produced from scanned images of public domain material from the google print project.) the carlovingian coins the full series of the mysteries of the people or history of a proletarian family across the ages by eugene sue _consisting of the following works_: the gold sickle; or, _hena the virgin of the isle of sen_. the brass bell; or, _the chariot of death_. the iron collar; or, _faustine and syomara_. the silver cross; or, _the carpenter of nazareth_. the basque's lark; or, _victoria, the mother of the camps_. the poniard's hilt; or, _karadeucq and ronan_. the branding needle; or, _the monastery of charolles_. the abbatial crosier; or, _bonaik and septimine_. the carlovingian coins; or, _the daughters of charlemagne_. the iron arrow-head; or, _the buckler maiden_. the infant's skull; or, _the end of the world_. the pilgrim's shell; or, _fergan the quarryman_. the iron pincers; or, _mylio and karvel_. the iron trevet; or, _jocelyn the champion_. the executioner's knife; or, _joan of arc_. the pocket bible; or, _christian the printer_. the blacksmith's hammer; or, _the peasant code_. the sword of honor; or, _the foundation of the french republic_. the galley slave's ring; or, _the family lebrenn_. published uniform with this volume by the new york labor news co. 28 city hall place new york city the carlovingian coins or the daughters of charlemagne a tale of the ninth century by eugene sue translated from the original french by daniel de leon new york labor news company. 1908 copyright 1908, by the new york labor news co. index translator's preface. v part i--aix-la-chapelle. chapter. i. amael and vortigern. 3 ii. the courtyard of the palace. 18 iii. in the galleries of the palace. 24 iv. charlemagne. 29 v. the palatine school. 40 vi. the bishop of limburg. 44 vii. to the hunt. 54 viii. the forest of oppenheim. 58 ix. at the mort. 71 x. emperor and hostage. 77 xi. frank and breton. 88 part ii--the conquest of brittany. i. in the black mountains. 107 ii. the breton chief. 112 iii. abbot and breton. 120 iv. the defile of glen-clan. 132 v. the marsh of peulven. 139 vi. the forest of cardik. 146 vii. the moor of kennor. 151 viii. the valley of lokfern. 156 epilogue. 159 translator's preface the age of charlemagne is the watershed of the history of the present era. the rough barbarian flood that poured over western europe reaches in that age a turning point of which charlemagne is eminently the incarnation. the primitive physical features of the barbarian begin to be blunted, or toned down by a new force that has lain latent in him, but that only then begins to step into activity--the spiritual, the intellectual powers. the age of charlemagne is the age of the first conflict between the intellectual and the brute in the principal branches of the races that occupied europe. the conflict raged on a national scale, and it raged in each particular individual. the colossal stature, physical and mental, of charlemagne himself typifies the epoch. brute instincts of the most primitive and savage, intellectual aspirations of the loftiest are intermingled, each contends for supremacy--and alternately wins it, in the monarch, in his court and in his people. _the carlovingian coins; or, the daughters of charlemagne_ is the ninth of the brilliant series of historical novels written by eugene sue under the title, _the mysteries of the people; or, history of a proletarian family across the ages_. the age and its people are portrayed in a charming and chaste narrative, that is fittingly and artistically brought to a close by a veritable epopee--the frankish conquest of brittany, and, as fittingly, serves to introduce the next epopee--the northman's invasion of gaul--dealt with in the following story, _the iron arrow head; or, the buckler maiden_. daniel de leon. new york, may, 1905. part i. aix-la-chapelle chapter i. amael and vortigern. towards the commencement of the month of november of the year 811, a numerous cavalcade was one afternoon wending its way to the city of aix-la-chapelle, the capital of the empire of charles the great--an empire that had been so rapidly increased by rapidly succeeding conquests over germany, saxony, bavaria, bohemia, hungary, italy and spain, that gaul, as formerly during the days of the roman emperors, was again but a province among the vast domains. the ambitious designs of charles martel had been realized. childeric, the last scion of the merovingian dynasty, had been got rid of. martel's descendants took his seat, and now the hammerer's grandson wielded the sceptre of clovis over an immensely wider territory. eight or ten cavalry soldiers rode in advance of the cavalcade. a little apart from the smaller escort, four cavaliers ambled leisurely. two of them wore brilliant armor after the german fashion. one of these was accompanied by a venerable old man of a martial and open countenance. his long beard, snow white as his hair that was half hidden under a fur cap, fell over his chest. he wore a gallic blouse of grey wool, held around his waist by a belt, from which hung a long sword with an iron hilt. his ample hose of rough white fabric reached slightly below his knees and left exposed his tightly laced leather leggings, that ended in his boots whose heels were armed with spurs. the old man was amael, who under the assumed frankish name of berthoald had, eighty years before, saved the life of charles martel at the battle of poitiers against the arabs, had declined the post offered him by charles, as jailer of the last descendant of clovis, and, finally, smitten by conscience, had renounced wealth and dignity under the frankish enslavers of gaul, and returned to his people and country of brittany, or armorica, as the romans named it. amael now touched his hundredth year. his great age and his somewhat portly stature notwithstanding, he still looked full of vigor. he handled with dexterity the black horse that he rode and whose spirit seemed no wise abated by the long road it had traveled. from time to time, amael turned round upon his saddle in order to cast a look of paternal solicitude upon his grandson vortigern, a lad of hardly eighteen years, who was accompanied by the other of the two frankish warriors. the face of vortigern, of exceptional beauty for a man, was framed in long chestnut ringlets, that, escaping from his scarlet coif, tumbled down below a chin that was as dainty as a woman's. his large blue eyes, fringed with lashes black as his bold arched eyebrows, had an air at once ingenuous and resolute. his red lips, shaded by the down of adolescence, revealed at every smile two rows of teeth white as enamel. a slightly aquiline nose, a fresh and pure complexion somewhat tanned by the sun, completed the harmonious make-up of the youth's charming visage. his clothes, made after the fashion of his grandfather's, differed from them only in a touch of elegance that bespoke a mother's hand, tenderly proud of her son's comely appearance. accordingly, the blue blouse of the lad was ornamented around the neck, over the shoulders and at the extremities of the sleeves with embroideries of white wool, while a calfskin belt, from which hung a sword with polished hilt, encircled his supple waist. his linen hose half hid his deerskin leggings, that were tightly laced to his nervy limbs and rejoined his boots, made of tanned skin and equipped with large copper spurs that glistened like gold. although his right arm was held in a scarf of some black material, vortigern handled his horse with his left hand with as much ease as skill. for traveling companion he had a young warrior of agreeable mien, bold and mercurial, alert and frolicsome. the mobility of his face recalled in nothing the stolidity of the german. his name was octave. roman by birth, in appearance and character, his inexhaustible southern wit often succeeded in unwrinkling the brow of his young companion. the latter, however, would soon again relapse into a sort of silent and somber revery. thus for some time absorbed in sadness, he walked his horse slowly, when octave broke in gaily in a tone of friendly reproach: "by bacchus! you still are preoccupied and silent." "i am thinking of my mother," answered the youth, smothering a sigh. "i am thinking of my mother, of my sister and of my country." "come now; you should, on the contrary, chase away, such saddening thoughts. to the devil with sadness. long live joy." "octave, gayness ill beseems a prisoner. i cannot share your light-heartedness." "you are no prisoner, only a hostage. no bond binds you but your own word; prisoners, on the contrary, are led firmly pinioned to the slave market. your grandfather and yourself ride freely, with us for your companions, and we are escorting you, not to a slave market, but to the palace of the emperor charles the great, the mightiest monarch of the whole world. finally, prisoners are disarmed; your grandfather as well as yourself carry your swords." "of what use are our swords now to us?" replied vortigern with painful bitterness. "brittany is vanquished." "such are the chances of war. you bravely did your duty as a soldier. you fought like a demon at the side of your grandfather. he was not wounded, and you only received a lance-thrust. by mars, the valiant god of war, your blows were so heavy in the melee that you should have been hacked to pieces." "we would not then have survived the disgrace of armorica." "there is no disgrace in being overcome when one has defended himself bravely--above all when the forces that one resisted and decimated, were the veteran bands of the great charles." "not one of your emperor's soldiers should have escaped." "not one?" merrily rejoined the young roman. "what, not even myself? not even i, who take such pains to be a pleasant traveling companion, and who tax my eloquence to entertain you? verily, you are not at all grateful!" "octave, i do not hate you personally; i hate your race; they have, without provocation, carried war and desolation into my country." "first of all, my young friend, i am not of the frankish race. i am a roman. gladly do i relinquish to you those gross germans, who are as savage as the bears of their forests. but, let it be said among ourselves, this war against brittany was not without reason. did not you bretons, possessed of the very devil as you are, attack last year and exterminate the frankish garrison posted at vannes?" "and by what right did charles cause our frontiers to be invaded by his troops twenty-five years ago? his whim stood him instead of right." the conversation between vortigern and octave was interrupted by the voice of amael, who, turning in his saddle, called his grandson to him. the latter, anxious to hasten to his grandfather, and also yielding to an impulse of anger that the discussion with the young roman had provoked, brusquely clapped his spurs to the flanks of his charger. the animal, thus suddenly urged, leaped forward so violently that in two or three bounds it would have left amael behind, had not vortigern, restraining his mount with a firm hand, made the animal rear on its haunches. the youth then resumed his walk abreast of his grandfather and the other frankish warrior, who, turning to the old man, remarked: "i do not marvel at the superiority of your breton cavalry, when a lad of the age of your grandson, and despite the wound that must smart him, can handle his horse in such a manner. you yourself, for a centenarian, are as firm in your saddle as the lad himself. horns of the devil!" "the lad was barely five years old when his father and i used to place him on the back of the colts raised on our meadows," answered the old man. the recollection of those peaceful happy days now ended, cast a shadow of sorrow upon amael's face. he remained silent for a moment. thereupon, addressing vortigern, he said: "i called you to inquire whether your wound had ceased smarting." "grandfather, i hardly feel it any longer. if you allow me, i would free my arm of the embarrassing scarf." "no; your wound might open again. no imprudence. remember your mother, and also your sister and her husband, both of whom love you like a brother." "alas! will i never see that mother, that sister, that brother whom i love so dearly?" "patience!" answered amael in an undertone, so as not to be heard by the frankish warrior at his side. "you may see brittany again a good deal sooner than you expect--prudence and patience!" "truly?" inquired the youth impetuously. "oh, grandfather, what happiness!" the old man made a sign to vortigern to control himself, and then proceeded aloud: "i am always afraid lest the fatigue of traveling inflame your wound anew. fortunately, we must be approaching the end of our journey. not so, hildebrad?" he added, turning to the warrior. "before sunset we shall be at aix-la-chapelle," answered the frank. "but for the hill that we are about to ascend, you could see the city at a distance." "return to your companion, my child," said amael; "above all, place your arm back in its scarf, and be careful how you manage your horse. a too-sudden lurch might re-open the wound that is barely closed." the young man obeyed and gently walked his horse back to octave. thanks to the mobility of the impressions of youth, vortigern felt appeased and comforted by the words of his grandfather that had made him look forward to a speedy return to his family and country. the soothing thought was so visibly reflected in his candid features that octave met him with the merry remark: "what a magician that grandfather of yours must be! you rode off preoccupied and fretful, angrily burying your spurs into the flanks of your horse, who, poor animal, had done nothing to excite your wrath. now, behold! you return as placid as a bishop astride of his mule." "the magic of my grandfather has chased away my sadness. you speak truly, octave." "so much the better. i shall now be free, without fear of reviving your chagrin, to give a loose to the increasing joy that i feel at every step." "why does your joy increase at every step, my dear companion?" "because even the dullest horse becomes livelier and more spirited in the measure that he approaches the house where he knows that he will find provender." "octave, i did not know you for such a glutton!" "in that case, my looks are deceptive, because a glutton, that am i--terribly gluttonous of those delicate dainties that are found only at court, and that constitute my provender." "what!" exclaimed vortigern ingenuously. "is that great emperor, whose name fills the world, surrounded by a court where nothing is thought of but dainties and gluttony?" "why, of course," answered octave gravely and hardly able to refrain from laughing outright at the innocence of the young breton. "why, of course. and what is more, more so than any of the counts, of the dukes, of the men of learning, and of the bishops at court, does the emperor himself lust after the dainties that i have in mind. he always keeps a room contiguous to his own full of them. because in the stillness of the night--" "he rises to eat cakes and, perhaps, even sweetmeats!" exclaimed the lad with disdain, while octave, unable longer to contain himself, was laughing in his face. "i can think of nothing more unbecoming than guzzling on the part of one who governs empires!" "what's to be done, vortigern? great princes must be pardoned for some pecadillos. moreover, with them it is a family failing--the daughters of the emperor--" "his daughters also are given to this ugly passion for gormandizing?" "alas! they are no less gluttonous than their father. they have six or seven dainties of their own--most appetizing and most appetized." "oh, fie!" cried vortigern. "fie. have they perhaps, also next to their bed-chambers, whole rooms stocked with dainties?" "calm your legitimate indignation, my boiling-over friend. young girls can not allow themselves quite so much comfort. that's good enough for the emperor charles, who is no longer nimble on his legs. he is getting along in years. he has the gout in his left foot, and his girth is enormous." "that is not to be wondered at. bound is the stomach to protrude with such a gourmand!" "you will understand that being so heavy on his feet, this mighty emperor is not able, like his daughters, to snatch at a stray dainty on the wing, like birdies in an orchard, who nibble lovingly here at a red cherry, there at a blushing apple, yonder at a bunch of gilded grapes. no, no; with his august paunch and his gouty foot, the august charles would be wholly unable to snap the dainties on the wing. the attention due to his empire would lose too much. hence the emperor keeps near at hand, within easy reach, a room full of dainties, where, at night, he finds his provender--" "octave!" exclaimed vortigern, interrupting the young roman with a haughty mien. "i do not wish to be trifled with. at first, i took your words seriously. the laughter that you are hardly able to repress, and that despite yourself breaks out at frequent intervals, shows me that you are trifling with me." "come, my brave lad, do not wax angry. i am not bantering. only that, out of respect for the candor of your age, i have used a figure of speech to tell the truth. in short, the dainty that i, charles, his daughters, and, by venus! everybody at court lusts after more or less greedily is--love!" "love," echoed vortigern, blushing and for the first time dropping his eyes before octave; but as his uneasiness increased, he proceeded to inquire: "but, in order to enjoy love, the daughters of charles are surely married?" "oh, innocence of the golden age! oh, armorican naã¯veness! oh, gallic chastity!" cried octave. but noticing that the young breton frowned at hearing his native land ridiculed, the roman proceeded: "far be it from me to jest about your brave country. i shall tell you without further circumlocution--i shall tell you that charles' daughters are not married; for reasons that he has never cared to explain to anyone, he never has wanted them to have a husband."[a] "out of pride, no doubt!" "oh, oh, on that subject many things are said. the long and short of it is that he does not wish to part with them. he adores them, and, except he goes to war, he always has them near him during his journeys, along with his concubines--or, if you prefer the term, his 'dainties.' the word may be less shocking to your prudery. you must know that after having successively married and discarded his five wives, desiderata, hildegarde, fustrade, himiltrude and luitgarde, the emperor provided himself with an assortment of dainties, from which assortment i shall mention to you incidentally the juicy mathalgarde, the sugary gerswinthe, the tart regina, the toothsome adalinde--not to mention many other saints on this calendar of love. for you must know that the great charles resembles the great solomon not in wisdom only; he resembles him also in his love for _seraglios_, as the arabs call them. but, by the way of the emperor's daughters. listen to a little tale. imma, one of these young princesses, was a charming girl. one fine day she became smitten with charles' archchaplain, named eginhard. an archchaplain being, of course, arch-amorous, imma received eginhard every night secretly in her chamber--to discuss chapel affairs, i surmise. now, then, it so happened that during one winter's night there fell so very much snow that the ground was all covered. a little before dawn, eginhard takes his departure from his lady-love; but just as he is about to climb down from the window--an ordinary route with lovers--he beholds by the light of a superb full moon that the ground is one sheet of white snow. to himself he thinks: 'imma and i are lost! i cannot get out without leaving the imprint of my steps in the snow'--" "and what did he do?" asked vortigern, more and more interested in the story that threw an undefined sense of uneasiness in his heart. "how did the two escape from their perilous plight, the poor lovers!" "imma, a robustious doxy, a girl both of head and resolution, descends by the window, bravely takes the archchaplain on her back, and, without tripping under the beloved burden, crosses a wide courtyard that separates her quarters from one of the corridors of the palace. although weighted down by an archchaplain, imma had such small feet that the traces left by them could not choose but keep suspicion away from eginhard. unfortunately, however, as you will discover when you arrive at aix-la-chapelle, the emperor is possessed of a demon of curiosity, and has had his palace so constructed that, from a kind of terrace, contiguous to his own room and which dominates the rest of the buildings, he is able to discover as from an observatory, all who enter, go out, or cross the open space. now, then, the emperor, who frequently rises at night, saw, thanks to the brilliant moonlight, his daughter crossing the yard with the amorous fardel." "charles' anger must have been terrible!" "yes, terrible for an instant. soon, however, no doubt greatly elated at having procreated a maid who was able to carry an archchaplain on her back, the august emperor pardoned the guilty couple. after that they lived lovingly in peace and joy." "and yet that archchaplain was a priest? what of the sanctity of the clergy!" "ho, ho! my young friend. the emperor's daughters are far from failing in esteem for priests. bertha, another of his daughters, desperately esteems enghilbert, the handsome abbot of st. riquier. fairness, nevertheless, compels me to admit that one of bertha's sisters, named adeltrude, esteemed with no less vehemence count lambert, one of the most intrepid officers of the imperial army. as to little rothailde, another of the emperor's daughters, she did not withhold her lively esteem from romuald, who made his name glorious in our wars against bohemia. i shall not speak of the other princesses. it is fully six months that i have been away from court. i would be afraid to do them injustice. nevertheless, i am free to say that the crosier and the sword have generally contended with each other for the amorous tenderness of the daughters of charles. yet i must except thetralde, the youngest of the set. she is still too much of a novice to esteem any one. she is barely fifteen. she is a flower, or rather, the bud of a flower that is about to blossom. i never have seen anything more charming. when i last departed from the court thetralde gave promise of eclipsing all her sisters and nieces with the sweetness and freshness of her beauty, because, and i had forgotten this detail, my dear friend, the daughters of charles' sons are brought up with his own daughters; and are no less charming than their aunts. you will see them all. your admiration will have but to choose between adelaid, atula, gonarade, bertha or theodora." "what! do all these young girls inhabit the emperor's palace?" "certainly, without counting their servants, their governesses, their chambermaids, their readers, their singers and innumerable other women of their retinue. by venus! my adonis, there are more petticoats to be seen in the imperial palace than cuirasses or priests' gowns. the emperor loves as much to be surrounded by women as by soldiers and abbots, without forgetting the learned men, the rhetoricians, the dialecticians, the instructors, the peripatetic pedagogues and the grammarians. the great charles, as you must know, is as passionately fond of grammar as of love, war, the chase, or choir chants. in his grammarian's ardor, the emperor invents words--" "what!" "just as i am telling you. for instance: how do you call in the gallic tongue the month in which we now are?" "the month of november." "so do we italians, barbarians that we are! but the emperor has changed all that by virtue of his own sovereign and grammatical will. his peoples, provided they can obey him without the words strangling them, are to say, instead of november, 'herbismanoth'; instead of october, windumnermanoth.'" "octave, you are trying to make merry at my expense." "instead of march, 'lenzhimanoth'; instead of may--" "enough! enough! for pity's sake!" cried vortigern. "those barbarous names make me shiver. what! can there be throats in existence able to articulate such sounds?" "my young friend, frankish throats are capable of everything. i warn you, prepare your ears for the most uncouth concert of raucous, guttural, savage words that you ever heard, unless you have ever heard frogs croaking, tom-cats squalling, bulls bellowing, asses braying, stags belling and wolves howling--all at once! excepting the emperor himself and his family, who can somewhat handle the roman and the gallic languages, the only two languages, in short, that are human, you will hear nothing spoken but frankish at that german court where everything is german, that is to say, barbarous; the language, the customs, the manners, the meals, the dress. in short, aix-la-chapelle is no longer in gaul. it now lies in germany absolutely." "and yet charles reigns over gaul!--is not that enough of a disgrace for my country? the emperor who governs us by no right other than conquest, is surrounded with a frankish court, and with officers and generals of the same stock, who do not deign even to speak our tongue. shame and disgrace to us!" "there you are at it again, plunging anew into sadness. vortigern! by bacchus! why do you not imitate my philosophy of indifference? does, perchance, my race not descend from that haughty roman stock that made the world to tremble only a few centuries ago? have i not seen the throne of the caesars occupied by hypocritical, ambitious, greedy and debauched popes, with their black-gowned and tonsured militia? have not the descendants of our haughty roman emperors gone in their imbecile idleness to vegetate in constantinople, where they still indulge the dreams of universal empire? have not the catholic priests chased from their olympus the charmful deities of our fathers? have they not torn down, mutilated and ravished the temples, statues, altars--the master-works of the divine art of rome and greece? go to, vortigern, and follow my example! instead of fretting over a ship-wrecked past, let's drink and forget! let our fair mistresses be our saints, and their couches our altars! let our eucharist be a flower-decked cup, and for liturgy, let's sing the amorous couplets of tibullus, of ovid, and of horace. yes, indeed, and take my advice: let's drink, love and enjoy life! that's truly to live! you will never again come across such an opportunity. the gods of joy are sending you to the emperor's court." "what do you mean?" queried vortigern almost mechanically, and feeling his inexperienced sense, though not perverted, yet dazzled by the facile and sensuous philosophy of octave. "what would you have one become in the midst of that court so strange to me, who have been brought up in our rustic brittany?" "child that you are! a swarm of beautiful eyes will be focused upon you!" "octave, you are mocking again. am i to be taken notice of? i, a field laborer's son? i, a poor breton prisoner on parole?" "and do you think your reputation for a bedevilled breton goes for nothing? more than once have i heard told of the furious curiosity with which, about twenty-five years ago, the hostages taken to aix-la-chapelle, at the time of the first war against your country, inspired everyone at court. the most charming women wished to behold those indomitable bretons whom only the great charles had been able to vanquish. their haughty and rude mien, the interest centred in their defeat, everything, down to their strange costumes, drew upon them the looks and the sympathy of the women, who, in germany, are ever strongly prone to love. the fascinating enthusiasts of then are now become mothers and grandfathers. but, happily, they have daughters and grand-daughters who are fully able to appreciate you. i can assure you that i, who know the court and its ways, had i only your youth, your good looks, your wound, your graceful horsemanship and your renown as a breton, would guarantee myself the lover of all those beauties, and that within a week." chapter ii. the courtyard of the palace. the conversation between the young roman and vortigern was at this point interrupted by amael, who, turning back to his grandson and extending his arm towards the horizon said to him: "look yonder, my child; that is the queen of the cities of the empire of charles the great--the city of aix-la-chapelle." vortigern hastened to join his grandfather, whose eyes he now, perhaps for the first time, sought to avoid with not a little embarrassment. octave's words sounded wrong on his ears, even dangerous; and he reproached himself for having listened to them with some pleasure. having reached amael, vortigern cast his eyes in the direction pointed out by the old man, and saw at still a great distance an imposing mass of buildings, close to which rose the high steeple of a basilica. presently, he distinguished the roofs and terraces of a cluster of houses dimly visible through the evening mist and stretching out along the horizon. it was the emperor's palace and the basilica of aix-la-chapelle. vortigern contemplated with curiosity the, to him, new panorama, while hildebrad, who had cantered ahead to make some inquiries from a cartman coming from the city, now returned to the bretons, saying: "the emperor is hourly expected at the palace. the forerunners have announced his approach. he is coming from a journey in the north of gaul. let's hasten to ride in ahead of him so that we may salute him on his arrival." the riders quickened their horses' steps, and before sunset they were entering the outer court of the palace--a vast space surrounded by many lodges of variously shaped roofs and architecture, and furnished with innumerable windows. agreeable to a unique plan, with many of these structures the ground floor was wholly open and had the appearance of a shed whose massive stone pillars supported the masonry of the upper tiers of floors. a crowd of subaltern officers, of servants, and slaves of the palace, lived and lodged under these sheds, open to the four winds of heaven and heated in winter by means of large furnaces that were kept lighted night and day. this bizarre architecture was conceived by the ingenuity of the emperor. it enabled him, from his observatory, to see with all the greater ease all that happened in these wall-less apartments. several long corridors, profusely ornamented with richly sculptured columns and porticos after the fashion of rome, connected with another set of buildings. a square pavilion, raised considerably above ground, dominated the system of structures. octave called vortigern's attention to a sort of balcony located in front of the pavilion. it was the emperor's observatory. everywhere a general stir announced the approaching arrival of charles. clerks, soldiers, women, officers, rhetoricians, monks and slaves crossed one another in great haste, while several bishops, anxious to present the first homages to the emperor, were speeding towards the peristyle of the palace. so instantly was the emperor expected and such was the hurly at the event, that when the cavalcade, of which vortigern and his grandfather were a part, entered the court, several people, deceived by the martial appearance of the troupe, began to cry: "the emperor!" "here is the emperor's escort!" the cry flew from mouth to mouth, and in an instant the spacious court was filled with a compact mass of servitors and pursuivants, through which the escort of the two bretons was hardly able to break its way in order to reach a place near the principal portico. hildebrad had chosen the spot in order to be among the first to meet charles and to present to him the hostages whom he brought from brittany. the crowd discovered its mistake in acclaiming the emperor, but the false rumor had penetrated the palace and immediately the concubines of charles, his daughters and grand-daughters, their servants and attendants, rushed out and grouped themselves on a spacious terrace above the portico, near which the two bretons, together with their escort, had taken their stand. "raise your eyes, vortigern," octave said to his companion. "look and see what a bevy of beauties the emperor's palace contains." blushing, the young breton glanced towards the terrace and remained struck with astonishment at the sight of some twenty-five or thirty women, all of whom were either daughters or grand-daughters of charles, together with his concubines. they were clad in the frankish fashion, and presented the most seductive variety of faces, color of hair, shapes and beauty imaginable. there were among them brunettes and blondes, women of reddish and of auburn hair, some tall, others stout, and yet others thin and slender. it was a complete display of germanic feminine types--from the tender maid up to the stately matron of forty years. the eyes of vortigern fell with preference upon a girl of not more than fifteen, clad in a tunic of pale green embroidered with silver. nothing sweeter could be imagined than her rosy and fresh face crowned and set off by long and thick strands of blonde hair; her delicate neck, white as a swan's, seemed to undulate under the weight of her magnificent head of hair. another maid of about twenty years--a pronounced brunette, robust, with challenging eyes, black hair, and clad in a tunic of orange--leaned on the balustrade, supporting her chin in one hand, close to the younger blonde, on whose shoulders she familiarly rested her right arm. each held in her hand a nose-gay of rosemary, whose fragrance they inhaled from time to time, all the while conversing in a low voice and contemplating the group of riders with increasing curiosity. they had learned that the escort was not the emperor's, but that it brought the breton hostages. "give thanks to my friendship, vortigern," octave whispered to the lad. "i am going to place you in evidence, and to display you at your true worth." saying this, octave covertly gave vortigern's horse such a sharp touch of his whip under the animal's belly that, had the breton been less of a horseman, he had been thrown by the violence of the bound made by his mount. thus unexpectedly stung, the animal reared, poised himself dangerously for a moment and then leaped so high that vortigern's coif grazed the bottom of the terrace where the group of women stood. the blonde young girl grew pale with terror, and hiding her face in her hands, exclaimed: "unhappy lad! he is killed! poor young man!" yielding to the impulse of his age as well as to a sense of pride at finding himself the object of the attention of the crowd that was gathered around him, vortigern severely chastised his horse, whose leaps and bounds threatened to become dangerous. but the lad, preserving his presence of mind and drawing upon his skill, displayed so much grace and vigor in the struggle, despite his right arm's being held in the scarf, that the crowd wildly clapped its hands and cried: "glory to the breton!" "honor to the breton!" two bouquets of rosemary fell, at that moment, at the feet of the horse that, brought at last under control, champed his bit and pawed the ground with his hoofs. vortigern raised his head towards the terrace whence the bouquets had just been thrown at him, when a formidable din arose from a distance, followed immediately by the cry, echoed and re-echoed: "the emperor!" "the emperor!" at the announcement, all the women forthwith left the balcony to descend and receive the monarch under the portico of the palace. while the crowd swayed back and forward, crying: "long live charles!" "long live charles the great!" the grandson of amael saw a troop of riders approaching at a gallop. they might have been taken for equestrian statues of iron. mounted upon chargers caparisoned in iron, their own iron casques hid their faces; cuirassed in iron and gloved in iron, they wore leggings of iron, and bucklers of the same metal. the last rays of the westering sun shone from the points of their iron lances. in short, nothing was heard but the clash of iron. at the head of these cavaliers, whom he preceded, and, like them, cased in iron from head to foot, rode a man of colossal stature. hardly arrived before the principal portico, he alighted slowly from his horse and ran limping towards the group of women who there awaited him, calling out to them, as he ran, in a little shrill and squeaky voice that contrasted strangely with his enormous build: "good-day, little ones. good-day, dear daughters. good-day to all of you, my darlings." without giving any heed to the cheers of the crowd and to the respectful salutations of the bishops and other dignitaries, who hurried to meet him, the emperor charles, that giant in iron, disappeared within the palace, followed by his feminine cohort. chapter iii. in the galleries of the palace. amael and his grandson were lodged in one of the upper chambers of the palace, whither they were conducted by hildebrad to rest after the fatigue of their recent journey. supper was served to them and they were left to retire for the night. at break of day the next morning, octave knocked at the door of the two bretons and informed them that the emperor wished to see them. the roman urged vortigern to clothe himself at his best. the breton lad had not much to choose from. he had with him only two suits of clothes, the one he wore on the journey, another, green of color and embroidered with orange wool. this notwithstanding, thanks to the fresh and new clothes, in which the colors were harmoniously blended and which enhanced the attractiveness of the charming face as well as the gracefulness of his supple stature, vortigern seemed to the critical eyes of octave worthy of making an honorable appearance before the mightiest emperor in the world. the centenarian could not restrain a smile at hearing the praises bestowed upon the figure of his grandson by the young roman, who advised him to draw tighter the belt of his sword, claiming that, if one's figure is good, it was but right to exhibit it. while giving his advices to vortigern in his wonted good humor, octave whispered in his friend's ear: "did you notice yesterday the nose-gays that fell at the feet of your horse? did you notice who the girls were from whom the bouquets came?" "i think i did," stammered the young breton in answer, and he blushed to the roots of his hair, while despite himself, his thoughts flew to the charming young blonde. "it seems to me," he added, "that i saw the two bouquets fall." "oh, it seems to you, hypocrite! nevertheless, it was my whip that brought down the two bouquets! and do you know what imperial hands it was that threw them down in homage to your address and courage?" "were the bouquets thrown down by imperial hands?" "yes, indeed, seeing that thetralde, the timid blonde child and hildrude, the tall and bold brunette, are both daughters of charles. one of them was dressed in a green robe of the color of your blouse, the other in orange of the color of your embroidery. by venus! are you not a favored mortal? two conquests at one clap!" engaged at the other end of the chamber, amael did not overhear the words of octave that were turning vortigern's face as scarlet as the color of his chaperon's cloak. the preparations for the presentation being concluded, the two hostages followed their guide to appear before the emperor. after crossing an infinite number of passages and mounting and descending an equal number of stairs, in all of which they encountered more women than men, the number of women lodged in the imperial palace being prodigious, the bretons were led through vast halls. to describe the sumptuous magnificence of these galleries would be no less impossible than to enumerate the pictures with which their halls were ornamented. artisans, brought from constantinople, where, at the time, the school of byzantine painting flourished, had covered the walls with gigantic designs. in one place the conquests of cyrus over the persians were displayed; at another, the atrocities of the tyrant phalaris, witnessing the agonies of his victims, who were led to be burned alive in a brass caldron red with heat; at still another place, the founding of rome by romulus and remus was reproduced; the conquests of alexander and hannibal, and many other heroic subjects. one of the galleries of the palace was consecrated wholly to the battles of charles martel. he was seen triumphing over saxons and arabs, who, chained at his feet, implored his clemency. so striking was the resemblance that while crossing the hall amael cried out: "it is he! those are his features! that was his bearing! he lives again! it is charles!" "one would think you recognize an old acquaintance," observed the young roman, smiling. "are you renewing your acquaintance with charles martel?" "octave," answered the old man melancholically, "i am one hundred years old--i fought at the battle of poitiers against the arabs." "among the troops of charles martel?" "i saved his life," answered amael, contemplating the gigantic picture; and speaking to himself, he proceeded with a sigh: "oh, how many recollections, sweet and sad, do not those days bring back to me! my beloved mother, my sweet septimine!" octave regarded the old man with increasing astonishment, but, suddenly collecting himself, he grew pensive and hastened his steps, followed by the two hostages. dazzled by the sights before him vortigern examined with the curiosity of his age the riches of all kinds that were heaped up all around him. he could not refrain from stopping before two objects that attracted his attention above all others. the first was a piece of furniture of precious wood enriched with gilt mouldings. pipes of copper, brass and tin, of different thicknesses rose above each other in tiers on one side of the wooden structure. "octave," asked the young breton, "what kind of furniture is this?" "it is a greek organ that was recently sent to charles by the emperor of constantinople. the instrument is truly marvelous. with the aid of brass vessels and of bellows made of ox-hides, which are concealed from view, the air enters these tubes, and, when they are played upon, one time you think you hear the rumbling of thunder, another time, the gentle notes of the lyre or of cymbals. but look yonder, near that large table of massive gold where the city of constantinople is drawn in relief, there you see no less ingenious an object. it is a persian clock, sent to the emperor only four years ago by abdhallah, the king of persia." saying this, octave pointed out to the young breton and his grandfather, who became no less interested than vortigern himself, a large time-piece of gilt bronze. figures denoting the twelve hours surrounded the dial, which was placed in the centre of a miniature palace made of bronze, and likewise gilt. twelve gates built in arcades were seen at the foot of the monumental imitation. "when the hour strikes," octave explained to the bretons, "a certain number of brass balls, equal in number to the hour, drop upon a little cymbal. at the same moment, these gates fly open, as many of them as the corresponding hour, and out of each a cavalier, armed with lance and shield, rides forth. if it strikes one, two or three o'clock, one, two or three gates open, the cavaliers ride out, salute with their lances, return within, and the gates close upon them." "this is truly a marvelous contrivance!" exclaimed amael. "and are the names of the men known who fashioned these prodigies around us, these magnificent paintings, that gold table where a whole city is reproduced in relief, this organ, this clock, in short, all these marvels! surely their authors must have been glorified!" "by bacchus, amael, your question is droll," answered octave smiling. "who cares for the names of the obscure slaves who have produced these articles?" "but the names of clovis, of brunhild, of clotaire, of charles martel will survive the ages!" murmured the centenarian bitterly to himself, while the young roman remarked to vortigern: "let us hurry; the emperor is waiting for us. it will take whole days, months and years to admire in detail the treasures that this palace is full of. it is the favorite resort of the emperor. and yet, as much as his residence at aix-la-chapelle, he loves his old castle of heristal, the cradle of his mighty stock of mayors of the palace, where he has heaped miracles of art." chapter iv. charlemagne. following their guide, the two hostages left the sumptuous and vast galleries, and ascended, closely behind octave, a spiral staircase that led to the private apartment of the emperor, the apartment around which wound the balcony that served as observatory to charles. two richly dressed chamberlains stood in the outer vestibule. "stay for me here," octave said to the bretons; "i shall notify the emperor that you await his pleasure, and learn whether he wishes to receive you at this moment." despite his race and family hatred for the frankish kings or emperors, the conquerors and oppressors of gaul, vortigern experienced a thrill of emotion at the thought of finding himself face to face with the mighty charles, the sovereign of almost all europe. this first emotion was speedily joined by a second--that mighty emperor was the father of thetralde, the entrancing maid, who, the evening before, had thrown her bouquet to the youth. vortigern's thoughts never a moment fell upon the brunette hildrude. an instant later octave reappeared and beckoned to amael and his grandson to step in, while in an undertone he warned them: "crook your knees low before the emperor; it is the custom." the centenarian cast a look at vortigern with a negative sign of the head. the youth understood, and the bretons stepped into the bed-chamber of charles, whom they found in the company of his favorite eginhard, the archchaplain whom imma had one night bravely carried on her back. a servitor of the imperial chamber awaited the orders of his master. when the two hostages entered the room, the monarch, whose stature, though now unarmed, preserved its colossal dimensions, was seated on the edge of his couch clad only in a shirt and hose that set off the pre-eminence of his paunch. he had just put on one shoe and held the other in his hand. his hair was almost white, his eyes were large and sparkling, his nose was long, his neck short and thick like a bull's. his physiognomy, of an open cast and instinct with joviality, recalled the features of his grandfather, charles martel. at the sight of the two bretons the emperor rose from the edge of the couch, and keeping his one shoe in his hand, took two steps forward, limping on his left foot. as he thus approached amael he seemed a prey to a concealed emotion somewhat mingled with a lively curiosity. "old man!" cried out charles in his shrill voice that contrasted so singularly with his giant stature, "octave tells me you fought under charles martel, my grandfather, nearly eighty years ago, and that you saved his life at the battle of poitiers." "it is true," and carrying his hand to his forehead where the traces of a deep wound were still visible, the aged breton added: "i received this wound at the battle of poitiers." the emperor sat down again on the edge of his bed, put on the other shoe and said to his archchaplain: "eginhard, you who compiled in your chronicle the history and acts of my grandfather, you whose memory is ever faithful, do you remember ever to have heard told what the old man says?" eginhard remained thoughtful for a moment, and then answered slowly: "i remember to have read in some parchment scrolls, inscribed by the hand of the glorious charles and now preserved in your august archives, that, indeed, at the battle of poitiers"--but interrupting himself and turning to the centenarian he asked: "your name? how are you called?" "amael is my name." the archchaplain reflected for a moment, and shaking his head observed: "while i can not now recall it, that was not the name of the warrior who saved the life of charles martel at the battle of poitiers--it was a frankish name, it is not the name which you mentioned." "that name," rejoined the aged amael, "was berthoald." "yes!" put in eginhard quickly. "that is the name--berthoald. and in a few lines written in his own hand, the glorious charles martel commended the said berthoald to his children; he wrote that he owed him his life and recommended him to their gratitude if he ever should turn to them." during the exchange of these words between the aged breton and the archchaplain, the emperor had continued and finished his toilet with the aid of his servitor of the chamber. his costume, the old frankish costume to which charles remained faithful, consisted in the first place of a pair of leggings made of thick linen material closely fastened to the nether limbs by means of red wool bandelets that wound criss-cross from below upwards; next of a tunic of frisian cloth, sapphire-blue, and held together by a silk belt. in the winter and the fall of the year the emperor also wore over his shoulders a heavy and large otter or lamb-skin coat. thus clad, charles sat down in a large armchair placed near a curtain that was meant to conceal one of the doors that opened upon the balcony which served him for observatory. at a sign from charles the servitor stepped out of the chamber. left alone with eginhard, vortigern, amael and octave, charles said to the elder breton: "old man, if i understood my chaplain correctly, a frank named berthoald saved my grandfather's life. how does it happen that the said berthoald and you are the same personage?" "when fifteen years of age, driven by the spirit of adventure, i ran away from my family of the gallic race, and then located in burgundy. after many untoward events, i joined a band of determined men. i then was twenty years of age. i took a frankish name and claimed to be of that race in order to secure the protection of charles martel.[b] to the end of interesting him all the more in my lot i offered him my own sword and the swords of all my men, just a few days before the battle of poitiers. at that battle i saved his life. after that, loaded with his favors, i fought under his orders five years longer." "and what happened then?" "then--ashamed of my imposition, and still more ashamed of fighting on the side of the franks, i left charles martel to return into brittany, the cradle of my family. there i became a field laborer." "by the cape of st. martin, you then turned rebel!" exclaimed the emperor in his squeaky voice, which then assumed the tone of a penetrating treble. "i now see the wisdom of those who chose you for an hostage, you, the instigator and the soul of the uprisings and even wars that broke out in brittany during the reign of pepin, my father, and even under my own reign, when your devil-possessed countrymen decimated my veteran bands!" "i fought as well as i could in our wars." "traitor! loaded with favors by my grandfather, yet were you not afraid to rise in arms against his son and me?" "i felt remorse for only one thing--and that was to have merited the favor of your grandfather. i shall ever reproach myself for having fought on his side instead of against him." "old man," cried the emperor, purple with rage, "you have even more audacity than years!" "charles--let us stop here. you look upon yourself as the sovereign of gaul. we bretons do not recognize your claims. these claims you hold, like all other conquerors, from force. to you might means right--" "i hold them from god!" again cried the emperor, this time stamping the floor with his foot and breaking in upon amael. "yes! i hold my rights over gaul from god, and from my good sword." "from your sword, from violence, yes, indeed. from god, not at all. god does not consecrate theft, whether a purse or an empire be involved. clovis captured gaul. your father and grandfather plundered of his crown the last scion of that clovis. little does that matter to us, bretons, who refuse to obey either the stock of clovis or that of charles martel. you dispose over an innumerable army; already have you ravished and vanquished brittany. you may ravage and vanquish her over again--but subjugate her, never. and now, charles, i have spoken. you shall hear not another word from me on that subject. i am your prisoner, your hostage. dispose of me." the emperor, who more than once was on the point of allowing his indignation to break loose, turned to eginhard and, after a moment of silence, said to him in a calm voice: "you, who are engaged in writing the history and deeds of charles, the august emperor of gaul, caesar of germany, patrician of rome, protector of the suevians, the bulgarians and the hungarians, i command you to write down that an old man held to charles a language of unheard-of audacity, and that charles could not prevent himself from esteeming the frankness and the courage of the man who had thus spoken to him." and suddenly changing his tone, the emperor, whose features, for a moment stern in anger, now assumed an expression of joviality shaded with shrewdness, said to amael: "so, then, breton seigneurs of armorica, whatever i may do, you want none of me at any price for your emperor. do you so much as know me?" "charles, we know you in brittany by the unjust wars that your father and yourself have waged against us." "so that, to you, gentlemen of armorica, charles is only a man of conquest, of violence, and of battle?" "yes, you reign only through terror." "well, then, follow me. i may perhaps cause you to change your mind," said the emperor after a moment's reflection. he rose, took his cane and put on his cap. his eyes then fell upon vortigern, whom, standing silently at a distance, he had not noticed before. "who is that young and handsome lad?" he asked. "my grandson." "octave," the emperor remarked, turning to the young roman, "this is rather a young hostage." "august prince, this lad was chosen for several reasons. his sister married morvan, a common field laborer, but one of the most intrepid of the breton chieftains. during this last war he commanded the cavalry." "and why, then, was not that morvan brought here? that would have been an excellent hostage." "august prince, in order to bring him we would have first had to catch him. although severely wounded, morvan, thanks to his heroine of a wife, succeeded in making his escape with her. it has been impossible to reach them in the inaccessible mountains whither they both fled. for that reason two other chiefs and influential men of the tribe were chosen for hostages; we left them on the road on account of their wounds, and proceeded only with this old man, who was the soul of the last wars, and also this youth, who, through his family connections, is related to one of the most dangerous chieftains of armorica. i must admit that in taking him, we yielded also to the prayers of his mother. she was very anxious that he should accompany his grandfather on this long journey, which is very trying to a centenarian." "and you," resumed the emperor, addressing vortigern, whom, during the account given by octave, he had been examining with attention and interest, "no doubt also hate inveterately that charles, the conqueror and devastator?" "the emperor charles has white hair; i am only eighteen years old," retorted the young breton, blushing. "i can not answer." "old man," observed charles, visibly affected by the lad's self-respecting yet becoming modesty, "the mother of your grandson must be a happy woman. but coming to think of it, my lad, was it not you who yesterday evening, shortly before my arrival, came near breaking your neck with a fall from your horse?" "i!" cried vortigern, blushing with pride; "i, fall from my horse! who dared to say so!" "oh! oh! my lad. you are red up to your ears," the emperor exclaimed, laughing aloud. "but, never mind. be tranquil. i do not mean to wound your pride of horsemanship. far from it. before i saw you to-day my ears have rung with the interminable praises of your gracefulness and daring on horseback. my dear daughters, especially little thetralde and the tall hildrude, told me at least ten times at supper that they had seen a savage young breton, although wounded in one arm, manage his horse like the most skilful of my equerries." "if i deserve any praise, it must be addressed to my grandfather," modestly answered vortigern. "it was he who taught me to ride on horseback." "i like that answer, my lad. it shows your modesty and a proper respect for your elders. are you lettered? can you read and write?" "yes, thanks to the instruction of my mother." "can you sing mass in the choir?" "i!" cried vortigern in great astonishment. "i sing mass! no, no, by hesus! we do not sing mass in my country." "there they are, the breton pagans!" exclaimed charles. "oh, my bishops are right, they are a devil-possessed people, those folks of armorica. what a pity that so handsome and so modest a lad should not be able to sing mass in the choir." saying this, the emperor pulled his thick cap close over his head and leaning heavily on his cane, said to the aged breton: "come, follow me, seigneur breton. ah, you only know of charles the fighter; i shall now make you acquainted with another charles whom you do not yet know. come, follow me." limping, and leaning on his cane, the emperor moved towards the door, making a sign to the others to follow; but stopping short at the threshold, he turned to octave: "you, go to hugh, my master of the hounds, and notify him that i shall hunt deer in the forest of oppenheim. let him send there the hounds, horses and all other equipments of the chase." "august prince, your orders will be executed." "you will also say to the grand nomenclator of my table that i may take dinner in the pavilion of the forest, especially if the hunt lasts long. my suite will dine there also. let the repast be sumptuous. you will tell the nomenclator that my taste has not changed. a good large joint of roast venison, served piping hot, is now, as ever, my favorite treat." the young roman again bowed low; charles stepped out first from the chamber. he was followed by eginhard, then by amael. as vortigern was about to follow his grandfather, he was retained for an instant by octave, who, approaching his mouth to the lad's ear, whispered to him: "i shall carry to the apartments of the emperor's daughters the news that he intends to hunt to-day. by venus! the mother of love has you under her protecting wings, my young breton." the lad blushed anew, and was about to answer the roman when he heard amael's voice calling out to him: "come, my child, the emperor wishes to lean on your arm in order to descend the stairs and walk through the palace." more and more disturbed in mind, vortigern stepped towards charles as the latter was saying to the chamberlains: "no, nobody is to accompany me except the two bretons and eginhard;" and nodding to the lad he proceeded: "your arm will be a better support to me than my cane; these stairs are steep; step carefully." supported by vortigern's arm the emperor slowly descended the steps of a staircase that ran out at one of the porticos of an interior courtyard. when the bottom was reached charles dropped the young man's arm, and resuming his cane, said: "you stepped cleverly; you are a good guide. what a pity that you do not know how to sing mass in the choir!" while thus chattering, charles followed a gallery that ran along the courtyard. the men who accompanied him marched a few steps behind. presently the emperor noticed a slave crossing the courtyard with a large hamper on his shoulders. "halloa! you, there, with the basket!" the emperor called out in his piercing voice. "you, there, with the basket! come here! what have you in that basket?" "eggs, seigneur." "where are you taking them to?" "to the kitchen of the august emperor." "where do those eggs come from?" "from the muhlsheim farm, seigneur." "from the muhlsheim farm?" the emperor repeated thoughtfully, and almost immediately added: "there must be three hundred and twenty-five eggs in that basket. are there not?" "yes, seigneur; that's the exact rent brought in every month from the farm." "you can go--and be careful you do not break the eggs." the emperor stopped for a moment, leaned heavily upon his cane, and turning to amael, called out to him: "halloa, seigneur breton, come here, draw near me." amael obeyed, and the emperor resuming his walk proceeded to say: "charles the fighter, the conqueror, is at least a good husbander--does it not strike you that way? he knows to an egg how many are laid by the hens on his farms. if you ever return to brittany, you must not fail to narrate the incident to the housekeepers of your country." "if i ever again see my country, i shall tell the truth of what i have seen." chapter v. the palatine school. thus chatting, the emperor charles the great arrived before a door that opened on the gallery. he knocked with his cane, and a clerk dressed in black opened. struck with surprise, the clerk bent the knee and cried: "the emperor!" and as he seemed to be about to rush to the door of a contiguous hall, the emperor ordered him to stop: "do not budge! master clement is giving his lessons, is he?" "yes, my august prince!" "remain where you are," and addressing amael: "seigneur breton, you shall now visit a school that i have founded. it is under the direction of master clement, a famous teacher, whom i have summoned from scotland. the sons of the principal seigneurs of my court come here, in obedience to my orders, to study at this school, together with the poorest of my attendants." "this is well done, charles--i congratulate you on that!" "and yet it is charles the fighter that has done this good thing--let us go in;" and turning to vortigern: "well, my young man, you who cannot sing mass, open your eyes and ears at their widest; you are about to see pupils of your own age, and of all conditions." the palatine school, directed by the scotchman clement, into whose precincts the two bretons followed the emperor, held about two hundred pupils. all rose at their benches at the sight of charles, but he motioned to them to resume their seats, saying: "be seated, my boys; i prefer to see you with your noses in your books, than in air, under the pretext of respect for me." and seeing that master clement, the director of the school, was himself about to descend from his high desk, charles cried out to him: "remain on your throne of knowledge, my worthy master; here i am only one of your subjects. i only wanted to cast a glance over the work of these boys, and to learn from you whether they have made any progress during my absence. let the boys come forward, one by one, with the copy-books in which to-day's work is being done." the emperor prided himself not a little on his literacy. he sat down on a stool near the chair of master clement, and carefully examined the copy-books brought to him. it appeared that the pupils who were the sons of noble or rich parents, exhibited to the emperor mediocre, or even poor work, while, on the other hand, the poorer pupils, or those whose parents were of lower rank, exhibited such excellent work that charles, turning to amael, said: "if you were as proficient in letters as myself, seigneur breton, you would be able to appreciate, as i do, these manuscripts that i have just been looking over. the sweetest flavor of science is exhaled by these writings." thereupon addressing the scholars who had distinguished themselves, the emperor said impressively: "i give you great praise, my children, for the zeal you display in carrying out my wishes; strive after perfection, and i shall endow you with rich bishoprics and magnificent abbeys." the emperor stopped and turned towards the lazy noblemen's sons and the sons of the idle rich; his brow puckered, and casting upon them an angry look, he cried out: "as to you, the sons of my empire's principal men, as to you, dainty and prim lads, who, resting upon your birth and fortune, have neglected my orders and your studies, preferring play and idleness--as to you," the emperor proceeded in a voice of ever heightening anger, and smiting the table with his cane, "as to you, look for admiration from other quarters than mine. i care nothing for your birth and your fortune! listen to my words and keep them firm in your minds: if you do not hasten to make amends for your negligence by constant application, you will never receive aught from me!" the rich idlers dropped their eyes all of a tremble. the emperor rose and said to a young clerk, named bernard, barely twenty years of age, the excellence of whose work had attracted charles' attention: "and you, my lad, you may now follow me. i appoint you from to-day a clerk in my chapel, nor will the evidence of my protection end there." the emperor looked satisfied with himself. with a complaisant air he turned to amael: "well now, seigneur breton, you have seen charles the fighter, emulating in his humble capacity of man, the acts of our lord god when on earth. he separates the wheat from the chaff, he places the just at his right, the wicked at his left. if you ever return to brittany, you will tell the school-masters of your country that charles is not altogether a bad superintendent of the schools that he has founded." "i shall say, charles, that i saw you officiating in the midst of the pupils with wisdom, justice, and kindness." "i wish letters and science to shed splendor upon my reign. were you less of a barbarian, i would have you assist at a sitting of our academy. we there assume the illustrious names of antiquity. eginhard is called 'homer,' clement 'horace,' and i 'king david.' these immortal names fit us as giants' armors do pigmies. but, at least, we do honor, at our best, to those geniuses. now, however," said the emperor, rising and breaking off the thread of his discourse on his academy, "let us, like good catholics, proceed to church, and hear mass upon our knees." chapter vi. the bishop of limburg. preceding his suite, that consisted of eginhard, amael, vortigern and the newly-created clerk bernard, the emperor left the school-room and hobbled his way along a winding gallery. encountering at one of the sharp and rather dark turns a young and handsome female slave, charles addressed her with the same familiarity that he ever used towards the innumerable women of all conditions that stocked the palace. the emperor chucked her under the chin, put his arm around her waist, and was about to carry his libertine freedom even further when, recollecting that, despite the darkness of the spot, he might be seen by the men in his suite, he motioned to the female slave that she withdraw, and laughing, observed to amael: "charles likes to show himself accessible to his subjects." "and above all to the female ones," retorted the aged breton. "but i know that the priest's holy-water sprinkler will readily absolve you of all your sins." "oh, the pagan of a breton; the pagan of a breton!" murmured the emperor as he hobbled along and presently entered the basilica of aix-la-chapelle, contiguous to the palace. vortigern and his grandfather were both dazzled by the indescribable magnificence of the temple, where all the attendants at the imperial palace were now gathered. at a distance vortigern discerned, seated near the choir and among the numerous concubines of charles, the emperor's daughters and grand-daughters, clad in brilliant apparel, with the blonde and charming thetralde close to her sister hildrude. the emperor took his accustomed seat at the chanter's desk among the sumptuously dressed choristers. one of these respectfully offered the emperor an ebony baton, with which he beat time and gave the signal for the several chants in the liturgy. a little before the end of each stanza charles, by way of signal, would raise his shrill voice and emit a gutteral cry, so strange and weird, that, on one of these occasions, vortigern, whose eyes had accidentally encountered the large blue eyes of thetralde obstinately fixed upon him, could hardly keep from laughing outright. so ridiculous was the figure cut by the emperor, that despite the imposing appearance of the ceremony and despite the embarrassment into which the glances of thetralde threw him, the youth's sense of decorum was severely taxed. the mass being over, charles said to amael: "well, now, seigneur breton, admit that, at a pinch, however much of a fighter i may be, i would make a passable clerk and a good chaunter." "i am not skilled in such matters. yet i am free to tell you that, as a singer, the cries you uttered were frequently more discordant than those of the sea-gulls along our brittany beach. moreover, to me it looks as if the head of an empire should have better things to do than to sing mass." "you will ever remain a barbarian and an idolater," cried the emperor, stepping out of the basilica. at that moment, and still under the portico of the monumental building, a dignitary of the court pushed himself forward and bowing low, said to charles: "august prince, magnanimous emperor, tidings have just been received of the death of the bishop of limburg." "oh! oh! only now? that surprises me greatly. people are so hot after the quarry of bishoprics that the death of a bishop is always announced two or three days in advance. did the deceased bishop die in the odor of sanctity? did he commend himself to the next world by the founding of pious establishments, or by rich bequests to the poor?" "august prince, it is said that he bequeathed only two pounds of silver to the poor." "how light a viaticum for so long a journey!" exclaimed a voice. it proceeded from bernard, the poor and learned pupil whom charles had just appointed clerk of his own chapel, and who, agreeable to the orders of the emperor, had kept close to his master since they left the palatine school. charles turned abruptly towards the young man, who, crimson with confusion, already regretted the boldness of his language and was trembling at every limb. "follow me!" said charles with severity; and observing that other dignitaries of the court took the call as if addressed to themselves, he added: "no, only the two bretons, eginhard and the young clerk. the rest of you may keep yourselves in readiness for the hunt that we shall start upon in a few minutes." the brilliant crowd kept itself aloof, and the emperor regained the gallery of the palace accompanied only by vortigern, amael, eginhard and the poor bernard, the last more dead than alive. the clerk walked last, fearing that he had angered the emperor by his stinging sally on the niggardliness of the deceased bishop. the surprise of the young clerk was, accordingly, great when, arrived at the extremity of the gallery, charles half turned to him, and with beaming eyes, said: "draw near, draw near! do you really think the bishop of limburg left too little money for the poor?" "seigneur, pardon my inadvertent boldness!" "answer. if i bestow that bishopric upon you, would you, the day you appear before god, have a better record for liberality than the bishop of limburg?" "august prince," answered the clerk, his head swimming at the thought of such unheard-of good fortune, and dropping on his knees: "it rests with god and your will to decide my fate." "arise. i appoint you bishop of limburg. but follow me. it will be well for you to learn, from personal observation, the greed with which bishoprics are striven for. the riches that they entail may be judged from the ardor with which their possession is pursued. and yet, once won, the cupidity of the incumbents, so far from being assuaged, seems whetted. do you remember, eginhard, that insolent bishop of mannheim? when, at the time of one of my campaigns against the huns, i left him near my wife hildegarde, did not the worthy feel so inflated with the friendship that my wife showed him, that he carried his audacity to the point of demanding from her as a gift the gold wand that i use as a symbol of my authority, for the purpose, as that impudent bishop declared, of using it for a cane? by the king of the heavens! the sceptre of charles, of the emperor, is not so readily to be converted into a walking stick for the bishops of his empire!" "you are in error, charles," put in amael. "sooner or later, the bishops will use your sceptre for a baton by means of which to drive peoples and kings as may suit themselves." "by the hammer of my grandfather! i will break the bishops' mitres on their own heads if ever they dare to usurp my power!" "no; you will do no such thing, and for the simple reason that you stand in fear of them. as a proof, behold the vast estates and the flatteries that you shower upon them." "i, fear the bishops!" cried the emperor; and turning to eginhard: "is that matter of the rat settled with the jew?" "yes, seigneur," answered eginhard, smiling. "the bishop closed the bargain yesterday." "that happens in time to prove to you that i am not afraid of the bishops, seigneur breton--i, flatter them? when, on the contrary, i miss no opportunity to give them severe or gentle lessons wherever they deserve reproof. as to the worthy ones, i enrich them; and even then i look twice before bestowing upon them lands and abbeys belonging to the imperial domains. and the reason is plain. with this or that abbey or farm i am certain of securing to myself some soldier vassal greatly more faithful than many a count or bishop." thus pleasantly chatting, the emperor regained his palace, and in the company of vortigern, amael, eginhard and the freshly appointed bishop of limburg, re-ascended the steep spiral staircase that led to his private apartment. hardly had charles entered his observatory when one of his chamberlains announced to him: "august emperor, several of the leading officers in the palace have solicited the honor of being admitted to your presence in order to lay a pressing request before you--the noble lady, mathalgarde (she was one of the numerous concubines of charles) also called twice on the same errand. she awaits your orders." "let the petitioners come in," answered charles to the chamberlain, who immediately left the room. addressing the young clerk, now bishop, with a jovial yet impressive air, charles pointed to the curtain of the door, near which his usual seat was located, and said: "hide yourself behind that curtain, young man; you are about to learn the number of rivals that the death of a bishop raises. it will aid your education." the young clerk had barely vanished behind the curtain, before the chamber was invaded by a large number of the palace familiars, officers and seigneurs at court. urging their own claims, or the claims of the clients whom they recommended, the mob deafened the emperor's ears with their clamor. among these was a bishop magnificently robed, and of haughty, imperious mien. he elbowed himself forward into charles' presence as fast as he could. "this is the bishop of the rat," eginhard whispered to the emperor. "the price he paid the jew was ten thousand silver sous. the jew scrupulously reported the amount to me, as you ordered." "bishop of bergues, have you not enough with one bishopric?" charles cried out to the haughty prelate. "do you come to solicit a second?" "august prince--i have come to pray you that you grant me the bishopric of limburg, just vacant, in exchange for that of bergues." "because the former is richer?" "yes, seigneur; and if i obtain it, the share of the poor will only be all the larger." "now, all of you, listen to me attentively," the emperor cried, pointing his finger at the bishop and in a tone of severity: "knowing the passionate love of this prelate for frivolous and ruinous curiosities, which he purchases at prodigious prices, i ordered the jew solomon to catch a rat in his house, the vilest looking rat ever caught in a rat-trap, to embalm the beast in precious aromatics, to wrap it up in oriental materials embroidered in gold, to offer it to the bishop of bergues as a most rare rat imported from judea upon a venetian vessel, and to sell it to the prelate as the most prodigious and miraculous of rats." a loud outburst of laughter broke from the throats of all the dignitaries in the audience, except the bishop of bergues, who shamefacedly cast down his eyes. "now, then," proceeded charles, "do you know what price the bishop of bergues paid for that prodigious rat? _ten thousand silver sous!_ the jew reported to me the amount--which will be distributed among the poor!" charles stopped for a moment, and presently resumed with heightened severity: "ye bishops, have a care! it should be your duty to be the fathers, the purveyors of the poor, and not to show yourselves greedy of vain frivolities. yet here you are, doing exactly the opposite. more than all other mortals are you given to avarice and idle cupidity! by the king of the heavens, take a care! the emperor's hand raised you, it may also pull you down. keep that in mind." as charles was uttering these last words, the courtiers were seen to part and make way for mathalgarde, one of the emperor's concubines. the woman, a dame of surpassing beauty, approached charles with a confident air and said to him gracefully: "my kind seigneur, the bishopric of limburg is vacant. i have promised it to a clerk who is under my protection, not doubting your kind approval." "dear mathalgarde, i have bestowed the bishopric upon a young man--a very learned and deserving young man; i could not think of taking it back from him." mathalgarde was not disconcerted. assuming the most insinuating voice at her command, she seized one of the emperor's hands and proceeded tenderly: "august prince, my gracious master, why bestow the bishopric so ill by giving it to a young man, perhaps a child. i conjure you, grant the bishopric to my clerk." suddenly a plaintive voice that proceeded from behind the curtain fell upon the startled ears of the attendants: "seigneur emperor, be firm--allow not that a mortal tear from your hands the power that god has placed in them. be firm, seigneur." it was the voice of poor bernard, who, fearing charles was about to allow himself to be seduced by the caressing words of mathalgarde, wished to remind him of his promise. the emperor immediately rolled back the curtain, behind which the clerk stood, took him by the hand, drew him forward, and presenting him to the audience, said: "this is the new bishop of limburg!" before the audience could recover from their stupor charles said to bernard in a voice loud and piercing enough to be heard by all present: "do not forget to distribute abundant alms--it will some day be your viaticum on that long journey from which man never returns." the beautiful mathalgarde, whose hopes had thus been rudely dashed, reddened with anger and abruptly left the apartment. the other courtiers, along with the bishop of bergues, speedily followed the chagrined woman, no less disappointed than herself. "seigneur breton," the emperor said, as soon as the chamber was cleared, and motioning amael to approach the door, which he opened wider to step out upon the balcony and enjoy the pleasant warmth of the autumn sun, "do you still think charles is of a mood to allow the bishops to use his sceptre for a baton with which to drive him and his people?" "charles, should it please you this evening, the experiences of the day being over, to accord me a short interview, i shall then express to you sincerely my thoughts upon all that i have seen here. i shall praise what seems good to me--and i shall censure the evil." "then you see evil here!" "here--and elsewhere." "how 'elsewhere'?" "do you imagine that your palace and your city of aix-la-chapelle, this favorite residence of yours, is all there is of gaul?" "what do you say of gaul! i have just traversed the north of those regions. i have been as far as boulogne, where i had a lighthouse erected for the protection of the ships. moreover--" but breaking off, the emperor pointed in the direction of that portion of the courtyard that the balcony commanded, saying: "look yonder--listen!" amael saw near one of the galleries a young man, robust and tall of stature, wearing a thick black beard, and clad in the robes of a bishop. two of his slaves had just brought out to him a gentle horse, as befits a prelate, and led the animal near a stone bench in order to aid their master in mounting. but the young bishop, having noticed two women looking at him from a nearby casement, and no doubt wishing to give them a proof of his agility, impatiently ordered his attendants to take the horse from the bench. thereupon, disdaining even the help of a stirrup, he seized the animal's mane with one hand and gave so vigorous a jump that he had great difficulty to keep his saddle, lest he fall over on the other side. the perilous leap attracted the emperor's attention to the prelate, and he called out to him in his shrill, squeaky voice: "eh! eh! you, there, my nimble prelate. one word with you, if you please!" the young man looked up, and recognizing charles, respectfully bowed his head. "you are quick and agile; you have good feet, good arms and a good eye. the quiet of our empire is every day disturbed by wars. we stand in great need of 'clerks' of your kidney. you shall stay with us and share with us our fatigues, seeing you can mount a horse so nimbly. i shall bestow your bishopric upon someone who is less sprightly. you shall take your place among my men-at-arms." the young bishop lowered his head in confusion. he looked at the emperor with a suppliant eye. but the latter's attention was speedily drawn from the discomfited prelate by the distant barking of a large pack of hounds, and the reveille of hunting trumps. "it is my hunting-train," exclaimed the emperor. "we shall depart for the hunt, seigneur breton. this evening we shall continue our chat. return with your grandson to your apartment. you will be served the noon meal. after that you will both join me. i am curious to see whether this youngster is as good a horseman as report makes him. moreover, although the exercise of the chase is a frivolous pastime, you may, perhaps, find that charles the fighter makes good use even of frivolities. be off now to dinner--and then, to horse!" chapter vii. to the hunt. octave had come to take amael and his grandson to the noon meal. while they walked towards one of the courtyards of the palace, in order to join the hunting suite of the emperor, the young roman, profiting by a moment when the aged breton could not overhear him, said in a low voice to vortigern: "lucky boy. i am convinced that two pairs of eyes, one black as ebony, the other of azure blue, have been peering through the crowd of courtiers--" but interrupting the flow of his words at the sight of the deep crimson that suffused the lad's visage, he proceeded to say: "wait till i have finished before you grow purple. well, as i was saying, two beautiful blue eyes and two equally beautiful black ones have, more than once, sought to detect in the crowd of courtiers--whom?