> - v This is a reproduction of a book from the McGill University Library collection. Title: The seven champions of Christendom Author: Johnson, Richard, 1573-1659 Publisher, year: London : James Blackwood, [1861] The pages were digitized as they were. The original book may have contained pages with poor print. Marks, notations, and other marginalia present in the original volume may also appear. For wider or heavier books, a slight curvature to the text on the inside of pages may be noticeable. ISBN of reproduction: 978-1-926748- 37-5 This reproduction is intended for personal use only, and may not be reproduced, re-published, or re- distributed commercially. For further information on permission regarding the use of this reproduction contact McGill University Library. McGill University Library www.mcgill.ca/library LONDON: JAMES BLACKWOOD AND CO., PATERNOSTER ROW. THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS OF CHRISTENDOM. By RICHARD JOHNSON. ILLUSTRATED BY EDWARD H. CORBOULD. LONDON : JAMES BLACKWOOD & CO., Paternoster Row. GLASGOW : DUNN AND WRIGHT, PRINTERS. PREFACE No Work, perhaps, has been more extensively read, and more generally appreciated, than “The Famous Historie op the Seven Champions of Christen- dom ; ” indeed, it is impossible to tell how much this extraordinary production of a comparatively unknown author, may have influenced the early literature of the country. It undoubtedly inspired the poet Spenser, — the first book of whose “ Faery Queen ” is founded on the first part of the “ Champions ; ” and it is gene- rally believed that Shakspeare was as familiar with this work of Richard Johnson as with those of Plu- tarch or Chaucer. In the absence of any particulars of his life, we can only gather from the works attributed to him, that Richard Johnson was an author of repute, towards the end of the sixteenth or beginning of the seven- teenth centuries. Although the “Seven Champions” is the work by which he is best known, he wrote or compiled several volumes of ballads and romances. The first part of the “Seven Champions” was pro- bably published in 1576, and the second part some time before 1580. IV PREFACE. The materials which Johnson has so skilfully worked up into a history, equally poetic and romantic, he doubtless found in the traditional tales and knight- errantry common in his day throughout Europe, and which have been largely drawn upon by the romance writers of other countries. There are occasional de- tails and allusions in the original version, which, although, if judged by the standard of the period, they could not fairly be objected to, have been omitted in the present edition, as perhaps too coarse for the more sensitive modern reader; and the work generally has been slightly condensed, where this could be done without affecting the continuity of the narrative. It is believed that, in its present form, the “ Famous Historie” will be acceptable to many who have but a dim recollection of the fascination of its pages before the existing phalanx of modern novels had almost driven it from the field, and will be welcome reading to the youth of both sexes who have had no farther opportunity of making the acquaintance of its heroes than that afforded by the exploits of St George and the Dragon in the arena of an amphitheatre. Loudon, November , 1861 . CONTENTS CHAPTER I. PaGB The STRANGE and WONDERFUL Birth of St George of England. His being Stolen from his Nurse by Kalyb, the Lady of the Woods. Her Love to him, and her Gifts. He en- closes her in a Rock of Stone, and redeems six Christian Knights out of prison, 1 CHAPTER II. St George blays the Burning Dragon in Egypt, and redeems Sabra, the King’s Daughter, from death. Is betrayed by Axmidor, the Black King of Morocco, and sent to tee Soldan of Persia, where he slew two lions, and remained seven years in prison, 9 CHAPTER IIL St Denis, the Champion of France, lives Seven Years in the bhape of a Hart ; and proud Eglantine, the King of Thes- saly’s Daughter, is transformed into a Mulberry Tree. They recover their former shapes by means of St Denis’s Horse, and travel to the Thessalian Court, ... 29 CHAPTER IV. How St James, the Champion of Spain, continued Seven Years Dumb for the Love of a fair Jewess, and how he would have been Shot to Death by the Maidens of Jerusalem ; with other things which happened in his Travels, . . 8S CHAPTER V. The terrible Battle between St Anthony, the Champion of Italy, and the Giant Blandbron ; and afterwards of his strange Entertainment in the Giant’s Castle by a Thra- cian Lady, and what happened to him in the same Castle, 48 CHAPTER VI. How St Andrew, the Champion for Scotland, travelled into a vale of walking Spirits ; and how he was set at liberty BY A MOVING FIRE. Of HIS JOURNEY INTO THRACIA, WHERE HE restored the Six Ladies to their Natural Shapes, that HAD LIVED Seven Years in the likeness of Milk-white Swans; with other accidents that befell this most noble Champion, 01 CHAPTER VII. How St Patrick, the Champion of Ireland, redeemed the Six Thracian Ladies out of the hands of Thirty bloody- minded Satyrs, and of their purposed travel in a pursuit after the Champion of Scotland, 71 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIIL PagS How St David, the Champion oe Wales, slew the Count Pala- tine in the Court of Tartary; and, after, how he was SENT TO THE ENCHANTED CARDEN OF ORMANDINE, WHEREIN, BY MAGIC ART, HE SLEPT SEVEN YEARS, ..... 7o CHAPTER IX. How St George escaped out of prison in Persia, and of his fierce Battle with a giant ; also, how he redeemed the Champion of Wales from his Enchantment; with the tra- gical TALE OF THE NECROMANCER, ORMANDINE, . . . .81 CHAPTER X. How St George arrived at Tripoli, in Barbary, where he STOLE AWAY SABRA, THE KING’S DAUGHTER OF EGYPT, FROM THE BLACKMOOR KING ; AND HOW HER FIDELITY WAS KNOWN BY THE MEANS OF TWO LIONS ; AND WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM IN THE SAME ADVENTURE, Oi CHAPTER XI. How the Seven Champions arrived in Greece at the Empe- ror’s NUPTIALS, WHERE THEY PERFORM MANY NOBLE ACHIEVE- MENTS ; AND HOW, AFTERWARDS, OPEN WAR WAS PROCLAIMED against Christendom by many knights, and how every Champion departed into his own country, .... 106 CHAPTER XII. How the Seven Champions of Christendom arrived with all their troops in the Bay of Portugal. The number of the Christian Host. And how St George made an Oration to the Soldiers, 113 CHAPTER XIII. Of the Dissension and Discord that happened amongst the Army of the Pagans in Hungary. The Battle between the Christians and the Moors, in Barbary ; and how Al- midor, the Black King of Morocco, was S.calded to Death in a Caldron op Boiling Lead and Brimstone, . . . 121 CHAPTER XTV. How the Christians arrived in Egypt, and what happened to THEM THERE. The TRAGEDY OF THE EARL OF COVENTRY. How Sabra was bound to a Stake to be Burned ; and hOw St George released her. Lastly, how the Egyptian King cast himself from the top of a Tower, and broke his neck from grief for Sabra, 131 CHAPPER XV. How St George, in his Journey towards Persia, arrived in a country inhabited only by Amazons, where he achieved MANY STRANGE AND WONDERFUL ADVENTURES, .... 157 CHAPTER XVI. How S± George and his Lady arrived in Egypt; of their ROYAL ENTERTAINMENT IN THE ClTY OF GRAND CAIRO ; AND also how Sabra was crowned Queen of Egypt, . . . 107 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVIL The Bloody Battle betwixt the Christians and Persians; AND HOW THE NECROMANCER, OSMOND, RAISED UP, BY HIS MAGIC ART, AN ARMY OF SPIRITS TO FIGHT AGAINST THE CHRIS- TIANS ; how the Six Champions were enchanted, and RECOVERED BY ST GEORGE ? THE MISERY AND DEATH OP THE Conjurer; and how the Sold an dashed his brains against A MARBLE PILLAR CHAPTER XVIII. How St George and his Companions were entertained in the Famous City op London ; and, afterwards, how Sabra was Slain in a Wood by the Pricks op a Thorny Brake. St George’s Lamentation over her Bleeding Body; her Solemn Interment, and the Costly Monument erected by St George. And likewise of the Journey the Seven Champions undertook to Jerusalem, to visit the Sepul- chre of Christ, CHAPTER XIX. Of the adventure of the Golden Fountain in Damasco. How six of the Christian Champions were taken Prisoners by a Mighty Giant; and how, afterwards, they were Re- leased by St George. And, also, how he redeemed four- teen Jews out of prison. With divers other strange ACCIDENTS THAT HAPPENED, CHAPTER XX Of the Champions’ arrival at Jerusalem, and what befell them there; and afterwards, when they were almost Famished in a Wood, how St George obtained them Food in a Giant’s House by his valour: with other matters of interest, CHAPTER XXL What happened to the Champions after they had found an Image of fine Crystal in the form of a Murdered Maiden ; when St George had a Golden Book given him, wherein was written the True Tragedies of Two Sisters. And likewise how the Champions purposed a speedy revenge upon the Knight of. the Black Castle for the Death of the two Ladies, CHAPTER XXII. Of the preparations that the Knight of the Black Castle siade by Magic Art to withstand his Enemies; how the Seven Champions entered the Castle, and of their Furi- ous Encounters therein ; how they were Enchanted into a Deep Sleep; afterwards, how the Castle was Surren- dered to the Champions, CHAPTER XXIII. How, after the Christian Knights were gone to bed in the Black Castle, St George was awakened from his sleep in the dead time of the night, after a most fearful man- ner ; AND LIKEWISE HOW HE FOUND A KNIGHT LYING UPON A Tomb that stood over a Flaming Fire; as also of the sor- rowful Lady that came from under the tomb, . . CONTENTS. viii CHAPTER XXIV. PAGF Of the Tragical Discourse pronounced by the Lady in the Sepulchre, and how her Enchantment was finished by St George ; and how the Seven Champions of Christen- DOM RESTORED THE BABYLONIAN KING UNTO HIS KINGDOM, . CHAPTER XXV. Of the Triumphs, Tilts, and Tournaments, that were solemn^ ly held in Constantinople by the Grecian Emperor; of the honourable adventures that were there achieved by the Christian Champions, 25- CHAPTER XXVI. Of the Praiseworthy Death of St Patrick; how he Buried Himself ; and for what cause the Irishmen to this day wear a Red Cross upon St Patrick’s Day, . . . 260 CHAPTER XXVII. Of the Honourable Victory won by St David in Wales; of his Death, and the cause why Leeks are worn on St David’s Day by Welshmen, • • 233 CHAPTER XXVIII. How St Denis was Beheaded in his own Country; and how, by a Miracle shown at his Death, the whole Kingdom of France received the Christian Faith, 267 CHAPTER XXIX. Of the Splendid Church built by the Spanish Champion, St James, and of the Tyrannous Death the said Champion endured, 263 CHAPTER XXX. Of the Strange Sights beheld by the Italian Champion, St Anthony, and his honourable and worthy Death in the Chapel dedicated to him, 272 CHAPTER XXXI. Of the Martyrdom of St Andrew, the Scottish Ch amp ion; and how the King built a Monastery at the place where he buffered, .274 CHAPTER XXXII. Of the adventure performed by St George, and how he re- ceived his Death by the Sting of a Venomous Dragon. Of his honourable Interment in the City of Coventry ; and how the King decreed the Patron of the Land should be named St George, . 276 TUB SEVEN CHAMPIONS op CHRISTENDOM. CHAPTER I. Tho strange and wonderful birth of St George of England. His being stolen from his nurse, by Kalyb, the Lady of the Woods. Her love to him, and her gifts. He encloses her in a rock of stone, and redeems six Christian knights out of prison. After the angry gods had ruined the capital city of Phrygia, and turned king Priam’s glorious buildings to a waste and desolate wilderness, duke iEneas, driven from his native habitation, with many of his distressed countrymen, wandered about the world, like pilgrims, to find some happy region, where they might erect the Palladium, or image of their subverted Troy ; but be- fore that labour could be accomplished, iEneas ended his days in the confines of Italy, and left his son Ascanius to govern in his stead. Ascanius dying, left the sovereign power to Sylvius ; from whom it descen- ded to the noble and adventurous Brute, who being B 2 BIRTH OF ST GEORGE. the fourth in lineal descent from JEneas, first conquered this island of Britain, then inhabited with monsters, giants, and a kind of wild people, without any form of government. Thus began the island of Britain to flourish, not only in magnificent and sumptuous buildings, but in courageous and valiant knights, whose most noble and adventurous attempts in the- truly heroic feats of chivalry, Fame shall draw forth, and rescue from the dark and gloomy mansions of oblivion. The land was now replenished with cities, and divided into shires or counties ; dukedoms, earldoms, and lordships were the rewards of merit and noble services performed in martial fields, and not bestowed as bribes to enslave the state, or given to indulge the slothful pride and effeminacy of the flatterers of the prince. The ancient city of Coventry gave birth to the first Christian hero of England, and the first who ever sought adventures iu a foreign land ; whose name is to this day held in high esteem through all parts of Europe, and whose bold and magnanimous deeds in arms gave him the title of “ The valiant knight, St George of England,” whose golden garter is not only worn by nobles, but by kings, and in memory of whose victories the kings of England fight under his banner. It is the history of this worthy champion of our native country, that, by the assistance of the heavenly muse, divine Calliope, I have undertaken to write. Before his birth, his mother dreamed that she had conceived a dragon, which should cause her death. This frightful dream she long kept secret, till the pain- ST George’s father visits kalyb. o ful thought grew so heavy, that she was scarce able to endure it ; so taking an opportunity to disclose it to her lord and husband, then lord high steward of Eng- land, she struck such terror to his heart, that for a time he stood speechless ; but having recovered his lost senses, he answered in this sort : — “ My dearest and most beloved lady, what art and science can per- form, with all convenient speed shall be essayed ; for never will I close my eyes till I have found some skil- ful person, who will undertake to unfold the mystic meaning of these terrific dreams.” This noble lord, leaving his delightful partner in company with other ladies, who came to comfort her in her melancholy condition, took his journey to the solitary walks of Kalyb, the wise lady of the woods, attended only by a single knight, who bore under his arm a white lamb, which they intended to offer as a sacrifice to the enchantress. Thus travelling, for the space of two days, they came to a thicket beset about with old withered and hollow trees, wherein they were terrified by such dismal croakings of the night raven, hissing of serpents, bellowing of bulls, and roar- ing of monsters, that it seemed to bo rather the habi- tation of furies than a mortal dwelling ; here was the dark and dreary mansion of the enchantress, Kalyb, lady of the woods, in the midst of which she took up her abode, in a lonely cave, which had a strong iron gate at its entrance, whereon there hung a brazen trumpet for those to sound who wanted audience. The lord and knight, first offering their lamb with all humility before the postern of the cave, then casting off all fear, blew the trumpet, the sound of which seemed 4 KALYB STEALS ST GEOBGE. to shake the very foundation of the earth. After which, they heard a loud and hollow voice utter the following words : “ Sir Knight, from whence thou cam’st return! Thou hast a son most strangely horn ; A champion hold, from thee shall spring, WhoTl practise many a wondrous thing; Return, therefore, make no delay, For all is true that here I say.” This dark riddle, or rather mystic oracle, being thrice repeated in this order, so much amazed them, that they stood in doubt whether it were best to return, or sound the brazen trumpet a second time ; but the lord high steward, being persuaded by the knight not to move the impatience of Kalyb, rested content with the answer she had given them, and, quitting the enchanted cave, made all the speed he could to his native habi- tation. In the mean time, his lady, being over-anxious with extreme pain and anguish, gave up her own life, to save that of her infant. On his breast Nature had pictured the lively image of a dragon ; upon his right hand a blood-red cross, and a gold garter on his left leg. Ho was named George, and three nurses were provided for him ; one to nurse him, another to lull and rock him asleep, and the third to prepare his food. But not many days after his birth, the fell en- chantress Kalyb, being an utter enemy to all true nobility, by the help of charms and witchcraft, found means to steal away the infant from his careless nurses. The lord high steward of England at this time re- turning, how were his expectations frustrated! he DEATH OP ST GEORGE’S FATHER. 5 found his wife in her cold grave, and his son carried he knew not whither. The news of these disasters for a while bereaved him of his wits, and he stood senseless. He mourned many months for his loss, and sent messengers into every corner of the land to make in- quiry after his son ; but no man was fortunate enough to return with happy tidings. He, therefore, storing himself with gold and many precious jewels, resolved to travel the world over, to find what he wanted, or to leave his bones in some remote region. So leaving his native country, he wandered from place to place, with- out success, till, through care aud age, his locks were turned to silver grey, and his venerable beard became like down upon a thistle: at length, quite wearied out with grief and fruitless toil, he laid himself down close by the ruined walls of a decayed monastery in the kingdom of Bohemia, and there finished his inquiry and his life together. The common people of the country, coming to the knowledge of his name by a jewel he wore in his bosom, caused it to be engraven on a marble stone, right over the place where he was buried. And there we will leave him to sleep in peace, and return to his son, still kept by Kalyb, the lady of the woods, in her enchanted cave. And now twice seven times the sun had run his annual course since Kalyb had first in keeping the noble St George of England, whose mind often thirsted after honourable adventures, and who many times attempted to set himself at liberty; but the fell en- chantress, regarding him as the apple of her eye, ap- pointed twelve sturdy Satyrs to attend his person, so 6 KALYB FALLS IN LOVE WITH ST GEORGE. that neither force nor policy could further his intent. She kept him not to insult over as a slave, nor triumph in his wretchedness, but daily fed his fancy with all the delights that art or nature could afford; for she placed her whole felicity in him, and loved him for his beauty. But he, seeking glory from martial discipline and knightly achievements, utterly refused her proffered love, and highly disdained so wicked a creature. Whereupon she, seeing how much he neglected her, drawing him to a private part of the cave, began thus to court him: “ Thou knowest, divine youth, how eagerly I have sought thy love, and how I doat upon thy manly charms; yet thou, more crnel than the Lybian tiger, dost reject my sighs and tears. But now, my dear knight, if thou wilt but love me, for thy sake I will show all the power of my magic charms, move heaven, if thou requestest it, to rain down stones in showers upon thy enemies: I will convert the sun and moon to fire and blood, depopulate whole regions, and lay the face of nature waste.” Our noble knight St George, considering that love might blind the wisest, and guessing, by these fair pro- mises, that he might find an opportunity to obtain his liberty, made her this answer: “ Most wise and learned Kalyb, thou wonder of the world, I will condescend to all thy heart desires upon these conditions: That I may be sole governor and protector of this enchanted cave, and that thou dis- coverest to me my birth, my name, and parentage.” She very willingly consented to these terms, and began to answer his demands as follows: “Thou art KALYB ARMS ST GEORGE. ? by birth,” said she, ‘‘son to the lord Albert, high steward of England; and from thy birth to this day have I kept thee, as my own child, within these soli- tary woods.” So taking him by the hand, she led him into a brazen castle, wherein were imprisoned six of the bravest knights of the whole world. “ These,” said she, “ are six worthy champions of Christendom: the first is St Denis of France, the second St James of Spain, the third St Anthony of Italy, the fourth St Andrew of Scotland, the fifth St Patrick of Ireland, the sixth St David of Wales; and thou art born to be the seventh, thy name St George of England, for so shalt thou be named in times to come.” Then leading him a little farther, she brought him into a magnificent building, where stood seven of the most beautiful steeds that ever eye beheld. “ Six of these,” said she, “ belong to the six champions, and the seventh, whose name is Bayard, will I bestow on thee.” Then she led him to another apartment, where hung the richest armour in the world ; there choosing out the strongest corslet from her armoury, she with her own hands buckled it upon his breast, laced on his helmet, and dressed him in the armour: afterwards bringing forth a mighty falchion, she likewise pat it in his hand, and said to him : “ Thou art now clothed in richer armour than Ninus the first monarch of the world. Thy steed is of such force and invincible power, that whilst thou art mounted on his back, no kriight in the world shall be able to conquer thee. Thy armour is of the purest Lybian steel, that no battle-axe can bruise, nor any weapon can pierce. Thy sword, which is called Ascalon, was made by the 8 ST GEOEGE PUNISHES KALTB. Cyclops; it will liew in sunder the hardest flint, or cut the strongest steel ; and in its pummel there lies such magic virtue, that neither treason, witchcraft, nor any other violence can he offered to thee so long as thou wearest it. Thus the enchantress, Kalyb, was so blinded by the love she. had for him, that she not only bestowed all the riches of her cave upon him, but gave him power and authority, by putting a silver wand in his hand, to work her own destruction. For coming by a huge rock of stone, he struck it with this enchanted wand, whereupon it immediately opened, and exposed to view a vast number of young infants, whom the enchantress had murdered by her witchcraft and sorceries. “This said she, “ is a place of horror, where nought is heard but shrieks and groans of dying men and babes ; but if your ears can endure to hear, and eyes behold them, I will lead you that way.” So the lady of the woods, boldly stepping in before, and little suspecting any danger from the secret policy of St George, was de- ceived iu her own practices ; for no sooner had she entered the rock, but he struck the silver wand thereon, and it closed in an instant ; and there confined her to bellow forth her lamentable complaints to senseless stones, without any hope of being released. Thus this noble knight punished the wicked enchan- tress, Kalyb, and likewise set the other six champions at liberty, who rendered him all knightly courtesies, and gave him thanks for their safe deliverance. So pro- viding themselves with all things suiting their generous purposes, they took their journey from the enchanted grove. Their proceedings, fortunes, and heroical ad- ventures, shall be shown in the chapters following. CHAPTER II. £t George slays the burning dragon in Egypt, and redeems Sabra, the king's daughter, from death. Is betrayed by Ahnidor, the black king of Mo- rocco, and sent to the Soldan of Persia, where he slew two lions, and "re- mained seven years in prison. After the seven champions departed from the enchan- ted cave of Kalyb, they made their abode in the city of Coventry for the space of nine months ; in which time they erected a sumptuous monument over the remains of St George’s mother. And at that time of the year when Flora had embroidered the green mantle of the spring, they armed themselves like knights-errant, and took their journey to seek for foreign adventures, ac- counting nothing more dishonourable than to spend their time in idleness, and not achieve somewhat that might make their names memorable to posterity. So travelling thirty days without any adventures worth noting, at length they came to a broad plain, where stood a brazen pillar, and where seven several ways met, which the worthy knights thought a proper place to take leave of each other, and every one went a contrary road ; w r e will, for this time, likewise take leave of six, that we may accompany the fortunes of our English knight, who, after many months’ travel by sea and land, happily arrived within the territories of Egypt, which country was then greatly annoyed by a dangerous dragon. But before he had journeyed far in that kingdom, the silent night outspread her sable wings, and a still horror seemed to cover every part of nature. At length, he came to a poor old hermitage, wherein he proposed to seek some repose for himself and 16 ST GEORGE ARRIVES IN EGYPT. horse, till the rosy-fingered morning should again re- luminate the vault of heaven, and light him on his destined course. On entering the cottage, he found an ancient hermit, bowing under the weight of age, and almost consumed with holy watching and religious tears, to whom he thus addressed himself : “Father, may a traveller, for this night, crave shelter with you for himself and horse ; or can you direct me to any town or village to which I may proceed on my journey with safety.” The old man, starting at the sudden approach of St George, made him answer : “ Thatheneednottoinquire of his country, forhe knew it by his burgonet,” (for indeed thereon were engraved the arms of England.) “ But I sorrow,” continued he, “ for thy hard fortune, and that it is thy destiny to arrive in this our country of Egypt, wherein those alive are scarce sufficient to bury the dead ; such cruel devasta- tion is made through the land by a most terrible and dangerous dragon, now ranging up and down the country ; the raging appetite of which must every day be appeased with the body ofa virgin, whomhe swallow- eth down his envenomed throat ; and whenever this hor- rid sacrifice is omitted, he breathes such a pestiferous stench as occasions a mortal plague. And this having been practised for twenty-four years, there is not now one virgin left throughout all Egypt but the king’s daughter; and she, to-morrow, is to be made an offering to the dragon, unless there can be any brave knight found who shall have courage enough to en- counter him, and kill him; and then, the king hath promised to give such a knight his daughter, whose ST GfcORGE COMFORTS SABRA. 