 Chapter 14 Part 1 of Myths and Legends of All Nations. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Graham Redman. Myths and Legends of All Nations by Logan Marshall. Chapter 14 The Good King Arthur Part 1 Probably everyone knows the story of the Great King Arthur, who, the legends say, ruled in Britain so many, many years ago, and gathered about him in his famous round table, Knights of Splendid Courage, Tried and Proven. So well-loved was the story of Arthur in other countries, as well as in England, that it was among the very first works ever printed in Europe, and it was still welcomed centuries later when the great English poet Alfred Tennyson told it in his Iddils of the King. The boy Arthur was really the son of King Uther Pendragon, but few persons knew of his birth. Uther had given him into the care of the Enchanter Merlin, who had carried him to the castle of Sir Hector, an old friend of Uther's. Footnote. This name is otherwise given as Sir Ector and by Tennyson as Sir Anton. End of footnote. Here the young prince lived as a child of the house. Now Merlin was a very wise man, and when King Uther died several years later, the nobleman asked his advice in choosing a new king. Gather together in St Stephen's Church in London on Christmas Day was all the Enchanter answered. So the nights assembled, and when the mass was over and they passed out into the churchyard, there they beheld a large block of stone upon which rested a heavy anvil. The blade of a jewelled sword was sunk deeply into the anvil. Wondering the nobleman drew near, one of them discovered an inscription upon the hilt which said that none but the man who could draw out the sword should ever rule in Uther's place. One by one they tried, but the sword was firmly embedded. No one could draw it forth. Arthur was only a baby at this time, but some years later Sir Ector travelled up to London bringing with him his own son Sir Kay and his foster son Arthur. Sir Kay had just reached manhood and was to take part in his first tournament. Imagine his distress, therefore, when on arriving at the tourney ground he discovered that he had forgotten to bring his sword. I will fetch it for you," cried the young Arthur, anxious to be of service. He found the apartment of Sir Kay closed and locked, but he was determined to get a sword for his brother and remembering the huge anvil he had seen in the churchyard he hurried toward it. Grasping the hilt of the projecting sword he drew it out easily. Happy over his good fortune Arthur returned to the tourney ground and gave the new sword to his foster brother. Sir Ector, who stood near, recognised it. Where did you get that sword? he asked. From the great anvil in the churchyard of St Stephen's I drew it, was the answer. But Sir Ector still doubted, and when the tournament was over he and all the principal nobles of the realm rode back to the churchyard. Arthur replaced the sword in the anvil and stood aside while all present tried to draw it forth. None succeeded. Then Arthur again stepped up, grasped the hilt, and pulled out the blade. The king, the king, the people tried, for they knew that at last they had found a worthy successor to the good King Uther. So Arthur was crowned king and entered upon that wise and kingly rule of which the praises have so often been sung. Following are the stories of the coming and passing of Arthur as they are related by Tennyson, the coming of Arthur. Leodogram, the king of Camelyard, had one fair daughter and none other child, and she was fairest of all flesh on earth, Guinevere, and in her his one delight. For many a petty king ere Arthur came ruled in this isle, and ever waging war each upon other wasted all the land, and still from time to time the heathen host swarmed overseas and harried what was left. And so there grew great tracts of wilderness wherein the beast was ever more and more, but man was less and less, till Arthur came. For first Aurelius lived and fought and died, and after him King Uther fought and died, but either failed to make the kingdom one. And after these King Arthur for a space and through the poisons of his table-round drew all their petty princetums under him, their king, and head, and made a realm and reigned. And thus the land of Camelyard was waste, thick with wet woods and many a beast therein, and none or few to scare or chase the beast, so that wild dog and wolf and boar and bear came night and day, and rooted in the fields, and wallowed in the gardens of the king. And ever and a none the wolf would steal the children and devour, but now and then her own brood lost or dead lent her fierce teat to human sucklings, and the children housed in her foul den there at their meat would growl and mock their foster mother on four feet, till, straightened, they grew up to wolf-like men worse than the wolves. And King Lyodagran groaned for the Roman legions here again and Caesar's eagle. Then his brother King Uryen assailed him, last a heathen horde reddening the sun with smoke and earth with blood, and on the spike that split the mother's heart spitting the child break on him till amazed he knew not whether he should turn for aid. But, for he heard of Arthur newly crowned, though not without an uproar made by those who cried, he is not Uther's son, the king sent to him saying, Arise and help us thou, for here between the man and beast we die. And Arthur yet had done no deed of arms, but heard the call and came, and Guinevere stood by the castle walls to watch him pass. But since he neither wore on helm or shield the golden symbol of his kinglyhood, but rode a simple night among his knights, and many of these in richer arms than he, she saw him not, or marked not if she saw one among many, though his face was bare. But Arthur, looking downward as he passed, felt the light of her eyes into his life smite on the sudden, yet rode on and pitched his tents beside the forest. Then he draved the heathen, after slew the beast and felled the forest, letting in the sun, and made broad pathways for the hunter and the knight, and so returned. For while he lingered there, a doubt that ever smoldered in the hearts of those great lords and barons of his realm flashed forth and into war. For most of these, collieging with the score of petty kings, made head against him crying, Who is he that he should rule us? Who hath proven him King Uther's son? For lo, we look at him, and find no face nor bearing, limbs nor voice, alike to those of Uther whom we knew. This is the son of Gaulowice, not the king. This is the son of Anton, not the king. And Arthur, passing thence to battle, felt travail and throes and agonies of the life, desiring to be joined with Guinevere, and thinking, as he rode, Her father said that there between the man and beast they die. Shall I not lift her from this land of beasts up to my throne, and side by side with me? What happiness to reign a lonely king vexed? Oh ye stars that shudder over me, oh earth that soundest hollow under me, vexed with waste dreams! For saving I be joined to her that is the fairest under heaven, I seem as nothing in the mighty world, and cannot will my will nor work my work wholly, nor make myself in mine own realm victor and lord. But where I joined with her, then might we live together as one life, and reigning with one will in everything, have power on this dark land to lighten it, and power on this dead world to make it live. Thereafter, as he speaks who tells the tale, when Arthur reached a field of battle bright with pitched pavilions of his foe, the world was all so clear about him that he saw the smallest rock far on the faintest hill, and even in high day the morning star. So when the king had set his banner broad, at once from either side with trumpet blast and shouts and clarion shrilling unto blood, the long-lanced battle let their horses run, and now the barons and the kings prevailed, and now the king, as here and there that war went swaying. But the powers who walk the world made lightnings and great thunders over him, and dazed all eyes, till Arthur by main might, and mightier of his hands with every blow, and leading all his knighthood through the kings Carados, Urrian, Cradlemont of Wales, Claudius and Clarion of Northumberland, the king Brandagoras of Latin Gore, with Anguisant of Erinn, Morghanor, and Lot of Orkney. Then, before a voice as dreadful as the shout of one who sees to one who sins, and deems himself alone and all the world asleep, they swerved and break flying, and Arthur called to stay the brands that hacked among the flyers, Ho! they yield! So like a painted battle the war stood silenced, the living quiet as the dead, and in the heart of Arthur joy was lured. He laughed upon his warrior whom he loved and honoured most, Thou dost not doubt me king, so well thine arm hath wrought for me to-day. Sir and my liege, he cried, the fire of God descends upon thee in the battlefield, I know thee for my king. Where at the two, for each had warded either in the fight, Swear on the field of death a deathless love. And Arthur said, Man's word is God in man, Let chance, what will, I trust thee to the death. Then quickly from the Fortenfield he sent Ulfius and Brastias and Bedivere his new-made knights to King Lyodagran, Saying, if I in ought have served thee well, Give me thy daughter Gwynevere to wife. Whom, when he heard Lyodagran in heart debating, How should I that am a king, however much he helped me at my need, With my one daughter saving to a king and a king's son, Lifted his voice and called a hoary man his chamberlain, To whom he trusted all things, and of him required his counsel. Knowest thou ought of Arthur's birth? Then spake the hoary chamberlain and said, Sir King, there be but two old men that know, And each is twice as old as I, And one is Merlin, the wise man that ever served King Uther through his magic art, And one is Merlin's master, so they call him Blaise, Who taught him magic. But the scholar ran before the master, And so far that Blaise laid magic by, And sat him down and wrote all things, And whatsoever Merlin did, in one great anal-book, Where after years will learn the secret of our Arthur's birth. To whom the King Lyodagran replied, O friend, had I been half as well by this King Arthur as by thee today, Then beast and man had had their share of me, But someon here before us yet once more Ulfius and Brastias and Bedevia. Then, when they came before him, The King said, I have seen