that soon
the knights must surely kill each other, a loud noise suddenly drowned the
clash of weapons.
It was a sound as of women and boys shouting and screaming in a panic.
Cambell and Triamond stopped their fight for an instant to listen and to
look at the place from whence the noise came.
They saw a golden chariot, decked with wonderful ornaments, whirling
towards them with the force of a storm. Two fierce lions drew the chariot,
and in it sat a lady, whose face shone with beauty and goodness.
It was Triamond's sister, Cambina, who knew more about magic than almost
any one else in all Fairyland.
When the crowds who watched saw her and her growling lions, they huddled
together like frightened sheep. Some laughed, most of them screamed, and
all of them ran till the dust flew up in clouds.
In one hand Cambina carried a magic wand with two serpents twisted round
it. In the other she held a golden cup filled with a magic drink, that
made those who drank of it forget all anger and bitterness, and filled
their hearts with happiness and friendship and peace.
When Cambina came to the wooden barrier that shut off the watchers from
the field where the knights had fought, she softly struck the rail with
her wand.
It flew open, and the lions dashed in with Cambina's glittering chariot.
She got out of her chariot and ran up to the two knights, and begged them
to fight no more. But they would not listen, and began to fight again.
Then she knelt on the bloodstained ground, and besought them with tears to
lay down their swords. When they still went fiercely on, she smote them
lightly with her magic wand.
Their swords fell to the ground, and while they stared at each other in
wonder, Cambina handed them her golden cup. They were so hot and thirsty
that they gladly drank. And, as they drank, all anger went out of their
hearts, and love for each other took its place. They kissed, and shook
hands, and vowed that they would be friends for evermore.
When the people saw this, they shouted and cheered for gladness till all
the air rang.
And Canacee ran down from her platform and kissed Cambina, who had stopped
the fearful fight and made Canacee's brother and her lover friends.
Then the trumpets sounded, and Cambina took Canacee into her chariot
beside her, and the lions galloped off to Canacee's palace. And all the
people thought how beautiful were these two lovely ladies, whose faces
were fresh as morning roses and radiant with happiness.
Cambell and Canacee gave a great feast that lasted for days and days.
And Triamond married Canacee, and Cambell married Cambina, and they all
lived happily and peacefully ever afterwards.
VII
MARINELL, THE SEA-NYMPH'S SON
Sometimes when the sun is rising on the sea and making the waves all pink
and gold, the sailors whose boats are sailing out of the grey night fancy
that they see fair ladies floating on the white crests of the waves, or
drying their long yellow hair in the warm sunshine.
Sometimes poets who wander on the beach at night, or sit on the high
cliffs where the sea-pinks grow, see those beautiful ladies playing in the
silver moonlight.
And musicians hear them singing, singing, singing, till their songs
silence the sea-birds harsh cry, and their voices blend with the swish and
the rush of the sea and the moan of the waves on the shore.
The sailors tell stories of them, and the musicians put their songs into
their hearts. But the poets write poems about them, and say:--
'There are no ladies so fair to see as the nymphs whose father is a king.
Nereus is their father, and they are the Nereids.
Their home is under the sea; as blue as the sea are their eyes.
Their long, long hair is yellow like sand.
Their silver voices are like lutes, and they steal men's hearts away.'
Long, long ago, one of these nymphs became the wife of a brave knight, who
found her sleeping amongst the rocks and loved her for her beauty. Cymoënt
was her name, and the other nymphs called her Cymoënt the Black Browed,
because dark lashes and eyebrows shaded her sea-blue eyes.
The knight and the nymph had a son as strong and as brave as his father,
and as beautiful as his mother, and Cymoënt called him Marinell.
'My son must be richer than any of the knights who live on the land,' said
Cymoënt to the king her father. 'Give him riches.'
So the sea-king told the waves to cast on the shore riches that they had
stolen from all the ships that had ever been wrecked. And the waves
strewed the strand with gold and amber and ivory and pearls, and every
sort of jewel and precious stone.
The shore sparkled and shone with Marinell's riches, and no one dared
touch them, for Marinell had beaten a hundred knights in battle, and
fought every man who dared venture to ride along these sands.
Cymoënt feared that as Marinell had won so many fights, he might grow
reckless and get killed. Now Neptune, who was king of all the seas, had a
shepherd who could tell what was going to happen in the future.
'Tell me,' Cymoënt said to him, 'how long my Marinell will live, and from
what dangers he must take most care to keep away.'