--the venerable figure of your grandfather, because there is nothing so attractive as a long white beard. so much is that so that this forenoon, at mass, the blonde thetralde and the brunette hildrude quite forgot the thread of the divine service in order to contemplate incessantly--your grandfather, who was seated next to you. come, now, you are blushing again. are you, perchance, afraid lest the fascinating daughters of the emperor fall in love with the centenarian?" "your jokes are becoming insupportable." "oh, how contagious is the court air. hardly is this breton away from his native fogs than he has become as full of wiles as an old clerk." more and more embarrassed by the banterings of octave, vortigern only stammered a few words. the noon meal was disposed of. the aged breton, his grandson and the young roman were presently mounted upon their spirited horses that they found held ready for them by slaves in the courtyard of the palace, and they rode briskly out to join the emperor. two of the sons of charles, carloman and louis, or luthwig as the franks pronounced it, had arrived that same morning from their castle of heristal and now accompanied their father, together with five of his daughters and four of his concubines, the other women of the palace being this time excluded from the hunt. among the huntresses was imma, the paramour who had so bravely borne eginhard, the archchaplain, upon her back. still handsome, she now bordered on the full ripeness of womanhood. near her rode bertha, searching with her eyes for enghilbert, the handsome abbot of st. riquier. a little behind the couple came adelrude, who, from afar, smiled upon audoin, one of charles' most daring captains. last of all trotted the brunette hildrude, together with the blonde thetralde, both endeavoring to detect, no doubt, the breton centenarian, as octave had told vortigern. most of the seigneurs of charles' suite wore singular costumes, brought at great expense from pavia, whither commerce unloaded the riches of the orient. among the emperor's courtiers, some were clad in tunics of tyrian purple furnished with broad capes, ornamented with facings of embroidered phoenician birds'-skin, while feathers of asiatic peacocks' tail, neck and back, caused their rich vestments to glitter in all the shades of blue, gold, and emerald. others of the courtiers wore precious jackets of judean dormouse, or weasel--gowns much prized and as dainty and delicate as the skin of a bird. finally caps with floating feathers, leggings of silk, boots of oriental red or green leather, embroidered with gold or silver, completed the splendid accoutrement of these people of the court. the rude rusticity of the emperor's costume stood off in marked contrast with the magnificence of his courtiers. his coarse and large leather boots, furnished with iron spurs, reached up to his thighs; under his tunic he wore a broad sheep-skin coat with the fleece on the outside, and his head was covered with a cap of badger-skin. in his hand the emperor carried a short-handled whip which he used to stir up the hunting dogs with. thanks to his tall stature, which greatly exceeded that of any of his officers, charles was able to detect vortigern and amael from afar, whereupon he cried out to the grandfather: "eh, seigneur breton. come, if you please, to my side, with your grandson. i wish to ascertain whether, indeed, he is as good a horseman as my little girls claim." the ranks of the courtiers parted in order to allow a passage to amael and his grandson, the latter of whom modestly followed his grandfather, not daring to raise his eyes lest they should fall upon the group of women that surrounded the emperor. charles watched vortigern attentively, and the gracefulness with which the youth handled his horse, drew from the emperor the remark: "old charles can judge at a glance of the skill of a rider. i am satisfied. but i suspect you love the hunt better than you do the mass, and a horse's saddle better than a church bench." "i do prefer the hunt to the mass," frankly responded vortigern; "but i prefer war to the hunt." "though your answer is not that of a good catholic, it is the answer of a sincere lad. what do you think, my little ones?" added the emperor, turning towards the group of huntresses. "are you not of my mind?" "you asked the young man for his opinion, and he spoke out with sincerity. he says what he does; he will do what he says. valor and loyalty are written upon his face," was the prompt answer that came from hildrude. the blonde thetralde, not daring to speak after her elder sister, grew cherry-red, and cast a look of intense jealousy, almost of rage, upon the brunette hildrude, whose quick repartee she envied. "there is nothing left to me but to join in the praise of the young pagan's frankness, lest i get into trouble with my little girls. come forward," and leaning over towards amael, he pointed angrily with his whip at the crowd of courtiers who shimmered in their costly finery, and prinked in their flowing plumes. "look at that bevy of richly caparisoned customers. look at them well. you will presently wish to remember the figures they are now cutting," saying which, the emperor rode off at a gallop, followed by all his court, and calling out to the courtiers as well as to the bretons: "once in the forest, each to himself, and at the mercy of his own horse. at the hunt there is neither emperor nor courtier. there are only hunters and huntresses!" chapter viii. the forest of oppenheim. the hunt to which charles the emperor had galloped off with the buoyancy of youth, took place in a vast forest located at the very gate of aix-la-chapelle. the autumn sky, at first radiant, had been gradually overcast by one of the mists that are so frequent at the season and in that northern region. obedient to the emperor's orders, none of his courtiers attached himself to his steps. the hunters scattered. the more daring and venturesome did not quit the pack, now fretting in their leashes to start in pursuit of the deer across the thickets. the less daring and less enthusiastic sportsmen contented themselves with following at a distance the sound of the horns or the barking of the hounds; they straggled behind, or waited to see the deer dash across their path with the hounds and hunters at his heels. from the very start of the hunt, charles, carried away by his ardor for the sport, left his daughters to themselves, unable as they were to follow him through the thickest of the jungle, into which the emperor of the franks plunged like the hottest of his huntsmen. for an instant, separated from his grandfather in the rush and crush of the tumultuous assembly, where nearly a hundred horses, gathered in a small space, were excited by the din of the horns, to which they added their own impatient neighing, champed their bits and reared wildly, vortigern raised himself in his stirrups and searched with his eyes for amael, when suddenly his own horse took the bit in his mouth and galloped off rapidly with his rider. when the young breton finally succeeded, by dint of violent efforts, to master his mount, he found himself at a considerable distance from the chase. seeking to penetrate with his eyes the mist that spread ever further and thicker over the forest, the young man perceived that he was on a long avenue whose issues it was impossible to distinguish. he listened, expecting to hear from the distance the noise of the chase, which would have guided him in his efforts to joint it. the profoundest silence reigned in this part of the forest. a moment later, however, the tramp of two horses rapidly approaching from behind, struck his ears, and immediately after, a cry, uttered in anger rather than fear. an instant later, vortigern detected a vague form across the mist. by degrees the form became distinct, and soon the blonde thetralde was disclosed to the wondering eyes of the young breton, urging on her horse, and clad in a long robe of sapphire blue cloth, trimmed with ermine, white as the coat of her palfrey. on her blonde tresses thetralde wore a small cap, also of ermine. a sash of tyrean silk of lively colors, the long ends of which fluttered behind her in the air, was wound around her delicate waist. the childlike and charming visage of the emperor's daughter, now enhanced by the ardor of her run, shone with the flush of health. blushing at the sight of vortigern, thetralde dropped her large blue eyes, while the tight corsage of her robe rose and sank under the throbs of her maidenly bosom. vortigern's disturbance equalled thetralde's. like her, he remained mute and embarrassed. his eyes also were lowered, and he felt his heart beat violently. the silent embarrassment of the two children was broken by thetralde. in a timid and diffident voice she said to the young breton without daring to raise her eyes to him: "i thought i would never be able to join thee. thy horse had such a long lead of my palfrey--" "my horse carried me away--" "oh, i noticed it--my sister hildrude also," thetralde added frowning with her pretty eyebrows. "both of us thereupon rushed in thy pursuit--we feared that in thy unacquaintance with the paths of our forest thou mightest lose thy way." "it did seem to me that i heard the gallop of two horses--" "my sister wished to run ahead of me; but i struck her horse on the head with my whip. the frightened animal bolted to one side, carrying hildrude along. she was angry and uttered a cry of rage." "perhaps she runs some danger!" "no, my sister will be able to master her horse. but as the mist is very thick, she will not be able to meet us again. i am so happy about that!" vortigern felt on the rack. nevertheless, an ineffable sense of joy mingled with his agony. anew the two children remained silent, and again the daughter of the emperor of the franks was the one to break the silence: "thou dost not speak--art thou annoyed that i have joined thee?" "oh, no, lovely princess--" "perhaps thou thinkest me wicked because i struck my sister's horse? when i saw her striving to pass me, i no longer could control myself." "i hope that no ill may have befallen your sister." "i hope so too." for a moment thetralde and vortigern again relapsed into silence. with a slight touch of vexation the young girl once more resumed the conversation: "thou art very quiet--" "i know not what to say--" "nor i either; and yet i was dying with the wish to speak to thee--what is thy name?" "vortigern." "i am called thetralde--pronounce my name." "thetralde--" "i love to hear thee pronounce my name." "where do you think the hunt is now?" asked the young breton with increasing uneasiness. "it will be difficult to find the hunters. the mist grows ever denser." "should we lose ourselves," thetralde replied laughing, "i do not know the paths of the forest." "why did you not, then, remain near the people of the court and the seigneurs of the escort?" "i saw thee running off rapidly, and i followed thee." "that throws both you and me into a great perplexity." "art thou sorry to find thyself alone here with me?" "not at all!" cried vortigern, "only i fear that this dense mist may change into rain towards evening, and that you may get wet. we should try and join the chase. do you not think so?" "in what direction shall we go?" "it seemed to me a moment ago i heard the feeble sound of horns at a great distance." "let us listen again," said thetralde, bending her charming head to one side, while vortigern sought to listen from the opposite side. "dost thou hear anything?" queried the emperor's daughter raising her sweet voice and addressing vortigern, who stood at a little distance. "i can hear nothing." "nor i either," rejoined the young breton. "here we are lost!" cried the young girl laughing merrily. "and if night overtakes us, what a terrible thing!" "and you laugh at such a plight?" "is it that thou art afraid, and thou a soldier?" but immediately the handsome face of thetralde assumed an uneasy look and she observed: "does thy wound hurt thee, my brave companion?" "i am not thinking of my wound. i am only uneasy at perceiving that the mist grows still thicker. how can we regain our route? whither could we go?" "but i do wish to speak of thy wound," replied charles' daughter with infantine impatience. "why is not thy arm any longer protected by a scarf, as it was yesterday?" "it would have incommoded me in the chase." thetralde quickly detached her long belt of tyrean silk and held it out to vortigern. "take this, my belt will take the place of thy scarf, and sustain thy arm." "it is unnecessary, i assure you." "bad boy!" cried thetralde, holding out her belt to vortigern; and fixing upon him her beautiful blue eyes, almost imploringly said: "i beg of thee; do not refuse me!" vanquished by the timid and loving look, the young breton accepted the scarf; but as he held the reins of his horse with one hand he found it difficult to fasten the belt into a scarf-band around his neck. "wait," and thetralde approached her palfrey close to vortigern's horse, leaned over in her saddle, took the two ends of the belt and tied them behind the lad's neck. the touch of the young girl's hand sent so wild a thrill through his frame that thetralde, noticing the circumstance, said, as she finished the knot: "thou tremblest--is it out of fear, or out of cold?" "the mist is becoming so thick, so wet," answered vortigern, with increasing uneasiness. "are not you yourself cold? i very much fear for you in this icy mist--" "fear not for me. but seeing thou art cold, we can walk our horses. it would be useless to move any faster. perhaps the chase that we are in search of will come our way." "so much the better!" "i am delighted to learn that thy grandfather and thyself will remain a long time with us." "may we be fortunate enough to do so!" the two children continued their way, walking their horses side by side in the long avenue, where one could see not twenty paces ahead, so thick had the mist become. night presently began to draw near. after a short interval of mutual silence, thetralde resumed: "we franks are the enemies of the people of thy country; and yet i feel no enmity whatever towards thee; and thou, dost thou entertain any hatred for me?" "i could not feel hatred for a young girl." "thou must feel very sorry for being far away from thy own country. wouldst thou wish me to ask the emperor, my father, to render grace to thy grandfather and thyself?" "a breton never asks for grace!" proudly cried vortigern. "my grandfather and i are hostages, prisoners on parole; we shall submit to the law of war." a fresh interval of silence followed upon this exchange of words. but soon, as vortigern had foreseen, the dense mist changed into a fine and penetrating rain. "the rain is upon us!" exclaimed the young breton. "not a sound is heard. this route seems to be endless. no! here is a side path to the left. shall we take it?" "as it may please thee," answered thetralde with indifference. the girl was about to turn her horse's head, agreeable to the suggestion of vortigern, when the latter suddenly leaped down from his mount, detached the belt of his sword, took off his blouse, remaining in his thick jacket of the material of his breeches, and said to thetralde: "i consented to accept your scarf. it is now your turn. you must now consent to cover yourself with my blouse. it will serve you for a mantle." "place it on my shoulders," answered thetralde blushing; "i dare not drop the reins of my palfrey." no less agitated than his girl companion, vortigern drew near her and laid his garment on the shoulders of thetralde. but when it came to tying the sleeves of the blouse around her neck and almost upon the palpitating bosom of the young girl, who, with her eyes lowered and her cheeks burning, raised her little pink chin in order to afford vortigern full ease in the accomplishment of his kindly office, the hands of the lad shook so violently, that his mission was not accomplished until after repeated trials. "thou art cold; thou art shivering worse than thou didst before." "it is not the cold that makes me shiver--" "what ails thee then?" "i know not--the uneasiness that i feel on your behalf, seeing that night approaches. we have lost our way in the forest. the rain is coming down heavier. and we know not what road to take--" interrupting her companion with a cry of joy, thetralde pointed with her finger to one side of the avenue of trees that they were on, and exclaimed: "there is a hut down yonder!" so there was. vortigern perceived in the center of a cluster of centenarian chestnut trees a hut constructed of thick layers of peat heaped upon one another. a narrow opening gave entrance to the bower, before which the remnants of some dry wood recently lighted were still seen smouldering. "it is one of the huts in which the woodcutter slaves take refuge during the day when it rains," explained thetralde. "we shall be then under cover. tie thy horse to a tree and help me alight." at the bare thought of sharing the solitary retreat with the young girl, vortigern felt his heart thump under his ribs. a flush of burning fever rose to his face while, nevertheless, he shivered. after a moment's hesitation, the lad complied with the orders of his companion. he tied his horse to a tree, and, in order to assist the young girl to alight from her mount, he extended to her his arms and received within them the supple and nimble body of thetralde. so profound was the emotion experienced by vortigern at the touch of the maid, that he was almost overcome. but the daughter of charles, running towards the hut with pretty curiosity, cried out merrily: "i see a moss-bank in the hut and a supply of dry wood. let's light a fire. there are still some embers burning. hurry. hurry." the lad hastened to join his companion and stumbled over a large log of wood that rolled at his feet. stooping, he saw strewn about it a large number of burrs that had dropped down from the tall chestnut trees overhead. at once forgetting his embarrassment, he exclaimed with delight: "a discovery! chestnuts! chestnuts!" "what a find," responded thetralde, no less delighted. "we shall roast the chestnuts. i shall pick them up while thou startest the fire." the young breton did as suggested by his girl companion, all the more readily seeing that he hoped to find in the sport a refuge from the vague, tumultuous and ardent thoughts, big at once with delight and anxiety, that he had been a prey to from the moment of his meeting with thetralde. he entered the hut, took up several bunches of dry wood and rekindled the brasier into flame, while the daughter of charles, running hither and thither, gathered a large supply of chestnuts which she brought into the hut in a fold of her dress. letting herself down upon the moss-bank that lay at the further end of the hut, the interior of which was now brightly lighted by the glare of the fire which burned near the entrance, she said to vortigern, motioning him to a seat near her: "sit down here, and help me shell these chestnuts." the lad sat down near thetralde and entered with her into a contest of swiftness in the shelling of chestnuts, during which, like herself, he more than once pricked his fingers in the effort to extract the ripe kernels from their burrs. presently, looking into her face, he said archly: "and here you have the daughter of the emperor of the franks; seated inside of a peat hut and shelling chestnuts like any woodchopper and slave's daughter." "vortigern," answered thetralde, returning the look of her companion with a radiant face, "never was the daughter of the emperor of the franks more happy than at this moment." "and i, thetralde, i swear to you that since the day i left my mother, my sister and brittany, i have never been more pleased than to-day, than now, near you." "and if to-morrow should resemble to-day? and if it should be thus for a long time, a very long time--wouldst thou always be pleased?" "and you, thetralde?" "say 'thou' to me. we address one another with 'thou' in germany. say to me: 'and thou, thetralde?'" "but the respect--" "i say 'thou' to you, and do not respect you the less for it," rejoined the maid laughing. "say to me: 'and thou, thetralde?'" "and thou, thetralde?" "so thou wishest to know whether i would be happy at the thought of all our days resembling this one, and our living together?" "yes, my charming princess!" the young maid remained pensive, holding in her delicate fingers a half opened chestnut husk. presently she raised her head and broke the silence with the question: "vortigern, is it far from here to thy country?" "it took us more than a month to come here from brittany." "vortigern, what a beautiful journey that would make!" "what sayest thou?" thetralde made a charming gesture commanding silence: "hast thou any money about thee?" and proceeding to detach from her belt a little embroidered purse, she emptied its contents into her lap. there were several heavy pieces of gold and a large number of smaller pieces of silver and copper. two of the latter, one of silver and one of copper, and both of about the size of a denier, were pierced and tied together by a thread of gold. "this is all my treasure," the girl observed. "why are these two pieces tied together?" inquired vortigern, with a look of curiosity. "oh, these two must never be spent. we must preserve them carefully. one of them, the copper one, was struck the year of my birth; the other, the silver one, was struck this year, when i shall be fifteen. fabius, my father's astronomer, has engraved upon these pieces certain magical signs corresponding to planets of happy influence. the bishop of aix-la-chapelle blessed them. they are a talisman." "if it were not that they are a talisman, thetralde, i would have requested these two little pieces from thee as a souvenir of this day." "to what purpose wouldst thou keep a souvenir of this day rather than of the next days to follow? dost thou not desire that all should resemble one another? if thou desirest these two little pieces, here, take them; i give them to thee. a talisman is a useful thing on a journey. place them in the pocket of thy jacket." vortigern obeyed almost mechanically, while the young girl, after ingenuously counting up her little hoard, resumed, saying: "we here have five gold sous, eight silver deniers, and twelve copper deniers; besides my bracelets, my necklace and my earrings. with that we shall have money enough to journey as far as brittany. night is upon us; we shall spend it under the shelter of this hut. to-morrow we shall have the woodcutter slave lead us to werstern, a little burg situated on the skirt of the forest, about two leagues from aix-la-chapelle. we shall buy some simple clothing for myself, a traveling cloak of cloth. to-morrow at daybreak we shall start on our route. do not fear that i shall recoil before fatigue. i am neither as tall nor as strong as my sister hildrude, and yet, if thou shouldst be tired or wounded, i am sure i could carry thee on my back, just as my sister imma once carried her lover eginhard on hers. but our chestnuts are now all shelled. come and help me to put them under the hot ashes. we shall eat them when roasted." raising with one hand the fold of her robe in which lay the nuts, thetralde ran to the brasier. vortigern followed her. he felt as in a dream. at times his reason gave way under the spell of an ardent and intoxicating vertigo. he knelt down silently, disturbed in mind, beside thetralde before the brasier, into which the girl, steeped in thought, was slowly throwing the chestnuts one by one. without, the rain had stopped; but the mist, now thickened to a fog with the approach of night, rendered the darkness complete. the reflection of the brasier only lighted up the charming faces of the two children on their knees beside each other. when the last chestnut had followed the others under the cinders, thetralde rose, and leaning with familiar candor on vortigern's shoulders said to him, taking his hand: "and now, while thy supper is cooking, let us go back and sit down upon the bench of moss for me to finish telling thee my prospects. i have thought over what we are to do." the night became profound. the flickering, vacillating flame in the expiring brasier seemed to cry for fresh fuel. the chestnuts, that had been consigned to its warmth, snapped noisily from their hulls into the air, announcing that their toothsome pulp was ready to be partaken of. without, the horse and the palfrey of vortigern and thetralde pawed the ground and neighed impatiently, as if calling for their provender. the fire finally went out. the chestnuts changed to charcoal. the neighings of the horses resounded ever louder in the midst of the nocturnal silence of the forest. thetralde and vortigern did not issue from the hut. chapter ix. at the mort. from the start of the hunt, the emperor of the franks had rushed headlong on the heels of the hounds. amael, at first somewhat uneasy at the disappearance of his grandson in the midst of so large a concourse of cavaliers, was taken by accident towards that part of the forest whither the stag was leading the hounds from cover to cover. amael even had the opportunity to assist, shortly before nightfall, at the killing of the stag, which, exhausted with fatigue after four hours of breathless running, turned at bay before the hounds when they had reached him at last, and strove to defend himself against them with the aid of the magnificent spread of antlers that crowned his head. the emperor had not for a moment lost track of the hounds. he followed them speedily at the mort, together with a few others of the hunters. jumping from his horse, he ran limping towards the animal at bay that already had gored several hounds with his sharp horns. choosing with an experienced eye the opportune moment, charles drew his hunting knife, and, rushing upon the desperate animal, plunged the weapon into the stag just above its shoulder, threw it down and then abandoned it to the hounds, that fiercely precipitated themselves upon the warm quarry and devoured it amidst the sonorous fanfare of the hunters' horns that thus announced the close of the chase and called their scattered fellows to reassemble. with his bloody knife in his hand, and after having contemplated with lively satisfaction the wild pack now red at their nozzles and contending with one another for the shreds of the stag's flesh, the emperor's eyes fell upon amael, to whom he called out gaily: "eh, seigneur breton--am i not a bold hunter?" "you will pardon my sincerity, but i find that at this moment the emperor of the franks, with his long knife in his hand, and his boots and coat spattered with blood, looks more like a butcher than like an illustrious monarch." "i feel happy, nevertheless, and consequently inclined to be indulgent, seigneur breton," replied the emperor, laughing; then, lowering his voice, he observed to amael: "now, see how the clothes of the seigneurs of my court look." in fact, most of the emperor's seigneurs and officers, now hastening in on horseback to his presence from all sides of the thickets in response to the horns, presented an appearance that contrasted sadly with that which they had presented a few hours before. magnificently attired at the start of the hunt, those seigneurs, who looked so resplendent in their rich tunics of silk, now presented a sight that was as ridiculous as it was pitiful. the embroideries on their tunics, at first so rich in color, were now frayed, soiled with mud, and torn by the branches of the trees and the thorns of the briars; the feathers that floated proudly from their caps, now drooped, wet, broken and draggled, resembling long, dislocated, and limp fish-bones; the boots of oriental leather had vanished under a thick coat of slush, and not a few of them, torn by the thorns, exposed their owners' hose, not infrequently also their skin itself. they shivered and looked distressed. charles, on the contrary, simply and warmly dressed in his thick sheep-skin coat, which reached down over his boots of rough leather, and his head covered with his badger-skin bonnet, rubbed his hands with a cunning look of satisfaction in his eyes at the sight of his courtiers shivering with the cold and the wet. after contemplating the spectacle for a moment, charles made a sign of intelligence to amael and said to him in an undertone: "just before breaking ranks for the hunt, i recommended you to observe the magnificence of the costumes of these coxcombs, who are as vain as asiatic peacocks, and even more devoid of brains than the bird whose spoils they wear. look at them now--the fine fellows!" amael smiled approvingly, while the emperor, shrugging his shoulders, turned to the seigneurs with his squalling voice: "oh, ye most foolish of people, which is at this moment the most precious and useful of all our raiment? mine, which i bought with barely a sou? or yours, which you have had to pay for through the nose?" at this judicious raillery, the courtiers remained silent and confused, while the emperor, placing both his hands on his spacious paunch, roared out aloud. "charles," amael said to him unheard by the others, "i prefer to hear you speak with that sly wisdom than to see you disemboweling stags." but the emperor did not answer the aged breton. he suddenly interrupted the discourse, extending his hand towards a group of nearby serfs, and crying out: "oh! look at that pretty girl!" amael followed with his eyes the direction indicated by charles and saw amid several of the woodcutter slaves of the forest who had been attracted by curiosity to see the hunt, a young girl barely covered in rags, but of remarkable beauty. a much younger child of about ten or eleven years held her by the hand. a poor old woman, as wretchedly clad as the girl, was in the company of the two. the emperor of the franks, whose large eyes glistened like carbuncles with the fire of lust, repeated, addressing amael: "by the cape of st. martin! the girl is beautiful. is it that your hundred years on your back render you insensible to the sight of such rare beauty, seigneur breton? what a beautiful girl!" "charles, the misery of that creature strikes me more strongly than her beauty." "you are very commiserate, seigneur breton--so am i. linen and silk should clothe so charming a figure. no doubt she is the daughter of some woodman slave. i can tell you, one runs at times across wonderfully beautiful girls in the forest. more than once i have dropped the chase in the middle of the heat to pursue another scent. but in honor to truth, i have never seen such a charmer before. it must be her good star that brought her across the path of charles." without removing his eyes from the young girl, charles called to one of the seigneurs in his suite: "eh! burchard. come here; i have orders for you." the seigneur burchard quickly alighted from his horse and hastened to obey the call of the emperor. the latter, moving a few steps away from amael, whispered a few words in the ear of the seigneur, who, showing himself greatly honored with the mission given him by his master, bowed respectfully, and, leading his horse by the bridle, approached the old woman and the two younger girls who stood by her, motioned to them to follow him, and vanished with his charge behind the group of hunters. a deep flush colored the cheeks of amael; he puckered his brows, and his features became expressive of as much indignation as disgust. at that same instant amael noticed that the emperor was looking about him with a certain degree of uneasiness and calling out aloud: "where are my little girls? can they have lost track of the hunt?" "august emperor," said one of the officers, "richulff, who accompanied your august daughters, told me that when the rain began to fall some of them concluded to return to aix-la-chapelle, while the others decided to seek the shelter of the pavilion, where you ordered supper to be held ready." "think of the timorous bodies! i wager that my little thetralde is not among the amazons who are afraid of a drop of water, and who hastened back to the palace. as they are all safe, i shall not worry. let us hasten to the pavilion ourselves, because i am ravenously hungry." and remounting his horse, the emperor added: "we shall find at the pavilion the damsels who have preferred to sup with their father. the stout-hearted lasses shall be well feasted, and i shall bestow rich presents upon them." seeing that charles was manifesting some slight uneasiness on the score of his daughters, amael, in turn, began to feel preoccupied with regard to vortigern, whom, for some time, he had been searching for with his eyes among the groups of the approaching knights. as his eyes fell upon octave, who just then came running in at a gallop, the aged breton inquired from him with no little anxiety: "octave, have you seen my grandson anywhere?" "we parted company almost at the very start of the hunt." "he is not with us," proceeded amael with increasing uneasiness. "night is here and he is not familiar with the paths of the forest." "oh! oh! seigneur breton," put in the emperor of the franks, who, immediately upon remounting his horse, had drawn near the aged man and overheard his question to the young roman, "you seem to feel uneasy about your youngster. well, what if he should have lost his way this evening? he will find it again to-morrow. do you fear he will die of one night spent in the forest? is not hunting the school of war? come, come! be at ease. besides, who knows," added charles with a roguish air. "mayhap he encountered some pretty woodcutter's daughter in some of the huts of the forest. it is like his years. you surely do not mean to make a monk of him? pretty lassies are meant for handsome lads." chapter x. emperor and hostage. led by the emperor of the franks, the cavalcade of hunters rode towards the pavilion where supper was to be partaken of before the return to aix-la-chapelle. charles called amael to his side, and noticing, as they rode, that the aged breton continued preoccupied about vortigern, the emperor turned to the centenarian with a merry twinkle in his eye: "what do you think of this day? have you recovered from your prejudices against charles the fighter? do you think me at all worthy to govern my empire, a domain as vast as the old empire of rome? do you deem me worthy of reigning over the population of armorica?" "charles, in my youth your grandfather proposed to me that i be the jailer of the last descendant of clovis, an ill-starred boy, then a prisoner in an abbey, and having barely one suit of clothes to cover himself with. that boy, when grown to man's estate, was, upon orders of pepin, your father, tonsured and locked up in a monastery, where he died obscure and forgotten. thus do royalties end. such is the expiation, prompt or late, reserved for royal stocks that issue from conquest." "then the stock of charles, whom the whole world calls the great," rejoined the emperor with an incredulous and proud smile, "is, according to your theory, destined to run out obscurely in some do-nothing king?" "it is my firm conviction." "i took you at first for a man of good judgment," replied the emperor shrugging his shoulders; "i must now admit that i was mistaken." "this very morning, in your palatine school, you observed that the children of the poor studied with zeal, while the children of the rich are lazy. the reason is plain. the former feel the need of work to insure their well-being; the latter, being provided with and in possession of ample fortunes, make no effort to acquire knowledge. it is to them superfluous. your ancestors, the stewards of the palace, have done like the children of the poor. your descendants, however, being no longer in need of conquering a crown, will imitate the children of the rich." "despite a certain appearance of logic, your argument is false. my father usurped a crown, but he left to me at the most the kingdom of gaul. to-day gaul is but one of the provinces of the immense empire that i have conquered. obviously, i did not remain idle and torpid like the rich boys in your comparison." "the frankish kings, together with their leudes, who later became great landed seigneurs, and the bishops, plundered gaul, divided her territory among them, and reduced her people to slavery. but after a period, be it short or long, learn this, oh, great emperor, the people will rise in their strength, glorious, terrible, and they will know how to reconquer their patrimony and their independence!" "let us drop the future and the past. what think you of charles?" "i think that you are mistakenly proud of having almost reconstructed the administrative edifice of the roman emperors, and of causing, like them, your will to weigh upon the whole domain, from one end to the other. of all that, nothing will be left after you are gone! all the peoples that have been conquered and subjugated by your arms will rise in revolt. your boundless empire, composed of kingdoms that no common bond of origin, of customs, or of language holds together, will fall to pieces; it will crumble together and will bury your descendants under its ruins." "do you mean to imply that charles the great will have passed over the world like a shadow without leaving behind him any lasting monument of his glory?" "no, your life will not have been worthless. by ceaselessly warring against the frisians, the saxons and other peoples who wished to invade gaul, you have checked, if not forever, at least for a long time, the maraudings of those hordes that ravaged the north and east of our unhappy country. but if you have barred the entrance of the barbarians into gaul over land, the sea remains open to them. the northman pirates almost every day make descents upon the coasts of your empire, and their boldness increases to the point that ascending in their vessels the meuse, the gironde and the loire, they threaten the very heart of your dominion." "oh, old man! this time, i fear me, your misgivings do not lead you astray. the northmans are the only source of disquiet to my sleep! the bare thought of the invasions of those pagans causes me to be overcome with involuntary and unexplainable apprehensions. one day, during my sojourn at narbonne, several vessels of those accursed people extended their piratical incursion into the very port. a sinister presentiment seized me; despite all i could do to restrain them, the tears rolled out of my eyes. one of my officers asked me the reason for my sudden fit of sadness. 'do you wish to know, my faithful followers,' i answered, 'do you wish to know why i weep so bitterly? certes, i do not fear that these northmans may injure me with their piracies; but i feel profoundly afflicted at the thought that, in my very lifetime, they have the audacity of touching upon the borders of my empire; and great is my grief because i have a presentiment of the sufferings that these northmans will inflict upon my descendants and my peoples;'" and the emperor remained for several minutes as if overpowered by the sinister premonition that he now recalled. "charles," amael resumed with a grave voice, "all royalty that issues from conquest, or from violence, carries within itself the germ of death, for the reason that its principle is iniquitous. perchance those northman pirates may some day cause your stock to expiate the original iniquity of the royal sway that you hold from conquest." whether, absorbed in his own thoughts, the emperor failed to hear the last words of the gaul, or whether he could make no answer to them, he suddenly cried out: "let us forget the accursed northmans. speak to me of the good that i have done. your words of praise are rare; i like them all the more for that." "you are not cruel out of wilfulness, although you might be reproached for the massacre of more than four thousand saxon prisoners." "i remember the event perfectly," charles said with emphasis. "i had to terrify those barbarians by a signal example. it was a fatal necessity!" "your heart is accessible to certain promptings of justice and humanity. in your capitularies you made an effort to improve the condition of the slaves and the colonists." "it was my duty as a christian, as a catholic. all men are brothers." "you are no more christian than your friends, the bishops. you have simply yielded to an instinct of humanity, natural to man, whatever his religion may be. but still you are not a christian." "by the king of the heavens! perhaps i am a jew?" "christ said, according to st. luke the evangelist: _the lord hath sent me to preach deliverance to the captives--to set at liberty them that are bruised._ now, then, your dominions are full of prisoners carried by conquest from their own homes; the estates of your bishops and your abbots are stocked with slaves. accordingly, neither you nor your priests are christians. a christian, according to the words of the christ, must never hold his fellowman in bondage. all men are equal." "custom so wills it; i merely conform myself thereto." "what is there to hinder you, and the bishops as well as you, all-mighty emperor that you are, from abolishing the abominable custom? what is there to hinder you from emancipating the slaves? what is there to hinder you from restoring to them, along with their liberty, the possession of the land that they themselves render fruitful with the sweat of their brow?" "old man, from time immemorial there have been slaves, and there ever will be slaves. what would it avail to be of the conquering race if not to keep the fruits of conquest? by the king of the heavens! do you take me for a barbarian? have i not promulgated laws, founded schools, encouraged letters, arts and sciences? is there in the whole world a city comparable with aix-la-chapelle?" "your gorgeous capital of aix-la-chapelle, the capital of your germanic possessions, is not gaul. gaul has remained to you a strange country. you love forests that lend themselves to your autumn hunting parties, and the rich domains, whence every year the revenues are carted to your residences on the other side of the rhine. but you do not love gaul, seeing that you exhaust her resources in men and money in order to carry on your wars. frightful misery desolates our provinces. millions of god's creatures, deprived almost of bread, shelter and clothes, toil from dawn to dusk, and die in slavery--all in order to sustain the opulence of their masters. if you cause instruction to be given to some pupils in your palatine school, you allow, on the other hand, millions of god's creatures to live like brutes! such is the condition of gaul under your reign, charles the great!" "old man," rejoined the emperor, with a somber face and rising anger, "after treating you as a friend this whole day, i looked for different language. you are more than severe, you are unjust." "i have been sincere towards you, the same as i was towards your grandfather." "mindful of the service that you rendered my grandfather at the battle of poitiers, i meant to be generous towards you. i meant to do the right thing by myself, by your people, and by you. i hoped to see you, after this day spent in close intimacy with me, drop your prejudices, and to be able to say to you: i have vanquished the bretons by force of arms; i desire to affirm my conquest by persuasion. return to your country; report to your countrymen the day that you spent with charles; they will trust your words, seeing that they place implicit confidence in you. you were the soul of the last two wars that they sustained against me. be now the soul of our pacification. a conquest founded on force is often ephemeral; a conquest cemented in mutual affection and esteem is imperishable. i trust in your loyalty to gain the hearts of the bretons to me. such was my hope. the bitter injustice of your words dashes it. let us think of it no more. you shall remain here as a hostage. i shall treat you as a brave soldier, who saved my grandfather's life. perhaps in time you will judge me more justly. when that day shall have come, you will be allowed to return to your own country, and i feel sure you will then tell them what is right, as to-day you would only tell them what is wrong. all things will come in due season." "although your hopes can not realize the object that you proposed, they, nevertheless, are an evidence of a generous soul." "by the cap of st. martin! you bretons are a strange people. what! if you should believe that i deserve esteem and affection, and if your countrymen should share your opinion, would neither you nor they accept with joy the authority that you now submit to by force?" "with us it is no question of having a more or less worthy master. we want no master." "and yet i am your master, ye pagans!" "until the day when we shall have reconquered our independence by a successful insurrection." "you will be crushed to dust, exterminated! i swear it by the beard of the eternal father." "exterminate the last of the breton gauls, strangle all the children, and you will then be able to reign over the desert of armorica. but so long as there lives a single man of our race in our country, you may be able to vanquish, but never to subjugate it." "but tell me, old man, is it that my rule is so terrible, and my laws so hard?" "we want no foreign domination. to live according to the laws of our fathers, freely and as becomes free men, to choose our chiefs, to pay no tribute, to lock ourselves up within our own frontiers and to defend them--these are our aspirations. accept them and you will have nothing to fear from us." "to dictate conditions to me! to me, who reign as sovereign master over all europe! to have a miserable population of shepherds and husbandmen impose conditions to me! to me, whose arms have conquered the world! impudence can reach no further!" "i might answer you that, in order to vanquish that miserable population of shepherds, of woodmen and husbandmen entrenched in their mountain fastnesses, behind their rocks, their marshes and their forests, your veteran bands had to be requisitioned for gaul--" "yes," cried the emperor in a vexed voice, "in order to keep your accursed country in obedience, i am forced to leave there my choicest troops, troops that i may need at any moment here in germany, where i have hard battles to fight." "that must be an unpleasant thing to you, charles, i admit. without mentioning the maritime invasions of the northmans, there are the bohemians, the hungarians, the bavarians, the lombards and so many other people whom your arms have overcome, the same as they overcame us, the bretons--all vanquished, but none subjugated. from one moment to the other they may rise anew, and, what is graver still, menace the very heart of your empire. as to us, on the contrary, all that we demand is to live free; we never think of going beyond our frontiers." "who guarantees to me that, once my troops, are out of your infernal country, you will not forthwith resume your armed excursions and attacks against the frankish forces that are bivouacked on this side of your borders?" "the other provinces are gallic like ourselves. our duty bids us to provoke them, and to aid them to break the yoke of the frankish kings. but the thoughtful people among us are of the opinion that the hour for revolt has not yet come. for the last four centuries the catholic priests have moulded the minds of the people to slavery. alas, centuries will pass before they re-awaken from their present stupor. you admit that it is dangerous for you to be compelled to keep a portion of your best troops tied up in brittany. recall your army. i give you my word as a breton, and i am, moreover, authorized to make the pledge in the name of our tribes, that, so long as you live, we shall not go out of our frontiers." "by the king of the heavens! the joke is rather too harsh. do you take me for a fool? do i not know that, if i grant you a truce by withdrawing my troops, you will take advantage of it to prepare anew for war after my death? but we shall always know how to suppress your uprisings." "yes, we shall certainly take up arms if your sons fail to respect our liberties." "and you really expect me--me, the vanquisher, to consent to a shameful truce? to consent to withdraw my forces from a country that it has cost me so much trouble to overcome?" "very well; leave, then, your army in brittany, but depend upon it that, within a year or two, new insurrections will break out." "insane old man! how dare you hold such language to me when you, your grandson, and four other breton chiefs are my hostages! oh! i swear by the everlasting god, your head will drop at the first sign of an insurrection. do not lean too heavily upon the good nature of the old charles. the terrible example i made of the four thousand prisoners whom i took from the revolted saxons should be proof enough to you that i recoil before no act of necessity. only the dead are not to be feared." "the breton chiefs who remained on the way by reason of their wounds, and who will speedily join me and my grandson at aix-la-chapelle, would, no more than my grandson and myself, have accepted the post of hostages had the same been without danger. whatever the fate may be that awaits us, we shall not falter in our duty. we are here in the very center of your empire, and well in condition to judge of the opportuneness for an uprising. from this very place we will give the signal for a fresh war, the moment we think the time is favorable." "by the king of the heavens! this audacity has gone far enough!" cried the emperor, pale with rage. "to dare tell me that these traitors, according to what they may see and spy near my court, will themselves send to brittany the order to revolt! oh, i swear by god, from to-morrow, from this very evening, both you and your grandson will be cast into a dungeon so dark that you will need lynx's eyes to find out what goes on around here. by the cap of st. martin! such insolence is enough to turn one into a ferocious beast. not another word, old man! here we are at the pavilion. i shall now join my daughters. the sight of them will console me for your ingratitude!" uttering these last words with mingled rage and sorrow, the emperor put his horse to the gallop in order to reach all the quicker the hunting pavilion, where he expected to meet his daughters, and satisfy his growing hunger. the seigneurs in charles' suite were about to follow their master's example and quicken the steps of their mounts, when the emperor, suddenly turning around, cried out to them, with an imperious voice: "no one shall follow me. i want to be alone with my daughters! you shall await my orders near the pavilion." chapter xi. frank and breton. the emperor rode rapidly forward toward the hunting pavilion. the seigneurs of his suite received the angry order of their master with silent obedience, and, reining in their horses, proceeded at a slower gait towards the rendezvous. lost among them, amael rode along, steeped in thought, revolving the recent conversation he had with charles, and at the same time more and more a prey to anxiety at the prolonged absence of vortigern. the emperor's courtiers shivered under their robes of silk and drabbled feathers, and silently grumbled at the whim of their emperor, whereby the looked-for time was retarded when they might warm themselves at the fire of the pavilion, and revive their spirits with supper. arrived in the close neighborhood of the pavilion, they alighted from their horses. they had been conversing together about a quarter of an hour, when amael, who had also alighted and leaned pensively against one of the nearby gigantic trees of the forest, noticed octave hastening in his direction and calling out to him: "amael, i was looking for you--come quick!" the aged breton tied his horse to the tree and followed octave. when both had walked a little distance away from the group of the frankish seigneurs, the young roman proceeded: "i feel mortally uneasy on the score of vortigern. your grandson having been carried away by his horse early in the hunt, thetralde and hildrude, two of the emperor's daughters, followed him on the spot. what may have happened? i can not guess. i am told positively that hildrude, who seemed greatly irritated, rode back to aix-la-chapelle with two other sisters and all the concubines of the emperor who had come to the chase. thetralde must have remained alone behind with vortigern in some part of the forest." "finish your account." "i know from experience how easy-going are the morals of this court. thetralde has taken notice of your grandson. she is fifteen, has been brought up amidst her sisters, who have as many paramours as their own father has mistresses. despite himself, vortigern has made a lively impression upon the heart of thetralde. the two are children. they have vanished together, and must have been lost together, seeing that three of the emperor's daughters have returned to the palace and the other two are at the pavilion. only thetralde is not to be found. if she lost her way in the company of vortigern--i would this morning have been of the opinion that it was to be hoped--" "heaven and earth!" broke in the aged breton, growing pale. "how dare you joke on such a matter!" "this morning i would have considered the adventure highly amusing. this evening it seems to me redoubtable. a minute ago, angered at something or other, the emperor clapped both his spurs to his horse's flanks, ordered that none should follow him, and rushed towards the pavilion. rothaide and bertha, daughters of charles, notified of their father's approach by the clatter of his horse, and believing that his whole suite was with him, sped away to the upper chambers of the pavilion--bertha with enghilbert, the handsome abbot of st. riquier, rothaide with audoin, one of the emperor's officers." "and then?" "the emperor arrives all alone and dismounts. 'where are my daughters?' he calls out impatiently to the grand nomenclator of his table who happens to be superintending the preparations for the supper. the grand nomenclator answers in great embarrassment: 'august emperor, allow me to go and announce your arrival to the princesses; they have withdrawn to the upper chambers in order to take some rest while waiting for supper.' 'i shall go myself and see them,' replies charles, saying which, he clambers up the stairs. old vulcan surprising venus and mars at their amorous escapade, could not have been more furious than was the august emperor when he surprised his daughters in the arms of their gallants. the grand nomenclator having remained near the door of the staircase soon heard an infernal racket in the chambers above. the irate charles was plying his hunting whip right and left over the two amorous couples. a profound silence ensued thereupon. the emperor having the habit of not noising such things about came down again, calm in appearance, but pale with rage, and--" octave's narrative was at this point suddenly interrupted by tumultuous cries that proceeded from the pavilion. slaves were seen rushing out of the building with lighted torches in their hands, and immediately the shrill voice of charles himself was heard calling out: "to horse! my daughter thetralde has lost her way in the forest! she has not returned to the palace--and she is not here in the pavilion. take the torches--and to horse! to horse!" "amael, in the name of your grandson's welfare," whispered octave precipitately in the breton's ear, "follow me at a distance. there is just one chance left to us of saving vortigern from the emperor's rage." saying this, the young roman disappeared among the seigneurs of the court who were hastening towards their horses, while charles, whose rage, restrained for a moment, now exploded with renewed fierceness, screeched at them: "look at them, gaping open-mouthed, like a herd of startled sheep! let each one take a torch and follow one of the avenues of the forest, all the while calling out to my daughter as loud as he can. halloa there--let someone take up a torch and ride ahead of me!" at these words, octave seized a torch and approached the emperor, while other seigneurs rode rapidly off in several directions in search of the lost thetralde. the meaning of the hurried recommendation that octave had addressed to him a minute before flashed at this moment clear through amael's mind. mounting his horse at the same time that charles and the young roman who bore the torch did theirs, he allowed the two to take somewhat the lead of him, and then followed them at a distance, guided by the torch that octave held aloft. as octave later narrated to him, the emperor alternated between fits of rage, provoked by the freshest proof of the libertinage to which his daughters were addicted, and uneasiness at the disappearance of thetralde. these several sentiments were given vent to by broken words that from time to time reached the ears of the young roman who preceded charles by only a few paces. "my poor child!--where can she be?--perhaps dying of cold and fear--at the bottom of some thicket, perhaps!" murmured the emperor. presently he would call out at the top of his voice: "thetralde! thetralde! oh, she does not hear me! king of the heavens, have pity upon me. so young--so delicate--a chilly night like this is enough to kill her. oh, my unhappy old age, that this child might have served to console--she would not have resembled her sisters! her fifteen year forehead was never crimsoned with an evil thought. oh, dead! dead, perhaps! no, no--youth is full of pranks! besides, these daughters, all of whom i have brought up like boys, are all accustomed to fatigue. they accompany me during my long journeys. but yet, the night is so dark--and it is so chilly!" whereupon the emperor would again call out: "thetralde!" and suddenly reining in his horse and listening, the emperor of the franks broke the silence with the sudden question: "did you not hear a sound like the neighing of a horse?" "i did, august prince," answered the young roman. "listen! listen again!" octave kept silent. soon again the sound of distant neighing broke upon the stillness of the forest. "no doubt any longer. despairing of finding her way, my daughter must have tied her palfrey to a tree!" exclaimed the emperor, his heart bounding with hope. calling out to octave, he ordered: "gallop! gallop faster!" and himself increasing his own speed to the utmost cried out uninterruptedly: "thetralde! thetralde! thetralde, my daughter!" amael, who followed charles at a goodly distance, keeping himself well in the shadow, also fell into a gallop the moment he noticed the torchlight that guided him suddenly move with increased swiftness into the darkness. the emperor and octave were close upon the spot where, before entering the woodcutter's hut, vortigern and thetralde had tied their mounts. the glimmer of the torch fell upon and lighted the white body of thetralde's palfrey, throwing into the shade vortigern's horse that was tied a few steps further away. the emperor recognized his daughter's favorite mount, and cried out: "thetralde's palfrey!" and immediately thereupon perceiving the hut itself by the light of the torch borne by octave, he added: "oh, king of the heavens! thanks be to you!" the emperor quickly dismounted and walking precipitately towards the hut which lay about twenty paces from the path, he called back to octave: "walk faster! my daughter is there. precede me!" gifted with an eye even more piercing than charles', octave had recognized with a shudder the horse of vortigern close to thetralde's palfrey. foreseeing the outburst of fury that the emperor was about to fall into at the spectacle that octave surmised awaited his aged eyes, the roman resorted to an extreme measure. affecting to stumble, he dropped the torch in the hope of extinguishing it at his feet, as if by accident. but charles quickly stooped down, as quickly raised it and rushed forward towards the entrance of the hut. trembling with fear, the young roman followed closely behind the emperor. charles suddenly stood still as if petrified at the threshold of the hut, whose interior was now brilliantly lighted by the torch in the emperor's hand. having also dismounted, amael was enabled, without his steps being heard by charles, to draw nearer, and stood close to him at the very moment that, struck with stupor, the emperor of the franks stopped, motionless. profoundly asleep, and stretched out upon the floor with his unsheathed sword beside him, vortigern barred the entrance to the hut. in order to enter it, an intruder would have been compelled to walk over his body that lay across the threshold. in the depth of the retreat, stretched on a bed of moss and carefully wrapped in the lad's tunic, thetralde enjoyed a slumber as profound as her guardian at the entrance. the girl's head and face, charming in their candor, rested on one of her arms that lay folded beneath. so deep was the sleep of the two, that neither the young girl nor vortigern was at first awakened by the glare of the torch. thick drops of perspiration rolled down from the forehead of the emperor of the franks. the stupor that first seized him at finding his daughter in a solitary hut in the company of the young breton, was soon followed by an expression of undefinable agony. presently the cruel doubts concerning the chastity of his youngest daughter made room for hope when he noticed the serenity of the slumber of the two children. the emperor gathered additional comfort from the precaution that vortigern had taken in laying himself athwart the entrance, obedient, no doubt, to a thought of respectful and chivalrous solicitude. thetralde was the first to open her eyes. the glare of the torch fell upon her face. she half raised her head; still half asleep, carried her hand to her eyes, and sat up. in a second, seeing her father before her, she uttered a cry of such sincere joy, her charming features expressed a happiness so utterly free from all embarrassment, that, bounding to her father's neck, she was pressed by charles to his heart with delirious rapture: "oh!" the emperor exclaimed, "i fear naught, her forehead is free from shame." the words of the enraptured father reached the ears of amael, who had remained motionless behind the emperor, whose life was soon in no slight danger, seeing that, in her first and spontaneous outburst of joy to fall on her father's neck, thetralde had struck vortigern with her feet as she bounded forward. the young breton, thus awakened with a start, his eyes dazzled by the glare of the torch, and his mind still clouded with sleep, grasped his sword and jumped up. at the sight of the two men at the entrance of the hut, one of them tightly holding thetralde in his arms, the lad imagined that violence was being attempted upon her. he seized charles by the throat with one hand and, raising his sword in the other, cried: "i will kill you!" immediately, however, recognizing the father of thetralde, vortigern dropped his weapon, rubbed his eyes, and exclaimed: "the emperor of the franks!" "himself, my lad!" replied the emperor in a cheerful voice, while he again kissed the forehead and head of his daughter with almost frantic delight. "the vigor of your clutch proves to me that ill would he have fared who should have entertained any evil designs against my little girl!" "we are your enemies, and still you received my grandfather and myself with kindness," answered the young breton ingenuously and without lowering his eyes before the penetrating looks that charles shot at him. "i have watched over your daughter--as i should have watched over my own sister." vortigern emphasized the words 'my own sister' in such a manner that amael, fully sharing the confidence of charles, whispered at the latter's ear: "i have no doubt of the purity of these children." "and you here?" exclaimed the emperor astonished. "be welcome, my esteemed guest!" "you looked for your daughter--i also set out in search of my grandson." "and i have found her, the dear child!" exclaimed charles with ineffable tenderness, again and again kissing the forehead of thetralde. "oh, how i do love her--more than ever before!" and holding the girl close to his breast the emperor moved toward the interior of the hut, and threw himself down upon the moss-bench, broken with fatigue. there he seated thetralde upon his knees, and contemplating her with looks of unspeakable happiness, said: "come now, my little one, tell me all about your adventure. how did you lose track of the hunt? how did you resign yourself to spend the night in this hut?" "father," answered the girl, lowering her eyes and hiding her face on charles' breast, "let me collect my thoughts--i want to tell you all that happened, absolutely everything, without concealing aught." after a short interval that followed thetralde's answer, vortigern drew near amael, who tenderly pressed him to his heart, while, standing at a little distance, the torch in his hand lighting the scene, the young roman, it must be admitted, looked more astonished than enthusiastic at the continence of vortigern. "father," thetralde resumed, raising her head and attaching her candid looks upon the emperor of the franks, "i must tell you everything. not so? everything--absolutely everything?" "yes, my little darling, without omitting anything." but after a second's reflection, charles said to octave: "plant that torch in the ground, and watch our horses with this young lad." the roman bowed and obeyed; accompanied by amael's grandson he stepped out of the hut. "what, father, you send vortigern out?" remarked thetralde in an accent of sweet reproach. "i would on the contrary, have wished him to remain near us, in order to confirm or complete my story, my dear father." "all you tell me, my dear daughter, i shall believe. speak, speak without fear before me and the grandfather of the worthy lad." "yesterday," thetralde began, "i was on the balcony of the palace when vortigern rode into the courtyard. learning that he came hither as a prisoner, so young, and wounded, besides, i immediately took an interest in him. when shortly after, he came near being thrown from his horse, perhaps even killed, i was so frightened that i uttered a cry of dread. but when hildrude and myself saw that he proved himself an intrepid horseman, we threw our nose-gays to him." "you both told me how you admired the skilfulness of the lad's horsemanship, but you said nothing about the throwing of your bouquets. well, let us proceed--continue." "i certainly was very happy at your return home, good father. yet, i must confess to you, it seems to me that my thoughts turned as much on vortigern as on yourself. all night my sister and i talked about the young breton, about his gracefulness, about his comely face that was at once sweet and bold--" "that is all very well--that is all very well. let us skip all that, my daughter. let us drop the details concerning the lad's looks." "then you object, father, to my telling you all? he made a deep impression upon us." "let us come to the episode of the chase." "it was dawn before i fell asleep, but only to dream about vortigern. we saw him again at church. when i was not contemplating his bold and sweet face, i was praying for the safety of his soul. after mass, when i learned that there was to be a hunting party, my only fear was that he might not be one of the party. judge, then, of my joy, father, when i saw him in your retinue. suddenly his horse took fright and carried him off! before i could reflect i plied the whip upon my palfrey to join him. hildrude followed and tried to pass me. that irritated me. i struck her horse on the head. the animal bolted and carried her off in another direction. i was alone when i overtook vortigern. the mist, then the rain and thereupon the night fell upon us. we noticed this woodcutter's hut and a brasier that was almost extinct. we then said to each other: 'it is impossible to find our way back, let us spend the night here.' happily we noticed some chestnuts that had dropped on the ground from the trees. we gathered them, roasted them under the cinders--but we forgot to eat them--" "because, i suppose, you were both tired, no doubt--and, in order to take rest, you lay down on this moss-bench, and the lad across the threshold?" "oh, no, no, my father! before falling asleep we chatted a good deal, we disputed a good deal. it was due to our discussion that vortigern and myself forgot all about the chestnuts. thereupon sleep overtook us and we stretched ourselves to rest." "but what was the subject, my child, of the discussion between you and the lad?" "alack! i had wicked thoughts--those thoughts were combatted by vortigern with all his might. it was upon that that our dispute ran. but i must admit that, after all, he was right. you will never believe me. i wanted to flee from aix-la-chapelle and go to brittany with vortigern--to marry him." "to leave me--my daughter--abandon your father--me, who love you so much?" "those were the very arguments of vortigern. 'thetralde, dost thou think well,' he said to me, 'to leave thy father who loves thee? wouldst thou have the regrettable courage to cause him so deep a grief? and as to myself, whom, as well as my grandfather, he has treated with kindness, should i be thy accomplice? no! no! moreover, i am here a prisoner on parole. to flee would be to disgrace myself. my mother would refuse to see me.' 'thy mother loves thee too much not to pardon thee,' i said to vortigern; 'my father also will pardon me; he is so good! did he not show himself indulgent towards my sisters, who have their lovers as he has his mistresses? to love can neither hurt nor injure others. once married, we shall return to my father. happy at seeing us again, he will forget everything else, and we shall live near him as do eginhard and my sister imma.' but vortigern, ever inflexible, returned incessantly upon his word as a prisoner and the grief that his flight would cause his mother and grandfather. his warm tears mingled with mine as he consoled and chide me for the child that i was. finally, after our dispute had lasted a long while, and we had wept a good deal, he said to me: 'thetralde, it is now late; thou surely must feel fatigued; thou shouldst lie down on this bed of moss; i shall lay myself across the entrance with my bare sword at my side, to defend thee, if need be.' i did begin to feel sleepy; vortigern covered me with his tunic; i fell asleep and was dreaming about him when i was awakened by you, my father." the emperor of the franks listened to the naã¯ve recital with a mixture of tenderness, apprehension and grief. at its close he heaved a sigh of profound relief that seemed to issue from the silent reflection: "what a danger did not my daughter escape!" this thought soon dominated all the others that crowded to his mind. charles again embraced thetralde effusively, and said: "dear child, your candor charms me. it makes me forget that even for a moment you could entertain the thought of running away from your father, which would have been a mean thing to do." "oh! vortigern made me renounce the wicked project. and, now, as a reward to him, you will be good, you will marry us, will you not, father?" "we shall talk later about that. for the present we must think of regaining the pavilion, where you will rest awhile. we shall depart to aix-la-chapelle. stay here a moment i have a few words to exchange with this good old man." charles stepped out of the hut with amael, and as soon as they were a few paces away, he turned towards the aged breton with a radiant face on which, however, deep concern was depicted: "your grandson is a loyal lad; yours is a family of worthy and brave people. you saved my grandfather's life; your grandson has respected the honor of my daughter. i know but too well the dangers that lie, at the age of these children, in the wake of the first impulse of love. had vortigern yielded, he would have had to pay for it with his life. i am happy and by far prefer to praise than to punish." "charles, when a few hours ago i expressed to you my uneasiness concerning vortigern's absence, you answered me: 'good! he will have run across some pretty woodcutter's daughter. love is meet for his years. you do not mean to make a monk of the lad?' what, now, if he had treated your daughter like a woodcutter's child?" "by the king of the heavens! vortigern would not have left the hut alive!" "accordingly, it is permissible to dishonor the daughter of a slave, and yet shall the dishonor of the daughter of an emperor be punished with death? both are the children of god, alike in his eyes. why the difference in your mind?" "old man, these words are senseless!" "you pretend to be a christian, and you treat us as pagans! my grandson has conducted himself like an honest man; that is all. honor is dear to us gauls of old armorica, whose device is: _never did breton commit treason._ will you render me a favor? i shall be eternally grateful to you." "speak! what do you wish of charles?" "a short while ago you seemed struck with the beauty of a poor slave girl. you mean to make her one of your concubines. be magnanimous towards the unhappy creature; do not corrupt her; render their freedom to her and her family; give those people the means to live industriously and honorably." "it shall be so, by the faith of charles; i promise you. besides, i consent to withdraw my troops from your country, provided you pledge to me your faith as a breton that, during my life, you will not make any incursions beyond your own frontiers. give me your hand, amael--your loyal hand in sign of acceptance." "here it is, charles," promptly answered amael, grasping the hand proffered by the emperor. "let it be the hand of a traitor, and that it fall under the axe if our people break the promise! we shall live at peace with you. if your descendants respect our liberties, we shall live at peace with them." "amael, it is sworn!" "charles, it is accepted and sworn!" "instead of returning to aix-la-chapelle, you and your grandson shall spend the night in the pavilion of the forest. to-morrow, at early daybreak, i shall have your baggage forwarded to you, together with an escort, charged to accompany you as far as the frontiers of armorica. you shall depart without delay." "your directions will be followed to the letter." "i shall now return to the pavilion alone with my daughter. i shall tell my courtiers that i found her in the hut. alack! the calumnies of the court are cruel. people will not believe in the innocence of thetralde, and if, besides, they should learn that she spent a part of the night with your grandson in that obscure retreat, they will take for granted all that they now impute to her sisters. oh! my father's heart bleeds strangely. i have loved my daughters too much. i have been too indulgent towards them! and then also, my continuous wars beyond my own kingdom, together with the affairs of state, have prevented me from watching over my children. and yet, during my absence, i always left them in the charge of priests. neither were they left idle; they embroidered chasubles for the bishops! but, it seems that our lord god, who has ever and otherwise stood at my side, has willed it so, that i be struck in my family. his will be done! i am an unhappy father!" charles thereupon called to the roman: "octave, nobody--do you understand me, nobody--must know that my daughter spent a part of the night in this hut with that young man. evil tongues do not spare even the chastest and most admirable souls. the secret of this night is known only by me, my daughter, and these two bretons. i am as certain of their discretion as of my own and thetralde's. you are lost if but a word of this adventure circulates at court. it is from you alone that it can have proceeded. if, on the contrary, you help me to keep the secret, you may rely upon increasing favors from me." "august emperor, i shall carry that secret with me into my grave." "i rely upon it. fetch me my horse and my daughter's. you are to accompany us to the hunting pavilion, and thence to aix-la-chapelle. i will place you in command of the escort that i give these two hostages to return to their own country. i shall furnish you with an order to the commander of my army in brittany. you will start to-morrow, early, with the escort to the pavilion of the forest, and you will thence depart for armorica." octave bowed, and the emperor proceeded, addressing amael: "the moon has risen. it sheds sufficient light upon the route. jump upon your horse, with your grandson. follow this avenue of trees until you reach a clearing. wait there. you will shortly be sent for. i shall despatch my messengers to take you to the pavilion, where you are to stay until your departure early to-morrow morning. and now, adieu!" amael returned to his grandson, whom he found in a deep study, seated on the stump of a tree that bordered the route. the lad was silently weeping with his face hidden in his hands, and heard not the steps of his grandfather approaching him. "come, my boy," said amael to him in a mild and grave voice. "let us to horse, and depart." "depart!" exclaimed vortigern, with a tremor, rising impetuously to his feet and wiping with his hand the tears that moistened his face. "yes, my boy! to-morrow we start for brittany, where you will see again your mother and sister. the nobility of your conduct has borne its fruit. we are free. charles recalls his troops from brittany." * * * * * shortly after our return home from aix-la-chapelle, my grandfather, amael, wrote the above narrative, which i have faithfully joined to the preceding ones of our family. myself, vortigern, buried my grandfather not long after at the ripe age of one hundred and five years, shortly after my own marriage with the loving josseline. charles the great died at aix-la-chapelle in the year 814. part ii. the conquest of brittany chapter i. in the black mountains. in the year 818, seven years after amael and his grandson vortigern left the court of charles, the emperor of the franks, to return to their home in brittany, three riders, accompanied by a footman, were one evening painfully climbing one of the steep hills of the ridge of the black mountains, that raise their rugged ribs to the southwest of armorica. when, having reached the top of the rocky pile over which the path wound its way, the travelers looked below, they saw at their feet a long chain of plains and hillocks, some covered with rye and wheat ready for the harvesters, others running northward like vast carpets of heather. here and yonder, vast moors also were perceived stretching out as far as the eye could follow. a few straggling villages, reached by an avenue of trees, raised the roofs of their houses in the midst of impassible bogs that served for natural defences. the panorama was enlivened by herds of black sheep that browsed over the ruddy heath or the green valleys, watered by innumerable running streams. among the green were also seen steers and cows, and especially a large number of horses of the breton stock, strong for the plow, fiery in war. the three riders, preceded by the footman, now proceeded to descend the further slope of the rugged hill. one of the three, clad in ecclesiastical robes, was witchaire, considered one of the richest abbots of gaul. the vast lands of his almost royal abbey bordered on the frontiers of armorica. his two companions, on horseback like himself, were monks belonging to his dependency, and both wore the garb of the religious order of st. benoit. the two monks rode behind the abbot at a little distance, leading between them a packsaddle mule loaded with the baggage of their superior, a man of short stature, sharp eye, and a smile that was at times pious, at other times cunning. the mountain guide, a robust, thick-set man in the vigor of life, wore the antique costume of the breton gauls--wide breeches of cloth held at the waist by a leather belt, a jacket of wool, and, hanging from his shoulders on the same side with his wallet, a cloak of goat-skin, although the season was summer. his hair, only partly covered with a woolen cap, fell over his shoulders. from time to time he leaned upon his _pen-bas_, a long staff made of holly and terminating in a crook. the burning august sun, now at its hottest, darted its rays upon the guide, the two monks and abbot witchaire. reining in his horse, the latter said to the guide: "the heat is suffocating; these granite rocks radiate it upon us as hot as if they issued from a furnace; our mounts are exhausted. i decry yonder, at our feet, a thick forest; could you not lead us to it? we could then take rest in the shade." karouer, the guide, shook his head, and answered, pointing with his _pen-bas_ in the direction of the dense woods: "to reach them we would have to make a leap of two hundred feet, or a circuit of nearly three leagues over the mountains. which shall it be?" "let us, then, pursue our route, my trusty guide. but tell us how long will it take us to arrive in the valley of lokfern?" "look yonder, below, away below, close to the horizon. do you see the last of those bluish crests? that is the menez-c'hom, the highest peak of the black mountains. the other peak towards the west, and lying somewhat nearer, is lach-renan. it is between those two peaks that lies the valley of lokfern, where morvan, the husbandman and chief of brittany lives." "are you certain that he will be at his farm-house?" "a husbandman always returns to his farm-house after sunset. we shall find him there." "do you know morvan personally?" "i am of his tribe. i fought under him at the time of our last struggles against the franks, when charles, the emperor, lived." "is this morvan married, do you know?" "his wife noblede is the worthy spouse of morvan. she is of the stock of joel. that says everything. we honor and venerate her." "who is that joel, whom you mentioned?" "one of the worthiest men, whose memory armorica has preserved green. his daughter, hena, the virgin of the isle of sen, offered her own life in sacrifice for the safety of gaul when the romans invaded these parts." "i have been told that your people apprehend an invasion of the franks in brittany, and that you are making ready for a declaration of war from louis the pious, son of the great charles." "have you seen any preparations for war since you crossed our frontier?" "i have seen the husbandmen in the fields, the shepherds leading their flocks, the cities open and tranquil. but it is known that in your country, woodmen, husbandmen, shepherds and town folks transform themselves into soldiers at a moment's notice." "yes, when our country is threatened with invasion." "and do you apprehend such an invasion?" karouer looked at the abbot fixedly, smiled sarcastically, made no answer, whistled, and presently broke out into a breton song, mechanically whirling his _pen-bas_ as he strode rapidly forward in the lead of the three monks. night drew on. karouer and the dignitaries whom he guided, having been all day on the march, were now approaching one of the highest points on the mountain path that they had been following, when, struck by an unexpected spectacle, witchaire suddenly reined in his horse. the sight that took the abbot by surprise was, indeed, startling. a flame, hardly distinguishable by reason of its great distance, and yet perceptible on the horizon, whose outlines the dusk had not yet wholly blotted out, had barely arrested his attention, when, almost instantaneously, similar tongues of fire gradually shot up from the distant tops of the long chain of the black mountains. the fires gained in brilliancy and size in the measure that they broke out nearer and nearer to the spot where the abbot stood. suddenly, only twenty paces away from him, the startled prelate perceived a bluish gleam through a dense smoke. the gleam speedily changed into a brilliant flame, that, shooting upwards toward the starry sky, spread a light so bright that the abbot, his monks, his guide, the rocks round about and a good portion of the crag of the mountain stood illumined as if at noon. a few minutes later similar bonfires continued to be kindled from hill to hill, tracing back, as it seemed, the route that the travelers had left behind, and losing themselves in the distance in the evening haze. the abbot remained mute with stupefaction. karouer emitted three times a gutteral and loud cry resembling that of a night bird. a similar cry, proceeding from behind the plateau of rocks where the nearest bonfire was burning, responded to the signal from karouer. "what fires are these that are springing up from hill-top to hill-top?" the abbot inquired with intense curiosity the moment he recovered from his astonishment. "it must be some signal." "at this moment," answered karouer, "similar fires are burning from all the hill-tops of armorica, from the mountains of arres to the black mountains and the ocean." "but to what purpose?" as was his wont, karouer made no answer to such pointed interrogatories, but striking up some breton song, quickened his steps, while he whirled his _pen-bas_ in the air. chapter ii. the breton chief. the home of morvan, the husbandman, who was chosen chief of the chiefs of brittany, was located about the middle of the valley of lokfern, and nestled among the last spurs of the black mountains. a strong system of palisades, constructed of tough trunks of oak fastened together by means of stout cross-beams, and raised on the near side of deep ditches, defended the approaches of the farm-house. outside of the fortified enclosure, a forest of centenarian oaks extended to the north and east; to the south, green meadows sloped gently towards the windings of a swift running river that was bordered with beeches and alders. the house of morvan, its contiguous barns, kennels and stables, had the rough exterior of the gallic structures of olden days. a sort of rustic porch shaded the main entrance to the house. under this porch, and enjoying the close of the delightful summer day, were noblede, the spouse of morvan, and josseline, the young wife of vortigern. the latter, a radiant woman of smiling beauty, was suckling her latest born, with her other two children, ewrag and rosneven, respectively four and five years of age, at her side. caswallan, a christian druid, an aged man of venerable appearance, whose beard vied in whiteness with his long robe, smiled tenderly upon little ewrag, whom he held on his knees. noblede, morvan's wife and sister of vortigern, now about thirty years of age, was a woman of rare comeliness, although her features bore the stamp of a rooted sadness. ten years a wife, noblede had not yet tasted the sweets of motherhood. her grave aspect and her high stature recalled those matrons, who, in the days of gaul's independence, sat loyally by the side of their husbands at the supreme councils of the nation.[c] noblede and josseline were spinning, while the other women and daughters of morvan's household busied themselves with the preparations for the evening meal, or in the other domestic occupations, such as replenishing with forage the stalls that the cattle were to find ready upon their return from the fields. the christian druid caswallan, with ewrag, the second child of the blonde josseline, on his knees, had just finished making the boy recite his lesson in religion under the following symbolic forms: "white child of the druid, answer me, what shall i tell you?" "tell me the parts of the number three," the child would answer, "make them known to me, that i may learn them to-day." "there are three parts of the world--three beginnings and three ends to man as to the oak--three celestial kingdoms, fruits of gold, brilliant flowers and little children who laugh. these three kingdoms, where the fruits of gold, the brilliant flowers and the children who laugh are found, my little ewrag, are the worlds in which those, who in this world have performed pure and celestial acts, will be successively born again and will continue to live with ever increasing happiness. now, what must we be in order to perform such acts?" "we must be wise, good and just," the child would reply. "furthermore death must not be feared, because we are born again and again, from world to world with an ever renewed body. we must love brittany like a tender mother--and bravely defend her against her enemies." "yes, my child," broke in noblede, drawing her brother's child to herself. "always remember those sacred words: 'to love and defend brittany';" and morvan's wife tenderly embraced ewrag. "mother! mother!" cried up little rosneven, joyfully clapping his hands and rushing out of the porch followed by his brother ewrag: "here is father!" caswallan, noblede and josseline rose at the gladsome cries of the child and walked out towards two large wagons heavily laden with golden sheaves, and drawn by a yoke of oxen. morvan and vortigern were seated in front of one of the wagons surrounded by a considerable number of men and lads belonging to the household, or to the tribe of the chief of the chiefs, carrying in their hands the sickles, the forks and the rakes used by the harvesters. at a little distance behind them came the shepherds with their flocks whose bells were heard clinking from the distance. morvan, in the vigor of life, robust and thick-set, like most of the inhabitants of the black mountains, wore their rustic garb--wide breeches of coarse white material, and a linen shirt that exposed his sunburnt chest and neck. his long hair, auburn like his thick beard, framed his manly face. his forehead was high; his eyes intrepid and piercing. as to vortigern, the maturer gravity of manhood, of husband and father, had succeeded the flower of youth. his looks were expressive of sweet delight at the sight of the two boys who had ran out to meet him. he jumped down from the wagon and embraced them affectionately while he looked for his wife and sister, who, accompanied by caswallan, were not long in joining him. "dear wife, the harvest will be plentiful," said morvan to noblede, and pointing to the overloaded wagons, he added: "have you ever seen more beautiful wheat, or more golden sheaves? look at them and wonder!" "morvan," put in josseline, "you are this year harvesting earlier than customary. we, of the region of karnak would leave our wheat to ripen on the stalk fully two weeks longer. not so, vortigern?" "no, my sweet josseline," answered her husband, "i shall follow morvan's example. we shall return home to-morrow, so as to start taking in the harvest as soon as possible." "i am going to furnish you with still more matter for astonishment," morvan proceeded. "instead of leaving the sheaves in the barn that the grain may ripen, this wheat that you see there, and that was cropped only to-day, will be threshed this very night. vortigern and myself will not be the only ones to ply the flails on the threshing-floor of the barn. so, then, noblede, let us have supper early, and then to work!" "what, morvan!" exclaimed josseline, "after this tiring day's work, spent in gathering in the crop, do you and vortigern mean to spend the night at work, and threshing, at that?" "it will be a cheerful night, my josseline," put in vortigern. "while we shall be threshing the wheat, you will sing us some songs, caswallan will recite to us some old legend, and we shall stave in a barrel of hydromel to cheer the laborers who have come to join us. work goes hand in hand with pleasure." "vortigern," the christian druid said, smiling, "do you, perchance, think that my arms are so much enfeebled by old age that i could no longer wield a flail? i mean to help you at work." "and we?" put in josseline, laughing merrily, "we, the daughters and wives of the field-laborers, did we, perchance, lose the skill of carrying the wheat to the threshing-floor, or of bagging the grain?" "and we?" ewrag and his brother rosneven cried in turn, "could not we also carry a stalk, six stalks, twenty stalks?" "oh! you are brave boys, my little ones," exclaimed vortigern, embracing his children, while morvan said to his wife: "noblede, do not forget to have the guest's chamber in order and supplied with food." "do you expect any guests, morvan?" inquired josseline, with great curiosity. "they will be welcome; they will assist us at the threshing to-night." "my beloved josseline," answered the chief of the chiefs, smiling, "the guests whom i expect eat the choicest of wheat, but never take the trouble of either sowing or harvesting. they belong to a class of people who live on the fat of the land." "the guest's chamber is always ready," replied noblede; "the floor is strewn with fresh leaves. alack! no one occupied it since it was last occupied by amael." "worthy grandfather!" exclaimed vortigern with a sigh. "he came to us only to languish a few weeks and pass away." "may his memory be blessed, as was his life," said josseline. "i knew him only a very short while, but i loved and venerated him like my father." the family of morvan, together with the rest of his tribe who cultivated his lands in common with himself, men, women and children, about thirty in all, presently sat down to a long table, placed in a large hall that served at once for kitchen, refectory and a place of assembly during the long nights of the winter. from the walls hung weapons of war and of the hunt, fishing nets, bridles and horse saddles. although it was midsummer, such was the coolness of that region of woods and mountains, that the heat of the hearth, before which the meats for the supper were broiled, felt decidedly comfortable to the harvesters. its flamboyant light mingled with that cast by the torches of resinous wood, that were fastened in iron clamps along the four walls. after the industrious group had finished their repast, morvan was the first to rise. "and now, my boys, to work! the night is clear, we shall thresh the wheat on the outside floor. two or three torches planted between the stones on the edge of the well will give us light until the moon rises. we shall be through with our task by one o'clock in the morning, we shall sleep until daybreak, and we shall then return to the fields and finish taking in the crop." the torches, placed at morvan's orders around the edge of the well, cast their bright light upon a portion of the yard and buildings that were within the fortified enclosure. several men, the women and the children, took a hand in unloading the wagons, while those who were to do the threshing, morvan, vortigern and the old caswallan among them, stood waiting for the grain to be brought to them, their flails in their hands, having for the sake of comfort, stripped themselves of all their superfluous clothing and keeping only their breeches and shirts on. the first bundles of grain were placed in the center of the floor, whereupon the rapid rhythm of the flails, vigorously wielded by robust and experienced arms, resounded through the air. apprehending a speedy war, the bretons were hastening to take in their crops and place them under cover in order to save them from the ravages of the enemy, as well as to deprive these of food. the grains were to be concealed in underground caves covered with earth. morvan, whose forehead began to be moistened with perspiration, said, while rapidly handling the flail: "caswallan, you promised us a song. take a little rest and sing. it will inspire us in our work." the christian druid sang "lez-breiz," an old national song that ever sounded sweet on the ears of the bretons. it began thus: "between a frankish warrior and lez-breiz a combat was arranged; it was arranged with due formalities.- may god give the victory to the breton, and gladsome tidings to his county.- that day lez-breiz said to his young attendant: rise, furbish up my handsome casque; my lance and my sword; i mean to redden them in the blood of the franks.