the cuckoo chased by lesser fowl and reason in the chase, But wherefore now do these your lords stir up the heat of war, Some calling Arthur born of Gaulois, others of Anton. Tell me ye yourselves, hold ye this Arthur for King Uther's son? And Ulfius and Brastias answered I. Then Bedevia, the first of all his knights, Knighted by Arthur at his crowning spake, For bold in heart and act and word, Was he whenever slander breathed against the King, Sir, there be many rumours on this head, For there be those who hate him in their hearts, Call him base-born, and since his ways are sweet, And theirs are bestial, hold him less than man, And there be those who deem him more than man, And dream he dropped from heaven. But my belief in all this matter, So ye care to learn, Sir, for ye know that in King Uther's time, The Prince and Warrior Gaulois, He that held Tentagel Castle by the Cornish Sea, Was wedded with a winsome wife Egan, And daughters, had she borne him, One whereof Lot's wife, the Queen of Orkney, Bellesend, hath ever like a loyal sister cleaved to Arthur, But a son she had not borne, And Uther cast upon her eyes of love, But she, a stainless wife to Gaulois, So loathed the bright dishonour of his love, That Gaulois and King Uther went to war, And overthrown was Gaulois and Slayne. Then Uther in his wrath and heat, Besieged Egan within Tentagel, Where her men, seeing the mighty swarm About their walls, left her and fled, And Uther entered in, And there was none to call to but himself. So, compassed by the power of the King, Enforced she was to wed him in her tears, And with a shameful swiftness. Afterward not many moons, King Uther died himself, moaning and wailing For an heir to rule after him, Lest the realm should go to rack. And that same night, the night of the new year, By reason of the bitterness and grief That vexed his mother, All before his time was Arthur born, And all as soon as born delivered The secret postangate to Merlin, To behold and far apart until his hour should come, Because the lords of that fierce day Were as the lords of this wild beasts, And surely would have torn the child Peace-meal among them had they known, For each but sought to rule For his own self and hand, And many hated Uther for the sake of Gaulois, Wherefore Merlin took the child, Born to Sir Anton, an old knight And ancient friend of Uther, And his wife nursed the young prince And reared him with her own, And no man knew, And ever since the lords have fought Like wild beasts among themselves So that the realm has gone to rack. But now this year, when Merlin, For his hour had come, Brought Arthur forth and set him In the hall proclaiming, Here is Uther's heir, your king, A hundred voices cried away with him, No king of ours, a son of Gaulois, he, Or else the child of Anton and no king, Or else base-born. Yet Merlin threw his craft, And while the people clamoured for a king, Had Arthur crowned, But after the great lords banded, And so break out in open war. Then, while the king debated with himself, If Arthur were the child of shamefulness, Or born the son of Gaulois after death, Or Uther's son and born before his time, Or whether there were truth in anything Said by these three, There came to Camelyard with Gawain And young Modrid, her two sons, Lot's wife, the queen of Orkney, Whom as he could, not as he would, The king made feast forth, Saying as they sat at meet. A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas, Ye come from Arthur's court, Victor his men report him, Ye but ye think ye this king, So many those that hate him, And so strong so few his knights, However brave they be, Hath body in now to hold his foemen down. O king, she cried, And I will tell thee, Few, few, but all brave, All of one mind with him. For I was near him when the savage Gels of Uther's peerage died, And Arthur sat crowned on the dais, And his warriors cried, Be thou the king, and we will work Thy will, who love thee. Then the king in low deep tones And simple words of great authority Bound them by so straight vows To his own self, that when they rose, Nighted from kneeling, Some were pale as at the passing Of a ghost, some flushed, And others dazed, as one who wakes Half-blinded at the coming of a light. But when he spake and cheered His table round with large, Divine and comfortable words Beyond my tongue to tell thee, I beheld from eye to eye Through all their order flash A momentary likeness of the king, And ere it left their faces Through the cross, and those Around it and the crucified, Down from the casement over Arthur, Smote flame-color, vert, and azure In three rays, one falling upon Each of three fair queens, Who stood in silence near his throne, The friends of Arthur gazing on him, Tall with bright, sweet faces, Who will help him at his need. And there I saw Mage Merlin, Whose vast wit and hundred winters Are but as the hands of loyal Vassals toiling for their liege, And near him stood the lady of the lake, Who knows a subtler magic than his own, Clothed in white Samite mystic wonderful. She gave the king his huge cross-hilted sword Whereby to drive the heathen out. A mist of incense curled about her, And her face well nigh was hidden In the minster gloom. But there was heard among the holy hymns As of the waters. For she dwells down in a deep, Calm whatsoever storms may shake the world, And when the surface rolls hath power To walk the waters like our lord. There likewise I beheld Excalibur Before him at his crowning-born, The sword that rose from out the bosom Of the lake. And Arthur rode across and took it With jewels elf in urim on the hilt, Bewildering heart and eye. The blade so bright that men are blinded by it, On one side graven in the oldest Tongue of all this world, take me. But turn the blade and ye shall see, And written in the speech ye speak yourself, Cast me away. And said was Arthur's face taking it, But old Merlin counseled him, Take thou and strike, the time to cast away Is yet far off. So this great brand the king took, And by this will beat his foeman down. There at Lyodagran rejoiced, But thought to sift his doubtings to the last, And asked, fixing full eyes of question on her face, The swallow and the swift are near again, But thou art closer to this noble prince Being his own dear sister. And she said, Daughter of Galois and Iguern, am I? And therefore Arthur's sister asked the king. She answered, These be secret things, And signed to those two sons to pass And let them be. The way in went, and breaking into song, Sprang out, and followed by his flying hair, Ran like a colt and leapt at all he saw. But Modred laid his ear beside the doors, And there half heard, The same that afterwards struck for the throne, And striking found his doom. And then the queen made answer, What no I, For dark my mother was in eyes and hair, And dark in hair and eyes, am I? And dark was Galois, Yea, and dark was Uther too, Well-nigh to blackness. But this king is fair Beyond the race of Britons and of men. Moreover, always in my mind I hear a cry from out the dawning of my life, A mother weeping, And I hear her say, Oh, that he had some brother, pretty one, To guard thee on the rough ways of the world. I said the king, And hear ye such a cry, But when did Arthur chance upon thee first? Oh, king, she cried, And I will tell thee true, He found me first when yet a little maid, Beaten I had been for a little fault, Whereof I was not guilty, And out I ran, And myself down on a bank of heath, And hated this fair world and all therein, And wept and wished that I were dead. And he, I know not whether of himself he came, Or brought by Merlin, Who they say can walk unseen at pleasure, He was at my side, And spake sweet words, And comforted my heart, And dried my tears, And my child with me. And many a time he came, And evermore as I grew greater, Grew with me, And sad at times he seemed, And sad with him was I. Stern, too, at times, And then I loved him not, But sweet again, And then I loved him well. And now of late I see him less and less, But those first days Had golden hours for me, For then I surely thought he would be king. But let me tell thee now another tale, For Blaze, our Merlin's master as they say, Died but of late, And sent his cry to me To hear him speak before he left his life. Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay the mage, And when I entered told me that himself Merlin ever served about the king Uther Before he died. And on the night when Uther in Tintagel Passed away moaning and wailing for an air, The two left the still king, And passing forth to breathe, Then from the castle gateway by the chasm Descending through the dismal night, A night in which the bounds of heaven And earth were lost, Beheld so high upon the dreary deeps It seemed in heaven, A ship, the shape thereof, A dragon winged, And all from stem to stern, Bright with a shining people on the decks, And gone as soon as seen. And then the two dropped to the cove And watched the great sea fall, Wave after wave, Each mightier than the last, Till last a ninth one, Gathering half the deep And full of voices, Slowly rose and plunged roaring, And all the wave was in a flame, And down the wave and in the flame Was born a naked babe, And rode to Merlin's feet, Who stooped and caught the babe and cried, The king, here is an air for Uther! And the fringe of that great breaker Sweeping up the strand, And lashed at the wizard as he spake the word, And all at once all round him rose in fire, So that the child and he were clothed in fire, And presently thereafter followed calm, Free sky and stars. And this same child, he said, Is he who reigns? Nor could I part in peace till this were told, And saying this the seer went through The straight and dreadful pass of death Not ever to be questioned any more, Save on the further side. But when I met Merlin and asked him If these things were truth, The shining dragon and the naked child Descending in the glory of the seas, He laughed, as is his won't, And answered me in riddling triplets Of old time, and said, Rain, rain and sun, a rainbow in the sky, A young man will be wiser by and by, An old man's wit may wander ere he die, Rain, rain and sun, a rainbow on the lee, And truth is this to me and that to thee, And truth or clothed or naked let it be, Rain, sun and rain and the free blossom blows, Sun, rain and sun, and where is he who knows? From the great deep to the great deep he goes. So Merlin, riddling, angered