 Section 4 of Amades of Gaul by Vasco de Libera, translated by Robert Salty. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Book 1, Chapter 7, 8, and 9 of Amades of Gaul. Book 1, Chapter 7 of the Battle which the Child of the Sea had with Galpano and his people. As the Child of the Sea approached the castle, he met a damsel accompanied by a squire and page. She was a fair damsel, and her hair was beautiful, which she rent as she went along and made great lamentation. When the night heard how she had suffered from the custom of that castle, he took her bridle and said, Come with me, and I shall avenge you. So they rode on and entered the base-court, where there was a knight on horseback who said to him, Come on and receive your dishonor. Tell me, quote the Child, a thou the villain who forced this lady? No, said he, but if I were, what wouldest thou then? Reventure, said the Child of the Sea. The night of the castle then spurred his horse and ran at him full speed, but the Child, meeting him in full career, gave him such greeting that shield nor breastplate availed, for the lance went through his shoulder and he fell down dead. The Child drew out the lance and met the second knight, sold directly, that he rent his helmet from his head and bore him to the ground. He cried out for help, whereon three Helbeters issued out, to whom he said, Kill this traitor! They all ran violently on the Child and slew his horse, but he lightly rose, and first he drove his lance through the night, between the ear and neck, then bestowed himself against the other three, who coming behind had wounded him in the shoulder, so that he lost much blood. Full well he recompensed the villain what that did it, for he clove him down to the chest. The others fled, crying aloud for help. The Child leapt on the horse of one of the knights and followed. And he saw a knight unarmed at a door, who cried out to him, what hath moved thee to come here and kill my people? Sir, quote the damsel, this is the villain, villain, said the Child, dearly at the child thou pay for thy disloyal dealing, go arm thee, else I will slay thee naked as thou art, for to such wretches there should be no mercy shown. But the damsel cried out, kill him, that he live not to abuse any more, for that will be to your account. Ah, wretch, quote he, in an evil hour came he hither in thy company, and he went in, telling the Child to wait for him, for it was no use to fly. Galpano soon came armed into the court, mounted on a lusty white coarser, and cried to the Child, well, mayest thou repent the time that ever thou sawest this damsel, for it will cost thee thy head. There at an anger, he replied, each must guide his own, and let he who cannot lose it. Without longer stay they couched their spears, which, in their encounter, pierced through shield and armor to the flesh, and so forcibly did shields, helmets, and bodies clash together that they both fell. Soon they arose, and laid hand to sword, and threw their shields before them, and began a fierce combat. The splinters of their shields were strewn about, and pieces of their armors, and their helmets were battered and broken, in the ground whereon they fought, covered with their blood. Galpano, who felt a sore wound in his head, drew back to wipe away the blood from his eyes. How now, Galpano, quote the Child, does thou not remember that we fight for our heads? And if thou defendest not thy own, thou will lose it. Be patient awhile, answered Galpano, and let us breathe a little. We have time enough to make an end. Not so, said the Child, I do not combat thee for courtesy, and so fiercely then he smote him that he bent his knees to the ground, yet quickly he arose and defended himself. But the Child pressed him that he could scarce lift his sword, and now sought only to protect himself with the shield. And the shield was hewn away, piecemeal. Then having no remedy he fled, I would have got into a tower where his men were, but the Child overtook him by the steps, and caught him by the helmet, and smote his head from his shoulders. Then turning to the damsel, said, Now may you choose another lover, for this to whom you swore have discharged thee from your vow. He would have ascended the tower, but the steps were drawn up, then mounting the horse of Galpano, which was a goodly one, he said, Let us be gone. I will take the head of this villain, said she, and present it to the night to whom I am sent on your behalf. The Child answered, Not the head, that will be troublesome. Take the helmet instead. And he asked to whom she was going. To Agriès, said she, Son of the King of Scotland. She then, by her importunity, learned to had suckered her, and went her way. The Child rode on, but he bled fast along the way, and the white horse was stained with his blood. About the hour of vespers he saw a castle, from whence an unarmed knight came out to meet him, and asked him where he took those wounds. And a castle not far behind. In that horse I took him in the place of my own which they slew there. And where is the knight who's he was? He has lost his head, said the Child. Then would the knight have kissed his feet, saying, Ah, sir, you are right welcome. For by you have I recovered my honour. For this was one whom Galpano had conquered. Sir Knight, then said the Child, Where can I find some remedy for my wounds? In my house, he replied, My niece shall cure you better than any other in this land. So he caused him to be unarmed, and laid in a sumptuous bed, where his wounds were looked to by the lady, who told him that if he could rest there for a few days he would be made whole. End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 How the three knights came to the court of King Langonees, and the other knight in the litter, and his traitorous wife, by command of Amadeus. On the third day after the Child of the Sea had left the court of King Langonees, the three brethren arrived there, with their false sister, and her wounded husband in a litter, and they delivered the woman into the King's hand, on the part of a new knight who had lately left his court. The King blessed himself at hearing the woman's wickedness, and turning to the wounded man said, Me think so wicked a woman as your wife deserves not to live. Sire, said he, Do therein what you think fit, but I never will consent to kill the thing I most love. So the brethren then took leave of the King, and carried with them the wounded knight, leaving their sister to receive judgment. The King said to her, My husband is more loyal to thee than thou saith been to him, but ye shall dearly abide your falsehood, and he made her be burnt. Langonees marveled, much who the knight could be. For no one but Ordiana and the damsels, who had been with her, knew that the Child of the Sea was knighted, and the King thought he was going to visit Gondolese. The squire was standing by who had lodged him, and afterward conducted him to the castle where he delivered King Pérdion. It may be Quothee, a young knight with whom I and a damsel of Denmark that is here, kept company for a while. Know you his name, said Langonees? No, Sire, but he is young and exceeding fair. And I saw him do such rare deeds of chivalry, and so little time, that in my opinion, if he live, he will prove one of the best knights in the world. Then, discourse'd, he of all that he had seen him achieve, and rest you of King Pérdion, and added, May have the damsel who came hither with me can tell ye more tidings of him, for I met them together. Only what she sent for, whereupon she declared so much as she knew, chiefly, how Udeganda brought him the lance, and said it was for the best knight in the world. But in sooth, Quothee, I know not his name, for never could I learn it of him. Ah, God, said the King, who may it be? Now she who loved him doubted not who it was, but she was in great trouble, for the King her father had sent for her, and loath was she to go where she could not so often receive news from him, whom she loved more than herself. After six days, as the King was conferring to this son Agraeus, who now was about departing to succor the King's uncle, there came in a damsel and knelt to the Prince, and said, Sir, hear me a while before the King your father. Then took she in her hand a helmet, with so many sword-dents and breeches, that there was not a sound place in it. Take sigh of this helmet, instead of the head of Galpano. I present it to you, on the part of a young knight, whom of all living it best becomes to follow arms, and this he sends you, because Galpano dishonored a damsel who was going on your service. What, quote the King, is Galpano overcome by the hand of one man? This certainly must be the same young knight, and he asked the damsel if she knew his name. That learned I, she answered, with great importunity. He is called the Child of the Sea. Ah, Quoth Agraeus, where may I find him? My Lord, he commanded himself to you, giving you to understand that you shall find him at the wars. Great was the joy for these good tidings of the Child of the Sea, but above all was his Lady Ordeana rejoiced, though she concealed it. The King inquired from the damsels how he was knighted, and when they told him by their means, he replied, O courtesy hath he found in you than in me, though I only delayed thinking he was yet too young. The damsel now delivered her bidding to Agraeus, and he departed with a good company for Gaul. CHAPTER IX How King Lozwade sent to the house of King Languines for his daughter Ordeana, and he sent her in with his daughter Mabilia, and how the Child of the Sea and Agraeus went to succour King Perdean of Gaul. About ten days after the departure of the Prince, there came three ships from Great Britain. Wherein his chief was the good knight, Galdair de Rascule, accompanied by one hundred knights, and with a suitable train of dames and damsels for Ordeana. Lozwade sent them to give to King Languines his hearty thanks for the gentle and treatance of the Princess, his daughter, and to request that Mabilia would now come with her, who should be in like manner received and entertained. Right joyfully did Languines consent, and adorned them well, and made due preparations for their voyage. Ordeana, knowing that she must needs go, made ready. And when she was putting her jewels in order, she found among them the wax which she had taken from the Child of the Sea. That recollection brought tears into her eyes, and she clasped her hands and thought, so that the wax break, and she saw the writing within and read, This is Amadeus, son of King. But when she had read this, never did such joy enter the heart of man as she felt. Without delay she called the damsel of Denmark, and said to her, My friend, I will tell you something which no other than you, in my own heart, must know. Therefore, do you keep it as the secret of such a Princess as I am, and of the best night in the world? That will I do, quote the damsel, and doubt not to confide in me. Then so it is, dear friend, Cerodeana, you must go and seek that young night whom you know he is called the Child of the Sea, and ye shall find him at the war in Gaul. If ye be not there, await his coming, and give him this writing, wherein he shall find his name written at the time when he was cast into the sea. He is the son of a king, and if he was so good when he knew not who he was, now will he be yet better, and tell him that I am sent forth to my father's court, and I bid him, when he leaves the war, come there also, that he may dwell there till I am a point him what to do. Would this errand to the damsel of Denmark set out for Gaul? The Princesses now embarked, Languines and the Queen commending them to God. The weather was prosperous, and in a short time they reached Great Britain. The Child of the Sea remained fifteen days in the castle, where the damsel looked to his wounds, and then, though they were hardly healed, departed. It was on a Sunday morning that he and Gandeline took leave of his host, and his gentle leech, and entered a great forest. This was in the month of April, and he heard the birds sing in the wood, and saw the flowers on all sides, and then he thought of his love, and said aloud, I child without lands and without lineage, how hast thou dared to place thy heart upon her who excels all other in goodness and beauty and parentage? For each of these three things the best night should not dare to love her, for more avails her beauty than the worth of the best night in the world, and her goodness than the wealth of the wealthiest, and I, who know not what I am, must live with the pain of my own rashness, and die without declaring it. He had made this moan, whose head hanging down, and now looking up he aspired a night on horseback who had overheard him. The night perceived that he stopped, came before him, and said, It seems you love your mistress, sir, better than yourself. When in commending