'Do not let him go near any women,' said the Shepherd of the Seas. 'I can
see that a woman will either hurt him very much, or kill him altogether.'
So Cymoënt warned her son never to go near any woman. And many ladies were
sad because handsome Marinell would not speak to them, and the lovely lady
Florimell was the saddest of all.
One day as Marinell proudly rode along the glittering sand, he saw a
knight in armour that shone as brightly as the gold that the little waves
had kissed.
'I am Lord of the Golden Strand!' said Marinell angrily, 'how dare the
knight ride on the shore that is all my own!'
He rode furiously up, and told the knight to fly.
But the knight was Britomart, the fair lady with a man's armour and a
man's heart. She scorned his proud words, and smote him with her magic
spear.
And Britomart rode away, leaving Marinell lying as if he were dead.
His red blood stained his armour, and reddened the little waves that crept
up to see what was wrong. The water washed over his feet.
'He is asleep,' said the little waves. 'We will wake him.'
But Marinell lay cold and still, and the blood dripped and dripped on to
the golden sand.
Then the waves grew frightened, and the sea-birds screamed, '_Marinell is
dead, is dead_ ... _dead_ ... _dead_....'
So the news came to his mother Cymoënt. Cymoënt and her sisters were
playing by a pond near the sea, round which grew nodding yellow daffodils.
They were picking the daffodils and making them into garlands for their
fair heads, when they heard the message of the birds, '_Marinell is dead,
dead, dead_.'
Cymoënt tore the daffodils from her hair, and fell on the ground in a
faint. All her sister nymphs wailed and wept and threw their gay flowers
away, and Cymoënt lay with white face, and her head on the poor, torn
daffodils.
[Illustration: But the knight was Britomart, the fair lady with a man's
armour and a man's heart (page 92)]
At last she came out of her faint, and asked for her chariot, and all her
sisters sent for their chariots too.
A team of dolphins drew the chariot of Cymoënt, and they were trained so
well that they cut through the water as swiftly as swallows, and did not
even leave a track of white foam behind. Other fishes drew the chariots of
the other nymphs, and Neptune, King of all the Seas, was so sorry for the
sorrow of Cymoënt and the other Nereids, that he told his waves to be
gentle, and let them pass peacefully to where Marinell lay on the golden
strand.
When they got near where he lay, they got out of their chariots, for they
feared that the dolphins and other fishes might get bruised and hurt by
the rocks and pebbles on the shore. And with their strong white arms they
swiftly swam to where Marinell lay, still and silent in his blood.
When Cymoënt saw her son's white face, she fainted again, and when she had
recovered from her faint, she cried and moaned so bitterly, that even the
hard rocks nearly wept for sorrow.
She and her sisters carefully looked at Marinell's wound, and one of them,
who knew much about healing, felt his pulse, and found that a little life
was still left in him. With their soft, silver-fringed mantles they wiped
the blood from the wound, and poured in soothing balm and nectar, and
bound it up. Then they strewed Cymoënt's chariot with flowers, and lifted
Marinell gently up, and laid him in it. And the dolphins, knowing to go
quietly and swiftly, swam off with Cymoënt and Marinell to Cymoënt's bower
under the sea.
Deep in the bottom of the sea was the bower. It was built of hollow waves,
heaped high, like stormy clouds. In it they laid Marinell, and hastily
sent for the doctor of all the folk under the sea, to come and try to cure
the dreadful wound. So clever and so wise was this doctor, that soon the
nymphs could laugh and sport again because Marinell was well.
But Cymoënt was afraid that some other harm might come to him if he went
on to the land. So she made him stay beside her, under the sea, until
Marinell grew tired of doing nothing. He longed to gallop away on his
horse, his sword clanking by his side, and see the green woods and grey
towers of the land, instead of idling away the hours in a bower under the
sea, where there was nothing for him to do, but to watch the fishes of
silver and blue and red, as they chased each other through the forests of
seaweed.
One day two great rivers were married, and all the sea-folk went to the
wedding. A feast was given in the house of the Shepherd of the Seas, and
while Cymoënt and the other nymphs were there, Marinell wandered about
outside. For because Marinell's father had been a knight and not one of
the sea-folk, Marinell might not eat the food they ate.
While the feast went gaily on, Marinell heard piteous cries coming from
under a black cliff. And when he listened, he knew that the voice was the
voice of Florimell.