me, But thou fear not to give this king Thine only child, Guinevere, So great bards of him will sing hereafter And dark sayings from of old, Ranging and ringing through the minds of men, And echoed by old folk beside their files For comfort after their wage-work is done, Speak of the king. And Merlin in our time hath spoken also, Not in jest, and sworn, though men may wound him, That he will not die, but pass again to come, And then or now utterly smite the heathen underfoot, Till these and all men hail him for their king. She spake, and King Leodogran rejoiced, But musing, shall I answer, yea or nay, Doubted and drowsed, nodded and slept, And saw dreaming a slope of land That ever grew field after field up to a height, The peak haze hidden, and thereon a phantom king Now looming and now lost, And on the slope the sword rose, the hind fell, The herd was driven, fire glimpsed, And all the land from roof and rick In drifts of smoke before a rolling wind Streamed to the peak, and mingled with the haze, And made it thicker, while the phantom king Sent out at times a voice, and here or there Stood one who pointed toward the voice, The rest slew on and burnt, crying, No king of ours, no son of Uther, And no king of ours. Till, with a wink, his dream was changed, The haze descended, and the solid earth Became as nothing, but the king stood out In heaven crowned, and Leodogran awoke, And sent Ulfius and Brastias and Bedivere Back to the court of Arthur, answering, Ye. Then Arthur charged his warrior whom he loved And honoured most Sir Lancelot to ride forth And bring the queen, and watched him from the gates, And Lancelot passed away among the flowers, For then was latter April, and returned Among the flowers in May with Guinevere, To whom arrived, by Dubric the High Saint Chief of the church in Britain, And before the stateliest of her Ulter shrines, The king that mourn was married. While in stainless white, the fair beginners Of a nobler time, and glorying in their vows And him, his knights stood round him And rejoicing in his joy. Far shone the fields of May through open door, The sacred altar blossomed white with May, The sun of May descended on their king, They gazed on all earth's beauty in their queen, Rolled incense, and there passed Along the hymns a voice as of the waters, While the two swear at the shrine Of Christ a deathless love. And Arthur said, Behold, thy doom is mine, Let chance what will, I love thee to the death. To whom the queen replied with drooping eyes, King and my lord, I love thee to the death. And Holy Dubric spread his hands and spake, Rain ye, and live, and love, And make the world other, And may thy queen be one with thee, And all this order of thy table round Fulfill the boundless purpose of their king. So Dubric said, But when they left the shrine, Great lords from Rome before the portal Stood in scornful stillness gazing as they passed. Then while they paced a city all on fire With sun and cloth of gold, the trumpets blew, And Arthur's knighthood sang before the king, Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May, Blow trumpet, the long night has rolled away, Blow through the living world, let the king reign. Shall Rome or Heathen rule in Arthur's realm? Flash, brand, and lance, fall battleaxe upon helm, Fall battleaxe and flash brand, let the king reign. Strike for the king and live, his knights have heard That God hath told the king a secret word. Fall battleaxe and flash brand, let the king reign. Blow trumpet, he will lift us from the dust, Blow trumpet, live the strength and die the lust, Clang battleaxe and clash brand, let the king reign. Strike for the king and die, and if thou dyest, The king is king, and ever wills the highest. Clang battleaxe and clash brand, let the king reign. Blow, for our son is mighty in his may, Blow, for our son is mightier day by day, Clang battleaxe and clash brand, let the king reign. The king will follow Christ and we, the king, In whom High God hath breathed a secret thing. Fall battleaxe and clash brand, let the king reign. So sang the knighthood moving to their hall. There at the banquet, those great lords from Rome, The slowly fading mistress of the world, Strode in and claimed their tribute as of yore. But Arthur spake, Behold, for these have sworn To wage my wars and worship me their king. The old order changes, yielding place to new, And we that fight for our fair Father Christ, Seeing that ye be grown too weak and old To drive the heathen from your Roman wall, No tribute will we pay. So those great lords drew back in wroth, And Arthur strove with Rome. And Arthur and his knighthood for a space Were all one will, and through that strength The king drew in the petty princetums under him, Fought, and in twelve great battles Overcame the heathen hordes, And made a realm and reigned. End of Chapter 14 The Good King Arthur Part 1 Recording by Graham Redman Chapter 14 Part 2 Of Myths and Legends of All Nations This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Graham Redman Myths and Legends of All Nations by Logan Marshall Chapter 14 The Good King Arthur Part 2 The Passing of Arthur That story, which the bold Sir Bedivere First made and latest left of all the knights Told when the man was no more than a voice From the white winter of his age To those with whom he dwelt, new faces, other minds. For on their march to westward, Bedivere, Who slowly paced among the slumbering host, Heard in his tent the moanings of the king, I found him in the shining of the stars, I marked him in the flowering of his fields, But in his ways with men I find him not. I waged his wars, and now I pass and die. O me, for why is all around us here As if some lesser god had made the world But had not forced to shape it as he would Till the high god behold it from beyond And enter it and make it beautiful? Or else as if the world were wholly fair But that these eyes of men are dense and dim And have not power to see it as it is? Perchance, because we see not to the close. For I, being simple, thought to work his will And have but stricken with the sword in vain. And all whereon I leaned in wife and friend Traitor to my peace, and all my realm Reels back into the beast and is no more. My god, thou hast forgotten me in my death. Nay, god, my Christ, I pass, but shall not die. Then, ere that last weird battle in the west There came on Arthur sleeping, Killed in Lancelot's war, the ghost of Gawain Blown along a wandering wind, And passed his ear when shrilling Hollow, hollow, hollow, all delight. Hail, king, tomorrow thou shalt pass away. Farewell, there is an isle of rest for thee And I am blown along a wandering wind And hollow, hollow, hollow, all delight. And fainter onward, like wild birds That change their season in the night And wail their way from cloud to cloud Down the long wind the dream shrilled. But in going mingled with dim cries Far in the moonlit haze among the hills As of some lonely city sacked by night When all is lost, and wife and child With wail pass to new lords. And Arthur woke and called, Who spake, a dream? O light upon the wind, thine Gawain was the voice. Are these dim cries thine? Or doth all that haunts the waste And wild mourn, knowing it will go along with me? This heard the bolts of bedivere, And spake, O me, my king, Let pass whatever will, Elves and the harmless glamour of the field. But in their stead thy name and glory Kling to all high places like a golden cloud For ever. But as yet thou shalt not pass. Light was Gawain in life, And light in death is Gawain For the ghost is as the man. And care not thou for dreams from him, Arise, I hear the steps of Maudred in the west And with him many of thy people And knights once thine whom thou has loved But grosser groan than heathen, Spitting at their vows and thee. Right well in heart they know thee for the king. Arise, go forth and conquer as of old. Then spake, King Arthur, to subbedivere, Far other is this battle in the west Where to we move than when we strove in youth And break the petty kings and fought with Rome Or thrust the heathen from the Roman wall And shook him through the north. Ill doom is mine to war against my people And my knights. The king who fights his people Fights himself. And they my knights who loved me once The stroke that strikes them dead Is as my death to me. Yet let us hence and find or feel away Through this blind haze Which ever since I saw one lying in the dust At armsbury hath folded in the passes Of the world. Then rose the king and moved his host by night And ever pushed some Maudred league by league Back to the sunset bound of Lioness A land of old upheaven from the abyss by fire To sink into the abyss again Where fragments of forgotten people's dwelt And the long mountains ended in a coast Of ever-shifting sand And far away the phantom circle of a moaning sea There the pursuer could pursue no more And he that fled no further fly the king And there that day when the great light Of heaven burned at his lowest in the rolling year On the waste sand by the waste sea they closed Nor ever yet had Arthur Fort a fight Like this last dim, weird battle of the west A death-white mist slept over land and sea Whereof the chill to him who breathed it Drew down with his blood till all his heart Was cold with formless fear And even on Arthur fell confusion Since he saw not whom he fought For friend and foe were shadows in the mist And friend slew friend not knowing whom he slew And some had visions out of golden youth And some beheld the faces of old ghosts Look in upon the battle And in the mist was many a noble deed Many a base and chance and craft And strength in single fights And ever and a non with host to host Shocks and the splintering spear The hard-mailed hewn, shield-breaking And the clash of brands, the crash Of battle-axes on shattered helms And shrieks after the Christ Of those who falling down looked up For heaven and only saw the mist And shouts of heathen and the traitor knights Oaths, insult, filth, and monstrous blasphemies Sweat, writhing, anguish, laboring Of the lungs in that close mist And cryings for the light, moans Of the dying and voices of the dead Lost as by some one deathbed After wail of suffering silence follows Or through death or death-like swoon Thus over all that shore save For some whisper of the seething seas A dead hush fell. But when the dolerous day grew drearier Toward twilight-falling came a bitter wind Clear from the north