her you dispraise yourself. Tell me who she is, that I may love her, as you, by your own confession, are not worthy. Sir Knight, applied the child, you have some reason for what you say, but you shall know nothing more, and if you were to love her you would have no success. The Knight answered, Toil and danger for the love of one's lady ought to be deemed an honour, for at the end comes the reward, and he that loveth and so high a place as you do, should not be aggrieved at all that may happen. The child of the sea thought that he spake well, and would have proceeded, but the other cried, Stay night, for either by will or by force you must tell me what I demanded. Go to, then, quote the child. So again they laced their helmets, and took their shields and lances, and as they were separating for the joust, a damsel came up and cried, Stay nights, and answer me one thing first, for I am in haste, and cannot tarry the end of your combat. At these words they stayed. Have you seen a knight called the child of the sea? And what would you with him? said the child. I bring him tidings from his friend Agraeus, son of the King of Scotland. Wait a little, replied he, and I will give you knows of him. And with that he returned towards the knight who was calling to him to defend himself. They ran their course, the lance of the knight flew up in shivers, and both he and his horse were born to the ground. The horse rose and was starting away, but the child caught him and said, Sir knight, take your horse, and henceforth seek not to know anything against a man's will. Then turning to the damsel, he asked her if she knew him for whom she inquired. No, said she, but Agraeus told me he would make himself known so soon as I should say that I came from him. Right, wrote the child, for I am he. At these words he unlaced his helmet, and when she saw his face, the damsel cried, and truth do I believe it, for I have heard him speak wonders of your beauty. Where did you leave Agraeus? Hard by the shore, not far hence, for he is about to embark with his troops for Gaul, and he wished to learn tidings of you that you might cross with him. God reward him, said the child, lead on and show the way. They soon came to the shore whereon the tents were pitched, and being now near them they heard a voice behind. Stay, knight, for you shall tell me what I asked. He turned and saw the knight whom he had dismounted, and another now with him, and taking his arms met them both with their spears in rest and careening at him full speed. And they from the tents saw him how firm he rode in the saddle, so that they marveled, for there was no knight of this time who rode better or josted with more grace, so that by this he was often discovered when he wished not to be known. Their both spears struck his shield which failed him, but his breastplate not. He ran at the knight, whom he had before overthrown, and threw him again so roughly that in the fall he break his arm. The child lost his lance. He turned with his sword against the other, and gave it him on the head that he pierced the helmet, and he drew back the sword so forcibly that the laces break, and the helmet came with the sword. The child then passed the sword to his left hand, and caught his enemy's shield and plucked it from his neck, and dashed it on his head so that he fell stunned. Then the child gave his arms to Gandeline and proceeded to the tents. Our gray hairs went to him, wondering who we might be that so soon discomforted two knights. He knew him, and they embraced, and there was great joy when it was known that the child of the sea was arrived. The prince then sent for the two knights to his tent. Believe me, friends, said he, you attempted great folly to meddle with this knight. True, said he, with the broken arm, yet I saw him in such plight that I little thought to find any resistance from him. And then he told what had passed in the forest, only the lamentation of the child he durst not repeat. The next day they decamped, and rode to Palangwese, a sea town opposite to Gaul. Then they entered the ships of Agriès, and with fair wind soon reached a town in Gaul called Gullfin, and from tents the castle ballad in. Wherein was King Pérdion, who had lost many of his people, and was right glad of their coming. Agriès went to visit Queen Alasena, taking with him the child of the sea and two other knights of good account. When Pérdion saw the child, he took him by the hand and led him to the queen. This is the good night of whom I told you, here to four, and defended me from the greatest danger that ever I was in. And this I tell you, that you may love him better than any other night. The queen advanced herself to embrace him, and he fell on his knees and said, Lady, I am the servant of your sister, and for her sake come to serve you, with like obedience as to her person. The queen thanked him lovingly, and seeing how fair he was, she thought of her own sons who were lost, and the tears came, so she wept for him who was before her, and she knew him not. Do not weep, lady, both he. You shall be restored to your cheerfulness with the help of God, and the king, and this knight your nephew, and me, who willingly will serve you. When Agriès departed, he would have taken the child with him. But Alasena said he was her sister's knight, and should be lodged with them. So he became his mother's guest. King Abias and Dagonel soon heard that Sucker was arrived. Bouncing the king, if King Pérdion has a heart to fight, he will give us battle. Alasena replied, he feared with you too much, for Abias was then the best knight known. Gelléin, Duke of Normandy, who was present, then said, I will tell you how we will make him. Dagonel and I will set out to-night, and at break of day we will appear before his town with a reasonable force. King Abias, with the rest of the army, shall lie in ambush in the forest. He will take heart and sally out upon us. We will feign of fear, and take flight towards the forest, and there shall they all be destroyed. You say well, replied Abias, let it be done. Presently they, and all their people, were armed and entered the forest, and there the king remained, while Dagonel and Gelléin proceeded. When the morning came, Pérdion and the queen went into the child's chamber, whom they found rising, and washing his hands, and they saw that his eyes were red and his cheeks marked with tears, so that it was plain he had slept little that night, and truly he had been thinking of his lady, and how hopeless his love was, and that death was all he could expect. King Ellesena took Gandalin aside, and asked him the cause of his master's sadness, if it was for any offence that he had received there. He replied, he hath received great honour here. And this, madam, is his custom. He is wont to weep at night, as you see. While they were discoursing, the townsmen saw their enemies near, and shouted to arms, to arms. Right glad was the child of the sea of this alarm. They amped themselves, and rode to the gate, where they found Agriés and Rath. Because the wardens would not let him go forth, for he was one of the most spirited knights in the world, and if his strength had been like his courage, there would have been none to surpass him in prowess. At the king's command the gates were opened, and all the knights went forth, but seeing their enemies to be so great a number, there were some who said it would be folly to attack them. But Agriés spurred his horse, exclaiming ill luck to him who tarries longer, and the child of the sea had already advanced before him, so they went to the charge. Galen and Galen made ready to receive them as those whom they hardly hated. The child of the sea encountered Galen, who was foremost in overthrow both man and horse, and the duke break his leg in the fall. The child had broken his lance. He laid hold of his sword, and rode among them, striking on all sides so fiercely that nothing could withstand his blows, till he was beset that his horse could not move forth the throng. Agriés, with some of his followers, forced their way to him, and made a great destruction among their enemies, and King Péryon with his people came up, whom Dagonel as well received. Then were the armies mingled together. There might you have seen the child of the sea doing wonders, felling all that opposed him, hewing and chining his enemies, and showing such chivalry that none durst abide him. Agriés, at seeing him, took the more courage, and cried aloud to encourage his bend, look at the best night that ever was born. And Dagonel saw the child of the sea, what havoc he made. He made up to him, and strove to kill his horse, that he might fall among the throng. But that he could not affect, for the child gave him such a stroke on the helmet that the laces burst and it fell off, and King Péryon, who had come to the child's sucker, with another blow, cleft him to the teeth. Then were they of Ireland, and the Normans conquered, and they fled to the forest, crying aloud, for King Agriés, that he should not tarry longer, and suffer them to be destroyed. And Péryon and his company, pursued till they saw Agriés in his main army advanced, crying, said on them, leave not a man alive, enter the town with them. When the knights of Gaul found themselves thus surprised, they were affrighted. For they were weary, and their lances broken, and King Agriés was the best night in the world, and the one whom they most feared. But the child of the sea cried, Now, sirs, you must maintain your honour. It will be seen what each is worth. The Irish came on like fresh men, and who had a great heart to do mischief. King Agriés left not a night in his saddle so long as his spear lasted. Then drew he his sword, and laid about him so valiantly, that King Péryon's men could not withstand him, and they retreated towards the town. The child, seeing that, restored himself more angrily, and fought in the front, so that he gave the Gauls leisure to retire in some order, and prevented their utter root. Agriés and Péryon always kept by him. And they three were the safety of the host. And enough to do had those Irish men, whom Agriés had sent forward to enter the town, that the war might be finished. And now the Gauls had entered the gates, and King Agriés came up, hoping that his men had entered with them, and greatly was he grieved to see that it was otherwise. In the moor, for he now heard, how that Galen and Dagonel were slain. One of his people came up to him and said, Sire, do you see that night on the white horse, who does nothing but what is marvellous? See it is who slain your captains. It was the child of the sea, who rode the white horse of Galpano. With that King Agriés rode up to him and said, Night, thou has slain the man in the world whom I most love, and dearly shall thou abide it, if thou will come out and continue the battle. The child replied, This is not a time to fight with you, for your men are many in number and fresh, and we are but few and so travailed that it is a wonder how we have resisted you. But if ye will show the great hardiness for which you are renowned and revenge him of whom you speak like a knight, choose you of your people as many as you think fit, and I will do the same, and then being equal you may gain the moor honour, which is not to be won by coming with so great a number to take what is not your own. King Agriés replied, Of how many shall the battle be? Since you leave it in my choice, said the child, I will propose what may please you better. You are my enemy for what I have done today, and I yours for the wrong you have done this land. It is not reasonable that any other than ourselves should suffer. Let the battle be between you and me, and presently if you will only let neither side stir till the end. So let it be, said Abyes, and he called ten of his best nights, who with ten of the child's party were appointed to keep the field. King Padion and Agriés would have had him delay the combat till the next day, seeing that he was sore wounded. But he would not be moved, desiring the battle above all things that he might prove himself against the world, who had the renown of the best night in the world, and thinking that if he conquered the war would be finished, and he might return to his Lady Odiana, on whom his heart and all his desires were fixed. CHAPTER X OF THE BATTLE WHICH THE CHILD OF THE SEA HAD WITH KING ABYES AND HOW HE CONQUERED HIM, WHERE BY THE WAR BETWEEN KING ABYES AND KING PADION WAS CONCLUDED. But they on both sides, seeing that the greater part of the day was spent, determined that the combat should be delayed till the morning, albeit against the will of both champions. And this also they did that their arms might be repaired and some remedy applied to their wounds, and because both armies being worried and having been hardly handled, stood in need of rest. The child of the sea therefore entered the town with