The wicked old Shepherd of the Seas had found her tossing on the waves in
a little boat, and had taken her home to his deep-down caves to make her
his wife. But Florimell did not love the old man. She loved only
Marinell. So nothing that the shepherd could do would make Florimell say
that she would marry him. At last, in a rage, he shut her up in a gloomy
place under a dark rock, where no sunshine ever came.
'She will soon grow tired of the dark and the loneliness,' he thought,
'and then she will give in, and become my wife.'
But Florimell would not give in. She was crying and sobbing when Marinell
came to the rock, and he heard her say, 'Marinell, Marinell, all this I
suffer for love of thee.'
Marinell stood still and listened. Then he heard her say:--
'In spite of all this sorrow, yet will I never of my love repent,
But joy that for his sake I suffered prisonment.'
Then she gave yet more pitiful sobs, for she was very sad and cold and
hungry. Yet always she would say again, between her sobs, 'I will never
love any man but Marinell.'
Now Marinell had never in all his life truly loved any one. But when he
heard Florimell's piteous voice, and knew how she loved him, and how much
she had suffered for his sake, his heart, that had been so hard, grew
soft.
'Poor little maid,' he said to himself, 'poor, beautiful little
Florimell.'
No sooner had he begun to love Florimell, than he began to think of a plan
by which to save her from the bad old shepherd.
At first, he thought he would ask the shepherd to let her go. But he knew
that that would be no good. Then he thought that he would fight with the
shepherd, and win her in that way. But that plan he also gave up. 'I will
break into her prison, and steal her away,' he thought next. But he had no
boat, and the sea flowed all round the rock, so that it was not possible.
While he still thought and planned, the marriage-feast came to an end, and
Marinell had to go home with his mother. He looked so miserable that no
one would have taken him for a wedding-guest.
Each day that passed after the wedding found him looking more and more
sad. He could not eat nor sleep for thinking of Florimell, shut up in a
dreary dungeon from which he could not free her. For want of sleep and
food, and because he was so unhappy, Marinell grew ill. He was so weak
that he could not rise, and his mother, Cymoënt, was greatly distressed.
'The wound he got from Britomart cannot be rightly healed,' she said. So
she sent for the wise doctor of the seas.
'The old wound is quite whole,' said the doctor. 'This is a new pain which
I cannot understand.'
Then Cymoënt sent for a doctor who was so wise and so great that he was
chief of all the doctors on the land. When he had examined Marinell he
said, 'The name of this illness is Love.'
Then Cymoënt begged Marinell to tell her which of the sea-nymphs it was
that he loved.
'Whoever she is that you love,' she said, 'I shall help you to gain her
for your wife.'
So Marinell told his mother that it was no nymph of the sea that had given
his heart a deeper wound than ever Britomart's spear had dealt.
'I love Florimell,' he said, 'and she lies, a dreary prisoner, in the
darkest cave of the Herd of the Seas.'
At first Cymoënt was sorry, for she did not wish her son to wed a maiden
from the land. But when she knew how much Marinell loved Florimell, she
went to Neptune, the King of all the Seas, as he sat on his throne, his
three-pronged mace in his hand, and his long hair dripping with brine.
To him she told all the tale of Marinell and Florimell and the wicked old
shepherd.
And Neptune wrote a royal warrant, and sealed it with the seal of the Sea
Gods, commanding his shepherd to give up Florimell at once to Cymoënt the
sea-nymph.
Thankfully Cymoënt took the warrant, and swiftly swam to the shepherd's
sea-caves.
The shepherd was very angry, but all the sea-folk had to obey Neptune, so
he sulkily opened the prison door and let Florimell go free.
When the black-browed Cymoënt took hold of the little white hand of the
maiden her son loved, and looked on her lovely face, she was no longer
sorry that Marinell did not wish to marry a sea-nymph. For no maiden in
the sea was as beautiful or as sweet as Florimell.
She led Florimell to her bower, where Marinell lay so pale and weak and
sad. And when Marinell saw Florimell standing blushing beside him, her
hand in his mother's, all his sadness went away and his strength came
back, and the pain in his heart was cured.
And if you listen some night when the stars are out, and the moon has made
a silver path on the sea, you will hear the little waves that swish on the
shore softly murmuring a little song. And perhaps, if your ears are very
quick, and the big waves' thunder does not drown the sound of their
melody, you may hear them whispering the names of two happy lovers,
Florimell and Marinell.