- i shall make them jump this day!" "old caswallan," said one of the laborers when the druid had finished the long and inspiring strain that warmed the blood of his hearers with martial ardor, "let the accursed franks come again, and we shall say, like lez-breiz: 'with the aid of our two arms, let us make them jump again to-day'--" a furious barking of the shepherd dogs, that for some little time had been emitting low and intermittent growls, interrupted at this moment the remarks of the laborers, and all turned their eyes towards the gate of the enclosure, whither the dogs had precipitated themselves furiously. chapter iii. abbot and breton. the strangers whose approach the dogs announced were abbot witchaire, his two monks and his guide karouer. preceded by the guide, who pacified the alarm of the watchful animals, the clerical cavalcade rode into the enclosure, while karouer informed the abbot: "this is the house of morvan. we have arrived at our destination. you may now dismount." "what are those torches yonder for?" asked the prelate descending from his horse, the reins of which he threw over to one of his monks. "what is that muffled sound i hear?" "it is the sound of the flails. doubtlessly morvan is threshing the grain that he has harvested. come, i shall lead you to him." abbot witchaire and his guide approached the group of laborers, upon whom the torches cast a clear light. morvan, intently at work, and the noise of the flails deafening the sound of the steps and voices of the new arrivals, failed to hear them. not until karouer had tapped the chief of the chiefs upon the shoulder in order to draw the latter's attention to him, did morvan turn to look. recognizing karouer, the chief of the chiefs stopped a moment and said: "oh! is that you, karouer? what tidings do you bring from our man?" "i bring him to you in person," answered karouer, pointing to his traveling companion. "he stands before you in flesh and bone." "are you the abbot witchaire?" asked morvan, slightly out of breath with the heavy work that he had been performing; and crossing his robust arms over the handle of his flail, he added: "as i expected your visit, i have had supper prepared for you. come to table." "i prefer first to speak to you." "noblede," said morvan, wiping the perspiration that inundated his forehead with the back of his hand, "a torch, my dear wife!" and turning to the abbot: "follow me." taking up one of the torches that were stuck at the edge of the well, noblede preceded her husband and abbot witchaire to the chamber that was reserved for guests. two large beds stood ready, as also a big table furnished with cold meats, milk, bread and fruit. after placing the torch into one of the iron clamps fastened in the wall, noblede was about to withdraw when morvan said to her in a significant tone: "dear wife, come and kiss me good night when the threshing is done." a look from noblede informed her husband that he was understood, and she stepped out of the guest's chamber where morvan remained alone with abbot witchaire. the abbot immediately addressed the chief of the chiefs: "morvan, i greet you. i am the bearer to you of a message from the king of the franks, louis the pious, son of charles the great." "and what is that message?" "it is couched in but few words:--the bretons occupy a province of the empire of the king of the franks, and refuse to pay him tribute in homage to his sovereignty. besides, the breton clergy, generally infected with a leaven of old druidic idolatry, denies the supremacy of the archbishop of tours. such are the consequences of that regrettable heresy, of which lambert, count of nantes, wrote to king louis the pious as follows: 'the breton nation is proud and indomitable; all that there is christian about them is the name; as to the christian faith, its cult and works, they would be searched for in vain in brittany.' wishing to put an end to a rebellion so outrageous both to the catholic church and the royal authority, king louis the pious orders the breton people to pay the tribute that they owe to the sovereignty of the frankish empire, and to submit themselves to the apostolic decisions of the archbishop of tours. in case of failure to comply, king louis the pious will, by means of his invincible arms, ruin the country and compel the obedience of the breton people." "abbot witchaire," morvan answered after a few moments' reflection, "amael, the grandfather of vortigern, my wife's brother, entered into an agreement with the emperor charles to the effect that, provided we held ourselves within our own borders, there never would be any war between us and the franks. we kept our promise, so did charles. his son, whom you call 'the pious,' has not troubled us until now. if to-day he demands tribute from us, he violates the provisions of the compact." "louis the pious is king by divine right, sovereign master of gaul. brittany is part of gaul, consequently brittany belongs to him and must pay him tribute." "we will pay tribute to no king. as to what regards the clergy, i have this to say to you: before their arrival in brittany the country never was invaded. since a century ago, all that has changed. it was to be expected. whoever sees the black robe of a priest, soon sees the glint of a frank's sword." "you speak truly. the catholic priest is everywhere the precursor of royalty." "we now have but too many of these precursors. despite their continuous quarrels with the archbishop of tours, the good priests are rare, the bad ones numerous. at the time of the last war, several of your churchmen acted as guides to the franks, while others seduced some of our tribes into treason by making them believe that to resist your kings was to incur the anger of heaven. despite such acts of treason, we defended our liberty then; we will defend it again both against the machinations of the clergy and the swords of the franks." "morvan, you look like a sensible man. is it proposed to enslave you? no! to dispossess you of your lands? no! what is it that louis the pious demands? merely that you pay him tribute in homage to his sovereignty. nothing more!" "that is too much--and it is iniquitous!" "consider the frightful misfortunes to which brittany will expose herself if she refuses to acknowledge the sovereignty of louis the pious. can you prefer to see your fields laid waste, your crops destroyed, your cattle led away, your own house torn down, your fellows reduced to slavery--can you prefer that to the voluntary payment of a few gold sous contributed by you into the treasury of the king of the franks?" "i certainly would prefer to pay even twenty gold sous, rather than be ruined." "it is not merely your own earthly possessions that are at stake. you have a wife, a family, friends. would you, out of vain pride, expose so many beings, dear to your heart, to the horrible dangers of war, of a war of extermination, of a war without mercy, all the more when, as you must admit, you can no longer find in the breton people the indomitable spirit that once was its distinctive feature?" "no," answered morvan with a somber and pensive mien, his elbows resting on his knees and his forehead hidden in his hands; "no, the breton people are no longer what they once were." "to my mind, the change is one of the triumphs of the catholic church. in your eyes it is an evil. but, if evil it be, it is a fact, and you are bound to recognize it. brittany, once invincible, has been several times invaded by the franks during the last century. what has happened before will happen again. and yet, notwithstanding the mistrust that you entertain of your own powers of resistance, notwithstanding the certainty of succumbing, could you still wish to engage in the struggle in lieu of paying a tribute that curtails in nothing, either your own liberty or that of your people?" shaken by the insidious arguments of the priest, morvan remained silent for a moment; after a short struggle with himself, he asked: "how high will be the tribute that your king demands?" witchaire thrilled with joy at morvan's question. he concluded the breton had decided in favor of base submission. at that juncture noblede entered the apartment to give her husband the good-night kiss. at sight of her the breton blushed. he allowed his wife to approach him without affectionately advancing to meet her, as was his wont. the breton woman almost guessed the cause of the embarrassed manner of morvan, and of the triumphant looks of the frankish abbot. concealing her grief, the woman walked to her husband, who remained seated, and kissed his hand. a tremor shook the breton chief's frame; his will, shaken for a moment, regained its own command; he leaped up and passionately clasped his wife to his breast. happy and proud at feeling the throbbing of her own heart answered by her husband's, the gallic woman cried, casting a look of contempt at the priest: "whence comes this stranger? what does he want? is he a messenger of peace or of war? race of priests, race of vipers." "this monk is sent by the king of the franks," answered the breton chief; "i do not yet know whether he brings peace or war." noblede looked at her husband with increasing astonishment, when the abbot, considering the moment favorable to obtain the desired answer from morvan, said: "i am to return immediately. what answer shall i carry to louis the pious?" "you cannot resume your journey without taking some rest," noblede hastened to observe, while, with her eyes, she interrogated her husband, who seemed to have relapsed into incertitude. "it will be time enough to depart early in the morning. remain here over night to recover your strength." "no, no!" exclaimed the abbot with impatience, fearing the influence of the gallic woman upon her husband. "i return immediately. shall i take to louis the pious words of peace or of war? i must have a categoric answer." the breton chief, however, rose from his seat, and walking towards the door of the apartment answered witchaire: "i shall use the few remaining hours of the night to think the matter over; to-morrow you will have my answer." saying this, and despite the insistence of the abbot upon an immediate answer, morvan left the guest's room, accompanied by noblede. a few minutes later, morvan, his wife, vortigern and caswallan, assembled at a secluded spot, under the spreading branches of a tall oak tree not far from the house, to consider the subject of abbot witchaire's errand to brittany. "what does this messenger of the king of the franks want?" asked vortigern of morvan. "if we consent to pay tribute to louis the pious and to recognize him as our sovereign, we shall escape an implacable war. i know not what answer to make. i hesitate before the prospect of the disasters that will attend a new struggle--the massacres, the fires." "hesitate! yield to threats!" "brother," answered morvan with deep sadness, "the breton people are no longer what they once were." "you are right!" put in caswallan. "the breath of the catholic church, so deadly to the freedom of the people, has passed over this unhappy country also. the patriotism of a large number of our tribes has cooled. but, on the other hand, should you consent to submit to a shameful peace, then brittany will be peopled with slaves before a century shall have rolled away." "brother," added vortigern, "would you yield to threats, instead of reviving the spirit of brittany in a sacred war against the foreigner? that would be to debase ourselves forever! to-day we would pay tribute to the king of the franks, in order to avoid a war; to-morrow we would have to yield to him one-half of our patrimony, in order that he may allow us to retain the rest; after that we would have to submit to slavery with all its degradation and wretchedness, in order to be allowed to preserve our lives. the chain will have been riveted to our limbs, and our children will have to drag it during all the centuries to come!" "unhappy brittany!" exclaimed noblede. "have we fallen so low as to begin to measure the length of our chains? look at these three brave, wise and tried men, wasting their time in discussing the insolence of a frankish king! there is but one word you can answer with--war! oh, degenerate gauls! eight centuries ago, caesar, the greatest captain of the world, and at the head of a formidable army, also sent messengers to summon brittany to pay him tribute. the roman messengers were answered with a beating, and chased with contempt out of the city of vannes. that same evening, hena, our ancestress, offered her blood to hesus for the deliverance of gaul, and the cry of war resounded from one end of the country to the other! albinik the sailor, together with his wife meroã«, performed a journey of more than twenty leagues across the most fertile regions of gaul, but then burnt down by a conflagration that the people themselves had kindled. caesar saw before him only a waste of smouldering ruins, and on the day of the battle of vannes our whole family--women and young girls, children and old men--fought or died like heroes! oh! these ancestors of ours worried their heads little about the 'dangers of battle'! to live free or die--such was their simple faith, and they sealed it with their blood, and winged their flight to those unknown worlds where they continue to live!" noblede was addressing morvan, vortigern and caswallan in these terms, when the abbot, who had left his apartment and inquired after morvan from the people about the house, approached the oak under which the breton family was in council. although the moon was shining in all her splendor, the first glimmerings of the dawn, always early in the end of august, already began to crimson the horizon. "morvan," said abbot witchaire, "day is about to dawn. i can wait no longer. what is your answer to the messenger of louis the pious?" "priest, my answer will not burden your memory: return and tell the king that we will pay him tribute--in iron." "you want war! very well, you shall have it without mercy or pity!" cried the abbot furiously, and leaping on his horse which the monks held ready for him he added, turning again to the chief of the chiefs: "brittany will be laid waste with fire and sword! not a house will be left standing! the last day of this people has arrived!" as the priest uttered these words, his gestures seemed to call down curses and anathemas upon the breton chief. angrily putting the spurs to his horse and followed by the two monks, the prelate rode rapidly away. the abbot had hardly been a quarter of an hour on the road, when he heard the gallop of an approaching horse behind him. turning, he saw a rider coming towards him at full speed. it was vortigern. the abbot drew in his reins, yielding to a last ray of hope. "may your coming be propitious. morvan regrets, i hope, the insensate resolution that he took?" "morvan regrets that in your hurry you and your two monks should have departed without a guide. you might easily lose your way in our mountains. i am to accompany you as far as the city of guenhek. there i shall furnish you with a safe guide for the rest of the journey; he will take you to our frontiers." "young man, you are, i am told, the brother of morvan's wife. i conjure you, in the name of the safety of brittany, to endeavor to change the insensate and fatal resolution of this man who happens to be the chief of your nation." "monk, the fires lighted last night on our mountains, and which, no doubt, you must have seen, were the signals of alarm, given to our tribes to prepare for war. your king wants war--let his will be done. but, now, answer me a question. you come from the court at aix-la-chapelle. could you tell me what has become of the daughters of the emperor charles?" the abbot cast a look of surprise at vortigern: "what is it to you what may have become of the emperor's daughters?" "it is now about eight years ago that i accompanied my grandfather to aix-la-chapelle. i there saw the daughters of charles. that is the reason for my curiosity concerning them." "the daughters of charles have been consigned to nunneries by order of their brother, louis the pious,"[d] was the sententious answer of witchaire. "may they, by dint of repentance, merit the pardon of heaven for their past and abominable libertinage." "and thetralde, the youngest of charles' daughters, did she share the fate of her sisters?" "thetralde died long ago." "she died!" exclaimed vortigern, unable to conceal his emotion. "poor child! so beautiful--and to die so young!" "she, at least, never gave charles cause to blush." "and what was the cause of the death of that child? could you tell me?" "it is not known. up to her fifteenth year she enjoyed a nourishing health. suddenly she began to languish, grew ill, and barely in her sixteenth year, her light went out, in the arms of her father, who never ceased weeping for her. but this is quite enough about the daughters of charles the great. once more, will you or will you not, endeavor to cause morvan to abandon a resolution that can have for its only effect the ruin of this country? you are silent--do you refuse?" absorbed in the thoughts that the fate of the ill-starred thetralde had started in his mind, vortigern remained mute and melancholy. his thoughts flew to the young girl who died so young, and the touching remembrance of whom had long remained alive with him. impatient at the prolonged silence of the breton, the abbot put his hand on vortigern's shoulder, and repeated his question: "i ask you, yes or no, will you endeavor to cause morvan to renounce his insensate resolution?" "your king wants war; he shall have war." and vortigern, relapsing into his own meditations, rode silently beside witchaire until the two reached the city of guenhek. there vortigern entrusted the guidance of the abbot to an experienced guide, and while the messenger of louis the pious proceeded towards the frontier of brittany, the brother of noblede hastened back and rejoined his wife josseline at the house of morvan. chapter iv. the defile of glen-clan. the defile of glen-clan is the only practicable passage across the last links of the black mountains--a mountain chain that constitutes a veritable girdle of granite as a natural protection to the heart of brittany. the defile of glen-clan is so narrow that a wagon can barely thread it; it is so steep that six yoke of oxen are barely able to drag a wagon up its craggy incline, from the top of which a stone of considerable size would roll rapidly down to the bottom of the pass--a pass cut, like the bed of a mountain torrent, at the feet of immense rocks that rise on either side perpendicular over a hundred feet in the air. a distant rumbling noise, confused at first, and becoming more and more distinct as it draws nearer and nearer, disturbs one day, shortly after the angry departure of abbot witchaire from brittany, the otherwise profound silence of the solitude. by little and little the dull tramp of cavalry is distinguished; presently also the clanking of iron arms upon iron armor, and finally the rythmic tread of large troops of foot soldiers, the lumbering of wagon wheels jolting upon the stony ground, the neighing of horses and the bellowing of yoke-oxen. all these various sounds draw nearer, grow louder, and are finally blended into one steady roar. they announce the approach of an army corps of considerable proportions. suddenly the mournful and prolonged cry of a night bird is heard from the crest of the rocks that overhang the defile. other similar, but more distant cries answer the first signal, like an echo that loses itself in the distance. silence ensues thereupon--except for the tumultuous din of the advancing army corps. a small troop appears at the entrance of the tortuous passage; a monk on horseback guides the scouting party. at the monk's side rides a warrior of tall stature, clad in rich armor. his white buckler, on which three eagle's talons are designed, hangs to one side from the pommel of his saddle, while an iron mace dangles from the other. behind the frankish chief ride several cavalrymen accompanied by about a score of saxon archers, distinguishable by their long quivers. "hugh," says the chief of the warriors to one of his men, "take with you two horsemen, and let five or six archers precede you to make certain that there is no ambush to fear. at the slightest sign of an attack fall back upon us and give the alarm. i do not wish to entangle the gross of my troop in this defile without the necessary precautions." hugh obeys his chief. the little vanguard quickens its step and soon disappears beyond one of the windings of the pass. "neroweg, the measure is wise," observes the monk. "one could not advance with too much precaution into this accursed country of brittany, where i have lived long enough to know that it is extremely dangerous." "at the end of this defile, i am told, we enter upon even ground." "yes, but before that we shall have to cross the marsh of peulven and the forest of cardik; we then arrive at the vast moor of kennor, the rendezvous of the two other armed bodies of louis the pious, who are marching to that point across the river vilaine and over the defile of mount orock, as we are to penetrate through this one. morvan will be attacked from three sides, and will not be able to resist our forces." "i marvel that so important a pass as this is not defended." "i furnished you the reason when i delivered to you morvan's plan of campaign, that was forwarded to me by kervor, a pious catholic who came over to the frankish side and submitted to the authority of our king. he is the chief of the southern tribes whose territory we have just crossed." "i loved to see those people so docile to the priests; they furnished us with supplies, and at your voice knelt down as we passed." "at the time of the other wars you would have dropped fully one-half of your troops in this region so cut up with bogs, hedges and woods. the change between now and then is great. the catholic faith penetrates little by little these people, formerly so intractable. we have preached to them submission to louis the pious, and menaced them with the fires of hell if they attempted to resist your arms." "indeed, more than one of the troopers of the old bands who fought here at the time of charles the great, have told me they could no longer recognize the bretons, who, in their days, were almost invincible. but for all your explanations, monk, i cannot understand how this pass comes to be abandoned." "and yet nothing is simpler. according to his plan of campaign, morvan counted with the resistance of the tribes that we have just crossed. in one day, without drawing your sword, you have cleared a track that would otherwise have cost you three days' hard fighting, and a fourth of your troops. morvan, never apprehending your early arrival at the defile of glen-clan, will not think of having it occupied until this evening, or to-morrow. he has not enough forces at his disposal to place them where they would lie idle while he himself is being attacked from two other sides by as many army corps." "to that argument i have nothing to say, my father in christ, you know the country better than i. if this war succeeds, i shall have my share of the conquered territory; and, according to the promise of louis the pious, i shall become a powerful seigneur in brittany, as my elder brother, gonthran, is in auvergne." "and you will not forget to endow the church." "i shall not be ungrateful to the priests, good father. i shall employ a part of the booty in building a chapel to st. martin, for whom our family has ever entertained a particular devotion. could you, who are well acquainted with the customs of the bretons, tell me what corners they hide their money in? it is claimed that they remove all their treasures when they are forced to flee from their houses, and that they bury them in inaccessible hiding places. is that so?" "when we shall have arrived in the heart of the country, i shall acquaint you with the means to discover those treasures, which are, almost always, concealed at the foot of certain druid stones, for which these pagans preserve an idolatrous reverence." "but where shall we find those stones? by what signs are they to be recognized?" "that is my secret, neroweg. it will become _ours_ after we shall have reached the heart of the country." thus conversing, the monk and the frankish chief slowly ascend the craggy slope of the defile. from time to time, some of the horsemen, or foot soldiers, detached as scouts, ride back to acquaint neroweg with their observations. finally, hugh himself returns and informs his master that there is nothing to cause any apprehension on the score of an ambuscade. completely reassured by these reports, and by the explanations of the monk, neroweg gives the order for the advance of his troops, the footmen first, the horsemen next, then the baggage, and last of all a rear corps of foot soldiers. the army corps breaks up and enters the pass that is so narrow as to allow a passage to only four men abreast. the long and winding column of men covered with iron, crowded together, and moving slowly, presents a strange spectacle from the top of the rocks that dominate the narrow route. it might be taken for some gigantic serpent with iron scales, deploying its sinuous folds in a ravine cut between two walls of granite. the misgivings of the franks, somewhat alarmed when they first began threading their way through a passage so propitious to an ambush, are presently removed and make place for unquestioning confidence. already the vanguard that precedes neroweg and the monk is drawing near the issue of the defile, while at the other end the baggage wagons, drawn by oxen, begin to set themselves in motion followed by the rear guard that consists of thuringian horsemen and saxon archers. the last wagons and the rear guard have barely entered the defile, when suddenly the lugubrious cry of the night bird, resembling that which had greeted the first arrival of the frankish army, resounds again, and is echoed from peak to peak, along the whole length of the overtopping rocks. immediately thereupon, pushed by invisible arms, several enormous boulders detach themselves from the surrounding rocks that an instant before seemed a solid part of themselves, roll and bound with the rattle of thunder from the top of the crest down to the foot of the mountain, and fall crashing upon the wagons, crushing a large number of soldiers to death, mutilating many more and disabling the train. in their paroxysms of death, or rendered furious by their wounds, the oxen crowd upon or roll over one another, and throw the rear guard of the franks into such frightful disorder that it is wholly unable to make another step in advance; it is cut off from the gross of the troops by the lumber in its way; it is reduced to utter impotence. all along the rest of the length of the defile of glen-clan the franks are in similar plight. all along the line, fragments of rocks roll down from the overtopping crests, crushing and decimating the compact mass of soldiers below. the gigantic serpent of iron is mutilated, cut into bleeding sections; it writhes convulsively at the bottom of the ravine, while from the summits on either side, now crowned with a swarm of bretons, who kept themselves until then concealed, a hailstorm of arrows, boar-spears and stones rains down upon the bewildered, panic-stricken and impotent frankish cohorts, caught and hemmed in between the two granite walls, from whose tops our men deal prompt and unavoidable death to their invaders. vortigern is in command of these resolute and watchful bretons. his bow in one hand, his quiver by his side, not one of his bolts misses its mark. the butchery is frightful! the carnage superb! the gallic war-songs and cries of triumph from above answer the imprecations of the franks from below. a frightful butchery! a superb carnage! it lasts as long as our men have a stone to throw, a bolt or a spear to hurl at the foe. his own, and the munitions of his companions being exhausted, vortigern cries down from the summit of the rocks to the frantic franks below, accompanying the cry with a gesture of defiance: "we will thus defend our soil, inch by inch; every step you take will be marked by your blood or our own; all our tribes are not like those of kervor!" saying this, vortigern struck up the martial song of his ancestor schanvoch: "this morning we asked: 'how many are there of these franks? how many are there of these barbarians?' this evening we say: 'how many were there of these franks? how many were there of these barbarians?'"[e] chapter v. the marsh of peulven. vast is the marsh of peulven. to the east and the south its shape is like a bay. from that side its edges are bordered by the skirts of the dense forest of cardik. to the north and west, it waters the gentle slopes of the hills that succeed upon the last spurs of the black mountains, whose tops, empurpled by the rays of the westering sun, rise in the distant horizon. a jetty, or tongue of land that runs into the edge of the forest, traverses the marsh through its whole length. silence is profound in this desert place. the stagnant waters reflect the inflamed tints of the ruddy twilight. from time to time flocks of curlews, herons and other aquatic birds, rise from amidst the reeds that cover the marsh in spots, hover about and fly upward, emitting their plaintive cries. several frankish horsemen appear from the side of the mountain. they climb the hill, reach its top, and rein in their horses. they sweep the marsh with their eyes, examine it for a moment, then turn their horses' heads and ride back to join neroweg and the monk, whose forces, decimated shortly before in the defile of glen-clan, have been subsequently harassed without let on their further march by little breton bands, who, placed in ambush behind hedges, or in ditches covered with dry wood, unexpectedly fell upon either the vanguard or the rear guard of the franks, and, after bloody encounters, again vanished in that region so interspersed with obstacles of all sorts, impracticable for cavalry, and with which the frankish foot soldiers are so utterly unfamiliar that they ventured not to separate themselves from the main column, ever fearing to fall into some fresh ambush. on horseback behind the monk, neroweg stands on the summit of a hill not far behind the one that the scouts have just ascended. he awaits their return in order to continue his march. the vanguard has halted at a little distance from the chief. further away rest the bulk of his troops. a small detachment of the rear guard was ordered to take its stand about a league further back in order to guard the baggage, the wagons and the wounded of the sorely harassed army. the lines on the face of the frankish chief denote deep concern. he says to the monk: "what a war! what a war! i have fought against the northmans, when they attacked our fortified camps at the confluence of the somme and the seine. those accursed pirates are terrible foes. they are as dashing in attack as they are cautious in retreat, and they ever find a safe shelter in the light craft in which they come over the seas of the north as far south as gaul. but by st. martin! these accursed bretons are fuller of the devil, and harder to get at than even the pirates! they were a source of trouble to charles the great emperor; they have become the desolation of his son!" and neroweg repeats dejectedly: "what a war! what a war!" the monk turns upon his saddle, and stretching out his hand in the direction traversed by the frankish troop, says to neroweg: "look toward the west!" turning his eyes in the direction indicated by the priest, the frankish chief notices behind him tall columns of ruddy smoke rising at intervals from the hills that the army has left behind it. "look yonder! everywhere a conflagration marks our passage. the burgs and villages, abandoned by the fleeing inhabitants, have, at my orders, been delivered to the flames. the bretons have not, like the northman pirates, the resource of vessels on which to flee with their booty back to the ocean. we are driving the fleeing population before us. the two other army corps of louis the pious are, from their side, following similar tactics. accordingly, we and they will meet to-morrow morning at the village of lokfern. there we will find, driven back and heaped together, the populations that have been attacked from the south, the east and the north during these last days. there, surrounded by a circle of iron, they will be either annihilated or reduced to slavery! ah! this time without fail, brittany, never before overcome, will be subjected to the catholic church and to the power of the franks. what if your soldiers have been decimated in the struggle for the triumph of the faith and royalty! the troops that you still have, will, when joined to the other army corps, suffice to exterminate the bretons!" "monk," answers neroweg impatiently, "your words do not console me for the death of so many brave frankish warriors whose bones have been left to bleach in the defile of glen-clan and on the hills of this accursed country!" "rather envy their fate. they have died for religion; they are now in paradise, in the midst of a chorus of seraphim." neroweg shrugs his shoulders with an air of incredulity, and after a moment of silence proceeds: "you promised to point out to me where these pagans conceal their treasures." "on the other side of the marsh of peulven which we are now to traverse, lies a vast forest in which a large number of druid stones are found. have the earth removed at their foot, and you will find large sums of money in silver and gold, and many precious articles that have been hidden there since the beginning of the war." "when will we arrive at that forest?" "this evening before nightfall." "i do not wish to risk my troops in that forest, and fall into another ambush like the one of the defile!" cries neroweg. "the day is drawing to its close. we shall encamp to-night in the midst of the bare hills where we now are, and where no surprise is to be feared." "here are your scouts back," observes the monk to the frankish chief. "interrogate them before you make up your mind definitely." "neroweg," reports one of the riders who had scouted to the edge of the marsh, "as far as the eye reaches, nothing is seen on the marsh; there is no sign of any men; there is not a boat in sight. on the shores there is not a single hut, and there is no evidence of any entrenchment." impatient to judge by himself of the nature of the field, the frankish chief, followed by the monk, immediately rides forward and reaches the top of the hill shortly before occupied by the scouts. from the eminence neroweg beholds a vast expanse of marshy ground in whose numerous pools of stagnant water the last rays of the sinking sun are mirrored. the jetty, covered with sward and lined with a thick fringe of reeds, reaches clear to the other side, and is lost on the edge of the forest. "there is not the slightest fear of an ambush in crossing this solitude," says neroweg with visible mental relief. "the march across can only take up half an hour, at the most." "we have about an hour more of daylight left us," observes the monk. "the forest you see yonder is called the forest of cardik. it stretches far away to the right and left of the marsh, seeing that, towards the west, it reaches the borders of the armorican sea. but that portion of the forest that faces the jetty is at the utmost a quarter of a league long. we could easily put it behind us before night, and we would then be on the moor of kennor, an immense plain where you could encamp in absolute security. to-morrow at daybreak if it should please you, we can ride back into the forest and rummage at the foot of the druid stones for the treasures hidden there by the bretons. glory to your arms, and may the booty be large!" after a few minutes of hesitation, neroweg, tempted by cupidity, sends a man of his escort to give to his troops the order to march and traverse the jetty, a narrow walk of about three feet wide, perfectly even, covered with thin grass, and lying in plain view from one end to the other. neroweg feels easy in mind. nevertheless, remembering the rocks of glen-clan, he prudently orders several horsemen to precede the troops by about a hundred paces. marching behind their chief, neroweg's troops begin to defile along the jetty, which soon is covered with soldiers from end to end. massed from the foot to the top of the hill, behind the advancing column, are the last detachments of neroweg's army. they break ranks as fast as it is their turn to enter upon the passage. suddenly, from the midst of the clumps of reeds that rise at irregular intervals along the length of the tongue of land, the cry of night-birds goes up--cries identical with those that had resounded from the summits of glen-clan. upon the signal, the muffled sounds of rapid hatchet strokes are heard. they teem to be the answer given to the cries of the night-birds. instantly the seemingly solid walk sinks at scores of places under the feet of the marching soldiers. woe is those who happen to find themselves over these hidden traps, that are constructed of wooden beams and strong chains concealed under a layer of sward! the scheme, devised by vortigern, proves successful. the movable bridges can, at will, either support the weight of the troops that march over them, or tip over under their tread, by the dexterous knocking from under the loose boards the wooden pegs that are their only support. plunged in the water up to their necks, vortigern and a large number of stout-hearted men of his tribe have held themselves motionless, mute and invisible in the center of the clumps of reeds that border the jetty near each of the traps. when the jetty is entirely covered with frankish soldiers, the hatchets are, at a signal, plied with energy; the pegs drop out; and the passage is suddenly cut up by scores of gaps twenty feet wide. pell-mell foot soldiers, cavalrymen and their horses tumble to the bottom of these suddenly opened ditches, and are received thereupon by the sharp points of piles providently sunk at the bottom. at the sight of these death-dealing traps, suddenly gaping before them at their feet, and at the sound of the wild cries and imprecations uttered by the wounded and by those who are being pushed forward into the abysses by the crowding ranks behind, a tremendous disorder, followed by a panic, spreads among the franks. fearing the path to be everywhere undermined, the soldiers crowd back and forward upon one another in a frenzy of despair. the frightened horses rear, tumble down, or rush furiously into the marsh where they vanish together with their riders. the confusion and rout being at its height, the bretons rise from their places of concealment among the reeds, and hurl promiscuously a shower of bolts upon the confused heaps of soldiers, now rendered insane with fear, and in their panic either trampling upon one another, or themselves being trampled upon by their uncontrollable steeds. other war-crys respond from a distance to the war-cries struck up by vortigern and his men. a troop of bretons issues from the forest and ranks itself in battle array at the border of the marsh ready to dispute the passage if the franks dare to attempt it the sight of these fresh foes carries the panic of neroweg's troops to its acme. instead of marching onward towards the edge of the forest, the front rank faces about, anxious only to join the body of the army that still finds itself massed at the entrance of the fatal causeway. the rush is effected with such fury that the deep trenches are speedily filled with the bodies of a mass of wounded, dead and dying warriors. the heaped-up corpses soon serve as a bridge to the fleeing franks, whose rear the breton bolts assail unpityingly. at the spectacle of the routed franks, vortigern and his braves strike up anew the war song with which they had assailed the ears of the distracted franks at the defile of glen-clan: "this morning we asked: 'how many are there of these franks? how many are there of these barbarians?' this evening we say: 'how many were there of these franks? how many were there of these barbarians?' victory and glory to hesus!" chapter vi. the forest of cardik. "what a war! what a war!" exclaim the warriors of louis the pious, leaving at every step some of their companions behind among the rocks and the marshes of armorica. "every hedge of the fields, every ditch in the valleys conceals a breton of steady eye and hand. the stone of the sling, the arrow of the bow whiz everywhere through the air, nor miss their aim. the pits of the precipices, and the bottoms of the stagnant waters swallow up the bodies of our soldiers. if we penetrate into the forests, the danger redoubles. every copse, the branches of every tree, conceal an enemy!" neroweg, having barely escaped with his life from the disaster of the marsh of peulven, spends the night upon the hill with the remaining fragment of his army. at early dawn the next morning he orders the trumpets and clarions to call his men to their ranks. at the head of his warriors he again steps upon the narrow jetty of the marsh. he is determined to force his way into the forest of cardik. footmen and horses again trample over the heaped-up corpses in the wide trenches. no ambush now retards the passage of the franks. by sunrise the last detachments have crossed the marsh, and all the forces still at the command of neroweg are deployed along the skirts of the forest that is now serving as a retreat to the gauls of armorica, and where they have taken their next stand. the primeval forest extends, towards the west, as far as the steep banks of a river that runs into the sea, and towards the east, up to a chain of precipitous hills. furious at the defeat he suffered on the previous evening, the frankish chief is hardly able to restrain his ardor. always accompanied by the monk, he advances into the forest. the oaks, the elms, the ash trees, the birch trees, raise their gigantic trunks and interlace their spreading branches. between these trunks, all is underwood, bramble and briar. only one narrow and tortuous path presents itself to neroweg's sight. he enters it. daylight barely penetrates the walk through the dense vault of verdure, shaped overhead by the foliage of the stately trees. thickets of holly seven or eight feet high fringe the way. their prickly leaves render them impenetrable. unable to wander off either to the right or to the left, the soldiers are compelled to follow the defile of verdure. laboring under the shock of their recent disasters, they march with mistrust through the somber forest of cardik, speaking only in undertones, and from time to time interrogating with uneasy looks the leafy branches of the trees, or the thicket that borders the route. for a while nothing justifies the apprehensions of the frankish cohorts. the silence of the forest is disturbed only by the rhythmic and muffled sound of their steps, and the clank of their arms. but even the silence itself nourishes the vague fears of the franks. the defile of glen-clan and the marsh of peulven also were silent! more than one-half of the rest of the army now left to neroweg has entered the forest, when, reaching one of the turns of the winding path, the frankish chief, who marches at the head of his horsemen accompanied by the monk, suddenly stops short. the path has vanished. gigantic oaks and elms, a hundred feet tall and from fifteen to twenty feet in circumference, and bearing the evidence of having only freshly fallen under the axe of the woodman, lie heaped upon each other and so tangled in their fall across the route that their enormous branches and colossal trunks present an impassible barrier to the cavalry. only foot soldiers might possibly scale the obstruction, and cut their way across with hatchets. "oh! what a war!" cries out neroweg, clenching his fists. "after the defile, the marsh! after the marsh, the forest! i shall have barely one-third of my forces left by the time i join the other chiefs! accursed bretons, may the fires of hell consume you!" "yes, these heathens will burn! they shall burn until the last day of judgment!" responds the monk with deep vexation. "courage, neroweg! courage! this last obstacle being overcome, we shall arrive at the moor of kennor. there we shall join the other two army corps of louis the pious, and we shall all jointly penetrate into the valley of lokfern, where we will exterminate these accursed bretons to the last man." "have you seen me falter in courage? by the great st. martin, it looks as if you were in league with the enemy, judging by the route you have guided us on! already have you twice led us into an ambush, you miserable priest!" "have i not braved all the dangers at your side?" observes the priest, holding up his left arm, that is wound in a bloodstained bandage. "was i not myself wounded last evening when we attempted to cross the marsh of peulven? can you question my courage or fidelity?" "how are we to find another route? the one barred is the only one, you told me, that crosses this forest, otherwise impracticable to an army." the monk looks around; he reflects; but no answer proceeds from his lips. a prey to discouragement and increasing terror, the soldiers begin to grumble, when suddenly three quickly succeeding cries of the night-bird pierce the air. immediately the breton slingers and archers, ambushed behind the breast-work of fallen trees, assail the franks with a volley of stones and arrows. enormous oak branches, previously prepared, detach themselves from the tops of their trunks, and come down crashing upon the heads of the soldiers, killing or mutilating them. anew, panic seizes the franks; a fresh carnage decimates them. cavalrymen thrown from their horses, foot soldiers trampled under the hoofs of the frightened steeds, all blinded, their flesh torn as in their fright they precipitate themselves into the thick of the prickly holly hedges--such is this day's spectacle presented to the delighted breton eyes by the invading army of neroweg. what an inspiring spectacle to the armorican gauls! the air is filled with the moans of the dying, the imprecations of the wounded, the threats hurled at the monk, now roundly charged with treason. the carnage and the panic are at their height when, climbing to the top of the breast-work of trees whence he can gain a full view of the distracted foe, vortigern appears before the franks and calls out to them defiantly: "now you may try to cross the forest. our quivers are empty. we shall retreat to replenish them and shall be ready to meet you in the valley of lokfern." vortigern has barely uttered these words when his eyes catch sight of the chief of the franks, who, having descended from his horse, holds up against the stones and bolts of his assailants, his white buckler, on which three eagle's talons are seen painted. at the sight of the device of his own stock's ancestral foe, vortigern places his last arrow upon the string of his bow. "the descendant of joel sends this to the descendant of the nerowegs." the arrow whizzes. it grazes the lower border of the frank's buckler, and penetrates his knee just above the jointure. neroweg falls upon the other knee, points out the gaul to several archers in his vicinity, and cries: "take aim at that bandit! kill him!" the saxon arrows fly through the air; two strike, and quiver where they strike, in the upturned branches of the tree on which vortigern has mounted; the third enters his left arm. the descendant of joel quickly draws out the sharp-edged iron, throws it back at the franks with a defiant gesture, and disappears behind the twisted branches of the improvised barricade. three times the cry of the night bird is again heard in the forest, and the bretons disperse along paths known only to them, again singing as they go, the ancient war-song, the sound of whose refrain is gradually lost in the distance: "this morning we asked: 'how many are there of these franks? how many are there of these barbarians?' this evening we say: 'how many were there of these franks? how many were there of these barbarians?' victory, victory for gaul!" chapter vii. the moor of kennor. about four leagues in width and three in length--such is the expanse of the moor of kennor. it constitutes a vast plateau that slopes to the north toward the valley of lokfern, and is bounded on the west by a wide river that pours its waters into the sea of armorica only a little distance away. the forest of cardik and the last spurs of the mountain chain of men-brez border on the moor. the moor is covered throughout its extent by heather two or three feet high and almost burned out by the scorching sun of the dog-days. level as a lake, the immense barren and desert plain presents a desolate aspect. a violent east wind causes the tall heather, now of the color of dead leaves, to undulate like a peaceful sheet of water. above, the sky is of a bright blue on this sultry and windy day. an august sun inundates with its blinding light the desert expanse of heather, whose silence is disturbed only by the sharp chirp of the grasshopper, or the low moan of the gale. presently a new element enters upon the scene. skirting the bank of the river, a black and confused mass heaves into sight, stretches out its length, and moves toward the centre of the plain. it is the one of the three army corps led in person by louis the pious against the breton gauls. long before its appearance, other troops, formed in compact cohorts, have been descending on the east the last slopes of men-brez. they, likewise, are advancing toward the plain--the place agreed upon for the junction of the three armies that had invaded armorica, burning and ravaging the country upon their passage, and driving the population back towards the valley of lokfern. the only division absent from the rendezvous is the contingent captained by neroweg, which, since morning, has been struggling in the forest of cardik. finally it has issued in disorder from the woods, and re-formed its ranks. after incalculable labor, hewing, axe in hand, a passage through the thickets, leaving their cavalry behind, and forced to retreat upon their steps back to the marsh of peulven, the troops of neroweg at last succeed in crossing the forest. these troops now number barely one-half their original strength. they are reduced, not only by the losses sustained in the passage of the defile of glen-clan, of the marsh of peulven, and the forest of cardik, but also by the defection of large numbers of men, who, being more and more terror stricken by the resistance that they encountered, refused to listen to the orders of their chief, and followed the cavalry in its retreat. neroweg's greatly reduced contingent now also appears in sight from the opposite side. the three army corps have descried one another. their march converges towards the centre of the plain. the distance between them becomes so small that they are able to see one another's armor, casques and lances, glistening in the sun. the division of louis the pious, having been the first to descend into the plain over the hills of men-brez, halts, in order to wait for the other divisions. the troops under louis the pious himself are no less demoralized and reduced in numbers than the division under neroweg. they have undergone similar vicissitudes during their long march, having had to cut their way across a seemingly endless series of ambushes. the sight of their companions arriving from the opposite side revives their courage. henceforth they expect to fight in the open. as far as the eye can reach, the vast plain that they now have entered upon lies fully exposed to view. it can conceal no trap. the last struggle is now at hand, and with it the close of the war. the bretons, crowded together just beyond in the valley of lokfern, are to be crushed by a combined armed force that is still three times stronger than theirs. the vanguards of the three converging divisions are about to join when suddenly, from the east, whence a dry and steady gale is blowing, little puffs of smoke, at first almost imperceptible, are seen to rise at irregular distances from one another. the puffs of smoke are going up from the extreme eastern edge of the moor; they spread; they mingle with one another over an area more than two leagues in length; by little and little they present the aspect of one continuous belt of blackish smoke rising high and spreading into the air, and from time to time breaking out into lambent flames. the fire has been kindled at a hundred different spots by the breton gauls with the dry heather of the moor. driven by the violent gale the girdle of flame soon embraces the horizon from the east to the south, from the slopes of men-brez to the skirt of the forest. it advances with rapid strides like the waves of the incoming tide lashed by a furious wind. terrified at the sight of the burning waves that are rushing upon them from the right with the swiftness of a hurricane, the frankish ranks waver for a moment. to their left, runs a deep river; behind them, rises the forest of cardik; before them the plateau slopes towards the valley of lokfern. himself running for life towards the valley, louis the pious thereby gives to his troops the signal to flee. they follow their king tumultuously, anxious only to leave the moor behind them before the flames, that now invade the plateau from end to end, entirely cut off their retreat. impatient to escape the danger, the cavalry breaks ranks, follows the example set by the king, traverses the cohorts of the infantry, throws them down, and rides rough-shod over them. the disorder, the tumult, the terror are at their height. the soldiers struggle with the horsemen and with one another. the fiery wave advances steadily; it advances faster than it can be run away from. the swiftest steed cannot cope with it. the all-embracing sheet of fire reaches first the soldiers whom the cavalry has thrown down and left wounded behind; it speedily envelopes the bulk of the army. in an instant the distracted cohorts are seen up to their waists in the midst of the flames. by the valor of our fathers, it is the hell of the damned in this world! frightful! torture! excruciating pain! a cheering sight for the eyes of a breton gaul, harassed by invaders, to behold his merciless assailers in. frankish horsemen cased in iron and fallen from their steeds, roast within their red-hot armor like tortoises in their shell. the footmen jump and leap to withdraw their nether extremities from the embrace of the caressing flames. but the flames never leave them; the flames gain the lead. their feet and legs are grilled, refuse their support, and the men drop into the furnace emitting cries of despair. the horses fare no better despite their breathless gallop; they feel their flanks and buttocks devoured by the flames; they become savage. they are seized with a vertigo; they rear, plunge and fall over upon their riders. horses and riders roll down into the brasier at their feet. the horses neigh piteously, the riders moan or utter curses. an immense concert of imprecations, of fierce cries of pain and rage rises heavenward with the flames of the magnificent hecatomb of frankish warriors! oh! beautiful to the eye is the moor of kennor, still ruddy and smoking an hour after it is set on fire and consumed to the very root of its heather! splendid brasier three leagues wide, strewn with thousands of frankish bodies, shapeless, charred. warm quarry above which already flocks of carrion-crows from the forest of cardik are hovering! glory to you, bretons! more than a third of the frankish army met death on the moor of kennor. "what a war! what a war!" also exclaims louis the pious. aye, a merciless war; a holy war; a thrice holy war, waged by a people in defence of their freedom, their homes, their fields, their hearths; oh, ancient land of the gauls! oh, old armorica, sacred mother! everything turns into a weapon in the hands of your rugged children against their barbarous invaders! rocks, precipices, marshes, woods, moors on fire! oh, brittany, betrayed by those of your own children who succumbed to the wiles of the catholic priests, stabbed at your heart by the sword of the frankish kings, and pouring out the generous heart blood of your children, perchance, after all, you will feel the yoke of the conquerer on your neck! but the bones of your enemies, crushed, burned and drowned in the struggle, will tell to our descendants the tale of a resistance that armorica offered to her casqued and mitred invaders! chapter viii. the valley of lokfern. decimated by the conflagration of the moor of kennor, the frankish army flees in disorder in the direction of the valley of lokfern, that lies slightly below the vast plateau on which an hour before the three frankish divisions have joined, confident that their trials are ended. escaped from the disaster of the conflagration and carried onward by the impetuosity of their steeds, a portion of the frankish cavalry that follows louis the pious in his precipitate flight, arrives at the confines of the plateau. driven by a terror that left them no thought but to outstrip one another, the fleeing riders seem to give no heed to the sight that unfolds before them. at the foot of the slope that they are about to descend, stands the numerous breton cavalry, drawn up in battle array, under the command of morvan and vortigern. it is only a cavalry of rustics, yet intrepid, veterans in warfare, perfectly mounted. carried by the headlong course of their horses beyond the edge of the plateau and down the slope to the valley, the franks rush in confused order upon the breton cavalry that is drawn up as if to bar their passage; they rush onward, either unable to restrain their still frightened steeds, or conceiving a vague hope of crushing the opposing bretons under the irresistible violence of their impetuous descent. the breton cavalry, however, instead of waiting for the franks, quickly parts in two corps, one commanded by morvan, the other by vortigern. one corps seems to flee to the right, the other to the left. the space from the foot of the hill to the river scoer being thus left free by the sudden and rapid manoeuvre of the gauls, most of the frankish horsemen find themselves hardly able to rein in their horses in time to escape falling into the water. a moment of disorder follows. it is turned to advantage by morvan and vortigern. the frankish riders being dispersed and engaged with their steeds, vortigern and morvan turn about and fall upon them. they take the foe upon the flanks, right and left; charge upon them with fury; make havoc among them. most of them are sabred to death, or have their heads beaten in with axes, others are driven into the river. during the fierce melee, the remnant of the infantry of louis the pious, still fleeing from the furnace of the moor of kennor, arrives upon the spot in disorder. trained in the trade of massacre, they promptly reform their ranks and pour down upon the breton cavalry. at first victorious, these are finally crushed, overwhelmed by vastly superior numbers. on the other side of the river the rustic gallic infantry still continue to hold their ground--husbandmen, woo-men and shepherds armed with pikes, scythes and axes, and many of them supplied with bows and slings. behind this mass of warriors, and within an enclosure defended by barricades of heaped up trunks of trees and ditches, are assembled the women and children of the combatants. all their families have fled distracted before the invaders, carrying their valuables in their flight, and now await with indescribable agony the issue of this last battle. weep! weep, brittany! and yet be proud of your glory! your sons, crushed down by numbers, resisted to their last breath; all have fallen wounded or dead in defence of their freedom! the river is fordable for infantry at only one place. the monk who accompanies neroweg points out the passage to the troops of louis the pious. they cross it immediately after the annihilation of the cavalry of morvan. the armoricans who are drawn up on the opposite bank of the scoer heroically defend the ground inch by inch, man to man, ever falling back toward the fortified enclosure that is the last refuge of our families. marching over heaps of corpses, the soldiery of louis the pious finally assail the fortified enclosure, all its defenders having been killed or wounded. the enclosure is taken. according to their custom, the franks slaughter the children, put the women and maids to the torture of infamous treatment, and lead them away captive to the interior of gaul. ermond the black, a monk and familiar of louis the pious in this impious war, wrote its account in latin verse. the death of morvan is narrated in the poem as follows: "then presently the cry runs through the ranks that morvan's head, the breton chieftain's head, has been brought in unto the frankish king: to see it haste the franks; they shout with joy at prospect to behold the grisley sight. from hand to hand the bloody head is passed, marred with the sword that hewed it from its trunk. witchaire the abbot next is called upon t' identify the member, if it be the head of morvan, that redoubted chief. he pours some water on the matted front, he laves it, wipes the hair from off its brow, and cries ''tis morvan--'tis his gallic lour!'" thus brittany, once lost to the franks, is placed anew under their sway. epilogue vortigern, the grandson of amael, wrote this account of the war of the franks against brittany. left for dead on the banks of the scoer, he did not recover his senses until a day and a night had passed after the defeat of the bretons. some christian druids, led to the spot by caswallan, who had escaped the massacre, came to the field of battle to gather the wounded who might still be alive. vortigern was of the number. from them he learned that his sister noblede, the wife of morvan, together with other women and young girls who took refuge in the fortified enclosure, had stabbed themselves to death in order to escape being outraged by the franks and led into slavery. after abbot witchaire left the house of morvan on his return trip to announce to louis the pious the refusal of the armorican gauls to pay the tribute demanded from them, vortigern returned with his wife and children to karnak in order to gather in the crops from his fields. the harvest being in, he left his family at the house of his parents, and returned to morvan in order to join the latter's forces, and oppose the army of louis the pious. immediately after his wounds were healed, vortigern returned to karnak, where he rejoined his wife and children. the franks had not dared push their invasion beyond the valley of lokfern. they contented themselves with leaving armorica devastated and stripped of her bravest defenders. yet is she not subdued. she but waits the moment to revolt anew. vortigern joined this narrative to the other narratives of his family, and he accompanied his own account with the two carlovingian coins, the gift of thetralde, one of the daughters of charles the great. these relics of the family of joel now consist of hena's little gold sickle, guilhern's little brass bell, sylvest's iron collar, genevieve's silver cross, shanvoch's casque's lark, ronan the vagre's poniard's hilt and his branding needle, bonaik's abbatial crosier and vortigern's carlovingian coins, together with the narratives that accompany them. myself, rosneven, the oldest son of vortigern, who make this entry at the foot of my father's narrative, can only record here my father's death on the fifth day of february of 889. these have been sad years for brittany, and also for our own family in particular. our special sorrows proceed from the estrangement of my younger brothers, one of whom left gaul and sailed to the country of the northman pirates. i lack both the spirit and the will to recite these lamentable events. perhaps my youngest brother gomer, gifted with more energy, ability and perseverance than myself, may some day undertake the task. the end. footnotes: [a] "the daughters of the emperor charles always accompanied him on his trips into the interior of gaul. they were handsome beauties; he loved them passionately; he never allowed them to marry, and kept them all with him till his death. although happy in everything else, charles experienced in them the malignity of adverse fortune; but he buried his chagrin, and behaved towards them as if they had never given cause for evil suspicions, and as if rumor had never been busy with their names."--_chronicles of eginhard, p. 145, collected history of france._ [b] for amael's story, see "the abbatial crosier," the preceding book of the series. [c] "the gallic woman equalled her husband in courage and strength. she sat in his councils of war with him. her eyes were more furious when she was angered, and she swung her arms, as white as snow, and dealt blows as heavy as if they came from an engine of war."--ammienus marcellinus, _notes of the martyrs_, vol. xviii, book ix. [d] "the heart of louis the pious (charlemagne's son) was, naturally, long indignant at the conduct indulged in by his sisters under the paternal roof, the only blot upon its name. desiring, then, to amend these disorders, he sent before him walla, warnaire, lambert and ingobert, with the order to watch carefully, as soon as they should arrive at aix-la-chapelle, that no new scandal should occur; and to put under heavy guard those who had soiled the majesty of the empire with a criminal commerce (with the daughters of the emperor). certain ones, guilty of these crimes, came before louis the pious to obtain pardon, which they received. audoin alone resisted. he smote warnaire that he died, wounded lambert in the thigh, and slew himself with one blow of his sword.... whereupon louis the pious decided to drive out of the palace all that multitude of women which occupied it in the time of his father."--l'astronome, _life of louis the pious_, pp. 345-346, _collected history of france_. [e] see "the casque's lark." bulfinch's mythology the age of fable the age of chivalry legends of charlemagne by thomas bulfinch complete in one volume [editor's note: the etext contains only legends of charlemagne] publishers' preface no new edition of bulfinch's classic work can be considered complete without some notice of the american scholar to whose wide erudition and painstaking care it stands as a perpetual monument. "the age of fable" has come to be ranked with older books like "pilgrim's progress," "gulliver's travels," "the arabian nights," "robinson crusoe," and five or six other productions of world-wide renown as a work with which every one must claim some acquaintance before his education can be called really complete. many readers of the present edition will probably recall coming in contact with the work as children, and, it may be added, will no doubt discover from a fresh perusal the source of numerous bits of knowledge that have remained stored in their minds since those early years. yet to the majority of this great circle of readers and students the name bulfinch in itself has no significance. thomas bulfinch was a native of boston, mass., where he was born in 1796. his boyhood was spent in that city, and he prepared for college in the boston schools. he finished his scholastic training at harvard college, and after taking his degree was for a period a teacher in his home city. for a long time later in life he was employed as an accountant in the boston merchants' bank. his leisure time he used for further pursuit of the classical studies which he had begun at harvard, and his chief pleasure in life lay in writing out the results of his reading, in simple, condensed form for young or busy readers. the plan he followed in this work, to give it the greatest possible usefulness, is set forth in the author's preface. "age of fable," first edition, 1855; "the age of chivalry," 1858; "the boy inventor," 1860; "legends of charlemagne, or romance of the middle ages," 1863; "poetry of the age of fable," 1863; "oregon and eldorado, or romance of the rivers," 1860. in this complete edition of his mythological and legendary lore "the age of fable," "the age of chivalry," and "legends of charlemagne" are included. scrupulous care has been taken to follow the original text of bulfinch, but attention should be called to some additional sections which have been inserted to add to the rounded completeness of the work, and which the publishers believe would meet with the sanction of the author himself, as in no way intruding upon his original plan but simply carrying it out in more complete detail. the section on northern mythology has been enlarged by a retelling of the epic of the "nibelungen lied," together with a summary of wagner's version of the legend in his series of music-dramas. under the head of "hero myths of the british race" have been included outlines of the stories of beowulf, cuchulain, hereward the wake, and robin hood. of the verse extracts which occur throughout the text, thirty or more have been added from literature which has appeared since bulfinch's time, extracts that he would have been likely to quote had he personally supervised the new edition. finally, the index has been thoroughly overhauled and, indeed, remade. all the proper names in the work have been entered, with references to the pages where they occur, and a concise explanation or definition of each has been given. thus what was a mere list of names in the original has been enlarged into a small classical and mythological dictionary, which it is hoped will prove valuable for reference purposes not necessarily connected with "the age of fable." acknowledgments are due the writings of dr. oliver huckel for information on the point of wagner's rendering of the nibelungen legend, and m. i. ebbutt's authoritative volume on "hero myths and legends of the british race," from which much of the information concerning the british heroes has been obtained. author's preface if no other knowledge deserves to be called useful but that which helps to enlarge our possessions or to raise our station in society, then mythology has no claim to the appellation. but if that which tends to make us happier and better can be called useful, then we claim that epithet for our subject. for mythology is the handmaid of literature; and literature is one of the best allies of virtue and promoters of happiness. without a knowledge of mythology much of the elegant literature of our own language cannot be understood and appreciated. when byron calls rome "the niobe of nations," or says of venice, "she looks a sea-cybele fresh from ocean," he calls up to the mind of one familiar with our subject, illustrations more vivid and striking than the pencil could furnish, but which are lost to the reader ignorant of mythology. milton abounds in similar allusions. the short poem "comus" contains more than thirty such, and the ode "on the morning of the nativity" half as many. through "paradise lost" they are scattered profusely. this is one reason why we often hear persons by no means illiterate say that they cannot enjoy milton. but were these persons to add to their more solid acquirements the easy learning of this little volume, much of the poetry of milton which has appeared to them "harsh and crabbed" would be found "musical as is apollo's lute." our citations, taken from more than twenty-five poets, from spenser to longfellow, will show how general has been the practice of borrowing illustrations from mythology. the prose writers also avail themselves of the same source of elegant and suggestive illustration. one can hardly take up a number of the "edinburgh" or "quarterly review" without meeting with instances. in macaulay's article on milton there are twenty such. but how is mythology to be taught to one who does not learn it through the medium of the languages of greece and rome? to devote study to a species of learning which relates wholly to false marvels and obsolete faiths is not to be expected of the general reader in a practical age like this. the time even of the young is claimed by so many sciences of facts and things that little can be spared for set treatises on a science of mere fancy. but may not the requisite knowledge of the subject be acquired by reading the ancient poets in translations? we reply, the field is too extensive for a preparatory course; and these very translations require some previous knowledge of the subject to make them intelligible. let any one who doubts it read the first page of the "aeneid," and see what he can make of "the hatred of juno," the "decree of the parcae," the "judgment of paris," and the "honors of ganymede," without this knowledge. shall we be told that answers to such queries may be found in notes, or by a reference to the classical dictionary? we reply, the interruption of one's reading by either process is so annoying that most readers prefer to let an allusion pass unapprehended rather than submit to it. moreover, such sources give us only the dry facts without any of the charm of the original narrative; and what is a poetical myth when stripped of its poetry? the story of ceyx and halcyone, which fills a chapter in our book, occupies but eight lines in the best (smith's) classical dictionary; and so of others. our work is an attempt to solve this problem, by telling the stories of mythology in such a manner as to make them a source of amusement. we have endeavored to tell them correctly, according to the ancient authorities, so that when the reader finds them referred to he may not be at a loss to recognize the reference. thus we hope to teach mythology not as a study, but as a relaxation from study; to give our work the charm of a story-book, yet by means of it to impart a knowledge of an important branch of education. the index at the end will adapt it to the purposes of reference, and make it a classical dictionary for the parlor. most of the classical legends in "stories of gods and heroes" are derived from ovid and virgil. they are not literally translated, for, in the author's opinion, poetry translated into literal prose is very unattractive reading. neither are they in verse, as well for other reasons as from a conviction that to translate faithfully under all the embarrassments of rhyme and measure is impossible. the attempt has been made to tell the stories in prose, preserving so much of the poetry as resides in the thoughts and is separable from the language itself, and omitting those amplifications which are not suited to the altered form. the northern mythological stories are copied with some abridgment from mallet's "northern antiquities." these chapters, with those on oriental and egyptian mythology, seemed necessary to complete the subject, though it is believed these topics have not usually been presented in the same volume with the classical fables. the poetical citations so freely introduced are expected to answer several valuable purposes. they will tend to fix in memory the leading fact of each story, they will help to the attainment of a correct pronunciation of the proper names, and they will enrich the memory with many gems of poetry, some of them such as are most frequently quoted or alluded to in reading and conversation. having chosen mythology as connected with literature for our province, we have endeavored to omit nothing which the reader of elegant literature is likely to find occasion for. such stories and parts of stories as are offensive to pure taste and good morals are not given. but such stories are not often referred to, and if they occasionally should be, the english reader need feel no mortification in confessing his ignorance of them. our work is not for the learned, nor for the theologian, nor for the philosopher, but for the reader of english literature, of either sex, who wishes to comprehend the allusions so frequently made by public speakers, lecturers, essayists, and poets, and those which occur in polite conversation. in the "stories of gods and heroes" the compiler has endeavored to impart the pleasures of classical learning to the english reader, by presenting the stories of pagan mythology in a form adapted to modern taste. in "king arthur and his knights" and "the mabinogeon" the attempt has been made to treat in the same way the stories of the second "age of fable," the age which witnessed the dawn of the several states of modern europe. it is believed that this presentation of a literature which held unrivalled sway over the imaginations of our ancestors, for many centuries, will not be without benefit to the reader, in addition to the amusement it may afford. the tales, though not to be trusted for their facts, are worthy of all credit as pictures of manners; and it is beginning to be held that the manners and modes of thinking of an age are a more important part of its history than the conflicts of its peoples, generally leading to no result. besides this, the literature of romance is a treasure-house of poetical material, to which modern poets frequently resort. the italian poets, dante and ariosto, the english, spenser, scott, and tennyson, and our own longfellow and lowell, are examples of this. these legends are so connected with each other, so consistently adapted to a group of characters strongly individualized in arthur, launcelot, and their compeers, and so lighted up by the fires of imagination and invention, that they seem as well adapted to the poet's purpose as the legends of the greek and roman mythology. and if every well-educated young person is expected to know the story of the golden fleece, why is the quest of the sangreal less worthy of his acquaintance? or if an allusion to the shield of achilles ought not to pass unapprehended, why should one to excalibar, the famous sword of arthur?- "of arthur, who, to upper light restored, with that terrific sword, which yet he brandishes for future war, shall lift his country's fame above the polar star." [footnote: wordsworth] it is an additional recommendation of our subject, that it tends to cherish in our minds the idea of the source from which we sprung. we are entitled to our full share in the glories and recollections of the land of our forefathers, down to the time of colonization thence. the associations which spring from this source must be fruitful of good influences; among which not the least valuable is the increased enjoyment which such associations afford to the american traveller when he visits england, and sets his foot upon any of her renowned localities. the legends of charlemagne and his peers are necessary to complete the subject. in an age when intellectual darkness enveloped western europe, a constellation of brilliant writers arose in italy. of these, pulci (born in 1432), boiardo (1434), and ariosto (1474) took for their subjects the romantic fables which had for many ages been transmitted in the lays of bards and the legends of monkish chroniclers. these fables they arranged in order, adorned with the embellishments of fancy, amplified from their own invention, and stamped with immortality. it may safely be asserted that as long as civilization shall endure these productions will retain their place among the most cherished creations of human genius. in "stories of gods and heroes," "king arthur and his knights" and "the mabinogeon" the aim has been to supply to the modern reader such knowledge of the fables of classical and mediaeval literature as is needed to render intelligible the allusions which occur in reading and conversation. the "legends of charlemagne" is intended to carry out the same design. like the earlier portions of the work, it aspires to a higher character than that of a piece of mere amusement. it claims to be useful, in acquainting its readers with the subjects of the productions of the great poets of italy. some knowledge of these is expected of every well-educated young person. in reading these romances, we cannot fail to observe how the primitive inventions have been used, again and again, by successive generations of fabulists. the siren of ulysses is the prototype of the siren of orlando, and the character of circe reappears in alcina. the fountains of love and hatred may be traced to the story of cupid and psyche; and similar effects produced by a magic draught appear in the tale of tristram and isoude, and, substituting a flower for the draught, in shakspeare's "midsummer night's dream." there are many other instances of the same kind which the reader will recognize without our assistance. the sources whence we derive these stories are, first, the italian poets named above; next, the "romans de chevalerie" of the comte de tressan; lastly, certain german collections of popular tales. some chapters have been borrowed from leigh hunt's translations from the italian poets. it seemed unnecessary to do over again what he had already done so well; yet, on the other hand, those stories could not be omitted from the series without leaving it incomplete. thomas bulfinch. contents legends of charlemagne introduction the peers, or paladins the tournament the siege of albracca adventures of rinaldo and orlando the invasion of france the invasion of france (continued) bradamante and rogero astolpho and the enchantress the orc astolpho's adventures continued, and isabella's begun. medoro orlando mad zerbino and isabella astolpho in abyssinia the war in africa rogero and bradamante the battle of roncesvalles rinaldo and bayard death of rinaldo huon of bordeaux huon of bordeaux (continued) huon of bordeaux (continued) ogier, the dane ogier, the dane (continued) ogier, the dane (continued) glossary legends of charlemagne introduction those who have investigated the origin of the romantic fables relating to charlemagne and his peers are of opinion that the deeds of charles martel, and perhaps of other charleses, have been blended in popular tradition with those properly belonging to charlemagne. it was indeed a most momentous era; and if our readers will have patience, before entering on the perusal of the fabulous annals which we are about to lay before them, to take a rapid survey of the real history of the times, they will find it hardly less romantic than the tales of the poets. in the century beginning from the year 600, the countries bordering upon the native land of our saviour, to the east and south, had not yet received his religion. arabia was the seat of an idolatrous religion resembling that of the ancient persians, who worshipped the sun, moon, and stars. in mecca, in the year 571, mahomet was born, and here, at the age of forty, he proclaimed himself the prophet of god, in dignity as superior to christ as christ had been to moses. having obtained by slow degrees a considerable number of disciples, he resorted to arms to diffuse his religion. the energy and zeal of his followers, aided by the weakness of the neighboring nations, enabled him and his successors to spread the sway of arabia and the religion of mahomet over the countries to the east as far as the indus, northward over persia and asia minor, westward over egypt and the southern shores of the mediterranean, and thence over the principal portion of spain. all this was done within one hundred years from the hegira, or flight of mahomet from mecca to medina, which happened in the year 622, and is the era from which mahometans reckon time, as we do from the birth of christ. from spain the way was open for the saracens (so the followers of mahomet were called) into france, the conquest of which, if achieved, would have been followed very probably by that of all the rest of europe, and would have resulted in the banishment of christianity from the earth. for christianity was not at that day universally professed, even by those nations which we now regard as foremost in civilization. great part of germany, britain, denmark, and russia were still pagan or barbarous. at that time there ruled in france, though without the title of king, the first of those illustrious charleses of whom we have spoken, charles martel, the grandfather of charlemagne. the saracens of spain had made incursions into france in 712 and 718, and had retired, carrying with them a vast booty. in 725, anbessa, who was then the saracen governor of spain, crossed the pyrenees with a numerous army, and took by storm the strong town of carcassone. so great was the terror excited by this invasion, that the country for a wide extent submitted to the conqueror, and a mahometan governor for the province was appointed and installed at narbonne. anbessa, however, received a fatal wound in one of his engagements, and the saracens, being thus checked from further advance, retired to narbonne. in 732 the saracens again invaded france under abdalrahman, advanced rapidly to the banks of the garonne, and laid siege to bordeaux. the city was taken by assault and delivered up to the soldiery. the invaders still pressed forward, and spread over the territories of orleans, auxerre and sens. their advanced parties were suddenly called in by their chief, who had received information of the rich abbey of st. martin of tours, and resolved to plunder and destroy it. charles during all this time had done nothing to oppose the saracens, for the reason that the portion of france over which their incursions had been made was not at that time under his dominion, but constituted an independent kingdom, under the name of aquitaine, of which eude was king. but now charles became convinced of the danger, and prepared to encounter it. abdalrahman was advancing toward tours, when intelligence of the approach of charles, at the head of an army of franks, compelled him to fall back upon poitiers, in order to seize an advantageous field of battle. charles martel had called together his warriors from every part of his dominions, and, at the head of such an army as had hardly ever been seen in france, crossed the loire, probably at orleans, and, being joined by the remains of the army of aquitaine, came in sight of the arabs in the month of october, 732. the saracens seem to have been aware of the terrible enemy they were now to encounter, and for the first time these formidable conquerors hesitated. the two armies remained in presence during seven days before either ventured to begin the attack; but at length the signal for battle was given by abdalrahman, and the immense mass of the saracen army rushed with fury on the franks. but the heavy line of the northern warriors remained like a rock, and the saracens, during nearly the whole day, expended their strength in vain attempts to make any impression upon them. at length, about four o'clock in the afternoon, when abdalrahman was preparing for a new and desperate attempt to break the line of the franks, a terrible clamor was heard in the rear of the saracens. it was king eude, who, with his aquitanians, had attacked their camp, and a great part of the saracen army rushed tumultuously from the field to protect their plunder. in this moment of confusion the line of the franks advanced, and, sweeping the field before it, carried fearful slaughter amongst the enemy. abdalrahman made desperate efforts to rally his troops, but when he himself, with the bravest of his officers, fell beneath the swords of the christians, all order disappeared, and the remains of his army sought refuge in their immense camp, from which eude and his aquitanians had been repulsed. it was now late, and charles, unwilling to risk an attack on the camp in the dark, withdrew his army, and passed the night in the plain, expecting to renew the battle in the morning. accordingly, when daylight came, the franks drew up in order of battle, but no enemy appeared; and when at last they ventured to approach the saracen camp they found it empty. the invaders had taken advantage of the night to begin their retreat, and were already on their way back to spain, leaving their immense plunder behind to fall into the hands of the franks. this was the celebrated battle of tours, in which vast numbers of the saracens were slain, and only fifteen hundred of the franks. charles received the surname of martel (the hammer) in consequence of this victory. the saracens, notwithstanding this severe blow, continued to hold their ground in the south of france; but pepin, the son of charles martel, who succeeded to his father's power, and assumed the title of king, successively took from them the strong places they held; and in 759, by the capture of narbonne, their capital, extinguished the remains of their power in france. charlemagne, or charles the great, succeeded his father, pepin, on the throne in the year 768. this prince, though the hero of numerous romantic legends, appears greater in history than in fiction. whether we regard him as a warrior or as a legislator, as a patron of learning or as the civilizer of a barbarous nation, he is entitled to our warmest admiration. such he is in history; but the romancers represent him as often weak and passionate, the victim of treacherous counsellors, and at the mercy of turbulent barons, on whose prowess he depends for the maintenance of his throne. the historical representation is doubtless the true one, for it is handed down in trustworthy records, and is confirmed by the events of the age. at the height of his power, the french empire extended over what we now call france, germany, switzerland, holland, belgium, and great part of italy. in the year 800 charlemagne, being in rome, whither he had gone with a numerous army to protect the pope, was crowned by the pontiff emperor of the west. on christmas day charles entered the church of st. peter, as if merely to take his part in the celebration of the mass with the rest of the congregation. when he approached the altar and stooped in the act of prayer the pope stepped forward and placed a crown of gold upon his head; and immediately the roman people shouted, "life and victory to charles the august, crowned by god the great and pacific emperor of the romans." the pope then prostrated himself before him, and paid him reverence, according to the custom established in the times of the ancient emperors, and concluded the ceremony by anointing him with consecrated oil. charlemagne's wars were chiefly against the pagan and barbarous people, who, under the name of saxons, inhabited the countries now called hanover and holland. he also led expeditions against the saracens of spain; but his wars with the saracens were not carried on, as the romances assert, in france, but on the soil of spain. he entered spain by the eastern pyrenees, and made an easy conquest of barcelona and pampeluna. but saragossa refused to open her gates to him, and charles ended by negotiating and accepting a vast sum of gold as the price of his return over the pyrenees. on his way back, he marched with his whole army through the gorges of the mountains by way of the valleys of engui, eno, and roncesvalles. the chief of this region had waited upon charlemagne, on his advance, as a faithful vassal of the monarchy; but now, on the return of the franks, he had called together all the wild mountaineers who acknowledged him as their chief, and they occupied the heights of the mountains under which the army had to pass. the main body of the troops met with no obstruction, and received no intimation of danger; but the rear-guard, which was considerably behind, and encumbered with its plunder, was overwhelmed by the mountaineers in the pass of roncesvalles, and slain to a man. some of the bravest of the frankish chiefs perished on this occasion, among whom is mentioned roland or orlando, governor of the marches or frontier of brittany. his name became famous in after times, and the disaster of roncesvalles and death of roland became eventually the most celebrated episode in the vast cycle of romance. though after this there were hostile encounters between the armies of charlemagne and the saracens, they were of small account, and generally on the soil of spain. thus the historical foundation for the stories of the romancers is but scanty, unless we suppose the events of an earlier and of a later age to be incorporated with those of charlemagne's own time. there is, however, a pretended history, which for a long time was admitted as authentic, and attributed to turpin, archbishop of rheims, a real personage of the time of charlemagne. its title is "history of charles the great and orlando." it is now unhesitatingly considered as a collection of popular traditions, produced by some credulous and unscrupulous monk, who thought to give dignity to his romance by ascribing its authorship to a well-known and eminent individual. it introduces its pretended author, bishop turpin, in this manner: "turpin, archbishop of rheims, the friend and secretary of charles the great, excellently skilled in sacred and profane literature, of a genius equally adapted to prose and verse, the advocate of the poor, beloved of god in his life and conversation, who often fought the saracens, hand to hand, by the emperor's side, he relates the acts of charles the great in one book, and flourished under charles and his son louis, to the year of our lord eight hundred and thirty." the titles of some of archbishop turpin's chapters will show the nature of his history. they are these: "of the walls of pampeluna, that fell of themselves." "of the war of the holy facundus, where the spears grew." (certain of the christians fixed their spears in the evening, erect in the ground, before the castle; and found them, in the morning, covered with bark and branches.) "how the sun stood still for three days, and of the slaughter of four thousand saracens." turpin's history has perhaps been the source of the marvellous adventures which succeeding poets and romancers have accumulated around the names of charlemagne and his paladins, or peers. but ariosto and the other italian poets have drawn from different sources, and doubtless often from their own invention, numberless other stories which they attribute to the same heroes, not hesitating to quote as their authority "the good turpin," though his history contains no trace of them; and the more outrageous the improbability, or rather the impossibility, of their narrations, the more attentive are they to cite "the archbishop," generally adding their testimonial to his unquestionable veracity. the principal italian poets who have sung the adventures of the peers of charlemagne are pulci, boiardo, and ariosto. the characters of orlando, rinaldo, astolpho, gano, and others, are the same in all, though the adventures attributed to them are different. boiardo tells us of the loves of orlando, ariosto of his disappointment and consequent madness, pulci of his death. ogier, the dane, is a real personage. history agrees with romance in representing him as a powerful lord who, originally from denmark and a pagan, embraced christianity, and took service under charlemagne. he revolted from the emperor, and was driven into exile. he afterwards led one of those bands of piratical northmen which ravaged france under the reigns of charlemagne's degenerate successors. the description which an ancient chronicler gives of charlemagne, as described by ogier, is so picturesque, that we are tempted to transcribe it. charlemagne was advancing to the siege of pavia. didier, king of the lombards, was in the city with ogier, to whom he had given refuge. when they learned that the king was approaching they mounted a high tower, whence they could see far and wide over the country. "they first saw advancing the engines of war, fit for the armies of darius or julius caesar. 'there is charlemagne,' said didier. 'no,' said ogier. the lombard next saw a vast body of soldiers, who filled all the plain. 'certainly charles advanced with that host,' said the king. 'not yet,' replied ogier. 