Agriés and King Padeon, and as he rode along with his head unarmed, the people cried out, Ah, good night, God give thee grace to recede as thou hast begun, thou art a fair night, and one upon whom knighthood was well bestowed. As they drew nigh the palace, a damsel met with them and said to the child of the sea that the queen desired he would not be disarmed anywhere but in her apartments. This was at the king's desire, who now said, Friend, you must need's grant this request. Agriés must bear you company. So they went thither, where they found the queen and her many ladies and damsels ready to disarm them. But the queen would suffer none of them to touch the child of the sea, whom she herself disarmed, and threw a mantel over him. The king then came and saw how he was wounded and asked him why he had not delayed the day of the battle. It had been needless, quote the child, I have no wound to detain me. So they presently dressed his wounds and the supper was brought. On the morrow the queen and her ladies went to visit them, and they found them conversing with the king. Then Mass was said, which being ended the child armed himself, not in the arms which he had worn yesterday, for they had been so dealt with, that they were useless, but in a rich and goodly armor. Then he took leave of the queen and mounted a fresh horse. King Paetion carried his helm in an old knight called Aghanon, his lance, and Prince Agriès his shield, whereupon were portrayed two azure lions in a field of gold, rampant the one against the other. They went out from the town and found King Abiès mounted on a large black coarser, armed at all points save his head. The townsmen and those of the host placed themselves where they might best see the combat. The lists were marked out and scaffolding erected round them. Then they laced on their helmets. King Abiès hung round his neck a shield which bore a giant in a field of azure, and a knight beheading him, for so he had once slain a giant who would lane waste his country. When they both had taken their arms, all who were in the lists went out, each commending their own champion to God, and the two knights ran at each other, as they who were of great strength and good heart. At the first encounter all their arms failed, the lances pierced through the shield and the breastplate, and into the flesh, and the staves flew in pieces, and they met body to body and horse to horse so furiously that they both fell, and all the beholders thought them dead. But soon they rose and plucked the spearheads from the wound, and engaged so fiercely with their swords that it was fearful to see them. Yet the combat seemed unequal, not that the child of the sea was not well made in a goodly stature. But King Abiès was so large that there was no knight whom he did not exceed in stature by a palm, and his limbs were like those of a giant. He was, however, beloved by his people, and had in him all good qualities except that he was too proud. The battle between them was cruel and without any respite, and their strokes resounded like the fight of twenty nights. They sliced away the shields and battled the helmets and hewed away the harness, and each bled so fast that it was a wonder how they could endure, and thus they continued to the hour of tares, and then the sun grew hot and heated their armor so that they began to wax somewhat feeble. At this time King Abiès drew back. Hold, said he, and let us rest, if you will, thou at the best night that ever I have combatted withal. But I shall not for that spare thee, for thou hast killed him whom I loved best, and now putest me to shame that the battle should last so long before so many good men. The child of the sea answered him, King Abiès, thou hast shame for this, and not for entering this country in thy pride and doing so much evil to him who had not deserved it at thy hands. Remember that men and kings especially are not to do what they can, but what they ought. And now thou wishest to rest, so have they whom you and your oppression would not allow to rest, and that you may feel what you have made others feel. Look to yourself, for you shall not rest here. Abiès then took his sword, and a little of his shield that was left. To thy own misfortune dost thou brave me. Quoth he, for thou shall not leave these lists till I have cut off thy head. Do thy utmost, replied the child, herewith more cruelty than before they renewed the battle, as if it were even then begun. King Abiès, who was well-practiced in arms, fought warily now, warding the sword at his antagonist and striking where the blow could injure most, but the lightness and promptitude of the child made him in the end lose ground. And now his child destroyed all the remaining part of his shield and wounded him so often that the sword turned in his hand for weakness, and so pressed he was that he gave back and almost turned to fly, seeking some safety against that sword that so cruelly he felt. But when he saw no remedy but death, he grasped his sword in both hands and smote at the child, thinking to hew his helmet. The shield cut the blow, and the sword pierced in so deep that Abiès could not pull it forth. The child in return struck him so fiercely on the left leg that he cut it off and the king fell. The child set foot upon him and plucking off his helmet said, Thou art dead, King Abiès, if thou dost not yield thyself vanquished. He replied, I am indeed dead not vanquished, and my pride has overthrown me. I pray thee, let assurance be given to my people, that they may safely depart and carry me into my own country. I forgive thee and all whom I hated, and all that I have taken from King Péryan shall be restored. And I beseech you, let me be confessed. When the child of the sea heard this, he was exceedingly sorrowful for King Abiès, though he knew that he would have been without Péry had he been the conqueror. And now the men of the Amin of the town assembled in peace. King Abiès ordered all his conquests to be restored, and Péryan gave assurance to the Irish that they might return in safety. And Abiès, having received all the sacraments of the Holy Church, gave up the ghost. And they carried him to his own country, making great lamentation for his loss. King Péryan and Agriès and the chiefs of the realm then came to the child and led him away from the field with such honours as the conquerors in these feats are want to receive, who by their prowess procure not only glory to themselves but the welfare of a ruined country. The damsel of Denmark had arrived at the commencement of the battle, and now, seeing how happily it had ended, she came up to him. Child of the sea, speak with me apart. He went aside with her, and then she said, Oriani, your mistress, hath sent me, and I bring you from her this writing wherein you shall find your name. He took the writing, but he had heard nothing save the name of his lady, and that had so confused him that the writing fell from his hand, and he dropped the reins upon his horse's neck. What now, sir? growth she, take you so ill the message that comes from the noblest damsel in the world, and who so dearly loveeth you, and hath made me endure so much toil in your search? Friend, said he, I did not hear what you said for this pain which seized me, as you once witnessed here to four. She answered, you need not to assemble with me, I know both your affairs and my ladies, for she hath trusted me, and if you love her you do no wrong, for it is not easy to relate how dearly she loveeth you. And with that she repeated Oriani's message, and gave him again the writing which he opened and saw that his name was Amadeus. The damsel, having accomplished her errand, would then have returned, but he besought her to remain till the third day, and then he would accompany her. I came to you, she replied, and shall do as you command. The child then rejoined King Padion who was awaiting him. As they entered the city the people welcomed with shouts they had delivered her. So they proceeded to the palace, and in the child's chamber they found the queen and all her ladies, and they took him and their arms from his horse, and the queen disarmed him, and masters came and searched his wounds, which though many were without danger. The king desired that he and Agrius would eat with him, but he would have no other company than the damsel to whom he did all the honour that could be devised. Thus he remained some days, nor did his wounds prevent him from walking frequently in the great hall to converse with the damsel, whom he still detained till he could bear arms and accompany her. CHAPTER X CHAPTER XI. How King Padion and Queen Ellesena knew the child of the sea to be their son, Amadeus. It so happened that as he was one day walking in the hall with the damsel-young Militia, King Padion's daughter, passed by him weeping. He asked her why she wept, and she told him for a ring which her father had given her to keep while he slept, and which she had lost. I will give you another as good, said the child, and he gave her one from his finger. She looked at it and cried. This is the one I lost. Then it is the one in the world most like it. So much the better you may give it for the other. And leaving her he went with the damsel to his chamber and laid upon his bed, and she upon another that was there. The king awoke and asked his daughter for the ring. Then she gave him the same she had of the prince, which he put on thinking it was his own. For presently he saw his own line where Militia had dropped it, and taking it up he compared it with the other, which he then saw was the one which he had given to Elisena, and which she told him when he had inquired for it had been lost. He demanded to the little girl how she came by that ring, and she, who was much afraid of him, told him what had happened. Immediately he began to suspect the queen that she had fallen into some dishonest liking of the young knight for his great worth in exceeding beauty. And he took his sword and went into the queen's chamber and fastened the door. Madam, said he, you always denied to me the ring which I gave you, and the child of the sea has now given it to Militia. How came he buy it? If you tell me a lie your head shall pay for it. Ah, God, mercy! Cose Elisena, and fell at his feet, I will tell you what I have hitherto concealed, but now you suspect me. And then she told him how she had exposed the infant, with whom the ring and the sword were placed. And then she lamented and beat her face. Holy Mary! cried the king. I believe that this is our child. The queen stretched out her hands. May it please God. With that they went into his chamber whom they found sleeping, but Elisena went bitterly because of her husband's suspicion. The king took the child's sword which was at the bed's head and looking at it he knew it well, and as one wherewith he had given many and hard blows, and he said to Elisena, By my God, I know the sword. Then Elisena took the child by the arm and wakened him, who awoke in wonder and asked her why she wept. Ah, said she, who's sonna't thou? So help me, God, I know not. For by great hap I was found in the sea. The queen fell at his feet hearing him, and he cried, My God, what is all this? My son, quoth she, you see your parents. When the first joy had a little subsided he remembered the writing and took it from his bosom. Elisena saw it was what Dario Leta had written. Ah, my son, quoth she, when last I saw this writing I was in all trouble and anguish, and now I am in all happiness Blessed be God. It will long to tell what joy Agria's made in the lords of the realm at this discovery. The damsel of Denmark could now no longer abide. Sir Amadees, said she, I will go carry these good tidings to my lady, for you must tarry to give joy and gladness to those eyes that have shed so many tears for your sake. God, have you in his keeping? replied Amadees, I shall soon follow. It will come in arms like those I wore against King Abbeyes. So shall you know me. At this time would King Agria's also depart. For the damsel, when she brought him Gallipano's helmet, came with a message from his mistress, Olynda, daughter to King Vanyan of Norway. Desiring to see him with all convenient speed, he had won her love when he was with Galvanies in that kingdom. Now Galvanies was his uncle, and because he had only one poor castle to his heritage they called him Lackland. Cousin, said Agria's, I desire your company above all other things, but I must now go where my heart leads me. Where shall I find you on my return? In the house of King Lozwade, said Amadees, for there they tell me a chivalry more worldly maintained than in the house of any other king or emperor in the world. And I pray you commend me to your parents, for they as well as you may ever sustain me in their service for the education they gave me. This said Agria's took leave of the queen his aunt and departed with his