VIII
FLORIMELL AND THE WITCH
In Fairyland, where all the knights are brave, and all the ladies
beautiful, the lady who was once the most beautiful of all was called
Florimell.
Many knights loved Florimell and wished to marry her. But Florimell loved
only one, and he was Marinell, the son of a sea-nymph and a fairy knight
And Marinell loved no one, not even Florimell.
Marinell was a bold knight, who had no sooner fought one fight than he was
ready for another.
One day there was brought to the court news of his latest fight.
Britomart, the maiden who feared no one, and who wore man's armour and
carried a magic spear, had fought with Marinell, and Marinell was dead. So
said they who brought the news.
'What will Florimell do?' whispered the court ladies, one to the other.
And all the knights were sad at heart for beautiful Florimell.
When Florimell was told what had befallen Marinell, she rose up from where
she sat.
'I go to find him,' she said. 'Living or dead, I will find Marinell.'
Florimell had long, long golden hair. Florimell's eyes were blue as the
sky, and her cheeks were pink, like the sweetest rose in the garden. A
circlet of gold and jewels crowned her head. She mounted her snow-white
palfrey with its trappings of gold, and rode away through the green woods
to look for Marinell.
Four days she rode, but she did not find him. On the fourth day, as she
passed through a lonely forest, a wicked robber saw her. He rode after her
with his heavy boar-spear, and drove his spurs into the sides of his tired
horse till the blood ran down.
When Florimell saw him, she made her palfrey gallop. Off it flew, like the
wind, with the thud of the other horse's hoofs and the crash of branches
to urge it on.
Florimell's golden hair flew behind her, till it looked like the shining
track of a shooting star. Her face was white, and her frightened eyes
shone like crystal.
Some knights who saw her flash through the trees on her white palfrey,
like a streak of light, thought that she must be a spirit.
[Illustration: Florimell's golden hair flew behind her (page 102)]
But when they saw the ugly robber on his panting horse, they knew that he
was real enough. They rode hard after him, and frightened him so much that
he hid himself in the thickest part of the forest.
Florimell passed the knights without seeing them. And even after the
robber had ceased to follow her, she fancied that she heard his rough
voice and the thud of his horse's hoofs, and made her white palfrey go
faster and yet more fast.
At last, as the palfrey tossed its head in its stride, it jerked the reins
from out her tired little hands, and went on where it pleased.
All through the night they fled. The wild deer ran, startled, before them,
and all the other beasts of the woods wondered at the sight of a white
palfrey that galloped where it would under the grey boughs of the forest,
carrying a lady whose hair gleamed like gold in the light of the stars.
When rosy dawn had come, the horse stopped at last, too tired to do
anything but stand and pant with foam-flecked mouth and heaving sides.
Then Florimell got off his back and coaxed him slowly on.
When they had wandered thus for hours, they came to a hill that shaded a
thickly wooded valley. Over the tops of the tall trees in the valley
Florimell saw a little blue curl of smoke. Glad at heart to think of
finding a shelter and resting-place for her horse and herself, she led her
palfrey towards it.
In a gloomy glen she found a little cottage built of sticks and reeds and
turf. A wicked, ugly old witch and her wicked, ugly son lived in this hut.
When Florimell came to the door, the old woman was sitting on the dusty
floor, busy with some of her evil magic. When she looked up and saw
beautiful Florimell, with her golden hair, and her face like a drooping
white lily, she got a great fright. For she thought that Florimell was a
good spirit come to punish her for all the bad things she had done.
But Florimell, with tears trickling down and making her face look like a
lily in the dew, begged her, in gentle, pleading words, to give her
shelter.
And so gentle and beautiful and sorrowful was Florimell, that, for the
first time in the whole of her wicked life, the old witch felt some pity
in her cruel heart. She told Florimell not to cry, and bade her sit down
and rest. So Florimell sat down on the dusty floor and rested, as a little
bird rests after a storm. She tried to tidy her robes that were rent by
the branches and briars through which she had passed, and she smoothed her
hair, and arranged her sparkling jewels.
The old hag sat and stared at her, and could not say a word, so much did
she marvel at Florimell's wondrous beauty.
When it was midday, the witch's son came in. At the sight of Florimell he
was as frightened as his mother had been, and stared in wonder and in
fear. But Florimell spoke to them both so gently and so kindly that soon
they no longer feared her.