11 life he shall have saved, in marriage, with the crown of Egypt after his decease,” This royal reward so animated the English knight, that he vowed he would either save the king’s daugh- ter, or lose his own life in so glorious an enterprise. So taking his repose that night in the old man’s her- mitage, till the cheerful cock, the true messenger of day, gave him notice of the sun’s uprise, which caused him to buckle on his armour, and harness his steed with all the strong caparisons of war, he took hisjourney, guided only by the hermit, to the valley, where the king’s daughter was to be offered up in sacrifice. When he approached within sight of the valley, he saw at a distance the most amiable and beautiful virgin that ever eyes beheld, arrayed in a pure white Arabian silk, being led to the place of death, ac- companied by many sage and modest matrons. The courage of the brave English knight was so stimulated by this melancholy scene that lie thought every minute a whole day till he could rescue her from the threatened danger, and save her from the insatiable jaws of the fiery dragon; so advancing towards the lady, he gave her hopes that her deliverance was at hand, and begged her to return to her father’s court. The noble knight, like a bold and daring hero, then entered the valley where the dragon had his abode, who no sooner had sight of him, than his leathern throat sent forth a sound more terrible than thunder. The size of this fell dragon was fearful to behold, for, from his shoulders to his tail, the length was fifty feet ; the glittering scales upon his body were as bright as silver, but harder than brass ; Ms belly was of the colour of 12 FIGHT OF ST GEORGE WITH THE DRAGON. gold, and larger than a tun. Thus weltered he from his hideous den, and so fiercely assailed the gallant champion with his burning wings, that at the first en- counter he had almost felled him to the ground ; but the knight, nimbly recovering himself, gave the dragon such a thrust with his spear, that it shivered in a thousand pieces ! upon which, the furious dragon smote him so violently with his venomous tail, that he brought both man and horse to the ground, and sorely braised two of St George’s ribs in the fall; but he, step- ping backwards, chanced to get under an orange-tree, which had that rare virtue in it, that no venomous creature durst come within the compass of its branches ; and here the valiant knight rested himself, till he had recovered his former strength. But he no sooner felt his spirits revive, than, with an eager courage, he smote the burning dragon under his yellow burnished belly, with Ms trusty sword Ascalon ; and from the wound there came such an abundance of black venom, that it spouted on the armour of the knight, which, by the mere force of the poison, burst in two, and he himself fell on the ground, where he lay for some time quite senseless, but had luckily rolled himself under the orange-tree, where the dragon had not power to offer him any farther violence. The fruit of this tree was of that excellence, that whoever tasted it was imme- diately cured of all manner of wounds and diseases. Now it was the noble champion’s good fortune to recover himself a little by the pure aroma of the tree, and then he chanced to espy an orange which had lately dropped from it, by tasting of which he was so refreshed, that in a short time he was as sound as DEATH OF THE DBAGON. 13 when he began the encounter. Then knelt he down and made his humble supplication, that heaven would send him such strength and agility of body as might enable him to slay the fell monster; which being done, with a bold and courageous heart, he smote the dragon under the wing, where it was tender and without scale, whereby his good sword Ascalon, with an easy passage, went to the very hilt, through the dragon's liver and heart; from whence there issued such an abundance of reeking gore, as turned all the grass in the valley to a crimson hue; and the ground, which was before parched up by the burning breath of the dragon, was now drenched in the moisture that proceeded from his venomous bowels, the loss of which forced him to yield his vital spirit to the champion’s conquering sword. The noble knight, St George of England, having performed this, first paid due honour to the Almighty for his victory; and then, with his sword, cut off the dragon’s head, and fixed it on a truncheon made of that spear which, at the beginning of the battle, shi- vered in pieces against the dragon’s scaly back. During this long and dangerous combat, his trusty steed lay, as it were, in a swoon, without any motion; but the English champion now squeezing the juice of one of the oranges in his mouth, the virtue of it immediately expelled the venom of the poison, and he recovered his former strength. There was then in the Egyptian court, and had beeii for some time, Almidor, the black king of Morocco, who had long sought the love of Sabra, the king’s daughter; but by no policy or means could he accom- plish what his heart desired. And now, having less 14 TREACHEBY OF ALHIDOB. hope than ever, by the successful combat of St George with the dragon, he resolved to try the utmost power of art, and treacherously despoil the victor of his laurels, with which he falsely designed to crown his own temples, and thereby obtain the grace of the lady, who loathed his company, and more detested his per- son than the crocodile of the Nile. But even as the wolf barks in vain against the moon, so shall this fan- tastical and cowardly Almidor attempt in vain to seize the glory won by the English knight; although he had hired, by gifts and promises, twelve Egyptian knights to beset the valley where St George slew the burning dragon, who were to deprive him by force of the spoils of his conquest. Thus, when the magnanimous cham- pion came riding in triumph from the valley, expecting to have been received as a conqueror, with drums and trumpets, or to have heard the bells throughout the kingdom ringing with the joyful peals of victory, and every street illuminated with bonfires and blazing tapers; contrary to his expectation, he was met with atroop of armed knights, not to conduct him in triumph to the Egyptian court, but, by insidious baseness and treachery, to deprive him of his life, and the glory he Bad that day so nobly acquired by his invincible arms : for no sooner had he passed the entrance of the valley, than he saw the Egyptian knights brand- ishing their weapons, and dividing themselves, to intercept him in his journey to the court. So, tying his horse to a tree, he resolved to try his for- tune on foot, there being twelve to one ; yet did St George, at the first onset, so valiantly behave him- self with his trusty sword Ascalon, that, at one stroke, ST GEORGE ENTERS MEMPHIS. 15 he slew three of the Egyptian knights, and before the golden chariot of the sun had gone another hour in its diurnal course, some he had dismembered of their heads and limbs, and some he had cut in two, so that their entrails fell to the earth, and not one was left alive to carry home the news of their defeat. Almidor, the black king, stood the whole time of the battle on the top of a mountain, to behold the success of his hired champions ; but when he saw the dismal catastrophe of these mercenary knights, and how the good fortune of the English champion had carried the honour of the day, he cursed his destiny, and accused blind chance of cruelty in thus disappointing the hopes of his treacher- ous enterprise : but having a heart full fraught with malice and envy, he secretly vowed to himself that he would practise some other treachery to bring St George to destruction. So running before to the court of king Ptolemy, and without relating what had hap- pened to the twelve Egyptian knights, he cried out, “ Victoria, Victoria, the enemy of Egypt is slain ! " Upon which, Ptolemy ordered every street of the city of Memphis to be hung with rich arras and embroidered tapestry, and likewise provided a sumptuous chariot of massive gold, the wheels and other timberwork whereof were of the purest ebony; the covering, rich silk em- bossed with gold ; this, with a hundred of the noblest peers of Egypt, attired in crimson velvet, mounted on milk-white coursers, richly caparisoned, attended the arrival of St George, who was conducted in the most solemn manner into the city, all the loftiest as well as the sweetest instruments of music both going before and following after the resplendent chariot in which he was 16 S A bra’s LOVE FOR ST GEORGE. drawn to the court of king Ptolemy; where he surren- dered up the trophies of his conquest into the hands of the beauteous Sabra, who was so ravished with the noble person and princely presence of the English knight, that, for a time, she was scarcely able to speak; but having recovered herself, she took him by the hand, and led him to a rich pavilion, where she unbuckled his armour, and with the most precious salves soothed his wounds, and with fine linen cloths wiped off the blood ; after which, she conducted him to a rich repast, furnished with all manner of delicate meats, where the king her father was present, who inquired of his country, parentage, and name. After the banquet was over, he conferred on him the honour of knighthood, and put upon his feet a pair of golden spurs. But the Lovely princess, his daughter, could feast on nothing but the hopes of the champion’s love; and, having attended him to his night’s repose, she sat near his bed, and striking the melodious strings of her lute, lulled him to rest with the sweetest harmony that ever was heard. No sooner had the morn displayed her beau- ties in the east, and gilded with her radiant beams the mountain tops, than Sabra repaired to the English champion’s lodgings, and presented him with a dia- mond of inestimable value, which she prayed him to wear on his finger, not only as an ornament, but as it was endued with many most excellent and occult virtues. The next who entered the room was Almidor the treacherous black king of Morocco, having a bowl of Greek wine in his hand, which he offered to the noble champion St George of England ; but when he stretched forth his arm to accept the same, the dia- AL11ID0K ATTEMPTS TO POISON ST GEORGE. 17 mond, which the fair Sabra had made him a present of, waxed pale, and from his nose fell three drops of blood, which the king’s daughter observing, suspected some secret poison to be infused in the wine ; where- upon she shrieked out so loudly, and so suddenly, that it alarmed the whole court, and carried her suspicions to the ears of her father ; but so great was his love for the black king, that he would not give credit to any thing which could be suggested against him. Thus was Almidor a second time prevented in his evil designs, which made him more enraged than a chased boar; yet, resolving the third attempt should pay for all, he impatiently expected another opportunity to put his fiendish purposes in execution. St George remained many days at the Egyptian court, sometimes revelling among the gentlemen, danc- ing and sporting among the ladies, at other times in tilts, tournaments, and other noble and heroic exer- cises ; and all that time was the breast of the beauteous Sabra inflamed with the most ardent love for him, of which the treacherous Almidor had intelligence from many secret sources, and many times his own ears were witnesses to their meetings. One evening in particular, after sunset, it was his fortune to wander near a garden wall to taste the cooling air, where the two lovers, without seeing him, were seated in a bower of jessamine, and after much talk, he heard the love- sick Sabra thus complain : — “ My soul’s delight, my noble George of England, dearer than all the world beside, why art thou more obdurate than the flint, since all my falling tears can neyer mollify thy heart! Not all the sighs, the many c 18 MEETING OF ST GEORGE AND SABRA. thousand sighs, I have sent as messengers of my true love, were ever yet requited with a smile. Refuse not her, my dear-loved lord of England, refuse not her, that, for thy sake, would leave her parents, country, aud inheritance, although that inheritance be the crown of Egypt, and would follow thee as a pilgrim through the wide world. The sun shall sooner lose his splendour, the pale moon drop from her orb, the sea forget to ebb and flow, and all things change the course ordained by nature, than Sabra, heiress of Egypt, prove inconstant to St George of England ; let then, the priests of Hymen knit that gordian knot, the knot of wedlock, which death alone has power to untie.” These words so fired the champion’s heart, that he who before had never given way to any passion but the love of arms, was almost entangled in the snares of love. Yet, to try her patience a little more, he made her this answer : “Lady of Egypt, art thou not content that I have risked my own life to preserve yours, but you would have me also sacrifice my honour, give over the chase of dazzling glory, lay all my warlike trophies in a woman’s lap, and change my truncheon for a distaff. — No! Sabra; George of England is a knight, born in a country where true chivalry is nourished, and hath sworn to see the world, as far as the lamp of heaven can lend him light, before he is fettered in tDe chains of wedlock. Therefore, think no more of one that is a stranger, a wanderer from place to place, but cast yonr eyes on one more worthy your own high rank. Why do you decline the suit of Almidor, who is a king, and BETROTHAL OP ST GEORGE AND SABRA. 19 would think no task too arduous to obtain your l0V« ?” At which words, she instantly replied : “ The fell king of Morocco is more blood-minded than a serpent, but thou as gentle as a lamb; Ms tongue more ominous than the screeching night owl, but thine sweeter than the morning lark; his touch more odious than the biting snake, but thine more pleasant than the curling vine. What if thou art a stranger to our land, thou art more precious to my heart, and more delight- ful to my eyes, than crowns and diadems.” “ But stay,” replied the English champion: “lam a Christian, madam ; thou a Pagan. I honour God in heaven ; you, a vile impostor here below. Therefore, if you would obtaiit my love, you must forsake your Mohammed, and be baptized into the Christian faith.’’ “ With all my soul,” replied the Egyptian lady; “I will forsake my country’s gods, and for thy love become a Christian.” And thereupon she broke a ring, and gave him one half as a pledge of her love, and kept the other half herself ; and so, for that time went out of the garden. The treacherous Almidor, who had listened during all this discourse, was galled to the very heart to hear how much his mistress despised him and his proffered love ; but was now resolved to strike a bold stroke with the king her father, to separate her from his too successful rival; and, accordingly, hastened away to the Egyptian king, and, prostrating himself before him, declared that he had overheard a deep-concerted plan of treason, laid between his daughter and the English knight; that she had given him a solemn pledge of 20 ST GEORGE TREACHEROUSLY SENT TO PERSIA, love, and with that pledge a promise to forsake the faith of Egypt, set the great prophet at defiance, and embrace the Christian doctrine. “Now, by our holy prophet,” replied the king, “ this hated Christian shall not reap the harvest of our daughter’s love, for he shall lose his head, though not in our court, where we have heaped such honours on him. But, Almidor, be secret, and I will acquaint you with my purpose : I will send him to my kinsman, the Sol- dan of Persia ; from whom he shall never more return to Egypt, except his ghost bring tidings of his fate in that country.” And to answer this purpose they contrived between them the following letter ; ‘ To the Soldan of Persia, 1 1, Ptolemy, king of Egypt, and the eastern territories, send greeting to thee, the mighty Soldan of Persia, great emperor of the provinces of the larger Asia. I make this my request, trusting to the league of friendship between us, that thou put the bearer hereof, thy slave, to death ; for he is an utter enemy to all Asia and Africa, and a proud contemner of our religion. Therefore fail not hereof, as thou tenderest our mutual friendship. So we bid thee, farewell. ‘Thy kinsman, ‘ Ptolemy, King of Egypt.’ As soon as this letter was signed and sealed with the great seal of Egypt, St George was sent in embassy with the bloody sentence of his own destruction ; and was sworn, by the honour of knighthood, to deliver it safe ; leaving behind him, as a pledge of his fidelity, his good steed, and trusty sword Ascalon, iu the keeping of Ptolemy, taking with him only one of the king’s horses, for his easy travelling. ST GEORGE SLAUGHTERS THE PERSIAN KNIGHTS. 21 On the day that St George reached the Soldan’s court, there was a solemn procession in honour of the false prophet Mohammed, with which the English champion was so moved, that he tore down their ensigns and streamers, and trampled them under his feet: upon which the infidels presently fled to the Sol- dan for succour, and showed him how a strange knight had despised their prophet, and trod their banners in the dust. Whereupon he sent a hundred of his armed knights to know the cause of that sudden uproar, and to bring the Christian champion bound into his pre- sence ; but he entertained these Persian knights with such a bloody banquet, that most of their heads were tumbled in the dirty streets, and the channels over- flowed with streams of their blood ; the pavement before the palace was almost covered with slaughtered men, and the walls were besprinkled with purple gore. At last the alarm-bell was rung, and the beacons set on fire ; upon which the populace rose in arms, and came flocking about the English champion, like swarms of bees ; whereat, through his long fatigue, and the multitude of his enemies, his undaunted courage was forced to yield, and his resistless arm, wearied with the fight, constrained to let his weapon fall to the ground. And thus he, whose valour had sent thousands to wander on the banks of Acheron, stood now obedient to the mercy of his enemies, who, with their brandished weapons and sharp-edged falchions, environed him about. “Now, bloody-minded monster,” said the Soldan, “what countryman soe’er thou art, Jew, Pagan, or misbelieving Christian, look for a sentence of severe 22 st George’s interview with the soldan. punishment for every drop of blood thy unhappy hand hath here shed ; first, thy skin shall be flayed from off thy flesh alive; next, thy flesh shall be torn with red-hot pincers from thy bones : and lastly, thy limbs parted from each other by wild horses.” This bloody sentence being pronounced by the Soldan, St George answered in the following manner : “Great potentate of Asia, I crave the liberty and law of arms, whereby all the kings of the earth are by oath for ever bound. First, in my native country, my descent is of royal blood, and therefore I challenge a combat ; secondly, I am an ambassador from the mighty Ptolemy, king of Egypt ; therefore is my person sacred ; lastly, the laws of Asia, and indeed of all nations, grant me a safe conduct back ; and Ptolemy is answerable for every thing I have done.” Thereupon he delivered the letter, sealed with the great seal of Egypt, which was no sooner broken open and read, than the Soldan’s eyes sparkled with fire, and upon his brow sat the image of wrath and indigna- tion. “By the report of Ptolemy,” said the Soldan, “ thou art a great contemner of our holy prophet, fvnd his laws; therefore his pleasure is, that you be put to death; which, I swear by Mohammed, shall be fulfilled.” Upon this he gave him over to the safe custody of a hundred of his guards, till the time of execution, which was ordered to be in thirty days. Hereupon they dis- robed him of his rich apparel, and clothed him in base and servile weeds ; his arms, that were lately employed in supporting the mighty target, and wielding the ST GEORGE S ADVENTURE WITH THE LIONS. 23 weighty battle-axe, were now strongly fettered with iron bolts ; and those hands which were wont to be garnished with steel gauntlets, they bound with hempen cords, till the purple blood started from his fingers’ ends ; and being thus despoiled of all knightly dignity, he was conveyed to a dark dungeon where the light of heaven was never seen, nor could the glorious sun send one gladdening ray to show a difference betwixt day and night. All his comfort was to reckon np the number of Persians he had slain ; sometimes his rest- less thoughts were pondering onungratefulPtolemy, and sometimes running on the charms of lovely Sabra, distracted with reflecting how she had borne his sudden departure. Thus Sorrow was his companion, and Despair his chief solicitor, till Hyperion’s golden car had rested thirty times in the purple palace of Thetis ; which was the precise time allotted by the Soldan of Persia for him to live ; so expecting every minute the wished-for messenger of death, be heard afar off the terrible roar- ing of two lions, which for the space of four days had been restrained from food and natural sustenance, that with the more eagerness and fury they might satiate their hunger with the body of the thriced-renowned English champion. The cry of these lions so ter- rified his mind, that the hair of his head grew stiff ; on his brow were large drops of sweat, and in his soul arose such fire and rage, that with violence he broke his chains asunder, then rent his amber coloured hair from his head, with which he wrapped his arms, preparing for the assault of the lions, which he imagined were designed to be the executioners of the Soldan s sentence 24 DREAD Of THE SOLDAtt. against him, as indeed they were ; and at that instant the guards, who brought them, let them out of the dungeon upon him. But such was his invincible forti- tude, and so careful was he in his defence, that when the starved lions came running on him with open jaws, he courageously thrust his sinewy arms, which were covered with the hair of his head, into their throats, whereby they were presently choked, and he then pulled out their hearts. Which spectacle the Soldan’s guards beholding, were so amazed with fear, that they ran in all haste to the palace to acquaint the Soldan with what had happened, who thereupon commanded every part of the court to be guarded -with armed soldiers, supposing the English knight rather some monster, from the infernal regions, than one of the human species. And such tei’ror seized the Soldan, when he heard that he had killed the two lions, after having slaughtered two thousand Persians with his own hands ; and being likewise informed of his having destroyed the burning dragon of Egypt, that he caused the dungeon wherein he was kept, to be doubly fortified with iron bars, lest, by force or stratagem, the champion should recover his liberty, and thereby endanger the -whole kingdom of Persia. Here, for the term of seven winters, he re- mained in the greatest want and distress, feeding upon rats, and mice, and creeping worms, which he caught in the dungeon ; nor tasting, in that whole time, any bread but what was made of bran, and drinking only channel water, which was daily served him through the iron gates. Here we will now leave St George, languishing under want and oppression, and return to bESPAIE Oi’ SABEA. 