'what hope for us,' resumed the king, 'if he brings with him a greater host than that?' at last charles appeared, his head covered with an iron helmet, his hands with iron gloves, his breast and shoulders with a cuirass of iron, his left hand holding an iron lance, while his right hand grasped his sword. those who went before the monarch, those who marched at his side, and those who followed him, all had similar arms. iron covered the fields and the roads; iron points reflected the rays of the sun. this iron, so hard, was borne by a people whose hearts were harder still. the blaze of the weapons flashed terror into the streets of the city." this picture of charlemagne in his military aspect would be incomplete without a corresponding one of his "mood of peace." one of the greatest of modern historians, m. guizot, has compared the glory of charlemagne to a brilliant meteor, rising suddenly out of the darkness of barbarism to disappear no less suddenly in the darkness of feudalism. but the light of this meteor was not extinguished, and reviving civilization owed much that was permanently beneficial to the great emperor of the franks. his ruling hand is seen in the legislation of his time, as well as in the administration of the laws. he encouraged learning; he upheld the clergy, who were the only peaceful and intellectual class, against the encroaching and turbulent barons; he was an affectionate father, and watched carefully over the education of his children, both sons and daughters. of his encouragement of learning we will give some particulars. he caused learned men to be brought from italy and from other foreign countries to revive the public schools of france, which had been prostrated by the disorders of preceding times. he recompensed these learned men liberally, and kept some of them near himself, honoring them with his friendship. of these the most celebrated is alcuin, an englishman, whose writings still remain, and prove him to have been both a learned and a wise man. with the assistance of alcuin, and others like him, he founded an academy or royal school, which should have the direction of the studies of all the schools of the kingdom. charlemagne himself was a member of this academy on equal terms with the rest. he attended its meetings, and fulfilled all the duties of an academician. each member took the name of some famous man of antiquity. alcuin called himself horace, another took the name of augustin, a third of pindar. charlemagne, who knew the psalms by heart, and who had an ambition to be, according to his conception, a king after god's own heart, received from his brother academicians the name of david. of the respect entertained for him by foreign nations an interesting proof is afforded in the embassy sent to him by the caliph of the arabians, the celebrated haroun al raschid, a prince in character and conduct not unlike to charlemagne. the ambassadors brought with them, besides other rich presents, a clock, the first that was seen in europe, which excited universal admiration. it had the form of a twelve-sided edifice with twelve doors. these doors formed niches, in each of which was a little statue representing one of the hours. at the striking of the hour the doors, one for each stroke, was seen to open, and from the doors to issue as many of the little statues, which, following one another, marched gravely round the tower. the motion of the clock was caused by water, and the striking was effected by balls of brass equal to the number of the hours, which fell upon a cymbal of the same metal, the number falling being determined by the discharge of the water, which, as it sunk in the vessel, allowed their escape. charlemagne was succeeded by his son louis, a well-intentioned but feeble prince, in whose reign the fabric reared by charles began rapidly to crumble. louis was followed successively by two charleses, incapable princes, whose weak and often tyrannical conduct is no doubt the source of incidents of that character ascribed in the romances to charlemagne. the lawless and disobedient deportment of charles's paladins, instances of which are so frequent in the romantic legends, was also a trait of the declining empire, but not of that of charlemagne. the peers, or paladins the twelve most illustrious knights of charlemagne were called peers, for the equality that reigned among them; while the name of paladins, also conferred on them, implies that they were inmates of the palace and companions of the king. their names are always given alike by the romancers, yet we may enumerate the most distinguished of them as follows: orlando or roland (the former the italian, the latter the french form of the name), favorite nephew of charlemagne; rinaldo of montalban, cousin of orlando; namo, duke of bavaria; salomon, king of brittany; turpin, the archbishop; astolpho, of england; ogier, the dane; malagigi, the enchanter; and florismart, the friend of orlando. there were others who are sometimes named as paladins, and the number cannot be strictly limited to twelve. charlemagne himself must be counted one, and ganelon, or gano, of mayence, the treacherous enemy of all the rest, was rated high on the list by his deluded sovereign, who was completely the victim of his arts. we shall introduce more particularly to our readers a few of the principal peers, leaving the others to make their own introduction as they appear in the course of our narrative. we begin with orlando. orlando milon, or milone, a knight of great family, and distantly related to charlemagne, having secretly married bertha, the emperor's sister, was banished from france, and excommunicated by the pope. after a long and miserable wandering on foot as mendicants milon and his wife arrived at sutri, in italy, where they took refuge in a cave, and in that cave orlando was born. there his mother continued, deriving a scanty support from the compassion of the neighboring peasants; while milon, in quest of honor and fortune, went into foreign lands. orlando grew up among the children of the peasantry, surpassing them all in strength and manly graces. among his companions in age, though in station far more elevated, was oliver, son of the governor of the town. between the two boys a feud arose that led to a fight, in which orlando thrashed his rival; but this did not prevent a friendship springing up between the two, which lasted through life. orlando was so poor that he was sometimes half naked. as he was a favorite of the boys, one day four of them brought some cloth to make him clothes. two brought white and two red; and from this circumstance orlando took his coat-of-arms, or quarterings. when charlemagne was on his way to rome to receive the imperial crown he dined in public in sutri. orlando and his mother that day had nothing to eat, and orlando coming suddenly upon the royal party, and seeing abundance of provisions, seized from the attendants as much as he could carry off, and made good his retreat in spite of their resistance. the emperor, being told of this incident, was reminded of an intimation he had received in a dream, and ordered the boy to be followed. this was done by three of the knights, whom orlando would have encountered with a cudgel on their entering the grotto, had not his mother restrained him. when they heard from her who she was they threw themselves at her feet, and promised to obtain her pardon from the emperor. this was easily effected. orlando was received into favor by the emperor, returned with him to france, and so distinguished himself that he became the most powerful support of the throne and of christianity. [footnote: it is plain that shakspeare borrowed from this source the similar incident in his "as you like it." the names of characters in the play, orlando, oliver, rowland indicate the same thing.] roland and ferragus orlando, or roland, particularly distinguished himself by his combat with ferragus. ferragus was a giant, and moreover his skin was of such impenetrable stuff that no sword could make any impression upon it. the giant's mode of fighting was to seize his adversary in his arms and carry him off, in spite of all the struggles he could make. roland's utmost skill only availed to keep him out of the giant's clutches, but all his efforts to wound him with the sword were useless. after long fighting ferragus was so weary that he proposed a truce, and when it was agreed upon he lay down and immediately fell asleep. he slept in perfect security, for it was against all the laws of chivalry to take advantage of an adversary under such circumstances. but ferragus lay so uncomfortably for the want of a pillow that orlando took pity upon him, and brought a smooth stone and placed it under his head. when the giant woke up, after a refreshing nap, and perceived what orlando had done, he seemed quite grateful, became sociable, and talked freely in the usual boastful style of such characters. among other things he told orlando that he need not attempt to kill him with a sword, for that every part of his body was invulnerable, except this; and as he spoke, he put his hand to the vital part, just in the middle of his breast. aided by this information orlando succeeded, when the fight was renewed, in piercing the giant in the very spot he had pointed out, and giving him a death-wound. great was the rejoicing in the christian camp, and many the praises showered upon the victorious paladin by the emperor and all his host. on another occasion orlando encountered a puissant saracen warrior, and took from him, as the prize of victory, the sword durindana. this famous weapon had once belonged to the illustrious prince hector of troy. it was of the finest workmanship, and of such strength and temper that no armor in the world could stand against it. a roland for an oliver guerin de montglave held the lordship of vienne, subject to charlemagne. he had quarrelled with his sovereign, and charles laid siege to his city, having ravaged the neighboring country. guerin was an aged warrior, but relied for his defence upon his four sons and two grandsons, who were among the bravest knights of the age. after the siege had continued two months charlemagne received tidings that marsilius, king of spain, had invaded france, and, finding himself unopposed, was advancing rapidly in the southern provinces. at this intelligence charles listened to the counsel of his peers, and consented to put the quarrel with guerin to the decision of heaven, by single combat between two knights, one of each party, selected by lot. the proposal was acceptable to guerin and his sons. the names of the four, together with guerin's own, who would not be excused, and of the two grandsons, who claimed their lot, being put into a helmet, oliver's was drawn forth, and to him, the youngest of the grandsons, was assigned the honor and the peril of the combat. he accepted the award with delight, exulting in being thought worthy to maintain the cause of his family. on charlemagne's side roland was the designated champion, and neither he nor oliver knew who his antagonist was to be. they met on an island in the rhone, and the warriors of both camps were ranged on either shore, spectators of the battle. at the first encounter both lances were shivered, but both riders kept their seats, immovable. they dismounted, and drew their swords. then ensued a combat which seemed so equal, that the spectators could not form an opinion as to the probable issue. two hours and more the knights continued to strike and parry, to thrust and ward, neither showing any sign of weariness, nor ever being taken at unawares. at length orlando struck furiously upon oliver's shield, burying durindana in its edge so deeply that he could not draw it back, and oliver, almost at the same moment, thrust so vigorously upon orlando's breastplate that his sword snapped off at the handle. thus were the two warriors left weaponless. scarcely pausing a moment, they rushed upon one another, each striving to throw his adversary to the ground, and failing in that, each snatched at the other's helmet to tear it away. both succeeded, and at the same moment they stood bare-headed face to face, and roland recognized oliver, and oliver roland. for a moment they stood still; and the next, with open arms, rushed into one another's embrace. "i am conquered," said orlando. "i yield me." said oliver. the people on the shore knew not what to make of all this. presently they saw the two late antagonists standing hand in hand, and it was evident the battle was at an end. the knights crowded round them, and with one voice hailed them as equals in glory. if there were any who felt disposed to murmur that the battle was left undecided they were silenced by the voice of ogier the dane, who proclaimed aloud that all had been done that honor required, and declared that he would maintain that award against all gainsayers. the quarrel with guerin and his sons being left undecided, a truce was made for four days, and in that time, by the efforts of duke namo on the one side, and of oliver on the other, a reconciliation was effected. charlemagne, accompanied by guerin and his valiant family, marched to meet marsilius, who hastened to retreat across the frontier. rinaldo rinaldo was one of the four sons of aymon, who married aya, the sister of charlemagne. thus rinaldo was nephew to charlemagne and cousin of orlando. when rinaldo had grown old enough to assume arms orlando had won for himself an illustrious name by his exploits against the saracens, whom charlemagne and his brave knights had driven out of france. orlando's fame excited a noble emulation in rinaldo. eager to go in pursuit of glory, he wandered in the country near paris, and one day saw at the foot of a tree a superb horse, fully equipped and loaded with a complete suit of armor. rinaldo clothed himself in the armor and mounted the horse, but took not the sword. on the day when, with his brothers, he had received the honor of knighthood from the emperor he had sworn never to bind a sword to his side till he had wrested one from some famous knight. rinaldo took his way to the forest of arden, celebrated for so many adventures. hardly had he entered it when he met an old man, bending under the weight of years, and learned from him that the forest was infested with a wild horse, untamable, that broke and overturned everything that opposed his career. to attack him, he said, or even to meet him, was certain death. rinaldo, far from being alarmed, showed the most eager desire to combat the animal. this was the horse bayard, afterward so famous. he had formerly belonged to amadis of gaul. after the death of that hero he had been held under enchantment by the power of a magician, who predicted that, when the time came to break the spell, he should be subdued by a knight of the lineage of amadis, and not less brave than he. to win this wonderful horse it was necessary to conquer him by force or skill; for from the moment when he should be thrown down he would become docile and manageable. his habitual resort was a cave on the borders of the forest; but woe be to any one who should approach him, unless gifted with strength and courage more than mortal. having told this, the old man departed. he was not, in fact, an old man, but malagigi, the enchanter, cousin of rinaldo, who, to favor the enterprises of the young knight, had procured for him the horse and armor which he so opportunely found, and now put him in the way to acquire a horse unequalled in the world. rinaldo plunged into the forest, and spent many days in seeking bayard, but found no traces of him. one day he encountered a saracen knight, with whom he made acquaintance, as often happened to knights, by first meeting him in combat. this knight, whose name was isolier, was also in quest of bayard. rinaldo succeeded in the encounter, and so severe was the shock that isolier was a long time insensible. when he revived, and was about to resume the contest, a peasant who passed by (it was malagigi) interrupted them with the news that the terrible horse was near at hand, advising them to unite their powers to subdue him, for it would require all their ability. rinaldo and isolier, now become friends, proceeded together to the attack of the horse. they found bayard, and stood a long time, concealed by the wood, admiring his strength and beauty. a bright bay in color (whence he was called bayard), with a silver star in his forehead, and his hind feet white, his body slender, his head delicate, his ample chest filled out with swelling muscles, his shoulders broad and full, his legs straight and sinewy, his thick mane falling over his arching neck,--he came rushing through the forest, regardless of rocks, bushes, or trees, rending everything that opposed his way, and neighing defiance. he first descried isolier, and rushed upon him. the knight received him with lance in rest, but the fierce animal broke the spear, and his course was not delayed by it for an instant. the spaniard adroitly stepped aside, and gave way to the rushing tempest. bayard checked his career, and turned again upon the knight, who had already drawn his sword. he drew his sword, for he had no hope of taming the horse; that, he was satisfied, was impossible. bayard rushed upon him; fiercely rearing, now on this side, now on that. the knight struck him with his sword, where the white star adorned his forehead, but struck in vain, and felt ashamed, thinking that he had struck feebly, for he did not know that the skin of that horse was so tough that the keenest sword could make no impression upon it. whistling fell the sword once more, and struck with greater force, and the fierce horse felt it, and drooped his head under the blow, but the next moment turned upon his foe with such a buffet that the pagan fell stunned and lifeless to the earth. rinaldo, who saw isolier fall, and thought that his life was reft, darted towards the horse, and, with his fist gave him such a blow on the jaws that the blood tinged his mouth with vermilion. quicker than an arrow leaves the bow the horse turned upon him, and tried to seize his arm with his teeth. the knight stepped back, and then, repeating his blow, struck him on the forehead. bayard turned, and kicked with both his feet with a force that would have shattered a mountain. rinaldo was on his guard, and evaded his attacks, whether made with head or heels. he kept at his side avoiding both; but, making a false step, he at last received a terrible blow from the horse's foot, and at the shock almost fainted away. a second such blow would have killed him, but the horse kicked at random, and a second blow did not reach rinaldo, who in a moment recovered himself. thus the contest continued until by chance bayard's foot got caught between the branches of an oak. rinaldo seized it and putting forth all his strength and address, threw him on the ground. no sooner had bayard touched the ground than all his rage subsided. no longer an object of terror, he became gentle and quiet, yet with dignity in his mildness. the paladin patted his neck, stroked his breast, and smoothed his mane, while the animal neighed and showed delight to be caressed by his master. rinaldo, seeing him now completely subdued, took the saddle and trappings from the other horse, and adorned bayard with the spoils. rinaldo became one of the most illustrious knights of charlemagne's court,--indeed, the most illustrious, if we except orlando. yet he was not always so obedient to the emperor's commands as he should have been, and every fault he committed was sure to be aggravated by the malice of gan, duke of maganza, the treacherous enemy of rinaldo and all his house. at one time rinaldo had incurred the severe displeasure of charlemagne, and been banished from court. seeing no chance of being ever restored to favor, he went to spain, and entered into the service of the saracen king, ivo. his brothers, alardo, ricardo, and ricciardetto, accompanied him, and all four served the king so faithfully that they rose to high favor with him. the king gave them land in the mountains on the frontiers of france and spain, and subjected all the country round to rinaldo's authority. there was plenty of marble in the mountains, the king furnished workmen, and they built a castle for rinaldo, surrounded with high walls, so as to be almost impregnable. built of white stone, and placed on the brow of a marble promontory, the castle shone like a star, and rinaldo gave it the name of montalban. here he assembled his friends, many of whom were banished men like himself, and the country people furnished them with provisions in return for the protection the castle afforded. yet some of rinaldo's men were lawless, and sometimes the supplies were not furnished in sufficient abundance, so that rinaldo and his garrison got a bad name for taking by force what they could not obtain by gift; and we sometimes find montalban spoken of as a nest of freebooters, and its defenders called a beggarly garrison. charlemagne's displeasure did not last long, and, at the time our history commences, rinaldo and his brothers were completely restored to the favor of the emperor, and none of his cavaliers served him with greater zeal and fidelity than they, throughout all his wars with the saracens and pagans. the tournament it was the month of may, and the feast of pentecost. charlemagne had ordered magnificent festivities, and summoned to them, besides his paladins and vassals of the crown, all strangers, christian or saracen, then sojourning at paris. among the guests were king grandonio, from spain; and ferrau, the saracen, with eyes like an eagle; orlando and rinaldo, the emperor's nephews; duke namo; astolpho, of england, the handsomest man living; malagigi, the enchanter; and gano, of maganza, that wily traitor, who had the art to make the emperor think he loved him, while he plotted against him. high sat charlemagne at the head of his vassals and his paladins, rejoicing in the thought of their number and their might, while all were sitting and hearing music, and feasting, when suddenly there came into the hall four enormous giants, having between them a lady of incomparable beauty, attended by a single knight. there were many ladies present who had seemed beautiful till she made her appearance, but after that they all seemed nothing. every christian knight turned his eyes to her, and every pagan crowded round her, while she, with a sweetness that might have touched a heart of stone, thus addressed the emperor: "high-minded lord, the renown of your worthiness, and of the valor of these your knights, which echoes from sea to sea, encourages me to hope that two pilgrims, who have come from the ends of the world to behold you, will not have encountered their fatigue in vain. and, before i show the motive which has brought us hither, learn that this knight is my brother uberto, and that i am his sister angelica. fame has told us of the jousting this day appointed, and so the prince my brother has come to prove his valor, and to say that, if any of the knights here assembled choose to meet him in the joust, he will encounter them, one by one, at the stair of merlin, by the fountain of the pine. and his conditions are these: no knight who chances to be thrown shall be allowed to renew the combat, but shall remain prisoner to my brother; but if my brother be overthrown he shall depart out of the country, leaving me as the prize of the conqueror." now it must be stated that this angelica and her brother, who called himself uberto, but whose real name was argalia, were the children of galafron, king of cathay, who had sent them to be the destruction of the christian host; for argalia was armed with an enchanted lance, which unfailingly overthrew everything it touched, and he was mounted on a horse, a creature of magic, whose swiftness outstripped the wind. angelica possessed also a ring which was a defence against all enchantments, and when put into the mouth rendered the bearer invisible. thus argalia was expected to subdue and take prisoners whatever knights should dare to encounter him; and the charms of angelica were relied on to entice the paladins to make the fatal venture, while her ring would afford her easy means of escape. when angelica ceased sneaking she knelt before the king and awaited his answer, and everybody gazed on her with admiration. orlando especially felt irresistibly drawn towards her, so that he trembled and changed countenance. every knight in the hall was infected with the same feeling, not excepting old white-headed duke namo and charlemagne himself. all stood for a while in silence, lost in the delight of looking at her. the fiery youth ferrau could hardly restrain himself from seizing her from the giants and carrying her away; rinaldo turned as red as fire, while malagigi, who had discovered by his art that the stranger was not speaking truth, muttered softly, as he looked at her, "exquisite false creature! i will play thee such a trick for this, as will leave thee no cause to boast of thy visit." charlemagne, to detain her as long as possible before him, delayed his assent till he had asked her a number of questions, all which she answered discreetly, and then the challenge was accepted. as soon as she was gone malagigi consulted his book, and found out the whole plot of the vile, infidel king, galafron, as we have explained it, so he determined to seek the damsel and frustrate her designs. he hastened to the appointed spot, and there found the prince and his sister in a beautiful pavilion, where they lay asleep, while the four giants kept watch. malagigi took his book and cast a spell out of it, and immediately the four giants fell into a deep sleep. drawing his sword (for he was a belted knight), he softly approached the young lady, intending to despatch her at once; but, seeing her look so lovely, he paused for a moment, thinking there was no need of hurry, as he believed his spell was upon her, and she could not wake. but the ring which she wore secured her from the effect of the spell, and some slight noise, or whatever else it was, caused her at that moment to awake. she uttered a great cry, and flew to her brother, and waked him. by the help of her knowledge of enchantment, they took and bound fast the magician, and, seizing his book, turned his arts against himself. then they summoned a crowd of demons, and bade them seize their prisoner and bear him to king galafron, at his great city of albracca, which they did, and, on his arrival, he was locked up in a rock under the sea. while these things were going on all was uproar at paris, since orlando insisted upon being the first to try the adventure at the stair of merlin. this was resented by the other pretenders to angelica, and all contested his right to the precedence. the tumult was stilled by the usual expedient of drawing lots, and the first prize was drawn by astolpho. ferrau, the saracen, had the second, and grandonio the third. next came berlinghieri, and otho; then charles himself, and, as his ill-fortune would have it, after thirty more, the indignant orlando. astolpho, who drew the first lot, was handsome, brave, and rich. but, whether from heedlessness or want of skill, he was an unlucky jouster, and very apt to be thrown, an accident which he bore with perfect good-humor, always ready to mount again and try to mend his fortune, generally with no better success. astolpho went forth upon his adventure with great gayety of dress and manner, encountered argalia, and was immediately tilted out of the saddle. he railed at fortune, to whom he laid all the fault; but his painful feelings were somewhat relieved by the kindness of angelica, who, touched by his youth and good looks, granted him the liberty of the pavilion, and caused him to be treated with all kindness and respect. the violent ferrau had the next chance in the encounter, and was thrown no less speedily than astolpho; but he did not so easily put up with his mischance. crying out, "what are the emperor's engagements to me?" he rushed with his sword against argalia, who, being forced to defend himself, dismounted and drew his sword, but got so much the worse of the fight that he made a signal of surrender, and, after some words, listened to a proposal of marriage from ferrau to his sister. the beauty, however, feeling no inclination to match with such a rough and savage-looking person, was so dismayed at the offer, that, hastily bidding her brother to meet her in the forest of arden, she vanished from the sight of both by means of the enchanted ring. argalia, seeing this, took to his horse of swiftness, and dashed away in the same direction. ferrau pursued him, and astolpho, thus left to himself, took possession of the enchanted lance in place of his own, which was broken, not knowing the treasure he possessed in it, and returned to the tournament. charlemagne, finding the lady and her brother gone, ordered the jousting to proceed as at first intended, in which astolpho, by aid of the enchanted lance, unhorsed all comers against him, equally to their astonishment and his own. the paladin rinaldo, on learning the issue of the combat of ferrau and the stranger, galloped after the fair fugitive in an agony of love and impatience. orlando, perceiving his disappearance, pushed forth in like manner; and, at length, all three are in the forest of arden, hunting about for her who is invisible. now in this forest there were two fountains, the one constructed by the sage merlin, who designed it for tristram and the fair isoude; [footnote: see their story in "king arthur and his knights."] for such was the virtue of this fountain, that a draught of its waters produced on oblivion of the love which the drinker might feel, and even produced aversion for the object formerly beloved. the other fountain was endowed with exactly opposite qualities, and a draught of it inspired love for the first living object that was seen after tasting it. rinaldo happened to come to the first mentioned fountain, and, being flushed with heat, dismounted, and quenched in one draught both his thirst and his passion. so far from loving angelica as before he hated her from the bottom of his heart, became disgusted with the search he was upon, and, feeling fatigued with his ride, finding a sheltered and flowery nook, laid himself down and fell asleep. shortly after came angelica, but, approaching in a different direction, she espied the other fountain, and there quenched her thirst. then resuming her way, she came upon the sleeping rinaldo. love instantly seized her, and she stood rooted to the spot. the meadow round was all full of lilies of the valley and wild roses. angelica, not knowing what to do, at length plucked a handful of these, and dropped them, one by one, on the face of the sleeper. he woke up, and, seeing who it was, received her salutations with averted countenance, remounted his horse, and galloped away. in vain the beautiful creature followed and called after him, in vain asked him what she had done to be so despised. rinaldo disappeared, leaving her in despair, and she returned in tears to the spot where she had found him sleeping. there, in her turn, she herself lay down, pressing the spot of earth on which he had lain, and, out of fatigue and sorrow, fell asleep. as angelica thus lay, fortune conducted orlando to the same place. the attitude in which she was sleeping was so lovely that it is not to be conceived, much less expressed. orlando stood gazing like a man who had been transported to another sphere. "am i on earth," he exclaimed, "or am i in paradise? surely it is i that sleep, and this is my dream." but his dream was proved to be none in a manner which he little desired. ferrau, who had slain argalia, came up, raging with jealousy, and a combat ensued which awoke the sleeper. terrified at what she beheld, she rushed to her palfrey, and, while the fighters were occupied with one another, fled away through the forest. the champions continued their fight till they were interrupted by a messenger, who brought word to ferrau that king marsilius, his sovereign, was in pressing need of his assistance, and conjured him to return to spain. ferrau, upon this, proposed to suspend the combat, to which orlando, eager to pursue angelica, agreed. ferrau, on the other hand, departed with the messenger to spain. orlando's quest for the fair fugitive was all in vain. aided by the powers of magic, she made a speedy return to her own country. but the thought of rinaldo could not be banished from her mind, and she determined to set malagigi at liberty, and to employ him to win rinaldo, if possible, to make her a return of affection. she accordingly freed him from his dungeon, unlocking his fetters with her own hands, and restored him his book, promising him ample honors and rewards on condition of his bringing rinaldo to her feet. malagigi accordingly, with the aid of his book, called up a demon, mounted him, and departed. arrived at his destination, he inveigled rinaldo into an enchanted bark, which conveyed him, without any visible pilot, to an island where stood an edifice called joyous castle. the whole island was a garden. on the western side, close to the sea, was the palace, built of marble, so clear and polished that it reflected the landscape about it. rinaldo leapt ashore, and soon met a lady, who invited him to enter. the house was as beautiful within as without, full of rooms adorned with azure and gold, and with noble paintings. the lady led the knight into an apartment painted with stories, and opening to the garden, through pillars of crystal, with golden capitals. here he found a bevy of ladies, three of whom were singing in concert, while another played on an instrument of exquisite accord, and the rest danced round about them. when the ladies beheld him coming they turned the dance into a circuit round him, and then one of them, in the sweetest manner, said, "sir knight, the tables are set, and the hour for the banquet is come;" and, with these words, still dancing, they drew him across the lawn in front of the apartment, to a table that was spread with cloth of gold and fine linen, under a bower of damask roses by the side of a fountain. four ladies were already seated there, who rose, and placed rinaldo at their head, in a chair set with pearls. and truly indeed was he astonished. a repast ensued, consisting of viands the most delicate, and wines as fragrant as they were fine, drunk out of jewelled cups; and, when it drew towards its conclusion, harps and lutes were heard in the distance, and one of the ladies said in the knight's ear: "this house and all that you see in it are yours; for you alone was it built, and the builder is a queen. happy indeed must you think yourself, for she loves you, and she is the greatest beauty in the world! her name is angelica." the moment rinaldo heard the name he so detested he started up, with a changed countenance, and, in spite of all that the lady could say, broke off across the garden, and never ceased hastening till he reached the place where he landed. the bark was still on the shore. he sprang into it, and pushed off, though he saw nobody in it but himself. it was in vain for him to try to control its movements, for it dashed on as if in fury, till it reached a distant shore covered with a gloomy forest. here rinaldo, surrounded by enchantments of a very different sort from those which he had lately resisted, was entrapped into a pit. the pit belonged to a castle called altaripa, which was hung with human heads, and painted red with blood. as the paladin was viewing the scene with amazement a hideous old woman made her appearance at the edge of the pit, and told him that he was destined to be thrown to a monster, who was only kept from devastating the whole country by being supplied with living human flesh. rinaldo said, "be it so; let me but remain armed as i am, and i fear nothing." the old woman laughed in derision. rinaldo remained in the pit all night, and the next morning was taken to the place where the monster had his den. it was a court surrounded by a high wall. rinaldo was shut in with the beast, and a terrible combat ensued. rinaldo was unable to make any impression on the scales of the monster, while he, on the contrary, with his dreadful claws, tore away plate and mail from the paladin. rinaldo began to think his last hour was come, and cast his eyes around and above to see if there was any means of escape. he perceived a beam projecting from the wall at the height of some ten feet, and, taking a leap almost miraculous, he succeeded in reaching it, and in flinging himself up across it. here he sat for hours, the hideous brute continually trying to reach him. all at once he heard the sound of something coming through the air like a bird, and suddenly angelica herself alighted on the end of the beam. she held something in her hand towards him, and spoke to him in a loving voice. but the moment rinaldo saw her he commanded her to go away, refused all her offers of assistance, and at length declared that, if she did not leave him, he would cast himself down to the monster, and meet his fate. angelica, saying she would lose her life rather than displease him, departed; but first she threw to the monster a cake of wax she had prepared, and spread around him a rope knotted with nooses. the beast took the bait, and, finding his teeth glued together by the wax, vented his fury in bounds and leaps, and, soon getting entangled in the nooses, drew them tight by his struggles, so that he could scarcely move a limb. rinaldo, watching his chance, leapt down upon his back, seized him round the neck, and throttled him, not relaxing his gripe till the beast fell dead. another difficulty remained to be overcome. the walls were of immense height, and the only opening in them was a grated window of such strength that he could not break the bars. in his distress rinaldo found a file, which angelica had left on the ground, and, with the help of this, effected his deliverance. what further adventures he met with will be told in another chapter. the siege of albracca at the very time when charlemagne was holding his plenary court and his great tournament his kingdom was invaded by a mighty monarch, who was moreover so valiant and strong in battle that no one could stand against him. he was named gradasso, and his kingdom was called sericane. now, as it often happens to the greatest and the richest to long for what they cannot have, and thus to lose what they already possess, this king could not rest content without durindana, the sword of orlando, and bayard, the horse of rinaldo. to obtain these he determined to war upon france, and for this purpose put in array a mighty army. he took his way through spain, and, after defeating marsilius, the king of that country, in several battles, was rapidly advancing on france. charlemagne, though marsilius was a saracen, and had been his enemy, yet felt it needful to succor him in this extremity from a consideration of common danger, and, with the consent of his peers, despatched rinaldo with a strong body of soldiers against gradasso. there was much fighting, with doubtful results, and gradasso was steadily advancing into france. but, impatient to achieve his objects, he challenged rinaldo to single combat, to be fought on foot, and upon these conditions: if rinaldo conquered, gradasso agreed to give up all his prisoners and return to his own country; but if gradasso won the day, he was to have bayard. the challenge was accepted, and would have been fought had it not been for the arts of malagigi, who just then returned from angelica's kingdom with set purpose to win rinaldo to look with favor upon the fair princess who was dying for love of him. malagigi drew rinaldo away from the army by putting on the semblance of gradasso, and, after a short contest, pretending to fly before him, by which means rinaldo was induced to follow him into a boat, in which he was borne away, and entangled in various adventures, as we have already related. the army, left under the command of ricciardetto, rinaldo's brother, was soon joined by charlemagne and all his peerage, but experienced a disastrous rout, and the emperor and many of his paladins were taken prisoners. gradasso, however, did not abuse his victory; he took charles by the hand, seated him by his side, and told him he warred only for honor. he renounced all conquests, on condition that the emperor should deliver to him bayard and durindana, both of them the property of his vassals, the former of which, as he maintained, was already forfeited to him by rinaldo's failure to meet him as agreed. to these terms charlemagne readily acceded. bayard, after the departure of his master, had been taken in charge by ricciardetto, and sent back to paris, where astolpho was in command, in the absence of charlemagne. astolpho received with great indignation the message despatched for bayard, and replied by a herald that "he would not surrender the horse of his kinsman rinaldo without a contest. if gradasso wanted the steed he might come and take him, and that he, astolpho, was ready to meet him in the field." gradasso was only amused at this answer, for astolpho's fame as a successful warrior was not high, and gradasso willingly renewed with him the bargain which he had made with rinaldo. on these conditions the battle was fought. the enchanted lance, in the hands of astolpho, performed a new wonder; and gradasso, the terrible gradasso, was unhorsed. he kept his word, set free his prisoners, and put his army on the march to return to his own country, renewing his oath, however, not to rest till he had taken from rinaldo his horse, and from orlando his sword, or lost his life in the attempt. charlemagne, full of gratitude to astolpho, would have kept him near his person and loaded him with honors, but astolpho preferred to seek rinaldo, with the view of restoring to him his horse, and departed from paris with that design. our story now returns to orlando, whom we left fascinated with the sight of the sleeping beauty, who, however, escaped him while engaged in the combat with ferrau. having long sought her in vain through the recesses of the wood, he resolved to follow her to her father's court. leaving, therefore, the camp of charlemagne, he travelled long in the direction of the east, making inquiry everywhere, if, perchance, he might get tidings of the fugitive. after many adventures, he arrived one day at a place where many roads crossed, and meeting there a courier, he asked him for news. the courier replied that he had been despatched by angelica to solicit the aid of sacripant, king of circassia, in favor of her father galafron, who was besieged in his city, albracca, by agrican, king of tartary. this agrican had been an unsuccessful suitor to the damsel, whom he now pursued with arms. orlando thus learned that he was within a day's journey of albracca; and, feeling now secure of angelica, he proceeded with all speed to her city. thus journeying he arrived at a bridge, under which flowed a foaming river. here a damsel met him with a goblet, and informed him that it was the usage of this bridge to present the traveller with a cup. orlando accepted the offered cup and drank its contents. he had no sooner done so than his brain reeled, and he became unconscious of the object of his journey, and of everything else. under the influence of this fascination he followed the damsel into a magnificent and marvellous palace. here he found himself in company with many knights, unknown to him and to each other, though if it had not been for the cup of oblivion of which they all had partaken they would have found themselves brothers in arms. astolpho, proceeding on his way to seek rinaldo, splendidly dressed and equipped, as was his wont, arrived in circassia, and found there a great army encamped under the command of sacripant, the king of that country, who was leading it to the defence of galafron, the father of angelica. sacripant, much struck by the appearance of astolpho and his horse, accosted him courteously, and tried to enlist him in his service; but astolpho, proud of his late victories, scornfully declined his offers, and pursued his way. king sacripant was too much attracted by his appearance to part with him so easily, and having laid aside his kingly ornaments, set out in pursuit of him. astolpho next day encountered on his way a stranger knight, named sir florismart, lord of the sylvan tower, one of the bravest and best of knights, having as his guide a damsel, young, fair, and virtuous, to whom he was tenderly attached, whose name was flordelis. astolpho, as he approached, defied the knight, bidding him yield the lady, or prepare to maintain his right by arms. florismart accepted the contest, and the knights encountered. florismart was unhorsed and his steed fell dead, while bayard sustained no injury by the shock. florismart was so overwhelmed with despair at his own disgrace and the sight of the damsel's distress, that he drew his sword, and was about to plunge it into his own bosom. but astolpho held his hand, told him that he contended only for glory, and was contented to leave him the lady. while florismart and flordelis were vowing eternal gratitude king sacripant arrived, and coveting the damsel of the one champion as much as the horse and arms of the other, defied them to the joust. astolpho met the challenger, whom he instantly overthrew, and presented his courser to florismart, leaving the king to return to his army on foot. the friends pursued their route, and ere long flordelis discovered, by signs which were known to her, that they were approaching the waters of oblivion, and advised them to turn back, or to change their course. this the knights would not hear of, and, continuing their march, they soon arrived at the bridge where orlando had been taken prisoner. the damsel of the bridge appeared as before with the enchanted cup, but astolpho, forewarned, rejected it with scorn. she dashed it to the ground, and a fire blazed up which rendered the bridge unapproachable. at the same moment the two knights were assailed by sundry warriors, known and unknown, who, having no recollection of anything, joined blindly in defence of their prison-house. among these was orlando, at sight of whom astolpho, with all his confidence not daring to encounter him, turned and fled, owing his escape to the strength and fleetness of bayard. florismart, meanwhile, overlaid by fearful odds, was compelled to yield to necessity, and comply with the usage of the fairy. he drank of the cup and remained prisoner with the rest. flordelis, deprived of her two friends, retired from the scene, and devoted herself to untiring efforts to effect her lover's deliverance. astolpho pursued his way to albracca, which agrican was about to besiege. he was kindly welcomed by angelica, and enrolled among her defenders. impatient to distinguish himself, he one night sallied forth alone, arrived in agrican's camp, and unhorsed his warriors right and left by means of the enchanted lance. but he was soon surrounded and overmatched, and made prisoner to agrican. relief was, however, at hand; for as the citizens and soldiers were one day leaning over their walls they descried a cloud of dust, from which horsemen were seen to prick forth, as it rolled on towards the camp of the besiegers. this turned out to be the army of sacripant, which immediately attacked that of agrican, with the view of cutting a passage through his camp to the besieged city. but agrican, mounted upon bayard, taken from astolpho, but not armed with the lance of gold, the virtues of which were unknown to him, performed wonders, and rallied his scattered troops, which had given way to the sudden and unexpected assault. sacripant, on the other hand, encouraged his men by the most desperate acts of valor, having as an additional incentive to his courage the sight of angelica, who showed herself upon the city walls. there she witnessed a single combat between the two leaders, agrican and sacripant. in this, at length, her defender appeared to be overmatched, when the circassians broke the ring, and separated the combatants, who were borne asunder in the rush. sacripant, severely wounded, profited by the confusion, and escaped into albracca, where he was kindly received and carefully tended by angelica. the battle continuing, the circassians were at last put to flight, and, being intercepted between the enemy's lines and the town, sought for refuge under the walls. angelica ordered the drawbridge to be let down, and the gates thrown open to the fugitives. with these agrican, not distinguished in the crowd, entered the place, driving both circassians and cathayans before him, and the portcullis being dropped, he was shut in. for a time the terror which he inspired put to flight all opposers, but when at last it came to be known that few or none of his followers had effected an entrance with him, the fugitives rallied and surrounded him on all sides. while he was thus apparently reduced to the last extremities, he was saved by the very circumstance which threatened him with destruction. the soldiers of angelica, closing upon him from all sides, deserted their defences; and his own besieging army entered the city in a part where the wall was broken down. in this way was agrican rescued, the city taken, and the inhabitants put to the sword. angelica, however, with some of the knights who were her defenders, among whom was sacripant, saved herself in the citadel, which was planted upon a rock. the fortress was impregnable, but it was scantily victualled, and ill provided with other necessaries. under these circumstances angelica announced to those blockaded with her in the citadel her intention to go in quest of assistance, and, having plighted her promise of a speedy return, she set out, with the enchanted ring upon her finger. mounted upon her palfrey, the damsel passed through the enemy's lines, and by sunrise was many miles clear of their encampment. it so happened that her road led her near the fatal bridge of oblivion, and as she approached it she met a damsel weeping bitterly. it was flordelis, whose lover, florismart, as we have related, had met the fate of orlando and many more, and fallen a victim to the enchantress of the cup. she related her adventures to angelica, and conjured her to lend what aid she might to rescue her lord and his companions. angelica, accordingly, watching her opportunity and aided by her ring, slipped into the castle unseen, when the door was opened to admit a new victim. here she speedily disenchanted orlando and the rest by a touch of her talisman. but florismart was not there. he had been given up to falerina, a more powerful enchantress, and was still in durance. angelica conjured the rescued captives to assist her in the recovery of her kingdom, and all departed together for albracca. the arrival of orlando, with his companions, nine in all, and among the bravest knights of france, changed at once the fortunes of the war. wherever the great paladin came, pennon and standard fell before him. agrican in vain attempted to rally his troops. orlando kept constantly in his front, forcing him to attend to nobody else. the tartar king at length bethought him of a stratagem. he turned his horse, and made a show of flying in despair. orlando dashed after him as he desired, and agrican fled till he reached a green place in a wood, where there was a fountain. the place was beautiful, and the tartar dismounted to refresh himself at the fountain, but without taking off his helmet, or laying aside any of his armor. orlando was quickly at his back, crying out, "so bold, and yet a fugitive! how could you fly from a single arm and think to escape?" the tartar king had leaped on his saddle the moment he saw his enemy, and when the paladin had done speaking, he said in a mild voice, "without doubt you are the best knight i ever encountered, and fain would i leave you untouched for your own sake, if you would cease to hinder me from rallying my people. i pretended to fly, in order to bring you out of the field. if you insist upon fighting i must needs fight and slay you, but i call the sun in the heavens to witness i would rather not. i should be very sorry for your death." the count orlando felt pity for so much gallantry, and he said, "the nobler you show yourself the more it grieves me to think that in dying without a knowledge of the true faith you will be lost in the other world. let me advise you to save body and soul at once. receive baptism, and go your way in peace." agrican replied: "i suspect you to be the paladin orlando. if you are i would not lose this opportunity of fighting with you to be king of paradise. talk to me no more about your things of another world, for you will preach in vain. each of us for himself, and let the sword be umpire." the saracen drew his sword, boldly advancing upon orlando, and a combat began, so obstinate and so long, each warrior being a miracle of prowess, that the story says it lasted from noon till night. orlando then seeing the stars come out was the first to propose a respite. "what are we to do," said he, "now that daylight has left us?" agrican answered readily enough, "let us repose in this meadow, and renew the combat at dawn." the repose was taken accordingly. each tied up his horse, and reclined himself on the grass, not far from the other, just as if they had been friends, orlando by the fountain, agrican beneath a pine. it was a beautiful clear night, and, as they talked together before addressing themselves to sleep, the champion of christendom, looking up at the firmament, said, "that is a fine piece of workmanship, that starry spectacle; god made it all, that moon of silver, and those stars of gold, and the light of day, and the sun,--all for the sake of human kind." "you wish, i see, to talk of matters of faith," said the tartar. "now i may as well tell you at once that i have no sort of skill in such matters, nor learning of any kind. i never could learn anything when i was a boy. i hated it so that i broke the man's head who was commissioned to teach me; and it produced such an effect on others that nobody ever afterwards dared so much as show me a book. my boyhood was therefore passed, as it should be, in horsemanship and hunting, and learning to fight. what is the good of a gentleman's poring all day over a book? prowess to the knight, and preaching to the clergyman, that is my motto." "i acknowledge," returned orlando, "that arms are the first consideration of a gentleman; but not at all that he does himself dishonor by knowledge. on the contrary, knowledge is as great an embellishment of the rest of his attainments, as the flowers are to the meadow before us; and as to the knowledge of his maker, the man that is without it is no better than a stock or a stone or a brute beast. neither without study can he reach anything of a due sense of the depth and divineness of the contemplation." "learned or not learned," said agrican, "you might show yourself better bred than by endeavoring to make me talk on a subject on which you have me at a disadvantage. if you choose to sleep i wish you good night; but if you prefer talking i recommend you to talk of fighting or of fair ladies. and, by the way, pray tell me, are you not that orlando who makes such a noise in the world? and what is it, pray, that brings you into these parts? were you ever in love? i suppose you must have been; for to be a knight, and never to have been in love, would be like being a man without a heart in his breast." the count replied: "orlando i am, and in love i am. love has made me abandon everything, and brought me into these distant regions, and, to tell you all in one word, my heart is in the hands of the daughter of king galafron. you have come against him with fire and sword, to get possession of his castles and his dominions; and i have come to help him, for no object in the world but to please his daughter and win her beautiful hand. i care for nothing else in existence." now when the tartar king, agrican, heard his antagonist speak in this manner, and knew him to be indeed orlando, and to be in love with angelica, his face changed color for grief and jealousy, though it could not be seen for the darkness. his heart began beating with such violence that he felt as if he should have died. "well," said he to orlando, "we are to fight when it is daylight, and one or other is to be left here, dead on the ground. i have a proposal to make to you--nay, an entreaty. my love is so excessive for the same lady that i beg you to leave her to me. i will owe you my thanks, and give up the siege and put an end to the war. i cannot bear that any one should love her, and that i should live to see it. why, therefore, should either of us perish? give her up. not a soul shall know it." "i never yet," answered orlando, "made a promise which i did not keep, and nevertheless i own to you that, were i to make a promise like that, and even swear to keep it, i should not. you might as well ask me to tear away the limbs from my body, and the eyes out of my head. i could as well live without breath itself as cease loving angelica." agrican had hardly patience to let him finish speaking, ere he leapt furiously on horseback, though it was midnight. "quit her," said he, "or die!" orlando seeing the infidel getting up, and not being sure that he would not add treachery to fierceness, had been hardly less quick in mounting for the combat. "never," exclaimed he; "i never could have quitted her if i would, and now i would not if i could. you must seek her by other means than these." fiercely dashed their horses together, in the nighttime, on the green mead. despiteful and terrible were the blows they gave and took by the moonlight. agrican fought in a rage, orlando was cooler. and now the struggle had lasted more than five hours, and day began to dawn, when the tartar king, furious to find so much trouble given him, dealt his enemy a blow sharp and violent beyond conception. it cut the shield in two as if it had been made of wood, and, though blood could not be drawn from orlando, because he was fated, it shook and bruised him as if it had started every joint in his body. his body only, however, not a particle of his soul. so dreadful was the blow which the paladin gave in return, that not only shield, but every bit of mail on the body of agrican was broken in pieces, and three of his ribs cut asunder. the tartar, roaring like a lion, raised his sword with still greater vehemence than before, and dealt a blow on the paladin's helmet, such as he had never yet received from mortal man. for a moment it took away his senses. his sight failed, his ears tingled, his frightened horse turned about to fly; and he was falling from the saddle, when the very action of falling threw his head upwards, and thus recalled his recollection. "what a shame is this!" thought he; "how shall i ever again dare to face angelica! i have been fighting hour after hour with this man, and he is but one, and i call myself orlando! if the combat last any longer i will bury myself in a monastery, and never look on sword again." orlando muttered with his lips closed and his teeth ground together; and you might have thought that fire instead of breath came out of his nose and mouth. he raised his sword durindana with both his hands, and sent it down so tremendously on agrican's shoulder that it cut through breastplate down to the very haunch, nay, crushed the saddle-bow, though it was made of bone and iron, and felled man and horse to the earth. agrican turned as white as ashes, and felt death upon him. he called orlando to come close to him, with a gentle voice, and said, as well as he could: "i believe on him who died on the cross. baptize me, i pray thee, with the fountain, before my senses are gone. i have lived an evil life, but need not be rebellious to god in death also. may he who came to save all the rest of the world save me!" and he shed tears, that great king, though he had been so lofty and fierce. orlando dismounted quickly, with his own face in tears. he gathered the king tenderly in his arms, and took and laid him by the fountain, on a marble rim that it had, and then he wept in concert with him heartily, and asked his pardon, and so baptized him in the water of the fountain, and knelt and prayed to god for him with joined hands. he then paused and looked at him; and when he perceived his countenance changed, and that his whole person was cold, he left him there on the marble rim of the fountain, all armed as he was, with the sword by his side, and the crown upon his head. adventures of rinaldo and orlando we left rinaldo when, having overcome the monster, he quitted the castle of altaripa, and pursued his way on foot. he soon met with a weeping damsel, who, being questioned as to the cause of her sorrow, told him she was in search of one to do battle to rescue her lover, who had been made prisoner by a vile enchantress, together with orlando and many more. the damsel was flordelis, the lady-love of florismart, and rinaldo promised his assistance, trusting to accomplish the adventure either by valor or skill. flordelis insisted upon rinaldo's taking her horse, which he consented to do, on condition of her mounting behind him. as they rode on through a wood, they heard strange noises, and rinaldo, reassuring the damsel, pressed forward towards the quarter from which they proceeded. he soon perceived a giant standing under a vaulted cavern, with a huge club in his hand, and of an appearance to strike the boldest spirit with dread. by the side of the cavern was chained a griffin, which, together with the giant, was stationed there to guard a wonderful horse, the same which was once argalia's. this horse was a creature of enchantment, matchless in vigor, speed, and form, which disdained to share the diet of his fellow-steeds,--corn or grass,--and fed only on air. his name was rabican. this marvellous horse, after his master argalia had been slain by ferrau, finding himself at liberty, returned to his native cavern, and was here stabled under the protection of the giant and the griffin. as rinaldo approached, the giant assailed him with his club. rinaldo defended himself from the giant's blows, and gave him one in return, which, if his skin had not been of the toughest, would have finished the combat. but the giant, though wounded, escaped, and let loose the griffin. this monstrous bird towered in air, and thence pounced down upon rinaldo, who, watching his opportunity, dealt her a desperate wound. she had, however, strength for another flight, and kept repeating her attacks, which rinaldo parried as he could, while the damsel stood trembling by, witnessing the contest. the battle continued, rendered more terrible by the approach of night, when rinaldo determined upon a desperate expedient to bring it to a conclusion. he fell, as if fainting from his wounds, and, on the close approach of the griffin, dealt her a blow which sheared away one of her wings. the beast, though sinking, griped him fast with her talons, digging through plate and mail; but rinaldo plied his sword in utter desperation, and at last accomplished her destruction. rinaldo then entered the cavern, and found there the wonderful horse, all caparisoned. he was coal-black, except for a star of white on his forehead, and one white foot behind. for speed he was unrivalled, though in strength he yielded to bayard. rinaldo mounted upon rabican, and issued from the cavern. as he pursued his way he met a fugitive from agrican's army, who gave such an account of the prowess of a champion who fought on the side of angelica, that rinaldo was persuaded this must be orlando, though at a loss to imagine how he could have been freed from captivity. he determined to repair to the scene of the contest to satisfy his curiosity, and flordelis, hoping to find florismart with orlando, consented to accompany him. while these things were doing, all was rout and dismay in the tartarian army, from the death of agrican. king galafron, arriving at this juncture with an army for the relief of his capital, albracca, assaulted the enemy's camp, and carried all before him. rinaldo had now reached the scene of action, and was looking on as an unconcerned spectator, when he was espied by galafron. the king instantly recognized the horse rabican, which he had given to argalia when he sent him forth on his ill-omened mission to paris. possessed with the idea that the rider of the horse was the murderer of argalia, galafron rode at rinaldo, and smote him with all his force. rinaldo was not slow to avenge the blow, and it would have gone hard with the king had not his followers instantly closed round him and separated the combatants. rinaldo thus found himself, almost without his own choice, enlisted on the side of the enemies of angelica, which gave him no concern, so completely had his draught from the fountain of hate steeled his mind against her. for several successive days the struggle continued, without any important results, rinaldo meeting the bravest knights of angelica's party, and defeating them one after the other. at length he encountered orlando, and the two knights bitterly reproached one another for the cause they had each adopted, and engaged in a furious combat. orlando was mounted upon bayard, rinaldo's horse, which agrican had by chance become possessed of, and orlando had taken from him as the prize of victory. bayard would not fight against his master, and orlando was getting the worse of the encounter, when suddenly rinaldo, seeing astolpho, who for love of him had arrayed himself on his side, hard beset by numbers, left orlando to rush to the defence of his friend. night prevented the combat from being renewed; but a challenge was given and accepted for their next meeting. but angelica, sighing in her heart for rinaldo, was not willing that he should be again exposed to so terrible a venture. she begged a boon of orlando, promising she would be his if he would do her bidding. on receiving his promise, she enjoined him to set out without delay to destroy the garden of the enchantress falerina, in which many valiant knights had been entrapped, and were imprisoned. orlando departed on his horse brigliadoro, leaving bayard in disgrace for his bad deportment the day before. angelica, to conciliate rinaldo, sent bayard to him; but rinaldo remained unmoved by this as by all her former acts of kindness. when rinaldo learned orlando's departure, he yielded to the entreaties of the lady of florismart, and prepared to fulfil his promise, and rescue her lover from the power of the enchantress. thus both rinaldo and orlando were bound upon the same adventure, but unknown to one another. the castle of falerina was protected by a river, which was crossed by a bridge, kept by a ruffian, who challenged all comers to the combat; and such was his strength that he had thus far prevailed in every encounter, as appeared by the arms of various knights which he had taken from them, and piled up as a trophy on the shore. rinaldo attacked him, but with as bad success as the rest, for the bridge-ward struck him so violent a blow with an iron mace that he fell to the ground. but when the villain approached to strip him of his armor, rinaldo seized him, and the bridge-ward, being unable to free himself, leapt with rinaldo into the lake, where they both disappeared. orlando, meanwhile, in discharge of his promise to angelica, pursued his way in quest of the same adventure. in passing through a wood he saw a cavalier armed at all points, and mounted, keeping guard over a lady who was bound to a tree, weeping bitterly. orlando hastened to her relief, but was exhorted by the knight not to interfere, for she had deserved her fate by her wickedness. in proof of which he made certain charges against her. the lady denied them all, and orlando believed her, defied the knight, overthrew him, and, releasing the lady, departed with her seated on his horse's croup. while they rode another damsel approached on a white palfrey, who warned orlando of impending danger, and informed him that he was near the garden of the enchantress. orlando was delighted with the intelligence, and entreated her to inform him how he was to gain admittance. she replied that the garden could only be entered at sunrise and gave him such instructions as would enable him to gain admittance. she gave him also a book in which was painted the garden and all that it contained, together with the palace of the false enchantress, where she had secluded herself for the purpose of executing a magic work in which she was engaged. this was the manufacture of a sword capable of cutting even through enchanted substances. the object of this labor, the damsel told him, was the destruction of a knight of the west, by name orlando, who she had read in the book of fate was coming to demolish her garden. having thus instructed him, the damsel departed. orlando, finding he must delay his enterprise till the next morning, now lay down and was soon asleep. seeing this, the base woman whom he had rescued, and who was intent on making her escape to rejoin her paramour, mounted brigliadoro, and rode off, carrying away durindana. when orlando awoke, his indignation, as may be supposed, was great on the discovery of the theft; but, like a good knight and true, he was not to be diverted from his enterprise. he tore off a huge branch of an elm to supply the place of his sword; and, as the sun rose, took his way towards the gate of the garden, where a dragon was on his watch. this he slew by repeated blows, and entered the garden, the gate of which closed behind him, barring retreat. looking round him, he saw a fair fountain, which overflowed into a river, and in the centre of the fountain a figure, on whose forehead was written: "the stream which waters violet and rose, from hence to the enchanted palace goes." following the banks of this flowing stream, and rapt in the delights of the charming garden, orlando arrived at the palace, and entering it, found the mistress, clad in white, with a crown of gold upon her head, in the act of viewing herself in the surface of the magic sword. orlando surprised her before she could escape, deprived her of the weapon, and holding her fast by her long hair, which floated behind, threatened her with immediate death if she did not yield up her prisoners, and afford him the means of egress. she, however, was firm of purpose, making no reply, and orlando, unable to move her either by threats or entreaties, was under the necessity of binding her to a beech, and pursuing his quest as he best might. he then bethought him of his book, and, consulting it, found that there was an outlet to the south, but that to reach it a lake was to be passed, inhabited by a siren, whose song was so entrancing as to be quite irresistible to whoever heard it; but his book instructed him how to protect himself against this danger. according to its directions, while pursuing his path, he gathered abundance of flowers, which sprung all around, and filled his helmet and his ears with them; then listened if he heard the birds sing. finding that, though he saw the gaping beak, the swelling throat, and ruffled plumes, he could not catch a note, he felt satisfied with his defence, and advanced toward the lake. it was small but deep, and so clear and tranquil that the eye could penetrate to the bottom. he had no, sooner arrived upon the banks than the waters were seen to gurgle, and the siren, rising midway out of the pool, sung so sweetly that birds and beasts came trooping to the water-side to listen. of this orlando heard nothing, but, feigning to yield to the charm, sank down upon the bank. the siren issued from the water with the intent to accomplish his destruction. orlando seized her by the hair, and while she sang yet louder (song being her only defence) cut off her head. then, following the directions of the book, he stained himself all over with her blood. guarded by this talisman, he met successively all the monsters set for defence of the enchantress and her garden, and at length found himself again at the spot where he had made captive the enchantress, who still continued fastened to the beech. but the scene was changed. the garden had disappeared, and falerina, before so haughty, now begged for mercy, assuring him that many lives depended upon the preservation of hers. orlando promised her life upon her pledging herself for the deliverance of her captives. this, however, was no easy task. they were not in her possession, but in that of a much more powerful enchantress, morgana, the lady of the lake, the very idea of opposing whom made falerina turn pale with fear. representing to him the hazards of the enterprise, she led him towards the dwelling of morgana. to approach it he had to encounter the same uncourteous bridge-ward who had already defeated and made captive so many knights, and last of all, rinaldo. he was a churl of the most ferocious character, named arridano. morgana had provided him with impenetrable armor, and endowed him in such a manner that his strength always increased in proportion to that of the adversary with whom he was matched. no one had ever yet escaped from the contest, since, such was his power of endurance, he could breathe freely under water. hence, having grappled with a knight, and sunk with him to the bottom of the lake, he returned, bearing his enemy's arms in triumph to the surface. while falerina was repeating her cautions and her counsels orlando saw rinaldo's arms erected in form of a trophy, among other spoils made by the villain, and, forgetting their late quarrel, determined upon revenging his friend. arriving at the pass, the churl presuming to bar the way, a desperate contest ensued, during which falerina escaped. the churl finding himself overmatched at a contest of arms, resorted to his peculiar art, grappled his antagonist, and plunged with him into the lake. when he reached the bottom orlando found himself in another world, upon a dry meadow, with the lake overhead, through which shone the beams of our sun, while the water stood on all sides like a crystal wall. here the battle was renewed, and orlando had in his magic sword an advantage which none had hitherto possessed. it had been tempered by falerina so that no spells could avail against it. thus armed, and countervailing the strength of his adversary by his superior skill and activity, it was not long before he laid him dead upon the field. orlando then made all haste to return to the upper air, and, passing through the water, which opened a way before him (such was the power of the magic sword), he soon regained the shore, and found himself in a field as thickly covered with precious stones as the sky is with stars. orlando crossed the field, not tempted to delay his enterprise by gathering any of the brilliant gems spread all around him. he next passed into a flowery meadow planted with trees, covered with fruit and flowers, and full of all imaginable delights. in the middle of this meadow was a fountain, and fast by it lay morgana asleep; a lady of a lovely aspect, dressed in white and vermilion garments, her forehead well furnished with hair, while she had scarcely any behind. while orlando stood in silence contemplating her beauty he heard a voice exclaim: "seize the fairy by the forelock, if thou hopest fair success." but his attention was arrested by another object, and he heeded not the warning. he saw on a sudden an array of towers, pinnacles and columns, palaces with balconies and windows, extended alleys with trees, in short a scene of architectural magnificence surpassing all he had ever beheld. while he stood gazing in silent astonishment the scene slowly melted away and disappeared. [footnote: this is a poetical description of a phenomenon which is said to be really exhibited in the strait of messina, between sicily and calabria. it is called fata morgana, or mirage.] when he had recovered from his amazement he looked again toward the fountain. the fairy had awaked and risen, and was dancing round its border with the lightness of a leaf, timing her footsteps to this song: "who in this world would wealth and treasure share, honor, delight, and state, and what is best, quick let him catch me by the lock of hair which flutters from my forehead; and be blest. "but let him not the proffered good forbear, nor till he seize the fleeting blessing rest; for present loss is sought in vain to-morrow, and the deluded wretch is left in sorrow." the fairy, having sung thus, bounded off, and fled from the flowery meadow over a high and inaccessible mountain. orlando pursued her through thorns and rocks, while the sky gradually became overcast, and at last he was assailed by tempest, lightning, and hail. while he thus pursued, a pale and meagre woman issued from a cave, armed with a whip, and, treading close upon his steps, scourged him with vigorous strokes. her name was repentance, and she told him it was her office to punish those who neglected to obey the voice of prudence, and seize the fairy fortune when he might. orlando, furious at this chastisement, turned upon his tormentor, but might as well have stricken the wind. finding it useless to resist, he resumed his chase of the fairy, gained upon her, and made frequent snatches at her white and vermilion garments, which still eluded his grasp. at last, on her turning her head for an instant, he profited by the chance, and seized her by the forelock. in an instant the tempest ceased, the sky became serene, and repentance retreated to her cave. orlando now demanded of morgana the keys of her prison, and the fairy, feigning a complacent aspect, delivered up a key of silver, bidding him to be cautious in the use of it, since to break the lock would be to involve himself and all in inevitable destruction; a caution which gave the count room for long meditation, and led him to consider how few amid the suitors who importune the dame, know how to turn the keys of fortune. keeping the fairy still fast by the forelock, orlando proceeded toward the prison, turned the key, without occasioning the mischiefs apprehended, and delivered the prisoners. among these were florismart, rinaldo, and many others of the bravest knights of france. morgana had disappeared, and the knights, under the guidance of orlando, retraced the path by which he had come. they soon reached the field of treasure. rinaldo, finding himself amidst this mass of wealth, remembered his needy garrison of montalban, and could not resist the temptation of seizing part of the booty. in particular a golden chain, studded with diamonds, was too much for his self-denial, and he took it and was bearing it off, notwithstanding the remonstrances of orlando, when a violent wind caught him and whirled him back, as he approached the gate. this happened a second and a third time, and rinaldo at length yielded to necessity, rather than to the entreaties of his friends, and cast away his prize. they soon reached the bridge and passed over without hindrance to the other side, where they found the trophy decorated with their arms. here each knight resumed his own, and all, except the paladins and their friends, separated as their inclinations or duty prompted. dudon, the dane, one of the rescued knights, informed the cousins that he had been made prisoner by morgana while in the discharge of an embassy to them from charlemagne, who called upon them to return to the defence of christendom. orlando was too much fascinated by angelica to obey this summons, and, followed by the faithful florismart, who would not leave him, returned towards albracca. rinaldo, dudon, iroldo, prasildo, and the others took their way toward the west. the invasion of france agramant, king of africa, convoked the kings, his vassals, to deliberate in council. he reminded them of the injuries he had sustained from france, that his father had fallen in battle with charlemagne, and that his early years had hitherto not allowed him to wipe out the stain of former defeats. he now proposed to them to carry war into france. sobrino, his wisest councillor, opposed the project, representing the rashness of it; but rodomont, the young and fiery king of algiers, denounced sobrino's counsel as base and cowardly, declaring himself impatient for the enterprise. the king of the garamantes, venerable for his age and renowned for his prophetic lore, interposed, and assured the king that such an attempt would be sure to fail, unless he could first get on his side a youth marked out by destiny as the fitting compeer of the most puissant knights of france, the young rogero, descended in direct line from hector of troy. this prince was now a dweller upon the mountain carena, where atlantes, his foster-father, a powerful magician, kept him in retirement, having discovered by his art that his pupil would be lost to him if allowed to mingle with the world. to break the spells of atlantes, and draw rogero from his retirement, one only means was to be found. it was a ring possessed by angelica, princess of cathay, which was a talisman against all enchantments. if this ring could be procured all would go well; without it the enterprise was desperate. rodomont treated this declaration of the old prophet with scorn, and it would probably have been held of little weight by the council, had not the aged king, oppressed by the weight of years, expired in the very act of reaffirming his prediction. this made so deep an impression on the council that it was unanimously resolved to postpone the war until an effort should be made to win rogero to the camp. king agramant thereupon proclaimed that the sovereignty of a kingdom should be the reward of whoever should succeed in obtaining the ring of angelica. brunello the dwarf, the subtlest thief in all africa, undertook to procure it. in prosecution of this design, he made the best of his way to angelica's kingdom, and arrived beneath the walls of albracca while the besieging army was encamped before the fortress. while the attention of the garrison was absorbed by the battle that raged below he scaled the walls, approached the princess unnoticed, slipped the ring from her finger, and escaped unobserved. he hastened to the seaside, and, finding a vessel ready to sail, embarked, and arrived at biserta, in africa. here he found agramant impatient for the talisman which was to foil the enchantments of atlantes and to put rogero into his hands. the dwarf, kneeling before the king, presented him with the ring, and agramant, delighted at the success of his mission, crowned him in recompense king of tingitana. all were now anxious to go in quest of rogero. the cavalcade accordingly departed, and in due time arrived at the mountain of carena. at the bottom of this was a fruitful and well-wooded plain, watered by a large river, and from this plain was descried a beautiful garden on the mountain-top, which contained the mansion of atlantes; but the ring, which discovered what was before invisible, could not, though it revealed this paradise, enable agramant or his followers to enter it. so steep and smooth was the rock by nature, that even brunello failed in every attempt to scale it. he did not, for this, despair of accomplishing the object; but, having obtained agramant's consent, caused the assembled courtiers and knights to celebrate a tournament upon the plain below. this was done with the view of seducing rogero from his fastness, and the stratagem was attended with success. rogero joined the tourney, and was presented by agramant with a splendid horse, frontino, and a magnificent sword. having learned from agramant his intended invasion of france, he gladly consented to join the expedition. rodomont, meanwhile, was too impatient to wait for agramant's arrangements, and embarked with all the forces he could raise, made good his landing on the coast of france, and routed the christians in several encounters. previously to this, however, gano, or ganelon (as he is sometimes called), the traitor, enemy of orlando and the other nephews of charlemagne, had entered into a traitorous correspondence with marsilius, the saracen king of spain, whom he invited into france. marsilius, thus encouraged, led an army across the frontiers, and joined rodomont. this was the situation of things when rinaldo and the other knights who had obeyed the summons of dudon set forward on their return to france. when they arrived at buda in hungary they found the king of that country about despatching his son, ottachiero, with an army to the succor of charlemagne. delighted with the arrival of rinaldo, he placed his son and troops under his command. in due time the army arrived on the frontiers of france, and, united with the troops of desiderius, king of lombardy, poured down into provence. the confederate armies had not marched many days through this gay tract before they heard a crash of drums and trumpets behind the hills, which spoke the conflict between the paynims, led by rodomont, and the christian forces. rinaldo, witnessing from a mountain the prowess of rodomont, left his troops in charge of his friends, and galloped towards him with his lance in rest. the impulse was irresistible, and rodomont was unhorsed. but rinaldo, unwilling to avail himself of his advantage, galloped back to the hill, and having secured bayard among the baggage, returned to finish the combat on foot. during this interval the battle had become general, the hungarians were routed, and rinaldo, on his return, had the mortification to find that ottachiero was wounded, and dudon taken prisoner. while he sought rodomont in order to renew the combat a new sound of drums and trumpets was heard, and charlemagne, with the main body of his army, was descried advancing in battle array. rodomont, seeing this, mounted the horse of dudon, left rinaldo, who was on foot, and galloped off to encounter this new enemy. agramant, accompanied by rogero, had by this time made good his landing, and joined rodomont with all his forces. rogero eagerly embraced this first opportunity of distinguishing himself, and spread terror wherever he went, encountering in turn and overthrowing many of the bravest knights of france. at length he found himself opposite to rinaldo, who, being interrupted, as we have said, in his combat with rodomont, and unable to follow him, being on foot, was shouting to his late foe to return and finish their combat. rogero also was on foot, and seeing the christian knight so eager for a contest, proffered himself to supply the place of his late antagonist. rinaldo saw at a glance that the moorish prince was a champion worthy of his arm, and gladly accepted the defiance. the combat was stoutly maintained for a time; but now fortune declared decisively in favor of the infidel army, and charlemagne's forces gave way at all points in irreparable confusion. the two combatants were separated by the crowd of fugitives and pursuers, and rinaldo hastened to recover possession of his horse. but bayard, in the confusion, had got loose, and rinaldo followed him into a thick wood, thus becoming effectually separated from rogero. rogero, also seeking his horse in the medley, came where two warriors were engaged in mortal combat. though he knew not who they were, he could distinguish that one was a paynim and the other a christian; and moved by the spirit of courtesy he approached them and exclaimed, "let him of the two who worships christ pause, and hear what i have to say. the army of charles is routed and in flight, so that if he wishes to follow his leader he has no time for delay." the christian knight, who was none other than bradamante, a female warrior, in prowess equal to the best of knights, was thunderstruck with the tidings, and would gladly leave the contest undecided, and retire from the field; but rodomont, her antagonist, would by no means consent. rogero, indignant at his discourtesy, insisted upon her departure, while he took up her quarrel with rodomont. the combat, obstinately maintained on both sides, was interrupted by the return of bradamante. finding herself unable to overtake the fugitives, and reluctant to leave to another the burden and risk of a contest which belonged to herself, she had returned to reclaim the combat. she arrived, however, when her champion had dealt his enemy such a blow as obliged him to drop both his sword and bridle. rogero, disdaining to profit by his adversary's defenceless situation, sat apart upon his horse, while that of rodomont bore his rider, stunned and stupefied, about the field. bradamante approached rogero, conceiving a yet higher opinion of his valor on beholding such an instance of forbearance. she addressed him, excusing herself for leaving him exposed to an enemy from his interference in her cause; pleading her duty to her sovereign as the motive. while she spoke rodomont, recovered from his confusion, rode up to them. his bearing was, however, changed; and he disclaimed all thoughts of further contest with one who, he said, "had already conquered him by his courtesy." so saying, he quitted his antagonist, picked up his sword, and spurred out of sight. bradamante was now again desirous of retiring from the field, and rogero insisted on accompanying her, though yet unaware of her sex. as they pursued their way, she inquired the name and quality of her new associate; and rogero informed her of his nation and family. he told her that astyanax, the son of hector of troy, established the kingdom of messina in sicily. from him were derived two branches, which gave origin to two families of renown. from one sprang the royal race of pepin and charlemagne, and from the other, that of reggio, in italy. "from that of reggio am i derived," he continued. "my mother, driven from her home by the chance of war, died in giving me life, and i was taken in charge by a sage enchanter, who trained me to feats of arms amidst the dangers of the desert and the chase." having thus ended his tale, rogero entreated a similar return of courtesy from his companion, who replied, without disguise, that she was of the race of clermont, and sister to rinaldo, whose fame was perhaps known to him. rogero, much moved by this intelligence, entreated her to take off her helmet, and at the discovery of her face remained transported with delight. while absorbed in this contemplation, an unexpected danger assailed them. a party which was placed in a wood, in order to intercept the retreating christians, broke from its ambush upon the pair, and bradamante, who was uncasqued, was wounded in the head. rogero was in a fury at this attack; and bradamante, replacing her helmet, joined him in taking speedy vengeance on their enemies. they cleared the field of them, but became separated in the pursuit, and rogero, quitting the chase, wandered by hill and vale in search of her whom he had no sooner found than lost. while pursuing this quest he fell in with two knights, whom he joined, and engaged them to assist him in the search of his companion, describing her arms, but concealing, from a certain feeling of jealousy, her quality and sex. it was evening when they joined company, and having ridden together through the night the morning was beginning to break, when one of the strangers, fixing his eyes upon rogero's shield, demanded of him by what right he bore the trojan arms. rogero declared his origin and race, and then, in his turn, interrogated the inquirer as to his pretensions to the cognizance of hector, which he bore. the stranger replied, "my name is mandricardo, son of agrican, the tartar king, whom orlando treacherously slew. i say treacherously, for in fair fight he could not have done it. it is in search of him that i have come to france, to take vengeance for my father, and to wrest from him durindana, that famous sword, which belongs to me, and not to him." when the knights demanded to know by what right he claimed durindana, mandricardo thus related his history: "i had been, before the death of my father, a wild and reckless youth. that event awakened my energies, and drove me forth to seek for vengeance. determined to owe success to nothing but my own exertions, i departed without attendants or horse or arms. travelling thus alone, and on foot, i espied one day a pavilion, pitched near a fountain, and entered it, intent on adventure. i found therein a damsel of gracious aspect, who replied to my inquiries that the fountain was the work of a fairy, whose castle stood beyond a neighboring hill, where she kept watch over a treasure which many knights had tried to win, but fruitlessly, having lost their life or liberty in the attempt. this treasure was the armor of hector, prince of troy, whom achilles treacherously slew. nothing was wanting but his sword, durindana, and this had fallen into the possession of a queen named penthesilea, from whom it passed through her descendants to almontes, whom orlando slew, and thus became possessed of the sword. the rest of hector's arms were saved and carried off by aeneas, from whom this fairy received them in recompense of service rendered. 