She stayed with them in the wretched little hut for some time. And in that
time the witch's son came to love her, and to long to have her for his
wife. He tried to do everything that he thought would please her. He would
bring her from the woods the rosiest of the wild apples, and the prettiest
of the wildflowers he made into garlands for her hair. He caught young
birds and taught them to whistle the tunes she liked, and young squirrels
he caught and tamed and gave to her.
But Florimell feared both him and his wicked old mother. When her palfrey
had rested, and grazed on the grass in the glen until it was quite strong
once more, at daybreak one morning she put its golden trappings on again
and rode away. She shivered at each shadow, and trembled at each sound,
because she was so afraid that the witch or her son would follow her.
But these two wicked people slept until it was broad daylight and
Florimell was far away. When they awoke and found her gone, they were
furiously angry, and the witch's son was so frantic that he scratched his
own face and bit himself, and tore at his rough long hair.
'I shall bring her back, or else kill her!' said the witch.
Then she went to a dark cave, and called out of it a horrible beast like a
hyena. Its back was speckled with a thousand colours, and it could run
faster than any other beast.
'Fetch Florimell back to me!' said the witch, 'or else tear her in
pieces!'
Off the beast rushed, and before long it saw Florimell on her white horse
riding through the trees.
There was no need to make the palfrey gallop when it saw the hideous beast
with long, soft strides coming swiftly after it. The white palfrey went as
fast as a race-horse, but the beast went as fast as the wind. As they came
out of the forest, the beast's hot breath was close behind Florimell. And
by that time her horse was so tired that its pace slackened. They had come
to where there were no more trees, and in front of them lay yellow sand,
and a long, long stretch of blue-green sea. When Florimell saw the sea,
she leaped from her tired horse and ran and ran.
'I had rather be drowned,' she thought, 'than be killed by that loathsome
monster.'
Now, an old fisherman had been drying his nets on the sand, and while they
dried he slept in the bottom of his little boat, that lay heaving gently
up and down in the shallows.
When Florimell saw this boat, she ran towards it and jumped in, and, with
an oar, pushed it off into deeper water. The beast got to the water's edge
just too late, for it was afraid of the sea and dared not follow her. In a
rage it fell upon the white palfrey and tore it in pieces, and was eating
it when a good knight who knew Florimell passed that way. He knew that the
white horse was Florimell's, so he attacked the beast, and cut it and
struck it so furiously with his sword that all its strength was beaten out
of it and he could easily have killed it. But the knight thought that he
would rather catch the strange beast and lead it home with him.
Lying on the sand near the dead white palfrey, he saw a golden girdle that
sparkled with jewels, and that he had seen worn by Florimell. With this
girdle he bound the beast, and led it after him like a dog. As he led it,
he met a wicked giantess, and while he fought with her the beast escaped
and ran away back to the witch's hut.
When the witch saw Florimell's jewelled girdle she was glad, for she
thought that the beast must have killed Florimell. She ran with it to her
son, but the sight of it, without Florimell, made him so angry that he
tried to kill both the beast and his mother. The witch was so frightened
that she set all her magic to work, to try to comfort her son. With snow
and mercury and wax she made an image as like Florimell as she could. Its
cheeks were rosy, like Florimell's, and she took two little burning lamps
and put them in silver sockets, so that they looked just like Florimell's
bright eyes. Her hair she made of the very finest golden wire. She dressed
the image in some clothes that Florimell, in her flight, had left behind
her, and round its waist she fastened Florimell's jewelled girdle. Then
she put a wicked fairy inside the image, and told him to do his very best
to act and to talk and to walk like Florimell. This image she then led to
her son, and he thought it was the real Florimell come back, and was
delighted. The false Florimell was not afraid of him as the real Florimell
had been, and would walk in the woods with him, and listen, quite pleased,
to all that he had to say.
But as they were in the forest one day, a bad knight saw them, and thought
the false Florimell so beautiful that he seized her and rode away with
her, and left the witch's son more sad and angry than ever.
When the real Florimell had escaped from the beast, the little boat that
she pushed off from the shore went gaily sailing onward and onward with
the tide. They were far out at sea when the old fisherman awoke. He got a
great fright when he found himself far from the shore, and with a lovely
lady beside him. But he was a very bad old man, and when he saw
Florimell's fine jewels and beautiful clothes he thought he would rob her.
He knocked her down into the bottom of his boat amongst the fishes'
scales, and might have killed her, had not Florimell screamed and screamed
for help. There was no ship near, and the waves and the sea-birds could
not help her.