and blew the mist aside And with that wind the tide rose And the pale king glanced across The field of battle. But no man was moving there. Nor any cry of Christian heard thereon Nor yet of heathen. Only the one wave break in among dead faces To and fro swaying the helpless hands And up and down tumbling the hollow helmets Of the fallen and shivered brands That once had fought with Rome And rolling far along the gloomy shores The voice of days of old and days to be Then spake King Arthur to subbedivere And whiter than the mist that all day long Had held the field of battle was the king Here is thou this great voice that shakes the world And wastes the narrow realm whereon we move And beats upon the faces of the dead My dead, as though they had not died for me Obedivere, for on my heart hath fallen confusion Till I know not what I am, nor whence I am Nor whether I be king. Behold, I seem but king among the dead Then spake the boulds of bedivere My king, king everywhere, and so the dead Have kings there also will I worship thee as king Yet still thy life is whole And still I live who love thee But who hates thee, he that brought the heathen Back among us, yonder stands modred Unharmed the traitor of thine house Then spake the king, my house had been my doom But call not thou this traitor of my house Who hath but dwelt beneath one roof with me My house are rather they who swear my vows Yea, even while they break them, owned me king And well for thee, saying in my dark hour When all the purpose of my throne hath failed That quick or dead thou holdest me for king King am I, whatsoever be there cry And one last act of kinghood Shalt thou see yet ere I pass And uttering this the king made at the man Then modred smote his leech hard on that helm Which many a heathen sword had beaten thin While Arthur at one blow striking the last stroke With Excalibur slew him And all but slain himself he fell So all day long the noise of battle Roled among the mountains by the winter sea Until king Arthur's table, man by man Had fallen in lioness about their lord king Arthur Then, because his wound was deep The bold subbedivere uplifted him And bore him to a chapel neither field A broken chancel with a broken cross That stood on a dark strait of barren land On one side lay the ocean And on one lay a great water And the moon was full Then spake king Arthur to subbedivere The sequel of today Unsolders all the goodliest fellowship Of famous knights whereof this world holds record Such as sleep they sleep The men I loved I think that we shall never more At any future time delight ourselves With talk of nightly deeds Walking about the gardens and the halls Of camelot as in the days that were I perish by this people which I made Though Merlin swear that I should Come again to rule once more But let what will be be I am so deeply smitten through the helm That without help I cannot last till morn Thou, therefore, take my brand Excalibur Which was my pride For thou rememberest how in those old days One summer noon an arm rose up From out the bosom of the lake Clothed in white samite mystic wonderful Holding the sword And how I rode across and took it And have worn it like a king And wheresoever I am sung Or told in after-time This also shall be known But now delay not Take Excalibur and fling him far Into the middle-mir Watch what thou seest And lightly bring me word To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere It is not me, Sir King, to leave The thus aidless alone And smitten through the helm A little thing may harm a wounded man Yet I, thy haste, will all perform at full Watch what I see And lightly bring thee word So saying from the ruined shrine His stepped, and in the moon Athwart the place of tombs Where lay the mighty bones Of ancient men, old knights And over them the sea-wind sang shrill Chill with flakes of foam He, stepping down by zig-zag paths And juts of pointed rock Came on the shining levels of the lake There drew he forth the brand Excalibur And ear him drawing it The winter moon brightening the skirts Of a long cloud ran forth And sparkled keen with frost Against the hilt For all the half twinkled with diamond sparks Myriads of topaz lights And jacinth work of subtlest jewellery He gazed so long that both his eyes Were dazzled as he stood This way and that dividing the swift mind Inact to throw. But at the last it seemed better To leave Excalibur concealed there In the many knotted water flags That whistled stiff and dry about the marge. So strode he back slow to the wounded king. Then spake King Arthur to Sebedivir, Hast thou performed my mission which I gave? What is it thou hast seen or what hast heard? And answer made the bold Sebedivir, I heard the ripple washing in the reeds And the wild water lapping on the crag. To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale, Thou hast betrayed thy nature and thy name, Not rendering true answer as besieged thy fealty Nor like a noble knight, for sure a sign had followed, Either hand or voice or else a motion of the mere. This is a shameful thing for men to lie. But now I charge thee quickly go again, As thou art leaf and deer, And do the thing I bad thee, Watch and lightly bring me word. Then went Sebedivir the second time across the ridge, And paced beside the mere, Counting the dewy pebbles fixed in thought. But when he saw the wonder of the hilt, How curiously and strangely chased, He smote his palms together and he cried aloud, And if indeed I cast the brand away, Surely a precious thing, one worthy note, Should thus be lost forever from the earth, Which might have pleased the eyes of many men. What good should follow this if this were done? What harm undone? Deep harm to disobey, Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. Were it well to obey then, If a king demand an act unprofitable against himself? The king is sick and knows not what he does. What record or what relic of my lord Should be to after time but empty breath And rumours of a doubt. But were this kept stored In some treasure-house of mighty kings, Someone might show it at a just of arms, Saying King Arthur's sword Excalibur, Wrought by the lonely maiden of the lake. Nine years she wrought it sitting in the deeps Upon the hidden bases of the hills. So might some old man speak in the after-time To all the people winning reverence. But now much honour and much fame were lost. So spake he clouded with his own conceit And hid Excalibur the second time, And so strode back slow to the wounded king. Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily, What is it thou hast seen, or what hast heard? And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere. I heard the water lapping on the crag And the long ripple washing in the reeds. To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrought, Arm-miserable and unkind, untrue, Unnightly traitor-hearted, woe is me! Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widowed of the power in his eye That bowed the will. I see thee, what thou art! For thou, the latest left of all my knights, In whom should meet the offices of all, The woods betray me for the precious hilt, Either from lust of gold, Or like a girl valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes? Yet for a man may fail in duty twice, And the third time may prosper, Get thee hence. But if thus spare to fling Excalibur, I will arise and slay thee with my hands. Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran, And leaping down the ridges lightly, Plunged among the bulrush-beds, And clutched the sword, and strongly fuelled, And threw it. The great brand made lightnings in the splendour of the moon, And flashing round and round and world in an arch, Shocked like a streamer of the northern morn, Seen where the moving aisles of winter shook by night, With noises of the northern sea. So flashed and fell the brand Excalibur. But ere he dipped the surface, Rose and arm clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, And caught him by the hilt, and brandished him three times, And drew him under in the mirror, And lightly went the other to the king. Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath, Now see I by thine eyes that this is done. Speak out, what is it thou hast heard or seen? And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere, Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, Lest the gems should blind my purpose, For I never saw, nor shall see, Here or elsewhere till I die, Not though I live three lives of mortal men, So great a miracle as yonder hilt. Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him, But when I looked again, behold an arm, Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, That caught him by the hilt, And brandished him three times, And drew him under in the mirror. And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard, My end draws nigh, it is time that I were gone, Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight, And bear me to the margin, Yet I fear my wound hath taken cold, And I shall die. So saying from the pavement he half rose, Slowly with pain reclining on his arm, And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes, As in a picture, him, Sir Bedivere, Remorsefully regarded through his tears, And would have spoken, but he found not words. Then took with care, and kneeling on one knee, Or both his shoulders drew the languid hands, And rising bore him through the place of tombs. But as he walked, King Arthur panted hard, Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed, When all the house is mute. So sighed the King muttering and murmuring at his ear, Quick, quick, I fear it is too late, And I shall die. But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge, Clothed with his breath, And looking as he walked larger than human On the frozen hills. He heard that deep behind him, And a cry before. His own thought drove him like a goad. Dry clashed his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, And all too left and right the bare black cliff Clanged round him, as he based his feet On juts of slippery crank that rang Sharp smitten with the dint of armoured heels, And on a sudden low the level lake And the long glories of the winter moon. Then saw they how their hoe for dusky barge, Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern beneath them, And descending they were aware that all the decks Were dense with stately forms, Black-stolled, black-hooded, like a dream. By these three queens with crowns of gold, And from them rose a cry that shivered To the tingling stars, And as it were one voice, an agony of lamentation, Like a wind that shrills all night in a wasteland Where no one comes or hath come Since the making of the world. Then murmured Arthur, Place me in the barge. So to the barge they came. There those three queens put forth their hands And took the king and wept. But she that rose the tallest of them all, And fairest laid his head upon her lap And loosed the shattered cask, And chafed his hands, and called him by his name, Complaining loud, and dropping bitter tears Against a brow striped with dark blood. For all his face was white and colourless, And like the withered moon smote By the fresh beam of the springing east. And all his greaves and queases dashed With drops of onset, and the light and lustrous curls That made his forehead like a rising sun High from the day is thrown, were parched with dust, Or clotted into points and hanging loose, Mixed with the nightly growth that fringed his lips. So, like a shattered column, lay the king. Not like that Arthur, who is lance in rest From spur to plume a star of tournament Shot through the lists at Camelot, And charged before the eyes of ladies and of kings. Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere, Ah, my lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead When every morning brought a noble chance And every chance brought out a noble night. Such times had been not since the light That led the holy elders with the gift of myrrh. But now the whole round table is dissolved Which was an image of the mighty world. And I, the last, go forth companionless And the days darken round me and the years Among new men, strange faces, other minds. And slowly answered Arthur from the barge The old order changes, yielding place to new, And God fulfills himself in many ways Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself, what comfort is in me? I have lived my life, and that which I have done May he within himself make pure. But thou, if thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy voice rise like a fountain For me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain? If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend. For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now, farewell, I am going a long way With these thou seest, if indeed I go, For all my mind is clouded with a doubt To the island valley of Avillion Where falls not hail or rain or any snow Nor ever wind blows loudly, But it lies deep meadowed happy, Fair with orchard lawns and bowery hollows Crowned with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound. So said he, and the barge with oar And sail moved from the brink Like some full-breasted swan, That fluting a wild carol ere her death Ruffles her pure cold plume And takes the flood with swarthy webs. Long stood Sabedivir revolving many memories Till the hull looked one black dot Against the verge of dawn, And on the mirror the wailing died away. But when that moan had passed forevermore The stillness of the dead world's winter dawn Amazed him, and he groaned The king is gone. And therewith all came on him the weird rhyme From the great deep to the great deep he goes. Whereat he slowly turned And slowly cloned the last hard footstep Of that iron crag, Thence marked the black hull moving yet, And cried, he passes to be king Among the dead, and after healing Of his grievous wound he comes again. But if he come no more, oh me, Beyond dark queens in yawn black boat Who shrieked and wailed, the three Whereat we gazed on that high day When clothed with living light They stood before his throne in silence Friends of Arthur, who should help him At his need. Then from the dawn it seemed there came But faint as from beyond the limit of the world Like the last echo born of a great cry Sounds as if some fair city were one voice Around a king returning from his wars. Thereat once more he moved about And cloned even to the highest he could climb And saw, straining his eyes beneath An arch of hand, or thought he saw The speck that bear the king down That long water opening on the deep Somewhere far off, pass on and on And go from less to less And vanish into light. And the new sun rose bringing the new year. CHAPTER XV OF MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF ALL NATIONS CHAPTER XV Once upon a time there lived in the Netherlands In Zantie, a wonderful castle on the river Rhine, A mighty king and queen. Siegmund and Sieglinda were their names And far and wide were they known. And their son, the glorious hero Siegfried, Was still more widely celebrated. Even as a boy he performed so many daring feats That his bravery was talked of in all German lands. The two most remarkable of these feats Were the slaying of a frightful monster Known as the Dragon of the Linden Tree And the capture of the rich treasure of the Nibelungs. The Horde was an ancient one And had this wonderful property That no matter how much was taken from it The quantity was never less. All this happened before Siegfried Reached the age of manhood. When it was time for the youth to be knighted King Siegmund sent invitations far and wide Throughout the country. And a great celebration took place. Siegfried was solemnly girded with a sword And permitted to take his place Among the warriors of the kingdom. Then there was a great tournament A wonderful occasion for Siegfried Who came off victor in every encounter Although many tried warriors Match their skill against his. Altogether the festivities lasted seven whole days. After the guests had departed Siegfried asked permission of his parents To travel into Burgundy To seek as bride for himself, Creme Hilt The maiden of whose great beauty And loveliness he had heard. Gunter, the king of Burgundy, recognizing the young hero Went out to meet him And politely inquired the cause of his visit. Imagine his dismay When Siegfried proposed a single combat In which the victor might claim the land In allegiance of the vanquished. Neither Gunter nor any of his knights Would accept the challenge, But Gunter and his brother hastened forward With proffers of unbounded hospitality. Siegfried lingered a year in Gunter's palace And though he never caught a glimpse Of the fair maid Creme Hilt She often admired his strength and manly beauty From behind the palace windows. One day a herald arrived From King Ludegor of Saxony And King Ludegast of Denmark Announcing an invasion. Gunter was dismayed, But the brave Siegfried came to the rescue Saying that if Gunter would give him Only one thousand brave men He would repel the enemy. This was done and the little army Marched into Saxony and routed The twenty thousand valiant soldiers Of the enemy's force. All the men did brave work, But Siegfried was the bravest of them all. When the hero returned A great celebration was held in his honor And Creme Hilt, Ut, and all the ladies At the court were invited to be present At the tournament. It was there that Siegfried first saw The fair maiden. Her beauty was more wonderful Than he had ever been able to imagine. What was his delight then To learn that he had been appointed Her escort? On the way to the tournament Creme Hilt murmured her thanks For the good work Siegfried had done For her, and Siegfried vowed That he would always serve her brothers And love for her. Soon after the tournament Günther announced his intention Of winning for his wife, Brunhilt The princess of Islant Who had vowed to marry no man But the one who could surpass her In jumping, throwing a stone And casting a spear. Günther proposed that Siegfried Go with him, promising him In return for his services The hand of Creme Hilt. Such an offer was not to be despised And Siegfried immediately consented Advising Günther to take only Hagen and Dunkwart with him. Günther in the three nights Set out in a small vessel Siegfried bade his companions Represent him as Günther's Vassal only. But Brunhilt, seeing his giant Figure in guessing its strength Imagine that he had come to woo her. She was dismayed therefore When she heard that he had held The stirrup for Günther to dismount. When he entered her hall She advanced to meet him But he drew aside Saying that honour was due to his master Günther. Brunhilt ordered preparations For the evening contest And Günther, Hagen, and Dunkwart Trembled when they saw four men Staggering under the weight Of Brunhilt's shield And three more staggering under the Weight of her spear. Siegfried, meantime, had donned His magic cloud cloak And bade Günther rely upon his aid. The combat opened. Brunhilt poised her spear And flung it with such force That both heroes staggered. But before she could cry out her victory Siegfried had caught the spear And flung it back with such violence That the princess fell And was obliged to acknowledge defeat. Undaunted She caught up a huge stone Flung it far into the distance And then, leaping, alighted beside it. No sooner had she done this Then Siegfried seized the stone Flung it still farther And lifting Günther by his broad girdle Bounded through the air with him And alighted beyond the stone. Then Brunhilt knew That she had found her master. Come hither all my kinsmen and Followers, she said, And acknowledge my superior I am no longer your mistress Günther is your lord. The wedding was fitly celebrated And then Günther and his bride Were escorted back to Eastland By a thousand Nibelung warriors Whom Siegfried had gathered for the purpose. A great banquet was given upon their return At which the inpatient Siegfried Ventured to remind Günther of his promise. Brunhilt protested That Günther should not give his only sister to a menial But Günther gave his consent And the marriage took place immediately. The two bridal couples Then sat side by side Creamhilt's face was very happy. Brunhilt was dark and frowning. You see, Brunhilt was not pleased With the husband she had gained And preferred Siegfried. Alone with her husband the first night She bound him with her girdle And suspended him from a corner Of her apartment. Then she let him hang Till morning. Released, Günther sought out Siegfried And told him of the disgraceful affair. The following evening Siegfried again dawned his cloud cloak And entered the apartments Of Günther and Brunhilt. As he entered, he blew out the lights, Caught Brunhilt's hands, And wrestled with her until she