company. The king and Amadees conducted him through the city. As they were going out of the city gate, they met a damsel who took Padeon's bridle and said to him, King Padeon, remember what thou were told, how when thou didst recover thy loss the kingdom of Ireland shall lose its flower. See now, if the damsel told thee true, for thou hast found thy son who was lost, and that brave King Abbeez's slain who was the flower of Ireland. And now I tell thee that never shall that country have his like till the good brother of the lady shall come, who shall proudly and violently make the tribute of other lands be brought there, and he shall die by the hands of him who must perish for the thing in the world that he loves best. This was my host of Ireland, brother to the queen, whom Sir Tristan de Allanes slew on the quarrel of tribute demanded from King Mark of Cornwell, and Tristan himself was slain afterward, because of queen Isold, who was the thing in the world that he loved best. And this, said the damsel, my mistress Utegana sends me to tell thee. Then, said Amadeez, damsel and my friend, say to her whom sent you that the night to whom she gave the lands commended thyself to her good grace, being now assured in the matter whereof then she spake, that with that lands I should deliver from death the house from whence I sprung, for I saved with it the king my father. So the damsel returned in agriers when his way. Then King Padeon summoned to Cortes that all might see his son Amadeez. And then, where great rejoicings and pastimes made in honor of the Lord whom God had given them, and many things were done in that Cortes, and many and great gifts to the king bestow. And when Amadeez heard how the giant had carried away his brother Galeor, he determined to seek him and recover him by force of arms or otherwise. When the Cortes was ended, he requested his father permission to go to Great Britain. Much did the king and queen labour to detain him. And it might not be, by reason of the love he bear, which made him obedient to none but his lady. So he clad himself in armor like that which Abbeez had destroyed in the combat, and taking none with him but Gandeline set forth. They proceeded till they came to the sea, then entered a vessel and sailed to a goodly city in Great Britain, which is called Bristol. Here he learned that King Lozwade was at his town of Windsor, wither he shaped his course. But far had he not gone when he met a damsel, who demanded of him if that were her ready way to Bristol, and if she could find shipping there for her speedy passage into Gale. Whom seek you there? said he. The good night Amadeez who was the king's son and has not long known his father. Greatly did Amadeez marvel thereat. And he asked her from whom she had heard thereof. I know it, quoth she, from her to whom nothing is hidden, from Udeganda the unknown, who now stands in such need of him that by no other can she obtain what she desires. Thanks to God, said Amadeez, she who consists all now requires me to assist her. Let us go, for I am the man whom you seek. And he foresuck his road and followed her. End of Chapter 11. Book 1. Chapters 12 and 13 of Amadeez of Galle. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. Amadeez of Galle by Vasco de Libera, translated by Robert Suthi. Book 1. Chapter 12. How Don Galleor was made a knight by Amadeez of Gaul his brother. Meantime had Galleor grown large-limbed and strong of body, and he read books which the old man gave him, discoursing of the old deeds which knight-in-arms had wrought, so that by this, as well as by nature, he became desirous to be knighted. Nevertheless he knew not whether by right such honour I pertain to him. Very earnestly he questioned thereon with the hermit. But he who knew that so soon as the child received the order he should combat against the giant albadan, would say to him in tears, My son, better were it for you to choose some other way safer for your soul. Father, replied Galleor, Badly should I follow that which I took against my will, and in this which I have chosen, by God's good pleasure I will advance his service, but without it I care not to live. The good man who saw his grounded resolution, replied, Sertes, if you fail not for yourself, you will not for your lineage, for you are son of a king and queen, but let not the giant know that I told you this. And fearing less Galleor should privately depart, he sent to tell the giant that his scholar was now of fit age and eager to be knighted. Forthwith the giant rode to the hermitage, and finding Galleor very comely and strong above his years, he said to him, I understand, son, that you are desirous to be knighted. Come with me, and I will see that it shall be done greatly to your honour. But before he departed, Galleor knelt before the hermit and begged that he would remember him. The good man wept and kissed him many times, and gave him his blessing. So he rode to the giant's castle who gave him arms to his measure, and made him ride and throw the cane, and appointed him two masters to practice him with the sword and shield, and to teach him all things convenient for a night, so that in a year's space he was grown marvellous perfect. When the year was complete, Galleor said to the giant, Now father, let me be made a knight. And he who saw that it was time, inquired of him by whom he chose to be knighted. By King Lusuate, said he, of whom the fame runs. The giant was well pleased, and on the third day, having prepared all things, they departed. In two days they came near a strong castle, which was by a salt water. The castle was called Bradoid, and it was the goodliest in all that land. It stood upon a rock. On one side was the water, and on the other a marsh, and from the side of the water it was not possible to enter without a bark. But across the marsh there was a causeway, being so broad that two cars might pass each other, and at the entrance of the causeway was a drawbridge, and the water under it was very deep. Facing the bridge there grew two goodly elms, where under the giant and Galleor saw two damsels and a squire, and a night mounted on a white coarser and bearing lions in his shield, who, because you could pass no further, called with a loud voice to those of the castle. Then Galleor said to the giant, Let us see what the night will do. Anon there came from the castle two armed knights and ten fellows on foot, who came and demanded of the night what he would. I would enter in, quoth he. That said the other cannot be, unless you first come back with us. Then lower the bridge, and come on! This presently they did, and he who was first ran fiercely against the night, who sent him man and horse to the ground. He met the second on the bridge, their lances failed in the attaint, and they encountered so rudely with their bodies that the night of the castle fell into the water and was drowned. Then the conquerors passed on towards the castle, and the villains drew up the bridge after him. At this the damsels cried aloud to him, and he turned, but there came against him three knights, well armed, who said to him, In an evil hour camest thou here, for thou shalt die in this water, as he is done who was better than thee. All three then ran at him, and smote him so firmly that his horse knelt and was like to fall, and their lances broke, and by two of them he was wounded. Nevertheless one of them he met in such order that the lance entered at one side, and came out at the other beyond the iron. Just done he drew his sword and addressed himself to the other twain, and seeing it was for death, manfully he bestirred himself and smote off the right arm of one, who galloped away and cried out, Help! Help! They are killing our lord! When he of the lions heard that he with whom he must yet deal was the lord of the castle, he delivered him such a rigorous blow on the helmet that he lost his stirrups, and staggered and fell upon the horse's neck. The knight then seized his helmet and plucked it off, and got between him and the castle lest he should escape like the other, and cried, Yield thyself, or thou art dead! Mercy, quote he, good night, and I am your prisoner. But he of the lions, who now saw knights and villains coming from the castle to succor their lord, held him by the shield, and placing the sword to his face, bade him to command his men to return, and make the bridge be lowered, which when he had done he crossed the bridge, taking his prisoner with him. When the knight of the castle saw the damsels, he knew that one of them was Urganda the Unknown, and cried out, Ah! Sir Knight! If you save me not from that damsel, I am but dead. As God shall help me, he replied, That shall I not do, but do with you what she commands. Then calling to Urganda, he said, Here is the lord of the castle, what would ye that I do unto him? Smite off his head, quote she, if he will not release my friend whom he keepeth in prison, and put the damsel in my power for whom he is detained. He be sure made no delay to send for them, and when they came, he of the lions said to the knight, There is your lady, and great cause you have to love her for the pains she hath taken to deliver you from Thraldom. And I do love her, quote he, more than ever. And then Urganda braced him. Afterwards the conqueror asked what should be done with the damsel. She shall die, said Urganda, I have long borne with her. And then she made a spell, so that the damsel ran all trembling to throw herself into the water. Lady, cried the knight of the lions, Let her not die for the love of God, since by me she was taken. For your sake, then, I forgive her. But let her take heed how she again offend me. Hearing that, the lord of the castle took heart and said, Sir Knight, I have performed with what hath been commanded. I beseech you to deliver me from Urganda. I release you," replied Urganda herself, for his sake. The knight of the lions then asked the damsel why she was going to throw herself into the water. Sir, quote she, it seemed that there were lighted torches burning me on all sides, and I ran to save myself in the water. Thereat he smiled. Sir Tess, damsel, your folly is over-great to provoke her who can so well avenge herself. Galeor, seeing all this, said to the giant, I will be knighted by him, for if King Lozoarte is so renowned, it is for his greatness, but his knight deserves to be so for his great hardy-hood. Go then and ask him, said the giant, and if he will not do it, it will be to his own harm. Then Galeor took with him four squires and two damsels, and went towards the knight of the lions, who was sitting under the elms, and saluted him, and said, Sir Knight, grant me a boon. He who thought him the goodliest person he had ever seen, took him by the hand and said, Let it be lawful, and I grant it. Then I beg you of your courtesy, make me a knight, and you will spare me the journey to King Lozoarte. Great wrong should you do yourself, replied he of the lions, to leave receiving that honour from the best king in the world, and take it from a poor knight like me. Sir, quote Galeor, the greatness of King Lozoarte can put no courage in me like that which I have seen you do. Therefore, so please you, fulfill your promise. Gentle squire, I shall be better content to grant anything than this which befits not me, and is to you little honour. At this Urganda came up as one who had heard nothing of their talk, and asked him what he thought of the child. Truly a fairer have I never seen, but he asked a thing of me neither for himself nor me convenient, and then he related what had passed. Sir Tess, said Urganda, I advise him to insist upon the promise, and you to fulfil it, and I tell you that knighthood will be better employed in him than in any other in all the isles of the sea except only one. Since it is so, said the knight, in God's name let us go to some church to perform the vigil. It is not necessary, answered Galeor, for I have this day heard mass, and seen the real body of God. It suffices, then, said he of the lions, and having fastened on his spur, he kissed him and said, Now are you a knight, and may receive the sword from whom it pleases you. That, said Galeor, must be only from you. And he called a squire to bring the sword which was ready. Not that, then cried Urganda, but this which hangs in a tree. They all looked up and saw nothing. She laughed there at. Ten years hath it hung there, and no passenger ever saw it, and now it shall be seen by all. They looked again, and there hung the sword from a bow, a fair sword, and fresh, as if it were just hung there, and the scabbard was richly wrought with silk and gold. He of the lions took it down, and girding it on Galeor said, So fair or sore, beseemeth, so fair a knight, and whoso is kept it there for you so long, bears you, be sure, no ill will. Then was Galeor well contented. Sir, quoth he, I must needs go to a place once I cannot be