25 Egypt, where we left Sabra, the champion’s betrothed lady, lamenting the absence of him whom she loved dearer than all the world besides. Sabra was the fairest virgin that ever eye beheld. In her nature had shown the utmost perfection ; her body was straighter than the stately cedar, and the tincture of her skin surpassed the beauty of the Paphian queen ; but one was bending with her weight of woes, and the other tarnished with the brackish tears that daily trickled down her cheeks, whereon sat the image of discontent, and she herself seemed a mirror of patient sorrow. All company was loathsome to her sight ; she shunned even the fellowship of those ladies who were once her most intimate companions, and betook herself to a solitary chamber, where, with her needle, she amused the time ; and having wrought the figures of many a bleeding heart, she bathed them -with the tears that fell from her eyes ; then, with her auburn locks that hung in wanton ringlets down her neck, she dried them up ; and thinking on the plighted promises of her deariy-loved knight, fell into these sad complain- ings : “0 Love!” said she, “more sharp than keenest razors, with what inequality dost thou torment my wounded heart, not linking my dear lord’s in like affection with it. OYenus! whom both gods and men obey, if thou art absolute in thy power, command my wandering lord to return, or let my soul be wafted to his sweet bosom, where my bleeding heart already is enshrined. But, foolish fondling that I am ! he hath rejected me, and even shuns my father’s court, where he was honoured and esteemed, to wander through the 26 ST GEORGE APPEARS TO SABRA. world to seek another love. No, no, it cannot be ; he is more constant, his mind more noble than to forget his plighted vows ; and much I fear some treachery has bereft me of him, some stony prison keeps him from me, for only chains and fetters could thus long with- hold him from me. If so, sweet Morpheus, god of golden dreams, reveal to me my love’s abode, show me in sleep the shadow of his lovely form, give me to know the reason of his sudden departure, and of his long and painful absence.” After this exclamation, she closed her radiant eyes in sleep, when presently the very image, as she thought, of her dearly-loved knight, St George, appeared ; not as he was wont, in shining arms, and with his burgonet of glittering steel, nor mounted on his stately steed, decked with a crimson plume of spangled feathers, but in worn-out and simple attire, with pale looks and emaciated body, like a ghost jnst risen from the silent grave, breathing, as it were, the following sad and woful expressions : Sabra, I am betrayed for love of thee, And lodged in cave as dark as night ; From whence I never more, ah woe is me! Shall have the pleasure of thy beauteous sight; Remain thou true and constant for my sake. That of my absence cone may ’vantage make. Let tyrants know, if ever I obtain What now is lost by treason’s faithless guile, False Egypt's scourge I ever will remain, And turn to streaming blood Morocco’s soil. That hateful prince of Barbary shall rue The fell revenge that is his treason's due. The Persian towers shall smoke with fire, And lofty Babylon be tumbled down; DISTRACTION OP SABRA. 27 The cross of Christendom shall then aspire To wear the proud Egyptian triple crown. Jerusalem and Judah shall hehold The fall of kings hy Christian champions bold. Thou maid of Egypt, still continue chaste, A tiger seeks thy virgin’s name to spoil ; Whilst George of England is in prison placed, Thou shalt he forced to wed against thy will ; But after this shall happen mighty things, For from thy self shall spring three wondrous kings. This strange and woful speech was no sooner ended, but she awakened from her sleep, and presently stretched out her arms, thinking to embrace him, but met with nothing bat empty air, which caused her to renew her former complaints. “ Oh ! wherefore died I not in this my troublesome dream,” said the sorrowful lady, “that my ghost might have haunted those inhuman monsters who have thus betrayed the bravest champion that the eye of heaven, or the sons of earth, have ever beheld ? For his sake will I exclaim against the ingratitude of Egypt, and fill every corner of the land with echoes of his wrongs. My woes are greater, and by far exceed the sorrows of Dido, queen of Carthage, mourning for iEneas.” At last, her father, understanding what ardent affec- tion she bore to the English champion, spoke to her in this manner : “Daughter, I charge thee, on the obedience and duty which thou owest to me, both as thy father and thy king, to banish from thy thoughts all fond affection for the wandering knight whom thou hast unworthily made the object of thy love, for he hath neither 28 SABRA FORCED TO 3IARRY ALMIDOR. home nor habitation. Thou seest he has forsaken thee, and in his travels is wedded to another. There- fore, as yon value my love, or dread my displeasure, I charge thee again to think no more of him ; but cast your eyes on the black king of Morocco, who is deserv- ing of thee, and whose nuptials with thee I intend to celebrate in Egypt shortly, with all the honours due to my own and his high rank.” Having said these words, he departed, without waitingfor an answer ; by which fair Sabra knew he was not to be thwarted in his will. Therefore she poured forth those sad words : “ 0 unkind father 1 to cross the affection of thy child, and thus force love where there is no liking; yet shall my mind continue true to my dearly-loved lord; although I be forced to obey, and marry Almidor, yet shall English George alone possess my heart. Which words were no sooner ended, than Almidor entered her chamber, and presented her with a -wed- ding-garment, which -was of the purest Median silk, embossed with pearls and glittering gold, and per- fumed with Syrian powders ; it was of the colour of the lily, when Flora has bedecked the fields in May with nature’s ornaments ; glorious and costly were her vestures, and so stately were the nuptial rites solemnized, that Egypt admired the grandeur of her wedding, which for seven days was held in the court of Ptolemy, and afterwards at Tripoli, the chief city of Barbary, where Almidor’s reluctant bride was crowned queen of Morocco ; at which coronation the conduits ran with Greek wine, and the streets of Tripoli were beautified with pageauts and delightful ST DENIS OP FRANCE. 29 shows. The court resounded with melodious harmony, as though Apollo with his silver harp had descended from the heavens ; such tilts and tournaments were performed betwixt the Egyptian knights and the knights of Barbary, that they exceeded the nuptials of Hecuba, the beautuous queen of Troy. These revellers we leave for this time to their own enjoy- ments, some masking, some dancing, some singing, some tilting, some banquetting. We also leave the champion of England, St George, mourning in his horrible dungeon in Persia, and return to the other six champions of Christendom, who departed from the brazen pillar, every one his several way, whose knightly and noble adventures, if the Muses grant me their assistance, I will most amply detail, to the honour of Christendom. CHAPTER III. fit Denis, the champion of France, lives seven year in the shape of a hart; and proud Eglantine, the king of Thessaly’s daughter, is transformed into a mulberry tree; they recover their former shapes by means of St Denis’s horse, and travel to the Thessalian court. We now call to mind the long and weary travels of St Denis, the worthy champion of France, after his departure from the other six champions at the brazen pillar, as you heard in the beginning of the former chapter, from which he wandered through many a deso- late grove and wilderness, without any adventure worth noting, till he arrived upon the borders of Thessaly, (at that time a land inhabited only by wild beasts ;) wherein he endured such a scarcity of victuals, that he 30 TRANSFORMATION Off ST DENIS. was forced, for the space of seven years, to feed upon the herbs of the field, and the fruits of trees, till the hairs of his head were like eagles’ feathers, and the nails of his fingers like birds’ claws ; his drink, the dew of heaven, which he licked from the flowers of the field ; his attire, the bay leaves and broad docks that grew in the wood ; his shoes, in which he travelled through many a thorny brake, the bark of trees. But at last, it was his fortune, or cruel destiny, (being overprest with the extremity of hunger), to taste and feed upon the berries of an enchanted mulberry tree, whereby he lost the lively form and image of his human substance, and was transformed into the shape and likeness of a wild hart ; which strange and sudden transformation, this noble champion little suspected, till he espied Ms misshapen form in a clear fountain, which nature had made in a cool and shady valley ; but when he beheld the shadow of his deformed body, and how his head, lately honoured with a burgonet of steel, was now dis- graced with a pair of sylvan horns ; his countenance, which was the index of his noble mind, now covered with the likeness of a brute : and his body, which was erect, tall, smooth, and fair, now bending to earth on four feet, and clothed in a rough hairy hide of a dusky brown colour ; having his reason still left, he ran again to the mulberry-tree, supposing the berries he had eaten to be the cause of his transformation, and there laying himself upon the ground, he thus began to complain : “What magic charms, or what bewitching spells,” said he, “are contained in this cursed tree, whose deceitful fruit hath confounded my future fortunes, FURTHER ADVENTURES OP ST DENIS. 31 and reduced me to this miserable condition ? O thou celestial Ruler of the world! O merciful power of heaven! look down with pity on my hapless state; incline thine ears to listen to my woes ; I, who was a man am now an horned beast ; a soldier, once my country’s champion, now a timorous deer, the prey of dogs; my glittering armour changed into a hairy hide, and my brave array, now vile as common earth ; henceforth, instead of princely palaces, these shady woods must be my sole retreat, wherein my bed of down must be a heapof sun-driedmoss; my sweetmusic, blustering winds, that with tempestuous gusts make the whole wilderness tremble ; the company I am obliged henceforth to keep, must be the Sylvan Satyrs, Driads, and airy Nymphs, who never appear to human eyes, but at twilight or the midnight moon ; the stars that beautify the crystal vault and wide expanse of heaven, shall hereafter serve as torches to light me to my woful bed ; scowling clouds shall be my canopy ; and my clock, to give me notice how the time runs stealing on, the dismal sounds of hissing snakes or croaking toads ! ” Thus during many days this champion of France con- tinued in the shape of a hart, in greater misery than the unfortunate English champion in Persia, not know- ing how to recover his former shape and human sub- stance. But one day, as he lamented the loss of his natural form, under the branches of that enchanted mulberry-tree, which was the cause of his transforma- tion, he heard a most grievous and terrible groan, upon which, suspending his sorrows for a time, he heard a hollow voice breathe from the trunk of the tree the fol- lowing words : 82 THE LADY IN THE TREE. Cease to lament, thou famous man of France, With gentle ears come listen to my moan; In former time it was my fatal chance To be the proudest maid that e’er was known ; By birth I was the daughter of a king, Though now a breathless tree, and senseless thing. My pride was such that heaven confounded me— A goddess in my own conceit I was: What nature lent, too base I thought to be, But deemed myself all others to surpass; And therefore nectar and ambrosia sweet, The food of heaven, for me I counted meet. My pride despised the finest bread of wheat. And purer food I daily sought to find! Refined gold was boil’d, and formed my meat, Such self-conceit my senses all did blind ; For which the gods above transformed me From human substance to this senseless tree. Seven years in shape of hart thou must remain, And then the purple rose, by Heaven’s decree, Shall bring thee to thy former shape again, And end at last thy woful misery; When this is done, be sure you cut in twain This fatal tree wherein I do remain. After he had heard these words he was so much amazed at the strangeness thereof, that for some moments he was deprived of speech ; and the thoughts of his long-continued punishment bereaved him of his understanding ; but at last, recovering his senses, he bitterly complained of his misfortunes. “ Oh ! unhappy creature,” said the distressed cham- pion, “more miserable than Progne iuher transforma- tion, and more unfortunate than Actson, whose perfect picture I am made ! His misery continued but a short time ; for his own dogs, the same day, tore him into FAITHFULNESS OF ST DENISES STEED. 33 a thousand pieces, and buried his transformed carcass in their hungry bowels ; but mine is appointed by the angry destinies, till seven times the summer’s sun shall yearly replenish its radiant brightness, and seven times the winter’s rain shall wash me with the showers of heaven.” Such were the complaints of the transformed knight of Prance, sometimes remembering his former fortunes, how he had spent his days in the honour of his country; at other times thinking upon the place of his nativity, renowned France, the nurse and mother of his youth ; and again treading with his foot (for hands ho had none) in sandy ground, the print of the words which he had heard from the mulberry-tree, and often times numbering the minutes of his tedious punishment. But during the whole term of his seven years’ misery, his trusty steed never once forsook him, but with all love and diligence attended on him day and night, never straying from his side; and if extreme heat in summer, or pinching cold in winter, grew troublesome to him, his horse would shelter and defend him. At last, after the term of seven years had fully expired, when he was to recover his former substance and human shape, his good horse, which he regarded as the apple of his eye, clambered a high and steep mountain, which nature had beautified with all kinds of fragrant flowers, as odoriferous as the gardens of the Hesperides; from whence he pulled a branch of purple roses and brought it betwixt his teeth to his distressed master, still lying in the same disorder and discontent, under the mulberry-tree. The champion of France no sooner beheld this, than he remembered D 34 BETRANSFORMATION OP ST DENIS. that by a purple rose he should recover his former shape, and so joyfully received the roses from his trusty steed ; then casting his eyes up to heaven, he conveyed these consecrated flowers into his empty stomach. After which he lay down upon the bosom of his mother earth, where he fell into such a sound sleep, that all Ms senses and vital spirits ceased to perform their usual offices for the space of four-and-twcnty hours, in which time the windows and doors of heaven were opened, from whence descended such a shower of rain, that it washed away his hairy coat and beast-like shape ; his horned head and long visage were turned again into a lively countenance ; and all the rest of his members, arms, legs, hands, feet, fingers, toes, with all the rest of nature’s gifts, received their former shape. But when the good champion awakened from his sleep, and perceived the wonderful goodness of heaven, in transforming him to his human likeness, he first gave honour to Almighty God; next, blessed the ground whereon he had lived so long in misery ; then behold- ing his armour, which lay near him, quite stained, and almost spoiled with rust ; his burgonet and keen-edged sword besmeared over with dust; and lastly, ponder- ing in his mind the faithful service his trusty steed had done him, during the time of his calamity, whose sable- coloured mane hung frizzling down his brawny neck, which before was wont to be platted curiously with artificial knots, and his forehead, which was always beautified with a tawny plume of feathers, now dis- figured with overgrown hair, the good champion, St ST DENIS LIBERATES EGLANTINE. 35 Denis of France, was so grieved, that he stroked down liis jetty back till the hair of his body lay as smooth as Arabian silk ; he then pulled out his trusty falchion, which in so many fierce assaults, and dangerous. com- bats, had been bathed in the blood of his enemies, but by the long continuance of time lying idle, was now almost consumed with cankered rust, and by great labour and industry, he recovered its former beauty aDd brightness. Thus both his sword and horse, his martial furniture, and all other habiliments of war, being brought to their first and proper condition, the noble champion resolved to pursue his intended adventure in cutting down the mulberry-tree ; so taking his sword, which was of the purest Spanish steel, he made such a stroke at the root thereof, that at one blow he cut it quite asunder, from whence immediately flashed such a mighty flame of fire, that the mane was burnt from his horse’s neck, and even the hair of his own head would have been fired had not his helmet preserved it. No sooner was the flame extinguished, but there as- cended from the hollow tree a virgin, (in shape like Daphne, whom Apollo turned into a bay- tree,) fairer than Pygmalion’s ivory image, or the northern snow ; her eyes more clear than the icy mountains, her cheeks like roses dipped in milk, her lips more lovely than Turkish rubies, her alabaster teeth like Indian pearls, her neck seemed an ivory tower ; the rest of nature’s lineaments a stain to Juno, Pallas, or Venus : at whose excellent beauty, this valiant and undaunted champion was more astonished than at her wonderful transfor- mation ; for his eyes were ravished with such exceeding 36 EGLANTINE RECOUNTS HER BISTORT. pleasure, that liis tongue could remain no longer silent, but was forced to unfold the secrets of his heart, and in these terms he began to utter his mind : “ Thou most divine and singular ornament of nature !” said he, “ fairer than the feathers of the sylvan swan that swims upon Meander’s crystal streams, and far more beautiful than Aurora’s morning counte- nance, to thee, the fairest of thy sex, most humbly, and only to thy beauty, do I here submit my affections. Also I swear, by the honour of my knighthood, and by the love of my country of France, whether thou art an angel descended from heaven, or a fury ascended from the vast dominions of Proserpine ; whether thou art some fairy or sylvan nymph, which inhabits this fatal wood, or else an earthly creature, for thy sins transformed into this mulberry-tree ; I cannot judge. Therefore, sweet saint, to whom my heart must pay its due devotion, unfold to me thy birth, parentage, and name, that I may the bolder presume upon thy courtesies.” At which demand, this new-born virgin, with a shame-faced look, modest gesture, sober grace, and blushing countenance, began thus to reply : “ Sir knight, by whom my life, my love, and fortunes are to be commanded, and by whom my human shape and natural form are recovered ; first know, that I am by birth the king of Thessaly’s daughter, and my name was called for my beauty, proud Eglantine ; for which contemptuous pride, I was transformed into this mulberry-tree, in which green substance I have con- tinued fourteen years. As for my love, thou hast deserved it before all kuights in the world, and to thee do I plight that true promise before the Omnipotent ET DENIS DEPARTS WITH EGLANTINE. sr Judge of all things. And before that sacred promise shall be infringed, the sun shall cease to shine by day, the moon by night, and all the planets forsake their natural order.” At which words the champion gave her the courtesies of his country, and sealed her promises with a loving kiss. After which, the beautiful Eglantine weaved herself a garment of green rushes, intermixed with such variety of flowers, that it surpassed, in workmanship, the Indian maidens’ curious webs ; her curling locks of hair continued still of the colour of the mulberry-tree, and made her appear like Flora in her greatest royalty, when the fields are decked with nature’s tapestry. Thus, in green vestments, she is ready, in company of her true love, the valiant knight of France, to take her journey to her father’s court ; where, after some few days’ travel, they arrived safe, and were wel- comed according to their wishes, with the most hon- ourable entertainments. The king of Thessaly no sooner beheld his daughter, of whose strange transfor- mation he was ignorant, than he fell into a swoon through exceeding joy, but coming to his senses, he embraced her, and proffered such courtesy to the strange knight, that St Denis accounted him the mirror of chivalry, and the pattern of true nobility. After the champion was unarmed, his stiff and wearied limbs were bathed in new milk and white wine, he was conveyed to a sweet- smelling fire made of juniper, and the fair Eglantine conducted by the maidens of honour to a private chamber, where she was disrobed of her Sylvan attire, and apparelled in 38 ST JAMES OP SPAIN. long robes of purple silk. In tliis court of Thessaly we will leave our champion of France with his lady, and go forward to discourse of the other champions, relating what adventures happened to them during the seven years. CHAPTER IV. How St James, the champion of Spain, continued seven years dumb for the love of a fair Jewess, and how he would have been shot to death by the maidens of Jerusalem ; with other thing's which happened in his travels. Now must my muse speak of St James of Spain, the third champion, and what happened unto him in his seven years’ travels through many a strange country by sea and land, where his honourable acts were so dan- gerous and wonderful, that I want skill to express, and art to describe them. Also I am forced to pass over his dangerous battle with the burning drake upon the flaming mount in Sicily, which terrible combat con- tinued for the space of seven days and seven nights- Likewise I omit his travels in Cappadocia, through a wilderness of monsters ; his passage over the Red Sea, where his ship was devoured with worms, his mariners drowned, and himself, bis horse, and furniture, safely brought to land by the sea-nymphs and mermaids ; until after long travel, perils, and dangerous tem- pests, among the stormy billows of the raging seas, he arrived in the unhappy dominions of Judah ; unhappy by reason of the long and troublesome misery he endured for the love of a fair Jewess. For coming to the beautiful city of Jerusalem, (being in that age the ST JAMES ARRIVES AT JERUSALEM. 39 wonder of the world, for grand buildings, princely palaces, and wonderful temples,) he so admired its glorious situation, that he stood before the lofty walls, one while gazing upon her golden gates, glittering in the sun; another while beholding her stately pinnacles, whose lofty tops seemed to touch the clouds ; another while wondering at her towers of jasper, jet, and ebony, her strong and fortified walls, glittering spires of the temple of Sion, the ancient monument of Greece, whose battlements were covered with steel, the walls burnished with silver, the ground paved with tin. Thus, as this noble and famous knight stood beholding the situation of Jerusalem, there suddenly thundered such a peal of ordnance within the city, that it seemed, in his ravished conceit, to shake the veil of heaven, and to move the deep foundations of the solid earth; whereat his horse gave such a sudden start, that he leaped ten feet from the place whereon he stood. After this, he heard the sound of drums, and the cheerful echoes of brazen trumpets, by which the valiant champion ex- pected some honourable pastime or some great tour- nament to be at hand ; which indeed so fell out ; for no sooner did he cast his eyes towards the east side of the city, than he beheld a troop of well-appointed horse come marching through the gates ; after them twelve armed knights mounted on twelve warlike cours- ers, bearing in their hands twelve blood-red streamers, whereon was wrought in silk the picture of Adonis, wounded by a boar ; after them, the king, drawn in a chariot by Spanish mares. The king's guards were a hundred Moors, with Turkish bows and darts, feathered with ravens’ wings; after them came Celestine, the 40 PROCLAMATION OF KING NEBUZAR4DAN. king of Jerusalem’s fair daughter, mounted on a tame nnicorn. In her hand a javelin of silver, and armed with a breast-plate of gold, artificially wrought like the scales of a porcupine; her guard was one hundred Amazonian dames cladin green silk ; after them followed a number of esquires and gentlemen, some upon Bar- bary steeds, some upon Arabian palfreys, and some on foot, in pace more nimble than the tripping deer, and more swift than the tamest hart upon the mountains of Thessaly. Thus Nebuzaradan, the great king of Jerusalem, (for so he was called,) solemnly hunted in the wilderness of Judah, a country very much overrun with wild beasts, as the lion, the leopard, the boar, and such like ; in which exercise the king appointed, as it was pro- claimed by his chief herald at arms, that whosoever slew the first wild beast in the forest should have iu reward a corselet of steel, so richly engraven that it should be worth a thousand shekels of silver. Of which honour- able enterprise when the champion had understanding, and with what liberal bounty the adventurous knight would be rewarded, his heart was fraught with invincible courage, thirsting after glorious attempts, not only for hope of gain, but for the desire of honour, at which his illustrious and undaunted mind aimed, to immortalise his deeds in the memorable records of fame, and to shine as a crystal mirror to all ensuing times. So closing down his beaver, and locking on his furniture, he scoured the plains before the hunters of Jerusalem, in pace more swift than the winged winds, till ho approached an old unfrequented forest, wherein he espied a huge and mighty wild boar, lying before his ST JAMES SLAYS A HUGE BOAR. 41 mossy den, gnawing the mangled joints of some pas- senger whom he had murdered as he travelled through the forest. This boar was of wonderful length and size, and so terrible to behold, that at first sight he almost daunted the courage of the Spanish knight : for his monstrous head seemed ugly and deformed, his eyes sparkled like a fiery furnace, his tusks more sharp than pikes of steel, and from his nostrils fumed such a violent breath, that it seemed like a tempestuous whirlwind ; his bristles were harder than seven times solid brass, and his tail more loathsome than a wreath of snakes. When St James approached this huge beast, and beheld how he drank the blood of human creatures and devoured their flesh, he blew his silver horn, which hung at the pommel of his saddle by a scarf of green silk ; whereat the furious monster turned himself, and most fiercely assailed the noble champion, who very nimbly leaped from his horse, and with his spear struck such a violent blow upon the breast of the boar, that it shivered into twenty pieces ; then drawing his falchion from his side, he made a second encounter, but all in vain, for he struck as it were upon a rock of stone, or a pillar of iron, not hurting the boar ; when at last, with staring eyes and open jaws, the greedy monster assailed the champion, intending to swallow him alive, the nimble knight trusted more to. policy than fortitude, and so skipped from place to place, till on a sadden he thrust his keen-edged battle-axe down the monster's throat, and split his heart asunder. Which being ac- complished, he cut off the head, and so presented the issue of the combat to the king of Jerusalem, who, 42 ST JAMES CONDEMNED TO DIE. with his mighty train of knights, had now entered the forest. Having graciously received the gift, and bountifully fulfilled his promises, he demanded the champion’s country, his religion, and place of his nativity. But no sooner had he intelligence that he was a Christian knight, and born in the territories of Spain, than his kindness changed to a great fury, and in these words he expressed his anger to the Christian champion : “ Knowest thou not, bold knight,” said the king of Jerusalem, “ that it is the law of Judah to harbour no uncircumcised man, but either to banish him out of the land, or end his days by some untimely death ? Thou art a Christian, and therefore shalt die : not all thy country’s treasures, the wealthy Spanish mines, nor if the Alps, which divide the countries of Italy and Spain, were turned to hills of burnished gold, and made my lawful heritage, could redeem thy life. Yet for the honour thou has done in Judah I grant thee this favour by the law of arms, to choose thy death, else hadst thou suffered most grievous torment.” This severe judgment so amazed the champion, that, in desperation, he would have killed himself by his own sword, but that he thought it more honour to his country to die in the defence of Christendom. So, like a truly noble knight, fearing not the threats of the Jews, he gave the sentence of his own death. First, he requested to be bound to a pine-tree, with his breast laid open naked against the sun ; then to have an hour’s respite to make his sup- plication to his Creator ; and afterwards to be shot to death by a fair virgin. Which words were no sooner pronounced, than they CEr.ESTINE’S PITY FOR ST JAMES. 