pleaded For mercy. Great King, forbear, she said, I will henceforth be thy dutiful wife. I will do my work I will be thy dutiful wife. I will do nothing to anger thee. Thou art my lord and master. Having accomplished his purpose, Siegfried left the room. But first he took Brunhilt's girdle And her ring. These he carried with him, When, after the festivities, He and Creamhilt returned to Zanty On the Rhine. Siegmooned and Sieglynda Abdicated in favor of their son. And for ten years Siegfried Brunhilt reigned happily. Then they were invited to pay a visit To Günther and Brunhilt. They accepted, leaving their little son Günther in the care of the Nibelands. Brunhilt received Creamhilt Graciously, but at heart She was jealous and wanted Creamhilt to acknowledge her as superior. One day they had a hot dispute, Creamhilt declaring that Her husband was without peer In the world, and Brunhilt Retorting that since he was In the castle he must be his inferior. Creamhilt made an angry Avowal that she would publicly Assert her rank. Both queens parted in a rage And proceeded to attire themselves In the most gorgeous costumes They possessed. Accompanied by their ladies and waiting They met at the church door. Brunhilt bade Creamhilt stand aside While she entered. And Creamhilt would not. A storm of words followed. Brunhilt insulted the other queen By declaring that Brunhilt was not A faithful wife. You love Siegfried better than Günther, She declared. Here are your girdle And ring which my husband gave to me. So saying, she displayed The girdle and ring which Siegfried Had unwisely given her When he confided to her the story Of Günther's wooing. Brunhilt summoned Günther to defend her And he sent for Siegfried. The latter publicly swore That his wife had not told the truth And that Brunhilt had never loved him Or he her. This quarrel is disgraceful, he said. I will teach my wife better manners For the future. Günther promised to do likewise. The guests departed. But Brunhilt still smarted From the insult and longed For revenge. Hagen, finding her in tears Undertook to avenge her. He continually reminded Günther Of the insult his wife had received. The king at first paid no attention To the insinuations, But at last he consented to an assault On Siegfried. He asked the great hero to help him In a war which he pretended His old enemy Lutiger was About to bring upon him. Siegfried consented and Creamhilt, because she loved her husband Very deeply, was much troubled. In her distress she confided To Hagen that Siegfried was Unvulnerable except in one spot Between the shoulder blades Where a lime leaf had rested And the dragon's blood had not touched him. Never fear, said Hagen, I myself will help to protect him. You sew a tiny cross On Siegfried's doublet Just over the vulnerable spot That I may be the better able To shield him. Creamhilt promised to obey His instructions, and Hagen Departed, well pleased To carry the news to Gunter. At last the day came For Siegfried to leave his queen. He talked to her and comforted her And kissed her rosy lips. Dear heart, he said, Why all these tears I shall not be gone long. But she was thinking Of what she had told Hagen, And wept and wept and would not Be comforted. When Siegfried joined Gunter's party He was surprised to learn Had been quelled, and that he was Invited to join in a hunt Instead of a fray. So he joined the hunting party. Now Siegfried was as great A hunter as he was a warrior, And while the noonday meal was being Prepared, he scoured the forest, Slew several wild boars, Caught a bear alive, And in a spirit of mischief Turned him loose among the guests. Then, tired and thirsty, He sat down, calling For a drink. Not a bit of wine was at hand. It had all been carried to another Part of the forest. Hagen pointed out a spring nearby, And Siegfried proposed a race, Offering to run in full armor While the others ran without Armor or weapons. In spite of the handicap, Siegfried reached the spring first. Always polite, Siegfried Bait his host, Gunter, Drank first, while he himself Disarmed. Siegfried then stooped over the spring To drink, and as he stooped Hagen, gliding behind him, Drove his spear into his body At the exact spot where Creamhilt Had embroidered the fatal mark. Siegfried struggled to avenge Himself, but found nothing But his shield within reach. This he flung with such force At his murderer that it knocked Him down. Exhausted by the effort, He hurried to the grass, Cursing the treachery of Gunter And Hagen. Curses soon gave way to Thoughts of Creamhilt, however, And, overcoming his anger, He recommended her to the care Of her brother Gunter. Then the great hero died. The hunting-party agreed To carry the body back to Worms, and say that they had Found it in the forest. But Hagen, bolder than the rest, Was in the door where she would See it when she went out for Early mass the next morning. As he expected, Creamhilt Discovered her dead lord and fell Senseless upon him. Recovering, she cried out that He had been murdered. No fomen in a fair fight could Have killed the glorious night. A great funeral took place, And Siegfried's body was laid In state in the cathedral at Worms. Thither many came to view For the widow Creamhilt. The latter, suspecting treachery, Refused to listen to Gunter Until he promised that all of Those present at the hunt should Touch the body. Blood will flow afresh at the Murderous touch, he said. One by one the hunters advanced, And when Hagen touched the Great warrior's form, low The blood flowed again from His wounds. At this the knee-belung warriors Had, but Creamhilt would not Permit them to interrupt the funeral. So the ceremonies were concluded, And Siegfried's body was laid To rest. End of Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Of Myths and Legends of All Nations This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are In the public domain. For more information or To volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Leon Meyer Myths and Legends of All Nations By Logan Marshall Chapter 16 Lowengren and Elsa the Beautiful The young Duchess of Brabant, Elsa the Beautiful, had gone into The woods hunting, and Becoming separated from her Attendance sat down to rest Under a wide branching Linden tree. She was sorely Troubled, for many lords And princes were asking For her hand in marriage. More urgent than all the Others was the invincible hero Count Telremund, her Former guardian, who, since The death of her father, had ruled Over the land with masterly Hand. Now the Duke, her Father, on his death bed Had promised Telremund that He might have Elsa for wife Should she be willing. And Telremund was continually Reminding her of this. But Elsa blushed with shame At the mere thought of such a union For Telremund was a rough warrior As much hated for his cruelty As he was feared for his strength. To make matters worse He was now at the court Of the chosen King Henry of Saxony Threatening her with war And even worse calamities. In the shade of the Linden tree Elsa thought of all this And pitied her own loneliness In that no brother or friend Stood at her side to help her. Then the sweet singing Of birds seemed to comfort her And she dropped into a gentle sleep. As she dreamed It seemed to her that a young Knight stepped out of the depths Of the forest. Holding up a small silver bell He spoke in friendly tones. If you should need my help Just ring this. Elsa tried to take the trinket But she could neither rise Nor reach the outstretched hand. Then she awoke. Thinking over the apparition Elsa noted a falcon Circling over her head. It came nearer and finally settled On her shoulder. Around his neck hung a bell Exactly like that she had seen In the dream. She loosened it, and as she did so The bird rose and flew away. But she still held the little bell In her hand, and in her soul Was fresh hope and peace. When she returned to the castle She found there a message Bidding her appear before The king and cologne on the Rhine. Filled with confidence And the protection of higher powers She did not hesitate to obey. In gorgeous costume With many followers she set out. King Henry Was a man who loved justice And exercised it. But his kingdom was in constant danger From inroads by wild hunts. And for this reason He wished to do whatever would win The favor of the powerful Count Telerimund. When, however, He saw Elsa in all her beauty And innocence, he hesitated In his purpose. The plaintiff brought forward Three men who testified That the Duchess had entered into A secret union with one of her vassals. Only two of these men were shown To be perfidious. The testimony of the other seemed Valid, though this was not enough To condemn her. Then Telerimund seized his sword Crying out that God himself Should be the judge, and that A duel should decide the matter. So a duel was arranged To take place three days later. Elsa cast her eyes Around the circle of nobles But saw no one grasp his sword In defense of her innocence. Fear of the mighty warrior Telerimund Filled them all. Remembering the little bell She drew it forth from her pocket And rang it. The clear tones broke the stillness Grew louder and louder Until they reached even the distant mountains. My champion Will appear in the contest, She said, whereupon the Count Led forth such a mocking laugh That the hearts of all were filled With intense fear. The day as a contest Was at hand. The king sat on his high throne And watched the majestic river That sent its mighty waters through the valley. Princes and brave knights Were gathered together. Before them stood Telerimund Clad in armor And at his side the accused Elsa Adorned with every grace That nature can bestow. Three times The mighty hero challenged someone To come forward as a champion For the accused girl. But no one stirred. Then arose from the Rhine The sound of sweet music Something silvery gleamed In the distance. And as it came nearer It was plain that it was a swan With silver feathers. With a silver chain He was pulling a small ship In which lay sleeping In bright armor. When the bark landed The night awoke, rose and blew Three times on a golden horn. This was the signal that he Took up the challenge. Quickly he strode into the lists. Your name and descent Cried the herald. My name is Lowengren. Answered the stranger. My origin royal. More it is not necessary to tell. Enough, broken the king. Nobody is written on your brow. Trumpets