excused, but I desire your company above that of any other in the world, and if it please you, tell me where I may find you. At the house of King Lizuate, where I hope to win honor, and where it is right that you should go for the same cause. At this was Galeor right joyful, and turning to Urganda he said, Damsel, my lady, I thank you for this sword which you have given, and I pray you account me for your knight. Then taking leave he returned to the giant, who had remained concealed under the river-bank. This while had one of Galeor's damsels learnt from the damsel of Urganda that the knight of the lions was Amadis, whom Urganda had brought thither to deliver her friend by force of arms, for her skill availed not, because the lady of the castle, who was learned in the same art, had first enchanted him. The damsel who had beguiled him there was the lady's niece, and she it was who had been about to drown herself. After Galeor was departed Urganda demanded of Amadis if he knew to whom he had given the order of knighthood. No, said he. There is great reason that you should know him, quote she, for he is of like heart with yourself, and if ever ye should encounter without knowledge of each other, it would be great unhappiness. He is your own brother whom the giant took away in childhood, and for your sake and his I have so long kept the sword for him, wherewith he shall make the best beginning of chivalry that ever did knight yet in Great Britain. Then came tears of joy over the eyes of Amadis. Ah, lady, tell me where I shall find him. You need not seek him now. He must go where it is ordained. Shall I see him soon? Yes, but he will not be as easily known as you imagine. So she and her friend departed, and Amadis and Gandalin took the way to Windsor. When Galeor returned to the giant, he cried out to him, Father, I am a knight. Thanks to God and the good knight who has made me. Thereof am I right glad, quote he, and now grant me a boon. With a good will so be that you withhold me not from seeking honor. By God's good pleasure it shall be to the advancement of your honor. Son, you have heard me tell how Abaddon the Giant slew my father by treason, and took the rock of Galtares, which should be mine. I demand of you to write me, for none but you can do it. Remember how I have brought you up, and that I would give my body to death for your sake. This, said Galeor, is what I ought to ask, not you. For while life lasts, I am ready to do whatever is to your profit and honor. Let us go there, in the name of God, said the Giant. So as they rode toward the rock of Galtares they met Erganda, and courteously saluted. Know you, said she, who knighted you? Yes, quote he, the best knight in the world. That is true, and he is yet better than you think, but you must know who he is. She then said to the Giant, Gandalak, dost thou not know that this night whom thou hast nourished is the son of King Periana and Queen Elisena, whom because of my words you carried away? The Giant answered that it was true. Know then, my son, said she, that he who made the knight is thine own brother, and elder than thee by two years. Honor him as the best knight in the world, and strive to imitate him in all hardy-hood and goodness. Is all this true? said Galior. Then is my life in the greater danger, since it becomes me now to be like him. Of a certainty it is true, said Erganda, and with that she went her way. As they rode on, the Giant told Galior that the damsel with whom they spake was Erganda. In this discourse they came to a riverside, where by reason of heat they erected their tent. They had not been there long before they saw two damsels coming by different ways who met before the tent. So soon as they aspired the Giant they would have fled, but Galior went out and courteously caused them to return, and asked them whether they traveled. I go, quote one of them, by command of my mistress, to see a strange battle which one only knight hath undertaken against the mighty Giant of the Rock of Galtares, to the end that I may bring her true tidings thereof. When the other damsel heard her, she replied, I marvel that any night dare venture with such folly, and though my road lie otherwise, yet will I go with you and see a thing so out of reason. Hereupon they would have left Galior, but he said to them, Make no haste, fair damsels, for we are going to this battle, and will bear ye company. They lightly consented, and took great pleasure to behold him how fair he was in that dress of a new night. So they all ate together, and made good cheer, and Galior took the Giant apart, and requested that he would remain where he was till the battle was over. This he did that the damsels might not suspect it was he who was to do the battle, where to Gandalak, though unwillingly, accorded. So Galior proceeded with the damsels and three squires whom the Giant sent to carry his armor and what else was needful. So far they went that they arrived within two leagues of the Rock of Galtares, and there passed the night in the dwelling of a hermit, to whom, because he was ordained, Galior confessed. But when he revealed that he came for that combat, the good hermit was greatly astonished, and asked who had devised him to such madness. There are not ten such knights in all the country who would encounter him, so fierce and terrible is he, and without mercy, and you who are so young would adventure yourself to the loss of body and soul, for such as willfully seek the death which they might avoid, are very self-murderers. Father, said Galior, God will do his will with me, but I shall not forgo the battle. Then the good man began to lament, God help thee and strengthen thee, quote he, since thou art so obstinate, but I am glad to find thy life has been so good. Good Father, said Galior, remember me and your prayers. The next morning after Mass, Galior armed himself, and rode to the rock which he saw before him. It was very lofty and with many towers, so that the castle was so goodly that it was a wonder to behold. The damsel asked Galior if he knew the knight who should perform the combat. I think I have seen him, said he, and then he asked the damsel who her lady was that had sent her to see the battle. That, quote she, must be told to none but the knight himself. By this time they had reached the castle and found the gate shut. Galior called, and two men then appeared over the gate, to whom he said, tell the giant that here is a knight who comes from Gandalak to defy him, and if he will not come out, there shall no man either enter or leave the castle. The men mocked at him, this heat will soon cool, that won't either fly or lose thy head, and they went to the giant. But when the damsels heard that Galior himself was the champion, they prayed God to help him, and said they durst not abide to see the giant. Fair friends, said he, stay and see that for which he are come, or else return to the Hermitage, and if I live I will join ye there. Then they took courage, and retiring from the castle stood at the edge of a forest, thinking to escape there, if the knight should not speed well. Chapter 13 How Don Galior fought the giant of the Rock of Galtares and conquered him The news went to the giant, and presently he came out on horseback, and he appeared so huge upon the horse that not a man in the world would dare look at him. He had on plates of iron so long that they covered him from the throat to the saddle, and a large and bright helmet, and an iron mace in his hand. Greatly afraid were the squires and damsels to behold him, and Galior was not so hardy but that then he had great fear, but the nearer he came the less he feared. Retch, said the giant, he who sent thee shall never see thee again. Look, and see how a mace is used, and he came on like a tower. Devil, quoth Galior, thou shalt be conquered and killed with what I bring on my side, which is God and the right. And he ran at him so fiercely that his lance broke, and the giant lost one of his stirrups. He, on his part, had lifted up his mace to strike Galior on the head, but the night passed so rapidly that it only struck the rim of his shield, and burst all the arm and neck fastenings, so that it fell, and Galior had well nigh fallen also. This did not break the blow, nor could the giant recover the mace which came upon the head of his own horse and smote him down, so that he himself fell. Galior twice rode over the giant before he could rise, but then his own horse stumbled over the giants, and he fell on the other side. The night, seeing himself and the chance of death, rose presently and drew the sword which Urganda had given him, and met the giant, who had now taken his mace from the ground, and struck it on the wooden stock that he severed it. But with the peace that was left, the giant gave him such a blow on the helmet as made him set one hand to the ground, and twisted the helmet on his head. But he who was nimble and of good heart rose presently, and turned to the giant, and avoided his next blow, and gave a stroke at him with so full force that it cut away the arm clean from the shoulder, and passing down wounded him in the leg. The giant roared aloud, Ah, wretch! Am I destroyed by one man? And he caught it, Galior, but his wounded limb failed him. Then he sat down, and with his remaining hand sought to seize the night, but Galior cut that hand through, and sprung upon him, for in outreaching he had fallen along, and smote off his head. The squires and damsels then came up, and Galior sent the squires with the head to Gandalak. With that there came through the gate ten nights chained together, who bade him come and take possession of the castle, seeing that he had slain the giant and delivered them. What think you, damsels? said Galior, shall we sojourn here tonight? They assented there too, and he freed the knights from their chain, and so went they all into the castle where there were many goodly houses, and there they feasted and refreshed themselves. The next day the people of the land came to do him homage. But he took their homage for Gandalak to whom of right it belonged, and right joyful were they hearing that their natural lord should return, for they had long been hardly ruled, and like foreign subjects. This done, Galior and the damsels, and one squire who continued with him, took the way to the hermitage, and there the knight received the good man's blessing. The one damsel then said she would pursue her journey to King Lisuarte's court, whether she was going to see a knight. Her brother. Damsel? then said Galior, if you see there a knight bearing two lions in his shield, say the child whom he made knight commends himself to him, and that I shall strive to be a good man, and that if we meet I shall tell him more concerning both me and himself than he yet knows. And when she was gone Galior asked the other who her lady was that sent her to see the battle. If you would know that, said she, follow me, and in five days you shall see. That shall not let me, quote he, so they went on together. At length they came to a forked way, and Galior, who rode before, thought that the damsel followed him, but she had taken the other. This was at the entrance of the forest called Brananda, which separates the counties Clara and Greska. It was not long before he heard a voice cry, help me, help me. He turned, and the squire said he thought it was the damsel who had left them. How? Left us? I have badly looked to her, quote he, and he took shield in lance and galloped towards the sound. Hard at hand he aspired six villains, armed with morions and battle-axes, and a hideous dwarf on horseback who cruelly laid on the damsel with a staff. Thou wicked and ugly thing, quote the knight, God send thee bad luck! And passing the lance to his left hand he seized the staff, and therewith smote him to the ground and stunned him. The villains then attacked him on all sides, but to the first he gave such a greeting with the staff that he lay sprangling on the earth. Another, who had fixed his battle-axe in his shield, and could not pluck it out again, he smote through with the lance, and left the lance, and made at the others with the battle-axe which he plucked from his own shield. But they durced not now abide him, and fled into the thick underwood where he could not follow. By this the dwarf had got again on horseback, and calling out to Gallior, hidden evil hour thou hast killed my men, he galloped away. Then Gallior drew his lance from the body of the villain, and saw that it was sound which pleased him, and he gave his arms to the squire, and said, Damsel, go you before me, and I will guard you better than I have done. So took they again the way they had left, and it soon brought them to the river Brann, which could not be passed without a boat. Now rode the Damsel somewhat far before Gallior, and finding the boat ready she crossed before him. While he waited for the