'if you have the courage to attempt their acquisition,' said the damsel, 'i will be your guide.'" mandricardo went on to say that he eagerly embraced the proposal, and being provided with horse and armor by the damsel, set forth on his enterprise, the lady accompanying him. as they rode she explained the dangers of the quest. the armor was defended by a champion, one of the numerous unsuccessful adventurers for the prize, all of whom had been made prisoners by the fairy, and compelled to take their turn, day by day, in defending the arms against all comers. thus speaking they arrived at the castle, which was of alabaster, overlaid with gold. before it, on a lawn, sat an armed knight on horseback, who was none other than gradasso, king of sericane, who, in his return home from his unsuccessful inroad into france, had fallen into the power of the fairy, and was held to do her bidding. mandricardo, upon seeing him, dropt his visor, and laid his lance in rest. the champion of the castle was equally ready, and each spurred towards his opponent. they met one another with equal force, splintered their spears, and, returning to the charge, encountered with their swords. the contest was long and doubtful, when mandricardo, determined to bring it to an end, threw his arms about gradasso, grappled with him, and both fell to the ground. mandricardo, however, fell uppermost, and, preserving his advantage, compelled gradasso to yield himself conquered. the damsel now interfered, congratulating the victor, and consoling the vanquished as well as she might. mandricardo and the damsel proceeded to the gate of the castle, which they found undefended. as they entered they beheld a shield suspended from a pilaster of gold. the device was a white eagle on an azure field, in memory of the bird of jove, which bore away ganymede, the flower of the phrygian race. beneath was engraved the following couplet: "let none with hand profane my buckler wrong unless he be himself as hector strong." the damsel, alighting from her palfrey, made obeisance to the arms, bending herself to the ground. the tartar king bowed his head with equal reverence; then advancing towards the shield, touched it with his sword. thereupon an earthquake shook the ground, and the way by which he had entered closed. another and an opposite gate opened, and displayed a field bristling with stalks and grain of gold. the damsel, upon this, told him that he had no means of retreat but by cutting down the harvest which was before him, and by uprooting a tree which grew in the middle of the field. mandricardo, without replying, began to mow the harvest with his sword, but had scarce smitten thrice when he perceived that every stalk that fell was instantly transformed into some poisonous or ravenous animal, which prepared to assail him. instructed by the damsel, he snatched up a stone and cast it among the pack. a strange wonder followed; for no sooner had the stone fallen among the beasts, than they turned their rage against one another, and rent each other to pieces. mandricardo did not stop to marvel at the miracle, but proceeded to fulfil his task, and uproot the tree. he clasped it round the trunk, and made vigorous efforts to tear it up by the roots. at each effort fell a shower of leaves, that were instantly changed into birds of prey, which attacked the knight, flapping their wings in his face, with horrid screeching. but undismayed by this new annoyance, he continued to tug at the trunk till it yielded to his efforts. a burst of wind and thunder followed, and the hawks and vultures flew screaming away. but these only gave place to a new foe; for from the hole made by tearing up the tree issued a furious serpent, and, darting at mandricardo, wound herself about his limbs with a strain that almost crushed him. fortune, however, again stood his friend, for, writhing under the folds of the monster, he fell backwards into the hole, and his enemy was crushed beneath his weight. mandricardo, when he was somewhat recovered, and assured himself of the destruction of the serpent, began to contemplate the place into which he had fallen, and saw that he was in a vault, incrusted with costly metals, and illuminated by a live coal. in the middle was a sort of ivory bier, and upon this was extended what appeared to be a knight in armor, but was in truth an empty trophy, composed of the rich and precious arms once hector's, to which nothing was wanting but the sword. while mandricardo stood contemplating the prize a door opened behind him, and a bevy of fair damsels entered, dancing, who, taking up the armor piece by piece, led him away to the place where the shield was suspended; where he found the fairy of the castle seated in state. by her he was invested with the arms he had won, first pledging his solemn oath to wear no other blade but durindana, which he was to wrest from orlando, and thus complete the conquest of hector's arms. the invasion of france (continued) mandricardo, having completed his story, now turned to rogero, and proposed that arms should decide which of the two was most worthy to bear the symbol of the trojan knight. rogero felt no other objection to this proposal than the scruple which arose on observing that his antagonist was without a sword. mandricardo insisted that this need be no impediment, since his oath prevented him from using a sword until he should have achieved the conquest of durindana. this was no sooner said than a new antagonist started up in gradasso, who now accompanied mandricardo. gradasso vindicated his prior right to durindana, to obtain which he had embarked (as was related in the beginning) in that bold inroad upon france. a quarrel was thus kindled between the kings of tartary and sericane. while the dispute was raging a knight arrived upon the ground, accompanied by a damsel, to whom rogero related the cause of the strife. the knight was florismart, and his companion flordelis. florismart succeeded in bringing the two champions to accord, by informing them that he could bring them to the presence of orlando, the master of durindana. gradasso and mandricardo readily made truce, in order to accompany florismart, nor would rogero be left behind. as they proceeded on their quest they were met by a dwarf, who entreated their assistance in behalf of his lady, who had been carried off by an enchanter, mounted on a winged horse. however unwilling to leave the question of the sword undecided, it was not possible for the knights to resist this appeal. two of their number, gradasso and rogero, therefore accompanied the dwarf. mandricardo persisted in his search for orlando, and florismart, with flordelis, pursued their way to the camp of charlemagne. atlantes, the enchanter, who had brought up rogero, and cherished for him the warmest affection, knew by his art that his pupil was destined to be severed from him, and converted to the christian faith through the influence of bradamante, that royal maiden with whom chance had brought him acquainted. thinking to thwart the will of heaven in this respect, he now put forth all his arts to entrap rogero into his power. by the aid of his subservient demons he reared a castle on an inaccessible height, in the pyrenean mountains, and to make it a pleasant abode to his pupil, contrived to entrap and convey thither knights and damsels many a one, whom chance had brought into the vicinity of his castle. here, in a sort of sensual paradise, they were but too willing to forget glory and duty, and to pass their time in indolent enjoyment. it was by the enchanter that the dwarf had now been sent to tempt the knights into his power. but we must now return to rinaldo, whom we left interrupted in his combat with rodomont. in search of his late antagonist and intent on bringing their combat to a decision he entered the forest of arden, whither he suspected rodomont had gone. while engaged on this quest he was surprised by the vision of a beautiful child dancing naked, with three damsels as beautiful as himself. while he was lost in admiration at the sight the child approached him, and, throwing at him handfuls of roses and lilies, struck him from his horse. he was no sooner down than he was seized by the dancers, by whom he was dragged about and scourged with flowers till he fell into a swoon. when he began to revive one of the group approached him, and told him that his punishment was the consequence of his rebellion against that power before whom all things bend; that there was but one remedy to heal the wounds that had been inflicted, and that was to drink of the waters of love. then they left him. rinaldo, sore and faint, dragged himself toward a fountain which flowed near by, and, being parched with thirst, drank greedily and almost unconsciously of the water, which was sweet to the taste, but bitter to the heart. after repeated draughts he recovered his strength and recollection, and found himself in the same place where angelica had formerly awakened him with a rain of flowers, and whence he had fled in contempt of her courtesy. this remembrance of the scene was followed by the recognition of his crime; and, repenting bitterly his ingratitude, he leaped upon bayard, with the intention of hastening to angelica's country, and soliciting his pardon at her feet. let us now retrace our steps, and revert to the time when the paladins having learned from dudon the summons of charlemagne to return to france to repel the invaders, had all obeyed the command with the exception of orlando, whose passion for angelica still held him in attendance on her. orlando, arriving before albracca, found it closely beleaguered. he, however, made his way into the citadel, and related his adventures to angelica, from the time of his departure up to his separation from rinaldo and the rest, when they departed to the assistance of charlemagne. angelica, in return, described the distresses of the garrison, and the force of the besiegers; and in conclusion prayed orlando to favor her escape from the pressing danger, and escort her into france. orlando, who did not suspect that love for rinaldo was her secret motive, joyfully agreed to the proposal, and the sally was resolved upon. leaving lights burning in the fortress, they departed at nightfall, and passed in safety through the enemy's camp. after encountering numerous adventures they reached the sea-side, and embarked on board a pinnace for france. the vessel arrived safely, and the travellers, disembarking in provence, pursued their way by land. one day, heated and weary, they sought shelter from the sun in the forest of arden, and chance directed angelica to the fountain of disdain, of whose waters she eagerly drank. issuing thence, the count and damsel encountered a stranger-knight. it was no other than rinaldo, who was just on the point of setting off on a pilgrimage in search of angelica, to implore her pardon for his insensibility, and urge his new found passion. surprise and delight at first deprived him of utterance, but soon recovering himself, he joyfully saluted her, claiming her as his, and exhorting her to put herself under his protection. his presumption was repelled by angelica with disdain, and orlando, enraged at the invasion of his rights, challenged him to decide their claims by arms. terrified at the combat which ensued, angelica fled amain through the forest, and came out upon a plain covered with tents. this was the camp of charlemagne, who led the army of reserve destined to support the troops which had advanced to oppose marsilius. charles having heard the damsel's tale, with difficulty separated the two cousins, and then consigned angelica, as the cause of quarrel, to the care of namo, duke of bavaria, promising that she should be his who should best deserve her in the impending battle. but these plans and hopes were frustrated. the christian army, beaten at all points, fled from the saracens; and angelica, indifferent to both her lovers, mounted a swift palfrey and plunged into the forest, rejoicing, in spite of her terror, at having regained her liberty. she stopped at last in a tufted grove, where a gentle zephyr blew, and whose young trees were watered by two clear runnels, which came and mingled their waters, making a pleasing murmur. believing herself far from rinaldo, and overcome by fatigue and the summer heat, she saw with delight a bank covered with flowers so thick that they almost hid the green turf, inviting her to alight and rest. she dismounted from her palfrey, and turned him loose to recruit his strength with the tender grass which bordered the streamlets. then, in a sheltered nook tapestried with moss and fenced in with roses and hawthorn-flowers, she yielded herself to grateful repose. she had not slept long when she was awakened by the noise made by the approach of a horse. starting up, she saw an armed knight who had arrived at the bank of the stream. not knowing whether he was to be feared or not, her heart beat with anxiety. she pressed aside the leaves to allow her to see who it was, but scarce dared to breathe for fear of betraying herself. soon the knight threw himself on the flowery bank, and leaning his head on his hand fell into a profound reverie. then arousing himself from his silence he began to pour forth complaints, mingled with deep sighs. rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks, and his breast seemed to labor with a hidden flame. "ah, vain regrets!" he exclaimed; "cruel fortune! others triumph, while i endure hopeless misery! better a thousand times to lose life, than wear a chain so disgraceful and so oppressive!" angelica by this time had recognized the stranger, and perceived that it was sacripant, king of circassia, one of the worthiest of her suitors. this prince had followed angelica from his country, at the very gates of the day, to france, where he heard with dismay that she was under the guardianship of the paladin orlando, and that the emperor had announced his decree to award her as the prize of valor to that one of his nephews who should best deserve her. as sacripant continued to lament, angelica, who had always opposed the hardness of marble to his sighs, thought with herself that nothing forbade her employing his good offices in this unhappy crisis. though firmly resolved never to accept him as a spouse, she yet felt the necessity of giving him a gleam of hope in reward for the service she required of him. all at once, like diana, she stepped forth from the arbor. "may the gods preserve thee," she said, "and put far from thee all hard thoughts of me!" then she told him all that had befallen her since she parted with him at her father's court, and how she had availed herself of orlando's protection to escape from the beleaguered city. at that moment the noise of horse and armor was heard as of one approaching; and sacripant, furious at the interruption, resumed his helmet, mounted his horse, and placed his lance in rest. he saw a knight advancing, with scarf and plume of snowy whiteness. sacripant regarded him with angry eyes, and, while he was yet some distance off, defied him to the combat. the other, not moved by his angry tone to make reply, put himself on his defence. their horses, struck at the same moment with the spur, rushed upon one another with the impetuosity of a tempest. their shields were pierced each with the other's lance, and only the temper of their breastplates saved their lives. both the horses recoiled with the violence of the shock; but the unknown knight's recovered itself at the touch of the spur; the saracen king's fell dead, and bore down his master with him. the white knight, seeing his enemy in this condition, cared not to renew the combat, but, thinking he had done enough for glory, pursued his way through the forest, and was a mile off before sacripant had got free from his horse. as a ploughman, stunned by a thunder-clap which has stricken dead the oxen at his plough, stands motionless, sadly contemplating his loss, so sacripant stood confounded and overwhelmed with mortification at having angelica a witness of his defeat. he groaned, he sighed, less from the pain of his bruises than for the shame of being reduced to such a state before her. the princess took pity on him, and consoled him as well as she could. "banish your regrets, my lord," she said, "this accident has happened solely in consequence of the feebleness of your horse, which had more need of rest and food than of such an encounter as this. nor can your adversary gain any credit by it, since he has hurried away, not venturing a second trial." while she thus consoled sacripant they perceived a person approach, who seemed a courier, with bag and horn. as soon as he came up, he accosted sacripant, and inquired if he had seen a knight pass that way, bearing a white shield and with a white plume to his helmet. "i have, indeed, seen too much of him," said sacripant, "it is he who has brought me to the ground; but at least i hope to learn from you who that knight is." "that i can easily inform you," said the man; "know then that, if you have been overthrown, you owe your fate to the high prowess of a lady as beautiful as she is brave. it is the fair and illustrious bradamante who has won from you the honors of victory." at these words the courier rode on his way, leaving sacripant more confounded and mortified than ever. in silence he mounted the horse of angelica, taking the lady behind him on the croup, and rode away in search of a more secure asylum. hardly had they ridden two miles when a new sound was heard in the forest, and they perceived a gallant and powerful horse, which, leaping the ravines and dashing aside the branches that opposed his passage, appeared before them, accoutred with a rich harness adorned with gold. "if i may believe my eyes, which penetrate with difficulty the underwood," said angelica, "that horse that dashes so stoutly through the bushes is bayard, and i marvel how he seems to know the need we have of him, mounted as we are both on one feeble animal." sacripant, dismounting from the palfrey, approached the fiery courser, and attempted to seize his bridle, but the disdainful animal, turning from him, launched at him a volley of kicks enough to have shattered a wall of marble. bayard then approached angelica with an air as gentle and loving as a faithful dog could his master after a long separation. for he remembered how she had caressed him, and even fed him, in albracca. she took his bridle in her left hand, while with her right she patted his neck. the beautiful animal, gifted with wonderful intelligence, seemed to submit entirely. sacripant, seizing the moment to vault upon him, controlled his curvetings, and angelica, quitting the croup of the palfrey, regained her seat. but, turning his eyes toward a place where was heard a noise of arms, sacripant beheld rinaldo. that hero now loves angelica more than his life, and she flies him as the timid crane the falcon. the fountain of which angelica had drunk produced such an effect on the beautiful queen that, with distressed countenance and trembling voice, she conjured sacripant not to wait the approach of rinaldo, but to join her in flight. "am i, then," said sacripant, "of so little esteem with you that you doubt my power to defend you? do you forget the battle of albracca, and how, in your defence, i fought single-handed against agrican and all his knights?" angelica made no reply, uncertain what to do; but already rinaldo was too near to be escaped. he advanced menacingly to the circassian king, for he recognized his horse. "vile thief," he cried, "dismount from that horse, and prevent the punishment that is your due for daring to rob me of my property. leave, also, the princess in my hands; for it would indeed be a sin to suffer so charming a lady and so gallant a charger to remain in such keeping." the king of circassia, furious at being thus insulted, cried out, "thou liest, villain, in giving me the name of thief, which better belongs to thyself than to me. it is true, the beauty of this lady and the perfection of this horse are unequalled; come on, then, and let us try which of us is most worthy to possess them." at these words the king of circassia and rinaldo attacked one another with all their force, one fighting on foot, the other on horseback. you need not, however, suppose that the saracen king found any advantage in this; for a young page, unused to horsemanship, could not have failed more completely to manage bayard than did this accomplished knight. the faithful animal loved his master too well to injure him, and refused his aid as well as his obedience to the hand of sacripant, who could strike but ineffectual blows, the horse backing when he wished him to go forward, and dropping his head and arching his back, throwing out with his legs, so as almost to shake the knight out of the saddle. sacripant, seeing that he could not manage him, watched his opportunity, rose on his saddle, and leapt lightly to the earth; then, relieved from the embarrassment of the horse, renewed the combat on more equal terms. their skill to thrust and parry were equal; one rises, the other stoops; with one foot set firm they turn and wind, to lay on strokes or to dodge them. at last rinaldo, throwing himself on the circassian, dealt him a blow so terrible that fusberta, his good sword, cut in two the buckler of sacripant, although it was made of bone, and covered with a thick plate of steel well tempered. the arm of the saracen was deprived of its defence, and almost palsied with the stroke. angelica, perceiving how victory was likely to incline, and shuddering at the thought of becoming the prize of rinaldo, hesitated no longer. turning her horse's head, she fled with the utmost speed; and, in spite of the round pebbles which covered a steep descent, she plunged into a deep valley, trembling with the fear that rinaldo was in pursuit. at the bottom of this valley she encountered an aged hermit, whose white beard flowed to his middle, and whose venerable appearance seemed to assure his piety. this hermit, who appeared shrunk by age and fasting, travelled slowly, mounted upon a wretched ass. the princess, overcome with fear, conjured him to save her life; and to conduct her to some port of the sea, whence she might embark and quit france, never more to hear the odious name of rinaldo. the old hermit was something of a wizard. he comforted angelica, and promised to protect her from all peril. then he opened his scrip, and took from thence a book, and had read but a single page when a goblin, obedient to his incantations, appeared, under the form of a laboring man, and demanded his orders. he received them, transported himself to the place where the knights still maintained their conflict, and boldly stepped between the two. "tell me, i pray you," he said, "what benefit will accrue to him who shall get the better in this contest? the object you are contending for is already disposed of; for the paladin orlando, without effort and without opposition, is now carrying away the princess angelica to paris. you had better pursue them promptly; for if they reach paris you will never see her again." at these words you might have seen those rival warriors confounded, stupefied, silently agreeing that they were affording their rival a fair opportunity to triumph over them. rinaldo, approaching bayard, breathes a sigh of shame and rage, and swears a terrible oath that, if he overtakes orlando, he will tear his heart out. then mounting bayard and pressing his flanks with his spurs, he leaves the king of circassia on foot in the forest. let it not appear strange that rinaldo found bayard obedient at last, after having so long prevented any one from even touching his bridle; for that fine animal had an intelligence almost human; he had fled from his master only to draw him on the track of angelica, and enable him to recover her. he saw when the princess fled from the battle, and rinaldo being then engaged in a fight on foot, bayard found himself free to follow the traces of angelica. thus he had drawn his master after him, not permitting him to approach, and had brought him to the sight of the princess. but bayard now, deceived like his master with the false intelligence of the goblin, submits to be mounted and to serve his master as usual, and rinaldo, animated with rage, makes him fly toward paris, more slowly than his wishes, though the speed of bayard outstripped the winds. full of impatience to encounter orlando, he gave but a few hours that night to sleep. early the next day he saw before him the great city, under the walls of which the emperor charles had collected the scattered remains of his army. foreseeing that he would soon be attacked on all sides, the emperor had caused the ancient fortifications to be repaired, and new ones to be built, surrounded by wide and deep ditches. the desire to hold the field against the enemy made him seize every means of procuring new allies. he hoped to receive from england aid sufficient to enable him to form a new camp, and as soon as rinaldo rejoined him he selected him to go as his ambassador into england, to plead for auxiliaries. rinaldo was far from pleased with his commission, but he obeyed the emperor's commands, without giving himself time to devote a single day to the object nearest his heart. he hastened to calais, and lost not a moment in embarking for england, ardently desiring a hasty despatch of his commission, and a speedy return to france. bradamante and rogero bradamante, the knight of the white plume and shield, whose sudden appearance and encounter with sacripant we have already told, was in quest of rogero, from whom chance had separated her, almost at the beginning of their acquaintance. after her encounter with sacripant bradamante pursued her way through the forest, in hopes of rejoining rogero, and arrived at last on the brink of a fair fountain. this fountain flowed through a broad meadow. ancient trees overshadowed it, and travellers, attracted by the sweet murmur of its waters, stopped there to cool themselves. bradamante, casting her eyes on all sides to enjoy the beauties of the spot, perceived, under the shade of a tree, a knight reclining, who seemed to be oppressed with the deepest grief. bradamante accosted him, and asked to be informed of the cause of his distress. "alas! my lord," said he, "i lament a young and charming friend, my affianced wife, who has been torn from me by a villain,--let me rather call him a demon,--who, on a winged horse, descended from the air, seized her, and bore her screaming to his den. i have pursued them over rocks and through ravines till my horse is no longer able to bear me, and i now wait only for death." he added that already a vain attempt on his behalf had been made by two knights, whom chance had brought to the spot. their names were gradasso, king of sericane, and rogero, the moor. both had been overcome by the wiles of the enchanter, and were added to the number of the captives, whom he held in an impregnable castle, situated on the height of the mountain. at the mention of rogero's name bradamante started with delight, which was soon changed to an opposite sentiment when she heard that her lover was a prisoner in the toils of the enchanter. "sir knight," she said, "do not surrender yourself to despair; this day may be more happy for you than you think, if you will only lead me to the castle which enfolds her whom you deplore." the knight responded, "after having lost all that made life dear to me i have no motive to avoid the dangers of the enterprise, and i will do as you request; but i forewarn you of the perils you will have to encounter. if you fall impute it not to me." having thus spoken, they took their way to the castle, but were overtaken by a messenger from the camp, who had been sent in quest of bradamante to summon her back to the army, where her presence was needed to reassure her disheartened forces, and withstand the advance of the moors. the mournful knight, whose name was pinabel, thus became aware that bradamante was a scion of the house of clermont, between which and his own of mayence there existed an ancient feud. from this moment the traitor sought only how he might be rid of the company of bradamante, from whom he feared no good would come to him, but rather mortal injury, if his name and lineage became known to her. for he judged her by his own base model, and, knowing his ill deserts, he feared to receive his due. bradamante, in spite of the summons to return to the army, could not resolve to leave her lover in captivity, and determined first to finish the adventure on which she was engaged. pinabel leading the way, they at length arrived at a wood, in the centre of which rose a steep, rocky mountain. pinabel, who now thought of nothing else but how he might escape from bradamante, proposed to ascend the mountain to extend his view, in order to discover a shelter for the night, if any there might be within sight. under this pretence he left bradamante, and advanced up the side of the mountain till he came to a cleft in the rock, down which he looked, and perceived that it widened below into a spacious cavern. meanwhile bradamante, fearful of losing her guide, had followed close on his footsteps, and rejoined him at the mouth of the cavern. then the traitor, seeing the impossibility of escaping her, conceived another design. he told her that before her approach he had seen in the cavern a young and beautiful damsel, whose rich dress announced her high birth, who with tears and lamentations implored assistance; that before he could descend to relieve her a ruffian had seized her, and hurried her away into the recesses of the cavern. bradamante, full of truth and courage, readily believed this lie of the mayencian traitor. eager to succor the damsel, she looked round for the means of facilitating the descent, and seeing a large elm with spreading branches she lopped off with her sword one of the largest, and thrust it into the opening. she told pinabel to hold fast to the larger end, while, grasping the branches with her hands, she let herself down into the cavern. the traitor smiled at seeing her thus suspended, and, asking her in mockery, "are you a good leaper?" he let go the branch with perfidious glee, and saw bradamante precipitated to the bottom of the cave. "i wish your whole race were there with you," he muttered, "that you might all perish together." but pinabel's atrocious design was not accomplished. the twigs and foliage of the branch broke its descent, and bradamante, not seriously injured, though stunned with her fall, was reserved for other adventures. as soon as she recovered from the shock bradamante cast her eyes around and perceived a door, through which she passed into a second cavern, larger and loftier than the first. it had the appearance of a subterranean temple. columns of the purest alabaster adorned it, and supported the roof; a simple altar rose in the middle; a lamp, whose radiance was reflected by the alabaster walls, cast a mild light around. bradamante, inspired by a sense of religious awe, approached the altar, and, falling on her knees, poured forth her prayers and thanks to the preserver of her life, invoking the protection of his power. at that moment a small door opened, and a female issued from it with naked feet, and flowing robe and hair, who called her by her name, and thus addressed her: "brave and generous bradamante, know that it is a power from above that has brought you hither. the spirit of merlin, whose last earthly abode was in this place, has warned me of your arrival, and of the fate that awaits you. this famous grotto," she continued, "was the work of the enchanter merlin; here his ashes repose. you have no doubt heard how this sage and virtuous enchanter ceased to be. victim of the artful fairy of the lake, merlin, by a fatal compliance with her request, laid himself down living in his tomb, without power to resist the spell laid upon him by that ingrate, who retained him there as long as he lived. his spirit hovers about this spot, and will not leave it, until the last trumpet shall summon the dead to judgment. he answers the questions of those who approach his tomb, where perhaps you may be privileged to hear his voice." bradamante, astonished at these words, and the objects which met her view, knew not whether she was awake or asleep. confused, but modest, she cast down her eyes, and a blush overspread her face. "ah, what am i," said she, "that so great a prophet should deign to speak to me!" still, with a secret satisfaction, she followed the priestess, who led her to the tomb of merlin. this tomb was constructed of a species of stone hard and resplendent like fire. the rays which beamed from the stone sufficed to light up that terrible place, where the sun's rays never penetrated; but i know not whether that light was the effect of a certain phosphorescence of the stone itself, or of the many talismans and charms with which it was wrought over. bradamante had hardly passed the threshold of this sacred place when the spirit of the enchanter saluted her with a voice firm and distinct: "may thy designs be prosperous, o chaste and noble maiden, the future mother of heroes, the glory of italy, and destined to fill the whole world with their fame. great captains, renowned knights, shall be numbered among your descendants, who shall defend the church and restore their country to its ancient splendor. princes, wise as augustus and the sage numa, shall bring back the age of gold. [footnote: this prophecy is introduced by ariosto in this place to compliment the noble house of este, the princes of his native state, the dukedom of ferrara.] to accomplish these grand destinies it is ordained that you shall wed the illustrious rogero. fly then to his deliverance, and lay prostrate in the dust the traitor who has snatched him from you, and now holds him in chains!" merlin ceased with these words, and left to melissa, the priestess, the charge of more fully instructing the maiden in her future course. "to-morrow," said she, "i will conduct you to the castle on the rock where rogero is held captive. i will not leave you till i have guided you through this wild wood, and i will direct you on your way so that you shall be in no danger of mistaking it." the next morning melissa conducted bradamante between rocks and precipices, crossing rapid torrents, and traversing intricate passes, employing the time in imparting to her such information as was necessary to enable her to bring her design to a successful issue. "not only would the castle, impenetrable by force, and that winged horse of his baffle your efforts, but know that he possesses also a buckler whence flashes a light so brilliant that the eyes of all who look upon it are blinded. think not to avoid it by shutting your eyes, for how then will you be able to avoid his blows, and make him feel your own? but i will teach you the proper course to pursue. "agramant, the moorish prince, possesses a ring stolen from a queen of india, which has power to render of no avail all enchantments. agramant, knowing that rogero is of more importance to him than any one of his warriors, is desirous of rescuing him from the power of the enchanter, and has sent for that purpose brunello, the most crafty and sagacious of his servants, provided with his wonderful ring, and he is even now at hand, bent on this enterprise. but, beautiful bradamante, as i desire that no one but yourself shall have the glory of delivering from thraldom your future spouse, listen while i disclose the means of success. following this path which leads by the seashore, you will come ere long to a hostelry, where the saracen brunello will arrive shortly before you. you will readily know him by his stature, under four feet, his great disproportioned head, his squint eyes, his livid hue, his thick eyebrows joining his tufted beard. his dress, moreover, that of a courier, will point him out to you. "it will be easy for you to enter into conversation with him, announcing yourself as a knight seeking combat with the enchanter, but let not the knave suspect that you know anything about the ring. i doubt not that he will be your guide to the castle of the enchanter. accept his offer, but take care to keep behind him till you come in sight of the brilliant dome of the castle. then hesitate not to strike him dead, for the wretch deserves no pity, and take from him the ring. but let him not suspect your intention, for by putting the ring into his mouth he will instantly become invisible, and disappear from your eyes." saying thus, the sage melissa and the fair bradamante arrived near the city of bordeaux, where the rich and wide river garonne pours the tribute of its waves into the sea. they parted with tender embraces. bradamante, intent wholly on her purpose, hastened to arrive at the hostelry, where brunello had preceded her a few moments only. the young heroine knew him without difficulty. she accosted him, and put to him some slight questions, to which he replied with adroit falsehoods. bradamante, on her part, concealed from him her sex, her religion, her country, and the blood from whence she sprung. while they talk together, sudden cries are heard from all parts of the hostelry. "o queen of heaven!" exclaimed bradamante, "what can be the cause of this sudden alarm?" she soon learned the cause. host, children, domestics, all, with upturned eyes, as if they saw a comet or a great eclipse, were gazing on a prodigy which seemed to pass the bounds of possibility. she beheld distinctly a winged horse, mounted with a cavalier in rich armor, cleaving the air with rapid flight. the wings of this strange courser were wide extended, and covered with feathers of various colors. the polished armor of the knight made them shine with rainbow tints. in a short time the horse and rider disappeared behind the summits of the mountains. "it is an enchanter," said the host, "a magician who often is seen traversing the air in that way. sometimes he flies aloft as if among the stars, and at others skims along the land. he possesses a wonderful castle on the top of the pyrenees. many knights have shown their courage by going to attack him, but none have ever returned, from which it is to be feared they have lost either their life or their liberty." bradamante, addressing the host, said, "could you furnish me a guide to conduct me to the castle of this enchanter?" "by my faith," said brunello, interrupting, "that you shall not seek in vain; i have it all in writing, and i will myself conduct you." bradamante, with thanks, accepted him for her guide. the host had a tolerable horse to dispose of, which bradamante bargained for, and the next day, at the first dawn of morning, she took her route by a narrow valley, taking care to have the saracen brunello lead the way. they reached the summit of the pyrenees, whence one may look down on france, spain, and the two seas. from this height they descended again by a fatiguing road into a deep valley. from the middle of this valley an isolated mountain rose, composed of rough and perpendicular rock, on whose summit was the castle, surrounded with a wall of brass. brunello said, "yonder is the stronghold where the enchanter keeps his prisoners; one must have wings to mount thither; it is easy to see that the aid of a flying horse must be necessary for the master of this castle, which he uses for his prison and for his abode." bradamante, sufficiently instructed, saw that the time had now come to possess herself of the ring; but she could not resolve to slay a defenceless man. she seized brunello before he was aware, bound him to a tree, and took from him the ring which he wore on one of his fingers. the cries and entreaties of the perfidious saracen moved her not. she advanced to the foot of the rock whereon the castle stood, and, to draw the magician to the combat, sounded her horn, adding to it cries of defiance. the enchanter delayed not to present himself, mounted on his winged horse. bradamante was struck with surprise mixed with joy when she saw that this person, described as so formidable, bore no lance nor club, nor any other deadly weapon. he had only on his arm a buckler, covered with a cloth, and in his hand an open book. as to the winged horse, there was no enchantment about him. he was a natural animal, of a species which exists in the riphaean mountains. like a griffin, he had the head of an eagle, claws armed with talons, and wings covered with feathers, the rest of his body being that of a horse. this strange animal is called a hippogriff. the heroine attacked the enchanter on his approach, striking on this side and on that, with all the energy of a violent combat, but wounding only the wind; and after this pretended attack had lasted some time dismounted from her horse, as if hoping to do battle more effectually on foot. the enchanter now prepares to employ his sole weapon, by uncovering the magic buckler which never failed to subdue an enemy by depriving him of his senses. bradamante, confiding in her ring, observed all the motions of her adversary, and, at the unveiling of the shield, cast herself on the ground, pretending that the splendor of the shield had overcome her, but in reality to induce the enchanter to dismount and approach her. it happened according to her wish. when the enchanter saw her prostrate he made his horse alight on the ground, and, dismounting, fixed the shield on the pommel of his saddle, and approached in order to secure the fallen warrior. bradamante, who watched him intently, as soon as she saw him near at hand, sprang up, seized him vigorously, threw him down, and, with the same chain which the enchanter had prepared for herself, bound him fast, without his being able to make any effectual resistance. the enchanter, with the accents of despair, exclaimed, "take my life, young man!" but bradamante was far from complying with such a wish. desirous of knowing the name of the enchanter, and for what purpose he had formed with so much art this impregnable fortress, she commanded him to inform her. "alas!" replied the magician, while tears flowed down his cheeks, "it is not to conceal booty, nor for any culpable design that i have built this castle; it was only to guard the life of a young knight, the object of my tenderest affection, my art having taught me that he is destined to become a christian, and to perish, shortly after, by the blackest of treasons. "this youth, named rogero, is the most beautiful and most accomplished of knights. it is i, the unhappy atlantes, who have reared him from his childhood. the call of honor and the desire of glory led him from me to follow agramant, his prince, in his invasion of france, and i, more devoted to rogero than the tenderest of parents, have sought the means of bringing him back to this abode, in the hope of saving him from the cruel fate that menaces him. "for this purpose i have got him in my possession by the same means as i attempted to employ against you; and by which i have succeeded in collecting a great many knights and ladies in my castle. my purpose was to render my beloved pupil's captivity light, by affording him society to amuse him, and keep his thoughts from running on subjects of war and glory. alas! my cares have been in vain! yet, take, i beseech you, whatever else i have, but spare me my beloved pupil. take this shield, take this winged courser, deliver such of your friends as you may find among my prisoners, deliver them all if you will, but leave me my beloved rogero; or if you will snatch him too from me, take also my life, which will cease then to be to me worth preserving." bradamante replied: "old man, hope not to move me by your vain entreaties. it is precisely the liberty of rogero that i require. you would keep him here in bondage and in slothful pleasure, to save him from a fate which you foresee. vain old man! how can you foresee his fate when you could not foresee your own? you desire me to take your life. no, my aim and my soul refuse the request." this said, she required the magician to go before, and guide her to the castle. the prisoners were set at liberty, though some, in their secret hearts, regretted the voluptuous life which was thus brought to an end. bradamante and rogero met one another with transports of joy. they descended from the mountain to the spot where the encounter had taken place. there they found the hippogriff, with the magic buckler in its wrapper, hanging to his saddle-bow. bradamante advanced to seize the bridle; the hippogriff seemed to wait her approach, but before she reached him he spread his wings and flew away to a neighboring hill, and in the same manner, a second time, eluded her efforts. rogero and the other liberated knights dispersed over the plain and hilltops to secure him, and at last the animal allowed rogero to seize his rein. the fearless rogero hesitated not to vault upon his back, and let him feel his spurs, which so roused his mettle that, after galloping a short distance, he suddenly spread his wings, and soared into the air. bradamante had the grief to see her lover snatched away from her at the very moment of reunion. rogero, who knew not the art of directing the horse, was unable to control his flight. he found himself carried over the tops of the mountains, so far above them that he could hardly distinguish what was land and what water. the hippogriff directed his flight to the west, and cleaved the air as swiftly as a new-rigged vessel cuts the waves, impelled by the freshest and most favorable gales. astolpho and the enchantress in the long flight which rogero took on the back of the hippogriff he was carried over land and sea, unknowing whither. as soon as he had gained some control over the animal he made him alight on the nearest land. when he came near enough to earth rogero leapt lightly from his back, and tied the animal to a myrtle-tree. near the spot flowed the pure waters of a fountain, surrounded by cedars and palm-trees. rogero laid aside his shield, and, removing his helmet, breathed with delight the fresh air, and cooled his lips with the waters of the fountain. for we cannot wonder that he was excessively fatigued, considering the ride he had taken. he was preparing to taste the sweets of repose when he perceived that the hippogriff, which he had tied by the bridle to a myrtle-tree, frightened at something, was making violent efforts to disengage himself. his struggle shook the myrtle-tree so that many of its beautiful leaves were torn off, and strewed the ground. a sound like that which issues from burning wood seemed to come from the myrtle-tree, at first faint and indistinct, but growing stronger by degrees, and at length was audible as a voice which spoke in this manner: "o knight, if the tenderness of your heart corresponds to the beauty of your person, relieve me, i pray you, from this tormenting animal. i suffer enough inwardly without having outward evils added to my lot." rogero, at the first accents of this voice, turned his eyes promptly on the myrtle, hastened to it, and stood fixed in astonishment when he perceived that the voice issued from the tree itself. he immediately untied his horse, and, flushed with surprise and regret, exclaimed, "whoever thou art, whether mortal or the goddess of these woods, forgive me, i beseech you, my involuntary fault. had i imagined that this hard bark covered a being possessed of feeling, could i have exposed such a beautiful myrtle to the insults of this steed? may the sweet influences of the sky and air speedily repair the injury i have done! for my part, i promise by the sovereign lady of my heart to do everything you wish in order to merit your forgiveness." at these words the myrtle seemed to tremble from root to stem, and rogero remarked that a moisture as of tears trickled down its bark, like that which exudes from a log placed on the fire. it then spoke: "the kindness which inspires your words compels me to disclose to you who i once was, and by what fatality i have been changed into this shape. my name was astolpho, cousin of orlando and rinaldo, whose fame has filled the earth. i was myself reckoned among the bravest paladins of france, and was by birth entitled to reign over england, after otho, my father. returning from the distant east, with rinaldo and many other brave knights, called home to aid with our arms the great emperor of france, we reached a spot where the powerful enchantress alcina possessed a castle on the borders of the sea. she had gone to the water-side to amuse herself with fishing, and we paused to see how, by her art, without hook or line, she drew from the water whatever she would. "not far from the shore an enormous whale showed a back so broad and motionless that it looked like an island. alcina had fixed her eyes on me, and planned to get me into her power. addressing us, she said: 'this is the hour when the prettiest mermaid in the sea comes regularly every day to the shore of yonder island. she sings so sweetly that the very waves flow smoother at the sound. if you wish to hear her come with me to her resort.' so saying, alcina pointed to the fish, which we all supposed to be an island. i, who was rash, did not hesitate to follow her; but swam my horse over, and mounted on the back of the fish. in vain rinaldo and dudon made signs to me to beware; alcina, smiling, took me in charge, and led the way. no sooner were we mounted upon him than the whale moved off, spreading his great fins, and cleft rapidly the waters. i then saw my folly, but it was too late to repent. alcina soothed my anger, and professed that what she had done was for love of me. ere long we arrived at this island, where at first everything was done to reconcile me to my lot, and to make my days pass happily away. but soon alcina, sated with her conquest, grew indifferent, then weary of me, and at last, to get rid of me, changed me into this form, as she had done to many lovers before me, making some of them olives, some palms, some cedars, changing others into fountains, rocks, or even into wild beasts. and thou, courteous knight, whom accident has brought to this enchanted isle, beware that she get not the power over thee, or thou shalt haply be made like us, a tree, a fountain, or a rock." rogero expressed his astonishment at this recital. astolpho added that the island was in great part subject to the sway of alcina. by the aid of her sister morgana, she had succeeded in dispossessing a third sister, logestilla, of nearly the whole of her patrimony, for the whole isle was hers originally by her father's bequest. but logestilla was temperate and sage, while the other sisters were false and voluptuous. her empire was divided from theirs by a gulf and chain of mountains, which alone had thus far prevented her sister from usurping it. astolpho here ended his tale, and rogero, who knew that he was the cousin of bradamante, would gladly have devised some way for his relief; but, as that was out of his power, he consoled him as well as he could, and then begged to be told the way to the palace of logestilla, and how to avoid that of alcina. astolpho directed him to take the road to the left, though rough and full of rocks. he warned him that this road would present serious obstacles; that troops of monsters would oppose his passage, employed by the art of alcina to prevent her subjects from escaping from her dominion. rogero thanked the myrtle, and prepared to set out on his way. he at first thought he would mount the winged horse, and scale the mountain on his back; but he was too uncertain of his power to control him to wish to encounter the hazard of another flight through the air, besides that he was almost famished for the want of food. so he led the horse after him, and took the road on foot, which for some distance led equally to the dominions of both the sisters. he had not advanced more than two miles when he saw before him the superb city of alcina. it was surrounded with a wall of gold, which seemed to reach the skies. i know that some think that this wall was not of real gold, but only the work of alchemy; it matters not; i prefer to think it gold, for it certainly shone like gold. a broad and level road led to the gates of the city, and from this another branched off, narrow and rough, which led to the mountain region. rogero took without hesitation the narrow road; but he had no sooner entered upon it than he was assailed by a numerous troop which opposed his passage. you never have seen anything so ridiculous, so extraordinary, as this host of hobgoblins were. some of them bore the human form from the neck to the feet, but had the head of a monkey or a cat; others had the legs and the ears of a horse; old men and women, bald and hideous, ran hither and thither as if out of their senses, half clad in the shaggy skins of beasts; one rode full speed on a horse without a bridle, another jogged along mounted on an ass or a cow; others, full of agility, skipped about, and clung to the tails and manes of the animals which their companions rode. some blew horns, others brandished drinking-cups; some were armed with spits, and some with pitchforks. one, who appeared to be the captain, had an enormous belly and a gross fat head; he was mounted on a tortoise, that waddled, now this way, now that, without keeping any one direction. one of these monsters, who had something approaching the human form, though he had the neck, ears, and muzzle of a dog, set himself to bark furiously at rogero, to make him turn off to the right, and reenter upon the road to the gay city; but the brave chevalier exclaimed, "that will i not, so long as i can use this sword,"--and he thrust the point directly at his face. the monster tried to strike him with a lance, but rogero was too quick for him, and thrust his sword through his body, so that it appeared a hand's breadth behind his back. the paladin, now giving full vent to his rage, laid about him vigorously among the rabble, cleaving one to the teeth, another to the girdle; but the troop were so numerous, and in spite of his blows pressed around him so close, that, to clear his way, he must have had as many arms as briareus. if rogero had uncovered the shield of the enchanter, which hung at his saddle-bow, he might easily have vanquished this monstrous rout; but perhaps he did not think of it, and perhaps he preferred to seek his defence nowhere but in his good sword. at that moment, when his perplexity was at its height, he saw issue from the city gate two young beauties, whose air and dress proclaimed their rank and gentle nurture. each of them was mounted on a unicorn, whose whiteness surpassed that of ermine. they advanced to the meadow where rogero was contending so valiantly against the hobgoblins, who all retired at their approach. they drew near, they extended their hands to the young warrior, whose cheeks glowed with the flush of exercise and modesty. grateful for their assistance, he expressed his thanks, and, having no heart to refuse them, followed their guidance to the gate of the city. this grand and beautiful entrance was adorned by a portico of four vast columns, all of diamond. whether they were real diamond or artificial i cannot say. what matter is it, so long as they appeared to the eye like diamond, and nothing could be more gay and splendid. on the threshold, and between the columns, was seen a bevy of charming young women, who played and frolicked together. they all ran to receive rogero, and conducted him into the palace, which appeared like a paradise. we might well call by that name this abode, where the hours flew by, without account, in ever-new delights. the bare idea of satiety, want, and, above all, of age, never entered the minds of the inhabitants. they experienced no sensations except those of luxury and gayety; the cup of happiness seemed for them ever-flowing and exhaustless. the two young damsels to whom rogero owed his deliverance from the hobgoblins conducted him to the apartment of their mistress. the beautiful alcina advanced, and greeted him with an air at once dignified and courteous. all her court surrounded the paladin, and rendered him the most flattering attentions. the castle was less admirable for its magnificence than for the charms of those who inhabited it. they were of either sex, well matched in beauty, youth, and grace; but among this charming group the brilliant alcina shone, as the sun outshines the stars. the young warrior was fascinated. all that he had heard from the myrtle-tree appeared to him but a vile calumny. how could he suspect that falsehood and treason veiled themselves under smiles and the ingenuous air of truth? he doubted not that astolpho had deserved his fate, and perhaps a punishment more severe; he regarded all his stories as dictated by a disappointed spirit, and a thirst for revenge. but we must not condemn rogero too harshly, for he was the victim of magic power. they seated themselves at table, and immediately harmonious lyres and harps waked the air with the most ravishing notes. the charms of poetry were added in entertaining recitals; the magnificence of the feast would have done credit to a royal board. the traitress forgot nothing which might charm the paladin, and attach him to the spot, meaning, when she should grow tired of him, to metamorphose him as she had done others. in the same manner passed each succeeding day. games of pleasant exercise, the chase, the dance, or rural sports, made the hours pass quickly; while they gave zest to the refreshment of the bath, or sleep. thus rogero led a life of ease and luxury, while charlemagne and agramant were struggling for empire. but i cannot linger with him while the amiable and courageous bradamante is night and day directing her uncertain steps to every spot where the slightest chance invites her, in the hope of recovering rogero. i will therefore say that, having sought him in vain in fields and in cities, she knew not whither next to direct her steps. she did not apprehend the death of rogero. the fall of such a hero would have reechoed from the hydaspes to the farthest river of the west; but, not knowing whether he was on the earth or in the air, she concluded, as a last resource, to return to the cavern which contained the tomb of merlin, to ask of him some sure direction to the object of her search. while this thought occupied her mind, melissa, the sage enchantress, suddenly appeared before her. this virtuous and beneficent magician had discovered by her spells that rogero was passing his time in pleasure and idleness, forgetful of his honor and his sovereign. not able to endure the thought that one who was born to be a hero should waste his years in base repose, and leave a sullied reputation in the memory of survivors, she saw that vigorous measures must be employed to draw him forth into the paths of virtue. melissa was not blinded by her affection for the amiable paladin, like atlantes, who, intent only on preserving rogero's life, cared nothing for his fame. it was that old enchanter whose arts had guided the hippogriff to the isle of the too charming alcina, where he hoped his favorite would learn to forget honor, and lose the love of glory. at the sight of melissa joy lighted up the countenance of bradamante, and hope animated her breast. melissa concealed nothing from her, but told her how rogero was in the toils of alcina. bradamante was plunged in grief and terror; but the kind enchantress calmed her, dispelled her fears, and promised that before many days she would lead back the paladin to her feet. "my daughter," she said, "give me the ring which you wear, and which possesses the power to overcome enchantments. by means of it i doubt not but that i may enter the stronghold where the false alcina holds rogero in durance, and may succeed in vanquishing her and liberating him." bradamante unhesitatingly delivered her the ring, recommending rogero to her best efforts. melissa then summoned by her art a huge palfrey, black as jet, excepting one foot, which was bay. mounted upon this animal, she rode with such speed that by the next morning she had reached the abode of alcina. she here transformed herself into the perfect resemblance of the old magician atlantes, adding a palm-breadth to her height, and enlarging her whole figure. her chin she covered with a long beard, and seamed her whole visage well with wrinkles. she assumed also his voice and manner, and watched her chance to find rogero alone. at last she found him, dressed in a rich tunic of silk and gold, a collar of precious stones about his neck, and his arms, once so rough with exercise, decorated with bracelets. his air and his every motion indicated effeminacy, and he seemed to retain nothing of rogero but the name; such power had the enchantress obtained over him. melissa, under the form of his old instructor, presented herself before him, wearing a stern and serious visage. "is this, then," she said, "the fruit of all my labors? is it for this that i fed you on the marrow of bears and lions, that i taught you to subdue dragons, and, like hercules, strangle serpents in your youthful grasp, only to make you, by all my cares, a feeble adonis? my nightly watchings of the stars, of the yet warm fibres of animals, the lots i have cast, the points of nativity that i have calculated, have they all falsely indicated that you were born for greatness? who could have believed that you would become the slave of a base enchantress? o rogero, learn to know this alcina, learn to understand her arts and to countervail them. take this ring, place it on your finger, return to her presence, and see for yourself what are her real charms." at these words, rogero, confused, abashed, cast his eyes upon the ground, and knew not what to answer. melissa seized the moment, slipped the ring on his finger, and the paladin was himself again. what a thunderclap to him! overcome by shame, he dared not to encounter the looks of his instructor. when at last he raised his eyes he beheld not that venerable form, but the priestess melissa, who in virtue of the ring now appeared in her true person. she told him of the motives which had led her to come to his rescue, of the griefs and regrets of bradamante, and of her unwearied search for him. "that charming amazon," she said, "sends you this ring, which is a sovereign antidote to all enchantments. she would have sent you her heart in my hands, if it would have had greater power to serve you." it was needless for melissa to say more. rogero's love for alcina, being but the work of enchantment, vanished as soon as the enchantment was withdrawn, and he now hated her with an equal intensity, seeing no longer anything in her but her vices, and feeling only resentment for the shame that she had put upon him. his surprise when he again beheld alcina was no less than his indignation. fortified by his ring from her enchantments, he saw her as she was, a monster of ugliness. all her charms were artificial, and, truly viewed, were rather deformities. she was, in fact, older than hecuba or the sibyl of cumae; but an art, which it is to be regretted our times have lost, enabled her to appear charming, and to clothe herself in all the attractions of youth. rogero now saw all this, but, governed by the counsels of melissa, he concealed his surprise, assumed under some pretext his armor, long neglected, and bound to his side belisarda, his trusty sword, taking also the buckler of atlantes, covered with its veil. he then selected a horse from the stables of alcina, without exciting her suspicions; but he left the hippogriff, by the advice of melissa, who promised to take him in charge, and train him to a more manageable state. the horse he took was rabican, which belonged to astolpho. he restored the ring to melissa. rogero had not ridden far when he met one of the huntsmen of alcina, bearing a falcon on his wrist, and followed by a dog. the huntsman was mounted on a powerful horse, and came boldly up to the paladin, demanding, in a somewhat imperious manner, whither he was going so rapidly. rogero disdained to stop or to reply; whereupon the huntsman, not doubting that he was about making his escape, said, "what if i, with my falcon, stop your ride?" so saying, he threw off the bird, which even rabican could not equal in speed. the huntsman then leapt from his horse, and the animal, open-mouthed, darted after rogero with the swiftness of an arrow. the huntsman also ran as if the wind or fire bore him, and the dog was equal to rabican in swiftness. rogero, finding flight impossible, stopped and faced his pursuers; but his sword was useless against such foes. the insolent huntsman assailed him with words, and struck him with his whip, the only weapon he had; the dog bit his feet, and the horse drove at him with his hoofs. at the same time the falcon flew over his head and over rabican's and attacked them with claws and wings, so that the horse in his fright began to be unmanageable. at that moment the sound of trumpets and cymbals was heard in the valley, and it was evident that alcina had ordered out all her array to go in pursuit. rogero felt that there was no time to be lost, and luckily remembered the shield of atlantes, which he bore suspended from his neck. he unveiled it, and the charm worked wonderfully. the huntsman, the dog, the horse, fell flat; the trembling wings of the falcon could no longer sustain her, and she fell senseless to the ground. rogero, rid of their annoyances, left them in their trance, and rode away. meanwhile alcina, with all the force she could muster, sallied forth from her palace in pursuit. melissa, left behind, took advantage of the opportunity to ransack all the rooms, protected by the ring. she undid one by one all the talismans and spells which she found, broke the seals, burned the images, and untied the hagknots. thence, hurrying through the fields, she disenchanted the victims changed into trees, fountains, stones, or brutes; all of whom recovered their liberty, and vowed eternal gratitude to their deliverer. they made their escape, with all possible despatch, to the realms of the good logestilla, whence they departed to their several homes. astolpho was the first whom melissa liberated, for rogero had particularly recommended him to her care. she aided him to recover his arms, and particularly that precious golden-headed lance which once was argalia's. the enchantress mounted with him upon the winged horse, and in a short time arrived through the air at the castle of logestilla, where rogero joined them soon after. in this abode the friends passed a short period of delightful and improving intercourse with the sage logestilla and her virtuous court; and then each departed, rogero with the hippogriff, ring, and buckler; astolpho with his golden lance, and mounted on rabican, the fleetest of steeds. to rogero logestilla gave a bit and bridle suited to govern the hippogriff; and to astolpho a horn of marvellous powers, to be sounded only when all other weapons were unavailing. the orc we left the charming angelica at the moment when, in her flight from her contending lovers, sacripant and rinaldo, she met an aged hermit. we have seen that her request to the hermit was to furnish her the means of gaining the sea-coast, eager to avoid rinaldo, whom she hated, by leaving france and europe itself. the pretended hermit, who was no other than a vile magician, knowing well that it would not be agreeable to his false gods to aid angelica in this undertaking, feigned to comply with her desire. he supplied her a horse, into which he had by his arts caused a subtle devil to enter, and, having mounted angelica on the animal, directed her what course to take to reach the sea. angelica rode on her way without suspicion, but when arrived at the shore, the demon urged the animal headlong into the water. angelica in vain attempted to turn him back to the land; he continued his course till, as night approached, he landed with his burden on a sandy headland. angelica, finding herself alone, abandoned in this frightful solitude, remained without movement, as if stupefied, with hands joined and eyes turned towards heaven, till at last, pouring forth a torrent of tears, she exclaimed: "cruel fortune, have you not yet exhausted your rage against me? to what new miseries do you doom me? alas! then finish your work! deliver me a prey to some ferocious beast, or by whatever fate you choose bring me to an end. i will be thankful to you for terminating my life and my misery." at last, exhausted by her sorrows, she fell asleep, and sunk prostrate on the sand. before recounting what next befell, we must declare what place it was upon which the unhappy lady was now thrown. in the sea that washes the coast of ireland there is an island called ebuda, whose inhabitants, once numerous, had been wasted by the anger of proteus till there were now but few left. this deity was incensed by some neglect of the usual honors which he had in old times received from the inhabitants of the land, and, to execute his vengeance, had sent a horrid sea-monster, called an orc, to devour them. such were the terrors of his ravages that the whole people of the isle had shut themselves up in the principal town, and relied on their walls alone to protect them. in this distress they applied to the oracle for advice, and were directed to appease the wrath of the sea-monster by offering to him the fairest virgin that the country could produce. now it so happened that the very day when this dreadful oracle was announced, and when the fatal mandate had gone forth to seek among the fairest maidens of the land one to be offered to the monster, some sailors, landing on the beach where angelica was, beheld that beauty as she lay asleep. o blind chance! whose power in human affairs is but too great, canst thou then abandon to the teeth of a horrible monster those charms which different sovereigns took arms against one another to possess? alas! the lovely angelica is destined to be the victim of those cruel islanders. still asleep, she was bound by the ebudians, and it was not until she was carried on board the vessel that she came to a knowledge of her situation. the wind filled the sails and wafted the ship swiftly to the port, where all that beheld her agreed that she was unquestionably the victim selected by proteus himself to be his prey. who can tell the screams, the mortal anguish of this unhappy maiden, the reproaches she addressed even to the heavens themselves, when the dreadful information of her cruel fate was made known to her? i cannot; let me rather turn to a happier part of my story. rogero left the palace of logestilla, careering on his flying courser far above the tops of the mountains, and borne westward by the hippogriff, which he guided with ease, by means of the bridle that melissa had given him. anxious as he was to recover bradamante, he could not fail to be delighted at the view his rapid flight presented of so many vast regions and populous countries as he passed over in his career. at last he approached the shores of england, and perceived an immense army in all the splendor of military pomp, as if about to go forth flushed with hopes of victory. he caused the hippogriff to alight not far from the scene, and found himself immediately surrounded by admiring spectators, knights and soldiers, who could not enough indulge their curiosity and wonder. rogero learned, in reply to his questions, that the fine array of troops before him was the army destined to go to the aid of the french emperor, in compliance with the request presented by the illustrious rinaldo, as ambassador of king charles, his uncle. by this time the curiosity of the english chevaliers was partly gratified in beholding the hippogriff at rest, and rogero, to renew their surprise and delight, remounted the animal, and, slapping spurs to his sides, made him launch into the air with the rapidity of a meteor, and directed his flight still westwardly, till he came within sight of the coasts of ireland. here he descried what seemed to be a fair damsel, alone, fast chained to a rock which projected into the sea. what was his astonishment when, drawing nigh, he beheld the beautiful princess angelica! that day she had been led forth and bound to the rock, there to wait till the sea-monster should come to devour her. rogero exclaimed as he came near, "what cruel hands, what barbarous soul, what fatal chance can have loaded thee with those chains?" angelica replied by a torrent of tears, at first her only response; then, in a trembling voice, she disclosed to him the horrible destiny for which she was there exposed. while she spoke, a terrible roaring was heard far off on the sea. the huge monster soon came in sight, part of his body appearing above the waves and part concealed. angelica, half dead with fear, abandoned herself to despair. rogero, lance in rest, spurred his hippogriff toward the orc, and gave him a thrust. the horrible monster was like nothing that nature produces. it was but one mass of tossing and twisting body, with nothing of the animal but head, eyes, and mouth, the last furnished with tusks like those of the wild boar. rogero's lance had struck him between the eyes; but rock and iron are not more impenetrable than were his scales. the knight, seeing the fruitlessness of the first blow, prepared to give a second. the animal, beholding upon the water the shadow of the great wings of the hippogriff, abandoned his prey, and turned to seize what seemed nearer. rogero took the opportunity, and dealt him furious blows on various parts of his body, taking care to keep clear of his murderous teeth; but the scales resisted every attack. the orc beat the water with his tail till he raised a foam which enveloped rogero and his steed, so that the knight hardly knew whether he was in the water or the air. he began to fear that the wings of the hippogriff would be so drenched with water that they would cease to sustain him. at that moment rogero bethought him of the magic shield which hung at his saddle-bow; but the fear that angelica would also be blinded by its glare discouraged him from employing it. then he remembered the ring which melissa had given him, the power of which he had so lately proved. he hastened to angelica and placed it on her finger. then, uncovering the buckler, he turned its bright disk full in the face of the detestable orc. the effect was instantaneous. the monster, deprived of sense and motion, rolled over on the sea, and lay floating on his back. rogero would fain have tried the effect of his lance on the now exposed parts, but angelica implored him to lose no time in delivering her from her chains before the monster should revive. rogero, moved with her entreaties, hastened to do so, and, having unbound her, made her mount behind him on the hippogriff. the animal, spurning the earth, shot up into the air, and rapidly sped his way through it. rogero, to give time to the princess to rest after her cruel agitations, soon sought the earth again, alighting on the shore of brittany. near the shore a thick wood presented itself, which resounded with the songs of birds. in the midst, a fountain of transparent water bathed the turf of a little meadow. a gentle hill rose near by. rogero, making the hippogriff alight in the meadow, dismounted, and took angelica from the horse. when the first tumults of emotion had subsided angelica, casting her eyes downward, beheld the precious ring upon her finger, whose virtues she was well acquainted with, for it was the very ring which the saracen brunello had robbed her of. she drew it from her finger and placed it in her mouth, and, quicker than we can tell it, disappeared from the sight of the paladin. rogero looked around him on all sides, like one frantic, but soon remembered the ring which he had so lately placed on her finger. struck with the ingratitude which could thus recompense his services, he exclaimed: "thankless beauty, is this then the reward you make me? do you prefer to rob me of my ring rather than receive it as a gift? willingly would i have given it to you, had you but asked it." thus he said, searching on all sides with arms extended like a blind man, hoping to recover by the touch what was lost to sight; but he sought in vain. the cruel beauty was already far away. though sensible of her obligations to her deliverer, her first necessity was for clothing, food, and repose. she soon reached a shepherd's hut, where, entering unseen, she found what sufficed for her present relief. an old herdsman inhabited the hut, whose charges consisted of a drove of mares. when recruited by repose angelica selected one of the mares from the flock, and, mounting the animal, felt the desire revive in her mind of returning to her home in the east, and for that purpose would gladly have accepted the protection of orlando or of sacripant across those wide regions which divided her from her own country. in hopes of meeting with one or the other of them she pursued her way. meanwhile rogero, despairing of seeing angelica again, returned to the tree where he had left his winged horse, but had the mortification to find that the animal had broken his bridle and escaped. this loss, added to his previous disappointment, overwhelmed him with vexation. sadly he gathered up his arms, threw his buckler over his shoulders, and, taking the first path that offered, soon found himself within the verge of a dense and widespread forest. he had proceeded for some distance when he heard a noise on his right, and, listening attentively, distinguished the clash of arms. he made his way toward the place whence the sound proceeded, and found two warriors engaged in mortal combat. one of them was a knight of a noble and manly bearing, the other a fierce giant. the knight appeared to exert consummate address in defending herself against the massive club of the giant, evading his strokes, or parrying them with sword or shield. rogero stood spectator of the combat, for he did not allow himself to interfere in it, though a secret sentiment inclined him strongly to take part with the knight. at length he saw with grief the massive club fall directly on the head of the knight, who yielded to the blow, and fell prostrate. the giant sprang forward to despatch him, and for that purpose unlaced his helmet, when rogero, with dismay, recognized the face of bradamante. he cried aloud, "hold, miscreant!" and sprang forward with drawn sword. whereupon the giant, as if he cared not to enter upon another combat, lifted bradamante on his shoulders, and ran with her into the forest. rogero plunged after him, but the long legs of the giant carried him forward so fast that the paladin could hardly keep him in sight. at length they issued from the wood, and rogero perceived before him a rich palace, built of marble, and adorned with sculptures executed by a master hand. into this edifice, through a golden door, the giant passed, and rogero followed; but, on looking round, saw nowhere either the giant or bradamante. he ran from room to room, calling aloud on his cowardly foe to turn and meet him; but got no response, nor caught another glimpse of the giant or his prey. in his vain pursuit he met, without knowing them, ferrau, florismart, king gradasso, orlando, and many others, all of whom had been entrapped like himself into this enchanted castle. it was a new stratagem of the magician atlantes to draw rogero into his power, and to secure also those who might by any chance endanger his safety. what rogero had taken for bradamante was a mere phantom. that charming lady was far away, full of anxiety for her rogero, whose coming she had long expected. the emperor had committed to her charge the city and garrison of marseilles, and she held the post against the infidels with valor and discretion. one day melissa suddenly presented herself before her. anticipating her questions, she said, "fear not for rogero; he lives, and is as ever true to you; but he has lost his liberty. the fell enchanter has again succeeded in making him a prisoner. if you would deliver him, mount your horse and follow me." she told her in what manner atlantes had deceived rogero, in deluding his eyes with the phantom of herself in peril. "such," she continued, "will be his arts in your own case, if you penetrate the forest and approach that castle. you will think you behold rogero, when, in fact, you see only the enchanter himself. be not deceived, plunge your sword into his body, and trust me when i tell you that, in slaying him, you will restore not only rogero, but with him many of the bravest knights of france, whom the wizard's arts have withdrawn from the camp of their sovereign." bradamante promptly armed herself, and mounted her horse. melissa led her by forced journeys, by field and forest, beguiling the way with conversation on the theme which interested her hearer most. when at last they reached the forest, she repeated once more her instructions, and then took her leave, for fear the enchanter might espy her, and be put on his guard. bradamante rode on about two miles when suddenly she beheld rogero, as it appeared to her, hard pressed by two fierce giants. while she hesitated she heard his voice calling on her for help. at once the cautions of melissa lost their weight. a sudden doubt of the faith and truth of her kind monitress flashed across her mind. "shall i not believe my own eyes and ears?" she said, and rushed forward to his defence. rogero fled, pursued by the giants, and bradamante followed, passing with them through the castle gate. when there, bradamante was undeceived, for neither giant nor knight was to be seen. she found herself a prisoner, but had not the consolation of knowing that she shared the imprisonment of her beloved. she saw various forms of men and women, but could recognize none of them; and their lot was the same with respect to her. each viewed the others under some illusion of the fancy, wearing the semblance of giants, dwarfs, or even four-footed animals, so that there was no companionship or communication between them. astolpho's adventures continued, and isabella's begun when astolpho escaped from the cruel alcina, after a short abode in the realm of the virtuous logestilla, he desired to return to his native country. logestilla lent him the best vessel of her fleet to convey him to the mainland. she gave him at parting a wonderful book, which taught the secret of overcoming all manners of enchantments, and begged him to carry it always with him, out of regard for her. she also gave him another gift, which surpassed everything of the kind that mortal workmanship can frame; yet it was nothing in appearance but a simple horn. astolpho, protected by these gifts, thanked the good fairy, took leave of her, and set out on his return to france. his voyage was prosperous, and on reaching the desired port he took leave of the faithful mariners, and continued his journey by land. as he proceeded over mountains and through valleys he often met with bands of robbers, wild beasts, and venomous serpents, but he had only to sound his horn to put them all to flight. having landed in france, and traversed many provinces on his way to the army, he one day, in crossing a forest, arrived beside a fountain, and alighted to drink. while he stooped at the fountain a young rustic sprang from the copse, mounted rabican, and rode away. it was a new trick of the enchanter atlantes. astolpho, hearing the noise, turned his head just in time to see his loss; and, starting up, pursued the thief, who, on his part, did not press the horse to his full speed, but just kept in sight of his pursuer till they both issued from the forest; and then rabican and his rider took shelter in a castle which stood near. astolpho followed, and penetrated without difficulty within the court-yard of the castle, where he looked around for the rider and his horse, but could see no trace of either, nor any person of whom he could make inquiry. suspecting that enchantment was employed to embarrass him, he bethought him of his book, and on consulting it discovered that his suspicions were well founded. he also learned what course to pursue. he was directed to raise the stone which served as a threshold, under which a spirit lay pent, who would willingly escape, and leave the castle free of access. astolpho applied his strength to lift aside the stone. thereupon the magician put his arts in force. the castle was full of prisoners, and the magician caused that to all of them astolpho should appear in some false guise--to some a wild beast, to others a giant, to others a bird of prey. thus all assailed him, and would quickly have made an end of him, if he had not bethought him of his horn. no sooner had he blown a blast than, at the horrid larum, fled the cavaliers and the necromancer with them, like a flock of pigeons at the sound of the fowler's gun. astolpho then renewed his efforts on the stone, and turned it over. the under face was all inscribed with magical characters, which the knight defaced, as directed by his book; and no sooner had he done so, than the castle, with its walls and turrets, vanished into smoke. the knights and ladies set at liberty were, besides rogero and bradamante, orlando, gradasso, florismart, and many more. at the sound of the horn they fled, one and all, men and steeds, except rabican, which astolpho secured, in spite of his terror. as soon as the sound had ceased rogero recognized bradamante, whom he had daily met during their imprisonment, but had been prevented from knowing by the enchanter's arts. no words can tell the delight with which they recognized each other, and recounted mutually all that had happened to each since they were parted. rogero took advantage of the opportunity to press his suit, and found bradamante as propitious as he could wish, were it not for a single obstacle, the difference of their faiths. "if he would obtain her in marriage," she said, "he must in due form demand her of her father, duke aymon, and must abandon his false prophet, and become a christian." the latter step was one which rogero had for some time intended taking, for reasons of his own. he therefore gladly accepted the terms, and proposed that they should at once repair to the abbey of vallombrosa, whose towers were visible at no great distance. thither they turned their horses' heads, and we will leave them to find their way without our company. i know not if my readers recollect that at the moment when rogero had just delivered angelica from the voracious orc that scornful beauty placed her ring in her mouth, and vanished out of sight. at the same time the hippogriff shook off his bridle, soared away, and flew to rejoin his former master, very naturally returning to his accustomed stable. here astolpho found him, to his very great delight. he knew the animal's powers, having seen rogero ride him, and he longed to fly abroad over all the earth, and see various nations and peoples from his airy course. he had heard logestilla's directions how to guide the animal, and saw her fit a bridle to his head. he therefore was able, out of all the bridles he found in the stable, to select one suitable, and, placing rabican's saddle on the hippogriff's back, nothing seemed to prevent his immediate departure. yet before he went he bethought him of placing rabican in hands where he would be safe, and whence he might recover him in time of need. while he stood deliberating where he should find a messenger, he saw bradamante approach. that fair warrior had been parted from rogero on their way to the abbey of vallombrosa, by an inopportune adventure which had called the knight away. she was now returning to montalban, having arranged with rogero to join her there. to bradamante, therefore, his fair cousin, astolpho committed rabican, and also the lance of gold, which would only be an incumbrance in his aerial excursion. bradamante took charge of both; and astolpho, bidding her farewell, soared in air. among those delivered by astolpho from the magician's castle was orlando. following the guide of chance, the paladin found himself at the close of day in a forest, and stopped at the foot of a mountain. surprised to discern a light which came from a cleft in the rock, he approached, guided by the ray, and discovered a narrow passage in the mountain-side, which led into a deep grotto. orlando fastened his horse, and then, putting aside the bushes that resisted his passage, stepped down from rock to rock till he reached a sort of cavern. entering it, he perceived a lady, young and handsome, as well as he could discover through the signs of distress which agitated her countenance. her only companion was an old woman, who seemed to be regarded by her young partner with terror and indignation. the courteous paladin saluted the women respectfully, and begged to know by whose barbarity they had been subjected to such imprisonment. the younger lady replied, in a voice often broken with sobs: "though i know well that my recital will subject me to worse treatment by the barbarous man who keeps me here, to whom this woman will not fail to report it, yet i will not hide from you the facts. ah! why should i fear his rage? if he should take my life, i know not what better boon than death i can ask. "my name is isabella. i am the daughter of the king of galicia, or rather i should say misfortune and grief are my parents. young, rich, modest, and of tranquil temper, all things appeared to combine to render my lot happy. alas! i see myself to-day poor, humbled, miserable, and destined perhaps to yet further afflictions. it is a year since, my father having given notice that he would open the lists for a tournament at bayonne, a great number of chevaliers from all quarters came together at our court. among these zerbino, son of the king of scotland, victorious in all combats, eclipsed by his beauty and his valor all the rest. before departing from the court of galicia he testified the wish to espouse me, and i consented that he should demand my hand of the king, my father. but i was a mahometan, and zerbino a christian, and my father refused his consent. the prince, called home by his father to take command of the forces destined to the assistance of the french emperor, prevailed on me to be married to him secretly, and to follow him to scotland. he caused a galley to be prepared to receive me, and placed in command of it the chevalier oderic, a biscayan, famous for his exploits both by land and sea. on the day appointed, oderic brought his vessel to a seaside resort of my father's, where i embarked. some of my domestics accompanied me, and thus i departed from my native land. "sailing with a fair wind, after some hours we were assailed by a violent tempest. it was to no purpose that we took in all sail; we were driven before the wind directly upon the rocky shore. seeing no other hopes of safety, oderic placed me in a boat, followed himself with a few of his men, and made for land. we reached it through infinite peril, and i no sooner felt the firm land beneath my feet, than i knelt down and poured out heartfelt thanks to the providence that had preserved me. "the shore where we landed appeared to be uninhabited. we saw no dwelling to shelter us, no road to lead us to a more hospitable spot. a high mountain rose before us, whose base stretched into the sea. it was here the infamous oderic, in spite of my tears and entreaties, sold me to a band of pirates, who fancied i might be an acceptable present to their prince, the sultan of morocco. this cavern is their den, and here they keep me under the guard of this woman, until it shall suit their convenience to carry me away." isabella had hardly finished her recital when a troop of armed men began to enter the cavern. seeing the prince orlando, one said to the rest, "what bird is this we have caught, without even setting a snare for him?" then addressing orlando, "it was truly civil in you, friend, to come hither with that handsome coat of armor and vest, the very things i want." "you shall pay for them, then," said orlando; and seizing a half-burnt brand from the fire, he hurled it at him, striking his head, and stretching him lifeless on the floor. there was a massy table in the middle of the cavern, used for the pirates' repasts. orlando lifted it and hurled it at the robbers as they stood clustered in a group toward the entrance. half the gang were laid prostrate, with broken heads and limbs; the rest got away as nimbly as they could. leaving the den and its inmates to their fate, orlando, taking isabella under his protection, pursued his way for some days, without meeting with any adventure. one day they saw a band of men advancing, who seemed to be guarding a prisoner, bound hand and foot, as if being carried to execution. the prisoner was a youthful cavalier, of a noble and ingenuous appearance. the band bore the ensigns of count anselm, head of the treacherous house of maganza. orlando desired isabella to wait, while he rode forward to inquire the meaning of this array. approaching, he demanded of the leader who his prisoner was, and of what crime he had been guilty. the man replied that the prisoner was a murderer, by whose hand pinabel, the son of count anselm, had been treacherously slain. at these words the prisoner exclaimed, "i am no murderer, nor have i been in any way the cause of the young man's death." orlando, knowing the cruel and ferocious character of the chiefs of the house of maganza, needed no more to satisfy him that the youth was the victim of injustice. he commanded the leader of the troop to release his victim, and, receiving an insolent reply, dashed him to the earth with a stroke of his lance; then by a few vigorous blows dispersed the band, leaving deadly marks on those who were slowest to quit the field. orlando then hastened to unbind the prisoner, and to assist him to reclothe himself in his armor, which the false magencian had dared to assume. he then led him to isabella, who now approached the scene of action. how can we picture the joy, the astonishment, with which isabella recognized in him zerbino, her husband, and the prince discovered her whom he had believed overwhelmed in the waves! they embraced one another, and wept for joy. orlando, sharing in their happiness, congratulated himself in having been the instrument of it. the princess recounted to zerbino what the illustrious paladin had done for her, and the prince threw himself at orlando's feet, and thanked him as having twice preserved his life. while these exchanges of congratulation and thankfulness were going on, a sound in the underwood attracted their attention, and caused the two knights to brace their helmets and stand on their guard. what the cause of the interruption was we shall record in another chapter. medoro france was at this time the theatre of dreadful events. the saracens and the christians, in numerous encounters, slew one another. on one occasion rinaldo led an attack on the infidel columns, broke and scattered them, till he found himself opposite to a knight whose armor (whether by accident or by choice, it matters not) bore the blazon of orlando. it was dardinel, the young and brave prince of zumara, and rinaldo remarked him by the slaughter he spread all around. "ah," said he to himself, "let us pluck up this dangerous plant before it has grown to its full height." as rinaldo advanced, the crowd opened before him, the christians to let his sword have free course, the pagans to escape its sweep. dardinel and he stood face to face. rinaldo exclaimed, fiercely, "young man, whoever gave you that noble buckler to bear made you a dangerous gift; i should like to see how you are able to defend those quarterings, red and white. if you cannot defend them against me, how pray will you do so when orlando challenges them?" dardinel replied: "thou shalt learn that i can defend the arms i bear, and shed new glory upon them. no one shall rend them from me but with life." saying these words, dardinel rushed upon rinaldo with sword uplifted. the chill of mortal terror filled the souls of the saracens when they beheld rinaldo advance to attack the prince, like a lion against a young bull. the first blow came from the hand of dardinel, and the weapon rebounded from mambrino's helmet without effect. rinaldo smiled, and said, "i will now show you if my strokes are more effectual." at these words he thrust the unfortunate dardinel in the middle of his breast. the blow was so violent that the cruel weapon pierced the body, and came out a palm-breadth behind his back. through this wound the life of dardinel issued with his blood, and his body fell helpless to the ground. as a flower which the passing plough has uprooted languishes, and droops its head, so dardinel, his visage covered with the paleness of death, expires, and the hopes of an illustrious race perish with him. like waters kept back by a dike, which, when the dike is broken, spread abroad through all the country, so the moors, no longer kept in column by the example of dardinel, fled in all directions. rinaldo despised too much such easy victories to pursue them; he wished for no combats but with brave men. at the same time, the other paladins made terrible slaughter of the moors. charles himself, oliver, guido, and ogier the dane, carried death into their ranks on all sides. the infidels seemed doomed to perish to a man on that dreadful day; but the wise king, marsilius, at last put some slight degree of method into the general rout. he collected the remnant of the troops, formed them into a battalion, and retreated in tolerable order to his camp. that camp was well fortified by intrenchments and a broad ditch. thither the fugitives hastened, and by degrees all that remained of the moorish army was brought together there. the emperor might perhaps that night have crushed his enemy entirely; but not thinking it prudent to expose his troops, fatigued as they were, to an attack upon a camp so well fortified, he contented himself with encompassing the enemy with his troops, prepared to make a regular siege. during the night the moors had time to see the extent of their loss. their tents resounded with lamentations. this warrior had to mourn a brother, that a friend; many suffered with grievous wounds, all trembled at the fate in store for them. there were two young moors, both of humble rank, who gave proof at that time of attachment and fidelity rare in the history of man. cloridan and medoro had followed their prince, dardinel, to the wars of france. cloridan, a bold huntsman, combined strength with activity. medoro was a mere youth, his cheeks yet fair and blooming. of all the saracens, no one united so much grace and beauty. his light hair was set off by his black and sparkling eyes. the two friends were together on guard at the rampart. about midnight they gazed on the scene in deep dejection. medoro, with tears in his eyes, spoke of the good prince dardinel, and could not endure the thought that his body should be cast out on the plain, deprived of funeral honors. "o my friend," said he, "must then the body of our prince be the prey of wolves and ravens? alas! when i remember how he loved me, i feel that if i should sacrifice my life to do him honor, i should not do more than my duty. i wish, dear friend, to seek out his body on the battlefield, and give it burial, and i hope to be able to pass through king charles's camp without discovery, as they are probably all asleep. you, cloridan, will be able to say for me, if i should die in the adventure, that gratitude and fidelity to my prince were my inducements." cloridan was both surprised and touched with this proof of the young man's devotion. he loved him tenderly, and tried for a long time every effort to dissuade him from his design; but he found medoro determined to accomplish his object or die in the endeavor. cloridan, unable to change his purpose, said, "i will go with you, medoro, and help you in this generous enterprise. i value not life compared with honor, and if i did, do you suppose, dear friend, that i could live without you? i would rather fall by the arms of our enemies than die of grief for the loss of you." when the two friends were relieved from their guard duty they went without any followers into the camp of the christians. all there was still; the fires were dying out; there was no fear of any attempt on the part of the saracens, and the soldiers, overcome by fatigue or wine, slept secure, lying upon the ground in the midst of their arms and equipage. cloridan stopped, and said, "medoro, i am not going to quit this camp without taking vengeance for the death of our prince. keep watch, be on your guard that no one shall surprise us; i mean to mark a road with my sword through the ranks of our enemies." so saying, he entered the tent where alpheus slept, who a year before had joined the camp of charles, and pretended to be a great physician and astrologer. but his science had deceived him, if it gave him hope of dying peacefully in his bed at a good old age; his lot was to die with little warning. cloridan ran his sword through his heart. a greek and a german followed, who had been playing late at dice: fortunate if they had continued their game a little longer; but they never reckoned a throw like this among their chances. cloridan next came to the