gave the signal For the fight to begin. Teller moon strokes fell thick as hail But suddenly the stranger night rose And with one fearful stroke Split the Count's helmet And cut his head. God has decided, Cried the king. His judgment is right. But you, noble knight, Will help us in the campaign Against the barbarian hordes Be the leader of the detachment Which the fair duchess will sin From Brabant. Gladly Lowengren consented And amid cries of delight From the assembled people He rode over to Elsa Who greeted him as her deliverer. Lowengren escorted Elsa Back to Brabant And on the way love awoke In their hearts and they knew That they were destined for each other. In the castle of Antwerp In a few weeks later the marriage took place. As the bridal couple were leaving the cathedral Lowengren said to Elsa One thing I must ask of you And that is that you never inquire Concerning my origin For in the hour that you put that question Must I surely part from you. It was not long after the ceremony That the cry to arms came From King Henry And Elsa accompanied her husband And his troops to Cologne Where all the counts of the kingdom were assembled. Here there were many inquiries Concerning Lowengren And when none seemed to know of his origin Some jealously claimed That he was the son of a heathen magician And that he gained his victories By the power of black arts. Elsa, who had heard rumors Of these charges, was deeply grieved For she knew the noble heart Of her husband. Even relieved her fears for his safety By the assurance that he was under the protection Of powers higher than human. But she could not banish the evil rumors From her mind. And, forgetting the warning, her husband Had given her on the day of her marriage She dropped to her knees And asked him concerning his birth. Dear wife, he cried in great distress Now will I tell to you And to the king And to all the assembled princes What up to this time I have kept secret But know that the time of our parting Is at hand. Then the hero led his trembling life Before the king and his nobles Who were assembled on the banks of the Rhine. The son of Parsifal am I, he said, The son of Parsifal, the keeper Of the holy grail. Gladly would I have helped you, oh king, To fight against the barbarians. But an unavoidable fate calls me away. You will, however, be victorious. And under your descendants Will Germany become a powerful nation. When he finished speaking There was a deep silence. And then, as upon his arrival There rose the sound of music, Not joyful this time, but solemn, Like a chant at the grave of the dead. It came nearer, and again The swan and the boat appeared. Farewell, dear one, lo and grin cried Folding his wife and his arms. Too dearly did I hold you In your pleasant land of earth. Now a higher duty calls me. Weeping Elsa clung to him, But the swan song sounded louder, Like a warning. He tore himself free And stepped into the boat. Was it the ship of death and destruction, Or only the ship that carried The blessed to the sacred place of the Grail? No one knew. Elsa, lonely and sad, Did not live long after the separation. Her only hope was that she would be reunited To her dear husband, And she parted willingly with her own life, As other children of earth have done When they have lost all that they held most precious. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Lucy LaFaro, New South Wales, Australia. Myths and legends of all nations By Logan Marshall. Frithy off the bold. Frithy off was a Norwegian hero. Grandson of Viking, Who was the largest and strongest man of his time. Viking had sailed the sea in a dragonship, Meeting with many adventures, And Thorsten, Frithy off's father, Had likewise sailed abroad, Capturing many priceless treasures, And making a great name for himself. Frithy off was entrusted to the care Of Hilding, his foster father. And in his care also were Halfton and Helge, King Bellie's sons. And some years later their little sister Ingeborg. Frithy off and Ingeborg became fern friends. And as the lad increased in bravery and strength, The girl increased in beauty and loveliness of soul. Hilding noticing how each day They became fond of each other, Called Frithy off. To him and bade him remember that He was only a humble subject And could never hope to wed Ingeborg, The king's only daughter. Descended from the great god Odin. The warning, however, came too late, For Frithy off already loved the fair maiden And vowed that he would have her For his bride at any cost. Soon after this the king died, Leaving his kingdom to his two sons. And giving instruction that his funeral mound Should be erected in sight Of that of his dear friend Thorsten, So that their spirits might not be separated, Even in death. Then Ingeborg went to live with her brothers, The kings of Sown, While Frithy off retired to his own home at Framnes, Closed in by the mountains and the sea. Frithy off was now one of the wealthiest And most envied of landowners. His treasures were richer by far Than those of any king. In the spring he held a great celebration, Which the kings of Sown and their sister Ingeborg, Among many other guests, attended. Frithy off and Ingeborg were much together. And Frithy off was very happy to learn That Ingeborg returned his affection. Great was his grief when Frithy off Great was his grief when the time came For her to sail away. Not long had she been gone, however, When he vowed to bjorn his chief companion That he would follow after her and ask for her hand. His ship was prepared, And soon he touched the shore near the temple Of the god Baldur. His request was not granted, And Helgi dismissed him contemptuously. In a rage at the insult, Frithy off lifted his sword, But remembering that he stood on consecrated ground Near Belay's tomb, He spared the king, Only cutting his heavy shield in two To show the strength of his blade. Soon after his departure, Another suitor, the aged king Ring of Norway, Sought the hand of Ingeborg in marriage, And being refused, collected in army, And prepared to make war on Helgi and Helftan. Then the two brothers were glad To send a messenger after Frithy off, Asking his aid. The hero, still angry, refused, But he hastened it once to Ingeborg. He found her in tears at the shrine of Baldur, And although it was considered a sin For a man and woman to exchange words In the sacred temple, He spoke to her again, Making known his love. The kings, her brothers, were away at war, But Frithy off stayed near Ingeborg, And when they returned, Promised to free them from the oppression Of Sigurd Ring, If in return they would promise him The hand of their sister. But the kings had heard of how Frithy off had spoken to Ingeborg In the temple, And although they feared Sigurd, They would not grant the request. Instead he was condemned In punishment to sail away To the Orkney Islands To claim tribute from the king Angantyr. Frithy off departed In his ship Elida, And Ingeborg stayed behind, Weeping bitterly. And as soon as the vessel was out of sight, The brothers sent for two witches, Hyde and Ham, Bidding them stir up such a tempest On the sea, That even the God-given ship Elida Could not withstand its fury. But no tempest could frighten The brave Frithy off. Singing a cheery song, He stood at the helm, Carrying nothing for the waves That raged about the ship. He comforted his crew, And then climbed the mast To keep a sharp lookout for danger. From there he spied a huge wail, Upon which the two witches Were seated, Delighted at the tempest Sturred up. Speaking to his good ship, Which could both hear and obey, He bade it run down the wail And the witches. This Elida did. Wail and witches sank. The sea grew red with their blood. The waves were calmed. Again the sun Smiled over the hardy sailors. But many of the crew Were worn out by the battle With the elements, Which were sure by Frithy off and Bjorn, When they reached the Orkney Islands. Now the watchmen At Angantire's castle Had reported the ship and the gale, And Angantire had declared That only Frithy off and Elida Could weather such a storm. One of his vassals At lay caught up His weapons and hurried forth To challenge the great hero. Frithy off had no weapons. But with a turn Of his wrist he threw his opponent. Go and get your weapons. At lay said When he saw that Frithy off Would have killed him. Knowing that at lay was a true soldier And would not run away Frithy off left him in search of his sword. But when he returned And found his opponent calmly Awaiting death He was generous and bade him Rise and live. Angantire vowed that he Would owe no tribute to Helge And would pay him none. But to Frithy off he gave A vast treasure. Telling him that he might dispose Of it as he would. So Frithy off sailed back To the kings of Sone Confident that he could win Ingeborg. What was his dismay therefore To learn that Helge and Half Dan Had already given their sister in marriage To Sigurd Ring. At the age he bade his men Destroy all the vessels in the harbour While he strode toward the temple Of Balda Where Helge and his wife were. He flung Angartire's purse Of gold in Helge's face And seeing the ring he had Given to Ingeborg On the hand of Helge's wife Snatched it roughly from her. In trying to get it back She dropped the image of the god Which she had just been Anointing into the fire. It was quickly consumed While the rising flames Set fire to the temple. Horace Stricken Frithy off tried to stop the blaze And when he could not Hurried away to his ship. So Frithy off became an exile And a wanderer on the face Of the earth. For many years he lived the life Of a pirate or Viking Exacting tribute from other ships Or sacking them if they would not pay tribute. For this occupation In the days of Frithy off Was considered wholly respectable. It was followed again And again by the brave men Of the north. But Frithy off was often homesick And longed to enter a harbour And lead again a life Of peace. At last he decided to visit The court of Ziggard ring And find out where the Ingeborg Landing he wrapped himself In an old cloak and approached The court. He found a seat on a bench near the door As beggars usually did. But when one insulting Courtier mocked him he lifted The offender within his mighty Hand and swung him high Over his head. At this Ziggard ring Invited the old man to remove His mantle and take a seat near Him. With surprise Ziggard and his courtiers saw Step from the tattered mantle