boat's return, the dwarf came and cried, By my faith, sir traitor, thou shalt die, and leave the Damsel! And Gallior saw that there came with him three nights, well armed and mounted. What, quote the one, shall we all agree to set upon a single enemy? I want no help! And he ran with a full course against Gallior who was ready to entertain him. They encountered in such sort that the night pierced Gallior's armor, making him feel the naked point of his lance, and Gallior bade him bravely welcome and cast him from the saddle. Where at the other twain admiring ran both against him, the one failing and the other breaking his lance. Gallior smote off the helmet of the one, the other turned and struck at his breast and broke his lance, but though Gallior felt the blow sorely, it wounded him not. Then they all laid hand to sword and began battle, the dwarf crying out, Kill his horse that he may not escape! Gallior aimed to blow at him whom he had unhelmed. He raised up his shield, and the sword cut through the rim of the shield, and the point came on his head and cleaved it to the jaws. And when the other night saw that stroke, he turned his horse and away. Gallior followed, and made a blow at him, which fell short upon the saddle, and cut away many plates of his armor. And he then, in more fear, spurred his horse and threw his shield from his neck, and galloped so fast that Gallior would follow him no longer. Gallior would then have caught the dwarf to have tied him by the leg, but that little wretch had ridden off betimes. Hereupon he came to the first whom he had dismounted, who had now somewhat recovered. I am more sorry for you, Sir Knight, said he, than for your comrades, for you attacked me in nightly guise, though I know not wherefore. It is true, replied he, but that dwarf told us that you had beaten him and slain his men, and take it from him a damsel against her will. Gallior then showed him the damsel waiting for him on the other side of the river. You see her, said he, and if she were with me against her will she would not wait there. Then relating how the truth was, he gave the night his horse, and, bidding him torment the dwarf for his villainy, he took leave of him. Then Gallior crossed at the ferry and proceeded under the damsel's guidance. Between Nones, which is three in the afternoon, and Vespers, she showed him a fair castle that stood above a valley, and said to him, there we shall go to rest. And they were well received, it being the dwelling of the damsel's mother, whom she bade honor her guest as the best night that ever hung shield from his neck. Then said she to Gallior, Good night, you must wait a while for me here, that I may perform what I have promised. I shall soon return. So she went, and without long tearing, returned, and told him to mount and come with her. In God's name, quoth he, and he took his arms and mounted and followed her. They rode through a forest, and when the night was advanced came to a city called Grand Darius, and at the castle the damsel told him to alight and follow her, and there she would tell him what she had promised. Shall I take my arms? said he. Yes, she replied, for man knows not what may happen to him. He followed her to a wall. She told him to get over, and she would go round and meet him. Gallior with some difficulty got up, by reason of his arms, and led himself carefully down into a garden, where presently the damsel came and another with her. Sir Knight, said she, before you enter you must tell me whose son you are. Let that alone, quoth Gallior, for I am of such parents that till I am of more renown I dare not name them. You must tell me, and it shall not be to your harm. No, then, I am son to King Perion and Queen Elisena, and I could not have told you that seven days past. Come in, the damsel then said, and having entered they disarmed him and threw a mantle over him. The one went before and the other behind him, and so they passed through the palace, where were many dames and damsels in bed, and when any one asked who was there, the two damsels answered. Thus they went on till they came into a chamber, and there Gallior saw a beautiful damsel on a rich bed, combing her goodly locks. And when she saw him, she put a fair garland on her head and went to him. You are very welcome, sir, being the best knight that I know. And you, lady, said he, are very well found, being the fairest lady that ever I saw. Then said the damsel who had guided him, here, sir, is my mistress, and I have fulfilled my promise. Her name is Aldeva, the daughter of the King of Sirolis, and she has been brought up here by her aunt, wife to the Duke of Bristol. Then, turning to her lady, I give you the son of King Perion of Gall. You are both children of kings, and both fair persons. If ye should love each other, no one can blame ye. And with that the damsels left them together, and nothing more shall be here related, for these and such like things which are neither conformable to good conscience nor virtue, man ought in reason lightly to pass over, holding them in as little estimation as they deserve. The hour being come when it behooved him to depart, the damsels conducted him to the place where overnight he had left his arms, and being armed he went again into the garden, and there he found the dwarf, who cried out, In an ill hour dits thou enter here, for now thou shalt die and the wretch that led thee here. Then he called out aloud, Come out, knights, come out, for here is a man, come out of the Duke's chamber. Gallior lightly got over the wall and mounted his horse, but the dwarf and his people speedily came out upon him. And when Gallior saw himself so beset, he said within himself, Let me die if I be not revenged upon that villainous dwarf. But he kept behind upon his horse, and the rest come past the night on all sides. Gallior laid manfully about him, and slew to before he broke his lance, then fell on them with his sword, and made them so soundly acquainted with its sharp edge, that he who thought himself hardiest was glad to give way. But before he could cut his road through, they killed his horse, and when the dwarf saw him on foot, he attempted to ride over him. Gallior stepped aside and caught his bridle, and gave him such a blow on the breast with his sword-hilt that he fell off, and the blood gushed out of his ears and nose. Then he leaped upon his horse, but in springing up he dropped the reins, and the horse rode off some distance before he could recover them. He would then have turned back to revenge himself, but he saw his lady shaking a handkerchief from a tower window in token that he should depart, and so he rode into the forest. There were some who were of opinion that they should follow him, but others said it was in vain seeing that he had gotten into the wood, and they were all astonished at what they had done. The dwarf now recovering cried out, Carry me to the duke, and I will tell him on whom to take vengeance. They took him in their arms, and he told the duke how he found the damsel in the forest, and wished to bring her back, and all that had followed. The duke then asked him if he knew the damsel where she was, and all the damsels in the palace were called before him, and as soon as the dwarf beheld her, he said, This is she by whom your palace is dishonored. Ah, trade her, quotes she. You were beating me in the forest, and that good night defended me. But the duke was greatly incensed, and said he would force her to confess the truth, and he put her in prison. Yet neither evils nor torments made her discover anything, and there she remained in prison, to the great grief of Aldeva who dearly loved her, and knew not by whom to send tidings to her friend Galeor. END OF CHAPTER XIII CHAPTER XIV How Amades came to the castle of Darden in the proud, and of the words which he had with him, and of the battle which he had with him in the court of King Lozwade. Amades, after he had left Madaganda, rode on through the forest till he was benighted. After some time he saw a light above the trees, and rode toward it thinking to find a lodging. He came at length to a goodly fortress, wherein were the lights that he had seen, which were from the window of a tower, and he heard the voices of men and women singing and making mirth. He called at the gate, but they heard him not. At last those in the tower saw him through the battlements, and at night asked who was there. A strange night. So it seems, Quothee, you must be a strange night to go about in the dark. I believe it is for fearless you should be obliged to do battle with us by daylight. And now you can meet none but the devils. Amades answered, if you were good for anything, you would know that many are benighted who cannot help it. Be gone, Quothee, night. You shall not enter here. As God shall help me, said Amades, I think thou hast no man of valor in thy company. Tell me thy name before we part. That shall I do on condition that when so ever we meet, thou will fight me. To that, Amades, who was in wrath, readily assented. Know then that my name is Dodden, and badly as thou will fare this night, thou will fare much worse the day that I shall meet thee. Come out, Quoth Amades, and let them light us by those torches to do battle. What, said Dodden, are myself at this hour to fight with thee? He'll fall the night who should put on his spurs and harness with such an enemy. And with that he went in. Amades proceeded through the forest, seeking some bush under which he might shelter himself. Presently he heard voices, and proceeding faster he came up to two damsels on their palfries, attended by a squire. They saluted courteously, and Amades recounted his adventure. Know you the night's name, said they. He told me it was Darden. True, he is called Darden the proud, the haughtiest night in this country. But, sir, seeing that you are so unprovided of lodging, will you abide this night in our tents which are pitched near at hand? He, glad of their courtesy, rode with them, and having there alighted he unarmed, and when the damsels saw how fair he was they delighted to see him. So they subbed cheerfully together, and a tent was spread for him wherein he should sleep. Meantime, they asked him whether he was bound to the court of King Luwade, and we are going there also to see what will happen to a lady, one of the best and noblest in the land. All that she hath in the world is put upon the issue of a combat, which is to be performed within ten days before King Luwade. But we know not who will appear to defend her, for he against whom her champion must fight is the best night in Great Britain. That very Darden the proud whom you so lately left. And on what cause, said Amadeus, arises the combat. This Darden loveth the daughter of a knight, who at his second nuptials married the lady I speak of. Now hath this damsel conceived such hatred against her stepmother, that she hath vowed never to love Darden, unless he bring her to King Luwade's court, and affirm that all her stepmother's goods appertain to her, and maintain it by battle against whom soever dare gain say. And the dame, who was not well advised, said she would produce a champion, and this she did for her manifest right, thinking that one would be found to combat for her. But Darden is so good a knight in arms, that be it for right or wrong, all fear him. These tidings rejoiced Amadeus, for the knight was against all pride, and now might he indulge his own anger and a just cause, and that in the presence of Aureliana. I pray you, sir, said one of the damsels, for courtesy acquaint with us the reason of your sudden musing. Willingly, if you will promise me, as loyal damsels, not to reveal it, I mean, quoth he, to combat for the lady. Gentle sir, that thought proceeded from a high resolved mind. God granted a good issue, so gave thee each to the other the good night, and went to rest. In the morning the damsels entreated that he would not leave them, seeing they were bound to one place, and that in the forest kept men of evil behavior. They wrote along with sundry discoursings, and among other talk they asked the knight, since God had placed them in company, that he would tell them his name, though which he did, but charge them to let none know it. So they proceeded through unfrequented ways, lodging in their tents and regaling on the food they took with them. At length they saw two knights under a tree, armed and on horseback, who seeing them placed themselves in the way, the one saying to his companion, which of these damsels will you have? This, quoth he, and sees the one as his comrade to the other. What serves, quoth Amades, what manner of behavior is this? What would you do with the damsels? Make them amistresses. So lightly think ye to win them, said he, and took his helm and shield and lance, now release them. The one knight made him bravely and broke his lance, but Amades gave him such an attain