43 disarmed him, bound him to a pine-tree, and laid his breast open, ready to receive the bloody stroke of some unrelenting maiden : but such pity, meekness, mercy, and kind lenity lodged in the heart of every maiden, that none would take in hand, or be the bloody execu- tioner of so brave a knight. At last the tyrannous Nebuzaradan gave strict commandment, upon pain of death, that lots should be cast among the maids of Judah that were there present, and she on whom the lot fell should be the executioner of the condemned Christian. But by chance the lot fell to Celestine, the king’s daughter, being the fairest maid then living in Jerusalem, in whose heart no such deed of cruelty could be harboured. Instead of death’s fatal instru- ment, she shot towards his breast a deeply-drawn sigh, the true messenger of love, and afterwards to heaven she thus made her humble supplication : “ Thou great Commander of celestial moving powers, convert the cruel motions of my father’s mind into a spring of pitiful tears, that they may wash away the blood of this innocent knight from the habitation of his stained purple soul. 0 Judah and Jerusalem, within whose bosoms live a wilderness of tigers, more cruel than the hungry cannibals, and more obdurate than untamed lions ! What merciless tigers can unrip that breast, where lives the image of true nobility, the very pattern of knighthood, and the seal of a noble mind? No, no, before my hand shall be stained with Christians’ blood, I will, like Scylla, against all nature, sell my country’s safety, or, like Medea, with the golden fleece, wander to unknown nations.” In such manner complained the beauteous Celestine, 44 CELESTINE LIBERATES ST JAMES. the king’s daughter of Jerusalem, till her sighs stopped the passage of her speech, and her tears stained the natural beauty of her rosy cheeks; her hair, which glittered like golden wires, she besmeared with dust, and disrobed herself of her costly garments ; and then, with a train of her Amazonian ladies, went to the king her father, where, after a long suit, she not only ob- tained our noble champion’s life, but liberty ; yet therewithal his perpetual banishment from Jerusalem, and from all the borders of Judah. So this noble and praiseworthy Celestine returned to the Christian cham- pion, who expected every minute to be put to death ; and after she had sealed two or three kisses upon his pale lips, being changed through the fear of death, cut the bands that bound his body to the tree into many pieces; and then, with a flood of tears, the emotions of true love, she thus revealed her mind : “ Most noble knight, and true champion of Christen- dom, thy life and liberty I have gained, but therewith thy banishment from Judah, which is a thought of horror to my soul ; for in thy bosom have I built my happiness, and in thy heart I reckon the paradise of my true love ; thy first sight and lovely countenance did enchaut me ; for when these eyes beheld thee mounted on thy princely palfrey, my heart burned in affection towards thee. Therefore, dear knight, in reward of my love, be thou my champion, and for my sake wear this ring, with this poesy engraven in it, Ardeo afectione.” And so giving him a ring from her finger, together with a kiss from her mouth, she departed with a sorrowful sigh, in company of her father and the rest of his honourable train, back to the city of Jerusalem, being St JAMES ENTERS JERUSALEM. 45 then near sunset. But now St James, having escaped the danger of death, and at full liberty to depart, fell into many cogitations, one time thinking upon the true love of Celestine, (whose name as yet he was ignorant of,) another time upon the cruelty of her father; then resolving to depart into his own country, but looking back to the towers of Jerusalem, his mind suddenly altered, for thither he made up his mind to go, hoping to have sight of his lady and mistress, and to live in some disguised form in her presence, and be his love’s true champion against all comers. So gathering certain black berries from the trees, he coloured his body all over like a Blackmoor ; and con- sidering that his country’s speech would betray him, determined likewise to continue dumb all the time of his residence in Jerusalem. So, all things settled according to his desire, he took his journey to the city, where with signs he declared his intent, which was, to be entertained in the court, and to spend his time in the service of the king. When the king beheld his countenance, which seemed of the natural colour of the Moor, he little thought that he was the Christian champion, whom before lie greatly envied, but accounted him one of the bravest Indian knights that ever his eye beheld ; therefore he conferred on him the honour of knighthood, and appointed Mra to be one of his guard, and likewise his daughter’s sole champion. Now when St James saw himself invested in this honourable place, his soul was ravished with such exceeding joy, that he thought no pleasure comparable to his, no Elysium but the court of Jeru- salem, and no goddess but his beloved Celestine. 46 GRAND MASQUE AT THE COURT. He long continued dumb, casting forth many a loving sigh in the presence of his lady and mistress, not knowing how to reveal the secrets of his mind. Sometime after, there arrived in the court of Nebuz- aradan, the king of Arabia, with the admiral of Babylon, both presuming upon the love of Celestine, and craving her in marriage ; but she excluded all notions of love from her chaste mind, only building her thoughts upon the Spanish knight, whom she supposed to be in his own country. Her importunate suitors, the king of Arabia, and the admiral of Babylon, marvelled at her melancholy ; and therefore intended upon an evening to present her with some rare devised masque. So choosing out fit consorts for their courtly pastimes, of which number the king of Arabia was chief and first leader of the train, the great admiral of Babylon was the second, and her own champion, St James, called by the name of the “ Dumb Knight,” was the third. In this man- ner the masque was performed : First, a most excellent concert of music; after which the aforesaid masquers, in cloth of gold most curiously embroidered, danced about the hall ; at the conclusion the king of Arabia presented Celestine with a costly sword, on the hilt whereof hung a silver glove, and upon the point was placed a golden crown. Then the music sounded another course, of which the admiral of Babylon was leader, who presented her with a vesture of pure silk, of the colour of the rainbow, brought in by Diana, Venus, and Juno. Which being done, the music sounded the third time; in which course, St James, though unknown, was the leader of the dance, ST JAMES ESCAPES WITH CELESTINE. 47 and, at the end thereof, presented Celestine with a garland of sweet flowers, which was brought in by three Graces, and put upon her head. Afterwards the Christian champion, intending to discover himself unto his lady and mistress, took her by the hand, and led her to a stately Morisco dance, which was no sooner finished than he offered her the diamond ring which she gave him at his departure in the woods; this she presently knew by the poesy, and shortly after discovered his dumbness, his counterfeit colour, his changing of nature, and the great danger he put himself to for her sake ; which caused her, with all the speed she could possibly make, to retire into a chamber which she had by, where the same evening she had a long conference with her faithful lover and adventurous champion. To conclude, they made ad agreement betwixt them, and the same night, unknown to any in the court, she bade Jerusalem adieu, and by the light of Cynthia’s glittering beams, stole from her father’s palace, where, in the sweet company of St James, she took her journey towards the country of Spain. But this noble knight by policy prevented all likely danger, for he shod his horse backwards, whereby, when they were missed in the court, they might be followed the contrary way. By this means the two lovers escaped from the fury of the Jews, and arrived safely in Spain, in the city of Seville, wherein the brave champion, St James, was bom ; where we now leave them for a time to their own contented minds. Also passing over the disturb- ances in Jerusalem for the loss of Celestine, the vain pursuits of adventurous knights, the preparing of fresh 48 ST ANTHONY OF ITALY. horses to follow them, the frantic passion of the king for his daughter, the melancholy grief of the admiral of Babylon for his mistress, and the woful lamentation of the Arabian king for his lady and lore, we will return to the adventures of the other Christian cham- pions. CHAPTER y. The terrible battle between St Anthony, the champion of Italy, and the giant Blanderon; and afterwards of his strange entertainment in the giant’s castle by a Thracian lady, and what happened to him in the same castle. It was at the time of the year when the earth was newly decked with her summer’s livery, that the noble champion, St Anthony of Italy, arrived in Thracia, where he spent his seven years’ travel to the honour of his country, the glory of God, and to his own lasting renown. For after he had wandered through woods and wildernesses, by hills and dales, by eaves and dens, and through unknown passages, he arrived at last upon the top of a high mountain, whereon stood a wonderfully strong castle, which was kept -by the most mighty giant under the cope of heaven, whose puissant force all Thrace could not overcome, nor even attempt to with- stand. The giant’s name was Blanderon, his castle of the purest marble, with gates of brass ; and over the principal gate were graven the verses following : IV i thin this castle lives the scourge of kings, A furious giant whose unconquer'd power Tlie Thracian monarch in subjection brings, And keeps his daughters pris’ners in his tower st Anthony’s interview with blanderon. 49 Seven damsels fair this monstrous giant keeps, Who sing him music while he nightly sleeps. His hars of steel a thousand knights have felt, Who for these virgins’ sake have lost their lives ; For all the champions hold that with him dealt, This most inhuman giant still survives ; Let simple passengers take heed betime. When up this mountain they intend to climb. But knights of worth, and men of noble mind, If any chance to travel by this tower, That for these maidens’ sake will be so kind To try their strength against the giant’s power, Shall have a virgin’s prayer both day and night, To prosper them with good successful fight. After he had read this, desire of fame so encouraged him, and the thirst of honour so emboldened his valiant mind, that he vowed either to redeem these ladies from their servitude, or die with honour by the fury of the giant. So going to the castle gate, he struck so vehemently thereon with the pommel of his sword, that it sounded like a thunderclap. Whereat Blanderon suddenly started up, having been fast asleep by a fountain side, and came pacing forth of the gate, with an cak tree upon his neck, which, at the sight of the Italian champion, he flourished about his head, as though it had been a little battle-axe, and with these words, addressed the noble champion: “ What fury hath incensed thy overboldened mind, thus to venture thy feeble force against the violence of my strong arm ? I tell thee, hadst thou the strength of Hercules, who bore the mountain Atlas on his shoulders, or the policy of Ulysses, by which the city of Troy was ruined, or the might of Xerxes, whose E 50 st Anthony’s combat with blandehon. multitudes drank up the rivers as they passed ; yet all were too feeble, weak, and impotent to encounter the mighty giant Blanderon ; thy strength I esteem as a pulf of wind, and thy strokes as a few drops of water. Therefore betake thee to thy weapon, which I compare to a bulrush, for on this ground will I measure out thy grave, and after that, with one of my hands, will hurl thy feeble palfrey headlong down this steep mountain.” Thus boasted the vain-glorious giant about his own strength. During which time the valiant champion had alighted from his horse, when, after he had made his humble supplication to heaven for good fortune, he approached within the giant’s reach, who with his great oak dealt toward him such vehement blows, that they seemed to shake the earth, and to rattle against the wall of the castle like thunder-claps ; and had not- the knight continually skipped from the fury of his blows he had soon been killed, for every stroke the giant gave, the root of his oak entered at the least two or three inches into the ground. But it was the wisdom and policy of the worthy champion not to expend the force of his weapon till the giant grew breathless, and unable, through his long labour, to lift the oak above his head. Shortly the heat of the sun became so intolerable, that the sweat from the giant’s brows ran into his eyes, and by reason he was so ex- tremely fat, he grew so blind, that he could not see to combat any longer, and would have retired or run back again into his castle, but that the Italian cham- pion with a bold courage assailed him so fiercely, that he was forced to let his oak fall, and stand gasping ST ANTHONY SLAYS BLANDERON. 51 for breath ; which when this noble knight beheld, with fresh ardour, he redoubled his blows so courageously, that they fell on the giant’s armour like a storm of winter’s hail, whereby at last Blanderon was compelled to ask the champion’s mercy, and to crave at his hands some respite of breathing; but his demand was in vain, for the valiant knight saw that now or never was the time to obtain the honour of the day, and therefore rested not his weary arm, but redoubled blow after blow, till the giant, for want of breath, and through the anguish of his wounds, was forced to bid the world farewell, and to yield the riches of his castle to the most renowned conqueror, St Anthony, the champion of Italy. But by the time the long and dangerous encounter was finished, and the giant Blan- deron’s head was severed from his body, the sun had mounted to the highest part of the heavens, which caused the day to be so extremely hot and sultry, that the champion’s armour scalded him so much that he was constrained to unbrace his corslet, to lay aside his burgonet, and to cast his body upon the cold earth, to mitigate his extreme heat. But such was the un- natural coolness of the earth, that its vapours struck presently to his heart, by winch his vital air was ex- cluded, and his body lay exposed, without sense or moving, at the mercy of pale death, for the space of an hour. At which time, fair Rosalinde (one of the daughters of the Thracian king, a prisoner in the castle) by chance looked over the walls, and espied the headless body of the giant, under whose subjection she had continued, in great anxiety, for the time of seven ;2 KOSALINDE SUCCOUES ST AXTHOXT. v sal's, and by him a knight unarmed, as she thought, panting for breath, whom she judged to be the knight that had slain the giant, and the man by whom her liberty should be recovered ; she presently descended the walls of the castle, and ran with all speed to the adventurous champion, whom she found to all appear- ance dead. But being nothing discouraged of his re- covery, feeling as yet warm blood in every member, she returned with all speed to the castle, and fetched a box of precious balm, which the giant was wont to pour into his wounds after his encounter with any knight. With which balm the courteous lady chafed every part of the breathless champion’s body; one time washing his stiff limbs with her salt tears, which fell like pearls from her eyes; another time drying them with tresses of her golden hair, which hung dangling in the wind ; then chafing his lifeless body again with a balm of a different nature ; but yet no sign of life could she see in the knight, which caused her to despair of his recovery. Therefore, like a loving, meek, and kind lady, considering he had lost his life for her sake, she intended to bear him company in death, and with her own hands to finish her days, and die upon his breast, as Thisbe died upon the breast of her true Pyramis. Therefore, as the swan sings awhile before her death, so this sorrowful lady warbled forth this dirge over the body of the noble champion : Muses, come mourn with doleful melody, Kind sylvan nymphs, that sit in rosy bowers, With brackish tears come mix your harmony, To wail with me both minutes, days, and hours, A heavy, sad, and swan-lilse song sing I, To case my heart awhile before I die. BT ANTHONY RECOVERS. 53 Dead is the knight for whom I live and die, Dead is the knight who for my sake is slain ; Dead is the knight for whom my careful cry, With wounded soul, for ever shall complain. A heavy, sad, and swan like song sing I, etc. I'll lay my breast upon a silver stream, And swim in Elysium’s lily fields ; There, in ambrosia trees, I’ll write a theme Of all the woful sighs my sorrow yields. A heavy, sad, and swan-like song sing I, etc. She had no sooner ended- than she unsheathed the champion’s sword, which was besprinkled with the giant’s blood, and being on the very point of executing her intended tragedy, with the sharp-edged weapon directly against her breast, she heard the distressed knight give a terrible groan ; whereat she stopped her hand, andwith more discretion regarded her own safety. For by this time the balm wherewith she anointed his body, by wonderful operation, recovered the champion, insomuch that, after some few gasps and sighs, he raised up Ms stiff limbs from the cold earth, where, like one cast into a trance, for a time he gazed up and down the mountain, until at last, having recovered his senses, he espied the Thracian damsel standing by, unable to speak one word, her joy so abounded. After some time he revealed to her the manner of his dangerous encounter and successful victory ; and she the cause of his recovery, and her intended tragedy. Whereupon, after many kind salutations, she courteously took him by the hand, and led him into the castle, where for that night she lodged his weary limbs on an easy bed stuffed with turtle-feathers and softest thistle- down. 54 KOSALINDE SHOWS THE CASTLE. The noble-minded knight slept soundly after his dangerous battle till golden Phoebus bade him good- morrow. Then rising from his bed, he attired him- self, not in his wonted habiliments of war, but in purple garments, intending to inspect the rarities of the castle : but the lady Eosalinde was busied in preparing his repast, and when he had refreshed himself with a dainty banquet, he, by her advice, stripped the giant Blanderon of his iron furniture, and left his naked body upon a craggy rock, to be devoured by hungry ravens; after which the Thracian virgin discovered all the castle to the adventurous champion. First she led him to a leaden tower, where hung a hundred well-approved corslets, with other martial furniture, which were the spoils of such knights as had been violently slain. After that, she brought him to a stable, wherein stood a hundred pampered steeds, which daily fed upon human flesh ; against it was placed the giant’s own lodging ; his bed was of iron, corded with mighty bars of steel; the tester, or covering, of carved brass ; and the curtains were of leaves of gold. After this, she led him to a broad pond of water, more clear than quicksilver, whereon swam six milk-white swans, with crowns of gold about their necks. “ O here,” said the Thracian lady, “ begins the depth of all my grief! ” At which words a shower of tears ran from her eyes, that for a time stayed the passage of her tongue. But having relieved her heart by a few sorrowful sighs, she began in this manner to tell her misfortunes : “ These six milk-white swans, most honourable rosalixde’s stobt. 55 knight, you behold swimming in the river,” said the lady Rosalinde, “are my sisters, both by birth and blood, and all daughters to the king of Thrace, governor of this unhappy country ; and the beginning of our imprisonment began in this unfortunate man- ner : “ The king, my father, ordained a solemn hunting to be held through the land, in which honourable pas- time myself, in company of my six sisters, was present. So in the middle of onr sports, when the lords and barons of Thracia were in chase after a mighty lioness, the heavens suddenly began to lour, the firmament overcast, and a general darkness overspread the face of the whole earth : then presently arose such a storm of lightning and thunder, as though heaven and earth had met together ; by which our lordly troops of knights and barons were separated from one another, and we poor ladies forced to seek for shelter at the bottom of this high mountain: where when the cruel giant Blanderon espied us, as he walked upon his battlements, he suddenly descended the mountain, and fetched us all under his arm up into the castle, where ever since we have lived in great slavery; and, for my six sisters,, he turned their comely bodies into the shape of milk-white swans, in the same form as here you see them swimming, but kept me ever since to lull him to sleep with sweet inspiring music. “ Thus have you heard, most noble knight, the true account of my most unhappy fortunes, and the won- derful transformation of my six sisters, whose loss to this day is greatly lamented throughout all Thracia.” And with these words she made an end of her tragical 56 ST ANTHONY COMFORTS ROSALIXDE. history, unable to utter the rest for weeping. Whereat the knight, being oppressed with the like sorrow, embraced her, and thus kindly began to com- fort her : “ Most dear and kind lady, upon whose counten- ance I see how virtue is enthroned, and in w r hose mind lives true magnanimity, let these words suffice to com- fort thy sorrowful thoughts. First, think that the heavens are most beneficent unto thee in preserving thee from the giant’s insatiate rage ; secondly, for thy delivery by my means from his slavish servitude ; thirdly and lastly, that thou, remaining in thy natural shape and likeness, may live to be the means of thy sisters’ transformation; therefore dry up those crystal- pearled tears, and bid thy long continued sorrows adieu, for grief is companion with despair, and despair a forerunner of infamous death.” Thus the woful Thracian lady was comforted by the noble Christian champion: when, after a few kind greetings, they concluded to travel to her father’s court, there to relate what happened to her sisters in the castle, likewise the giant’s confusion, and her own safe delivery, by the illustrious prowess of the Christian knight. So, taking the keys of the castle, which were of a wonderful weight, they locked up the gates, and paced hand in hand down the steep mountain till they approached the Thracian court, which was distant from the castle about ten miles : but by the time they had a sight of the palace the night approached, which discontented the weary travellers ; when at last, coming to her father’s gates, they heard a solemn sound of bells ringing the funeral knell of some noble party. GRIEF OF HOSALIXDe’s FATHER. 