A handsome warrior richly clad But only Ingeborg Knew who he was. Who are you Who comes to us thus Asked Ziggard ring? I am Theof. A thief was the answer And I have grown to manhood In the land of sorrow. Ziggard invited him To remain and he soon became The almost constant companion Of the king and queen. One spring day Ziggard and Frithjof had ridden Away on a hunting expedition And the old king Being tired from the chase Lay down on the ground to rest Feigning sleep. The birds and beast of the forest Drew near and whispered To Frithjof that he should slay The king and have Ingeborg For his own wife. But Frithjof was too Fine and loyal to listen To such suggestions. Awaking Ziggard ring Called Frithjof to him. You are Frithjof the bold He said. And from the first I knew you. Be patient now a little longer And you shall have Ingeborg For my end is near. Soon after this Ziggard died Commending his wife To the young hero's loving care And at his own request The funeral feast was closed By the public betrothal Of Ingeborg and Frithjof. The people admiring his bravery Wanted to make Frithjof king But he would not listen To their pleadings. Instead he lifted The little son of Ziggard Upon his shield. Behold your king he cried And until he is grown to manhood I will stand beside him. So Frithjof married His beloved Ingeborg And later So the story runs He returned to his own country And built again The temple of Boulder More beautiful by far Than any before. End of Chapter 17 Frithjof the Bold Chapter 18 Myths and legends of all nations This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings Are in the public domain For more information Or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Lucy LaFaro New South Wales, Australia Myths and legends of all nations By Logan Marshall Wayland the Smith King Nidong Had one daughter and three sons The oldest son, Otvin Was away from court Guarding the outposts of the country The other two sons were still children One day The two boys came with their bows To the great Smith Wayland Asking him to make arrows for them Not today The Smith answered I have not time And besides Even though you are the sons of the king I may not work for you Without the wish and consent Of your father If he is willing You may come again But you must promise to do exactly as I tell you What is that? One of the boys ventured You must, said Wayland Come on a day when snow Has freshly fallen And you must walk facing Backward all the way The children cared little Whether they walked backward or forward As long as they got their arrows And so they promised To their delight Next morning they found that snow had fallen Quickly they set out For the Smithy Walking backward all the way Oh, Wayland Make us the arrows, they cried The king, our father Has said that we might have them But Wayland had no intention Of making the arrows For the king had treated him unjustly And cruelly And he saw the opportunity for revenge With his mighty hammer He struck the two children on the head And killed them Then he threw their bodies into a cave Adjoining the Smithy When the children did not return The castle messengers were sent out To find them They inquired at the Smithy The boys have gone, said Wayland I made arrows for them And no doubt they have gone into the woods To shoot birds Returning to the castle The messengers saw the footprints in the snow And since they pointed toward home Decided that the children Must have gone back But they were not there Then Nidding sent his servants Far and wide throughout the country And when the boys were nowhere to be found He concluded that they Must have been devoured by wild animals When all the searches were over Wayland brought forth The bodies of the two children Stripped the bones of flesh Whitened them And made them into goblets and vessels For the king's table Mounting them with silver and gold The king was delighted with them And had them placed upon his board Whenever there were Guests of honour present A long time later Bat healed the king's daughter While playing with her companions In the garden one day Broke a costly ring that Nidding Had given her She was greatly vexed And feared to tell her father Why not take it to Wayland to mend Suggested one of her trusted maidens So Bat healed Gave the trinket to the girl And bade her take it to Wayland She brought it back with her Without the command of the king He will not mend it, she said Unless the king's daughter herself Will come to him Bat healed set out immediately For the smithy There, Wayland substituted For her ring his own Which had the curious magic power Of making its wearer fall in love With the smith The smith slipped the jewel on her finger Gazed into her eyes and said This ring you shall keep As well as your own If you will be my bride The maiden could not refuse And so the two were married Agreeing to keep their union a secret About this time Eagle, the brother of Wayland Came to the court of Nidding He was a celebrated man And the most skilful master Of the bow to be found anywhere in the world The king welcomed him And he remained a long time At the court One day Nidding proposed that Since he was such a skilful bowman He should try shooting an apple From the head of his own son Eagle agreed You may have only one trial The king said So an apple was placed On the head of Eagle's three-year-old son And Eagle, taking his bow Aimed and with the first arrow Struck the apple in the centre So that it fell from the child's head Why did you have three arrows The king asked Sire, replied Eagle I will not lie to you If I had pierced my son With the first arrow The other two would have pierced you The king, strange to say, did not take offence At this speech But on the contrary Showed Eagle still greater favour Than he had in the past The archer frequently visited His brother, Wayland, but Came but seldom to her husband's house One day the two came together At Wayland's special request When they were leaving Wayland embraced Bad Hild And said to her You will be the mother of a boy Your child and mine It may be that I shall go away From here and never see his face But you must tell him That I have made for him worthy weapons And stowed them in safety And the water enters And the wind goes out The forge The next time Wayland saw Eagle He bade him bring to him all kinds of feathers Large and small I wished to make for myself A duble of feathers He explained Then Eagle shot many birds of prey And brought their feathers to Wayland From then He made a flying shirt Which he looked more like an Eagle Than a man Eagle admired the workmanship And Wayland asked him to try it How shall I rise? How fly? And how alight? Asked Eagle You must rise against the wind And fly first low and then high But you must alight with the wind Eagle did as he was told And he had a good deal of trouble Finally he knocked his head With such force on the ground That he lost consciousness When he came to himself Wayland spoke Tell me brother Eagle Do you like the shirt? If it were as easy to alight As it is to fly Was the answer I should fly away And you would never see me again I will alter what is wrong Said the Smith Making a slight change in the shirt Then with Eagle's help He put on the feathers Flapped his wings And rose into the air He lighted on a turret of the castle And called down to Eagle I did not tell you the truth When I said that you should alight with the wind For I knew that if you found out How easy it was to fly You would never give me the shirt back again You can say for yourself The words rise against the wind And alight in the same way I am going home to my own country But first I must have a few words with Nidong And remember if he bids you shoot me Shoot under the left wing For there I have fastened a bladder Filled with blood With these words Wayland flew to the highest tower Of the king's castle And called to the king As he passed with his courtiers Are you a bird, Wayland? Asked the king Sometimes I am a bird And sometimes a man was the reply But now I am going away from here And never again will you have me in your power Listen while I speak You promised once to give me your daughter And the half of your kingdom But you made of me instead an outcast Because I defended myself And killed the wretches Who would have taken my life You surprised me while I slept And stole my arms and my treasures And not satisfied with that You laid a net for my feet And made of me a cripple But I have had my revenge Do you know where your sons are? My sons, cried Nidong Oh, tell me what you know of them I will tell you But first you must swear to me By the deck of the ship And the edge of the shield By the back of the horse And the blade of the sword That you will do no harm To my wife and child Nidong swore and Wayland began his speech Go to the smithy And there in the cave You will find the remains of your sons I killed them And of their bones Made vessels for your table Your daughter Badhild So I have repaid evil with evil And our connection is ended With these words he flew away While Nidong with great anger Cried Eagle, shoot at Wayland I cannot harm my own brother Replied Eagle Shoot! Cried the king Or I will kill you Then Eagle laid an arrow In his bow And shot Wayland As he had been instructed Under his left arm Until the blood flowed And everyone thought that the great smith Had received his death wound But Wayland unharmed Flew away to Zealand And made his home there In his father's land Nidong, meantime Was sad and unhappy And it was not long before he died And Otvin, his son Succeeded to the throne Otvin was soon loved And honoured throughout the kingdom Because of his great justice and kindness His sister lived with him at court And there her son, Widge, was born One day Wayland sent messages to Otvin Asking for peace and pardon And when these were granted He travelled again to Jutland And was received with great honour The mighty smith was very glad To see his wife again And very proud of his three-year-old son But he would not yield to Otvin's request But he remained in Jutland Instead he returned to Zealand With Badhield and Widge And there they lived happily for many years Wayland was known throughout all the world For his knowledge and skill And his son, Widge, was a powerful hero Whose praises were much celebrated in Song So ends the story of Wayland The great smith of the northern countries End of chapter 18 Wayland the smith