that he lay with his heels upwards. The second came on and pierced through his arms and slightly wounded Amades. He on his part failed with his lance, but shields and horses met, and Amades seized him and plucked him from the saddle, and dashed him down, and then rode on with the damsels. When at length they came near Windsor. Amades said, Fair friends, I would remain in secret here till such time as the night come to the combat. And when the hour is, let your squire bring me hither tidings thereof. Sir, quoth the damsel, if it please you, we will remain with you. So they pitched their tents apart from the road by the riverside. Meanwhile, Amades went upon a little eminence to look at the town, and there he sat under a tree, and looked toward the towers and the high walls, and said in his heart, Ah, God, the flower of the world is there, and now city contain us now the lady that hath no peer for goodness and beauty, and who is more loved than all others that are loved, and that would I prove upon the best night in the world. And in these thoughts the tears trilled down his cheeks, and he sat heedless of everything about him. But Gandalin, who saw a troop of knights and ladies coming up, called to him, and asked if he did not see that company. He neither heard nor answered. With that, Gandalin took him by the arm. So help me, God, sir. You afflict yourself more than need is. Take courage, as you do in other things. Ah, Gandalin, quoth he, you had better counsel me to die than to endure this hopeless sorrow. Then could not the squire refrain from lamenting. The success of love is a great misfortune. As God shall help me, I do not think there is anyone, how good and beautiful so ever she may be, who can equal your worth of whom you might not have. At this was Amadeus greatly enraged. Go, idiot, said he, how dare you talk so madly. If ever you again repeat such thoughts, you shall go no father with me. Draw your eyes, said Gandalin, and let not them who are coming see you thus. It was the lady coming to her trial, weeping and lamenting as she went, for there was none to defend her right. On the day of the trial the damsels rose at dawn and told Amadeus that they would go before to the town, and send him word when it was time to appear. He rode with them to the edge of the forest, and there awaited. By this it was sunrise, and King Lozwade, with a goodly company, went out to the field which was between the city and the forest. And there came Darden, well armed and on a fair coarser, leading the bridle of his lady, who was as richly adorned as she could be. And thus they stopped before King Lozwade, and Darden said, Sir, command that this lady have that which is her own delivered to her. Or if there be a night to gain say it, I am ready to combat him. Lozwade then called the dame and asked her if she was provided with a champion. She answered no, and wept, and the king greatly pitied her, for she was a virtuous lady. So Darden entered the list to remain there till the hour of terse. By which time, if no champion appeared, the king was to pronounce judgment in his favor, according to the custom. Then one of the damsels hastened to call Ahmadis, and he took his arms and told the damsels in Gandalin that if he sped well, he would return to them in the tents, and with that he rode on on his white coarser. When the king saw the night approach, how firmly he rode in his arms, how fair they were in his horse, how goodly he was, he marveled who he might be, and he asked the dame, who was brought to trial, if she knew the night who came to defend her cause. I never saw him before, quote she, nor know I who he is. By this Ahmadis entered the list and rode up to his enemy. Darden, defend your lady's cause, as I shall maintain and acquit the promise which I made thee. And what did thou promise me, quote Darden, to fight thee, and that was when thou toldest me thy name, and hath dealt with me villainously. I make the less account of thee now, said Darden, and I, said Ahmadis, care less for thy words, for I am about to have vengeance. Let the dame then, replied Darden, accept thee for her champion, and avenge thyself if thou canst. The king then came up, the dame was asked if she would admit the night for her defender. She replied, yes, and God reward him. Lozwade saw that the shield of Ahmadis was pierced in many places, and that the rim had many sword cuts, and he said, if the night demanded another shield, he could lawfully give him one. But Ahmadis was in no temper for delay, for he remembered the unsalts he had received. They ran their course, both lances pierced through shield and armor and shivered, but without wounding. Their horses and shields met, and Darden was thrown, but held the rain fast, and sprung readily upon the horse again, and drew his sword, and they attacked each other so fiercely that all who be held them were astonished. The townspeople were on the towers and on the wall, and wherever else they could see the combat, and the windows of the Queen's Palace, which were above the wall, were full of dames and damsels, all marveling at the fallar of the combatants, for the fire flew from their helmets as if they were all ablaze, and plates and splinters fell on all sides from their shields and mail, and neither a whip abated of his courage. King Lozwade had been himself in many a hard conflict and seen many one, but all appeared nothing to this. This is the bravest combat, said he, that ever man hath seen, and I will have the conqueror's image placed over my palace gate, that all who are desirous to gain honor may behold it. But before the hour of terse, it was evident that Darden's force failed, though Amadeus was nothing abated of his strength, only his horse was faint, and Darden's also stumbled, and he, thinking to have the advantage on thought, said to Amadeus, Night, our horses fail us for fatigue. If we were on foot, I should soon conquer thee. This, he said so loud that the king and all with him could hear, and Amadeus somewhat ashamed of the threat answered, alight then, though a knight should never leave his horse while he can sit on it. Then a lighting labels took what of their shields remained and assailed each other most fiercely than before, but Amadeus now pressed on him, and Darden retreated and staggered and sometimes bent his knees, so that all the beholders said he had committed a great folly in proposing to fight on foot, and he still giving back from the sword of Amadeus came under the queen's window and there was a cry there. Holy Mary, Darden is slain, and Amadeus heard among them the voice of the damsel of Denmark. Then he looked up and saw his lady Oriana at the window, and the damsel by her. That sight so overcame him with the sword on loose in his hand, and he continued looking out regardless of his situation. Darden, recovering by this respite, noticed his confusion and took out again, and lifting the sword with both hands smote him on the helmet so that it was twisted on his head. Amadeus did not return the blow, he only placed his helmet right again, and with that Darden laid on him at all parts, and he feebly defended himself, and Darden's courage increased. Then cried the damsel of Denmark, and an ill minute did that night look up and see one here who made him forget himself when his enemy was at the point of death. Surty, such a night ought not to fail in such a time. At these words Amadeus had such shame that willingly would he have been dead, lest his lady should suspect there was any cowardice in him, and he struck a blow at Darden that brought him down, and plucked his helmet off, and held the sword to his face. Darden, you are dead unless you yield the cause. Mercy, night, quoth he, and I yield it. Then the king came up, but Amadeus, for the shame of what had befallen him, would make no terrients, but sprung to his halls and rode the fastest that he could into the forest. The mistress of Darden, who saw him so rudely handled, came up to him now and said, Seek now, Darden, some other mistress, for I will neither love thee nor any other than that good night who overcame thee. What, said Darden, have I been so wounded and conquered in your quarrel, and now you forsake me for the very enemy? God, thou art a bright woman to say this, and I will give thee thy reward, and he took his sword and in a moment smote her head from her body. Then after a minute's thought he cried, how wretched I have slain the thing in the world that I loved best, and he ran himself through before anyone could stop his hand. In the uproar that this occasioned, none thought of following Amadeus, and though Darden was so brave a knight, yet most who were present now rejoiced at his death, for his strength had always been unjustly and tyrannically employed. End of Chapter 14, Chapter 15, of the funeral which King's Wadi gave Darden and his mistress, and what Amadeus did meanwhile, King's Wadi then commanded two monuments to be placed upon lions of stone there. In the place where the battle was fought, and Darden and his mistress were interred therein, and their names were inscribed on the monument, and all that had been chanced, and afterwards when the king knew the name of the conqueror, that also was written there. But now the rumor being appeased, the Zwadi asked where was the stranger. None could give tidings of him, save only that he had ridden full speed toward the forest. Well were he, quote the king, who should have such a man in his company, as strong as he is, he is right gentle. Ye all heard the insolence of Darden, yet he would not slay him when he was in his power, though Darden would have shown no mercy if the conquest had been his. Amadeus, meantime, had entered the forest. It was late when he reached the tents, where he found Gandeline and the damsels who had made their meal ready. And when the clothes were removed, he took Gandeline apart and baited him go to the town and secretly speak with the damsel of Denmark, and learned from her how he should proceed. Gandeline, that he might go more privately, went on foot and entering the town made toward the palace, where he had not awaited long when he saw the damsel, who was watchful for him. Follow me, said she, and if you are questioned, say you bring a message from this queen of Scotland to Audiana in that you are come to join Amadeus in this country. For so shall you appear in his company without suspicion. They then entered the queen's palace, who Audiana then was, to whom the damsel came and speaking somewhat loud, said, Here is a squire sent to you from the queen of Scotland. Audiana rejoiced there at, but greater was her joy when she saw it was Gandeline, who knelt before her and said, Madam, the queen salutes you as one who loves and prizes you, in whom your welfare will make glad. May the queen have a fair fortune, replied Audiana. I thank her kindness. Come with me to this window and tell me the rest. Then they retired, and she made him sit by her and asked him, Friend, where did you leave your master? In the forest where he went after the battle. Tell me how he fared, so may God prosper you. Even so, quote Gandeline, as the man that is altogether yours and dies for you, and his soul suffers so as never night endure, and then he wept. Lady, he will not break your command for good nor for ill. That may befall him. For God's sake, have compassion on him. For if he lives, he will be the best night that ever bore arms. But good fortune failed him when he saw you, and he will die before his time. And better had he died on the sea, for he was thrown before his parents knew him. For now they see him perish and can give him no relief. Audiana wept and clasping her hands and interlacing her fingers, one with the other. She cried, For God's sake, Gandeline, say no more. You blame me, because you know his feelings and do not know mine. She then showed him the garden under the window. Go to your master and tell him to come secretly tonight into this garden. The chamber wherein I and Mabilia sleep is underneath this. And it has a grated window near the ground. There can we speak to each other, for Mabilia knows my heart. And she took a ring from her finger, and bade him give it to Amades as the jewel which he most prized. Then she called Mabilia to see the squire who brought tidings from her mother. Mabilia, seeing Gandeline, understood how it was. Audiana went to the queen who asked her when the squire would return, for she would send presents by him to the Queen of Scotland. He has come, said the princess, to seek for Amades, son of the King of Gaul, the good night of whom there is so much talk. He saith it is more than ten months since he heard that night was coming here and Marvel said he finds him not. Now trust me, replied the queen. Right glad would I be to see such a night in the king, my husband's, company. Great aid would he prove to him. And I tell you that if he come, he shall not