unlucky grillon, whose head lay softly on his pillow. he dreamed probably of the feast from which he had but just retired; for when cloridan cut off his head wine flowed forth with the blood. the two young moors might have penetrated even to the tent of charlemagne; but knowing that the paladins encamped around him kept watch by turns, and judging that it was impossible they should all be asleep, they were afraid to go too near. they might also have obtained rich booty; but, intent only on their object, they crossed the camp, and arrived at length at the bloody field, where bucklers, lances, and swords lay scattered in the midst of corpses of poor and rich, common soldier and prince, horses and pools of blood. this terrible scene of carnage would have destroyed all hope of finding what they were in search of until dawn of day, were it not that the moon lent the aid of her uncertain rays. medoro raised his eyes to the planet, and exclaimed, "o holy goddess, whom our fathers have adored under three different forms,--thou who displayest thy power in heaven, on earth, and in the underworld,--thou who art seen foremost among the nymphs chasing the beasts of the forest,--cause me to see, i implore thee, the spot where my dear master lies, and make me all my life long follow the example which thou dost exhibit of works of charity and love." either by accident, or that the moon was sensible of the prayer of medoro, the cloud broke away, and the moonlight burst forth as bright as day. the rays seemed especially to gild the spot where lay the body of prince dardinel; and medoro, bathed in tears and with bleeding heart, recognized him by the quarterings of red and white on his shield. with groans stifled by his tears, and lamentations in accents suppressed, not from any fear for himself, for he cared not for life, but lest any one should be roused to interrupt their pious duty while yet incomplete, he proposed to his companion that they should together bear dardinel on their shoulders, sharing the burden of the beloved remains. marching with rapid strides under their precious load, they perceived that the stars began to grow pale, and that the shades of night would soon be dispersed by the dawn. just then zerbino, whose extreme valor had urged him far from the camp in pursuit of the fugitives, returning, entered the wood in which they were. some knights in his train perceived at a distance the two brothers-in-arms. cloridan saw the troop, and, observing that they dispersed themselves over the plain as if in search of booty, told medoro to lay down the body, and let each save himself by flight. he dropped his part, thinking that medoro would do the same; but the good youth loved his prince too well to abandon him, and continued to carry his load singly as well as he might, while cloridan made his escape. near by there was a part of the wood tufted as if nothing but wild animals had ever penetrated it. the unfortunate youth, loaded with the weight of his dead master, plunged into its recesses. cloridan, when he perceived that he had evaded his foes, discovered that medoro was not with him. "ah!" exclaimed he, "how could i, dear medoro, so forget myself as to consult my own safety without heeding yours?" so saying, he retraced the tangled passes of the wood toward the place from whence he had fled. as he approached he heard the noise of horses, and the menacing voices of armed men. soon he perceived medoro, on foot, with the cavaliers surrounding him. zerbino, their commander, bade them seize him. the unhappy medoro turned now this way, now that, trying to conceal himself behind an oak or a rock, still bearing the body, which he would by no means leave. cloridan not knowing how to help him, but resolved to perish with him, if he must perish, takes an arrow, fits it to his bow, discharges it, and pierces the breast of a christian knight, who falls helpless from his horse. the others look this way and that, to discover whence the fatal bolt was sped. one, while demanding of his comrades in what direction the arrow came, received a second in his throat, which stopped his words, and soon closed his eyes to the scene. zerbino, furious at the death of his two comrades, ran upon medoro, seized his golden hair, and dragged him forward to slay him. but the sight of so much youth and beauty commanded pity. he stayed his arm. the young man spoke in suppliant tones. "ah! signor," said he, "i conjure you by the god whom you serve, deprive me not of life until i shall have buried the body of the prince, my master. fear not that i will ask you any other favor; life is not dear to me; i desire death as soon as i shall have performed this sacred duty. do with me then as you please. give my limbs a prey to the birds and beasts; only let me first bury my prince." medoro pronounced these words with an air so sweet and tender that a heart of stone would have been moved by them. zerbino was so to the bottom of his soul. he was on the point of uttering words of mercy, when a cruel subaltern, forgetting all respect to his commander, plunged his lance into the breast of the young moor. zerbino, enraged at his brutality, turned upon the wretch to take vengeance, but he saved himself by a precipitate flight. cloridan, who saw medoro fall, could contain himself no longer. he rushed from his concealment, threw down his bow, and, sword in hand, seemed only desirous of vengeance for medoro, and to die with him. in a moment, pierced through and through with many wounds, he exerts the last remnant of his strength in dragging himself to medoro, to die embracing him. the cavaliers left them thus to rejoin zerbino, whose rage against the murderer of medoro had drawn him away from the spot. cloridan died; and medoro, bleeding copiously, was drawing near his end when help arrived. a young maiden approached the fallen knights at this critical moment. her dress was that of a peasant-girl, but her air was noble, and her beauty celestial; sweetness and goodness reigned in her lovely countenance. it was no other than angelica, the princess of cathay. when she had recovered that precious ring, as we have before related, angelica, knowing its value, felt proud in the power it conferred, travelled alone without fear, not without a secret shame that she had ever been obliged to seek protection in her wanderings of the count orlando and of sacripant. she reproached herself too as with a weakness that she had ever thought of marrying rinaldo; in fine, her pride grew so high as to persuade her that no man living was worthy to aspire to her hand. moved with pity at the sight of the young man wounded, and melted to tears at hearing the cause, she quickly recalled to remembrance the knowledge she had acquired in india, where the virtues of plants and the art of healing formed part of the education even of princesses. the beautiful queen ran into the adjoining meadow to gather plants of virtue to staunch the flow of blood. meeting on her way a countryman on horseback seeking a strayed heifer, she begged him to come to her assistance, and endeavor to remove the wounded man to a more secure asylum. angelica, having prepared the plants by bruising them between two stones, laid them with her fair hand on medoro's wound. the remedy soon restored in some degree the strength of the wounded man, who, before he would quit the spot, made them cover with earth and turf the bodies of his friend and of the prince. then surrendering himself to the pity of his deliverers, he allowed them to place him on the horse of the shepherd, and conduct him to his cottage. it was a pleasant farmhouse on the borders of the wood, bearing marks of comfort and competency. there the shepherd lived with his wife and children. there angelica tended medoro, and there, by the devoted care of the beautiful queen, his sad wound closed over, and he recovered his perfect health. o count rinaldo, o king sacripant! what availed it you to possess so many virtues and such fame? what advantage have you derived from all your high deserts? o hapless king, great agrican! if you could return to life, how would you endure to see yourself rejected by one who will bow to the yoke of hymen in favor of a young soldier of humble birth? and thou, ferrau, and ye numerous others who a hundred times have put your lives at hazard for this cruel beauty, how bitter will it be to you to see her sacrifice you all to the claims of the humble medoro! there, under the low roof of a shepherd, the flame of hymen was lighted for this haughty queen. she takes the shepherd's wife to serve in place of mother, the shepherd and his children for witnesses, and marries the happy medoro. angelica, after her marriage, wishing to endow medoro with the sovereignty of the countries which yet remained to her, took with him the road to the east. she had preserved through all her adventures a bracelet of gold enriched with precious stones, the present of the count orlando. having nothing else wherewith to reward the good shepherd and his wife, who had served her with so much care and fidelity, she took the bracelet from her arm and gave it to them, and then the newly-married couple directed their steps toward those mountains which separate france and spain, intending to wait at barcelona a vessel which should take them on their way to the east. orlando mad orlando, on the loss of angelica, laid aside his crest and arms, and arrayed himself in a suit of black armor expressive of his despair. in this guise he carried such slaughter among the ranks of the infidels that both armies were astonished at the achievements of the stranger knight. mandricardo, who had been absent from the battle, heard the report of these achievements and determined to test for himself the valor of the knight so extolled. he it was who broke in upon the conference of zerbino and isabella, and their benefactor orlando, as they stood occupied in mutual felicitations, after the happy reunion of the lovers by the prowess of the paladin. mandricardo, after contemplating the group for a moment, addressed himself to orlando in these words: "thou must be the man i seek. for ten days and more i have been on thy track. the fame of thy exploits has brought me hither, that i may measure my strength with thine. thy crest and shield prove thee the same who spread such slaughter among our troops. but these marks are superfluous, and if i saw thee among a hundred i should know thee by thy martial bearing to be the man i seek." "i respect thy courage," said orlando; "such a design could not have sprung up in any but a brave and generous soul. if the desire to see me has brought thee hither, i would, if it were possible, show thee my inmost soul. i will remove my visor, that you may satisfy your curiosity; but when you have done so i hope that you will also try and see if my valor corresponds to my appearance." "come on," said the saracen, "my first wish was to see and know thee; i will not gratify my second." orlando, observing mandricardo was surprised to see no sword at his side, nor mace at his saddle-bow. "and what weapon hast thou," said he, "if thy lance fail thee?" "do not concern yourself about that," said mandricardo; "i have made many good knights give ground with no other weapon than you see. know that i have sworn an oath never to bear a sword until i win back that famous durindana that orlando, the paladin, carries. that sword belongs to the suit of armor which i wear; that only is wanting. without doubt it was stolen, but how it got into the hands of orlando i know not. but i will make him pay dearly for it when i find him i seek him the more anxiously that i may avenge with his blood the death of king agrican, my father, whom he treacherously slew. i am sure he must have done it by treachery, for it was not in his power to subdue in fair fight such a warrior as my father." "thou liest," cried orlando; "and all who say so lie. i am orlando, whom you seek; yes, i am he who slew your father honorably. hold, here is the sword: you shall have it if your courage avails to merit it. though it belongs to me by right, i will not use it in this dispute. see, i hang it on this tree; you shall be master of it, if you bereave me of life; not else." at these words orlando drew durindana, and hung it on one of the branches of a tree near by. both knights, boiling with equal ardor, rode off in a semicircle; then rushed together with reins thrown loose, and struck one another with their lances. both kept their seats, immovable. the splinters of their lances flew into the air, and no weapon remained for either but the fragment which he held in his hand. then those two knights, covered with iron mail, were reduced to the necessity of fighting with staves, in the manner of two rustics, who dispute the boundary of a meadow, or the possession of a spring. these clubs could not long keep whole in the hands of such sturdy smiters, who were soon reduced to fight with naked fists. such warfare was more painful to him that gave than to him that received the blows. they next clasped, and strained each his adversary, as hercules did antaeus. mandricardo, more enraged than orlando, made violent efforts to unseat the paladin, and dropped the rein of his horse. orlando, more calm, perceived it. with one hand he resisted mandricardo, with the other he twitched the horse's bridle over the ears of the animal. the saracen dragged orlando with all his might, but orlando's thighs held the saddle like a vise. at last the efforts of the saracen broke the girths of orlando's horse; the saddle slipped; the knight, firm in his stirrups, slipped with it, and came to the ground hardly conscious of his fall. the noise of his armor in falling startled mandricardo's horse, now without a bridle. he started off in full career, heeding neither trees nor rocks nor broken ground. urged by fright, he ran with furious speed, carrying his master, who, almost distracted with rage, shouted and beat the animal with his fists, and thereby impelled his flight. after running thus three miles or more, a deep ditch opposed their progress. the horse and rider fell headlong into it, and did not find the bottom covered with feather-beds or roses. they got sadly bruised; but were lucky enough to escape without any broken limbs. mandricardo, as soon as he gained his feet, seized the horse by his mane with fury; but, having no bridle, could not hold him. he looked round in hopes of finding something that would do for a rein. just then fortune, who seemed willing to help him at last, brought that way a peasant with a bridle in his hand, who was in search of his farm horse that had strayed away. orlando, having speedily repaired his horse's girths, remounted, and waited a good hour for the saracen to return. not seeing him, he concluded to go in search of him. he took an affectionate leave of zerbino and isabella, who would willingly have followed him; but this the brave paladin would by no means permit. he held it unknightly to go in search of an enemy accompanied by a friend, who might act as a defender. therefore, desiring them to say to mandricardo, if they should meet him, that his purpose was to tarry in the neighborhood three days, and then repair to the camp of charlemagne, he took down durindana from the tree, and proceeded in the direction which the saracen's horse had taken. but the animal, having no guide but its terror, had so doubled and confused its traces that orlando, after two days spent in the search, gave up the attempt. it was about the middle of the third day when the paladin arrived on the pleasant bank of a stream which wound through a meadow enamelled with flowers. high trees, whose tops met and formed an arbor, over-shadowed the fountain; and the breeze which blew through their foliage tempered the heat. hither the shepherds used to resort to quench their thirst, and to enjoy the shelter from the midday sun. the air, perfumed with the flowers, seemed to breathe fresh strength into their veins. orlando felt the influence, though covered with his armor. he stopped in this delicious arbor, where everything seemed to invite to repose. but he could not have chosen a more fatal asylum. he there spent the most miserable moments of his life. he looked around, and noted with pleasure all the charms of the spot. he saw that some of the trees were carved with inscriptions--he drew near, and read them, and what was his surprise to find that they composed the name of angelica! farther on he found the name of medoro mixed with hers. the paladin thought he dreamed. he stood like one amazed--like a bird that, rising to fly, finds its feet caught in a net. orlando followed the course of the stream, and came to one of its turns where the rocks of the mountain bent in such a way as to form a sort of grotto. the twisted stems of ivy and the wild vine draped the entrance of this recess, scooped by the hand of nature. the unhappy paladin, on entering the grotto, saw letters which appeared to have been lately carved. they were verses which medoro had written in honor of his happy nuptials with the beautiful queen. orlando tried to persuade himself it must be some other angelica whom those verses celebrated, and as for medoro, he had never heard his name. the sun was now declining, and orlando remounted his horse, and went on his way. he soon saw the roof of a cottage whence the smoke ascended; he heard the barking of dogs and the lowing of cattle, and arrived at a humble dwelling which seemed to offer an asylum for the night. the inmates, as soon as they saw him, hastened to tender him service. one took his horse, another his shield and cuirass, another his golden spurs. this cottage was the very same where medoro had been carried, deeply wounded,--where angelica had tended him, and afterwards married him. the shepherd who lived in it loved to tell everybody the story of this marriage, and soon related it, with all its details, to the miserable orlando. having finished it, he went away, and returned with the precious bracelet which angelica, grateful for his services, had given him as a memorial. it was the one which orlando had himself given her. this last touch was the finishing stroke to the excited paladin. frantic, exasperated, he exclaimed against the ungrateful and cruel princess who had disdained him, the most renowned, the most indomitable of all the paladins of france,--him, who had rescued her from the most alarming perils,--him, who had fought the most terrible battles for her sake,--she to prefer to him a young saracen! the pride of the noble count was deeply wounded. indignant, frantic, a victim to ungovernable rage, he rushed into the forest, uttering the most frightful shrieks. "no, no!" cried he, "i am not the man they take me for! orlando is dead! i am only the wandering ghost of that unhappy count, who is now suffering the torments of hell!" orlando wandered all night, as chance directed, through the wood, and at sunrise his destiny led him to the fountain where medoro had engraved the fatal inscription. the frantic paladin saw it a second time with fury, drew his sword, and hacked it from the rock. unlucky grotto! you shall no more attract by your shade and coolness, you shall no more shelter with your arch either shepherd or flock. and you, fresh and pure fountain, you may not escape the rage of the furious orlando! he cast into the fountain branches, trunks of trees which he tore up, pieces of rocks which he broke off, plants uprooted, with the earth adhering, and turf and brushes, so as to choke the fountain, and destroy the purity of its waters. at length, exhausted by his violent exertions, bathed in sweat, breathless, orlando sunk panting upon the earth, and lay there insensible three days and three nights. the fourth day he started up and seized his arms. his helmet, his buckler, he cast far from him; his hauberk and his clothes he rent asunder; the fragments were scattered through the wood. in fine, he became a furious madman. his insanity was such that he cared not to retain even his sword. but he had no need of durindana, nor of other arms, to do wonderful things. his prodigious strength sufficed. at the first wrench of his mighty arm he tore up a pine-tree by the roots. oaks, beeches, maples, whatever he met in his path, yielded in like manner. the ancient forest soon became as bare as the borders of a morass, where the fowler has cleared away the bushes to spread his nets. the shepherds, hearing the horrible crashing in the forest, abandoned their flocks to run and see the cause of this unwonted uproar. by their evil star, or for their sins, they were led thither. when they saw the furious state the count was in, and his incredible force, they would fain have fled out of his reach, but in their fears lost their presence of mind. the madman pursued them, seized one and rent him limb from limb, as easily as one would pull ripe apples from a tree. he took another by the feet, and used him as a club to knock down a third. the shepherds fled; but it would have been hard for any to escape, if he had not at that moment left them to throw himself with the same fury upon their flocks. the peasants, abandoning their ploughs and harrows, mounted on the roofs of buildings and pinnacles of the rocks, afraid to trust themselves even to the oaks and pines. from such heights they looked on, trembling at the raging fury of the unhappy orlando. his fists, his teeth, his nails, his feet, seize, break, and tear cattle, sheep, and swine; the most swift in flight alone being able to escape him. when at last terror had scattered everything before him, he entered a cottage which was abandoned by its inhabitants, and there found that which served for food. his long fast had caused him to feel the most ravenous hunger. seizing whatever he found that was eatable, whether roots, acorns, or bread, raw meat or cooked, he gorged it indiscriminately. issuing thence again, the frantic orlando gave chase to whatever living thing he saw, whether men or animals. sometimes he pursued the deer and hind, sometimes he attacked bears and wolves, and with his naked hands killed and tore them, and devoured their flesh. thus he wandered, from place to place, through france, imperilling his life a thousand ways, yet always preserved by some mysterious providence from a fatal result. but here we leave orlando for a time, that we may record what befell zerbino and isabella after their parting with him. the prince and his fair bride waited, by orlando's request, near the scene of the battle for three days, that, if mandricardo should return, they might inform him where orlando would give him another meeting. at the end of that time their anxiety to know the issue led them to follow orlando's traces, which led them at last to the wood where the trees were inscribed with the names of angelica and medoro. they remarked how all these inscriptions were defaced, and how the grotto was disordered, and the fountain clogged with rubbish. but that which surprised them and distressed them most of all was to find on the grass the cuirass of orlando, and not far from it his helmet, the same which the renowned almontes once wore. hearing a horse neigh in the forest, zerbino turned his eyes in that direction, and saw brigliadoro, with the bridle yet hanging at the saddle-bow. he looked round for durindana, and found that famous sword, without the scabbard, lying on the grass. he saw also the fragments of orlando's other arms and clothing scattered on all sides over the plain. zerbino and isabella stood in astonishment and grief, not knowing what to think, but little imagining the true cause. if they had found any marks of blood on the arms or on the fragments of the clothing, they would have supposed him slain, but there were none. while they were in this painful uncertainty they saw a young peasant approach. he, not yet recovered from the terror of the scene, which he had witnessed from the top of a rock, told them the whole of the sad events. zerbino, with his eyes full of tears, carefully collected all the scattered arms. isabella also dismounted to aid him in the sad duty. when they had collected all the pieces of that rich armor they hung them like a trophy on a pine; and to prevent their being violated by any passers-by, zerbino inscribed on the bark this caution: "these are the arms of the paladin orlando." having finished this pious work, he remounted his horse, and just then a knight rode up, and requested zerbino to tell him the meaning of the trophy. the prince related the facts as they had happened; and mandricardo, for it was that saracen knight, full of joy, rushed forward, and seized the sword, saying, "no one can censure me for what i do; this sword is mine; i can take my own wherever i find it. it is plain that orlando, not daring to defend it against me, has counterfeited madness to excuse him in surrendering it." zerbino vehemently exclaimed, "touch not that sword. think not to possess it without a contest. if it be true that the arms you wear are those of hector, you must have got them by theft, and not by prowess." immediately they attacked one another with the utmost fury. the air resounded with thick-falling blows. zerbino, skilful and alert, evaded for a time with good success the strokes of durindana; but at length a terrible blow struck him on the neck. he fell from his horse, and the tartar king, possessed of the spoils of his victory, rode away. zerbino and isabella zerbino's pain at seeing the tartar prince go off with the sword surpassed the anguish of his wound; but now the loss of blood so reduced his strength that he could not move from where he fell. isabella, not knowing whither to resort for help, could only bemoan him, and chide her cruel fate. zerbino said, "if i could but leave thee, my best beloved, in some secure abode, it would not distress me to die; but to abandon thee so, without protection, is sad indeed." she replied, "think not to leave me, dearest; our souls shall not be parted; this sword will give me the means to follow thee." zerbino's last words implored her to banish such a thought, but live, and be true to his memory. isabella promised, with many tears, to be faithful to him so long as life should last. when he ceased to breathe, isabella's cries resounded through the forest, and reached the ears of a reverend hermit, who hastened to the spot. he soothed and calmed her, urging those consolations which the word of god supplies; and at last brought her to wish for nothing else but to devote herself for the rest of life wholly to religion. as she could not bear the thoughts of leaving her dead lord abandoned, the body was, by the good hermit's aid, placed upon the horse, and taken to the nearest inhabited place, where a chest was made for it, suitable to be carried with them on their way. the hermit's plan was to escort his charge to a monastery, not many days' journey distant, where isabella resolved to spend the remainder of her days. thus they travelled day after day, choosing the most retired ways, for the country was full of armed men. one day a cavalier met them, and barred their way. it was no other than rodomont, king of algiers, who had just left the camp of agramant, full of indignation at the treatment he had received from doralice. at sight of the lovely lady and her reverend attendant, with their horse laden with a burden draped with black, he asked the meaning of their journey. isabella told him her affliction, and her resolution to renounce the world and devote herself to religion, and to the memory of the friend she had lost. rodomont laughed scornfully at this, and told her that her project was absurd; that charms like hers were meant to be enjoyed, not buried, and that he himself would more than make amends for her dead lover. the monk, who promptly interposed to rebuke this impious talk, was commanded to hold his peace; and still persisting was seized by the knight and hurled over the edge of the cliff, where he fell into the sea, and was drowned. rodomont, when he had got rid of the hermit, again applied to the sad lady, heartless with affright, and, in the language used by lovers, said, "she was his very heart, his life, his light." having laid aside all violence, he humbly sued that she would accompany him to his retreat, near by. it was a ruined chapel from which the monks had been driven by the disorders of the time, and which rodomont had taken possession of. isabella, who had no choice but to obey, followed him, meditating as she went what resource she could find to escape out of his power, and keep her vow to her dead husband, to be faithful to his memory as long as life should last. at length she said, "if, my lord, you will let me go and fulfil my vow, and my intention, as i have already declared it, i will bestow upon you what will be to you of more value than a hundred women's hearts. i know an herb, and i have seen it on our way, which, rightly prepared, affords a juice of such power, that the flesh, if laved with it, becomes impenetrable to sword or fire. this liquor i can make, and will, to-day, if you will accept my offer; and when you have seen its virtue you will value it more than if all europe were made your own." rodomont, at hearing this, readily promised all that was asked, so eager was he to learn a secret that would make him as achilles was of yore. isabella, having collected such herbs as she thought proper, and boiled them, with certain mysterious signs and words, at length declared her labor done, and, as a test, offered to try its virtue on herself. she bathed her neck and bosom with the liquor, and then called on rodomont to smite with all his force, and see whether his sword had power to harm. the pagan, who during the preparations had taken frequent draughts of wine, and scarce knew what he did, drew his sword at the word, and struck across her neck with all his might, and the fair head leapt sundered from the snowy neck and breast. rude and unfeeling as he was, the pagan knight lamented bitterly this sad result. to honor her memory he resolved to do a work as unparalleled as her devotion. from all parts round he caused laborers to be brought, and had a tower built to enclose the chapel, within which the remains of zerbino and isabella were entombed. across the stream which flowed near by he built a bridge, scarce two yards wide, and added neither parapet nor rail. on the top of the tower a sentry was placed, who, when any traveller approached the bridge, gave notice to his master. rodomont thereupon sallied out, and defied the approaching knight to fight him upon the bridge, where any chance step a little aside would plunge the rider headlong in the stream. this bridge he vowed to keep until a thousand suits of armor should be won from conquered knights, wherewith to build a trophy to his victim and her lord. within ten days the bridge was built, and the tower was in progress. in a short time many knights, either seeking the shortest route, or tempted by a desire of adventure, had made the attempt to pass the bridge. all, without exception, had lost either arms or life, or both; some falling before rodomont's lance, others precipitated into the river. one day, as rodomont stood urging his workmen, it chanced that orlando in his furious mood came thither, and approached the bridge. rodomont halloed to him, "halt, churl; presume not to set foot upon that bridge; it was not made for such as you!" orlando took no notice, but pressed on. just then a gentle damsel rode up. it was flordelis, who was seeking her florismart. she saw orlando, and, in spite of his strange appearance, recognized him. rodomont, not used to have his commands disobeyed, laid hands on the madman, and would have thrown him into the river, but to his astonishment found himself in the gripe of one not so easily disposed of. "how can a fool have such strength?" he growled between his teeth. flordelis stopped to see the issue, where each of these two puissant warriors strove to throw the other from the bridge. orlando at last had strength enough to lift his foe with all his armor, and fling him over the side, but had not wit to clear himself from him, so both fell together. high flashed the wave as they together smote its surface. here orlando had the advantage; he was naked, and could swim like a fish. he soon reached the bank, and, careless of praise or blame, stopped not to see what came of the adventure. rodomont, entangled with his armor, escaped with difficulty to the bank. meantime, flordelis passed the bridge unchallenged. after long wandering without success she returned to paris, and there found the object of her search; for florismart, after the fall of albracca, had repaired thither. the joy of meeting was clouded to florismart by the news which flordelis brought of orlando's wretched plight. the last she had seen of him was when he fell with rodomont into the stream. florismart, who loved orlando like a brother, resolved to set out immediately, under the guidance of the lady, to find him, and bring him where he might receive the treatment suited to his case. a few days brought them to the place where they found the tartar king still guarding the bridge. the usual challenge and defiance was made, and the knights rode to encounter one another on the bridge. at the first encounter both horses were overthrown; and, having no space to regain their footing, fell with their riders into the water. rodomont, who knew the soundings of the stream, soon recovered the land; but florismart was carried downward by the current, and landed at last on a bank of mud where his horse could hardly find footing. flordelis, who watched the battle from the bridge, seeing her lover in this piteous case, exclaimed aloud, "ah! rodomont, for love of her whom dead you honor, have pity on me, who love this knight, and slay him not. let it suffice he yields his armor to the pile, and none more glorious will it bear than his." her prayer, so well directed, touched the pagan's heart, though hard to move, and he lent his aid to help the knight to land. he kept him a prisoner, however, and added his armor to the pile. flordelis, with a heavy heart, went her way. we must now return to rogero, who, when we parted with him, was engaged in an adventure which arrested his progress to the monastery whither he was bound with the intention of receiving baptism, and thus qualifying himself to demand bradamante as his bride. on his way he met with mandricardo, and the quarrel was revived respecting the right to wear the badge of hector. after a warm discussion both parties agreed to submit the question to king agramant, and for that purpose took their way to the saracen camp. here they met gradasso, who had his controversy also with mandricardo. this warrior claimed the sword of orlando, denying the right of mandricardo to possess it in virtue of his having found it abandoned by its owner. king agramant strove in vain to reconcile these quarrels, and was forced at last to consent that the points in dispute should be settled by one combat, in which mandricardo should meet one of the other champions, to whom should be committed the cause of both. rogero was chosen by lot to maintain gradasso's cause and his own. great preparations were made for this signal contest. on the appointed day it was fought in the presence of agramant, and of the whole army. rogero won it; and mandricardo, the conqueror of hector's arms, the challenger of orlando, and the slayer of zerbino, lost his life. gradasso received durindana as his prize, which lost half its value in his eyes, since it was won by another's prowess, not his own. rogero, though victorious, was severely wounded, and lay helpless many weeks in the camp of agramant, while bradamante, ignorant of the cause of his delay, expected him at montalban. thither he had promised to repair in fifteen days, or twenty at furthest, hoping to have obtained by that time an honorable discharge from his obligations to the saracen commander. the twenty days were passed, and a month more, and still rogero came not, nor did any tidings reach bradamante accounting for his absence. at the end of that time, a wandering knight brought news of the famous combat, and of rogero's wound. he added, what alarmed bradamante still more, that marphisa, a female warrior, young and fair, was in attendance on the wounded knight. he added that the whole army expected that, as soon as rogero's wounds were healed, the pair would be united in marriage. bradamante, distressed by this news, though she believed it but in part, resolved to go immediately and see for herself. she mounted rabican, the horse of astolpho, which he had committed to her care, and took with her the lance of gold, though unaware of its wonderful powers. thus accoutred, she left the castle, and took the road toward paris and the camp of the saracens. marphisa, whose devotion to rogero in his illness had so excited the jealousy of bradamante, was the twin sister of rogero. she, with him, had been taken in charge when an infant by atlantes, the magician, but while yet a child she had been stolen away by an arab tribe. adopted by their chief, she had early learned horsemanship and skill in arms, and at this time had come to the camp of agramant with no other view than to see and test for herself the prowess of the warriors of either camp, whose fame rang through the world. arriving at the very moment of the late encounter, the name of rogero, and some few facts of his story which she learned, were enough to suggest the idea that it was her brother whom she saw victorious in the single combat. inquiry satisfied the two of their near kindred, and from that moment marphisa devoted herself to the care of her new-found and much-loved brother. in those moments of seclusion rogero informed his sister of what he had learned of their parentage from old atlantes. rogero, their father, a christian knight, had won the heart of galaciella, daughter of the sultan of africa, and sister of king agramant, converted her to the christian faith, and secretly married her. the sultan, enraged at his daughter's marriage, drove her husband into exile, and caused her with her infant children, rogero and marphisa, to be placed in a boat and committed to the winds and waves, to perish; from which fate they were saved by atlantes. on hearing this, marphisa exclaimed, "how can you, brother, leave our parents unavenged so long, and even submit to serve the son of the tyrant who so wronged them?" rogero replied that it was but lately he had learned the full truth; that when he learned it he was already embarked with agramant, from whom he had received knighthood, and that he only waited for a suitable opportunity when he might with honor desert his standard, and at the same time return to the faith of his fathers. marphisa hailed this resolution with joy, and declared her intention to join with him in embracing the christian faith. we left bradamante when, mounted on rabican and armed with astolpho's lance, she rode forth, determined to learn the cause of rogero's long absence. one day, as she rode, she met a damsel, of visage and of manners fair, but overcome with grief. it was flordelis, who was seeking far and near a champion capable of liberating and avenging her lord. flordelis marked the approaching warrior, and, judging from appearances, thought she had found the champion she sought. "are you, sir knight," she said, "so daring and so kind as to take up my cause against a fierce and cruel warrior who has made prisoner of my lord, and forced me thus to be a wanderer and a suppliant?" then she related the events which had happened at the bridge. bradamante, to whom noble enterprises were always welcome, readily embraced this, and the rather as in her gloomy forebodings she felt as if rogero was forever lost to her. next day the two arrived at the bridge. the sentry descried them approaching, and gave notice to his lord, who thereupon donned his armor and went forth to meet them. here, as usual, he called on the advancing warrior to yield his horse and arms an oblation to the tomb. bradamante replied, asking by what right he called on the innocent to do penance for his crime. "your life and your armor," she added, "are the fittest offering to her tomb, and i, a woman, the fittest champion to take them." with that she couched her spear, spurred her horse, and ran to the encounter. king rodomont came on with speed. the trampling sounded on the bridge like thunder. it took but a moment to decide the contest. the golden lance did its office, and that fierce moor, so renowned in tourney, lay extended on the bridge. "who is the loser now?" said bradamante; but rodomont, amazed that a woman's hand should have laid him low, could not or would not answer. silent and sad, he raised himself, unbound his helm and mail, and flung them against the tomb; then, sullen and on foot, left the ground; but first gave orders to one of his squires to release all his prisoners. they had been sent off to africa. besides florismart, there were sansonnet and oliver, who had ridden that way in quest of orlando, and had both in turn been overthrown in the encounter. bradamante after her victory resumed her route, and in due time reached the christian camp, where she readily learned an explanation of the mystery which had caused her so much anxiety. rogero and his fair and brave sister, marphisa, were too illustrious by their station and exploits not to be the frequent topic of discourse even among their adversaries, and all that bradamante was anxious to know reached her ear, almost without inquiry. we now return to gradasso, who by rogero's victory had been made possessor of durindana. there now only remained to him to seek the horse of rinaldo; and the challenge, given and accepted, was yet to be fought with that warrior, for it had been interrupted by the arts of malagigi. gradasso now sought another meeting with rinaldo, and met with no reluctance on his part. as the combat was for the possession of bayard, the knights dismounted and fought on foot. long time the battle lasted. rinaldo, knowing well the deadly stroke of durindana, used all his art to parry or avoid its blow. gradasso struck with might and main, but wellnigh all his strokes were spent in air, or if they smote they fell obliquely and did little harm. thus had they fought long, glancing at one another's eyes, and seeing naught else, when their attention was arrested perforce by a strange noise. they turned, and beheld the good bayard attacked by a monstrous bird. perhaps it was a bird, for such it seemed; but when or where such a bird was ever seen i have nowhere read, except in turpin; and i am inclined to believe that it was not a bird, but a fiend, evoked from underground by malagigi, and thither sent on purpose to interrupt the fight. whether a fiend or a fowl, the monster flew right at bayard, and clapped his wings in his face. thereat the steed broke loose, and ran madly across the plain, pursued by the bird, till bayard plunged into the wood, and was lost to sight. rinaldo and gradasso, seeing bayard's escape, agreed to suspend their battle till they could recover the horse, the object of contention. gradasso mounted his steed, and followed the foot-marks of bayard into the forest. rinaldo, never more vexed in spirit, remained at the spot, gradasso having promised to return thither with the horse, if he found him. he did find him, after long search, for he had the good fortune to hear him neigh. thus he became possessed of both the objects for which he had led an army from his own country, and invaded france. he did not forget his promise to bring bayard back to the place where he had left rinaldo, but only muttering, "now i have got him, he little knows me who expects me to give him up; if rinaldo wants the horse let him seek him in india, as i have sought him in france,"--he made the best of his way to arles, where his vessels lay; and in possession of the two objects of his ambition, the horse and the sword, sailed away to his own country. astolpho in abyssinia when we last parted with the adventurous paladin astolpho, he was just commencing that flight over the countries of the world from which he promised himself so much gratification. our readers are aware that the eagle and the falcon have not so swift a flight as the hippogriff on which astolpho rode. it was not long, therefore, before the paladin, directing his course toward the southeast, arrived over that part of africa where the great river nile has its source. here he alighted, and found himself in the neighborhood of the capital of abyssinia, ruled by senapus, whose riches and power were immense. his palace was of surpassing splendor; the bars of the gates, the hinges and locks, were all of pure gold; in fact, this metal, in that country, is put to all those uses for which we employ iron. it is so common that they prefer for ornamental purposes rock crystal, of which all the columns were made. precious stones of different kinds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and topazes were set in ornamental designs, and the walls and ceilings were adorned with pearls. it is in this country those famous balms grow of which there are some few plants in that part of judaea called gilead. musk, ambergris, and numerous gums, so precious in europe, are here in their native climate. it is said the sultan of egypt pays a vast tribute to the monarch of this country to hire him not to cut off the source of the nile, which he might easily do, and cause the river to flow in some other direction, thus depriving egypt of the source of its fertility. at the time of astolpho's arrival in his dominions, this monarch was in great affliction. in spite of his riches and the precious productions of his country, he was in danger of dying of hunger. he was a prey to a flock of obscene birds called harpies, which attacked him whenever he sat at meat, and with their claws snatched, tore, and scattered everything, overturning the vessels, devouring the food, and infecting what they left with their filthy touch. it was said this punishment was inflicted upon the king because when young, and filled with pride and presumption, he had attempted to invade with an army the terrestrial paradise, which is situated on the top of a mountain whence the nile draws its source. nor was this his only punishment. he was struck blind. astolpho, on arriving in the dominions of this monarch, hastened to pay him his respects. king senapus received him graciously, and ordered a splendid repast to be prepared in honor of his arrival. while the guests were seated at table, astolpho filling the place of dignity at the king's right hand, the horrid scream of the harpies was heard in the air, and soon they approached, hovering over the tables, seizing the food from the dishes, and overturning everything with the flapping of their broad wings. in vain the guests struck at them with knives and any weapons which they had, and astolpho drew his sword and gave them repeated blows, which seemed to have no more effect upon them than if their bodies had been made of tow. at last astolpho thought of his horn. he first gave warning to the king and his guests to stop their ears; then blew a blast. the harpies, terrified at the sound, flew away as fast as their wings could carry them. the paladin mounted his hippogriff, and pursued them, blowing his horn as often as he came near them. they stretched their flight towards the great mountain, at the foot of which there is a cavern, which is thought to be the mouth of the infernal abodes. hither those horrid birds flew, as if to their home. having seen them all disappear in the recess, astolpho cared not to pursue them farther, but alighting, rolled huge stones into the mouth of the cave, and piled branches of trees therein, so that he effectually barred their passage out, and we have no evidence of their ever having been seen since in the outer air. after this labor astolpho refreshed himself by bathing in a fountain whose pure waters bubbled from a cleft of the rock. having rested awhile, an earnest desire seized him of ascending the mountain which towered above him. the hippogriff bore him swiftly upwards, and landed him on the top of the mountain, which he found to be an extensive plain. a splendid palace rose in the middle of this plain, whose walls shone with such brilliancy that mortal eyes could hardly bear the sight. astolpho guided the winged horse towards this edifice, and made him poise himself in the air while he took a leisurely survey of this favored spot and its environs. it seemed as if nature and art had striven with one another to see which could do the most for its embellishment. astolpho, on approaching the edifice, saw a venerable man advance to meet him. this personage was clothed in a long vesture as white as snow, while a mantle of purple covered his shoulders, and hung down to the ground. a white beard descended to his middle, and his hair, of the same color, overshadowed his shoulders. his eyes were so brilliant that astolpho felt persuaded that he was a blessed inhabitant of the heavenly mansions. the sage, smiling benignantly upon the paladin, who from respect had dismounted from his horse, said to him: "noble chevalier, know that it is by the divine will you have been brought to the terrestrial paradise. your mortal nature could not have borne to scale these heights and reach these seats of bliss if it were not the will of heaven that you should be instructed in the means to succor charles, and to sustain the glory of our holy faith. i am prepared to impart the needed counsels; but before i begin let me welcome you to our sojourn. i doubt not your long fast and distant journey have given you a good appetite." the aspect of the venerable man filled the prince with admiration; but his surprise ceased when he learned from him that he was that one of the apostles of our lord to whom he said, "i will that thou tarry till i come." st. john, conducting astolpho, rejoined his companions. these were the patriarch enoch and the prophet elijah; neither of whom had yet seen his dying day, but, taken from our lower world, were dwelling in a region of peace and joy, in a climate of eternal spring, till the last trumpet shall sound. the three holy inhabitants of the terrestrial paradise received astolpho with the greatest kindness, carried him to a pleasant apartment, and took great care of the hippogriff, to whom they gave such food as suited him, while to the prince they presented fruits so delicious that he felt inclined to excuse our first parents for their sin in eating them without permission. astolpho, having recruited his strength, not only by these excellent fruits, but also by sweet sleep, roused himself at the first blush of dawn, and as soon as he left his chamber met the beloved apostle coming to seek him. st. john took him by the hand, and told him many things relating to the past and the future. among others, he said, "son, let me tell you what is now going on in france. orlando, the illustrious prince who received at his birth the endowment of strength and courage more than mortal, raised up as was samson of old to be the champion of the true faith, has been guilty of the basest ingratitude in leaving the christian camp when it most needed the support of his arm, to run after a saracen princess, whom he would fain marry, though she scorns him. to punish him his reason has been taken away, so that he runs naked through the land, over mountains and through valleys, without a ray of intelligence. the duration of his punishment has been fixed at three months, and that time having nearly expired, you have been brought hither to learn from us the means by which the reason of orlando may be restored. true, you will be obliged to make a journey with me, and we must even leave the earth, and ascend to the moon, for it is in that planet we are to seek the remedy for the madness of the paladin. i propose to make our journey this evening, as soon as the moon appears over our head." as soon as the sun sunk beneath the seas, and the moon presented its luminous disk, the holy man had the chariot brought out in which he was accustomed to make excursions among the stars, the same which was employed long ago to convey elijah up from earth. the saint made astolpho seat himself beside him, took the reins, and giving the word to the coursers, they bore them upward with astonishing celerity. at length they reached the great continent of the moon. its surface appeared to be of polished steel, with here and there a spot which, like rust, obscured its brightness. the paladin was astonished to see that the earth, with all its seas and rivers, seemed but an insignificant spot in the distance. the prince discovered in this region so new to him rivers, lakes, plains, hills, and valleys. many beautiful cities and castles enriched the landscape. he saw also vast forests, and heard in them the sound of horns and the barking of dogs, which led him to conclude that the nymphs were following the chase. the knight, filled with wonder at all he saw, was conducted by the saint to a valley, where he stood amazed at the riches strewed all around him. well he might be so, for that valley was the receptacle of things lost on earth, either by men's fault, or by the effect of time and chance. let no one suppose we speak here of kingdoms or of treasures; they are the toys of fortune, which she dispenses in turning her wheel; we speak of things which she can neither give nor take away. such are reputations, which appear at one time so brilliant, and a short time after are heard of no more. here, also, are countless vows and prayers for unattainable objects, lovers' sighs and tears, time spent in gaming, dressing, and doing nothing, the leisure of the dull and the intentions of the lazy, baseless projects, intrigues, and plots; these and such like things fill all the valley. astolpho had a great desire to understand all that he saw, and which appeared to him so extraordinary. among the rest, he observed a great mountain of blown bladders, from which issued indistinct noises. the saint told him these were the dynasties of assyrian and persian kings, once the wonder of the earth, of which now scarce the name remains. astolpho could not help laughing when the saint said to him, "all these hooks of silver and gold that you see are the gifts of courtiers to princes, made in the hope of getting something better in return." he also showed him garlands of flowers in which snares were concealed; these were flatteries and adulations, meant to deceive. but nothing was so comical as the sight of numerous grasshoppers which had burst their lungs with chirping. these, he told him, were sonnets, odes, and dedications, addressed by venal poets to great people. the paladin beheld with wonder what seemed a lake of spilled milk. "it is," said the saint, "the charity done by frightened misers on their death-beds." it would take too long to tell all that the valley contained: meanness, affectations, pretended virtues, and concealed vices were there in abundance. among the rest astolpho perceived many days of his own lost, and many imprudent sallies which he had made, and would have been glad not to have been reminded of. but he also saw among so many lost things a great abundance of one thing which men are apt to think they all possess, and do not think it necessary to pray for,--good sense. this commodity appeared under the form of a liquor, most light and apt to evaporate. it was therefore kept in vials, firmly sealed. one of these was labelled, "the sense of the paladin orlando." all the bottles were ticketed, and the sage placed one in astolpho's hand, which he found was his own. it was more than half full. he was surprised to find there many other vials which contained almost the whole of the wits of many persons who passed among men for wise. ah, how easy it is to lose one's reason! some lose theirs by yielding to the sway of the passions; some in braving tempests and shoals in search of wealth; some by trusting too much to the promises of the great; some by setting their hearts on trifles. as might have been expected, the bottles which held the wits of astrologers, inventors, metaphysicians, and above all, of poets, were in general the best filled of all. astolpho took his bottle, put it to his nose, and inhaled it all; and turpin assures us that he was for a long time afterwards as sage as one could wish; but the archbishop adds that there was reason to fear that some of the precious fluid afterwards found its way back into the bottle. the paladin took also the bottle which belonged to orlando. it was a large one, and quite full. before quitting the planetary region astolpho was conducted to an edifice on the borders of a river. he was shown an immense hall full of bundles of silk, linen, cotton, and wool. a thousand different colors, brilliant or dull, some quite black, were among these skeins. in one part of the hall an old woman was busy winding off yarns from all these different bundles. when she had finished a skein another ancient dame took it and placed it with others; a third selected from the fleeces spun, and mingled them in due proportions. the paladin inquired what all this might be. "these old women," said the saint, "are the fates, who spin, measure, and terminate the lives of mortals. as long as the thread stretches in one of those skeins, so long does the mortal enjoy the light of day; but nature and death are on the alert to shut the eyes of those whose thread is spun." each one of the skeins had a label of gold, silver, or iron, bearing the name of the individual to whom it belonged. an old man, who, in spite of the burden of years, seemed brisk and active, ran without ceasing to fill his apron with these labels, and carried them away to throw them into the river, whose name was lethe. when he reached the shore of the river the old man shook out his apron, and the labels sunk to the bottom. a small number only floated for a time, hardly one in a thousand. numberless birds, hawks, crows, and vultures hovered over the stream, with clamorous cries, and strove to snatch from the water some of these names; but they were too heavy for them, and after a while the birds were forced to let them drop into the river of oblivion. but two beautiful swans, of snowy whiteness, gathered some few of the names, and returned with them to the shore, where a lovely nymph received them from their beaks, and carried them to a temple placed upon a hill, and suspended them for all time upon a sacred column, on which stood the statue of immortality. astolpho was amazed at all this, and asked his guide to explain it. he replied, "the old man is time. all the names upon the tickets would be immortal if the old man did not plunge them into the river of oblivion. those clamorous birds which make vain efforts to save certain of the names are flatterers, pensioners, venal rhymesters, who do their best to rescue from oblivion the unworthy names of their patrons; but all in vain; they may keep them from their fate a little while, but ere long the river of oblivion must swallow them all. "the swans, that with harmonious strains carry certain names to the temple of eternal memory, are the great poets, who save from oblivion worse than death the names of those they judge worthy of immortality. swans of this kind are rare. let monarchs know the true breed, and fail not to nourish with care such as may chance to appear in their time." the war in africa when astolpho had descended to the earth with the precious phial, st. john showed him a plant of marvellous virtues, with which he told him he had only to touch the eyes of the king of abyssinia to restore him to sight. "that important service," said the saint, "added to your having delivered him from the harpies, will induce him to give you an army wherewith to attack the africans in their rear, and force them to return from france to defend their own country." the saint also instructed him how to lead his troops in safety across the great deserts, where caravans are often overwhelmed with moving columns of sand. astolpho, fortified with ample instructions, remounted the hippogriff, thanked the saint, received his blessing, and took his flight down to the level country. keeping the course of the river nile, he soon arrived at the capital of abyssinia, and rejoined senapus. the joy of the king was great when he heard again the voice of the hero who had delivered him from the harpies. astolpho touched his eyes with the plant which he had brought from the terrestrial paradise, and restored their sight. the king's gratitude was unbounded. he begged him to name a reward, promising to grant it, whatever it might be. astolpho asked an army to go to the assistance of charlemagne, and the king not only granted him a hundred thousand men, but offered to lead them himself. the night before the day appointed for the departure of the troops astolpho mounted his winged horse, and directed his flight towards a mountain, whence the fierce south-wind issues, whose blast raises the sands of the nubian desert, and whirls them onward in overwhelming clouds. the paladin, by the advice of st. john, had prepared himself with a leather bag, which he placed adroitly, with its mouth open, over the vent whence issues this terrible wind. at the first dawn of morning the wind rushed from its cavern to resume its daily course, and was caught in the bag, and securely tied up. astolpho, delighted with his prize, returned to his army, placed himself at their head, and commenced his march. the abyssinians traversed without danger or difficulty those vast fields of sand which separate their country from the kingdoms of northern africa, for the terrible south-wind, taken completely captive, had not force enough left to blow out a candle. senapus was distressed that he could not furnish any cavalry, for his country, rich in camels and elephants, was destitute of horses. this difficulty the saint had foreseen, and had taught astolpho the means of remedying. he now put those means in operation. having reached a place whence he beheld a vast plain and the sea, he chose from his troops those who appeared to be the best made and the most intelligent. these he caused to be arranged in squadrons at the foot of a lofty mountain which bordered the plain, and he himself mounted to the summit to carry into effect his great design. here he found vast quantities of fragments of rock and pebbles. these he set rolling down the mountain's side, and, wonderful to relate, as they rolled they grew in size, made themselves bodies, legs, necks, and long faces. next they began to neigh, to curvet, to scamper on all sides over the plain. some were bay, some roan, some dapple, some chestnut. the troops at the foot of the mountain exerted themselves to catch these new-created horses, which they easily did, for the miracle had been so considerate as to provide all the horses with bridles and saddles. astolpho thus suddenly found himself supplied with an excellent corps of cavalry, not fewer (as archbishop turpin asserts) than eighty thousand strong. with these troops astolpho reduced all the country to subjection, and at last arrived before the walls of agramant's capital city, biserta, to which he laid siege. we must now return to the camp of the christians, which lay before arles, to which city the saracens had retired after being defeated in a night attack led on by rinaldo. agramant here received the tidings of the invasion of his country by a fresh enemy, the abyssinians, and learned that biserta was in danger of falling into their hands. he took counsel of his officers, and decided to send an embassy to charles, proposing that the whole quarrel should be submitted to the combat of two warriors, one from each side, according to the issue of which it should be decided which party should pay tribute to the other, and the war should cease. charlemagne, who had not heard of the favorable turn which affairs had taken in africa, readily agreed to this proposal, and rinaldo was selected on the part of the christians to sustain the combat. the saracens selected rogero for their champion. rogero was still in the saracen camp, kept there by honor alone, for his mind had been opened to the truth of the christian faith by the arguments of bradamante, and he had resolved to leave the party of the infidels on the first favorable opportunity, and to join the christian side. but his honor forbade him to do this while his former friends were in distress; and thus he waited for what time might bring forth, when he was startled by the announcement that he had been selected to uphold the cause of the saracens against the christians, and that his foe was to be rinaldo, the brother of bradamante. while rogero was overwhelmed with this intelligence bradamante on her side felt the deepest distress at hearing of the proposed combat. if rogero should fall she felt that no other man living was worthy of her love; and if, on the other hand, heaven should resolve to punish france by the death of her chosen champion, bradamante would have to deplore her brother, so dear to her, and be no less completely severed from the object of her affections. while the fair lady gave herself up to these sad thoughts, the sage enchantress, melissa, suddenly appeared before her. "fear not, my daughter," said she, "i shall find a way to interrupt this combat which so distresses you." meanwhile rinaldo and rogero prepared their weapons for the conflict. rinaldo had the choice, and decided that it should be on foot, and with no weapons but the battle-axe and poniard. the place assigned was a plain between the camp of charlemagne and the walls of arles. hardly had the dawn announced the day appointed for this memorable combat, when heralds proceeded from both sides to mark the lists. erelong the african troops were seen to advance from the city, agramant at their head; his brilliant arms adorned in the moorish fashion, his horse a bay, with a white star on his forehead. rogero marched at his side, and some of the greatest warriors of the saracen camp attended him, bearing the various parts of his armor and weapons. charlemagne, on his part, proceeded from his intrenchments, ranged his troops in semicircle, and stood surrounded by his peers and paladins. some of them bore portions of the armor of rinaldo, the celebrated ogier, the dane, bearing the helmet which rinaldo took from mambrino. duke namo of bavaria and salomon of bretagne bore two axes, of equal weight, prepared for the occasion. the terms of the combat were then sworn to with the utmost solemnity by all parties. it was agreed that if from either part any attempt was made to interrupt the battle both combatants should turn their arms against the party which should be guilty of the interruption; and both monarchs assented to the condition that in such case the champion of the offending party should be discharged from his allegiance, and at liberty to transfer his arms to the other side. when all the preparations were concluded the monarchs and their attendants retired each to his own side, and the champions were left alone. the two warriors advanced with measured steps towards each other, and met in the middle of the space. they attacked one another at the same moment, and the air resounded with the blows they gave. sparks flew from their battle-axes, while the velocity with which they managed their weapons astonished the beholders. rogero, always remembering that his antagonist was the brother of his betrothed, could not aim a deadly wound; he strove only to ward off those levelled against himself. rinaldo, on the other hand, much as he esteemed rogero, spared not his blows, for he eagerly desired victory for his own sake, and for the sake of his country and his faith. the saracens soon perceived that their champion fought feebly, and gave not to rinaldo such blows as he received from him. his disadvantage was so marked that anxiety and shame were manifest on the countenance of agramant. melissa, one of the most acute enchantresses that ever lived, seized this moment to disguise herself under the form of rodomont, that rude and impetuous warrior, who had now for some time been absent from the saracen camp. approaching agramant, she said, "how could you, my lord, have the imprudence of selecting a young man without experience to oppose the most redoubtable warrior of france? surely you must have been regardless of the honor of your arms, and of the fate of your empire! but it is not too late. break without delay the agreement which is sure to result in your ruin." so saying, she addressed the troops who stood near, "friends," said she, "follow me; under my guidance every one of you will be a match for a score of those feeble christians." agramant, delighted at seeing rodomont once more at his side, gave his consent, and the saracens, at the instant, couched their lances, set spurs to their steeds, and swept down upon the french. melissa, when she saw her work successful, disappeared. rinaldo and rogero, seeing the truce broken, and the two armies engaged in general conflict, stopped their battle; their martial fury ceased at once, they joined hands, and resolved to act no more on either side until it should be clearly ascertained which party had failed to observe its oath. both renewed their promise to abandon forever the party which had been thus false and perjured. meanwhile, the christians, after the first moment of surprise, met the saracens with courage redoubled by rage at the treachery of their foes. guido the wild, brother and rival of rinaldo, griffon and aquilant, sons of oliver, and numerous others whose names have already been celebrated in our recitals, beat back the assailants, and at last, after prodigious slaughter, forced them to take shelter within the walls of arles. we will now return to orlando, whom we last heard of as furiously mad, and doing a thousand acts of violence in his senseless rage. one day he came to the borders of a stream which intercepted his course. he swam across it, for he could swim like an otter, and on the other side saw a peasant watering his horse. he seized the animal, in spite of the resistance of the peasant, and rode it with furious speed till he arrived at the sea-coast, where spain is divided from africa by only a narrow strait. at the moment of his arrival a vessel had just put off to cross the strait. she was full of people who, with glass in hand, seemed to be taking a merry farewell of the land, wafted by a favorable breeze. the frantic orlando cried out to them to stop and take him in; but they, having no desire to admit a madman to their company, paid him no attention. the paladin thought this behavior very uncivil; and by force of blows made his horse carry him into the water in pursuit of the ship. the wretched animal soon had only his head above water; but as orlando urged him forward, nothing was left for the poor beast but either to die or swim over to africa. already orlando had lost sight of the bark; distance and the swell of the sea completely hid it from his sight. he continued to press his horse forward, till at last it could struggle no more, and sunk beneath him. orlando, nowise concerned, stretched out his nervous arms, puffing the salt water from before his mouth, and carried his head above the waves. fortunately they were not rough, scarce a breath of wind agitated the surface; otherwise, the invincible orlando would then have met his death. but fortune, which it is said favors fools, delivered him from this danger, and landed him safe on the shore of ceuta. here he rambled along the shore till he came to where the black army of astolpho held its camp. now it happened, just before this time, that a vessel filled with prisoners which rodomont had taken at the bridge had arrived, and, not knowing of the presence of the abyssinian army, had sailed right into port, where of course the prisoners and their captors changed places, the former being set at liberty and received with all joy, the latter sent to serve in the galleys. astolpho thus found himself surrounded with christian knights, and he and his friends were exchanging greetings and felicitations, when a noise was heard in the camp, and seemed to increase every moment. astolpho and his friends seized their weapons, mounted their horses, and rode to the quarter whence the noise proceeded. imagine their astonishment when they saw that the tumult was caused by a single man, perfectly naked, and browned with dirt and exposure, but of a force and fury so terrible that he overturned all that offered to lay hands on him. astolpho, dudon, oliver, and florimart gazed at him with amazement. it was with difficulty they knew him. astolpho, who had been warned of his condition by his holy monitor, was the first to recognize him. as the paladins closed round orlando, the madman dealt one and another a blow of his fist, which, if they had not been in armor, or he had had any weapon, would probably have despatched them; as it was, dudon and astolpho measured their length on the sand. but florimart seized him from behind, sansonnet and another grasped his legs, and at last they succeeded in securing him with ropes. they took him to the water-side and washed him well, and then astolpho, having first bandaged his mouth so that he could not breathe except through his nose, brought the precious phial, uncorked it, and placed it adroitly under his nostrils, when the good orlando took it all up in one breath. o marvellous prodigy! the paladin recovered in an instant all his intelligence. he felt like one who had awakened from a painful dream, in which he had believed that monsters were about to tear him to pieces. he seemed prostrated, silent, and abashed. florismart, oliver, and astolpho stood gazing upon him, while he turned his eyes around and on himself. he seemed surprised to find himself naked, bound, and stretched on the sea-shore. after a few moments he recognized his friends, and spoke to them in a tone so tender that they hastened to unbind him, and to supply him with garments. then they exerted themselves to console him, to diminish the weight with which his spirits were oppressed, and to make him forget the wretched condition into which he had been sunk. orlando, in recovering his reason, found himself also delivered from his insane attachment to the queen of cathay. his heart felt now no further influenced by the recollection of her than to be moved with an ardent desire to retrieve his fame by some distinguished exploit. astolpho would gladly have yielded to him the chief command of the army, but orlando would not take from the friend to whom he owed so much the glory of the campaign; but in everything the two paladins acted in concert, and united their counsels. they proposed to make a general assault on the city of biserta, and were only waiting a favorable moment, when their plan was interrupted by new events. agramant, after the bloody battle which followed the infraction of the truce, found himself so weak that he saw it was in vain to attempt to remain in france. so, in concert with sobrino, the bravest and most trusted of his chiefs, he embarked to return to his own country, having previously sent off his few remaining troops in the same direction. the vessel which carried agramant and sobrino approached the shore where the army of astolpho lay encamped before biserta, and having discovered this fact before it was too late, the king commanded the pilot to steer eastward, with a view to seek protection of the king of egypt. but the weather becoming rough, he consented to the advice of his companions, and sought harbor in an island which lies between sicily and africa. there he found gradasso, the warlike king of sericane, who had come to france to possess himself of the horse bayard and the sword durindana; and having procured both these prizes was returning to his own country. the two kings, who had been companions in arms under the walls of paris, embraced one another affectionately. gradasso learned with regret the reverses of agramant, and offered him his troops and his person. he strongly deprecated resorting to egypt for aid. "remember the great pompey," said he, "and shun that fatal shore. my plan," he continued, "is this: i mean to challenge orlando to single combat. possessed of such a sword and steed as mine, if he were made of steel or bronze, he could not escape me. he being removed, there will be no difficulty in driving back the abyssinians. we will rouse against them the moslem nations from the other side of the nile, the arabians, persians, and chaldeans, who will soon make senapus recall his army to defend his own territories." agramant approved this advice except in one particular. "it is for me," said he, "to combat orlando; i cannot with honor devolve that duty on another." "let us adopt a third course," said the aged warrior sobrino. "i would not willingly remain a simple spectator of such a contest. let us send three squires to the shore of africa to challenge orlando and any two of his companions in arms to meet us three in this island of lampedusa." this counsel was adopted; the three squires sped on their way; and now presented themselves, and rehearsed their message to the christian knights. orlando was delighted, and rewarded the squires with rich gifts. he had already resolved to seek gradasso and compel him to restore durindana, which he had learned was in his possession. for his two companions the count chose his faithful friend florismart and his cousin oliver. the three warriors embarked, and sailing with a favorable wind, the second morning showed them, on their right, the island where this important battle was to be fought. orlando and his two companions, having landed, pitched their tent. agramant had placed his opposite. next morning, as soon as aurora brightened the edges of the horizon, the warriors of both parties armed themselves and mounted their horses. they took their positions, face to face, lowered their lances, placed them in rest, clapped spurs to their horses, and flew to the charge. orlando met the charge of gradasso. the paladin was unmoved, but his horse could not sustain the terrible shock of bayard. he recoiled, staggered, and fell some paces behind. orlando tried to raise him, but, finding his efforts unavailing, seized his shield, and drew his famous balisardo. meanwhile agramant and the brave oliver gained no advantage, one or the other; but florismart unhorsed the king sobrino. having brought his foe to the ground, he would not pursue his victory, but hastened to attack gradasso, who had overthrown orlando. seeing him thus engaged, orlando would not interfere, but ran with sword upraised upon sobrino, and with one blow deprived him of sense and motion. believing him dead, he next turned to aid his beloved florismart. that brave paladin, neither in horse nor arms equal to his antagonist, could but parry and evade the blows of the terrible durindana. orlando, eager to succor him, was delayed for a moment in securing and mounting the horse of the king sobrino. it was but an instant, and with sword upraised, he rushed upon gradasso who, noways disconcerted at the onset of this second foe, shouted his defiance, and thrust at him with his sword, but, having miscalculated the distance, scarcely reached him, and failed to pierce his mail. orlando, in return, dealt him a blow with balisardo, which wounded as it fell face, breast, and thigh, and, if he had been a little nearer, would have cleft him in twain. sobrino, by this time recovered from his swoon, though severely wounded, raised himself on his legs, and looked to see how he might aid his friends. observing agramant hard pressed by oliver, he thrust his sword into the bowels of the latter's horse, which fell, and bore down his master, entangling his leg as he fell, so that oliver could not extricate himself. florismart saw the danger of his friend, and ran upon sobrino with his horse, overthrew him, and then turned to defend himself from agramant. they were not unequally matched, for though agramant, mounted on brigliadoro, had an advantage over florismart, whose horse was but indifferent, yet agramant had received a serious wound in his encounter with oliver. nothing could exceed the fury of the encounter between orlando and gradasso. durindana, in the hands of gradasso, clove asunder whatever it struck; but such was the skill of orlando, who perfectly knew the danger to which he was exposed from a stroke of that weapon, it had not yet struck him in such a way as to inflict a wound. meanwhile, gradasso was bleeding from many wounds, and his rage and incaution increased every moment. in his desperation he lifted durindana with both hands, and struck so terrible a blow full on the helmet of orlando, that for a moment it stunned the paladin. he dropped the reins, and his frightened horse scoured with him over the plain. gradasso turned to pursue him, but at that moment saw florismart in the very act of striking a fatal blow at agramant, whom he had unhorsed. while florismart was wholly intent upon completing his victory, gradasso plunged his sword into his side. florismart fell from his horse, and bathed the plain with his blood. orlando recovered himself just in time to see the deed. whether rage or grief predominated in his breast, i cannot tell; but, seizing balisardo with fury, his first blow fell upon agramant, who was nearest to him, and smote his head from his shoulders. at this sight gradasso for the first time felt his courage sink, and a dark presentiment of death came over him. he hardly stood on his defence when orlando cast himself upon him, and gave him a fatal thrust. the sword penetrated his ribs, and came out a palm's breadth on the other side of his body. thus fell beneath the sword of the most illustrious paladin of france the bravest warrior of the saracen host. orlando then, as if despising his victory, leaped lightly to the ground, and ran to his dear friend florismart, embraced him, and bathed him with his tears. florismart still breathed. he could even command his voice to utter a few parting words: "dear friend, do not forget me,--give me your prayers,--and oh! be a brother to flordelis." he died in uttering her name. after a few moments given to grief orlando turned to look for his other companion and his late foes. oliver lay oppressed with the weight of his horse, from which he had in vain struggled to liberate himself. orlando extricated him with difficulty; he then raised sobrino from the earth, and committed him to his squire, treating him as gently as if he had been his own brother. for this terrible warrior was the most generous of men to a fallen foe. he took bayard and brigliadoro, with the arms of the conquered knights; their bodies and their other spoils he remitted to their attendants. but who can tell the grief of flordelis when she saw the warriors return, and found not florismart as usual after absence hasten to her side. she knew by the aspect of the others that her lord was slain. at the thought, and before the question could pass her lips, she fell senseless upon the ground. when life returned, and she learned the truth of her worst fears, she bitterly upbraided herself that she had let him depart without her. "i might have saved him by a single cry when his enemy dealt him that treacherous blow, or i might have thrown myself between and given my worthless life for his. or if no more, i might have heard his last words, i might have given him a last kiss." so she lamented, and could not be comforted. rogero and bradamante after the interruption of the combat with rinaldo, as we have related, rogero was perplexed with doubts what course to take. the terms of the treaty required him to abandon agramant, who had broken it, and to transfer his allegiance to charlemagne; and his love for bradamante called him in the same direction; but unwillingness to desert his prince and leader in the hour of distress forbade this course. embarking, therefore, for africa, he took his way to rejoin the saracen army; but was arrested midway by a storm which drove the vessel on a rock. the crew took to their boat, but that was quickly swamped in the waves, and rogero with the rest were compelled to swim for their lives. then while buffeting the waves rogero bethought him of his sin in so long delaying his christian profession, and vowed in his heart that, if he should live to reach the land, he would no longer delay to be baptized. his vows were heard and answered; he succeeded in reaching the shore, and was aided and relieved on landing by a pious hermit, whose cell overlooked the sea. from him he received baptism, having first passed some days with him, partaking his humble fare, and receiving instruction in the doctrines of the christian faith. while these things were going on, rinaldo, who had set out on his way to seek gradasso and recover bayard from him, hearing on his way of the great things which were doing in africa, repaired thither to bear his part in them. he arrived too late to do more than join his friends in lamenting the loss of florismart, and to rejoice with them in their victory over the pagan knights. on the death of their king the africans gave up the contest, biserta submitted, and the christian knights had only to dismiss their forces, and return home. astolpho took leave of his abyssinian army, and sent them back laden with spoil to their own country, not forgetting to intrust to them the bag which held the winds, by means of which they were enabled to cross the sandy desert again without danger, and did not untie it till they reached their own country. orlando now, with oliver, who much needed the surgeon's care, and sobrino, to whom equal attention was shown, sailed in a swift vessel to sicily, bearing with him the body of florismart, to be laid in christian earth. rinaldo accompanied them, as did sansonnet and the other christian leaders. arrived at sicily, the funeral was solemnized with all the rites of religion, and with the profound grief of those who had known florismart, or had heard of his fame. then they resumed their course, steering for marseilles. but oliver's wound grew worse instead of better, and his sufferings so distressed his friends that they conferred together, not knowing what to do. then said the pilot, "we are not far from an isle where a holy hermit dwells alone in the midst of the sea. it is said none seek his counsel or his aid in vain. he hath wrought marvellous cures, and if you resort to that holy man without doubt he can heal the knight." orlando bade him steer thither, and soon the bark was laid safely beside the lonely rock; the wounded man was lowered into their boat, and carried by the crew to the hermit's cell. it was the same hermit with whom rogero had taken refuge after his shipwreck, by whom he had been baptized, and with whom he was now staying, absorbed in sacred studies and meditations. the holy man received orlando and the rest with kindness, and inquired their errand; and being told that they had come for help for one who, warring for the christian faith, was brought to perilous pass by a sad wound, he straightway undertook the cure. his applications were simple, but they were seconded by his prayers. the paladin was soon relieved from pain, and in a few days his foot was perfectly restored to soundness. sobrino, as soon as he perceived the holy monk perform that wonder, cast aside his false prophet, and with contrite heart owned the true god, and demanded baptism at his hands. the hermit granted his request, and also by his prayers restored him to health, while all the christian knights rejoiced in his conversion almost as much as at the restoration of oliver. more than all rogero felt joy and gratitude, and daily grew in grace and faith. rogero was known by fame to all the christian knights, but not even rinaldo knew him by sight, though he had proved his prowess in combat. sobrino made him known to them, and great was the joy of all when they found one whose valor and courtesy were renowned through the world no longer an enemy and unbeliever, but a convert and champion of the true faith. all press about the knight; one grasps his hand, another locks him fast in his embrace; but more than all the rest, rinaldo cherished him, for he more than any knew his worth. it was not long before rogero confided to his friend the hopes he entertained of a union with his sister, and rinaldo frankly gave his sanction to the proposal. but causes unknown to the paladin were at that very time interposing obstacles to its success. the fame of the beauty and worth of bradamante had reached the ears of the grecian emperor, constantine, and he had sent to charlemagne to demand the hand of his niece for leo, his son, and the heir to his dominions. duke aymon, her father, had only reserved his consent until he should first have spoken with his son rinaldo, now absent. the warriors now prepared to resume their voyage. rogero took a tender farewell of the good hermit who had taught him the true faith. orlando restored to him the horse and arms which were rightly his, not even asserting his claim to balisarda, that sword which he himself had won from the enchantress. the hermit gave his blessing to the band, and they reembarked. the passage was speedy, and very soon they arrived in the harbor of marseilles. astolpho, when he had dismissed his troops, mounted the hippogriff, and at one flight shot over to sardinia, thence to corsica, thence, turning slightly to the left, hovered over provence, and alighted in the neighborhood of marseilles. there he did what he had been commanded to do by the holy saint; he unbridled the hippogriff, and turned him loose to seek his own retreats, never more to be galled with saddle or bit. the horn had lost its marvellous power ever since the visit to the moon. astolpho reached marseilles the very day when orlando, rinaldo, oliver, sobrino, and rogero arrived there. charles had already heard the news of the defeat of the saracen kings, and all the accompanying events. on learning the approach of the gallant knights, he sent forward some of his most illustrious nobles to receive them, and himself, with the rest of his court, kings, dukes, and peers, the queen, and a fair and gorgeous band of ladies, set forward from arles to meet them. no sooner were the mutual greetings interchanged, than orlando and his friends led forward rogero, and presented him to the emperor. they vouch him son of rogero, duke of risa, one of the most renowned of christian warriors, by adverse fortune stolen in his infancy, and brought up by saracens in the false faith, now by a kind providence converted, and restored to fill the place his father once held among the foremost champions of the throne and church. rogero had alighted from his horse, and stood respectfully before the emperor. charlemagne bade him remount and ride beside him; and omitted nothing which might do him honor in sight of his martial train. with pomp triumphal and with festive cheer the troop returned to the city; the streets were decorated with garlands, the houses hung with rich tapestry, and flowers fell like rain upon the conquering host from the hands of fair dames and damsels, from every balcony and window. so welcomed, the mighty emperor passed on till he reached the royal palace, where many days he feasted, high in hall, with his lords, amid tourney, revel, dance, and song. when rinaldo told his father, duke aymon, how he had promised his sister to rogero, his father heard him with indignation, having set his heart on seeing her united to the grecian emperor's son. the lady beatrice, her mother, also appealed to bradamante herself to reject a knight who had neither title nor lands, and give the preference to one who would make her empress of the wide levant. but bradamante, though respect forbade her to refuse her mother's entreaty, would not promise to do what her heart repelled, and answered only with a sigh, until she was alone, and then gave a loose to tears. meanwhile rogero, indignant that a stranger should presume to rob him of his bride, determined to seek the prince of greece, and defy him to mortal combat. with this design he donned his armor, but exchanged his crest and emblazonment, and bore instead a white unicorn upon a crimson field. he chose a trusty squire, and, commanding him not to address him as rogero, rode on his quest. having crossed the rhine and the austrian countries into hungary, he followed the course of the danube till he reached belgrade. there he saw the imperial ensigns spread, and white pavilions, thronged with troops, before the town. for the emperor constantine was laying siege to the city to recover it from the bulgarians, who had taken it from him not long before. a river flowed between the camp of the emperor and the bulgarians, and at the moment when rogero approached, a skirmish had begun between the parties from either camp, who had approached the stream for the purpose of watering. the greeks in that affray were four to one, and drove back the bulgarians in precipitate rout. rogero, seeing this, and animated only by his hatred of the grecian prince, dashed into the middle of the flying mass, calling aloud on the fugitives to turn. he encountered first a leader of the grecian host in splendid armor, a nephew of the emperor, as dear to him as a son. rogero's lance pierced shield and armor, and stretched the warrior breathless on the plain. another and another fell before him, and astonishment and terror arrested the advance of the greeks, while the bulgarians, catching courage from the cavalier, rally, change front, and chase the grecian troops, who fly in their turn. leo, the prince, was at a distance when this sudden skirmish rose, but not so far but that he could see distinctly, from an elevated position