But it chanced that the shepherd of all the flocks in the sea was driving
his chariot that way. He was an old man with long white hair and beard.
Sometimes on a stormy day one may see him far out at sea, as he drives his
flocks that look from far away like snowy froth and foam.
When the shepherd saw the wicked fisherman struggling with Florimell, he
beat the old robber so hard with his staff that there soon was very little
life left in him. Then he lifted Florimell, all tearful and trembling,
into his chariot. When she could only cry, he gently kissed her. But his
lips were frosty cold, and icicles from his long white beard dropped on to
her breast and made her shiver.
He took her to his home in a hollow rock at the bottom of the sea, and he
asked her to be his wife.
'I cannot marry you,' said Florimell. 'I do not love you. My only love is
Marinell.'
Then the cunning old shepherd by magic made himself look like a fairy
knight, and thought that Florimell would love him.
'I do not love you. I love Marinell,' still was Florimell's answer.
He then tried to frighten Florimell and make her marry him, whether she
would or not. He turned himself into dreadful shapes--giants, and all
sorts of animals and monsters. He went inside the waves, and made
terrifying storms rage. But nothing that he might do would make Florimell
consent to marry him.
At last he imprisoned her in a dark cavern.
'She will soon tire of that, and then she will marry me,' said he to
himself.
But Florimell said the more, 'I love only Marinell. I am glad to suffer,
because I suffer for Marinell's dear sake.'
She might have died there, and been buried under the sea-flowers of
scarlet and green, and had the gay little fishes dart over her grave, and
none might ever have known.
But, by happy chance, Marinell came that way. He heard her voice coming
out of her prison far beneath the sea, like the echo of a sad song, and
suddenly he knew that he loved her.
The sea-nymph, his mother, told Neptune, King of the Seas, that his
shepherd had imprisoned a beautiful maiden in his darkest cave, and begged
him to set Florimell free, that she might become Marinell's wife.
So Florimell was set free at last, and all her troubles were ended.
Marinell took her away from the kingdom under the sea back to Fairyland,
and they were married in a castle by the golden strand. Every beautiful
lady and every brave knight in Fairyland was there. They had tournaments
every day, and each knight fought for the lady he thought the most
beautiful and loved the best.
Marinell was victor in every fight but one, and in this he was beaten by
another brave knight. This knight had on his shield a device of a blazing
sun on a golden field.
When he had fought and won the prize, this shield was stolen from him by
the wicked knight who had run away with the false Florimell. No one could
see the faces of the knights, for their helmets covered them. So when the
wicked knight came forward, carrying the blazing shield, and pretended
that he had won the prize, Florimell, who was queen of the revels, handed
him the victor's garland, and praised him for having fought so well.
'I did not fight for you!' roughly answered the knight. 'I would not fight
for you! I fight for one more beautiful.'
Florimell blushed for shame, but before any one could answer him, the
knight drew forward the false Florimell and threw back her veil.
And even Marinell could not tell that she was not his own beautiful bride
that he loved so dearly, so exactly like the real Florimell had the witch
made the image.
Just then the knight whose shield had been stolen pushed through the
crowd.
'You false coward with your borrowed plumes!' he cried. 'Where is the
sword you pretend that you fought with? Where are your wounds?'
With that he showed his own bloody sword, and his own bleeding wounds, and
every one knew that the wicked knight had lied when he said that it was he
who had won the fight.
'This is not the real Florimell!' said the brave knight of the blazing
shield, pointing at the image. 'It is a wicked fairy, who is a fit mate
for this base coward. Bring forward Florimell the bride, and let us see
them side by side!'
So Florimell, blushing till her face looked like a nosegay of roses and
lilies, was led forward, and stood beside the image of herself. But no
sooner did she come near the image, than the image melted away, and
vanished altogether. Nothing of it was left but the girdle of gold and
jewels that Florimell had lost on the day she escaped from the witch's
hut. And this the brave knight picked up, and clasped round Florimell's
waist. The wicked knight had his armour taken from him, and was beaten
until he ran howling away.
And Florimell, the fairest lady in all Fairyland, lived happily ever after
with her gallant husband, Marinell, the Lord of the Golden Strand.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, LTD.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stories from the Faerie Queen, by
Edmund Spenser and Jeanie Lang
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES FROM THE FAERIE QUEEN ***
***** This file should be named 41350-8.txt or 41350-8.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/3/5/41350/
Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive.)
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809
North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email
contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
[email protected]
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