depart for want of anything that he can ask and the king Lozoate can give. So Gandeline returned to Amades for his tidings, and after the hour of rest they took their arms and rode to town. They tied their horses in a tuft of trees adjoining the garden, and entering through a way made by a water-course came to the window and Gandeline called in low voice. Odiana, who did not sleep, heard him and rose and called Mabilia, for here said she, he's your cousin. My cousin calls Mabilia? That indeed he is, but you have a nearer interest in him than all his lineage. Then they both went to the window and placed candles there that gave a great light and opened it. By that light Amades saw his lady, and she appeared more beautiful than man could fancy woman could be. She had on a robe of Indian silk, thickly wrought with flowers of gold. Her hair was so beautiful that it was a wonder, and she had covered it only with a garland. Amades trembled all over with the great delight of seeing her. There they conversed till daybreak, and Odiana bathed him, remained with her father if he shouldn't treat him, and at dawn Amades returned to the tents. When it was morning Amades sent Gandeline into the town, and he remained in the tent with one of the damsels, for the other had gone to the town. Soon she returned in haste upon her palfrey, weeping aloud. Sir Knight, said she, the lady for whom you did battle is detained by the king, who will not let her depart till her champion appears. He is wrath with her, thinking that she has concealed you, and he has sent to seek you in all parts. Tell her, said Amades, that if the king will demand of me nothing against my will, I will appear before him to-morrow at the hour of tears. With this bidding she returned. The news spread through the palace in the town, and all greatly rejoiced that they should see the good night, who had subdued Darden. End of Chapter 15 Chapter 16 How Amades made himself known to Kingswate and the other nights of his court. That day Amades made cheer with the damsels. The next morning they rode with him to the apartment of the day in their cousin, who seeing her champion knelt to him and said, Sir, all that I possess you have given me. Lady, said he, let us go to the king that he may discharge you, and I may go my way. Then he took off his helm, and they all went to the palace, and there was a great cry. Here is the night who conquered Darden. The king heard it and came out to him and said, Welcome, friend, for you have been greatly desired here. And Amades knelt down and said, Sir, God give you joy. The king took him by the hand. So help me, God, you are of good night. That praise Amades heard thankfully. He asked if the day was free, and assured Lizwati that she knew not till now who had been her champion. And when he saw her at liberty, he requested the king's leave to depart. Our friend, said Lizwate, not so soon, unless you would do me great displeasure. That God forbid, quoth he, I have it rather at heart to do you service if I were worthy. Then I beseech you remain here, said the king. Where too Amades assented, but he made no semblance that it pleased him. So the king led him to an apartment, and all the knights of renown who were there came to disarm him. For this was the king who most honored good nights and had the greatest number in his house. And Lizwate gave him a robe to cover himself withal, and calling King Arben of North Wales and the Duke of Gloucester, bade them keep company with that night, for he was a worthy companion for good men. He then went to the queen and told her how he had in his house the good night who won the battle. Know you his name, close chief. Per adventure he is the son of King Paedion or Yon Squire who was talking with Mabilia, came in search of him. And the king called to Gandeline, come with me and see if you know a knight who was in my palace. Gandeline followed him as one who knew what he should do. And as soon as he sawed Amades, he knelt to him and cried, Sir Amades, great Travile, have I endured to find you. Then, replied the knight, Gandeline, my good friend, right heartily art thou welcome, what news from the king of Scotland? Good tidings, sir, of him and of all your friends. With that, Lizawati embraced him. Now, sir, you need no longer conceal yourself, for you are that Amades, the son of King Paedion who slew and battled the valiant king Abias of Ireland. All that approached to gaze at him the more, knowing that he had performed such feats and arms as none other could have achieved. Much honour was there done him all that day, and when night came, King Arben of North Wales lodged him. Lizawati, meantime, took counsel with his wife how he might detain Amades in his court. Sir, calls she, it would be an evil report of so great a man as you, if such a knight should leave his house and had not received all that he asked. He asked me nothing, said Lizawati, for I would grant him anything. I will tell you how it must be. Let someone ask him to remain on your part, and if he will not consent, bid him come, see me before each parts, and die in Audiana and his cousin Mabilia will entreat him, for they know him well, ever since he was a child and served them. You say well, said Lizawati, and doubtless he will stay. If not, we may say of him with reason that he have more lack of courtesy than courage. King Arben of North Wales spoke with Amades that night, but could obtain no hope of his stay. In the morning they heard mass with the king, and that over, Amades went to take leave of him. Serti's friend, said Lizawati, I am loath at your departure. Yet for the promise I made must not entreat your stay, but the queen requests to see you before you go. Amades went to her and would have kissed her hand. She made him be seated near her and conversed with him, and Mabilia came and embraced him, as though she had not seen him before. Rosiana called to her daughter, received this night who served you when he was a child, and shall serve you now he is a knight if he fail not in courtesy. Help me all to persuade him to what I shall ask. Sir Knight, the king my husband hath wished you to remain with him, and he could not prevail. Now shall I see, if women have more power than men with a knight. I pray you remain and be my knight, and my daughters, and theirs whom you see here. In this shall you show your courtesy, and you will save us from the need of asking the king to give us a knight for our service. Since having you we can dispense with all his. Then they all came and besought him, and Orianna made a sign with her looks that he should consent. Well, Sir Knight, said Brezena, what will you do? What can I do, lady, but remain at your command, who are the noblest queen in the world? I am at your service, and your daughters, and afterward at the service of all these. But I am only yours, and if I shall ever do service to the king, it shall be as your knight, and not as his. As such I receive you, said the queen, the Samedis, by his lady's command, abode in the house of King Lozwate. Galeor, after he had left the Duke of Bristol's castle, with the dwarf had so annoyed him, rode on through the forest of Anita, till our vespers, without finding any habitation, or knowing whether he went, and at that time he met a squire on a right goodly steed. Galeor had received a bad wound from one of the three knights who assailed him by the river, and his last knight's dalliance had inflamed it. So he saluted the squire, and asked him where he could go to be healed. I know a place, said the squire, but such as you dare not go there. Shall I find one there who will cure my wound? You will find those who will give the others. Show me the place. That I may choose. Show me, or I will make thee, both Galeor, for thou art such a villain, that thou deservedest all I can do to thee. You can do nothing that shall make me please such a worthless knight. Then Galeor laid hand upon his sword. Show me the place, or I will take off thy head. I will show thee, said he, without shall pay for thy folly, and I shall have my revenge. Herewith he rode before, leaving the straight way. Galeor followed, and by the time they had ridden, the length of a leak, they came to a fortress seated in a pleasant valley. Brave and vironed, about with trees. Here, quoth the squire, is the place. Now let me go. Galeor answered, go thy way, for I little like thy company. You will like what you find here less, said the squire. Wherewith he turned bridle in a way. Then Galeor went to the fortress, which he saw was newly edified, and at the gate he saw an armed knight on horseback, and with him five albertas. And they asked Galeor if it was he who brought their squire there against his will. I know not, quoth he, if he be your squire, but he who led me here was the worst violet that I ever knew. That, said the knight, may be well, but what would you have here? Sir, I am so wounded, and seek for one to give me help. Enter then, said the knight. Galeor went in, and then the albertas attacked him on one side, and the knight on the other. He snatched an axe from one, and turned to the knight and smote him, so that he had no need of a surgeon. Then fell upon the albertas, and so three of them, the other two fled into the castle, and he was following. But his squire cried out, take your arm, sir, for I hear a great stir in the castle. This Galeor did, and the squire took shield and axe from one of the dead men, and said, Sir, I will aid you against the villains, but against a knight I must not lift hand, lest I should lose thereby all title to be knighted. If I find the good knight whom I seek, said Galeor, that shall thou soon be. Presently they saw two other knights, and ten men on foot, and they heard the squire crying out, from one of the windows, kill him, kill him, but save his horse for me. When Galeor heard that, he was greatly enraged, and he fiercely ran to meet the new assailants. Their lances break, but he made him whom he encountered, sure enough from ever bearing arms afterwards. Then, setting hand to sword, advanced himself to the others, and felled him and turned among the albertas. The squire had already slain two, kill them all, said he, let not such traitors live. When the squire of the castle saw this, he ran up a ladder into a high tower, exclaiming, arm yourself, sir, unless you mean to be slain. Then Galeor dismounted, because he could not ride through the portal, and went towards the tower. But before he reached it, there came out a knight, all armed, and his course was brought him. But Galeor caught the bridle and said, knight, thou shall not mount, for I just trust thee. Is it you, quote the knight who have slain my nephews and my people? I know not whom you ask for, but this I can assure you. How I found her the most disloyal and bad-minded people that ever I dealt with her. They whom thou hast slain were better than thou art, and dearly shalt thou pay for them. Then afoot as they were, they began a cruel battle, for the night of the castle was a bright good night and a strong. Yet in the end he could not endure the heavy and hard blows of Galeor, and flying from him under a portal, he thought to leap from a window to the gallery. But with the weight of his arms he fell short, and falling a great depth upon stones he was dashed to pieces. When Galeor saw this he turned away, cursing the castle and its dwellers. But then he heard a voice from one of the rooms, saying, Ah, my lord, for mercy, leave me not here. Open the door then, quote thee. I cannot, sir, I am chained. He then placed foot against the door, so strongly that it flew open. In entering he found a fair lady changed by the neck. She asked him what was become of the lord of the castle and his company. And when she heard how they were all dead, and how they set upon Galeor, who came to have his wound healed, she said, Release me, and I will heal the wound. Presently he broke the chain, and she took two little boxes from a coffer, and other things for his wounds, and they departed from the castle. In the gateway Galeor found the first night whom he had smoked down, who was yet breathing and struggling. He trampled him under his horse's feet, and then rode away. That night they lodged in a forest in the tent of some hunters whom they found. The damsel was a fair damsel, and what passed between them is not to be written. She told him that she was the daughter of Tellois the Fleming, to whom King Wuzwade had given the country of Clara, and of a lady who was his lemon. The lord of that castle had seized her because she would not accept of him for a husband. Where shall I conduct you, said Galeor? For I have far to travel. To the monastery where my mother dwells. So she guided Galeor there, and right gladly was he welcomed, and the more when they heard what feats of arms he had wrought. And there, at the request of the ladies of the convent, Galeor remained.