57 The cause of wliich they demanded of the porter, who in this manner expressed the truth of the matter to them : “Fair lady and most renowned knight,” said the porter, “for so you seem, both by your speech and honourable presence, the cause of this ringing is for the loss o” the king’s seven daughters, the number of which belL A-;* seven, called after the names of the seven princesses, which nsver yet havs ceased their doleful melody, since the departure of the unhappy ladies, nor ever will until news be heard of their safe return.” “ Then now their task is ended,” said the noble- minded Rosalinde, “ for we bring news of the seven princesses’ abode.” At which words the porter, being ravished with joy, in all haste ran to the steeple, and caused the bells to cease; whereat the king of Thracia, hearing the bells cease their wonted sound, suddenly started up from his princely seat, and like a man amazed ran to the palace-gate, where he found his daughter Rosalinde in company of a strange knight. Which, when he beheld, his joy was so excessive, that he swooned on his daughter’s bosom ; but having recovered his former senses, he brought them into his princely hall, where their entertainment was so honourable in the eyes of the whole court, that it were too tedious to de- scribe: but their joy was presently damped by Rosa- linde’s tragical discourse ; for the good old king, when he heard of his daughters’ transformation, and how they lived in the shape of milk-white swans, rent his locks of silver hair, which time had dyed with the pledge of wisdom ; tore his rich embroidered garments in many pieces, and clad his aged limbs in a dismal 58 ST ANTHONY BIDS FAREWELL. black sable mantle; lie also commanded that his knights and adventurous champions, instead of glitter- ing armour, should wear the weeds of death, more black in hue than winter’s darkest nights ; and all the courtly ladies and gallant Thracian maidens, instead of silken vestments, he constrained to wear both heavy, sad, and melancholy ornaments, and even, as unto a solemn funeral, to attend him to the giant’s castle, and there obsequiously to offer up unto the angry Destinies many a bitter sigh and tear in remembrance of his transformed daughters ; which decree of the sorrowful Thracian king was performed with all convenient speed: and the nest morning, no sooner had Phcebus cast his beauty into the king’s bed-chamber, than he apparelled himself in mourning garments, and in company of his melancholy train set forward on his woful pilgrimage. But here we must not forget the champion of Italy, nor the noble-minded Rosalinde, who, at the king’s departure towards the castle, craved leave to stay be- hind, and not so suddenly begiu new travels ; where- unto the king consented, considering their late jour- ney the evening before. So taking the eastle-keys from the champion, he bade Ms palace adieu and com- mitted his fortune to his sorrowful journey; where we leave him in a world of discontented passion, and awhile discourse of what happened to the Christian champion and his beloved lady. After staying some time in the palace, he took Rosalinde, then weeping for loss of her father, by the hand, and in this manner intimated his intended departure : “My most devoted lady and mistress,” said the champion, “ a second Dido for thy love, a rival to Venus KOSALINDE’s LOVE FOR ST ANTHONY. 59 for thy beauty, and Penelope’s equal for constancy, the faithful love that hitherto I have found since my arrival shall be for ever shrined in my heart, and be- fore all ladies under the cope of heaven thou shalt live and die my love’s true goddess ; and for thy sake I’ll stand as champion against all knights in the world; but to impair the honour of my knighthood, and to live like a carpet-dancer in the lap of ladies, I will not : though I can tune a lute in a prince’s chamber, I can sound a fierce alarm in the field. Honour calls me forth, dear Rosalinde, and Pame intends to buckle on my armour, which now lies rusting in the idle courts of Thrace. Therefore I am constrained (though most unwillingly) to leave the comfortable sight of thy beauty, and commit my fortune to a longer travel : but I protest, wheresoever I come, or in whatever region I be harboured, there will I maintain, to the loss of my life, that both thy love, constancy, and beauty, surpasseth all dames alive; and with this promise, my most divine Rosalinde, I bid thee fare- well.” But before the honourable-minded champion could finish what he proposed to utter, the lady, being wounded inwardly with extreme grief, was unable to keep silent any longer, but, with the tears falling from her eyes, interrupted his speech in this manner : “ Sir knight,” said she, “ by whom my liberty hath been obtained, the name of lady and mistress, where- with you entitle me, is too proud a name for me ; but rather call me handmaid, for on thy noble person will I evermore attend. It is not Thrace can harbour me when thou art absent; and before I would forsake thy company and kind fellowship, heaven shall be no GO ST AXTHOKY ASD EOSAXJXDE LEAVE TOGETETEE. heave d, the sea no sea, the earth no earth; but if thoa shouldest prove inconstant, these tender hands shall never be unclasped, but hang on thy horse’s bridle, till my body, like Theseus’s son, be dashed asunder against hard flinty stones : therefore forsake me not, dear knight of Christendom. If ever Cantina proved true to her Sinatns, or Alstone to her lover, Rosalinde will be as true to thee.” So with this plighted promise she caught him fast about the neck, from which she would not unloose her hands till he had vowed, by the honour of true chivalry, to make her the sole com- panion and partner of his travels. This being agreed to, she was trimly attired like a page in green sarcenet, her hair bound up most cnnniugly with a silk list, artificially wrought with curious knots, that she might travel without suspicion or blemish of honour ; her rapier was a Turkish blade, and her poniard of the finest fashioD, which she wore at her back, tied with an orange tawny-coloured scarf, beautified with tassels of silk; her buskins of the smoothest kid-skins, her spurs of the purest Lydian steel. But to be brief, all things being in readiness for their departure, this worthy knight mounted on his eager steed, and Rosalinde on her gentle palfrey, in pace more easy than the winged winds, or a boat floating upon a crystal stream, both bade adieu to the country of Thracia, and committed their journey to the queen of chance : therefore smile heavens, and guide them with a most happy star, until they arrive where their souls do most desire. The bravest and boldest knight that ever wandered by the way, and the loveliest lady that ever eye beheld. SX ANDKEW OF SCOTLAND. 61 Here my muse must leave them for a season, and speak of the Thracian mourners, who by this time had watered the earth with abundance of their tears, and made the elements true witnesses of their sad lamentations, as hereafter related in the nest chapter. CHAPTER VI. IIow St Andrew, the champion of Scotland, travelled into a vale of walking spirits ; and how he was set at liberty by a moving fire. Of his journey into Thracia, where he restored the six ladies to their natural shapes, that had lived seven years in the likeness of milk-white swans ; with other accidents that befell this most noble champion. Now of the honourable adventures of St Andrew, the famous champion of Scotland, must I discourse, whose seven years’ travels were as strange as any of the other champions. For after he had departed from the brazen pillar, as you heard in the beginning of this history, he travelled through many strange and un- known nations, beyond the circuit of the sun, where but one time in the year he shows his bright beams, continual darkness overspreading the whole country, and there lives a kind of people that have heads like dogs, that in extremity of hunger do devour one an- other, from which people this noble champion was strangely delivered ; for, after he had wandered cer- tain days, neither seeing the gladsome brightness of the sun, nor the comfortable countenance of the moon, but only guided by the planets, he happened to come to a vale of walking spirits, which he supposed to be 62 DELIVERANCE OF ST ANDREW. the very dungeon of burning Acheron ; there he heard the blowing of unseen fires, boiling of furnaces, rattling of armour, trampling of horses, jingling of chains, lum- bering of iron, roaring of spirits, and such-like horrid noises, that it made the Scottish champion almost at his wit’s end. But yet, having an undaunted courage, unalloyed by fear, he humbly made his supplication to heaven, that God would deliver him from that place of terror ; and so presently, as the champion kneeled down upon the barren ground, (whereon grew neither herb, flower, grass, nor any other green thing.) he beheld a certain flame of fire moving up and down before him, on which he stood for a time, uncertain whether it were best to go forward or to stand still; but remembering himself how he had read in former times of a moving fire, called Ignis Fatuus, the fire of destiny; by some, “ Will o’ the Wisp,” or “ Jack with the Lantern ;” and likewise, by some simple country people, “ The Fair Maid of Ireland,” which commonly used to lead wan- dering travellers out of their way ; the like imagina- tion entered into the champion’s mind. So encourag- ing himself with his own conceit, and cheering up his dull senses, lately oppressed with extreme fear, he directly followed the moving fire, which so justly went before him, that by the time the guider of the night had climbed twelve degrees in the zodiac, he was by its means safely delivered from the vale of walking spirits. Now began the sun to dance about the firmament, which St Andrew had not seen for months beforq whereat his senses much rejoiced, being covered be- fore with darkness, and every step he trod was as plea- ST ANDREW REACHES BLANDERON’s CASTLE. 63 surable as though he walked in a garden bedecked with all kinds of fragrant flowers. At last, without further molestation, he arrived within the territories of Thracia, a country, as you have heard in the former chapter, adorned with the beauty of many fair woods and forests, through which he travelled with little rest, and less sleep, till he came to the foot of the mountain, whereupon stood the castle wherein the woful king of Thrace, in company of his sorrowful subjects, still lamented the unhappy destinies of Ms six daughters, turned into swaus, hav- ing crowns, of gold about their necks. When the valiant champion St Andrew beheld the lofty situation of the castle, and the invincible strength it seemed to possess, he expected some strange adventure to befall him, so preparing his sword, and buckling close his armour, which, for lightness in travel, was a shirt of silver mail, he climbed the mountain, on which he espied the giant lying upon a craggy rock, with his limbs and members all rent and torn by the fury of hunger-starved fowls; which loathsome spectacle was no little wonder to the worthy champion, considering the mighty stature and bigness of the giant. Where- upon leaving Ms putrified body to the winds, he ap- proached the gates; and, after he had read the super- scription over the same, entered the castle without any interruption, expecting a fierce encounter with some knight that should have defended the same; but all things fell out contrary to bis imagination; for after he had noticed many a strange novelty and hidden secret, he chanced at last to come where the Thracians were observing their ceremonious mourn- 64 CONTINUED MOURNING OF THE THRACIANS. mgs, which were daily performed in this order: first, upon Sundays, which in that country is the first day in the week, all the Thracians attired themselves after the manner of Bacchus’s priests, and burned perfumed in- cense, with stveet Arabian frankincense, upon a reli- gious shrine, which they offered to the Sun as chief governor of that day, thinking thereby to appease the angry Destinies, and to recover the unhappy ladies to their former shapes; upon Mondays, clad in garments after the manner of Sylvans, a colour like the waves of the sea, they offered up their tears to the Moon, being theguider and mistress of that day; upon Tues- days, like soldiers, trailing their banners in the dust, and drums sounding sad and doleful melody, in sign of discontent, they dedicated their proceedings to the worship of Mars, beiDg ruler and guider of that day ; upon Wednesdays, like scholars, unto Mercury ; upon Thursdays, in like manner, with sweet-sounding music, to Apollo ; upon Fridays, like lovers, to Yenus ; and upon Saturdays, like manual professors, to the angry and discontented Saturn. Thus the wofnl Thracian king, and his sorrowful subjects, consumed seven months, at one time accus- ing Fortune of cruelty, at another the Heavens of injustice; the one for his children’s transformation, the other for their long-continued punishment. But at last, w'hen the Scottish champion heard the bitter moans the Thracians made aboutthe river, he demanded the cause, and why they observed such ceremonies, contemning the majesty of Jehovah, and only worship- ping ontw'ard and vain gods. When the king, after a few sad tears, strained from his aged eyes, replied in this manner: THE KING EXPLAINS HIS GRIEF. 65 “ Most noble knight, for so you seem by your ges- ture and other outward appearance, if you desire to know the cause of our continual grief, prepare your ears to hear a tragical and woful tale, whereat methinks I see the elements begin to mourn, and cover their azure countenance with sable clouds. These milk- white swans you see, whose necks are beautified with golden crowns, are my six daughters, transformed into this swan-like shape by the appointment of the gods ; for of late this castle was kept by d cruel giant, named Blanderon, who transformed their beautiful bodies to these milk-white swans. And now seven times the cheerful spring hath renewed the earth with her sum- mer’s livery, and seven times the nipping winter frosts have bereaved the trees of leaf and bud, since my daughters lost their virgin shapes ; seven summers have they swam upon this crystal stream. “Thus have you heard, most worthy knight, the woful tragedy of my daughters, for whose sakes I will spend the remnant of my days about the banks of this unhappy river, heavily complaining of their long- continued punishment.” Which sad discourse was no sooner ended, than the Scottish knight thus re- plied, to the comfort and great rejoicing of the com- pany : “Most noble king,” said the champion, “your heavy and dolorous narrative hath excited in my heart a won- derful passion, and compelled my very soul to rue your daughter’s miseries ; but yet a greater grief and deeper sorrow than that hath taken possession of my breast, at the spectacle whereof my eyes have been witnesses, and my ears unhappy hearers ; I mean your unchris- F 66 ST ANDREW CHALLENGES THE THRACIAN KNIGHTS. tian faith : for I have seen, since myfirst arrival into this castle, your profane and vain worship of strange and false gods, as of Phoebus, Luna, Mars, Mercury, and such-like poetical names, which the majesty of high Jehovah utterly contemns. But, magnificent governor of Thracia, if you seek to recover your daughters by humble prayer, and to obtain y.our soul’s content by true tears, you must abandon all such vain ceremonies, and with true humility believe in the Christian’s God, who is the God of wonders, and chief commander of the rolling elements, in whose quarrel this unconquered arm and this undaunted heart of mine shall fight : and now, be it known to thee, great king of Thrace, that I am a Christian champion, by birth a knight of Scot- land, bearing my country’s arms upon my breast, (for indeed thereon he bore a silver cross, set in blue silk ;) and therefore, in the honour of Christendom, I challenge forth the proudest knight at arms, against whom I will maintain that our God is the true God, and the rest fantastical and vain ceremonies.” This sudden and unexpected challenge so daunted the Thracian champions, that they stood amazed for a time, gazing upon one another, like men dropped from the clouds : but at last, consulting together how the challenge of the strange knight was to the dishonour of their country, and utter scandal of all knightly dignity, they with a general consent craved leave of the king that the challenge might be taken, who willingly con- descended to what they demanded. So, by the king’s command, time and place were appointed, viz., the next morning, upon a large and smooth meadow close by the river side, whereon the six THE COMBAT. 67 tsvans were swimming ; whereupon, after the Christian champion had cast down his gauntlet, and the Thracian knights accepted thereof, every one departed for that night, the challenger to the east side of the castle to his lodging, and the defendants to the west, where they slept quietly till the next morning, when, by the break of day, they were awakened by the herald at arms. But all the night our Scottish champion never enter- tained one notion of rest, but busied himself in trimming his horse, buckling on his armour, lacing on his bur- gonet, and making prayers to the divine majesty of God, for conquest and victory, till the morning’s beauty chased away the darkness of the night; and no sooner were the windows of the day fully opened than the valiant champion of Christendom entered the lists, where the king, in company of the Thra- cian lords, was present to behold the combat ; and after St Andrew had twice or thrice traced his horse up and down the lists, bravely flourishing his lance, at the top whereof hung a pendant of gold, with poesy thus written in silver letters, “ This day a martyr or a conqueror,” there entered a knight in exceeding bright armour, mounted upon a courser as white as the northern snow, whose caparison was of the colour of the elements ; and then a fierce encounter ensued, but the Thracian had the foil, and with disgrace left the list. Then secondly entered another knight in armour, varnished with green varnish, his steed of the colour of an iron grey ; who likewise was repulsed by the worthy Christian. Thirdly entered a knight in a black corslet, mounted upon a big-boned palfrey, covered with a veil of sable silk ; in his hand he bore a lance nailed 68 TREACHERY OP THE THRACIAN KING. round about with plates of steel ; which knight among the Thracians was accounted the strongest in the world ; but no sooner encountered these haidy cham- pions, than their lances shivered asunder and flew so violently into the air, that it much amazed the be- holders ; then they alighted from their steeds, and so valiantly bestirred them with their keen falchions, that the fiery sparks flew as fiercely from these noble champions’ steel helmets, as from an iron anvil ; but the combat had not endured very long, before the hardy Scottish knight espied an advantage wherein he might show his matchless fortitude ; whereupon he struck such a mighty blow upon the Thracian’s burgonet, that it cleaved his head just down to his shoulders; at which the king suddenly started from his seat, and with a wrathful countenance, in this manner threatened the champion’s death : “ Proud Christian,” said the king, “ thou shalt re- pent this death, and curse the time that ever thou earnest to Thracia : his blood we will revenge upon thy head, and punish thy cruelty with a sudden death;” and so, in company of a hundred armed knights, he encompassed the Scottish champion, intending by mul- titudes to murder him. But when the valiant knight, St Andrew, saw how he was oppressed by treachery, and environed with mighty troops, he called to Heaven for succour, and animated himself by these words of encouragement — “Now for the honour of Christendom, this day a martyr or a conqueror ;” and then he so valiantly behaved himself with his battle-axe, that he made lanes of murdered men, and felled them down by multitudes, as the harvest men mow down ears of THE PRINCESSES RECOVER THEIR SHAPE. 69 ripened corn, whereby they fell before his face like leaves from trees, when the summer’s pride declines in glory. So at last, after much bloodshed, the Thracian king was compelled to yield to the Scottish champion’s mercy, who obliged him, for the safety of his life, to foresake his profane religion, and become a Christian, whose living true God the Thracian king vowed for evermore to worship, and thereupon he kissed the champion’s sword. This conversion of the pagan king so pleased the majesty of God, that he presently gave end to his daughters’ punishment, and turned the ladies to their former shapes. When the king beheld their smooth feathers, which were as white a3 lilies, re-changed to natural fairness, and their black bills and slender necks converted to their first created beauty, he bade adieu to his grief and long-continued sorrow, protesting ever after to continue a true Christian for the Scottish champion’s sake, by whose divine orisons his daughters obtained their former features. So taking the Chris- tian knight, in company of the six ladies, to a rich chamber, prepared with all things according to their wishes, the champion was unarmed, his wounds washed with white wine, new milk, and rose-water, and so, after some dainty repast, conveyed to his night’s repose. The ladies being the joyfnllest creatures under heaven, never entertained one thought of sleep, but passed the night in their father’s company, till the morning messengers bade them good-morrow. Then, all things being prepared, they departed the castle in a triumphant manner, marching back to the Thracian palace with banners streaming hi the wind, 70 DEPARTURE OF ST ANDREW. drums and trumpets sounding joyful melody, and with sweet inspiring music causing the air to resound with harmony. But no sooner were they entered the palace, which was in distance from the giant’s castle about ten miles, than their triumph turned to exceeding sorrow, for Rosalinde, with the champion of Italy, as you have heard before, had left the court ; which unexpected news so daunted the whole company, but especially the king, that the rejoicings for that time were deferred, and messengers were despatched in pursuit of the ad- venturous Italian and lovely Rosalinde. When St Andrew of Scotland had intelligence that it was one of those knights who was imprisoned with him under the wicked enchantress Kalyb, as you heard in the beginning of the history, his heart thirsted for his most honourable company, and his eyes seldom closed quietly, nor took any rest until he had likewise departed in the pursuit of his sworn friend, which he did the following night, without making any acquainted with his intent. And when the six ladies understood the secret departure of the Scottish champion, whom they loved dearer than any knight in the world, they stored themselves with sufficient treasure, and by stealth left their father’s palace, intending either to find out the victorious and approved knight of Scotland, or to end their lives in some foreign region. The rumour of their departure no sooner came to the king’s ears, but he also resolved to travel, either to obtain sight of his daughters again, or to make his tomb beyond the circuit of the sun: so attiring him- self in homely russet like a pilgrim, with an ebon staff in his hand, tipped with silver, he took his journey all ST PATRICK OF IRELAND. n unknown from his palace. These sudden and secret de- partures struck such an intolerable heaviness in th court that the palace gates were sealed up with sable mourning cloth, the Thracian lords forsook all pleasure, but strayed up and down like flocks of sheep without shepherds, and ladies and courtly dames sat sighing in their private chambers ; where we leave them for the present and speak of the success of the other cham- pions. CHAPTER VII. IIow St Patrick, the champion of Ireland, redeemed the six Thracian ladies out of the hands of thirty bloody-minded Satyrs, and of their purposed travel in a pursuit after the champion of Scotland. But now of that valiant knight at arms, St Patrick, the champion of Ireland, must I speak, whose adventurous deeds were so nobly performed, that if my pen were made of steel, I should wear it out in declaring his prowess and worthy adventures. When he departed at the brazen pillar, from the other champions, the heavens smiled with a kind aspect, and sent him such a star to be his guide, that it led him to no courtly pleasures, nor to vain delights, but to the throne of Fame, where Honour sits installed upon a seat of gold. Thither travelled the warlike champion of Ireland, whose illustrious battles the northern isles have chroni- cled on leaves of brass. Therefore, Ireland, be proud, for from thee did spring a champion, whose prowess made the enemies of Christ tremble, and watered the earth with streams of pagans’ blood; the isle of Rhodes, 72 st fatkick loses hbiself in the woods. the key and strength of Christendom, was recovered from the Turks by his martial and invincible prowess; and his dangerous battles, fierce encounters, bloody skir- mishes, and long assaults, would serve to fill a mighty volume; but all these I pass over, and discourse of things appertaining to this history. For after the wars of Rhodes were fully ended, St Patiick (account- ing idle ease the nurse of cowardice) bade Rhodes farewell, as it was then strongly fortified by Christian soldiers, and took his journey through many an unknown country, when at last it pleased the queen of chance to direct his steps to a solitary wilderness, inhabited only by wild Satyrs, and a people of inhuman disposition, giving their wicked minds only to murder and rapine. Here the noble champion travelled up- and down many a weary step, not knowing how to satisfy his hunger, but by killing venison, and after pressing out the blood between two flat stones, roasting it by the sun; his lodging was in the hollow trunk of a blasted tree, which nightly preserved him from the dropping showers of heaven ; his chief companions were the resounding echoes, which commonly answered the champion’s words. In this manner lived St Patrick, the Irish knight, in the woods, not knowing how to set himself at liberty, but wandering up and down, as it were in a maze, wrought by the curious workmanship of some excellent gardener. It was his chance, at last, to come into a dismal shady thicket, beset about with baleful misletoe, a place of horror, wherein he heard the cries of some distressed ladies, whose bitter lamentations seemed to pierce the clouds, and to crave succour at the hands of St. Patrick of Ireland. 