which he held, how the changed battle was all the work of one man, and could not choose but admire the bravery and prowess with which it was done. he knew by the blazonry displayed that the champion was not of the bulgarian army, though he furnished aid to them. although he suffered by his valor, the prince could not wish him ill, for his admiration surpassed his resentment. by this time the greeks had regained the river, and crossing it by fording or swimming, some made their escape, leaving many more prisoners in the hands of the bulgarians. rogero, learning from some of the captives that leo was at a point some distance down the river, rode thither with a view to meet him, but arrived not before the greek prince had retired beyond the stream, and broken up the bridge. day was spent, and rogero, wearied, looked round for a shelter for the night. he found it in a cottage, where he soon yielded himself to repose. it so happened, a knight who had narrowly escaped rogero's sword in the late battle also found shelter in the same cottage, and, recognizing the armor of the unknown knight, easily found means of securing him as he slept, and next morning carried him in chains and delivered him to the emperor. by him he was in turn delivered to his sister theodora, mother of the young knight, the first victim of rogero's spear. by her he was cast into a dungeon, till her ingenuity could devise a death sufficiently painful to satiate her revenge. bradamante, meanwhile, to escape her father's and mother's importunity, had begged a boon of charlemagne, which the monarch pledged his royal word to grant; it was that she should not be compelled to marry any one unless he should first vanquish her in single combat. the emperor therefore proclaimed a tournament in these words: "he that would wed duke aymon's daughter must contend with the sword against that dame, from the sun's rise to his setting; and if, in that time, he is not overcome the lady shall be his." duke aymon and the lady beatrice, though much incensed at the course things had taken, brought their daughter to court, to await the day appointed for the tournament. bradamante, not finding there him whom her heart required, distressed herself with doubts what could be the cause of his absence. of all fancies, the most painful one was that he had gone away to learn to forget her, knowing her father's and her mother's opposition to their union, and despairing to contend against them. but oh, how much worse would be the maiden's woe, if it were known to her what her betrothed was then enduring! he was plunged in a dungeon where no ray of daylight ever penetrated, loaded with chains, and scantily supplied with the coarsest food. no wonder despair took possession of his heart, and he longed for death as a relief, when one night (or one day, for both were equally dark to him) he was roused with the glare of a torch and saw two men enter his cell. it was the prince leo, with an attendant, who had come as soon as he had learned the wretched fate of the brave knight whose valor he had seen and admired on the field of battle. "cavalier," said he, "i am one whom thy valor hath so bound to thee, that i willingly peril my own safety to lend thee aid." "infinite thanks i owe you," replied rogero, "and the life you give me i promise faithfully to render back upon your call, and promptly to stake it at all times for your service." the prince then told rogero his name and rank, at hearing which a tide of contending emotions almost overwhelmed rogero. he was set at liberty, and had his horse and arms restored to him. meanwhile, tidings arrived of king charles' decree that whoever aspired to the hand of bradamante must first encounter her with sword and lance. this news made the grecian prince turn pale, for he knew he was no match for her in fight. communing with himself, he sees how he may make his wit supply the place of valor, and employ the french knight, whose name was still unknown to him, to fight the battle for him. rogero heard the proposal with extreme distress; yet it seemed worse than death to deny the first request of one to whom he owed his life. hastily he gave his assent "to do in all things that which leo should command." afterward, bitter repentance came over him; yet, rather than confess his change of mind, death itself would be welcome. death seems his only remedy; but how to die? sometimes he thinks to make none but a feigned resistance, and allow her sword a ready access, for never can death come more happily than if her hand guide the weapon. yet this will not avail, for, unless he wins the maid for the greek prince, his debt remains unpaid. he had promised to maintain a real, not a feigned encounter. he will then keep his word, and banish every thought from his bosom except that which moved him to maintain his truth. the young prince, richly attended, set out, and with him rogero. they arrived at paris, but leo preferred not to enter the city, and pitched his tents without the walls, making known his arrival to charlemagne by an embassy. the monarch was pleased, and testified his courtesy by visits and gifts. the prince set forth the purpose of his coming, and prayed the emperor to dispatch his suit--"to send forth the damsel who refused ever to take in wedlock any lord inferior to herself in fight; for she should be his bride, or he would perish beneath her sword." rogero passed the night before the day assigned for the battle like that which the felon spends, condemned to pay the forfeit of his life on the ensuing day. he chose to fight with sword only, and on foot, for he would not let her see frontino, knowing that she would recognize the steed. nor would he use balisarda, for against that enchanted blade all armor would be of no avail, and the sword that he did take he hammered well upon the edge to abate its sharpness. he wore the surcoat of prince leo, and his shield, emblazoned with a golden, double-headed eagle. the prince took care to let himself be seen by none. bradamante, meanwhile, prepared herself for the combat far differently. instead of blunting the edge of her falchion she whets the steel, and would fain infuse into it her own acerbity. as the moment approached she seemed to have fire within her veins, and waited impatiently for the trumpet's sound. at the signal she drew her sword, and fell with fury upon her rogero. but as a well-built wall or aged rock stands unmoved the fury of the storm, so rogero, clad in those arms which trojan hector once wore, withstood the strokes which stormed about his head and breast and flank. sparks flew from his shield, his helm, his cuirass; from direct and back strokes, aimed now high, now low, falling thick and fast, like hailstones on a cottage roof; but rogero, with skilful ward, turns them aside, or receives them where his armor is a sure protection, careful only to protect himself, and with no thought of striking in return. thus the hours passed away, and, as the sun approached the west, the damsel began to despair. but so much the more her anger increases, and she redoubles her efforts, like the craftsman who sees his work unfinished while the day is wellnigh spent. o miserable damsel! didst thou know whom thou wouldst kill,--if, in that cavalier matched against thee thou didst but know rogero, on whom thy very life-threads hang, rather than kill him thou wouldst kill thyself, for he is dearer to thee than life. king charles and the peers, who thought the cavalier to be the grecian prince, viewing such force and skill exhibited, and how without assaulting her the knight defended himself, were filled with admiration, and declared the champions well matched, and worthy of each other. when the sun was set charlemagne gave the signal for terminating the contest, and bradamante was awarded to prince leo as a bride. rogero, in deep distress, returned to his tent. there leo unlaced his helmet, and kissed him on both cheeks. "henceforth," said he, "do with me as you please, for you cannot exhaust my gratitude." rogero replied little, laid aside the ensigns he had worn, and resumed the unicorn, then hasted to withdraw himself from all eyes. when it was midnight he rose, saddled frontino, and sallied from his tent, taking that direction which pleased his steed. all night he rode absorbed in bitter woe, and called on death as alone capable of relieving his sufferings. at last he entered a forest, and penetrated into its deepest recesses. there he unharnessed frontino, and suffered him to wander where he would. then he threw himself down on the ground, and poured forth such bitter wailings that the birds and beasts, for none else heard him, were moved to pity with his cries. not less was the distress of the lady bradamante, who, rather than wed any one but rogero, resolved to break her word, and defy kindred, court, and charlemagne himself; and, if nothing else would do, to die. but relief came from an unexpected quarter. marphisa, sister of rogero, was a heroine of warlike prowess equal to bradamante. she had been the confidante of their loves, and felt hardly less distress than themselves at seeing the perils which threatened their union. "they are already united by mutual vows," she said, "and in the sight of heaven what more is necessary?" full of this thought she presented herself before charlemagne, and declared that she herself was witness that the maiden had spoken to rogero those words which they who marry swear; and that the compact was so sealed between the pair that they were no longer free, nor could forsake the one the other to take another spouse. this her assertion she offered to prove, in single combat, against prince leo, or any one else. charlemagne, sadly perplexed at this, commanded bradamante to be called, and told her what the bold marphisa had declared. bradamante neither denied nor confirmed the statement, but hung her head, and kept silence. duke aymon was enraged, and would fain have set aside the pretended contract on the ground that, if made at all, it must have been made before rogero was baptized, and therefore void. but not so thought rinaldo, nor the good orlando, and charlemagne knew not which way to decide, when marphisa spoke thus: "since no one else can marry the maiden while my brother lives, let the prince meet rogero in mortal combat, and let him who survives take her for his bride." this saying pleased the emperor, and was accepted by the prince, for he thought that, by the aid of his unknown champion, he should surely triumph in the fight. proclamation was therefore made for rogero to appear and defend his suit; and leo, on his part, caused search to be made on all sides for the knight of the unicorn. meanwhile rogero, overwhelmed with despair, lay stretched on the ground in the forest night and day without food, courting death. here he was discovered by one of leo's people, who, finding him resist all attempts to remove him, hastened to his master, who was not far off, and brought him to the spot. as he approached he heard words which convinced him that love was the cause of the knight's despair; but no clew was given to guide him to the object of that love. stooping down, the prince embraced the weeping warrior, and, in the tenderest accents, said: "spare not, i entreat you, to disclose the cause of your distress, for few such desperate evils betide mankind as are wholly past cure. it grieves me much that you would hide your grief from me, for i am bound to you by ties that nothing can undo. tell me, then, your grief, and leave me to try if wealth, art, cunning, force, or persuasion cannot relieve you. if not, it will be time enough after all has been tried in vain to die." he spoke in such moving accents that rogero could not choose but yield. it was some time before he could command utterance; at last he said, "my lord, when you shall know me for what i am, i doubt not you, like myself, will be content that i should die. know, then, i am that rogero whom you have so much cause to hate, and who so hated you that, intent on putting you to death, he went to seek you at your father's court. this i did because i could not submit to see my promised bride borne off by you. but, as man proposes and god disposes, your great courtesy, well tried in time of sore need, so moved my fixed resolve, that i not only laid aside the hate i bore, but purposed to be your friend forever. you then asked of me to win for you the lady bradamante, which was all one as to demand of me my heart and soul. you know whether i served you faithfully or not. yours is the lady; possess her in peace; but ask me not to live to see it. be content rather that i die; for vows have passed between myself and her which forbid that while i live she can lawfully wive with another." so filled was gentle leo with astonishment at these words that for a while he stood silent, with lips unmoved and steadfast gaze, like a statue. and the discovery that the stranger was rogero not only abated not the good will he bore him, but increased it, so that his distress for what rogero suffered seemed equal to his own. for this, and because he would appear deservedly an emperor's son, and, though in other things outdone, would not be surpassed in courtesy, he says: "rogero, had i known that day when your matchless valor routed my troops that you were rogero, your virtue would have made me your own, as then it made me while i knew not my foe, and i should have no less gladly rescued you from theodora's dungeon. and if i would willingly have done so then, how much more gladly will i now restore the gift of which you would rob yourself to confer it upon me. the damsel is more due to you than to me, and though i know her worth, i would forego not only her, but life itself, rather than distress a knight like you." this and much more he said to the same intent; till at last rogero replied, "i yield, and am content to live, and thus a second time owe my life to you." but several days elapsed before rogero was so far restored as to return to the royal residence, where an embassy had arrived from the bulgarian princes to seek the knight of the unicorn, and tender to him the crown of that country, in place of their king, fallen in battle. thus were things situated when prince leo, leading by the hand rogero, clad in the battered armor in which he had sustained the conflict with bradamante, presented himself before the king. "behold," he said "the champion who maintained from dawn to setting sun the arduous contest; he comes to claim the guerdon of the fight." king charlemagne, with all his peerage, stood amazed; for all believed that the grecian prince himself had fought with bradamante. then stepped forth marphisa, and said, "since rogero is not here to assert his rights, i, his sister, undertake his cause, and will maintain it against whoever shall dare dispute his claim." she said this with so much anger and disdain that the prince deemed it no longer wise to feign, and withdrew rogero's helmet from his brow, saying, "behold him here!" who can describe the astonishment and joy of marphisa! she ran and threw her arms about her brother's neck, nor would give way to let charlemagne and rinaldo, orlando, dudon, and the rest, who crowded round, embrace him, and press friendly kisses on his brow. the joyful tidings flew fast by many a messenger to bradamante, who in her secret chamber lay lamenting. the blood that stagnated about her heart flowed at that notice so fast, that she had wellnigh died for joy. duke aymon and the lady beatrice no longer withheld their consent, and pledged their daughter to the brave rogero before all that gallant company. now came the bulgarian ambassadors, and, kneeling at the feet of rogero, besought him to return with them to their country, where, in adrianople, the crown and sceptre were awaiting his acceptance. prince leo united his persuasions to theirs, and promised, in his royal father's name, that peace should be restored on their part. rogero gave his consent, and it was surmised that none of the virtues which shone so conspicuously in him so availed to recommend rogero to the lady beatrice as the hearing her future son-in-law saluted as a sovereign prince. the battle of roncesvalles after the expulsion of the saracens from france charlemagne led his army into spain, to punish marsilius, the king of that country, for having sided with the african saracens in the late war. charlemagne succeeded in all his attempts, and compelled marsilius to submit, and pay tribute to france. our readers will remember gano, otherwise called gan, or ganelon, whom we mentioned in one of our early chapters as an old courtier of charlemagne, and a deadly enemy of orlando, rinaldo, and all their friends. he had great influence over charles, from equality of age and long intimacy; and he was not without good qualities: he was brave and sagacious, but envious, false, and treacherous. gan prevailed on charles to send him as ambassador to marsilius, to arrange the tribute. he embraced orlando over and over again at taking leave, using such pains to seem loving and sincere, that his hypocrisy was manifest to every one but the old monarch. he fastened with equal tenderness on oliver, who smiled contemptuously in his face, and thought to himself, "you may make as many fair speeches as you choose, but you lie." all the other paladins who were present thought the same, and they said as much to the emperor, adding that gan should on no account be sent ambassador to the spaniards. but charles was infatuated. gan was received with great honor by marsilius. the king, attended by his lords, came fifteen miles out of saragossa to meet him, and then conducted him into the city with acclamations. there was nothing for several days but balls, games, and exhibitions of chivalry, the ladies throwing flowers on the heads of the french knights, and the people shouting, "france! mountjoy and st. denis!" after the ceremonies of the first reception the king and the ambassador began to understand one another. one day they sat together in a garden on the border of a fountain. the water was so clear and smooth it reflected every object around, and the spot was encircled with fruit-trees which quivered with the fresh air. as they sat and talked, as if without restraint, gan, without looking the king in the face, was enabled to see the expression of his countenance in the water, and governed his speech accordingly. marsilius was equally adroit, and watched the face of gan while he addressed him. marsilius began by lamenting, not as to the ambassador, but as to the friend, the injuries which charles had done him by invading his dominions, charging him with wishing to take his kingdom from him and give it to orlando; till at length he plainly uttered his belief that if that ambitious paladin were but dead good men would get their rights. gan heaved a sigh, as if he was unwillingly compelled to allow the force of what the king said; but unable to contain himself long he lifted up his face, radiant with triumphant wickedness, and exclaimed: "every word you utter is truth; die he must, and die also must oliver, who struck me that foul blow at court. is it treachery to punish affronts like these? i have planned everything,--i have settled everything already with their besotted master. orlando will come to your borders--to roncesvalles--for the purpose of receiving the tribute. charles will await him at the foot of the mountains. orlando will bring but a small band with him: you, when you meet him, will have secretly your whole army at your back. you surround him, and who receives tribute then?" the new judas had scarcely uttered these words when his exultation was interrupted by a change in the face of nature. the sky was suddenly overcast, there was thunder and lightning, a laurel was split in two from head to foot, and the carob-tree under which gan was sitting, which is said to be the species of tree on which judas iscariot hung himself, dropped one of its pods on his head. marsilius, as well as gan, was appalled at this omen; but on assembling his soothsayers they came to the conclusion that the laurel-tree turned the omen against the emperor, the successor of the caesars, though one of them renewed the consternation of gan by saying that he did not understand the meaning of the tree of judas, and intimating that perhaps the ambassador could explain it. gan relieved his vexation by anger; the habit of wickedness prevailed over all other considerations; and the king prepared to march to roncesvalles at the head of all his forces. gan wrote to charlemagne to say how humbly and submissively marsilius was coming to pay the tribute into the hands of orlando, and how handsome it would be of the emperor to meet him half-way, and so be ready to receive him after the payment at his camp. he added a brilliant account of the tribute, and the accompanying presents. the good emperor wrote in turn to say how pleased he was with the ambassador's diligence, and that matters were arranged precisely as he wished. his court, however, had its suspicion still, though they little thought gan's object in bringing charles into the neighborhood of roncesvalles was to deliver him into the hands of marsilius, after orlando should have been destroyed by him. orlando, however, did as his lord and sovereign desired. he went to roncesvalles, accompanied by a moderate train of warriors, not dreaming of the atrocity that awaited him. gan, meanwhile, had hastened back to france, in order to show himself free and easy in the presence of charles, and secure the success of his plot; while marsilius, to make assurance doubly sure, brought into the passes of roncesvalles no less than three armies, which were successively to fall on the paladin in case of the worst, and so extinguish him with numbers. he had also, by gan's advice, brought heaps of wine and good cheer to be set before his victims in the first instance; "for that," said the traitor, "will render the onset the more effective, the feasters being unarmed. one thing, however, i must not forget," added he; "my son baldwin is sure to be with orlando; you must take care of his life for my sake." "i give him this vesture off my own body," said the king; "let him wear it in the battle, and have no fear. my soldiers shall be directed not to touch him." gan went away rejoicing to france. he embraced the sovereign and the court all round with the air of a man who had brought them nothing but blessings, and the old king wept for very tenderness and delight. "something is going on wrong, and looks very black," thought malagigi, the good wizard; "rinaldo is not here, and it is indispensably necessary that he should be. i must find out where he is, and ricciardetto too, and send for them with all speed." malagigi called up by his art a wise, terrible, and cruel spirit, named ashtaroth. "tell me, and tell me truly, of rinaldo," said malagigi to the spirit. the demon looked hard at the paladin, and said nothing. his aspect was clouded and violent. the enchanter, with an aspect still cloudier, bade ashtaroth lay down that look, and made signs as if he would resort to angrier compulsion; and the devil, alarmed, loosened his tongue, and said, "you have not told me what you desire to know of rinaldo." "i desire to know what he has been doing, and where he is." "he has been conquering and baptizing the world, east and west," said the demon, "and is now in egypt with ricciardetto." "and what has gan been plotting with marsilius?" inquired malagigi; "and what is to come of it?" "i know not," said the devil. "i was not attending to gan at the time, and we fallen spirits know not the future. all i discern is that by the signs and comets in the heavens something dreadful is about to happen--something very strange, treacherous, and bloody; and that gan has a seat ready prepared for him in hell." "within three days," cried the enchanter, loudly, "bring rinaldo and ricciardetto into the pass of ronces-valles. do it, and i hereby undertake to summon thee no more." "suppose they will not trust themselves with me?" said the spirit. "enter rinaldo's horse, and bring him, whether he trust thee or not." "it shall be done," returned the demon. there was an earthquake, and ashtaroth disappeared. marsilius now made his first movement towards the destruction of orlando, by sending before him his vassal, king blanchardin, with his presents of wines and other luxuries. the temperate but courteous hero took them in good part, and distributed them as the traitor wished; and then blanchardin, on pretence of going forward to salute charlemagne, returned, and put himself at the head of the second army, which was the post assigned him by his liege-lord. king falseron, whose son orlando had slain in battle, headed the first army, and king balugante the third. marsilius made a speech to them, in which he let them into his design, and concluded by recommending to their good will the son of his friend gan, whom they would know by the vest he had sent him, and who was the only soul amongst the christian they were to spare. this son of gan, meanwhile, and several of the paladins, who distrusted the misbelievers, and were anxious at all events to be with orlando, had joined the hero in the fatal valley; so that the little christian host, considering the tremendous valor of their lord and his friends, were not to be sold for nothing. rinaldo, alas! the second thunderbolt of christendom, was destined not to be there in time to meet the issue. the paladins in vain begged orlando to be on his guard against treachery, and send for a more numerous body of men. the great heart of the champion of the faith was unwilling to harbor suspicion as long as he could help it. he refused to summon aid which might be superfluous; neither would he do anything but what his liege-lord had directed. and yet he could not wholly repress a misgiving. a shadow had fallen on his heart, great and cheerful as it was. the anticipations of his friends disturbed him, in spite of the face with which he met them. perhaps by a certain foresight he felt his death approaching; but he felt bound not to encourage the impression. besides, time pressed; the moment of the looked-for tribute was at hand, and little combinations of circumstances determine often the greatest events. king marsilius was to arrive early next day with the tribute, and oliver, with the morning sun, rode forth to reconnoitre, and see if he could discover the peaceful pomp of the spanish court in the distance. he rode up the nearest height, and from the top of it beheld the first army of marsilius already forming in the passes. "o devil gan," he exclaimed, "this then is the consummation of thy labors!" oliver put spurs to his horse, and galloped back down the mountain to orlando. "well," cried the hero, "what news?" "bad news," said his cousin, "such as you would not hear of yesterday. marsilius is here in arms, and all the world is with him." the paladins pressed round orlando, and entreated him to sound his horn, in token that he needed help. his only answer was to mount his horse, and ride up the mountain with sansonetto. as soon, however, as he cast forth his eyes, and beheld what was round about him, he turned in sorrow, and looked down into roncesvalles, and said, "o miserable valley! the blood shed in thee this day will color thy name forever." orlando's little camp were furious against the saracens. they armed themselves with the greatest impatience. there was nothing but lacing of helmets and mounting of horses, while good archbishop turpin went from rank to rank exhorting and encouraging the warriors of christ. orlando and his captains withdrew for a moment to consultation. he fairly groaned for sorrow, and at first had not a word to say, so wretched he felt at having brought his people to die in roncesvalles. then he said: "if it had entered into my heart to conceive the king of spain to be such a villain never would you have seen this day. he has exchanged with me a thousand courtesies and good words; and i thought that the worse enemies we had been before, the better friends we had become now. i fancied every human being capable of this kind of virtue on a good opportunity, saving, indeed, such base-hearted wretches as can never forgive their very forgivers; and of these i did not suppose him to be one. let us die, if die we must, like honest and gallant men, so that it shall be said of us it was only our bodies that died. the reason why i did not sound the horn was partly because i thought it did not become us, and partly because our liege lord could hardly save us, even if he heard it." and with these words orlando sprang to his horse, crying, "aways against the saracens!" but he had no sooner turned his face than he wept bitterly, and said, "o holy virgin, think not of me, the sinner orlando, but have pity on these thy servants!" and now with a mighty dust, and an infinite sound of horns and tambours, which came filling the valley, the first army of the infidels made its appearance, horses neighing, and a thousand pennons flying in the air. king falseron led them on, saying to his officers: "let nobody dare to lay a finger on orlando. he belongs to myself. the revenge of my son's death is mine. i will cut the man down that comes between us." "now, friends," said orlando, "every man for himself, and st. michael for us all! there is not one here that is not a perfect knight." and he might well say it, for the flower of all france was there, except rinaldo and ricciardetto--every man a picked man, all friends and constant companions of orlando. so the captains of the little troop and of the great army sat looking at one another, and singling one another out as the latter came on, and then the knights put spear in rest, and ran for a while two and two in succession, one against the other. astolpho was the first to move. he ran against arlotto of sorio, and thrust his antagonist's body out of the saddle, and his soul into the other world. oliver encountered malprimo, and, though he received a thrust which hurt him, sent his lance right through the heart of malprimo. falseron was daunted at this blow. "truly," thought he, "this is a marvel." oliver did not press on among the saracens, his wound was too painful; but orlando now put himself and his whole band in motion, and you may guess what an uproar ensued. the sound of the rattling of blows and helmets was as if the forge of vulcan had been thrown open. falseron beheld orlando coming so furiously, that he thought him a lucifer who had burst his chain, and was quite of another mind than when he purposed to have him all to himself. on the contrary, he recommended himself to his gods, and turned away, meaning to wait for a more auspicious season of revenge. but orlando hailed him with a terrible voice, saying, "o thou traitor! was this the end to which old quarrels were made up?" then he dashed at falseron with a fury so swift, and at the same time with a mastery of his lance so marvellous, that, though he plunged it in the man's body so as instantly to kill him, and then withdrew it, the body did not move in the saddle. the hero himself, as he rushed onwards, was fain to see the end of a stroke so perfect, and turning his horse back, touched the carcass with his sword, and it fell on the instant! when the infidels beheld their leader dead such fear fell upon them that they were for leaving the field to the paladins, but they were unable. marsilius had drawn the rest of his forces round the valley like a net, so that their shoulders were turned in vain. orlando rode into the thick of them, and wherever he went thunderbolts fell upon helmets. oliver was again in the fray, with walter and baldwin, avino and avolio, while arch-bishop turpin had changed his crosier for a lance, and chased a new flock before him to the mountains. yet what could be done against foes without number? marsilius constantly pours them in. the paladins are as units to thousands. why tarry the horses of rinaldo and ricciardetto? the horses did not tarry, but fate had been quicker than enchantment. ashtaroth had presented himself to rinaldo in egypt, and, after telling his errand, he and foul-mouth, his servant, entered the horses of rinaldo and ricciardetto, which began to neigh, and snort, and leap with the fiends within them, till off they flew through the air over the pyramids and across the desert, and reached spain and the scene of action just as marsilius brought up his third army. the two paladins on their horses dropped right into the midst of the saracens, and began making such havoc among them that marsilius, who overlooked the fight from a mountain, thought his soldiers had turned against one another. orlando beheld it, and guessed it could be no other but his cousins, and pressed to meet them. oliver coming up at the same moment, the rapture of the whole party is not to be expressed. after a few hasty words of explanation they were forced to turn again upon the enemy, whose numbers seemed perfectly without limit. orlando, making a bloody passage towards marsilius, struck a youth on the head, whose helmet was so strong as to resist the blow, but at the same time flew off, orlando prepared to strike a second blow, when the youth exclaimed, "hold! you loved my father; i am bujaforte!" the paladin had never seen bujaforte, but he saw the likeness to the good old man, his father, and he dropped his sword. "o bujaforte," said he, "i loved him indeed; but what does his son do here fighting against his friends?" bujaforte could not at once speak for weeping. at length he said: "i am forced to be here by my lord and master, marsilius; and i have made a show of fighting, but have not hurt a single christian. treachery is on every side of you. baldwin himself has a vest given him by marsilius, that everybody may know the son of his friend gan, and do him no harm." "put your helmet on again," said orlando, "and behave just as you have done. never will your father's friend be an enemy to the son." the hero then turned in fury to look for baldwin, who was hastening towards him at that moment, with friendliness in his looks. "'tis strange," said baldwin, "i have done my duty as well as i could, yet nobody will come against me. i have slain right and left, and cannot comprehend what it is that makes the stoutest infidels avoid me." "take off your vest," said orlando, contemptuously, "and you will soon discover the secret, if you wish to know it. your father has sold us to marsilius, all but his honorable son." "if my father," said baldwin, impetuously tearing off the vest, "has been such a villain, and i escape dying, i will plunge this sword through his heart. but i am no traitor, orlando, and you do me wrong to say it. think not i can live with dishonor." baldwin spurred off into the fight, not waiting to hear another word from orlando, who was very sorry for what he had said, for he perceived that the youth was in despair. and now the fight raged beyond all it had done before; twenty pagans went down for one paladin, but still the paladins fell. sansonetto was beaten to earth by the club of grandonio, walter d'amulion had his shoulder broken, berlinghieri and ottone were slain, and at last astolpho fell, in revenge of whose death orlando turned the spot where he died into a lake of saracen blood. the luckless bujaforte met rinaldo, and before he could explain how he seemed to be fighting on the saracen side received such a blow upon the head that he fell, unable to utter a word. orlando, cutting his way to a spot where there was a great struggle and uproar, found the poor youth baldwin, the son of gan, with two spears in his breast. "i am no traitor now," said baldwin, and those were the last words he said. orlando was bitterly sorry to have been the cause of his death, and tears streamed from his eyes. at length down went oliver himself. he had become blinded with his own blood, and smitten orlando without knowing him. "how now, cousin," cried orlando, "have you too gone over to the enemy?" "o my lord and master," cried the other, "i ask your pardon. i can see nothing; i am dying. some traitor has stabbed me in the back. if you love me, lead my horse into the thick of them, so that i may not die unavenged." "i shall die myself before long," said orlando, "out of very toil and grief; so we will go together." orlando led his cousin's horse where the press was thickest, and dreadful was the strength of the dying man and his tired companion. they made a street through which they passed out of the battle, and orlando led his cousin away to his tent, and said, "wait a little till i return, for i will go and sound the horn on the hill yonder." "'tis of no use," said oliver, "my spirit is fast going and desires to be with its lord and saviour." he would have said more, but his words came from him imperfectly, like those of a man in a dream, and so he expired. when orlando saw him dead he felt as if he was alone on the earth, and he was quite willing to leave it, only he wished that king charles, at the foot of the mountains, should know how the case stood before he went. so he took up the horn and blew it three times, with such force that the blood burst out of his nose and mouth. turpin says that at the third blast the horn broke in two. in spite of all the noise of the battle, the sound of the horn broke over it like a voice out of the other world. they say that birds fell dead at it, and that the whole saracen army drew back in terror. charlemagne was sitting in the midst of his court when the sound reached him, and gan was there. the emperor was the first to hear it. "do you hear that?" said he to his nobles. "did you hear the horn as i heard it?" upon this they all listened, and gan felt his heart misgive him. the horn sounded a second time. "what is the meaning of this?" said charles. "orlando is hunting," observed gan, "and the stag is killed." but when the horn sounded yet a third time, and the blast was one of so dreadful a vehemence, everybody looked at the other, and then they all looked at gan in a fury. charles rose from his seat. "this is no hunting of the stag," said he. "the sound goes to my very heart. o gan! o gan! not for thee do i blush, but for myself. o foul and monstrous villain! take him, gentleman, and keep him in close prison. would to god i had not lived to see this day!" but it was no time for words. they put the traitor in prison and then charles, with all his court, took his way to roncesvalles, grieving and praying. it was afternoon when the horn sounded, and half an hour after it when the emperor set out; and meantime orlando had returned to the fight that he might do his duty, however hopeless, as long as he could sit his horse. at length he found his end approaching, for toil and fever, and rode all alone to a fountain where he had before quenched his thirst. his horse was wearier than he, and no sooner had his master alighted than the beast, kneeling down as if to take leave, and to say, "i have brought you to a place of rest," fell dead at his feet. orlando cast water on him from the fountain, not wishing to believe him dead; but when he found it to no purpose, he grieved for him as if he had been a human being, and addressed him by name with tears, and asked forgiveness if he had ever done him wrong. they say that the horse, at these words, opened his eyes a little, and looked kindly at his master, and then stirred never more. they say also that orlando then summoning all his strength, smote a rock near him with his beautiful sword durindana, thinking to shiver the steel in pieces, and so prevent its falling into the hands of the enemy, but though the rock split like a slate, and a great cleft remained ever after to astonish the eyes of pilgrims, the sword remained uninjured. and now rinaldo and ricciardetto came up, with turpin, having driven back the saracens, and told orlando that the battle was won. then orlando knelt before turpin and begged remission of his sins, and turpin gave him absolution. orlando fixed his eyes on the hilt of his sword as on a crucifix, and embraced it, and he raised his eyes and appeared like a creature seraphical and transfigured, and bowing his head, he breathed out his pure soul. and now king charles and his nobles came up. the emperor, at sight of the dead orlando, threw himself, as if he had been a reckless youth, from his horse, and embraced and kissed the body, and said: "i bless thee, orlando; i bless thy whole life, and all that thou wast, and all that thou ever didst, and the father that begat thee; and i ask pardon of thee for believing those who brought thee to thine end. they shall have their reward, o thou beloved one! but indeed it is thou that livest, and i who am worse than dead." horrible to the emperor's eyes was the sight of the field of roncesvalles. the saracens indeed had fled, conquered; but all his paladins but two were left on it dead, and the whole valley looked like a great slaughter-house, trampled into blood and dirt, and reeking to the heat. charles trembled to his heart's core for wonder and agony. after gazing dumbly on the place he cursed it with a solemn curse, and wished that never grass might grow in it again, nor seed of any kind, neither within it nor on any of its mountains around, but the anger of heaven abide over it forever. charles and his warriors went after the saracens into spain. they took and fired saragossa, and marsilius was hung to the carob-tree under which he had planned his villainy with gan; and gan was hung and drawn and quartered in roncesvalles, amidst the execrations of the country. rinaldo and bayard charlemagne was overwhelmed with grief at the loss of so many of his bravest warriors at the disaster of roncesvalles, and bitterly reproached himself for his credulity in resigning himself so completely to the counsels of the treacherous count gan. yet he soon fell into a similar snare when he suffered his unworthy son, charlot, to acquire such an influence over him, that he constantly led him into acts of cruelty and injustice that in his right mind he would have scorned to commit. rinaldo and his brothers, for some slight offence to the imperious young prince, were forced to fly from paris, and to take shelter in their castle of montalban; for charles had publicly said, if he could take them he would hang them all. he sent numbers of his bravest knights to arrest them, but all without success. either rinaldo foiled their efforts and sent them back, stripped of their armor and of their glory, or, after meeting and conferring with him, they came back and told the king they could not be his instruments for such a work. at last charles himself raised a great army, and went in person to compel the paladin to submit. he ravaged all the country round about montalban, so that supplies of food should be cut off, and he threatened death to any who should attempt to issue forth, hoping to compel the garrison to submit for want of food. rinaldo's resources had been brought so low that it seemed useless to contend any longer. his brothers had been taken prisoners in a skirmish, and his only hope of saving their lives was in making terms with the king. so he sent a messenger, offering to yield himself and his castle if the king would spare his and his brothers' lives. while the messenger was gone rinaldo, impatient to learn what tidings he might bring, rode out to meet him. when he had ridden as far as he thought prudent he stopped in a wood, and alighting, tied bayard to a tree. then he sat down, and, as he waited, he fell asleep. bayard meanwhile got loose, and strayed away where the grass tempted him. just then came along some country people, who said to one another, "look, is not that the great horse bayard that rinaldo rides? let us take him, and carry him to king charles, who will pay us well for our trouble." they did so, and the king was delighted with his prize, and gave them a present that made them rich to their dying day. when rinaldo woke he looked round for his horse, and, finding him not, he groaned, and said, "o unlucky hour that i was born! how fortune persecutes me!" so desperate was he that he took off his armor and his spurs, saying, "what need have i of these, since bayard is lost?" while he stood thus lamenting, a man came from the thicket, seemingly bent with age. he had a long beard hanging over his breast, and eyebrows that almost covered his eyes. he bade rinaldo good day. rinaldo thanked him, and said, "a good day i have hardly had since i was born." then said the old man, "signor rinaldo, you must not despair, for god will make all things turn to the best." rinaldo answered, "my trouble is too heavy for me to hope relief. the king has taken my brothers, and means to put them to death. i thought to rescue them by means of my horse bayard, but while i slept some thief has stolen him." the old man replied, "i will remember you and your brothers in my prayers. i am a poor man, have you not something to give me?" rinaldo said, "i have nothing to give," but then he recollected his spurs. he gave them to the beggar, and said, "here, take my spurs. they are the first present my mother gave me when my father, count aymon, dubbed me knight. they ought to bring you ten pounds." the old man took the spurs, and put them into his sack, and said, "noble sir, have you nothing else you can give me?" rinaldo replied, "are you making sport of me? i tell you truly if it were not for shame to beat one so helpless, i would teach you better manners." the old man said, "of a truth, sir, if you did so you would do a great sin. if all had beaten me of whom i have begged i should have been killed long ago, for i ask alms in churches and convents, and wherever i can." "you say true," replied rinaldo, "if you did not ask, none would relieve you." the old man said, "true, noble sir, therefore i pray if you have anything more to spare, give it me." rinaldo gave him his mantle, and said, "take it, pilgrim. i give it you for the love of christ, that god would save my brothers from a shameful death, and help me to escape out of king charles's power." the pilgrim took the mantle, folded it up, and put it into his bag. then a third time he said to rinaldo, "sir, have you nothing left to give me that i may remember you in my prayers?" "wretch!" exclaimed rinaldo, "do you make me your sport?" and he drew his sword, and struck at him; but the old man warded off the blow with his staff, and said, "rinaldo, would you slay your cousin, malagigi?" when rinaldo heard that he stayed his hand, and gazed doubtingly on the old man, who now threw aside his disguise, and appeared to be indeed malagigi. "dear cousin," said rinaldo, "pray forgive me. i did not know you. next to god, my trust is in you. help my brothers to escape out of prison, i entreat you. i have lost my horse, and therefore cannot render them any assistance." malagigi answered, "cousin rinaldo, i will enable you to recover your horse. meanwhile, you must do as i say." then malagigi took from his sack a gown, and gave it to rinaldo to put on over his armor, and a hat that was full of holes, and an old pair of shoes to put on. they looked like two pilgrims, very old and poor. then they went forth from the wood, and after a little while saw four monks riding along the road. malagigi said to rinaldo, "i will go meet the monks, and see what news i can learn." malagigi learned from the monks that on the approaching festival there would be a great crowd of people at court, for the prince was going to show the ladies the famous horse bayard that used to belong to rinaldo. "what!" said the pilgrim; "is bayard there?" "yes," answered the monks; "the king has given him to charlot, and, after the prince has ridden him the king means to pass sentence on the brothers of rinaldo, and have them hanged." then malagigi asked alms of the monks, but they would give him none, till he threw aside his pilgrim garb, and let them see his armor, when, partly for charity and partly for terror, they gave him a golden cup, adorned with precious stones that sparkled in the sunshine. malagigi then hastened back to rinaldo, and told him what he had learned. the morning of the feast-day rinaldo and malagigi came to the place where the sports were to be held. malagigi gave rinaldo his spurs back again, and said, "cousin, put on your spurs, for you will need them." "how shall i need them," said rinaldo, "since i have lost my horse?" yet he did as malagigi directed him. when the two had taken their stand on the border of the field among the crowd the princes and ladies of the court began to assemble. when they were all assembled the king came also, and charlot with him, near whom the horse bayard was led, in the charge of grooms, who were expressly enjoined to guard him safely. the king, looking round on the circle of spectators, saw malagigi and rinaldo, and observed the splendid cup that they had, and said to charlot, "see, my son, what a brilliant cup those two pilgrims have got. it seems to be worth a hundred ducats." "that is true," said charlot; "let us go and ask where they got it." so they rode to the place where the pilgrims stood, and charlot stopped bayard close to them. the horse snuffed at the pilgrims, knew rinaldo, and caressed his master. the king said to malagigi, "friend, where did you get that beautiful cup?" malagigi replied, "honorable sir, i paid for it all the money i have saved from eleven years' begging in churches and convents. the pope himself has blessed it, and given it the power that whosoever eats or drinks out of it shall be pardoned of all his sins." then said the king to charlot, "my son, these are right holy men; see how the dumb beast worships them." then the king said to malagigi, "give me a morsel from your cup, that i may be cleared of my sins." malagigi answered, "illustrious lord, i dare not do it, unless you will forgive all who have at any time offended you. you know that christ forgave all those who had betrayed and crucified him." the king replied, "friend, that is true; but rinaldo has so grievously offended me, that i cannot forgive him, nor that other man, malagigi, the magician. these two shall never live in my kingdom again. if i catch them i will certainly have them hanged. but tell me, pilgrim, who is that man who stands beside you?" "he is deaf, dumb, and blind," said malagigi. then the king said again, "give me to drink of your cup, to take away my sins." malagigi answered, "my lord king, here is my poor brother, who for fifty days has not heard, spoken, nor seen. this misfortune befell him in a house where we found shelter, and the day before yesterday we met with a wise woman, who told him the only hope of a cure for him was to come to some place where bayard was to be ridden, and to mount and ride him; that would do him more good than anything else." then said the king, "friend, you have come to the right place, for bayard is to be ridden here to-day. give me a draught from your cup, and your companion shall ride upon bayard." malagigi, hearing these words, said, "be it so." then the king, with great devotion, took a spoon, and dipped a portion from the pilgrim's cup, believing that his sins should be thereby forgiven. when this was done, the king said to charlot, "son, i request that you will let this sick pilgrim sit on your horse, and ride if he can, for by so doing he will be healed of all his infirmities." charlot replied, "that will i gladly do." so saying, he dismounted, and the servants took the pilgrim in their arms, and helped him on the horse. wher rinaldo was mounted, he put his feet in the stirrups, and said, "i would like to ride a little." malagigi, hearing him speak, seemed delighted, and asked him whether he could see and hear also. "yes," said rinaldo, "i am healed of all my infirmities." when the king heard it he said to bishop turpin, "my lord bishop, we must celebrate this with a procession, with crosses and banners, for it is a great miracle." when rinaldo remarked that he was not carefully watched, he spoke to the horse, and touched him with the spurs. bayard knew that his master was upon him, and he started off upon a rapid pace, and in a few moments was a good way off. malagigi pretended to be in great alarm. "o noble king and master," he cried, "my poor companion is run away with; he will fall and break his neck." the king ordered his knights to ride after the pilgrim, and bring him back, or help him if need were. they did so, but it was in vain. rinaldo left them all behind him, and kept on his way till he reached montalban. malagigi was suffered to depart, unsuspected, and he went his way, making sad lamentation for the fate of his comrade, who he pretended to think must surely be dashed to pieces. malagigi did not go far, but having changed his disguise, returned to where the king was, and employed his best art in getting the brothers of rinaldo out of prison. he succeeded; and all three got safely to montalban, where rinaldo's joy at the rescue of his brothers and the recovery of bayard was more than tongue can tell. death of rinaldo the distress in rinaldo's castle for want of food grew more severe every day, under the pressure of the siege. the garrison were forced to kill their horses, both to save the provision they would consume, and to make food of their flesh. at last all the horses were killed except bayard, and rinaldo said to his brothers, "bayard must die, for we have nothing else to eat." so they went to the stable and brought out bayard to kill him. but alardo said, "brother, let bayard live a little longer; who knows what god may do for us?" bayard heard these words, and understood them as if he was a man, and fell on his knees, as if he would beg for mercy. when rinaldo saw the distress of his horse his heart failed him, and he let him live. just at this time aya, rinaldo's mother, who was the sister of the emperor, came to the camp, attended by knights and ladies, to intercede for her sons. she fell on her knees before the king, and besought him that he would pardon rinaldo and his brothers: and all the peers and knights took her side, and entreated the king to grant her prayer. then said the king, "dear sister, you act the part of a good mother, and i respect your tender heart, and yield to your entreaties. i will spare your sons their lives if they submit implicitly to my will." when charlot heard this he approached the king and whispered in his ear. and the king turned to his sister and said, "charlot must have bayard, because i have given the horse to him. now go, my sister, and tell rinaldo what i have said." when the lady aya heard these words she was delighted, thanked god in her heart, and said, "worthy king and brother, i will do as you bid me." so she went into the castle, where her sons received her most joyfully and affectionately, and she told them the king's offer. then alardo said, "brother, i would rather have the king's enmity than give bayard to charlot, for i believe he will kill him." likewise said all the brothers. when rinaldo heard them he said, "dear brothers, if we may win our forgiveness by giving up the horse, so be it. let us make our peace, for we cannot stand against the king's power." then he went to his mother, and told her they would give the horse to charlot, and more, too, if the king would pardon them, and forgive all that they had done against his crown and dignity. the lady returned to charles and told him the answer of her sons. when the peace was thus made between the king and the sons of aymon, the brothers came forth from the castle, bringing bayard with them, and, falling at the king's feet, begged his forgiveness. the king bade them rise, and received them into favor in the sight of all his noble knights and counsellors, to the great joy of all, especially of the lady aya, their mother. then rinaldo took the horse bayard, gave him to charlot, and said, "my lord and prince, this horse i give to you; do with him as to you seems good." charlot took him, as had been agreed on. then he made the servants take him to the bridge, and throw him into the water. bayard sank to the bottom, but soon came to the surface again and swam, saw rinaldo looking at him, came to land, ran to his old master, and stood by him as proudly as if he had understanding, and would say, "why did you treat me so?" when the prince saw that he said, "rinaldo, give me the horse again, for he must die." rinaldo replied, "my lord and prince, he is yours without dispute," and gave him to him. the prince then had a millstone tied to each foot, and two to his neck, and made them throw him again into the water. bayard struggled in the water, looked up to his master, threw off the stones, and came back to rinaldo. when alardo saw that, he said, "now must thou be disgraced forever, brother, if thou give up the horse again." but rinaldo answered, "brother, be still. shall i for the horse's life provoke the anger of the king again?" then alardo said, "ah, bayard! what a return do we make for all thy true love and service!" rinaldo gave the horse to the prince again, and said, "my lord, if the horse comes out again i cannot return him to you any more, for it wrings my heart too much." then charlot had bayard loaded with the stones as before, and thrown into the water; and commanded rinaldo that he should not stand where the horse would see him. when bayard rose to the surface he stretched his neck out of the water and looked round for his master, but saw him not. then he sunk to the bottom. rinaldo was so distressed for the loss of bayard that he made a vow to ride no horse again all his life long, nor to bind a sword to his side, but to become a hermit. he resolved to betake himself to some wild wood, but first to return to his castle, to see his children, and to appoint to each his share of his estate. so he took leave of the king and of his brothers, and returned to montalban, and his brothers remained with the king. rinaldo called his children to him, and he made his eldest born, aymeric, a knight, and made him lord of his castle and of his land. he gave to the rest what other goods he had, and kissed and embraced them all, commended them to god, and then departed from them with a heavy heart. he had not travelled far when he entered a wood, and there met with a hermit, who had long been retired from the world. rinaldo greeted him, and the hermit replied courteously, and asked him who he was and what was his purpose. rinaldo replied, "sir, i have led a sinful life; many deeds of violence have i done, and many men have i slain, not always in a good cause, but often under the impulse of my own headstrong passions. i have also been the cause of the death of many of my friends, who took my part, not because they thought me in the right, but only for love of me. and now i come to make confession of all my sins, and to do penance for the rest of my life, if perhaps the mercy of god will forgive me." the hermit said, "friend, i perceive you have fallen into great sins, and have broken the commandments of god, but his mercy is greater than your sins; and if you repent from your heart, and lead a new life, there is yet hope for you that he will forgive you what is past." so rinaldo was comforted, and said, "master, i will stay with you, and what you bid ane i will do." the hermit replied, "roots and vegetables will be your food; shirt or shoes you may not wear; your lot must be poverty and want if you stay with me." rinaldo replied, "i will cheerfully bear all this, and more." so he remained three whole years with the hermit, and after that his strength failed, and it seemed as if he was like to die. one night the hermit had a dream, and heard a voice from heaven, which commanded him to say to his companion that he must without delay go to the holy land, and fight against the heathen. the hermit, when he heard that voice, was glad, and calling rinaldo, he said, "friend, god's angel has commanded me to say to you that you must without delay go to jerusalem, and help our fellow-christians in their struggle with the infidels." then said rinaldo, "ah! master, how can i do that? it is over three years since i made a vow no more to ride a horse, nor take a sword or spear in my hand." the hermit answered, "dear friend, obey god, and do what the angel commanded." "i will do so," said rinaldo, "and pray for me, my master, that god may guide me right." then he departed, and went to the seaside, and took ship and came to tripoli in syria. and as he went on his way his strength returned to him, till it was equal to what it was in his best days. and though he never mounted a horse, nor took a sword in his hand, yet with his pilgrim's staff he did good service in the armies of the christians; and it pleased god that he escaped unhurt, though he was present in many battles, and his courage inspired the men with the same. at last a truce was made with the saracens, and rinaldo, now old and infirm, wishing to see his native land again before he died, took ship and sailed for france. when he arrived he shunned to go to the resorts of the great, and preferred to live among the humble folk, where he was unknown. he did country work, and lived on milk and bread, drank water, and was therewith content. while he so lived he heard that the city of cologne was the holiest and best of cities, on account of the relics and bodies of saints who had there poured out their blood for the faith. this induced him to betake himself thither. when the pious hero arrived at cologne he went to the monastery of st. peter, and lived a holy life, occupied night and day in devotion. it so happened that at that time in the next town to cologne there raged a dreadful pestilence. many people came to rinaldo, to beg him to pray for them, that the plague might be stayed. the holy man prayed fervently, and besought the lord to take away the plague from the people, and his prayer was heard. the stroke of the pestilence was arrested, and all the people thanked the holy man and praised god. now there was at this time at cologne a bishop, called agilolphus, who was a wise and understanding man, who led a pure and secluded life, and set a good example to others. this bishop undertook to build the church of st. peter, and gave notice to all stonemasons and other workmen round about to come to cologne, where they should find work and wages. among others came rinaldo; and he worked among the laborers and did more than four or five common workmen. when they went to dinner he brought stone and mortar so that they had enough for the whole day. when the others went to bed he stretched himself out on the stones. he ate bread only, and drank nothing but water; and had for his wages but a penny a day. the head workman asked him his name, and where he belonged. he would not tell, but said nothing and pursued his work. they called him st. peter's workman, because he was so devoted to his work. when the overseer saw the diligence of this holy man he chid the laziness of the other workmen, and said, "you receive more pay than this good man, but do not do half as much work." for this reason the other workmen hated rinaldo, and made a secret agreement to kill him. they knew that he made it a practice to go every night to a certain church to pray and give alms. so they agreed to lay wait for him, with the purpose to kill him. when he came to the spot, they seized him, and beat him over the head till he was dead. then they put his body into a sack, and stones with it, and cast it into the rhine, in the hope the sack would sink to the bottom, and be there concealed. but god willed not that it should be so, but caused the sack to float on the surface, and be thrown upon the bank. and the soul of the holy martyr was carried by angels, with songs of praise, up to the heavens. now at that time the people of dortmund had become converted to the christian faith; and they sent to the bishop of cologne, and desired him to give them some of the holy relics that are in such abundance in that city. so the bishop called together his clergy to deliberate what answer they should give to this request. and it was determined to give to the people of dortmund the body of the holy man who had just suffered martyrdom. when now the body with the coffin was put on the cart, the cart began to move toward dortmund without horses or help of men, and stopped not till it reached the place where the church of st. rinaldo now stands. the bishop and his clergy followed the holy man to do him honor, with singing of hymns, for a space of three miles. and st. rinaldo has ever since been the patron of that place, and many wonderful works has god done through him, as may be seen in the legends. huon of bordeaux when charlemagne grew old he felt the burden of government become heavier year by year, till at last he called together his high barons and peers to propose to abdicate the empire and the throne of france in favor of his sons, charlot and lewis. the emperor was unreasonably partial to his eldest son; he would have been glad to have had the barons and peers demand charlot for their only sovereign; but that prince was so infamous, for his falsehood and cruelty, that the council strenuously opposed the emperor's proposal of abdicating, and implored him to continue to hold a sceptre which he wielded with so much glory. amaury of hauteville, cousin of ganelon, and now head of the wicked branch of the house of maganza, was the secret partisan of charlot, whom he resembled in his loose morals and bad dispositions. amaury nourished the most bitter resentment against the house of guienne, of which the former duke, sevinus, had often rebuked his misdeeds. he took advantage of this occasion to do an injury to the two young children whom the duke sevinus had left under the charge of the duchess alice, their mother; and at the same time, to advance his interest with charlot by increasing his wealth and power. with this view he suggested to the prince a new idea. he pretended to agree with the opinion of the barons; he said that it would be best to try charlot's capacity for government by giving him some rich provinces before placing him upon the throne; and that the emperor, without depriving himself of any part of his realm, might give charlot the investiture of guienne. for although seven years had passed since the death of sevinus, the young duke, his son, had not yet repaired to the court of charlemagne to render the homage due to his lawful sovereign. we have often had occasion to admire the justice and wisdom of the advice which on all occasions the duke namo of bavaria gave to charlemagne, and he now discountenanced, with indignation, the selfish advice of amaury. he represented to the emperor the early age of the children of sevinus, and the useful and glorious services of their late father, and proposed to charlemagne to send two knights to the duchess at bordeaux, to summon her two sons to the court of the emperor, to pay their respects and render homage. charlemagne approved this advice, and sent two chevaliers to demand the two young princes of their mother. no sooner had the duchess learned the approach of the two knights, than she sent distinguished persons to receive them; and as soon as they entered the palace she presented herself before them, with her elder and younger sons, huon and girard. the deputies, delighted with the honors and caresses they received, accompanied with rich presents, left bordeaux with regret and on their return represented to charlemagne that the young duke huon seemed born to tread in the footsteps of his brave father, informing him that in three months the young princes of guienne would present themselves at his court. the duchess employed the short interval in giving her sons her last instructions. huon received them in his heart, and girard gave as much heed to them as could be expected from one so young. the preparations for their departure having been made, the duchess embraced them tenderly, commending them to the care of heaven, and charged them to call, on their way, at the celebrated monastery of cluny, to visit the abbot, the brother of their father. this abbot, worthy of his high dignity, had never lost an opportunity of doing good, setting an example of every excellence, and making virtue attractive by his example. he received his nephews with the greatest magnificence; and, aware how useful his presence might be to them with charlemagne, whose valued counsellor he was, he took with them the road to paris. when amaury learned what reception the two deputies of charlemagne had received at bordeaux, and the arrangements made for the visit of the young princes to the emperor's court, he suggested to charlot to give him a troop of his guards, with which he proposed to lay wait for the young men in the wood of montlery, put them to death, and thereby give the prince charlot possession of the duchy of guienne. a plan of treachery and violence agreed but too well with charlot's disposition. he not only adopted the suggestion of amaury, but insisted upon taking a part in it. they went out secretly, by night, followed by a great number of attendants, all armed in black, to lie in ambuscade in the wood where the brothers were to pass. girard, the younger of the two, having amused himself as he rode by flying his hawk at such game as presented itself, had ridden in advance of his brother and the abbot of cluny. charlot, who saw him coming, alone and unarmed, went forth to meet him, sought a quarrel with him, and threw him from his horse with a stroke of his lance. girard uttered a cry as he fell; huon heard it, and flew to his defence, with no other weapon than his sword. he came up with him, and saw the blood flowing from his wound. "what has this child done to you, wretch!" he exclaimed to charlot. "how cowardly to attack him when unprepared to defend himself!" "by my faith," said charlot, "i mean to do the same by you. know that i am the son of duke thierry of ardennes, from whom your father, sevinus, took three castles; i have sworn to avenge him, and i defy you." "coward," answered huon, "i know well the baseness that dwells in your race; worthy son of thierry, use the advantage that your armor gives you; but know that i fear you not." at these words charlot had the wickedness to put his lance in rest, and to run upon huon, who had barely time to wrap his arm in his mantle. with this feeble buckler he received the thrust of the lance. it penetrated the mantle, but missed his body. then, rising upon his stirrups, sir huon struck charlot so terrible a blow with his sword that the helmet was cleft asunder, and his head too. the dastardly prince fell dead upon the ground. huon now perceived that the wood was full of armed men. he called the men of his suite, and they hastily put themselves in order, but nobody issued from the wood to attack him. amaury, who saw charlot's fall, had no desire to compromit himself; and, feeling sure that charlemagne would avenge the death of his son, he saw no occasion for his doing anything more at present. he left huon and the abbot of cluny to bind up the wound of girard, and, having seen them depart and resume their way to paris, he took up the body of charlot, and, placing it across a horse, had it carried to paris, where he arrived four hours after huon. the abbot of cluny presented his nephew to charlemagne, but huon refrained from paying his obeisance, complaining grievously of the ambush which had been set for him, which he said could not have been without the emperor's permission. charlemagne, surprised at a charge which his magnanimous soul was incapable of meriting, asked eagerly of the abbot what were the grounds of the complaints of his nephew. the abbot told him faithfully all that had happened, informing him that a coward knight, who called himself the son of thierry of ardennes, had wounded girard, and run upon huon, who was unarmed; but by his force and valor he had overcome the traitor, and left him dead upon the plain. charlemagne indignantly disavowed any connection with the action of the infamous thierry, congratulated the young duke upon his victory, himself conducted the two brothers to a rich apartment, stayed to see the first dressing applied to the wound of girard, and left the brothers in charge of duke namo of bavaria, who, having been a companion in arms of the duke sevinus, regarded the young men almost as if they were his own sons. charlemagne had hardly quitted them when, returning to his chamber, he heard cries, and saw through the window a party of armed men just arrived. he recognized amaury, who bore a dead knight stretched across a horse; and the name of charlot was heard among the exclamations of the people assembled in the court-yard. charles's partiality for this unworthy son was one of his weaknesses. he descended in trepidation to the court-yard, ran to amaury, and uttered a cry of grief on recognizing charlot. "it is huon of bordeaux," said the traitor amaury, "who has massacred your son before it was in my power to defend him." charlemagne, furious at these words, seized a sword, and flew to the apartment of the two brothers to plunge it into the heart of the murderer of his son. duke namo stopped his hand for an instant, while charles told him the crime of which huon was accused. "he is a peer of the realm," said namo, "and if he is guilty, is he not here in your power, and are not we peers the proper judges to condemn him to death? let not your hand be stained with his blood." the emperor, calmed by the wisdom of duke namo, summoned amaury to his presence. the peers assembled to hear his testimony, and the traitor accused huon of bordeaux of having struck the fatal blow without allowing charlot an opportunity to defend himself, and though he knew that his opponent was the emperor's eldest son. the abbot of cluny, indignant at the false accusation of amaury, advanced, and said, "by saint benedict, sire, the traitor lies in his throat. if my nephew has slain charlot it was in his own defence, and after having seen his brother wounded by him, and also in ignorance that his adversary was the prince. though i am a son of the church," added the good abbot, "i forget not that i am a knight by birth. i offer to prove with my body the lie upon amaury, if he dares sustain it, and i shall feel that i am doing a better work to punish a disloyal traitor, than to sing lauds and matins." huon to this time had kept silent, amazed at the black calumny of amaury; but now he stepped forth, and, addressing amaury, said: "traitor! darest thou maintain in arms the lie thou hast uttered?" amaury, a knight of great prowess, despising the youth and slight figure of huon, hesitated not to offer his glove, which huon seized; then, turning again to the peers, he said: "i pray you let the combat be allowed me, for never was there a more legitimate cause." the duke namo and the rest, deciding that the question should be remitted to the judgment of heaven, the combat was ordained, to which charlemagne unwillingly consented. the young duke was restored to the charge of duke namo, who the next morning invested him with the honors of knighthood, and gave him armor of proof, with a white shield. the abbot of cluny, delighted to find in his nephew sentiments worthy of his birth, embraced him, gave him his blessing, and hastened to the church of st. germains to pray for him, while the officers of the king prepared the lists for the combat. the battle was long and obstinate. the address and agility of huon enabled him to avoid the terrible blows which the ferocious amaury aimed at him. but huon had more than once drawn blood from his antagonist. the effect began to be perceived in the failing strength of the traitor; at last he threw himself from his horse, and kneeling, begged for mercy. "spare me," he said, "and i will confess all. aid me to rise, and lead me to charlemagne." the brave and loyal huon, at these words, put his sword under his left arm, and stretched out his right to raise the prostrate man, who seized the opportunity to give him a thrust in the side. the hauberk of huon resisted the blow, and he was wounded but slightly. transported with rage at this act of baseness, he forgot how necessary for his complete acquittal the confession of amaury was, and without delay dealt him the fatal blow. duke namo and the other peers approached, had the body of amaury dragged forth from the lists, and conducted huon to charlemagne. the emperor, however, listening to nothing but his resentment and grief for the death of his son, refused to be satisfied; and under the plea that huon had not succeeded in making his accuser retract his charge seemed resolved to confiscate his estates and to banish him forever from france. it was not till after long entreaties on the part of duke namo and the rest that he consented to grant huon his pardon, under conditions which he should impose. huon approached, and knelt before the emperor, rendered his homage, and cried him mercy for the involuntary killing of his son. charlemagne would not receive the hands of huon in his own, but touched him with his sceptre, saying, "i receive thy homage, and pardon thee the death of my son, but only on one condition. you shall go immediately to the court of the sultan gaudisso; you shall present yourself before him as he sits at meat; you shall cut off the head of the most illustrious guest whom you shall find sitting nearest to him; you shall kiss three times on the mouth the fair princess, his daughter, and you shall demand of the sultan, as token of tribute to me, a handful of the white hair of his beard, and four grinders from his mouth." these conditions caused a murmur from all the assembly. "what!" said the abbot of cluny; "slaughter a saracen prince without first offering him baptism?" "the second condition is not so hard," said the young peers, "but the demand that huon is bound to make of the old sultan is very uncivil, and will be hard to obtain." the emperor's obstinacy when he had once resolved upon a thing is well known. to the courage of huon nothing seemed impossible. "i accept the conditions," said he, silencing the intercessions of the old duke of bavaria; "my liege, i accept my pardon at this price. i go to execute your commands, as your vassal and a peer of france." the duke namo and abbot of cluny, being unable to obtain any relaxation of the sentence passed by charlemagne, led forth the young duke, who determined to set out at once on his expedition. all that the good abbot could obtain of him was, that he should prepare for this perilous undertaking by going first to rome, to pay his homage to the pope, who was the brother of the duchess alice, huon's mother, and from him demand absolution and his blessing. huon promised it, and forthwith set out on his way to rome. huon of bordeaux (continued) huon, having traversed the apennines and italy, arrived at the environs of rome, where, laying aside his armor, he assumed the dress of a pilgrim. in this attire he presented himself before the pope, and not till after he had made a full confession of his sins did he announce himself as his nephew. "ah! my dear nephew," exclaimed the holy father, "what harder penance could i impose than the emperor has already done? go in peace, my son," he added, absolving him, "i go to intercede for you with the most high." then he led his nephew into his palace, and introduced him to all the cardinals and princes of rome as the duke of guienne, son of the duchess alice, his sister. huon, at setting out, had made a vow not to stop more than three days in a place. the holy father took advantage of this time to inspire him with zeal for the glory of christianity, and with confidence in the protection of the most high. he advised him to embark for palestine, to visit the holy sepulchre, and to depart thence for the interior of asia. loaded with the blessings of the holy father, huon, obeying his counsels, embarked for palestine, arrived, and visited with the greatest reverence the holy places. he then departed, and took his way toward the east. but, ignorant of the country and of the language, he lost himself in a forest, and remained three days without seeing a human creature, living on honey and wild fruits which he found on the trees. the third day, seeking a passage through a rocky defile, he beheld a man in tattered clothing, whose beard and hair covered his breast and shoulders. this man stopped on seeing him, observed him, and recognized the arms and bearing of a french knight. he immediately approached, and exclaimed, in the language of the south of france, "god be praised! do i indeed behold a chevalier of my own country, after fifteen years passed in this desert without seeing the face of a fellow-countryman?" huon, to gratify him still more, unlaced his helmet, and came towards him with a smiling countenance. the other regarded him with more surprise than at first. "good heaven!" he exclaimed, "was there ever such a resemblance? ah, noble sir," he added, "tell me, i beseech you, of what country and race you come?" "i require," replied huon, "before telling you mine, that you first reveal your own; let it suffice you at present to know that i am a christian, and that in guienne i was born." "ah! heaven grant that my eyes and my heart do not deceive me," exclaimed the unknown; "my name is sherasmin; i am brother to guire, the mayor of bordeaux. i was taken prisoner in the battle where my dear and illustrious master, sevinus, lost his life. for three years i endured the miseries of slavery; at length i broke my chains and escaped to this desert, where i have sustained myself in solitude ever since. your features recall to me my beloved sovereign, in whose service i was from my infancy till his death." huon made no reply but by embracing the old man, with tears in his eyes. then sherasmin learned that his arms enfolded the son of the duke sevinus. he led him to his cabin, and spread before him the dry fruits and honey which formed his only aliment. huon recounted his adventures to sherasmin, who was moved to tears at the recital. he then consulted him on means of conducting his enterprise. sherasmin hesitated not to confess that success seemed impossible; nevertheless he swore a solemn oath never to abandon him. the saracen language, which he was master of, would be serviceable to them when they should leave the desert, and mingle with men. they took the route of the red sea, and entered arabia. their way lay through a region which sherasmin described as full of terrors. it was inhabited by oberon, king of the fairies, who made captive such knights as were rash enough to penetrate into it, and transformed them into hobgoblins. it was possible to avoid this district at the expense of somewhat lengthening their route; but no dangers could deter huon of bordeaux; and the brave sherasmin, who had now resumed the armor of a knight, reluctantly consented to share with him the dangers of the shorter route. they entered a wood, and arrived at a spot whence alleys branched off in various directions. one of them seemed to be terminated by a superb palace, whose gilded roofs were adorned with brilliant weathercocks covered with diamonds. a superb chariot issued from the gate of the palace, and drove toward huon and his companion, as if to meet them half-way. the prince saw no one in the chariot but a child apparently about five years old, very beautiful, and clad in a robe which glittered with precious stones. at the sight of him, sherasmin's terror was extreme. he seized the reins of huon's horse, and turned him about, hurrying the prince away, and assuring him that they were lost if they stopped to parley with the mischievous dwarf, who, though he appeared a child, was full of years and of treachery. huon was sorry to lose sight of the beautiful dwarf, whose aspect had nothing in it to alarm; yet he followed his friend, who urged on his horse with all possible speed. presently a storm began to roar through the forest, the daylight grew dim, and they found their way with difficulty. from time to time they seemed to hear an infantine voice, which said, "stop, duke huon; listen to me: it is in vain you fly me!" sherasmin only fled the faster, and stopped not until he had reached the gate of a monastery of monks and nuns, the two communities of which were assembled at that time in a religious procession. sherasmin, feeling safe from the malice of the dwarf in the presence of so many holy persons and the sacred banners, stopped to ask an asylum, and made huon dismount also. but at that moment they were joined by the dwarf, who blew a blast upon an ivory horn which hung from his neck. immediately the good sherasmin, in spite of himself, began to dance like a young collegian, and seizing the hand of an aged nun, who felt as if it would be her death, they footed it briskly over the grass, and were imitated by all the other monks and nuns, mingled together, forming the strangest dancing-party ever beheld. huron alone felt no disposition to dance; but he came near dying of laughter at seeing the ridiculous postures and leaps of the others. the dwarf, approaching huon, said, in a sweet voice, and in huon's own language, "duke of guienne, why do you shun me? i conjure you, in heaven's name, speak to me." huon, hearing himself addressed in this serious manner, and knowing that no evil spirit would dare to use the holy name in aid of his schemes, replied, "sir, whoever you are, i am ready to hear and answer you." "huon, my friend," continued the dwarf, "i always loved your race, and you have been dear to me ever since your birth. the gracious state of conscience in which you were when you entered my wood has protected you from all enchantments, even if i had intended to practise any upon you. if these monks, these nuns, and even your friend sherasmin, had had a conscience as pure as yours, my horn would not have set them dancing; but where is the monk or the nun who can always be deaf to the voice of the tempter, and sherasmin in the desert has often doubted the power of providence." at these words huon saw the dancers overcome with exertion. he begged mercy for them, the dwarf granted it, and the effect of the horn ceased at once; the nuns got rid of their partners, smoothed their dresses, and hastened to resume their places in the procession. sherasmin, overcome with heat, panting, and unable to stand on his legs, threw himself upon the grass, and began, "did not i tell you"--he was going on in an angry tone, but the dwarf, approaching, said, "sherasmin, why have you murmured against providence? why have you thought evil of me? you deserved this light punishment; but i know you to be good and loyal; i mean to show myself your friend, as you shall soon see." at these words he presented him a rich goblet. "make the sign of the cross on this cup," said he, "and then believe that i hold my power from the god you adore, whose faithful servant i am, as well as you." sherasmin obeyed, and on the instant the cup was filled with delicious wine, a draught of which restored vigor to his limbs, and made him feel young again. overcome with gratitude, he threw himself on his knees, but the dwarf raised him, and bade him sit beside him, and thus commenced his history: "julius caesar, going by sea to join his army, was driven by a storm to take shelter in the island of celea, where dwelt the fairy glorianda. from this renowned pair i draw my birth. i am the inheritor of that which was most admirable in each of my parents: my father's heroic qualities, and my mother's beauty and magic art. but a malicious sister of my mother's, in revenge for some slight offence, touched me with her wand when i was only five years old, and forbade me to grow any bigger; and my mother, with all her power, was unable to annul the sentence. i have thus continued infantile in appearance, though full of years and experience. the power which i derive from my mother i use sometimes for my own diversion, but always to promote justice and to reward virtue. i am able and willing to assist you, duke of guienne, for i know the errand on which you come hither. i presage for you, if you follow my counsels, complete success; and the beautiful clarimunda for a wife." when he had thus spoken he presented to huon the precious and useful cup, which had the faculty of filling itself when a good man took it in his hand. he gave him also his beautiful horn of ivory, saying to him, "huon, when you sound this gently, you will make the hearers dance, as you have seen; but if you sound it forcibly, fear not that i shall hear it, though at a hundred leagues' distance, and will fly to your relief; but be careful not to sound it in that way, unless upon the most urgent occasion." oberon directed huon what course he should take to reach the country of the sultan gaudisso. "you will encounter great perils," said he, "before arriving there, and i fear me," he added, with tears in his eyes, "that you will not in everything obey my directions, and in that case you will suffer much calamity." then he embraced huon and sherasmin, and left them. huon and his follower travelled many days through the desert before they reached any inhabited place, and all this while the wonderful cup sustained them, furnishing them not only wine, but food also. at last they came to a great city. as day was declining, they entered its suburbs, and sherasmin, who spoke the saracen language perfectly, inquired for an inn where they could pass the night. a person who appeared to be one of the principal inhabitants, seeing two strangers of respectable appearance making this inquiry, stepped forward and begged them to accept the shelter of his mansion. they entered, and their host did the honors of his abode with a politeness which they were astonished to see in a saracen. he had them served with coffee and sherbet, and all was conducted with great decorum, till one of the servants awkwardly overturned a cup of hot coffee on the host's legs, when he started up, exclaiming in very good gascon, "blood and thunder! you blockhead, you deserve to be thrown over the mosque!" huon could not help laughing to see the vivacity and the language of his country thus break out unawares. the host, who had no idea that his guests understood his words, was astonished when huon addressed him in the dialect of his country. immediately confidence was established between them; especially when the domestics had retired. the host, seeing that he was discovered, and that the two pretended saracens were from the borders of the garonne, embraced them, and disclosed that he was a christian. huon, who had learned prudence from the advice of oberon, to test his host's sincerity, drew from his robe the cup which the fairy-king had given him, and presented it empty to the host. "a fair cup," said he, "but i should like it better if it was full." immediately it was so. the host, astonished, dared not put it to his lips. "drink boldly, my dear fellow-countryman," said huon; "your truth is proved by this cup, which only fills itself in the hands of an honest man." the host did not hesitate longer; the cup passed freely from hand to hand; their mutual cordiality increased as it passed, and each recounted his adventures. those of huon redoubled his host's respect; for he recognized in him his legitimate sovereign: while the host's narrative was in these words: "my name is floriac; this great and strong city, you will hear with surprise and grief, is governed by a brother of duke sevinus, and your uncle. you have no doubt heard that a young brother of the duke of guienne was stolen away from the sea-shore, with his companions, by some corsairs. i was then his page, and we were carried by those corsairs to barbary, where we were sold for slaves. the barbary prince sent us as part of the tribute which he yearly paid to his sovereign, the sultan gaudisso. your uncle, who had been somewhat puffed up by the flattery of his attendants, thought to increase his importance with his new master by telling him his rank. the sultan, who, like a true mussulman, detested all christian princes, exerted himself from that moment to bring him over to the saracen faith. he succeeded but too well. your uncle, seduced by the arts of the santons, and by the pleasures and indulgences which the sultan allowed him, committed the horrid crime of apostasy; he renounced his baptism, and embraced mahometanism. gaudisso then loaded him with honors, made him espouse one of his nieces, and sent him to reign over this city and adjoining country. your uncle preserved for me the same friendship which he had had when a boy; but all his caresses and efforts could not make me renounce my faith. perhaps he respected me in his heart for my resistance to his persuasions, perhaps he had hopes of inducing me in time to imitate him. he made me accompany him to this city, of which he was master, he gave me his confidence, and permits me to keep in my service some christians, whom i protect for the sake of their faith." "ah!" exclaimed huon, "take me to this guilty uncle. a prince of the house of guienne, must he not blush at the cowardly abandonment of the faith of his fathers?" "alas!" replied floriac, "i fear he will neither be sensible of shame at your reproaches, nor of pleasure at the sight of a nephew so worthy of his lineage. brutified by sensuality, jealous of his power, which he often exercises with cruelty, he will more probably restrain you by force or put you to death." "be it so," said the brave and fervent huon, "i could not die in a better cause; and i demand of you to conduct me to him to-morrow, after having told him of my arrival and my birth." floriac still objected, but huon would take no denial, and he promised obedience. next morning floriac waited upon the governor and told him of the arrival of his nephew, huon of bordeaux; and of the intention of the prince to present himself at his court that very day. the