73 st Patrick’s combat with the satyrs. God ; which unexpected cries not a little daunted the Irish knight, so that he prepared his weapon for some sudden encounter; and crouching himself under the root of an old withered oak, he espied afar off a crew of bloody-minded Satyrs, hauling, by the hair of the head, six unhappy ladies through many a thorny brake and briar ; which woful spectacle forced such horror into the heart of the Irish knight, that he presently rushed to the rescue of the ladies, to redeem them from the fury of the merciless Satyrs, which were in number about thirty, every one having a club upon his neck, which they had made of the roots of young oaks and pine trees ; yet this adventurous champion, being nothing discouraged, with a bold and resolute mind let drive at the sturdiest Satyr, whose armour of defence was made of a bull’s hide, which was dried so hard against the sun, that the champion's battle-axe pre- vailed not; after which the fell Satyrs encompassed the Christian knight round about, and so mightily oppressed him with downright blows, that had he not by good fortune leaped under the boughs of a spreading tree, he had been forced to give the world a speedy farewell. But such was Lis nimbleness and activity, that ere long he sheathed his sharp pointed falchion in the breast of one of the Satyrs; which woful sight caused all the rest to fly from his presence, and leave the six ladies to the pleasure and disposal of the most noble and courageous Christian champion ; who after he had sufficiently rested and cooled himself in the chill air, (being almost breathless from the long encounter and bloody skirmish,) demanded the cause of the ladies’ travels, and by what means they happened to pass into 74 ST PATRICK COMFORTS THE LADIES. the hands of those merciless Satyrs, who cruelly and tyrannically attempted their destruction. To which courteous demand, one of the ladies, after a deep- fetched sigh, on behalf of herself and the other distressed ladies, thus replied : “ Know, brave-minded knight, that we are the unfor- tunate daughters of the king of Thrace, whose lives have been unhappy ever since our births ; for first we endured a long imprisonment under the hands of a cruel giant, and afterwards, the heavens, to preserve us from the wickedness of the giant, transformed us into the shape of swans, in which likeness we remained seven years, bnt were at last recovered by a worthy Christian knight, named St Andrew, the champion of Scotland ; after whom we have travelled many a weary step, never crossed by any violence, until it was our unlucky fate to arrive in this unhappy wilderness, where your eyes have been the witnesses of our misfortunes.” Which discourse was no sooner finished, than the worthy champion thus began to comfort the distressed ladies : “ The Christian champion after whom you take in hand this weary travel,” said the Irish champion, “ is my approved friend, for whose company and wished-for sight I will go more weary miles than there are trees in this vast wilderness ; therefore, most excellent ladies, true ornaments of beauty, be my companions in my travels ; for I will never cease till I have found our honourable friend, the champion of Scotland, or some of those brave knights, whom I have not seen these seven summers.” So after they had refreshed themselves, and cured ST DAVID OP WALES. 75 their wounds, by the secret virtues of certain herbs growing in the woods, 'they took their journey anew, under the conduct of this worthy champion, Sfc Patrick ; and after some few days’ travel, they obtained the sight of a broad beaten way, where, committing their fortunes to the fatal sisters, and setting their faces towards the east, they merrily journeyed together. Here we will now leave them, and speak of the seventh Christian champion, whose adventurous exploits, and knightly honours, deserve a golden pen dipped in ink of true fame for their description. CHAPTER VIII. How 5t David, the champion of Wales, slew the Count Palatine in the Court of Tartary; and, after, how he was sent to the enchanted garden of Ormandine, wherein by magic art he slept seven years. St David, the most noble champion of Wales, after his departure from the brazen pillar, where the other champions of Christendom separated to seek their foreign adventures, achieved many memorable things, as well in Christendom as in those nations that acknowledge no true God; which at present I omit, and only relate what happened unto him among the Tartars ; for being in the emperor of Tartary’s court, (a place very much honoured by valiant knights, and highly graced by a train of beautiful ladies,) the emperor upon a time ordained a solemn joust and tournament to be held in honour of his birth-day. Hither resorted, at the time appointed, from all the 75 ST DAVID SLAYS THE COUNT PALATINE. borders of Tartary, the best and hardiest knights in the country. In this honourable and princely ex- ercise, the noble knight St David was appointed cham- pion for the emperor, and was mounted upon a Morocco steed, richly caparisoned by the curious work of Indian women, and upon his shield was set a golden griffin rampant in a field of blue. Against him came the Count Palatine, son and heir- apparent to the emperor, brought in by twelve knights, richly furnished with the habiliments of honour, who paced three times about the lists before the emperor and many ladies that were present to behold the hon- ourable tournament; then the twelve knights left the lists, and the Count Palatine prepared himself to en- counter the Christian knight, (being appointed chief champion for the day,) who likewise prepared himself, and at the trumpet sound, by the herald’s appointment, they ran so fiercely against each other, that the ground seemed to shake under them, and the skies to resound the echoes of their mighty strokes. At the second bout the champions had, St David had the worst, and was constrained, through the forcible strength of the Count Palatine, to lean backward al- most beside his saddle, whereat the trumpets began to sound iu sign of victory. But yet the valiant Christian, nothing dismayed, with courage ran the third time against the Count Palatine, and by the violence of his strength, overthrew both horse and man, when the Count’s body was so extremely bruised by the fall of his horse, that his heart’s blood issued forth by his mouth, and his vital spirit was pressed from the mausion of his breast, so that he was forced to give the world farewell. GRIEF OF THE EMPEROR* 77 This fatal overthrow of the Count Palatine abashed the whole company, but especially the emperor, who having no more sons but him, caused the lists to be broken up, the knights to be disarmed, and the Count to be brought, by four esquires, into his palace ; and after many sad sighs, he breathed forth this woful lamentation: — “ Now are my triumphs turned into everlasting woes, from a pleasant pastime to a direful and bloody tragedy. 0 most unkind Fortune, never constant but in change; why is my life prolonged to see the downfall of my dear son, the noble Count Palatine? Why rends not this ac- cursed earth whereon I stand, and presently swallow up my body into her hungry bowels? Is this the use of Christians, for true honour to repay dishonour? Could not base blood serve to stain his deadly hands withal, but the royal blood of my dear son, for whose revenge the face of the heavens is stained with blood, and cries for vengeance to the majesty of mighty Jove. The dreadful Furies, the direful daughters of dark Night, and all the baleful company of burning Acheron, whose loins shall be girt with serpents, and hair be hanged with wreaths of snakes, shall haunt, pursue, and follow this cursed Christian champion, that hath bereaved my country Tartary of so precious a jewel as my dear son the Count Palatine, whose magnanimous prowess surpassed all the knights of our realm.” There was, adjoining npon the borders of Tartary, an enchanted garden, kept by magic art, whence no one returned that attempted to enter; the governor of this garden was a famous necromancer, named Orman- dine, to whom the emperor intended to send the 78 THE EMPEROR HOPES TO PUNISH ST DAVID. adventurous champion St David, thereby to revenge the Count Palatine’s death. So the emperor after some days had passed, and the obsequies of his son had been performed, caused the Christian knight to be brought into his presence, and committed to him this heavy task and weary labour. “Proud knight,” said the angry emperor, “thou knowest since thy arrival in our territories, how hig-hly I have honoured thee, not only in granting thee liberty to live, but making thee chief champion of Tartary, which high honour thou hast repaid with great ingra- titude, and blemished true nobility, in slaying my dear son, for which unhappy deed thou rightly deservedst death ; but yet know, accursed Christian, that mercy harboureth in princely minds, and where honour sits enthroned there justice is not too severe; although thou hast deserved death, yet if thou wilt venture to the enchanted garden, and bring hither the magician’s head, I grant thee not only life, but the crown of Tar- tary after my decease, because I see thou hast a mind furnished with all princely thoughts, and adorned with true magnanimity.” This heavy task and strange adventure not a little pleased the noble champion of Wales; who, after some considerate thought, replied : “Most high and magnificent emperor,” said the champion, “were this task, which you enjoin me, as wonderful as the labours of Hercules, or as fearful as the enterprise of Jason for the golden fleece, yet would I attempt to finish it and return with triumph to Tartary, as the Macedonian monarch did to Babylon, when he had conquered half of the wide world.” Which words THE ENCHANTED GARDEN. 79 were no sooner ended, than the emperor bound him by his oath of knighthood, and by the love he bore unto his native country, never to follow other adventure till he had performed his promise, which was to bring the magician Ormandine’s head into Tartary ; whereupon the emperor departed from the noble knight St David, hoping never to see him return, but rather to hear of his utter confusion, or everlasting imprisonment. Thus the valiant Christian champion, being bound by his promise, within three days prepared all neces- saries for his departure, and travelled westward, until he approached the enchanted garden, the situation whereof somewhat daunted his valiant courage, for it was encompassed with a hedge of withered thorns and briars, which seemed continually to burn ; upon the top thereof sat a number of strange and deformed things, some in the likeness of night owls, which wondered at the presence of St David ; some in the shape of Progne’s transformation, foretelling his unfortunate doom ; and some like ravens, that with their harsh throats ring forth hateful knells of woful tragedies. The skies which covered the enchanted garden seemed to be overspread with misty clouds, whence continually shot flames of fire, as though the air had been filled with blazing comets; which fearful spectacle struck such terror into the champion’s heart, that twice he was disposed to return without performing the adventure, but for bis oath and honour of knighthood, which he had pawned for its accomplish- ment. So laying his body on the cold earth, he made his humble petition to God, that his mind might never be oppressed with cowardice, nor his heart daunted with 80 ST DAVID PALLS 1 X TO A DEEP SLEEP. faint fears, till he had performed what the emperor bad bound him to do ; with this be rose from the ground, and with cheerful looks beheld the elements, which seemed in his conceit to smile at the enterprise, and to foreshow success. So the noble knight, St David, with a valiant courage, went to the garden gate, by which stood a rock of stone, overspread with moss ; in which rock by magic art was enclosed a sword, nothing outwardly appearing but the hilt, which was the richest, in his judgment, that ever his eyes beheld, for the steel-work, beset with jaspers and sapphire-stones, was engraven very curiously ; the pommel was in the fashion of a globe, of the purest silver that the mines of rich America brought forth. About the pommel was engraven with letters of gold this verse following : My magic spells remain most firmly bound, The world’s strange wonder unknown to any one. Till that a knight within the north be found, To pull this sword from out this rock of stone: Tiien ends my charms, my magic arts and all, By whose strong hand wise Ormandine must fall. This inscription drove such a conceited imagination into the champion’s mind, that he supposed himself to be the northern knight by whom the necromancer should be conquered ; therefore, without any further delay he put his hand into the hilt of the rich sword, thinking presently to pull it out from the enchanted rock of Ormandine ; but no sooner did he attempt that vain enterprise, than his senses were overtaken with a sudden and heavy sleep, whereby he was forced to let go his hold, and to fall flat upon the ground, where his senses were drowned in such a dead slumber St. David of Wales. ST GEORGE ESCAPES FROM PRISON. 81 that it was as impossible to recover himself from sleep as to pull the sun out of the firmament. The necro- mancer, by his magic skill, had intelligence of the champion’s misfortune, and sent from the enchanted garden four spirits, in the similitude and likeness of four beautiful damsels, who wrapped the drowsy champion in a sheet of fine Arabian silk, and con- veyed him into a cave, directly placed in the middle of the garden, where they laid him upon a bed, which was softer than down of culvers ; where those beauti- ful ladies, through the art of wicked Ormandine, continually kept him sleeping for the term of seven years. Thus was St David’s adventure unsuccessful. His day’s travels turned into a night’s repose, his night’s repose into a heavy sleep, which endured until seven years were fully finished ; and where we will leave him at the mercy of the necromancer Ormandine, and re- turn to the most noble and magnanimous champion, St George, whom we left imprisoned in the Soldan’s court. CHAPTER IX. How St George escaped out of prison in Persia, and of his fierce battle with a giant ; also, how he redeemed the champion of Wales from his enchantment ; with the tragical tale of the uecromancer, Ormandine. Now seven times had frosty-bearded Winter covered both herbs and flowers with snow, and hung the trees with crystal icicles, since the unfortunate St George G 82 ST GEORGE ESCAPES FROM PRISON. beheld the cheerful light of heaven, but lived obscure in a dismal dungeon, by the Soldan of Persia’s com- mand, as you heard before in the beginning of this history. His unhappy fortune so excited his restless thoughts, that a thousand times a year he wished an end of his life, and a thousand times he cursed the day of his creation. But at last, when seven years were ended, it was the champion’s lucky fortune to find, in a secret cor- ner of the dungeon, a certain iron implement, which time had almost consumed with rust, with which, by long labour, he dug himself a passage through the ground, till he ascended just in the middle of the Soldan’s court, at that time of the night when all things were silent. Now, the noble knight, being as fearful as the bird newly escaped from the fowler’s net, gazed about, and listened where he might hear the voice of people ; at last, he heard the grooms of the Soldan’s stable, furnishing forth horses for the next morning for some great achievement. Whereupon the noble champion, St George, taking the iron implement wherewith he redeemed himself from prison, burst open the doors, slew all the grooms in the Soldan’s stable ; then he took the strongest palfrey, and the richest furniture, with other necessaries appertaining to a knight-at-arms, and so rode in great comfort to one of the city gates, where he sainted the porter in this manner: “ Porter, open the gates, for St George of England has escaped, and murdered the grooms, and in his pur- suit the city is in arms.” Which words the simple Persian believed, and so with all speed opened the ST geokge’s further adventures. 83 gates ; and so the champion of England departed, and left the Soldan in a dead sleep, little dreaming of his sudden escape. But by the time the purple-spotted morning had parted with her grey, and the sun’s bright countenance appeared on the mountain tops; St George had ridden twenty miles from the Persian court, and before his departure was known in the Soldan’s palace, the English champion had arrived in sight of Greece, beyond all danger from the Persian knights who swiftly followed him. By this time the extremity of hunger so sharply tor- mented him, that he could travel.no further, but was constrained to sustain himself with certain wild chest- nuts instead of bread, and sour oranges instead of drink, and such poor food as grew by the way as he travelled. Journeying onwards, he at length espied a tower standing upon a chalky cliff, distant from him about three miles, whither the champion intended to go, not to seek for adventures, but to rest himself after his weary journey, and get such victuals as he could find to supply his wants. The way he found so well, and the journey so easy, that in half an hour he approached the tower; upon the wall of which stood a most beautiful woman, attired after the manner of a distressed lady, and her looks heavy like the queen of Troy, when she beheld her palace on fire. The valiant knight St George, after he had alighted from Ms horse, gave her this courteous salutation: — “ Lady,” said he, “ for so you seem by your outward S4 ST GEORGE COMBATS THE GIANT. appearance, if ever you pitied a traveller, or granted succour to a Christian knight, give to me some food, for I am now almost famished.” The lady, with a sad frown, answered thus: “Sir knight,” quoth she, “ I advise thee with all speed to depart, for here thou’lt get but a cold dinner: my lord is a mighty giant, and believeth in Mohammed ; and if he do but understand that thou art a Christian knight, not all the gold of Higher India, nor the riches of wealthy Babylon, can preserve thy life.” “Now, by the honour of my knighthood,” replied St George, “ assisted by the God that Christendom adores, were thy lord stronger than mighty Hercules that bore mountains on his back, here will I either obtain my dinner, or die by his accursed hand.” These words so abashed the lady, that she went with all speed from the tower, and told the giant, that a Christian knight remained at the gate, and had- sworn to suffice his hunger in despite of his will. Whereupon the furious giant suddenly started up, having been in a sound sleep, for it was the middle of the day, and tak- ing a bar of iron in his hand, he came down to the tower-gate. His stature was in height five yards, his head bristled like a boar, a foot there was betwixt each brow, his eyes were hollow, his mouth wide, his lips were like to flaps of steel, and in all his proportions he was more like a demon than a man. This deformed monster so daunted the courage of St George, that he prepared himself for death, not through fear of the monstrous giant, but from hunger and feebleness of body. But here God provided for him, and so restored to him his decayed strength, that he endured battle until ST GEORGE REACHES THE ENCHANTED GARDEN. 85 the close of the evening, by which time the giant grew almost blind, through the sweat that ran down from his monstrous brows; whereupon St George got the advan- tage, and wounded the giant so cruelly under the short ribs, that he was compelled to fall to the ground, and give up his life. After this happy event St George first gave the honour of his victory unto God, in whose power all his fortune consisted; then entered the tower, where the lady presented him with all manner of delicacies and pure wines ; but the English knight suspecting treachery to be hidden under her proffered courtesy, caused her to taste of every dish, likewise of the wine, lest some violent poison should be therein mixed; but finding all things pure and wholesome, as nature re- quired, he satisfied his hunger, rested his weary body, and refreshed his horse. And so leaving the tower in keeping of the lady, he committed his fortune to new travel, as his revived spirits never required longer rest than for the re- freshing himself and his horse ; so he travelled through part of Greece, the confines of Phrygia, and into the borders of Tartary, within which territories he had not long journeyed than he approached in sight of the enchanted garden of Ormandine, where St David the champion of Wales had so long slept by magic art. But no sooner did he behold the wonderful situation thereof, than he espied Ormandine’s sword enclosed in the enchanted rock ; and, after he had read the super- scription written about the pommel, he essayed to pull it out by strength; and he no sooner put his hand upon the hilt, than he drew it forth with as much ease 86 DISCOMFITURE OF ORMAN DIKE. as though it had been hung by a thread of untwisted silk: and when he beheld the glitteiing brightness of the blade, and the wonderful richness of the pommel, he accounted the prize more worth than the armour of Achilles, which caused Ajax to run mad, and much richer than Medea’s golden fleece. But by the time St George had circumspectly looked into every secret of the sword, he heard a strange and dismal voice thunder in the skies ; a terrible and mighty lumbering in the earth, by which both hills and mountains were shaken, rocks were removed, and oaks were rent in pieces. After this, the gates of the enchanted garden flew open; whence came forth Ormandine the magician, with his hair standing on his head, his eyes sparkling, his cheeks blushing, his hands quivering, his .legs trembling, and all the rest of his body distempered, as though legions of spirits had encompassed him about ; he came directly to the worthy knight, who remained still by the enchanted rock, whence he had pulled the magician’s sword, and took the most valiant and mag- nanimous champion St George of England by the gaunt- let, and with great humility kissed it ; then proffering him the courtesy due to strangers, which was performed very graciously, he afterwards conducted him into the enchanted garden, to the cave where the champion of Wales was kept sleeping by four virgins singing delightful songs, and after seating him in a chair of ebony, Ormandine thus began to relate of wonderful things : “ Renowned knight at arms,” said the necromancer, “Fame’s worthiest champion, whose strange adventures ORJIAN dike’s ADVICE to ST GEORGE. 87 all Christendom in time to come shall applaud ; be silent till I have told my tale, for never after this must my tongue speak again. The knight whom thou seest here wrapped in this sheet of gold, is a Christian champion, as thou art, sprung from the ancient seed of Trojan warriors, who likewise attempted to draw this enchanted sword, but my magic spells so prevailed, that he was intercepted in the enterprise, and forced ever since to remain sleeping in this cave. But now the hour is almost come for his recovery, which by thee must be accomplished. Thou art that adventurous champion whose invincible hand must finish up my detested life, and send my fleeting soul to draw thy fatal chariot on the banks of burning Acheron ; for my time to remain in this enchanted garden was limited, till from the north should come a knight who should pull this sword from the enchanted rock, which thou happily hast now performed; therefore I know my time is short, and my hour of destiny at hand. What I report, write in brazen lines, for the time will come when this discourse shall highly benefit thee. Take heed thou observest three things; first, That thou take to wife a virtuous maid ; next, That thou erect a monument over thy father’s grave ; and lastly, That thou continue a professed enemy to the foes of Christ Jesus, bearing arms in the honour and praise of thy country. These things being truly andjustly observed, thou shalt attain such honour, that all kingdoms of Christendom shall admire thy dignity. What I speak is from no vain imagination, sprung from a frantic brain, but pronounced by the mystical and deep art of necromancy.” 88 ormandine’s history. These words were no sooner ended, than the most honourable fortnnate champion of England requested the magician to describe his past fortunes, and by what means he came to be governor of the enchanted garden. “ To tell the discourse of my own life,” replied Or- mandine, “ will breed a new sorrow in my heart, the remembrance of which will rend my very soul. But yet, most noble knight, to fulfil thy request, I will force my tongue to declare what my heart denies to utter ; therefore prepare thine ear to listen to the most woful tale that ever tongue delivered.” THE WOFUL AND TRAGICAL DISCOURSE, PRONOUNCED BY THE NECROMANCER OEMANDINE, OF THE MISERY OF HIS CHILDREN. “ I was in former times king of Scythia, my name Ormandine, graced in my youth with two fair daugh- ters, whom nature had not only made beantiful, but replenished with all gifts that art could devise. The elder, whose name was Castria, was the fairest maid that ever Scythia brought forth. Among the number of knights ensnared by her love, there was one Flori- don, son to the king of Armenia, equal to "her in every ornament of nature ; a lovelier couple never trod on earth, or graced any prince’s court in the whole world. “ This Floridon so seemingly burned in affection for the admired Castria, that he offered her his love, and was accepted, but be afterwards betrothed himself to my younger daughter, whose name was Marcilla, no less beautified with nature’s gifts than her elder sister; and when the inconstant Floridon perceived that the FATAL JEALOUSY OF CASTfilA. 89 unhappy Castria upbraided him with many ignominious words, he with a wrathful countenance replied — ‘I tell thee, Castria, my love was ever yet to follow arms, to hear the sound of drums, to ride upon a nimble steed, and not to trace a carpet dance, like Priam’s son, before the eyes of Menelaus’s wife. Therefore begone, dis- turbing creature ; go sing thy harsh melody in com- pany of night birds.’ “After which reproachful speeches, Floridon de- parted from her presence, not leaving behind him so much as a kind look. Whereat the distressed lady, being oppressed with intolerable grief, sunk down, not able to speak for a time ; but at last, recovering her senses, she began anew to complain. “‘I,’ quoth she, ‘must now abandon ana utterly forsake all company, and seek some cave, wherein I may sit for evermore and bewail myself. My Floridon, oh ! he denieth me, and accounts my sight as ominous as the baleful crocodile’s. 0 inconstant Floridon ! thou didst promise me marriage ; but now thy vows I see are false. Thou hast forsaken me, and tied thy faith unto my sister Marcilla, who must enjoy thy love.’ “ Thus complained the wofui Castria, roving up and down the court of Scythia, for five months. At the end of which time, the appointed marriage of Floridon and Marcilla drew nigh, and the prince and potentates of Scythia were present to celebrate Hymen’s holy rites ; in which honourable assemblies none were more busy than Castria to beautify her sister’s wedding. The ceremonies being performed, and the day spent in pleasures fitting so great and mighty an occa- sion, Castria requested the privilege of the country, 90 ormandine’s history. which was this : that on the first night of any maiden’s marriage her sister should sleep with the bride ; which honourable task was committed to Castria, who provided herself with a silver bodkin, wherewith she intended to prosecute revenge, and hid it in the ringlets of her hair. The bride’s sleeping chamber was appointed far from the hearing of any one, lest the noise of people should hinder her quiet sleep. “ But at last, when the hour approached that the bride should take leave of her ladies and maidens that attended her to her chamber, the new-married Flori- don, in company of many Scythian knights, committed Marcilla to her quiet rest, little suspecting the bloody purpose of her sister’s mind. “ And now behold how every thing fell out according to her desires. The ladies and gentlemen had no sooner departed, andsilence taken possession of the whole court, than Castria locked the chamber-door, and secretly conveyed the keys under the bed’s head, unperceived by the betrayed Marcilla, who, poor lady, after some speeches, went to bed ; wherein she was no sooner laid, than a heavy sleep over-mastered her senses, whereby her tongue was forced to bid her sister good night, who sat discontented by her bed-side, watching the time when she might conveniently act her bloody tragedy. TJpon a court cupboard stood two burning tapers, that gave light to the whole chamber, which in her conceit seemed to bnrn blue. After this, she took the silver bodkin, that she had secretly hidden in her hair, and came to her new-married sister, then overcome with a heavy slumber, and with her bodkin pierced her tender SAD FATE OF THE TWO SISTERS. 91 breast; who immediately, on receiving the stroke, started from her sleep, and gave such a pitiful shriek, that it would have awakened the whole court, but that the chamber stood far from the hearing of company, except her bloody-minded sister, whose hand was ready in her fury with a second stroke. “ But when Marcilla beheld the sheets and ornaments of her bed bestained with purple gore, and from her breast run streams of crimson blood, which like a foun- tain trickled down her bosom, she breathed forth this exclamation against the cruelty of Castria : “‘0 sister,’ said she, ‘hath nature harboured in thy breast a horrid soul? What fury hath incensed thee to commit this tragedy? What have I done, or wherein hath my tongue offended thee? What has caused thy remorseless hand to convert against nature my joyful nuptials to a woful funeral?’ ‘This is the cause,’ replied Castria, declaring how Floridon had deserted her, ‘that Ihave bathed my hands inthy blood.'’ “ Which words were no sooner finished, than she violently pierced her own breast, whereby the blood of the two sisters was mingled together. “ Now when the morning sun had chased away the dark night, Floridon, who little suspected the fate of the two sisters, repaired to the chamber door, with a concert of skilful musicians, but their harmony sounded only to the walls, and his morning salutations were made in vain ; he burst open the door, and hav- ing entered, he found the two ladies weltering in their own gore ; which woful spectacle so bereaved him of his wits, that like a frantic man he raged up and down, and thus bitterly complained : 92 ormandine’s history. “ ‘ Oh, immortal powers ! open the vengeful gates of heaven, and in your justice punish me, for my incon- stant love hath murdered two of the bravest ladies that ever nature framed. Revive, sweet dames of Scythia, and hear me speak, I that am the most woful wretch that ever spoke ; if spirit may here be given for spirit, dear ladies, take my life and live; or if my heart might dwell within your breasts, this hand shall equally divide it.’ “ Which woful lamentation was no sooner breathed from his sorrowful breast, than he finished his days by the stroke of the same accursed bodkin which was the instrument of the two sisters’ death, and which he found still remaining iu the hand of remorseless Castria. “When the report of Moridon’s unhappy death was bruited to his father’s ears, his grief so exceeded the bounds of reason, that with all convenient speed he gathered the greatest strength Armenia could make, and, in revenge for his son’s fate, entered my terri- tories, and with his well-approved warriors, subdued my provinces, slaughtered my soldiers, conquered my captains, slew my subjects, burnt my cities, and left my country villages desolate; and when I beheld my country overspread with famine, fire, and sword, three intestine plagues wherewith Heaven scourgeth the sins of the wicked, I was forced, for the safeguard of my life, to forsake my native habitation and kingly government, committing ray fortune (like a banished exile) to wander in unknown countries, where Care was my chief companion, and Discontent my only solicitor. At last it was my destiny to ST DAVID AWAKES FROM HIS LONS SLEEP. 93 arrive in this unhappy place, which I supposed to be the abode of Despair ; where I had not remained many days in my melancholy passion, when methought the jaws of deep Avernus opened, and there ascended a most fearful demon, who promised if I placed my fortune at his disposal, he would defend me from the fury of the whole world. To which I having at once consented, upon some assurance, he placed before my face this enchanted sword, so surely closed in stone, that it could never be pulled out but by the hands of a Christian knight, and till that task was performed, I should live exempt from all danger) although all the kingdoms of the earth assailed me ; which task, most adventurous champion, thou hast now performed, whereby I know the hour of my death approacheth, and my time of confusion is at hand.” This discourse pronounced by the necromancer Or- mandine, was no sooner finished, than the worthy cham- pion, St George, heard such a rattling in the skies, and such a lumbering in the earth, that he expected some strange event to follow ; then, casting his eyes aside, he saw the enchanted garden vanish, and the champion of Wales awake from his long sleep, wherein he had remained seven years; who, like one risen from a swoon, for a time stood speechless, not able to utter one word, till he beheld the noble champion of England steadfastly gazing upon the necromancer, who, at the vanishing of the enchantment, gave a terrible groan and died. The two champions, after many embracings and kind greetings, revealed to each other the strange adventures they had met. St David told how he was 94 FURTHER ADVENTURES OF ST GEORGE. bound by the oath of knighthood to undertake the capture of Ornaandine : whereupon St George de- livered the enchanted sword, with the necromancer’s head, which he severed frqp his body, into the hands of St David. But here must my weary Muse leave St David travelling with Ormandine’s head to the Tartar emperor, and speak .of the adventures that hap- pened to St George after his departure from the enchanted garden. CHAPTER x. How St George arrived at Tripoli, in Barbary, where he stole away Sabra, the king’s daughter of Egypt, from the Blackmoor king; and how her fidelity was known by the means of two lions; and what happened to him in the same adventure. St George, after the recovery of St David, as you heard iu the former chapter, hastened his journey towards Christendom, whose pleasant plains he long desired to behold, and thought every day a year, till his eyes enjoyed the sweet sight of his native country of England, upon whose chalky cliffs he had not ridden for many a weary summer’s day. Therefore commit- ting his journey to a fortunate issue, he travelled through many a dangerous country, where the people were not only of a bloody disposition, and given to all manner of wickedness, but the soil was greatly in- fested by wild beasts. Thusiu extreme danger travelled the noble champion, St George, till he arrived in the territories of Barbary, in which country he purposed for a time to remain, •ST GEORGE AND THE HERMIT. 95 and to seek for some noble achievement, whereby his fame might be increased; and being encouraged by this chivalric thought, the noble champion of Eng- land climbed to the top of a high mountain, where he unlocked his beaver, which before had not been lifted up for many a day, and beheld the wide and spacious country, how it was beautified with lofty pines, and adorned with many goodly palaces. But amongst the number of the towers and cities which the English champion beheld, there was one which seemed to exceed the rest both in situation and fine build- ings, which he supposed to be the chief city of the country, and the place where the king usually held his court ; to which St George intended to travel, not to furnish himself with any needful article, but to accom- plish some honourable adventure, whereby his deeds might be immortalised in the books of memory. So after he had descended from the top of the steep mountain, and had travelled into a low valley about two or three miles, he approached an old and almost ruined hermitage, over-grown with moss and other weeds. Before the entry of this hermitage sat an ancient father upon a round stone, enjoying the heat of the warm sun, which cast such a comfortable bright- ness upon the hermit’s face, that his white beard seemed to glitter like silver, and his head to exceed the whiteness of the northern icicles: from whom, after St George had paid the reverence that belongs to age, he demanded the name of the country, and the city he travelled to, and by what king the country was governed. The courteous hermit thus replied: “ Most noble knight, for so I guess you are by your 96 ST GEORGE HEARS SAD INTELLIGENCE. furniture and outward appearance, you are now in the territory of Barbary; yonder city opposite your eyes is called Tripoli, remaining under the government of Almidor, the black king of Morocco, in which city he now keepeth his court, attended by as many gallant knights as any king under the cope of heaven.” At which words the noble champion of England sud- denly started, as though he had intelligence of some baneful news which deeply discontented his princely mind: his heart was presently incensed with a speedy vengeance, and hi3 mind so extremely thirsted for Al- midor’s chastisement, that he could scarcely answer the hermit’s words. But bridling his fury, the angry champion spoke in this manner : “ Grave father,” said he, “ through the treachery of that accursed king I endured seven years’ imprisonment in Persia, where I suffered both hunger, cold, and ex- treme misery. But if I had my good sword Ascalon, and my trusty palfrey, which I left in the Egyptian court, where remains my betrothed love, the king of Egypt’s daughter, I would be avenged on the head of Almidor, were his guard more strong than the army of Xerxes, whose multitudes drank the rivers dry.” “Why,” said the hermit, “Sabra, the king’s daughter of Egypt, is queen of Barbary; and since her nuptials were solemnly performed in Tripoli seven summers are fully finished.” “Now by the honour of my country, England, the place of my nativity,” replied St George, “ and as I am a Christian knight, these eyes of mine shall never close until I have obtained a sight of the sweet princess, for whose sake I have endured so long imprisonment. ST GE0I1GK AND THE HERMIT CHANGE CLOTHES. 97 Therefore, dear father, bo so kind to a traveller, as to exchange thy clothing for my rich furniture and steed, which I brought from the Soldan of Persia, for in the habit of a palmer I may enjoy the happiness of her sight without suspicion; therefore courteously deliver me thy hermit’s gown, and I will give, with my horse and armour, this box of costly jewels.” The grave hermit humbly thanked the noble' champion, and so with all the speed they could possibly make, they ex- changed apparel, and in this manner he departed. The palmer being glad, repaired to his hermitage with St George’s furniture, and St George in the palmer’s apparel towards the city of Tripoli ; and he no sooner came to the sumptuous buildings of the court than he espied a hundred poor palmers kneeling at the gate, to whom he spake after this manner: “ My dear brethren,” said the champion, “ for what intent remain you here, or what expect you from this honourable court?” “ We abide here,” answered the palmers, “for an alms, which the queen once a day hath given these seven years, for the sake of an English knight, named St George, whom she loved above all the knights in the world.” “ But when will this be given ?” said St George. “ In the afternoon,” replied the palmers : “ until which time, upon our bended knees, we hourly pray for the good fortune of the most noble English knight.” Which speeches so pleased the valiant-minded champion St George, that he thought every minute a year, till the golden sun had passed the middle part of heaven ; for it had then but newly risen from Aurora’s bed, whose H 98 GRIEF OF QUEEN SABEA. light, as yet, with a shame-faeed radiant blush stained the eastern sky. During this time, the most valiant and magnanimous champion St George of England, now remembering the extreme misery he endured in Persia for her sake, now thinking upon the terrible battle he had with the burning dragon in Egypt, where he redeemed her from the fatal jaws of death, walked about the court, be- holding the sumptuous buildings, and the curious engraven works executed by the achievement of man upon the glittering windows; when he heard, to his exceeding pleasure, the heavenly voice of his beloved Sabra, proceeding from a window upon the west side of the palace, where she warbled forth this sorrowful ditty to her lute: — Die, all desires of joy and courtly pleasures; Die, all desires of princely royalty; Die, all desires of worldly treasures ; Die, all desires of stately majesty; Since he is gone that pleased most my eye, For whom I wish ten thousand times to die. O that mine eyes might never cease to weep, 0 that my tongue might evermore complain, O that my soul might in his hosom sleep, For whose sweet sake my heart doth live in pain ; In woe I sing, my life with sorrow spent, Outworn with grief, consumed with discontent. In time the sighs will dim the heavens’ fair light, Which hourly fly from my tormented hreast, Except St George, that noble English knight, With safe return shall make me truly blest; Then bitter cries shall end without alloy, Exchanging weeping tears for smiling joy. Her song being ended, she left the window, away SABBA AND THE PALMERS. 99 from the hearing of the English champion, who stood gazing up at the casement, preparing his ears to listen to her sweet-tuned melody a second time. Bat it was in vain; whereat he grew more perplexed in passion than JEneas, when he had lost his beloved Creusa amongst the army of the Grecians ; sometimes wishing the day to vanish in a moment, that the hour of her benevolence might approach; at other times comforting his sad cogitations with the remembrance of her long-continued constancy for his sake. Thus he passed the time away, till the glorious sun began to decline in the western parts of the earth, when the palmers should receive her wonted benevolence. The English champion placed himself in the midst of those that expected the welcome hour of her coming, and at the time appointed she came to the palace gate, attired in mourning vesture, like Polixena, king Priam’s daughter, when she went to sacrifice ; her hair after a careless manner hung waving in the wind, almost changed from yellow burnished brightness to the colour of silver, through her long continued sorrow and grief of heart ; her eyes seemed to have wept seas of tears, and her wonted beauty was now stained with the pearly dew that trickled down her cheeks ; and after the sorrowful queen had justly numbered the palmers, and with vigilant eyes beheld the princely countenance of St George, her colour began to change from red to white, and from white to red, as though the lily and rose strove for superiority. But yet concealing her agitation under a smooth brow, she first delivered her alms to the palmers, then taking St George aside, with him she thus kindly began to confer : 100 ST GEORGE MAKES HIMSELF KNOW. ‘•Palmer,” said she, “thou resemblest both in princely countenance and courteous behaviour that thrice hon- oured champion of England, for whose sake I have daily bestowed my benevolence for these seven years ; his name is St George ; his fame I know thou hast heard reported in many a country to be the bravest knight that ever buckled on steel helmet. Therefore for his sake will I grace thee with the chiefest honour in this court : instead of thy russet gabardine, I will clothe thee in purple silk, and instead of the ebon staff, thy hand shall wield the richest sword that ever princely eye beheld.” To which the noble champion St George replied in this courteous manner : “I have heard,” said he, “the princely achieve- ments and magnanimous adventures of that honoured English knight, whom you so dearly esteem, bruited through many princes’ courts, and how for the love of a lady he hath endured a long imprisonment, whence he never looked to return, but to spend the remnant of his days in lasting misery.” At which, the qneen let fall from her eyes snoh a shower of pearly tears, and sent such numbers of strained sighs from her grieved heart, that her sorrow seemed to exceed that of the queen of Carthage, when she had for ever lost the sight of her beloved lord. But the brave-minded champion purposed no longer to continue secret, but with his discovery to convert her sorrowful moans to smiling joy. And so casting off his palmer’s weeds, acknowledged himself to the qneen, and showed the half-ring. Which ring in former time (as you have read before) they had equally divided GREAT JOT OF SABRA. 101 betwixt them, to be kept in remembrance of their plighted faith. This unexpected sight highly pleased the beauteous Sabra, and her joy so exceeded the bounds of reason, that she could not speak one word, but was constrained through her new born pleasure to breathe a sad sigh into the champion’s bosom, who, like a true and noble knight, embraced her with a loving kiss; and after these two lovers had fully discoursed to each other the secrets of their souls, Sabra took him gently by the hand, and ied him into her husband’s stables, where stood his faithful palfrey, who no sooner espied the return of his master, than he was more proud of his presence than Bucephalus of the Macedonian monarch, when he most joyfully returned in triumph from any victorious conquest. “Now is the time,” said the excellent princess Sabra, “that thou mayest seal the remembrance of our former loves ; therefore, with all convenient speed take thy faithful palfrey and thy trusty sword Ascalon, which I will presently deliver into thy hands, and with all celerity convey me from this unhappy country ; for the king, my husband, with ail his adventurous knights, being now forth hunting, their absence will assist our flight ; but if you stay till his return, it is not a hundred of the hardiest knights in the world could bear me from this accursed palace.” At which words St George, having a mind graced with all excellent virtues, replied in this manner: “ Thou knowest, my divine lady, that for thy love I -would endure as many dangers as Jason suffered in the isle of Colchis. But how is it possible thou canst fly 102 SABRA ESCAPES WITH ST GEORGE. with me, when thou hast been crowned queen these seven years, and lived so long with the king ?” “ He,” quoth she, “ is my foe, whose touch I count more loathsome than a den of snakes, and his sight more ominous than the crocodile. As for the crown of Morocco, which by force of friends was set upon my head, I wish that it might be turned into a blaze of quenchless fire, if it might not endanger my body, and for the name of queen, I account it a vain title ; for I had rather be an English lady, than the greatest empress in the world.” Upon these speeches St George willingly consented, and with all speed purposed to go into England. So losing no time, Sabra furnished herself with sufficient treasure, and obtained the consent of an eunuch, who was appointed her guard in the king’s absence, to accompany them in their travel, and to serve as a trusty guide, if occasion required. So these three worthy personages committed their travels to the guidance of Fortune, who preserved them from dangers of pursuing enemies, who on the king’s return from hunting followed them to every port and haven that divided the kingdom of Barbary from the confines of Christendom. But kind Destiny so guided their steps, that they travelled another way, and, contrary to their expectations, when they looked to arrive upon the territories of Europe, they were cast upon the fruitful plains of Greece : in which country we must tell what happened to the three travellers. And now, Melpomene, thou tragic sister of the Muses, report what unlucky crosses happened to these three travellers on the confines of Greece, and how S ABRA OVERCOME "WITH HUNGER. 103 their smiling comedy was by ill-luck turned into a weeping tragedy ; for when they had .journeyed about three or four leagues, over many a lofty hill, they came nigh unto a vast wilderness, through which the way seemed so long, and the sun-beams so exceedingly powerful, that Sabra, from weariness of travel, and the extreme heat of the day, was constrained to rest under the shelter of a mighty oak, whose branches had not been lopped for many a year. She had not long remained there when her heart began to faint from hunger, and her colour, which was but a little before as fair as any lady’s in the world, began to change for want of a little drink; whereupon the most famous champion St George, half dead with grief, comforted her as well as he could after this manner : “ Faint not, my dear lady,” said he, “ here is that good sword that once preserved thee from the burning dragon, and before thou shalt die for want of sustenance it shall make way to every corner of the wilderness ; where I will either kill some venison to refresh thy hun- gry stomach, or make my tomb in the bowels of some monstrous beast. Therefore abide thou here under this tree, in company of thy faithful eunuch, till I return either with the flesh of some wild deer, or else some flying bird, to refresh thy spirit for new travel.” Thus left he his beloved lady with the eunuch in the woods, and travelled up and down the wilderness, till he espied a herd of fatted deer, from which company he singled out the fairest, and like a tripping satyr, coursed her to death; then with his keen-edged sword cut out the goodliest haunch of venison that ever hunter’s eye beheld ; which gift he supposed to be most welcome to 104 SAIS It A AND THE LIONS. his beloved lady. But mark what happened in his ab- sence to the two weary travellers under the tree: where, after St George’s departure, they had not long sat, dis- coursing about their long journeys and safe delivery from the hated Blackmoor king, stealing the time away with many an ancient story, when there appeared out of a thicket two huge and monstrous lions, which came directly pacing towards the two travellers. When Sabra beheld this fearful spectacle, having a heart overcharged with extreme fear of death, she committed her soul into the hands of God, and her body, almost famished for food, to satisfy the hunger of the furious lions, but who, by the appointment of heaven, did not so much as lay their wrathful paws upon the smallest part of her garment, but with eager desire assailed the eunuch, until they had buried his body in the empty vaults of their hungry bowels; then with their teeth lately imbrued in blood, rent the eunuch’s steed into small pieces : after which they came to the lady, who sat quaking half dead with fear, and, like two lambs, couched their heads upon her lap, and she with her hand stroked down their bristled hairs, not daring almost to breathe, till a heavy sleep had over-powered their furious senses. By this time the princely minded champion St George returned with a piece of venison upon the point of his sumrd: and at that unexpected sight stood amazed, doubting whether it was best to fly for safety of his life, or to venture his fortune against the furious lions. But at last, when he beheld his lady quaking before the dismal gates of death, his love encouraged him to such boldness, that, laying down his venison, he sheathed his ■ fal. ST GEORGE AND SABRA ARRIVE IN GREECE. 105 chion in the bowels of one of the lions. Sabra kept the other sleeping in her lap till his prosperous hand had likewise despatched him : which adventure being per- formed he first thanked heaven for his victory, and then in this kind manner saluted his lady : “ Now Sabra," said he, “ I have by this sufficiently proved thy fidelity; for it is the nature of a lion, be he ever so furious, not to harm but humbly to lay his bristled head upon a maiden’s lap. Therefore, divine paragon, thou art the world’s chief wonder for love and chastity, thy honoured virtues shall ring as far as Phcebus sends his lights, and thy constancy I will maintain in every laud to which I come, to be the truest under the circuit of the sun.” At which words he cast his eyes aside, and beheld the bloody spectacle of the eunuch’s tragic end, which Sabra wofully related to the grief of St George, when sad sighs served for a doleful knell to bewail his untimely death : but having a strong mind, not subject to vain sorrow when all hope of life is past, he ceased his grief, and prepared the venison for his lady’s repast. After which joyful feast, these two princely persons set forward on their travels, on which the happy guide of heaven so conducted their steps, that before many days passed, they arrived in the Grecian court, upon the very day when the marriage of the Grecian emperor was to be solemnly held: whose nuptials, in former times had been bruited throughout every nation in the world, as well in Europe, as in Africa and Asia. At which honourable marriage the bravest knights then living on the earth were present; for golden Fame had spread the report thereof to the ears of the Seven 106 THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS ARRIVE IN GREECE. Champions; in Thessaly, to St Denis, the champion of Prance, there remaining with his beanteous Eglan- tine; in Seville, to St James, the champion of Spain, where he remained with his lovely Celestine; to St Anthony, the champion of Italy, then travelling on the borders of Scythia, with his lady Rosalinde; likewise to St Andrew, the champion of Scotland; to St Pat- rick, the champion of Ireland; and to St David the champion of 'Wales. But now Fame and smiling Fortune consented to make their knightly achievements shine in the eyes of the whole world, therefore by the conduct of heaven they all arrived in the Grecian emperor’s court. CHAPTER XI. How the seven champions arrived in Greece at the emperor’s nuptials, where they perform many noble achievements; and how, afterwards, open war was proclaimed against Christendom by many knights, and how every champion departed into his own country. To speak of the number of knights that assembled in the Grecian court together, were too tedious a labour, requiring the pen of Homer ; therefore I will omit the honourable train of knights and ladies that attended them to the church ; their costly garments and glitter- ing ornaments, exceeding the royalty of Hecuba, the beauteous queen of Troy. After some few days the emperor proclaimed a solemn jousting to be held for the space of seven days, in honour of his marriage, and appointed for his chief champions the seven Christian knights, FIRST DAT OF THE TOURNAMENT. 107 Before the clay appointed for the tournament to begin, the emperor caused a large frame of timberwork to be erected, whereon the empress and her ladies might stand, for the better view of the tilters, and at pleasure behold the champions’ encounters ; likewise in tho compass of the lists were pitched seven tents of seven different colours, wherein the seven champions might remain till the sound of the silver trumpets summoned them to appear. The first day, St Denis of France was appointed chief champion against all comers, being called by the title of the Golden knight, and at the sound of the trumpet entered the lists. His tent was of the colour of the marigold ; upon the top an artificial sun flamed, that seemed to beautify the whole assembly ; his horse an iron grey, graced with a plume of spangled feathers ; before him rode a page in purple silk, bearing upon his crest three golden fleurs-de-lis, which signified his arms. Thus in this royal manner entered St Denis the lists ; and after he had paced twice or thrice up and down, in the open view of the whole company, he prepared himself to begin the tournament. Against him ran many Grecian knights, who were foiled by the French champion, to the admiration of all beholders ; who, to be brief, behaved himself so worthily, and with such fortitude, that the emperor applauded him as the bravest knight in the world. Thus in great royalty, to the exceeding pleasure of the emperor, was the first day spent, till the dark evening caused the knights to break off company, and repair to their night’s repose. And the next morning, no sooner did Bhoebus show his splendid brightness. 108 SECOND, THIRD, AND FOURTH DATS. than the herald, by command of the emperor, with a noise of trumpets, awakened the champions from their silent sleep, and they with all speed prepared for the second day’s exercise. The chief champion appointed for that day, was the victorious knight, St James of Spain ; who, after the emperor and empress had seated themselves with a stately train of beautiful ladies, en- tered the lists upon a Spanish jennet; directly opposite the emperor’s throne, his tent was pitched, which was of the colour of quicksilver, and whereon were pour- trayed many fine devices; before the tent attended four esquires, bearing four several escutcheons in their hands, whereon were curiously painted the four ele- ments ; he likewise had the title of the Silver knight ; and behaved himself no less worthy of all princely commendations thau the French champion had done the day before. The third day St Anthony of Italy was chief chal- lenger in the tournament. Elis tent was the colour of the skies, his steed furnished with costly habiliments, his armour after the fashion of Barbary, his shield plated round about with steel, whereon was painted a golden eagle in a field of blue, which signified the ancient arms of Rome ; he had likewise the title of the Azure knight, and his matchless chivalry for that day, won the prize from all the Grecian knights. The fourth day, by the emperor’s appointment, the worthy knight St Andrew of Scotland obtained the honour to be the chief challenger for the tournament ; his tent was framed to represent a ship swimming upon the waves of the sea, environed by dolphins, tritons, and many strangely contrived mermaids ; upon the top FIFTH AND SIXTH DATS. 109 stood the picture of Neptune, the god of the sea, bearing in his hand a streamer, whereon was wrought, in crimson silk, a corner cross, which seemed to be his country’s arms ; he was called the Red knight, because his horse was covered with a bloody veil ; his worthy achievements obtained such favour in the emperor’s eyes, that he threw him his silver gauntlet, which was prized at a thousand sequins; and after his noble encounters, he enjoyed a sweet repose. The fifth day St Patrick of Ireland, as chief cham- pion, entered the lists upon an Irish palfrey, covered with a veil of green, attended by six sylvan knights, every one bearing upon his shoulder a blooming tree; his tent resembled a summer bower, at the entry whereof stood the picture of Flora, beautified with a wreath of sweet-smelling roses; he was named the Green knight; and his worthy prowess so daunted the defendants, that before the tournament began, they gave him the hon- our of the day. Upon the sixth day the heroic and noble-minded champion of Wales entered the lists upon a Tartar palfrey, covered with a veil of black to signify that a black and tragical day should befall those Grecian knights that durst test his fortitude : his tent was pitched in the form of a castle, in the west side of the lists; before the entry thereof hung a golden shield, whereon was pourtrayed a silver griffin rampant upon a golden helmet, which signified the ancient arms of Britain. His princely achievements not only obtained due commendation at the emperor’s hands, but from the whole assembly of the Grecian ladies, who ap- plauded him as the most noble knight that ever 110 SEVENTH AND LAST DAY. shivered lance, and the most fortunate champion that ever entered the Grecian court. Upon the seventh and last day of this honourable tournament, the famous and valiant knight at arms, St George of England, as chief challenger entered the lists upon a sable-coloured steed, betrapped with bars of burnished gold, his forehead beautified with a gor- geous plume of purple feathers, from which hung many pendants of gold; his armour was of the purest Lydian steel, nailed fast together with silver plates, his helmet engraven very curiously, beset with Indian pearl and jasper stones; before his breast- plate hung a silver tablet in a damask scarf, whereon was pictured a lion rampant in a bloody field, bearing three crowns upon its head: before his tent stood an ivory chariot, guarded by twelve coal-black negroes; in which his beloved lady and mistress, Sabra, sat upon a silver globe to behold the heroic encounters of her most noble and magnanimous champion, St George of England; his tent was as white as the swan’s feathers, glittering against the snu, supported by four elephants formed of the purest brass; from his helmet hung his lady’s glove, which he wore to maintain her excellent gifts of nature to exceed those of all ladies on the earth. These costly habiliments ravished the beholders with such unspeakable pleasure, that they stood gazing at him, not able to withdraw their eyes from so heavenly a sight. But when they beheld his victorious encounter against the Grecian knights, they supposed him to be the invincible tamer of that seven headed monster which climbed to the elements, offering to pull Jupiter from his throne. His steed never gave encounter to any HAPPY MEETING OP THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS. Ill knight, b,ut ho tumbled horse and man to the ground, where they lay for a time bereft of sense. The toui - - nament lasted that day from the rising of the sun till the shining evening star appeared; in which time he conquered five hundred of the hardiest knights then living in Asia, and shivered a thousand lances, to the wonderful admiration of the beholders. Thus were the seven days brought to an end by the seven worthy champions of Christendom ; in reward of whose noble achievements, the Grecian emperor, being a man that highly favoured knightly proceedings, gave them a golden tree with seven branches, to be divided equally amongst them. This honourable prize they conveyed to St George's pavilion, where, in dividing the branches, the seven champions discovered them- selves to each other, and related by what good fortune they had arrived at the Grecian court ; and this long- wished meeting so rejoiced their hearts, that they all accounted this happy day the most joyful that ever they beheld. And now, after the tournament was fully ended, and the knights had rested themselves some few days, recovering their wonted agility of body, they fell into a new exercise of pleasure, not appearing in glittering armour before the tilt, nor following the loud sounding drums and silver trumpets, but spending the time in courtly dances amongst their beloved ladies in more royalty than the Phrygian knights when they presented the autocrat of Asia with an enchanted mask. But their courtly pleasures did not long continue; for they were suddenly dashed with certain news of open war proclaimed against all Christendom: which hap- pened contrary to the expectation of the Christian 1 1 2 WAR DECLARED AGAINST CHRISTENDOM- knights. There arrived in the Grecian emperor’s palace a hundred heralds, from a hundred different provinces, who proclaimed utter defiance to all Chris- tian kingdoms in these words : “We, the high and mighty emperors of Asia and Africa, great commanders both by land and sea, proclaim, by general consent of all the eastern poten- tates, utter ruin and destruction to the kingdoms of Christendom, and to all those nations where any Christian knights are harboured : first, The Soldan of Persia, in reveDge of a bloody slaughter done in his palace, by an English champion ; Ptolemy, the Egyp- tian king, in revenge of his daughter violently taken away by the same knight ; Almidor, the black king of Morocco, in revenge of his queen, likewise taken away by the said English champion ; the great governor of Thessaly, in revenge of his daughters, taken away by a French knight ; the king of Jerusalem, in revenge of his daughter, taken away by a Spanish knight; the Em- peror of Tartary, in revenge of his son, Count Palatine, slain by the unhappy hand of the champion of Wales ; the Thracian monarch, in revenge of his vain travel after his seven daughters, now in custody of certain Christian knights : and in revenge of all which injuries, the kingdoms from the farthest parts of Prester John’s dominions to the borders of the Red Sea, have set down their hands and seals to assist in this war.” This proclamation was no sooner ended, than the Grecian emperor gave command to muster the greatest, strength that Greece could afford, to join with the pagans, to the utter ruin and confusion of Chris- tendom ; which bloody edict, or rather inhuman judg- departure op the champions. 113 ment, pronounced by the accursed infidels, compelled the Christian champions to a speedy departure, and every one to hasten to his own country, there to pro- vide for the discomfiture of the pagans. So after due consideration, the champions departed, in company of their betrothed ladies, who chose rather to live in their husbands’ bosoms, than with their unbelieving parents. After some few days they arrived in the spacious bay of Portugal, in which haven they vowed, by the honour of true knighthood, to meet again within six months, there to join all their Christian armies into one legion. Upon which plighted resolution, the worthy champions departed one from another: St George into England, St Denis into Prance, St James into Spain, St Anthony into Italy, St Andrew into Scotland, St Patrick into Ireland, St David into Wales. Whose pleasant plains they had not beheld for many years, and where their reception was as honourable as their hearts desired. CHAPTER XII. How the seven champions of Christendom arrived with all their troops in the bay of Portugal. The number of the Christian host. And how St George made an oration to the soldiers. After the seven champions of Christendom arrived in their native countries, and by true reports had blazed abroad to every prince's ear the bloody resolutions of the pagans, and how the provinces of Africa and Asia had mustered their forces for the invasion of Europe; all Christian kings, at the entreaty of the champions, i 114 ST GEORGE APPOINTED COMMANDER. appointed mighty armies of well-approved soldiers, both by sea and land, to defeat the infidels’ wicked intention. By the consent of Christendom, the noble and fortunate champion of England, St George, was appointed general-in-chief and principal leader of the armies, and the other six champions were elected as his council, and chief assistants in all matters that apper- tained either to the benefit of Christendom, or the furtherance of their proceedings. This war so fired the hearts of many youthful gentlemen, and so encouraged the minds of every common soldier, that some mortgaged their lands, and at their own charges furnished themselves : some sold their patrimonies to serve in these honourable wars ; and others forsook parents, kindred, wife, children, friends, and acquaintances, and without con- straint, offered themselves to follow so noble a general as the renowned champion of England, and to spend their blood in the just quarrel of their native country. To be brief, one might behold the streets of every town and city throughout Europe, enlivened with troops of soldiers, who thirsted after fame and honour. Then the joyful sound of thundering drums, and the echoes of silver trumpets, summoned them to arms; and they followed with as much willingness as the Grecians followed Agamemnon to the overthrow of Troy. The spring, which had now covered the earth with a new livery, was the time appointed for the Christian armies to meet in Portugal, there to join their several troops into one legion; the champions therefore bade adieu to their native countries, and with all speed buckled on their armour, hoisted their sails, and after a short CONCENTRATION OF THE ARMIES. 115 lime, a calm and prosperous gale cast them happily in the bay of Portugal. The first who arrived in that spacious haven was the noble champion St George, with one hundred thousand courageous English soldiers, whose forwardness be- tokened success, and their willing minds a joyful victory. His army set in battle array seemed to outrival the number of the Macedonian soldiers, wherewith valiant Alexander conquered the, western world ; his horsemen being in number twenty thousand, were armed in black corselets; their lances bound about with plates of steel, their steeds covered with mail, three times doubled; their colours were the blood-red cross, supported by a golden lion: his sturdy bowmen, whose conquering gray goose wing in former times had terrified the earth, being in number likewise twenty thousand, clad all in red mandilions, with caps of the same colour, bearing thereon likewise a silver cross, being the badge of honour of England; their bows of the strongest yew, and their arrows of the soundest ash, with forked heads of steel, and their feathers bound on with green wax and twisted silk: his musqueteers, being in number ten thousand, their muskets of the widest bore, with fire- locks wrought by curious workmanship, yet of such wonderful lightness, that they required no rest at all to ease their arms; his cavaliers were ten thousand of the smaller-sized men, but yet of as courageous minds as the tallest soldiers in his army: bis pike and bill men to guard the ensigns, thirty thousand, clad all in glittering armour: likewise followed ten thousand labouring pioneers, to undermine any town or castle, to entrench forts or camps, or to make a passage 116 ARRIVAL OF ST DAVID AND ST PATRICK. through hills and mountains like worthy Hannibal, when he made a way for his soldiers through the lofty Alps, that divide the countries of Italy and Spain. The next that arrived in the bay of Portugal was the princely-minded champion, St David of Wales, with an army of fifty thousand true-born Britons, furnished with all habiliments of war for so noble and valiant a service, to the high renown of his country, and true honour of hie race: their armour in richness was nothing inferior to the Englishmen ; their colours were a golden cross, supported by a silver griffin ; which escut- cheon signified the ancient arms of Wales: and no sooner had St George a sight of the valiant Britons, than he caused his musqueteers to salute them with a volley of shot, to express their joyful welcome on shore. And no sooner were the skies cleared from the smoke of the reeking powder, and St George discerned the magnanimous champion of Wales, who rode upon a milk-white palfrey in silver armour, guarded by a train of knights in purple vestures, than he greeted St David with kind courtesies, and accompanied him to the English tent, which had been erected close by the port, where for that night these two champions remained, spending the time in unspeakable pleasure: and upon the next day, St David departed to his own teut, which he had caused to be pitched a quarter of a league from the English army. The next that arrived on the fruitful shores of Por- tugal was St Patrick, the noble champion of Ireland, with an army likewise of fifty thousand, attired after a strange and wonderful manner: their furniture was of the skins of wild beasts, but yet more unpierceable St. Andrew of Scotland. ARRIVAL OP ST ANDREW. 117 than the strongest armour of proof. They bore in their hands mighty darts, tipped at the end with prickling steel, which the courageous and valiant Irish soldiers, by the agility of their arms, could throw a full flight shot, and with forcible strength would strike three or four inches into an oak. These hardy soldiers no sooner arrived on shore, than the English musqueteers gave them a princely welcome, and conducted the noble-minded St Patrick to the Eng- lish tent, where the three champions of England, Wales, and Ireland, passed the time laying down plans how to pitch their camps to the greatest disadvantage of the unbelieving enemy, and resolving which way they should march, and such-like devices, for their own safety, and the benefit of Christendom. The next that landed on the shores of Portugal was St Andrew, the worthy champion of Scotland, with threescore thousand well-approved soldiers; his horsemen, the old adventurous Galloways, clad in quilted jackets, with lanees of the Turkish fashion, thick and short, bearifig upon their beavers the arms of Scotland, which was a corner cross, supported by a young girl; his pikemen, the bold and hardy men of Orcady,who continually lie upon freezing mountains, icy rocks, and snowy valleys; together with the light-footed Caledonians, who, if occasion be, can climb the highest hills, and for nimbleness in running, outdo the swift-footed stag. These bold adventurous Scottish men, deserved as much honour at the English champion’s hands as any other nation; therefore he commanded his men, on their landing, to give them a noble reception, which they did, and conducted St Andrew to the English tent, 118 ARRIVAL OF THE OTHER CHAMPIONS. who, after he had given St George the courtesy of his country, departed to his tent, which was distant from the English tent a mile. The next that arrived was St Anthony, the champion of Italy, with a band of fourscore thousand brave Italian soldiers, mounted on warlike coursers ; every horseman attended by a negro, bearing in his hand a streamer of azure silk, with the arms of Italy thereon set in gold ; every footman furnished with approved furniture in as stately a manner as the Englishmen ; and they at their landing received as royal areception as the other nations, and St Anthony was as highly honoured by the English champion as any of the other Christian knights. The nest that arrived was St Denis, the victorious champion of France, with a band of fourscore thou- sand. With him marched dnkes of twelve several provinces, then under the government of the F rench king, every one at his own cost maintaining two thousand soldiers in these Christian wars ; their recep- tion was as glorious as the rest. The last of the Christian champions that arrived upon the fruitful shores of Portugal was the magnani- mous knight St James of Spain, with a band likewise of fourscore thousand; to maintain soldiers in defence of Christendom, he brought with him from the Spanish mines ten tons of refined gold ; and he no sooner landed his troops, than the six champions gave him the honourable welcome of a soldier, and ordained a solemu banquet for the general armies, whose nnmber exceeded five hundred thousand; these legions they conjoined into one royal camp, and placed their wings and squad- rons in order of battle, chiefly by direction of St ST GEORGE HARANGUES THE TROOPS. 119 George, the general-in-chief, by the consent of the Christian kings; whose countenance, after he had re- viewed the Christian armies, seemed to prognosticate a glorious victory, and to foretell a fatal overthrow to the unbelieving potentates ; and, still more to encour- age his valiant followers to persevere in their determina- tion, he pronounced this princely oration: “You men of Europe,” said he, “and my country- men, whose conquering fortunes never yet have feared the enemies of Christ, you see we have forsaken our native lands, and committed our destinies to the queen of heaven, not to light in any unjust quarrel, but in the true cause of Israel’s Anointed ; not against nature to climb to the heavens, like Nimrod and the giants in former times, but to prevent the invasion of Christendom, the ruin of Europe, and the intended overthrow of the Christian provinces. The bloody- minded infidels have mustered legions, in numbers like blades of grass that grow upon the flourishing- downs of Italy, or the stars of heaven in the coldest winter’s night, threatening to deluge our countries with seas of blood, scatter our streets with mangled limbs, and convert our glorious cities into flames of quenchless fire ; therefore, dear countrymen, live not to see our Christian maidens dragged along our streets like guiltless lambs to a bloody slaughter; nor our harmless babes, with bruised brains dashed against flinty stones ; nor our feeble age, whose hair resembles silver mines, lie bleeding on the marble pavement ; but like true Christian soldiers fight in the quarrel of your countries. < What though the Pagans be in number ten to one, yet heaven I know will fight for Christen- 1 '.0 ENTHUSIASM OF THE SOLDIERS.