governor, surprised, did not immediately answer; though he at once made up his mind what to do. he knew that floriac loved christians and the princes of his native land too well to aid in any treason to one of them; he therefore feigned great pleasure at hearing of the arrival of the eldest born of his family at his court. he immediately sent floriac to find him; he caused his palace to be put in festal array, his divan to be assembled, and after giving some secret orders, went himself to meet his nephew, whom he introduced under his proper name and title to all the great officers of his court. huon burned with indignation at seeing his uncle with forehead encircled with a rich turban, surmounted with a crescent of precious stones. his natural candor made him receive with pain the embraces which the treacherous governor lavished upon him. meanwhile the hope of finding a suitable moment to reproach him for his apostasy made him submit to those honors which his uncle caused to be rendered to him. the governor evaded with address the chance of being alone with huon and spent all the morning in taking him through his gardens and palace. at last, when the hour of dinner approached, and the governor took him by the hand to lead him into the dining-hall, huon seized the opportunity and said to him in a low voice, "o my uncle! o prince, brother of the duke sevinus! in what condition have i the grief and shame of seeing you!" the governor pretended to be moved, pressed his hand, and whispered in his ear, "silence! my dear nephew; to-morrow morning i will hear you fully." huon, comforted a little by these words, took his seat at the table by the side of the governor. the mufti, some cadis, agas, and santons, filled the other places. sherasmin sat down with them; but floriac, who would not lose sight of his guests, remained standing, and passed in and out to observe what was going on within the palace. he soon perceived a number of armed men gliding through the passages and antechambers connected with the dining-hall. he was about to enter to give his guests notice of what he had seen when he heard a violent noise and commotion in the hall. the cause was this. huon and sherasmin were well enough suited with the first course and ate with good appetite; but the people of their country not being accustomed to drink only water at their meals, huon and sherasmin looked at one another, not very well pleased at such a regimen. huon laughed outright at the impatience of sherasmin, but soon, experiencing the same want himself, he drew forth oberon's cup and made the sign of the cross. the cup filled and he drank it off, and handed it to sherasmin, who followed his example. the governor and his officers, seeing this abhorred sign, contracted their brows and sat in silent consternation. huon pretended not to observe it, and having filled the cup again handed it to his uncle, saying, "pray, join us, dear uncle; it is excellent bordeaux wine, the drink that will be to you like mother's milk." the governor, who often drank in secret with his own favorite sultanas the wines of greece and shiraz, never in public drank anything but water. he had not for a long time tasted the excellent wines of his native land; he was sorely tempted to drink what was now handed to him, it looked so bright in the cup, outshining the gold itself. he stretched forth his hand, took the brimming goblet, and raised it to his lips, when immediately it dried up and disappeared. huon and sherasmin, like gascons as they were, laughed at his astonishment. "christian dogs!" he exclaimed, "do you dare to insult me at my own table? but i will soon be revenged." at these words he threw the cup at the head of his nephew, who caught it with his left hand, while with the other he snatched the turban, with its crescent, from the governor's head and threw it on the floor. all the saracens started up from table, with loud outcries, and prepared to avenge the insult. huon and sherasmin put themselves on their defence, and met with their swords the scimitars directed against them. at this moment the doors of the hall opened and a crowd of soldiers and armed eunuchs rushed in, who joined in the attack upon huon and sherasmin. the prince and his followers took refuge on a broad shelf or side-board, where they kept at bay the crowd of assailants, making the most forward of them smart for their audacity. but more troops came pressing in and the brave huon, inspired by the wine of bordeaux, and not angry enough to lose his relish for a joke, blew a gentle note on his horn, and no sooner was it heard than it quelled the rage of the combatants and set them to dancing. huon and sherasmin, no longer attacked, looked down from their elevated position on a scene the most singular and amusing. very soon the sultanas, hearing the sound of the dance and finding their guards withdrawn, came into the hall and mixed with the dancers. the favorite sultana seized upon a young santon, who performed jumps two feet high; but soon the long dresses of this couple got intermingled and threw them down. the santon's beard was caught in the sultana's necklace, and they could not disentangle them. the governor by no means approved this familiarity, and took two steps forward to get at the santon, but he stumbled over a prostrate dervise and measured his length on the floor. the dancing continued till the strength of the performers was exhausted, and they fell, one after the other, and lay helpless. the governor at length made signs to huon that he would yield everything if he would but allow him to rest. the bargain was ratified; the governor allowed huon and sherasmin to depart on their way, and even gave them a ring which would procure them safe passage through his country and access to the sultan gaudisso. the two friends hastened to avail themselves of this favorable turn, and taking leave of floriac, pursued their journey. huon of bordeaux (continued) huon had seen many beauties at his mother's court, but his heart had never been touched with love. honor had been his mistress, and in pursuit of that he had never found time to give a thought to softer cares. strange that a heart so insensible should first be touched by something so unsubstantial as a dream; but so it was. the day after the adventure with his uncle night overtook the travellers as they passed through a forest. a grotto offered them shelter from the night dews. the magic cup supplied their evening meal; for such was its virtue that it afforded not only wine, but more solid fare when desired. fatigue soon threw them into profound repose. lulled by the murmur of the foliage, and breathing the fragrance of the flowers, huon dreamed that a lady more beautiful than he had ever before seen hung over him and imprinted a kiss upon his lips. as he stretched out his arms to embrace her a sudden gust of wind swept her away. huon awoke in an agony of regret. a few moments sufficed to afford some consolation in showing him that what had passed was but a dream; but his perplexity and sadness could not escape the notice of sherasmin. huon hesitated not to inform his faithful follower of the reason of his pensiveness; and got nothing in return but his rallyings for allowing himself to be disturbed by such a cause. he recommended a draught from the fairy goblet, and huon tried it with good effect. at early dawn they resumed their way. they travelled till high noon, but said little to one another. huon was musing on his dream, and sherasmin's thoughts flew back to his early days on the banks of the flowery garonne. on a sudden they were startled by the cry of distress, and turning an angle of the wood, came where a knight hard pressed was fighting with a furious lion. the knight's horse lay dead, and it seemed as if another moment would end the combat, for terror and fatigue had quite disabled the knight for further resistance. he fell, and the lion's paw was raised over him, when a blow from huon's sword turned the monster's rage upon a new enemy. his roar shook the forest, and he crouched in act to spring, when, with the rapidity of lightning, huon plunged his sword into his side. he rolled over on the plain in the agonies of death. they raised the knight from the ground, and sherasmin hastened to offer him a draught from the fairy cup. the wine sparkled to the brim, and the warrior put forth his lips to quaff it, but it shrunk away, and did not even wet his lips. he dashed the goblet angrily on the ground, with an exclamation of resentment. this incident did not tend to make either party more acceptable to the other; and what followed was worse. for when huon said, "sir knight, thank god for your deliverance,"--"thank mahomet, rather, yourself," said he, "for he has led you this day to render service to no less a personage than the prince of hyrcania." at the sound of this blasphemy huon drew his sword and turned upon the miscreant, who, little disposed to encounter the prowess of which he had so lately seen proof, betook himself to flight. he ran to huon's horse, and lightly vaulting on his back, clapped spurs to his side, and galloped out of sight. the adventure was vexatious, yet there was no remedy. the prince and sherasmin continued their journey with the aid of the remaining horse as they best might. at length, as evening set in, they descried the pinnacles and towers of a great city full before them, which they knew to be the famous city of bagdad. they were well-nigh exhausted with fatigue when they arrived at its precincts, and in the darkness, not knowing what course to take, were glad to meet an aged woman, who, in reply to their inquiries, offered them such accommodations as her cottage could supply. they thankfully accepted the offer, and entered the low door. the good dame busily prepared the best fare her stores supplied,--milk, figs, and peaches,--deeply regretting that the bleak winds had nipped her almond-trees. sir huon thought he had never in his life tasted any fare so good. the old lady talked while her guests ate. she doubted not, she said, they had come to be present at the great feast in honor of the marriage of the sultan's daughter, which was to take place on the morrow. they asked who the bridegroom was to be, and the old lady answered, "the prince of hyrcania," but added, "our princess hates him, and would rather wed a dragon than him." "how know you that?" asked huon; and the dame informed him that she had it from the princess herself, who was her foster-child. huon inquired the reason of the princess's aversion; and the woman pleased to find her chat excite so much interest, replied that it was all in consequence of a dream. "a dream!" exclaimed huon. "yes! a dream. she dreamed that she was a hind, and that the prince, as a hunter, was pursuing her, and had almost overtaken her, when a beautiful dwarf appeared in view, drawn in a golden car, having by his side a young man of yellow hair and fair complexion, like one from a foreign land. she dreamed that the car stopped where she stood, and that, having resumed her own form, she was about to ascend it, when suddenly it faded from her view, and with it the dwarf and the fair-haired youth. but from her heart that vision did not fade, and from that time her affianced bridegroom, the hyrcanian prince, had become odious to her sight. yet the sultan, her father, by no means regarding such a cause as sufficient to prevent the marriage, had named the morrow as the time when it should be solemnized, in presence of his court and many princes of the neighboring countries, whom the fame of the princess's beauty and the bridegroom's splendor had brought to the scene." we may suppose this conversation woke a tumult of thoughts in the breast of huon. was it not clear that providence led him on, and cleared the way for his happy success? sleep did not early visit the eyes of huon that night; but, with the sanguine temper of youth, he indulged his fancy in imagining the sequel of his strange experience. the next day, which he could not but regard as the decisive day of his fate, he prepared to deliver the message of charlemagne. clad in his armor, fortified with his ivory horn and his ring, he reached the palace of gaudisso when the guests were assembled at the banquet. as he approached the gate a voice called on all true believers to enter; and huon, the brave and faithful huon, in his impatience passed in under that false pretention. he had no sooner passed the barrier than he felt ashamed of his baseness, and was overwhelmed with regret. to make amends for his fault he ran forward to the second gate, and cried to the porter, "dog of a misbeliever, i command you in the name of him who died on the cross, open to me!" the points of a hundred weapons immediately opposed his passage. huon then remembered for the first time the ring he had received from his uncle, the governor. he produced it, and demanded to be led to the sultan's presence. the officer of the guard recognized the ring, made a respectful obeisance, and allowed him free entrance. in the same way he passed the other doors to the rich saloon where the great sultan was at dinner with his tributary princes. at sight of the ring the chief attendant led huon to the head of the hall, and introduced him to the sultan and his princes as the ambassador of charlemagne. a seat was provided for him near the royal party. the prince of hyrcania, the same whom huon had rescued from the lion, and who was the destined bridegroom of the beautiful clarimunda, sat on the sultan's right hand, and the princess herself on his left. it chanced that huon found himself near the seat of the princess, and hardly were the ceremonies of reception over before he made haste to fulfill the commands of charlemagne by imprinting a kiss upon her rosy lips, and after that a second, not by command, but by good will. the prince of hyrcania cried out, "audacious infidel! take the reward of thy insolence!" and aimed a blow at huon, which, if it had reached him, would have brought his embassy to a speedy termination. but the ingrate failed of his aim, and huon punished his blasphemy and ingratitude at once by a blow which severed his head from his body. so suddenly had all this happened that no hand had been raised to arrest it; but now gaudisso cried out, "seize the murderer!" huon was hemmed in on all sides, but his redoubtable sword kept the crowd of courtiers at bay. but he saw new combatants enter, and could not hope to maintain his ground against so many. he recollected his horn, and raising it to his lips, blew a blast almost as loud as that of roland at roncesvalles. it was in vain. oberon heard it; but the sin of which huon had been guilty in bearing, though but for a moment, the character of a believer in the false prophet, had put it out of oberon's power to help him. huon, finding himself deserted, and conscious of the cause, lost his strength and energy, was seized, loaded with chains, and plunged into a dungeon. his life was spared for the time, merely that he might be reserved for a more painful death. the sultan meant that, after being made to feel all the torments of hunger and despair, he should be flayed alive. but an enchanter more ancient and more powerful than oberon himself interested himself for the brave huon. the enchanter was love. the princess clarimunda learned with horror the fate to which the young prince was destined. by the aid of her governante she gained over the keeper of the prison, and went herself to lighten the chains of her beloved. it was her hand that removed his fetters, from her he received supplies of food to sustain a life which he devoted from thenceforth wholly to her. after the most tender explanations the princess departed, promising to repeat her visit on the morrow. the next day she came according to promise, and again brought supplies of food. these visits were continued during a whole month. huon was too good a son of the church to forget that the amiable princess was a saracen, and he availed himself of these interviews to instruct her in the true faith. how easy it is to believe the truth when uttered by the lips of those we love! clarimunda ere long professed her entire belief in the christian doctrines, and desired to be baptized. meanwhile the sultan had repeatedly inquired of the jailer how his prisoner bore the pains of famine, and learned to his surprise that he was not yet much reduced thereby. on his repeating the inquiry, after a short interval, the keeper replied that the prisoner had died suddenly, and had been buried in the cavern. the sultan could only regret that he had not sooner ordered the execution of the sentence. while these things were going on the faithful sherasmin, who had not accompanied huon in his last adventure, but had learned by common rumor the result of it, came to the court in hopes of doing something for the rescue of his master. he presented himself to the sultan as solario, his nephew. guadisso received him with kindness, and all the courtiers loaded him with attentions. he soon found means to inform himself how the princess regarded the brave but unfortunate huon, and having made himself known to her, confidence was soon established between them. clarimunda readily consented to assist in the escape of huon, and to quit with him her father's court to repair to that of charlemagne. their united efforts had nearly perfected their arrangement, a vessel was secretly prepared, and all things in forwardness for the flight, when an unlooked-for obstacle presented itself. huon himself positively refused to go leaving the orders of charlemagne unexecuted. sherasmin was in despair. bitterly he complained of the fickleness and cruelty of oberon in withdrawing his aid at the very crisis when it was most necessary. earnestly he urged every argument to satisfy the prince that he had done enough for honor, and could not be held bound to achieve impossibilities. but all was of no avail, and he knew not which way to turn, when one of those events occurred which are so frequent under turkish despotisms. a courier arrived at the court of the sultan, bearing the ring of his sovereign, the mighty agrapard, caliph of arabia, and bringing the bow-string for the neck of gaudisso. no reason was assigned; none but the pleasure of the caliph is ever required in such cases; but it was suspected that the bearer of the bow-string had persuaded the caliph that gaudisso, whose rapacity was well known, had accumulated immense treasures, which he had not duly shared with his sovereign, and thus had obtained an order to supersede him in his emirship. the body of gaudisso would have been cast out a prey to dogs and vultures, had not sherasmin, under the character of nephew of the deceased, been permitted to receive it, and give it decent burial, which he did, but not till he had taken possession of the beard and grinders, agreeably to the orders of charlemagne. no obstacle now stood in the way of the lovers and their faithful follower in returning to france. they sailed, taking rome in their way, where the holy father himself blessed the union of his nephew, duke huon of bordeaux, with the princess clarimunda. soon afterward they arrived in france, where huon laid his trophies at the feet of charlemagne, and, being restored to the favor of the emperor, hastened to present himself and his bride to the duchess, his mother, and to the faithful liegemen of his province of guienne and his city of bordeaux, where the pair were received with transports of joy. ogier, the dane ogier, the dane, was the son of geoffrey, who wrested denmark from the pagans, and reigned the first christian king of that country. when ogier was born, and before he was baptized, six ladies of ravishing beauty appeared all at once in the chamber of the infant. they encircled him, and she who appeared the eldest took him in her arms, kissed him, and laid her hand upon his heart. "i give you," said she, "to be the bravest warrior of your times." she delivered the infant to her sister, who said, "i give you abundant opportunities to display your valor." "sister," said the third lady, "you have given him a dangerous boon; i give him that he shall never be vanquished." the fourth sister added, as she laid her hand upon his eyes and his mouth, "i give you the gift of pleasing." the fifth said, "lest all these gifts serve only to betray, i give you sensibility to return the love you inspire." then spoke morgana, the youngest and handsomest of the group. "charming creature, i claim you for my own; and i give you not to die till you shall have come to pay me a visit in my isle of avalon." then she kissed the child and departed with her sisters. after this the king had the child carried to the font and baptized with the name of ogier. in his education nothing was neglected to elevate him to the standard of a perfect knight, and render him accomplished in all the arts necessary to make him a hero. he had hardly reached the age of sixteen years when charlemagne, whose power was established over all the sovereigns of his time, recollected that geoffroy, ogier's father, had omitted to render the homage due to him as emperor, and sovereign lord of denmark, one of the grand fiefs of the empire. he accordingly sent an embassy to demand of the king of denmark this homage, and on receiving a refusal, couched in haughty terms, sent an army to enforce the demand. geoffroy, after an unsuccessful resistance, was forced to comply, and as a pledge of his sincerity delivered ogier, his eldest son, a hostage to charles, to be brought up at his court. he was placed in charge of the duke namo of bavaria, the friend of his father, who treated him like his own son. ogier grew up more and more handsome and amiable every day. he surpassed in form, strength, and address all the noble youths his companions; he failed not to be present at all tourneys; he was attentive to the elder knights, and burned with impatience to imitate them. yet his heart rose sometimes in secret against his condition as a hostage, and as one apparently forgotten by his father. the king of denmark, in fact, was at this time occupied with new loves. ogier's mother having died, he had married a second wife, and had a son named guyon. the new queen had absolute power over her husband, and fearing that, if he should see ogier again, he would give him the preference over guyon, she had adroitly persuaded him to delay rendering his homage to charlemagne, till now four years had passed away since the last renewal of that ceremony. charlemagne, irritated at this delinquency, drew closer the bonds of ogier's captivity until he should receive a response from the king of denmark to a fresh summons which he caused to be sent to him. the answer of geoffroy was insulting and defiant, and the rage of charlemagne was roused in the highest degree. he was at first disposed to wreak his vengeance upon ogier, his hostage; but at the entreaties of duke namo, who felt towards his pupil like a father, consented to spare his life, if ogier would swear fidelity to him as his liege-lord, and promise not to quit his court without his permission. ogier accepted these terms, and was allowed to retain all the freedom he had before enjoyed. the emperor would have immediately taken arms to reduce his disobedient vassal, if he had not been called off in another direction by a message from pope leo, imploring his assistance. the saracens had landed in the neighborhood of rome, occupied mount janiculum, and prepared to pass the tiber and carry fire and sword to the capital of the christian world. charlemagne hesitated not to yield to the entreaties of the pope. he speedily assembled an army, crossed the alps, traversed italy, and arrived at spoleto, a strong place to which the pope had retired. leo, at the head of his cardinals, advanced to meet him, and rendered him homage, as to the son of pepin, the illustrious protector of the holy see, coming, as his father had done, to defend it in the hour of need. charlemagne stopped but two days at spoleto, and learning that the infidels, having rendered themselves masters of rome, were besieging the capitol, which could not long hold out against them, marched promptly to attack them. the advanced posts of the army were commanded by duke namo, on whom ogier waited as his squire. he did not yet bear arms, not having received the order of knighthood. the oriflamme, the royal standard, was borne by a knight named alory, who showed himself unworthy of the honor. duke namo, seeing a strong body of the infidels advancing to attack him, gave the word to charge them. ogier remained in the rear, with the other youths, grieving much that he was not permitted to fight. very soon he saw alory lower the oriflamme, and turn his horse in flight. ogier pointed him out to the young men, and seizing a club, rushed upon alory and struck him from his horse. then, with his companions, he disarmed him, clothed himself in his armor, raised the oriflamme, and mounting the horse of the unworthy knight, flew to the front rank, where he joined duke namo, drove back the infidels, and carried the oriflamme quite through their broken ranks. the duke, thinking it was alory, whom he had not held in high esteem, was astonished at his strength and valor. ogier's young companions imitated him, supplying themselves with armor from the bodies of the slain; they followed ogier and carried death into the ranks of the saracens, who fell back in confusion upon their main body. duke namo now ordered a retreat, and ogier obeyed with reluctance, when they perceived charlemagne advancing to their assistance. the combat now became general, and was more terrible than ever. charlemagne had overthrown corsuble, the commander of the saracens, and had drawn his famous sword, joyeuse, to cut off his head, when two saracen knights set upon him at once, one of whom slew his horse, and the other overthrew the emperor on the sand. perceiving by the eagle on his casque who he was, they dismounted in haste to give him his deathblow. never was the life of the emperor in such peril. but ogier, who saw him fall, flew to his rescue. though embarrassed with the oriflamme, he pushed his horse against one of the saracens and knocked him down; and with his sword dealt the other so vigorous a blow that he fell stunned to the earth. then helping the emperor to rise, he remounted him on the horse of one of the fallen knights. "brave and generous alory!" charles exclaimed, "i owe to you my honor and my life!" ogier made no answer; but, leaving charlemagne surrounded by a great many of the knights who had flown to his succor, he plunged into the thickest ranks of the enemy, and carried the oriflamme, followed by a gallant train of youthful warriors, till the standard of mahomet turned in retreat, and the infidels sought safety in their intrenchments. then the good archbishop turpin laid aside his helmet and his bloody sword (for he always felt that he was clearly in the line of his duty while slaying infidels), took his mitre and his crosier, and intoned te deum. at this moment ogier, covered with blood and dust, came to lay the oriflamme at the feet of the emperor. he was followed by a train of warriors of short stature, who walked ill at ease loaded with armor too heavy for them. ogier knelt at the feet of charlemagne, who embraced him, calling him alory, while turpin from the height of the altar, blessed him with all his might. then young orlando, son of the count milone, and nephew of charlemagne, no longer able to endure this misapprehension, threw down his helmet, and ran to unlace ogier's, while the other young men laid aside theirs. our author says he cannot express the surprise, the admiration, and the tenderness of the emperor and his peers. charles folded ogier in his arms, and the happy fathers of those brave youths embraced them with tears of joy. the good duke namo stepped forward, and charlemagne yielded ogier to his embrace. "how much do i owe you," he said, "good and wise friend, for having restrained my anger! my dear ogier! i owe you my life! my sword leaps to touch your shoulder, yours and those of your brave young friends." at these words he drew that famous sword, joyeuse, and while ogier and the rest knelt before him, gave them the accolade conferring on them the order of knighthood. the young orlando and his cousin oliver could not refrain, even in the presence of the emperor, from falling upon ogier's neck, and pledging with him that brotherhood in arms, so dear and so sacred to the knights of old times; but charlot, the emperor's son, at the sight of the glory with which ogier had covered himself, conceived the blackest jealousy and hate. the rest of the day and the next were spent in the rejoicings of the army. turpin in a solemn service implored the favor of heaven upon the youthful knights, and blessed the white armor which was prepared for them. duke namo presented them with golden spurs, charles himself girded on their swords. but what was his astonishment when he examined that intended for ogier! the loving fairy, morgana, had had the art to change it, and to substitute one of her own procuring, and when charles drew it out of the scabbard, these words appeared written on the steel: "my name is cortana, of the same steel and temper as joyeuse and durindana." charles saw that a superior power watched over the destinies of ogier; he vowed to love him as a father would, and ogier promised him the devotion of a son. happy had it been for both if they had always continued mindful of their promises. the saracen army had hardly recovered from its dismay when carahue, king of mauritania, who was one of the knights overthrown by ogier at the time of the rescue of charlemagne, determined to challenge him to single combat. with that view he assumed the dress of a herald, resolved to carry his own message. the french knights admired his air, and said to one another that he seemed more fit to be a knight than a bearer of messages. carahue began by passing the warmest eulogium upon the knight who bore the oriflamme on the day of the battle, and concluded by saying that carahue, king of mauritania, respected that knight so much that he challenged him to the combat. ogier had risen to reply, when he was interrupted by charlot, who said that the gage of the king of mauritania could not fitly be received by a vassal, living in captivity; by which he meant ogier, who was at that time serving as hostage for his father. fire flashed from the eyes of ogier, but the presence of the emperor restrained his speech, and he was calmed by the kind looks of charlemagne, who said, with an angry voice, "silence, charlot! by the life of bertha, my queen, he who has saved my life is as dear to me as yourself. ogier," he continued, "you are no longer a hostage. herald! report my answer to your master, that never does knight of my court refuse a challenge on equal terms. ogier, the dane, accepts of his, and i myself am his security." carahue, profoundly bowing, replied, "my lord, i was sure that the sentiments of so great a sovereign as yourself would be worthy of your high and brilliant fame; i shall report your answer to my master, who i know admires you, and unwillingly takes arms against you." then, turning to charlot, whom he did not know as the son of the emperor, he continued, "as for you, sir knight, if the desire of battle inflames you, i have it in charge from sadon, cousin of the king of mauritania, to give the like defiance to any french knights who will grant him the honor of the combat." charlot, inflamed with rage and vexation at the public reproof which he had just received, hesitated not to deliver his gage. carahue received it with ogier's, and it was agreed that the combat should be on the next day in a meadow environed by woods and equally distant from both armies. the perfidious charlot meditated the blackest treason. during the night he collected some knights unworthy of the name, and like himself in their ferocious manners; he made them swear to avenge his injuries, armed them in black armor, and sent them to lie in ambush in the wood, with orders to make a pretended attack upon the whole party, but in fact, to lay heavy hands upon ogier and the two saracens. at the dawn of day sadon and carahue, attended only by two pages to carry their spears, took their way to the appointed meadow; and charlot and ogier repaired thither also, but by different paths. ogier advanced with a calm air, saluted courteously the two saracen knights, and joined them in arranging the terms of combat. while this was going on the perfidious charlot remained behind and gave his men the signal to advance. that cowardly troop issued from the wood and encompassed the three knights. all three were equally surprised at the attack, but neither of them suspected the other to have any hand in the treason. seeing the attack made equally upon them all, they united their efforts to resist it, and made the most forward of the assailants bite the dust. cortana fell on no one without inflicting a mortal wound, but the sword of carahue was not of equal temper and broke in his hands. at the same instant his horse was slain, and carahue fell, without a weapon, and entangled with his prostrate horse. ogier, who saw it, ran to his defence, and leaping to the ground covered the prince with his shield, supplied him with the sword of one of the fallen ruffians, and would have him mount his own horse. at that moment charlot, inflamed with rage, pushed his horse upon ogier, knocked him down, and would have run him through with his lance if sadon, who saw the treason, had not sprung upon him and thrust him back. carahue leapt lightly upon the horse which ogier presented him, and had time only to exclaim, "brave ogier, i am no longer your enemy, i pledge to you an eternal friendship," when numerous saracen knights were seen approaching, having discovered the treachery, and charlot with his followers took refuge in the wood. the troop which advanced was commanded by dannemont, the exiled king of denmark, whom geoffroy, ogier's father, had driven from his throne and compelled to take refuge with the saracens. learning who ogier was, he instantly declared him his prisoner, in spite of the urgent remonstrances and even threats of carahue and sadon, and carried him under a strong guard to the saracen camp. here he was at first subjected to the most rigorous captivity, but carahue and sadon insisted so vehemently on his release, threatening to turn their arms against their own party if it was not granted, while dannemont as eagerly opposed the measure, that corsuble, the saracen commander, consented to a middle course, and allowed ogier the freedom of his camp, upon his promise not to leave it without permission. carahue was not satisfied with this partial concession. he left the city next morning, proceeded to the camp of charlemagne, and demanded to be led to the emperor. when he reached his presence he dismounted from his horse, took off his helmet, drew his sword, and holding it by the blade presented it to charlemagne as he knelt before him. "illustrious prince," he said, "behold before you the herald who brought the challenge to your knights from the king of mauritania. the cowardly old king dannemont has made the brave ogier prisoner, and has prevailed on our general to refuse to give him up. i come to make amends for this ungenerous conduct by yielding myself, carahue, king of mauritania, your prisoner." charlemagne, with all his peers, admired the magnanimity of carahue; he raised him, embraced him, and restored to him his sword. "prince," said he, "your presence and the bright example you afford my knights consoles me for the loss of ogier. would to god you might receive our holy faith, and be wholly united with us." all the lords of the court, led by duke namo, paid their respects to the king of mauritania. charlot only failed to appear, fearing to be recognized as a traitor; but the heart of carahue was too noble to pierce that of charlemagne by telling him the treachery of his son. meanwhile the saracen army was rent by discord. the troops of carahue clamored against the commander-in-chief because their king was left in captivity. they even threatened to desert the cause and turn their arms against their allies. charlemagne pressed the siege vigorously, till at length the saracen leaders found themselves compelled to abandon the city and betake themselves to their ships. a truce was made; ogier was exchanged for carahue, and the two friends embraced one another with vows of perpetual brotherhood. the pope was reestablished in his dominions, and italy being tranquil, charlemagne returned with his peers and their followers to france. ogier, the dane (continued) charlemagne had not forgotten the offence of geoffroy, the king of denmark, in withholding homage, and now prepared to enforce submission. but at this crisis he was waited upon by an embassy from geoffroy, acknowledging his fault, and craving assistance against an army of invaders who had attacked his states with a force which he was unable to repel. the soul of charlemagne was too great to be implacable, and he took this opportunity to test that of ogier, who had felt acutely the unkindness of his father, in leaving him, without regard or notice, fifteen years in captivity. charles asked ogier whether, in spite of his father's neglect, he was disposed to lead an army to his assistance. he replied, "a son can never be excused from helping his father by any cause short of death." charlemagne placed an army of a thousand knights under the command of ogier, and great numbers more volunteered to march under so distinguished a leader. he flew to the succor of his father, repelled the invaders, and drove them in confusion to their vessels. ogier then hastened to the capital, but as he drew near the city he heard all the bells sounding a knell. he soon learned the cause; it was the obsequies of geoffroy, the king. ogier felt keenly the grief of not having been permitted to embrace his father once more, and to learn his latest commands; but he found that his father had declared him heir to his throne. he hastened to the church where the body lay; he knelt and bathed the lifeless form with his tears. at that moment a celestial light beamed all around, and a voice of an angel said, "ogier, leave thy crown to guyon, thy brother, and bear no other title than that of 'the dane.' thy destiny is glorious, and other kingdoms are reserved for thee." ogier obeyed the divine behest. he saluted his stepmother respectfully, and embracing his brother, told him that he was content with his lot in being reckoned among the paladins of charlemagne, and resigned all claims to the crown of denmark. ogier returned covered with glory to the court of charlemagne, and the emperor, touched with this proof of his attachment, loaded him with caresses, and treated him almost as an equal. we pass in silence the adventures of ogier for several ensuing years, in which the fairy-gifts of his infancy showed their force in making him successful in all enterprises, both of love and war. he married the charming belicene, and became the father of young baldwin, a youth who seemed to inherit in full measure the strength and courage of his father and the beauty of his mother. when the lad was old enough to be separated from his mother, ogier took him to court and presented him to charlemagne, who embraced him and took him into his service. it seemed to duke namo, and all the elder knights, as if they saw in him ogier himself, as he was when a youth; and this resemblance won for the lad their kind regards. even charlot at first seemed to be fond of him, though after a while the resemblance to ogier which he noticed had the effect to excite his hatred. baldwin was attentive to charlot, and lost no occasion to be serviceable. the prince loved to play chess, and baldwin, who played well, often made a party with him. one day charlot was nettled at losing two pieces in succession; he thought he could, by taking a piece from baldwin, get some amends for his loss; but baldwin, seeing him fall into a trap which he had set for him, could not help a slight laugh, as he said, "check-mate." charlot rose in a fury, seized the rich and heavy chess-board, and dashed it with all his strength on the head of baldwin, who fell, and died where he fell. frightened at his own crime, and fearing the vengeance of the terrible ogier, charlot concealed himself in the interior of the palace. a young companion of baldwin hastened and informed ogier of the event. he ran to the chamber, and beheld the body of his child bathed in blood, and it could not be concealed from him that charlot gave the blow. transported with rage, ogier sought charlot through the palace, and charlot, feeling safe nowhere else, took refuge in the hall of charlemagne, where he seated himself at table with duke namo and salomon, duke of brittany. ogier, with sword drawn, followed him to the very table of the emperor. when a cupbearer attempted to bar his way he struck the cup from his hand and dashed the contents in the emperor's face. charles rose in a passion, seized a knife, and would have plunged it into his breast, had not salomon and another baron thrown themselves between, while namo, who had retained his ancient influence over ogier, drew him out of the room. foreseeing the consequence of this violence, pitying ogier, and in his heart excusing him, namo hurried him away before the guards of the palace could arrest him, made him mount his horse, and leave paris. charlemagne called together his peers, and made them take an oath to do all in their power to arrest ogier, and bring him to condign punishment. ogier on his part sent messages to the emperor, offering to give himself up on condition that charlot should be punished for his atrocious crime. the emperor would listen to no conditions, and went in pursuit of ogier at the head of a large body of soldiers. ogier, on the other hand, was warmly supported by many knights, who pledged themselves in his defence. the contest raged long, with no decisive results. ogier more than once had the emperor in his power, but declined to avail himself of his advantage, and released him without conditions. he even implored pardon for himself, but demanded at the same time the punishment of charlot. but charlemagne was too blindly fond of his unworthy son to subject him to punishment for the sake of conciliating one who had been so deeply injured. at length, distressed at the blood which his friends had lost in his cause, ogier dismissed his little army, and slipping away from those who wished to attend him, took his course to rejoin the duke guyon, his brother. on his way, having reached the forest of ardennes, weary with long travel, the freshness of a retired valley tempted him to lie down to take some repose. he unsaddled beiffror, relieved himself of his helmet, lay down on the turf, rested his head on his shield, and slept. it so happened that turpin, who occasionally recalled to mind that he was archbishop of rheins, was at that time in the vicinity, making a pastoral visit to the churches under his jurisdiction. but his dignity of peer of france, and his martial spirit, which caused him to be reckoned among the "preux chevaliers" of his time, forbade him to travel without as large a retinue of knights as he had of clergymen. one of these was thirsty, and knowing the fountain on the borders of which ogier was reposing, he rode to it, and was struck by the sight of a knight stretched on the ground. he hastened back, and let the archbishop know, who approached the fountain, and recognized ogier. the first impulse of the good and generous turpin was to save his friend, for whom he felt the warmest attachment; but his archdeacons and knights, who also recognized ogier, reminded the archbishop of the oath which the emperor had exacted of them all. turpin could not be false to his oath; but it was not without a groan that he permitted his followers to bind the sleeping knight. the archbishop's attendants secured the horse and arms of ogier, and conducted their prisoner to the emperor at soissons. the emperor had become so much embittered by ogier's obstinate resistance, added to his original fault, that he was disposed to order him to instant death. but turpin, seconded by the good dukes namo and salomon, prayed so hard for him that charlemagne consented to remit a violent death, but sentenced him to close imprisonment, under the charge of the archbishop, strictly limiting his food to one quarter of a loaf of bread per day, with one piece of meat, and a quarter of a cup of wine. in this way he hoped to quickly put an end to his life without bringing on himself the hostility of the king of denmark, and other powerful friends of ogier. he exacted a new oath of turpin to obey his order strictly. the good archbishop loved ogier too well not to cast about for some means of saving his life, which he foresaw he would soon lose if subjected to such scanty fare, for ogier was seven feet tall, and had an appetite in proportion. turpin remembered, moreover, that ogier was a true son of the church, always zealous to propagate the faith and subdue unbelievers; so he felt justified in practising on this occasion what in later times has been entitled "mental reservation," without swerving from the letter of the oath which he had taken. this is the method he hit upon. every morning he had his prisoner supplied with a quarter of a loaf of bread, made of two bushels of flour, to this he added a quarter of a sheep or a fat calf, and he had a cup made which held forty pints of wine, and allowed ogier a quarter of it daily. ogier's imprisonment lasted long; charlemagne was astonished to hear, from time to time, that he still held out; and when he inquired more particularly of turpin, the good archbishop, relying on his own understanding of the words, did not hesitate to affirm positively that he allowed his prisoner no more than the permitted ration. we forgot to say that, when ogier was led prisoner to soissons, the abbot of saint faron, observing the fine horse beiffror, and not having at the time any other favor to ask of charlemagne, begged the emperor to give him the horse, and had him taken to his abbey. he was impatient to try his new acquisition, and when he had arrived in his litter at the foot of the mountain where the horse had been brought to meet him mounted him and rode onward. the horse, accustomed to bear the enormous weight of ogier in his armor, when he perceived nothing on his back but the light weight of the abbot, whose long robes fluttered against his sides, ran away, making prodigious leaps over the steep acclivities of the mountain till he reached the convent of jouaire, where, in sight of the abbess and her nuns, he threw the abbot, already half dead with fright, to the ground. the abbot, bruised and mortified, revenged himself on poor beiffror, whom he condemned, in his wrath, to be given to the workmen to drag stones for a chapel that he was building near the abbey. thus, ill-fed, hard-worked, and often beaten, the noble horse beiffror passed the time while his master's imprisonment lasted. that imprisonment would have been as long as his life if it had not been for some important events which forced the emperor to set ogier at liberty. the emperor learned at the same time that carahue, king of mauritania, was assembling an army to come and demand the liberation of ogier; that guyon, king of denmark, was prepared to second the enterprise with all his forces; and, worse than all, that the saracens, under bruhier, sultan of arabia, had landed in gascony, taken bordeaux, and were marching with all speed for paris. charlemagne now felt how necessary the aid of ogier was to him. but, in spite of the representations of turpin, namo, and salomon, he could not bring himself to consent to surrender charlot to such punishment as ogier should see fit to impose. besides, he believed that ogier was without strength and vigor, weakened by imprisonment and long abstinence. at this crisis he received a message from bruhier, proposing to put the issue upon the result of a combat between himself and the emperor or his champion; promising, if defeated, to withdraw his army. charlemagne would willingly have accepted the challenge, but his counsellors all opposed it. the herald was therefore told that the emperor would take time to consider his proposition, and give his answer the next day. it was during this interval that the three dukes succeeded in prevailing upon charlemagne to pardon ogier, and to send for him to combat the puissant enemy who now defied him; but it was no easy task to persuade ogier. the idea of his long imprisonment and the recollection of his son, bleeding and dying in his arms by the blow of the ferocious charlot, made him long resist the urgency of his friends. though glory called him to encounter bruhier, and the safety of christendom demanded the destruction of this proud enemy of the faith, ogier only yielded at last on condition that charlot should be delivered into his hands to be dealt with as he should see fit. the terms were hard, but the danger was pressing, and charlemagne, with a returning sense of justice, and a strong confidence in the generous though passionate soul of ogier, at last consented to them. ogier was led into the presence of charlemagne by the three peers. the emperor, faithful to his word, had caused charlot to be brought into the hall where the high barons were assembled, his hands tied, and his head uncovered. when the emperor saw ogier approach he took charlot by the arm, led him towards ogier, and said these words: "i surrender the criminal; do with him as you think fit." ogier, without replying, seized charlot by the hair, forced him on his knees, and lifted with the other hand his irresistible sword. charlemagne, who expected to see the head of his son rolling at his feet, shut his eyes and uttered a cry of horror. ogier had done enough. the next moment he raised charlot, cut his bonds, kissed him on the mouth, and hastened to throw himself at the feet of the emperor. nothing can exceed the surprise and joy of charlemagne at seeing his son unharmed and ogier kneeling at his feet. he folded him in his arms, bathed him with tears, and exclaimed to his barons, "i feel at this moment that ogier is greater than i." as for charlot, his base soul felt nothing but the joy of having escaped death; he remained such as he had been, and it was not till some years afterwards he received the punishment he deserved, from the hands of huon of bordeaux, as we have seen in a former chapter. ogier, the dane (continued) when charlemagne had somewhat recovered his composure he was surprised to observe that ogier appeared in good case, and had a healthy color in his cheeks. he turned to the archbishop, who could not help blushing as he met his eye. "by the head of bertha, my queen," said charlemagne, "ogier has had good quarters in your castle, my lord archbishop; but so much the more am i indebted to you." all the barons laughed and jested with turpin, who only said, "laugh as much as you please, my lords; but for my part i am not sorry to see the arm in full vigor that is to avenge us on the proud saracen." charlemagne immediately despatched his herald, accepting the challenge, and appointing the next day but one for the encounter. the proud and crafty bruhier laughed scornfully when he heard the reply accepting his challenge, for he had a reliance on certain resources besides his natural strength and skill. however, he swore by mahomet to observe the conditions as proposed and agreed upon. ogier now demanded his armor, and it was brought to him in excellent condition, for the good turpin had kept it faithfully; but it was not easy to provide a horse for the occasion. charlemagne had the best horses of his stables brought out, except blanchard, his own charger; but all in vain, the weight of ogier bent their backs to the ground. in this embarrassment the archbishop remembered that the emperor had given beiffror to the abbot of st. faron, and sent off a courier in haste to re-demand him. monks are hard masters, and the one who directed the laborers at the abbey had but too faithfully obeyed the orders of the abbot. poor beiffror was brought back, lean, spiritless, and chafed with the harness of the vile cart that he had had to draw so long. he carried his head down, and trod heavily before charlemagne; but when he heard the voice of ogier he raised his head, he neighed, his eyes flashed, his former ardor showed itself by the force with which he pawed the ground. ogier caressed him, and the good steed seemed to return his caresses; ogier mounted him, and beiffror, proud of carrying his master again, leapt and curvetted with all his youthful vigor. nothing being now wanted, charlemagne, at the head of his army, marched forth from the city of paris, and occupied the hill of montmartre, whence the view extended over the plain of st. denis, where the battle was to be fought. when the appointed day came the dukes namo and salomon, as seconds of ogier, accompanied him to the place marked out for the lists, and bruhier, with two distinguished emirs, presented himself on the other side. bruhier was in high spirits, and jested with his friends, as he advanced, upon the appearance of beiffror. "is that the horse they presume to match with marchevallee, the best steed that ever fed in the vales of mount atlas?" but now the combatants, having met and saluted each other, ride apart to come together in full career. beiffror flew over the plain, and met the adversary more than half-way. the lances of the two combatants were shivered at the shock, and bruhier was astonished to see almost at the same instant the sword of ogier gleaming above his head. he parried it with his buckler, and gave ogier a blow on his helmet, who returned it with another, better aimed or better seconded by the temper of his blade, for it cut away part of bruhier's helmet, and with it his ear and part of his cheek. ogier, seeing the blood, did not immediately repeat his blow, and bruhier seized the moment to gallop off at one side. as he rode he took a vase of gold which hung at his saddle-bow, and bathed with its contents the wounded part. the blood instantly ceased to flow, the ear and the flesh were restored quite whole, and the dane was astonished to see his antagonist return to the ground as sound as ever. bruhier laughed at his amazement. "know," said he, "that i possess the precious balm that joseph of arimathea used upon the body of the crucified one, whom you worship. if i should lose an arm i could restore it with a few drops of this. it is useless for you to contend with me. yield yourself, and, as you appear to be a strong fellow, i will make you first oarsman in one of my galleys." ogier, though boiling with rage, forgot not to implore the assistance of heaven. "o lord!" he exclaimed, "suffer not the enemy of thy name to profit by the powerful help of that which owes all its virtue to thy divine blood." at these words he attacked bruhier again with more vigor than ever; both struck terrible blows, and made grievous wounds; but the blood flowed from those of ogier, while bruhier stanched his by the application of his balm. ogier, desperate at the unequal contest, grasped cortana with both hands, and struck his enemy such a blow that it cleft his buckler, and cut off his arm with it; but bruhier at the same time launched one at ogier, which, missing him, struck the head of beiffror, and the good horse fell, and drew down his master in his fall. bruhier had time to leap to the ground, to pick up his arm and apply his balsam; then, before ogier had recovered his footing, he rushed forward with sword uplifted to complete his destruction. charlemagne, from the height of montmartre, seeing the brave ogier in this situation, groaned, and was ready to murmur against providence; but the good turpin, raising his arms, with a faith like that of moses, drew down upon the christian warrior the favor of heaven. ogier, promptly disengaging himself, pressed bruhier with so much impetuosity that he drove him to a distance from his horse, to whose saddle-bow the precious balm was suspended; and very soon charlemagne saw ogier, now completely in the advantage, bring his enemy to his knees, tear off his helmet, and, with a sweep of his sword, strike his head from his body. after the victory, ogier seized marchevallee, leaped upon his back, and became possessed of the precious flask, a few drops from which closed his wounds and restored his strength. the french knights who had been bruhier's captives, now released, pressed round ogier to thank him for their deliverance. charlemagne and his nobles, as soon as their attention was relieved from the single combat, perceived from their elevated position an unusual agitation in the enemy's camp. they attributed it at first to the death of their general, but soon the noise of arms, the cries of combatants, and new standards which advanced, disclosed to them the fact that bruhier's army was attacked by a new enemy. the emperor was right; it was the brave carahue of mauritania, who, with an army, had arrived in france, resolved to attempt the liberation of ogier, his brother in arms. learning on his arrival the changed aspect of affairs, he hesitated not to render a signal service to the emperor, by attacking the army of bruhier in the midst of the consternation occasioned by the loss of its commander. ogier recognized the standard of his friend, and leaping upon marchevallee, flew to aid his attack. charlemagne followed with his army; and the saracen host, after an obstinate conflict, was forced to surrender unconditionally. the interview of ogier and carahue was such as might be anticipated of two such attached friends and accomplished knights. charlemagne went to meet them, embraced them, and putting the king of mauritania on his right and ogier on his left, returned with triumph to paris. there the empress bertha and the ladies of her court crowned them with laurels, and the sage and gallant eginhard, chamberlain and secretary of the emperor, wrote all these great events in his history. a few days after guyon, king of denmark, arrived in france with a chosen band of knights, and sent an ambassador to charlemagne, to say that he came, not as an enemy, but to render homage to him as the best knight of the time and the head of the christian world. charlemagne gave the ambassador a cordial reception, and mounting his horse, rode forward to meet the king of denmark. these great princes, being assembled at the court of charles, held council together, and the ancient and sage barons were called to join it. it was decided that the united danish and mauritanian armies should cross the sea and carry the war to the country of the saracens, and that a thousand french knights should range themselves under the banner of ogier, the dane, who, though not a king, should have equal rank with the two others. we have not space to record all the illustrious actions performed by ogier and his allies in this war. suffice it to say, they subdued the saracens of ptolemais and judaea, and, erecting those regions into a kingdom, placed the crown upon the head of ogier. guyon and carahue then left him, to return to their respective dominions. ogier adopted walter, the son of guyon of denmark, to be his successor in his kingdom. he superintended his education, and saw the young prince grow up worthy of his cares. but ogier, in spite of all the honors of his rank, often regretted the court of charlemagne, the duke namo, and salomon of brittany, for whom he had the respect and attachment of a son. at last, finding walter old enough to sustain the weight of government, ogier caused a vessel to be prepared secretly, and, attended only by one squire, left his palace by night, and embarked to return to france. the vessel, driven by a fair wind, cut the sea with the swiftness of a bird; but on a sudden it deviated from its course, no longer obeyed the helm, and sped fast towards a black promontory which stretched into the sea. this was a mountain of loadstone, and, its attractive power increasing as the distance diminished, the vessel at last flew with the swiftness of an arrow towards it, and was dashed to pieces on its rocky base. ogier alone saved himself, and reached the shore on a fragment of the wreck. ogier advanced into the country, looking for some marks of inhabitancy, but found none. on a sudden he encountered two monstrous animals, covered with glittering scales, accompanied by a horse breathing fire. ogier drew his sword and prepared to defend himself; but the monsters, terrific as they appeared, made no attempt to assail him, and the horse, papillon, knelt down, and appeared to court ogier to mount upon his back. ogier hesitated not to see the adventure through; he mounted papillon, who ran with speed, and soon cleared the rocks and precipices which hemmed in and concealed a beautiful landscape. he continued his course till he reached a magnificent palace, and, without allowing ogier time to admire it, crossed a grand court-yard adorned with colonnades, and entered a garden, where, making his way through alleys of myrtle, he checked his course, and knelt down on the enamelled turf of a fountain. ogier dismounted and took some steps along the margin of the stream, but was soon stopped by meeting a young beauty, such as they paint the graces, and almost as lightly attired as they. at the same moment, to his amazement, his armor fell off of its own accord. the young beauty advanced with a tender air, and placed upon his head a crown of flowers. at that instant the danish hero lost his memory; his combats, his glory, charlemagne and his court, all vanished from his mind; he saw only morgana, he desired nothing but to sigh forever at her feet. we abridge the narrative of all the delights which ogier enjoyed for more than a hundred years. time flew by, leaving no impression of its flight. morgana's youthful charms did not decay, and ogier had none of those warnings of increasing years which less favored mortals never fail to receive. there is no knowing how long this blissful state might have lasted, if it had not been for an accident, by which morgana one day, in a sportive moment, snatched the crown from his head. that moment ogier regained his memory, and lost his contentment. the recollection of charlemagne, and of his own relatives and friends, saddened the hours which he passed with morgana. the fairy saw with grief the changed looks of her lover. at last she drew from him the acknowledgment that he wished to go, at least for a time, to revisit charles's court. she consented with reluctance, and with her own hands helped to reinvest him with his armor. papillon was led forth, ogier mounted him, and, taking a tender adieu of the tearful morgana, crossed at rapid speed the rocky belt which separated morgana's palace from the borders of the sea. the sea-goblins which had received him at his coming awaited him on the shore. one of them took ogier on his back, and the other placing himself under papillon, they spread their broad fins, and in a short time traversed the wide space that separates the isle of avalon from france. they landed ogier on the coast of languedoc, and then plunged into the sea and disappeared. ogier remounted on papillon, who carried him across the kingdom almost as fast as he had passed the sea. he arrived under the walls of paris, which he would scarcely have recognized if the high towers of st. genevieve had not caught his eye. he went straight to the palace of charlemagne, which seemed to him to have been entirely rebuilt. his surprise was extreme, and increased still more on finding that he understood with difficulty the language of the guards and attendants in replying to his questions; and seeing them smile as they tried to explain to one another the language in which he addressed them. presently the attention of some of the barons who were going to court was attracted to the scene, and ogier, who recognized the badges of their rank, addressed them, and inquired if the dukes namo and salomon were still residing at the emperor's court. at this question the barons looked at one another in amazement; and one of the eldest said to the rest, "how much this knight resembles the portrait of my grand-uncle, ogier the dane." "ah! my dear nephew, i am ogier the dane," said he; and he remembered that morgana had told him that he was little aware of the flight of time during his abode with her. the barons, more astonished than ever, concluded to conduct him to the monarch who then reigned, the great hugh capet. the brave ogier entered the palace without hesitation; but when, on reaching the royal hall, the barons directed him to make his obeisance to the king of france, he was astonished to see a man of short stature and large head, whose air, nevertheless, was noble and martial, seated upon the throne on which he had so often seen charlemagne, the tallest and handsomest sovereign of his time. ogier recounted his adventures with simplicity and affectedness. hugh capet was slow to believe him; but ogier recalled so many proofs and circumstances, that at last he was forced to recognize the aged warrior to be the famous ogier the dane. the king informed ogier of the events which had taken place during his long absence; that the line of charlemagne was extinct; that a new dynasty had commenced; that the old enemies of the kingdom, the saracens, were still troublesome; and that at that very time an army of those miscreants was besieging the city of chartres, to which he was about to repair in a few days to its relief. ogier, always inflamed with the love of glory, offered the service of his arm, which the illustrious monarch accepted graciously, and conducted him to the queen. the astonishment of ogier was redoubled when he saw the new ornaments and head-dresses of the ladies; still, the beautiful hair which they built up on their foreheads, and the feathers interwoven, which waved with so much grace, gave them a noble air that delighted him. his admiration increased when, instead of the old empress bertha, he saw a young queen who combined a majestic mien with the graces of her time of life, and manners candid and charming, suited to attach all hearts. ogier saluted the youthful queen with a respect so profound that many of the courtiers took him for a foreigner, or at least for some nobleman brought up at a distance from paris, who retained the manners of what they called the old court. when the queen was informed by her husband that it was the celebrated ogier the dane whom he presented to her, whose memorable exploits she had often read in the chronicles of antiquity, her surprise was extreme, which was increased when she remarked the dignity of his address, the animation and even the youthfulness of his countenance. this queen had too much intelligence to believe hastily; proof alone could compel her assent; and she asked him many questions about the old court of charlemagne, and received such instructive and appropriate answers as removed every doubt. it is to the corrections which ogier was at that time enabled to make to the popular narratives of his exploits that we are indebted for the perfect accuracy and trustworthiness of all the details of our own history. king hugh capet, having received that same evening couriers from the inhabitants of chartres, informing him that they were hard pressed by the besiegers, resolved to hasten with ogier to their relief. ogier terminated this affair as expeditiously as he had so often done others. the saracens having dared to offer battle, he bore the oriflamme through the thickest of their ranks; papillon, breathing fire from his nostrils, threw them into disorder, and cortana, wielded by his invincible arm, soon finished their overthrow. the king, victorious over the saracens, led back the danish hero to paris, where the deliverer of france received the honors due to his valor. ogier continued some time at the court, detained by the favor of the king and queen; but erelong he had the pain to witness the death of the king. then it was that, impressed with all the perfections which he had discerned in the queen, he could not withhold the tender homage of the offer of his hand. the queen would perhaps have accepted it, she had even called a meeting of her great barons to deliberate on the proposition, when, the day before the meeting was to be held, at the moment when ogier was kneeling at her feet, she perceived a crown of gold which an invisible hand had placed on his brow, and in an instant a cloud enveloped ogier, and he disappeared forever from her sight. it was morgana, the fairy, whose jealousy was awakened at what she beheld, who now resumed her power, and took him away to dwell with her in the island of avalon. there, in company with the great king arthur of britain, he still lives, and when his illustrious friend shall return to resume his ancient reign he will doubtless return with him, and share his triumph. glossary abdalrahman, founder of the independent ommiad (saracenic) power in spain, conquered at tours by charles martel. aberfraw, scene of nuptials of branwen and matholch. absyrtus, younger brother of medea. abydos, a town on the hellespont, nearly opposite to sestos. abyla, mount, or columna, a mountain in morocco, near ceuta, now called jebel musa or ape's hill, forming the northwestern extremity of the african coast opposite gibraltar (see pillars of hercules). acestes, son of a trojan woman who was sent by her father to sicily, that she might not be devoured by the monsters which infested the territory of troy. acetes, bacchanal captured by pentheus. achates, faithful friend and companion of aeneas. achelous, river-god of the largest river in greece--his horn of plenty. achilles, the hero of the iliad, son of peleus and of the nereid thetis, slain by paris. acis, youth loved by galatea and slain by polyphemus. acontius, a beautiful youth, who fell in love with cydippe, the daughter of a noble athenian. acrisius, son of abas, king of argos, grandson of lynceus, the great-grandson of danaus. actaeon, a celebrated huntsman, son of aristaeus and autonoe, who, having seen diana bathing, was changed by her to a stag and killed by his own dogs. admeta, daughter of eurystheus, covets hippolyta's girdle. admetus, king of thessaly, saved from death by alcestis. adonis, a youth beloved by aphrodite (venus), and proserpine; killed by a boar. adrastus, a king of argos. aeacus, son of zeus (jupiter) and aegina, renowned in all greece for his justice and piety. aeaea, circe's island, visited by ulysses. aeetes, or aeeta, son of helios (the sun) and perseis, and father of medea and absyrtus. aegeus, king of athens. aegina, a rocky island in the middle of the saronic gulf. aegis, shield or breastplate of jupiter and minerva. aegisthus, murderer of agamemnon, slain by orestes. aeneas, trojan hero, son of anchises and aphrodite (venus), and born on mount ida, reputed first settler of rome. aeneid, poem by virgil, relating the wanderings of aeneas from troy to italy. ae'olus, son of hellen and the nymph orseis, represented in homer as the happy ruler of the aeolian islands, to whom zeus had given dominion over the winds. aesculapius, god of the medical art. aeson, father of jason, made young again by medea. aethiopians, inhabitants of the country south of egypt. aethra, mother of theseus by aegeus. aetna, volcano in sicily. agamedes, brother of trophonius, distinguished as an architect. agamemnon, son of plisthenis and grandson of atreus, king of mycenae, although the chief commander of the greeks, is not the hero of the iliad, and in chivalrous spirit altogether inferior to achilles. agave, daughter of cadmus, wife of echion, and mother of pentheus. agenor, father of europa, cadmus, cilix, and phoenix. aglaia, one of the graces. agni, hindu god of fire. agramant, a king in africa. agrican, fabled king of tartary, pursuing angelica, finally killed by orlando. agrivain, one of arthur's knights. ahriman, the evil spirit in the dual system of zoroaster, see ormuzd ajax, son of telamon, king of salamis, and grandson of aeacus, represented in the iliad as second only to achilles in bravery. alba, the river where king arthur fought the romans. alba longa, city in italy founded by son of aeneas. alberich, dwarf guardian of rhine gold treasure of the nibelungs albracca, siege of. alcestis, wife of admetus, offered hersell as sacrifice to spare her husband, but rescued by hercules. alcides (hercules). alcina, enchantress. alcinous, phaeacian king. alcippe, daughter of mars, carried off by halirrhothrus. alcmena, wife of jupiter, and mother of hercules. alcuin, english prelate and scholar. aldrovandus, dwarf guardian of treasure. alecto, one of the furies. alexander the great, king of macedonia, conqueror of greece, egypt, persia, babylonia, and india. alfadur, a name for odin. alfheim, abode of the elves of light. alice, mother of huon and girard, sons of duke sevinus. alphenor, son of niobe. alpheus, river god pursuing arethusa, who escaped by being changed to a fountain. althaea, mother of meleager, whom she slew because he had in a quarrel killed her brothers, thus disgracing "the house of thestius," her father. amalthea, nurse of the infant jupiter in crete. amata, wife of latinus, driven mad by alecto. amaury of hauteville, false hearted knight of charlemagne. amazons, mythical race of warlike women. ambrosia, celestial food used by the gods. ammon, egyptian god of life identified by romans with phases of jupiter, the father of gods. amphiaraus, a great prophet and hero at argos. amphion, a musician, son of jupiter and antiope (see dirce). amphitrite, wife of neptune. amphyrsos, a small river in thessaly. ampyx, assailant of perseus, turned to stone by seeing gorgon's head. amrita, nectar giving immortality. amun, see ammon amymone, one of the fifty daughters of danaus, and mother by poseidon (neptune) of nauplius, the father of palamedes. anaxarete, a maiden of cyprus, who treated her lover iphis with such haughtiness that he hanged himself at her door. anbessa, saracenic governor of spain (725 ad). anceus, one of the argonauts. anchises, beloved by aphrodite (venus), by whom he became the father of aeneas. andraemon, husband of dryope, saw her changed into a tree. andret, a cowardly knight, spy upon tristram. andromache, wife of hector andromeda, daughter of king cephas, delivered from monster by perseus aneurin, welsh bard angelica, princess of cathay anemone, short lived wind flower, created by venus from the blood of the slain adonis angerbode, giant prophetess, mother of fenris, hela and the midgard serpent anglesey, a northern british island, refuge of druids fleeing from romans antaeus, giant wrestler of libya, killed by hercules, who, finding him stronger when thrown to the earth, lifted him into the air and strangled him antea, wife of jealous proetus antenor, descendants of, in italy anteros, deity avenging unrequited love, brother of eros (cupid) anthor, a greek antigone, daughter of aedipus, greek ideal of filial and sisterly fidelity antilochus, son of nestor antiope, amazonian queen. see dirce anubis, egyptian god, conductor of the dead to judgment apennines aphrodite see venus, dione, etc. apis, egyptian bull god of memphis apollo, god of music and song apollo belvedere, famous antique statue in vatican at rome apples of the hesperides, wedding gifts to juno, guarded by daughters of atlas and hesperis, stolen by atlas for hercules. aquilo, or boreas, the north wind. aquitaine, ancient province of southwestern france. arachne, a maiden skilled in weaving, changed to a spider by minerva for daring to compete with her. arcadia, a country in the middle of peloponnesus, surrounded on all sides by mountains. arcady, star of, the pole star. arcas, son of jupiter and callisto. archer, constellation of the. areopagus, court of the, at athens. ares, called mars by the romans, the greek god of war, and one of the great olympian gods. arethusa, nymph of diana, changed to a fountain. argius king of ireland, father of isoude the fair. argo, builder of the vessel of jason for the argonautic expedition. argolis, city of the nemean games. argonauts, jason's crew seeking the golden fleece. argos, a kingdom in greece. argus, of the hundred eyes, guardian of io. ariadne, daughter of king minos, who helped theseus slay the minotaur. arimanes see ahriman. arimaspians, one-eyed people of syria. arion, famous musician, whom sailors cast into the sea to rob him, but whose lyric song charmed the dolphins, one of which bore him safely to land. aristaeus, the bee keeper, in love with eurydice. armorica, another name for britain. arridano, a magical ruffian, slain by orlando. artemis see diana arthgallo, brother of elidure, british king. arthur, king in britain about the 6th century. aruns, an etruscan who killed camilla. asgard, home of the northern gods. ashtaroth, a cruel spirit, called by enchantment to bring rinaldo to death. aske, the first man, made from an ash tree. astolpho of england, one of charlemagne's knights. astraea, goddess of justice, daughter of astraeus and eos. astyages, an assailant of perseus. astyanax, son of hector of troy, established kingdom of messina in italy. asuias, opponents of the braminical gods. atalanta, beautiful daughter of king of icaria, loved and won in a foot race by hippomenes. ate, the goddess of infatuation, mischief and guilt. athamas, son of aeolus and enarete, and king of orchomenus, in boeotia, see ino athene, tutelary goddess of athens, the same as minerva. athens, the capital of attica, about four miles from the sea, between the small rivers cephissus and ilissus. athor, egyptian deity, progenitor of isis and osiris. athos, the mountainous peninsula, also called acte, which projects from chalcidice in macedonia. atlantes, foster father of rogero, a powerful magician. atlantis, according to an ancient tradition, a great island west of the pillars of hercules, in the ocean, opposite mount atlas. atlas, a titan, who bore the heavens on his shoulders, as punishment for opposing the gods, one of the sons of iapetus. atlas, mount, general name for range in northern africa. atropos, one of the fates attica, a state in ancient greece. audhumbla, the cow from which the giant ymir was nursed. her milk was frost melted into raindrops. augean stables, cleansed by hercules. augeas, king of elis. augustan age, reign of roman emperor augustus caesar, famed for many great authors. augustus, the first imperial caesar, who ruled the roman empire 31 bc--14 ad. aulis, port in boeotia, meeting place of greek expedition against troy. aurora, identical with eos, goddess of the dawn. aurora borealis, splendid nocturnal luminosity in northern sky, called northern lights, probably electrical. autumn, attendant of phoebus, the sun. avalon, land of the blessed, an earthly paradise in the western seas, burial place of king arthur. avatar, name for any of the earthly incarnations of vishnu, the preserver (hindu god). aventine, mount, one of the seven hills of rome. avernus, a miasmatic lake close to the promontory between cumae and puteoli, filling the crater of an extinct volcano, by the ancients thought to be the entrance to the infernal regions. avicenna, celebrated arabian physician and philosopher. aya, mother of rinaldo. aymon, duke, father of rinaldo and bradamante. b baal, king of tyre. babylonian river, dried up when phaeton drove the sun chariot. bacchanali a, a feast to bacchus that was permitted to occur but once in three years, attended by most shameless orgies. bacchanals, devotees and festal dancers of bacchus. bacchus (dionysus), god of wine and revelry. badon, battle of, arthur's final victory over the saxons. bagdemagus, king, a knight of arthur's time. baldur, son of odin, and representing in norse mythology the sun god. balisardo, orlando's sword. ban, king of brittany, ally of arthur, father of launcelot. bards, minstrels of welsh druids. basilisk see cockatrice baucis, wife of philemon, visited by jupiter and mercury. bayard, wild horse subdued by rinaldo. beal, druids' god of life. bedivere, arthur's knight. bedver, king arthur's butler, made governor of normandy. bedwyr, knightly comrade of geraint. belisarda, rogero's sword. bellerophon, demigod, conqueror of the chimaera. bellona, the roman goddess of war, represented as the sister or wife of mars. beltane, druidical fire festival. belus, son of poseidon (neptune) and libya or eurynome, twin brother of agenor. bendigeid vran, king of britain. beowulf, hero and king of the swedish geats. beroe, nurse of semele. bertha, mother of orlando. bifrost, rainbow bridge between the earth and asgard bladud, inventor, builder of the city of bath. blamor, a knight of arthur. bleoberis, a knight of arthur. boeotia, state in ancient greece, capital city thebes. bohort, king, a knight of arthur. bona dea, a roman divinity of fertility. bootes, also called areas, son of jupiter and calisto, changed to constellation of ursa major. boreas, north wind, son of aeolus and aurora. bosporus (bosphorus), the cow-ford, named for io, when as a heifer she crossed that strait. bradamante, sister to rinaldo, a female warrior. brademagus, king, father of sir maleagans. bragi, norse god of poetry. brahma, the creator, chief god of hindu religion. branwen, daughter of llyr, king of britain, wife of mathclch. breciliande, forest of, where vivian enticed merlin. brengwain, maid of isoude the fair brennus, son of molmutius, went to gaul, became king of the allobroges. breuse, the pitiless, a caitiff knight. briareus, hundred armed giant. brice, bishop, sustainer of arthur when elected king. brigliadoro, orlando's horse. briseis, captive maid belonging to achilles. britto, reputed ancestor of british people. bruhier, sultan of arabia. brunello, dwarf, thief, and king brunhild, leader of the valkyrie. brutus, great grandson of aeneas, and founder of city of new troy (london), see pandrasus bryan, sir, a knight of arthur. buddha, called the enlightened, reformer of brahmanism, deified teacher of self abnegation, virtue, reincarnation, karma (inevitable sequence of every act), and nirvana (beatific absorption into the divine), lived about byblos, in egypt. byrsa, original site of carthage. c cacus, gigantic son of vulcan, slain by hercules, whose captured cattle he stole. cadmus, son of agenor, king of phoenicia, and of telephassa, and brother of europa, who, seeking his sister, carried off by jupiter, had strange adventures--sowing in the ground teeth of a dragon he had killed, which sprang up armed men who slew each other, all but five, who helped cadmus to found the city of thebes. caduceus, mercury's staff. cadwallo, king of venedotia (north wales). caerleon, traditional seat of arthur's court. caesar, julius, roman lawyer, general, statesman and author, conquered and consolidated roman territory, making possible the empire. caicus, a greek river. cairns, druidical store piles. calais, french town facing england. calchas, wisest soothsayer among the greeks at troy. caliburn, a sword of arthur. calliope, one of the nine muses callisto, an arcadian nymph, mother of arcas (see bootes), changed by jupiter to constellation ursa minor. calpe, a mountain in the south of spain, on the strait between the atlantic and mediterranean, now rock of gibraltar. calydon, home of meleager. calypso, queen of island of ogyia, where ulysses was wrecked and held seven years. camber, son of brutus, governor of west albion (wales). camelot, legendary place in england where arthur's court and palace were located. camenae, prophetic nymphs, belonging to the religion of ancient italy. camilla, volscian maiden, huntress and amazonian warrior, favorite of diana. camlan, battle of, where arthur was mortally wounded. canterbury, english city. capaneus, husband of evadne, slain by jupiter for disobedience. capet, hugh, king of france (987-996 ad). caradoc briefbras, sir, great nephew of king arthur. carahue, king of mauretania. carthage, african city, home of dido cassandra, daughter of priam and hecuba, and twin sister of helenus, a prophetess, who foretold the coming of the greeks but was not believed. cassibellaunus, british chieftain, fought but not conquered by caesar. cassiopeia, mother of andromeda. castalia, fountain of parnassus, giving inspiration to oracular priestess named pythia. castalian cave, oracle of apollo. castes (india). castor and pollux--the dioscuri, sons of jupiter and leda,--castor a horseman, pollux a boxer (see gemini). caucasus, mount cavall, arthur's favorite dog. cayster, ancient river. cebriones, hector's charioteer. cecrops, first king of athens. celestials, gods of classic mythology. celeus, shepherd who sheltered ceres, seeking proserpine, and whose infant son triptolemus was in gratitude made great by ceres. cellini, benvenuto, famous italian sculptor and artificer in metals. celtic nations, ancient gauls and britons, modern bretons, welsh, irish and gaelic scotch. centaurs, originally an ancient race, inhabiting mount pelion in thessaly, in later accounts represented as half horses and half men, and said to have been the offspring of ixion and a cloud. cephalus, husband of beautiful but jealous procris. cephe us, king of ethiopians, father of andromeda. cephisus, a grecian stream. cerberus, three-headed dog that guarded the entrance to hades, called a son of typhaon and echidna ceres (see demeter) cestus, the girdle of venus ceyx, king of thessaly (see halcyone) chaos, original confusion, personified by greeks as most ancient of the gods charlemagne, king of the franks and emperor of the romans charles martel', king of the franks, grandfather of charlemagne, called martel (the hammer) from his defeat of the saracens at tours charlot, son of charlemagne charon, son of erebos, conveyed in his boat the shades of the dead across the rivers of the lower world charyb'dis, whirlpool near the coast of sicily, see scylla chimaera, a fire breathing monster, the fore part of whose body was that of a lion, the hind part that of a dragon, and the middle that of a goat, slain by bellerophon china, lamas (priests) of chos, island in the grecian archipelago chiron, wisest of all the centaurs, son of cronos (saturn) and philyra, lived on mount pelion, instructor of grecian heroes chryseis, trojan maid, taken by agamemnon chryses, priest of apollo, father of chryseis ciconians, inhabitants of ismarus, visited by ulysses cimbri, an ancient people of central europe cimmeria, a land of darkness cimon, athenian general circe, sorceress, sister of aeetes cithaeron, mount, scene of bacchic worship clarimunda, wife of huon clio, one of the muses cloridan, a moor clotho, one of the fates clymene, an ocean nymph clytemnestra, wife of agamemnon, killed by orestes clytie, a water nymph, in love with apollo cnidos, ancient city of asia minor, seat of worship of aphrodite (venus) cockatrice (or basilisk), called king of serpents, supposed to kill with its look cocytus, a river of hades colchis, a kingdom east of the black sea colophon, one of the seven cities claiming the birth of homer columba, st, an irish christian missionary to druidical parts of scotland conan, welsh king constantine, greek emperor cordeilla, daughter of the mythical king leir corineus, a trojan warrior in albion cornwall, southwest part of britain cortana, ogier's sword corybantes, priests of cybele, or rhea, in phrygia, who celebrated her worship with dances, to the sound of the drum and the cymbal, 143 crab, constellation cranes and their enemies, the pygmies, of ibycus creon, king of thebes crete, one of the largest islands of the mediterranean sea, lying south of the cyclades creusa, daughter of priam, wife of aeneas crocale, a nymph of diana cromlech, druidical altar cronos, see saturn crotona, city of italy cuchulain, irish hero, called the "hound of ireland," culdees', followers of st. columba, cumaean sibyl, seeress of cumae, consulted by aeneas, sold sibylline books to tarquin cupid, child of venus and god of love curoi of kerry, wise man cyane, river, opposed pluto's passage to hades cybele (rhea) cyclopes, creatures with circular eyes, of whom homer speaks as a gigantic and lawless race of shepherds in sicily, who devoured human beings, they helped vulcan to forge the thunderbolts of zeus under aetna cymbeline, king of ancient britain cynosure (dog's tail), the pole star, at tail of constellation ursa minor cynthian mountain top, birthplace of artemis (diana) and apollo cyprus, island off the coast of syria, sacred to aphrodite cyrene, a nymph, mother of aristaeus d daedalus, architect of the cretan labyrinth, inventor of sails daguenet, king arthur's fool dalai lama, chief pontiff of thibet danae, mother of perseus by jupiter danaides, the fifty daughters of danaus, king of argos, who were betrothed to the fifty sons of aegyptus, but were commanded by their father to slay each her own husband on the marriage night danaus (see danaides) daphne, maiden loved by apollo, and changed into a laurel tree dardanelles, ancient hellespont dardanus, progenitor of the trojan kings dardinel, prince of zumara dawn, see aurora day, an attendant on phoebus, the sun day star (hesperus) death, see hela deiphobus, son of priam and hecuba, the bravest brother of paris dejanira, wife of hercules delos, floating island, birthplace of apollo and diana delphi, shrine of apollo, famed for its oracles demeter, greek goddess of marriage and human fertility, identified by romans with ceres demeha, south wales demodocus, bard of alomous, king of the phaeaeians deucalion, king of thessaly, who with his wife pyrrha were the only pair surviving a deluge sent by zeus dia, island of diana (artemis), goddess of the moon and of the chase, daughter of jupiter and latona diana of the hind, antique sculpture in the louvre, paris diana, temple of dictys, a sailor didier, king of the lombards dido, queen of tyre and carthage, entertained the shipwrecked aeneas diomede, greek hero during trojan war dione, female titan, mother of zeus, of aphrodite (venus) dionysus see bacchus dioscuri, the twins (see castor and pollux) dirce, wife of lycus, king of thebes, who ordered amphion and zethus to tie antiope to a wild bull, but they, learning antiope to be their mother, so treated dirce herself dis see pluto discord, apple of, see eris. discordia, see eris. dodona, site of an oracle of zeus (jupiter) dorceus, a dog of diana doris, wife of nereus dragon's teeth sown by cadmus druids, ancient celtic priests dryades (or dryads), see wood nymphs dryope, changed to a lotus plant, for plucking a lotus--enchanted form of the nymph lotis dubricius, bishop of caerleon. dudon, a knight, comrade of astolpho. dunwallo molmu'tius, british king and lawgiver durindana, sword of orlando or rinaldo dwarfs in wagner's nibelungen ring e earth (gaea); goddess of the ebudians, the echo, nymph of diana, shunned by narcissus, faded to nothing but a voice ecklenlied, the eddas, norse mythological records. ederyn, son of nudd egena, nymph of the fountain eisteddfod, session of welsh bards and minstrels electra, the lost one of the pleiades, also, sister of orestes eleusian mysteries, instituted by ceres, and calculated to awaken feelings of piety and a cheerful hope of better life in the future eleusis, grecian city elgin marbles, greek sculptures from the parthenon of athens, now in british museum, london, placed there by lord elgin eliaures, enchanter elidure, a king of britain elis, ancient greek city elli, old age; the one successful wrestler against thor elphin, son of gwyddiro elves, spiritual beings, of many powers and dispositions--some evil, some good elvidnir, the ball of hela elysian fields, the land of the blest elysian plain, whither the favored of the gods were taken without death elysium, a happy land, where there is neither snow, nor cold, nor ram. hither favored heroes, like menelaus, pass without dying, and live happy under the rule of rhadamanthus. in the latin poets elysium is part of the lower world, and the residence of the shades of the blessed embla, the first woman enseladus, giant defeated by jupiter endymion, a beautiful youth beloved by diana enid, wife of geraint enna, vale of home of proserpine enoch, the patriarch epidaurus, a town in argolis, on the saronic gulf, chief seat of the worship of aeculapius, whose temple was situated near the town epimetheus, son of iapetus, husband of pandora, with his brother prometheus took part in creation of man epirus, country to the west of thessaly, lying along the adriatic sea epopeus, a sailor erato, one of the muses erbin of cornwall, father of geraint erebus, son of chaos, region of darkness, entrance to hades eridanus, river erinys, one of the furies eriphyle, sister of polynices, bribed to decide on war, in which her husband was slain eris (discordia), goddess of discord. at the wedding of peleus and thetis, eris being uninvited threw into the gathering an apple "for the fairest," which was claimed by hera (juno), aphrodite (venus) and athena (minerva) paris, being called upon for judgment, awarded it to aphrodite erisichthon, an unbeliever, punished by famine eros see cupid erytheia, island eryx, a mount, haunt of venus esepus, river in paphlagonia estrildis, wife of locrine, supplanting divorced guendolen eteocles, son of oeipus and jocasta etruscans, ancient people of italy. etzel, king of the huns euboic sea, where hercules threw lichas, who brought him the poisoned shirt of nessus eude, king of aquitaine, ally of charles martel eumaeus, swineherd of aeeas eumenides, also called erinnyes, and by the romans furiae or diraae, the avenging deities, see furies euphorbus, a trojan, killed by menelaus euphros'yne, one of the graces europa, daughter of the phoenician king agenor, by zeus the mother of minos, rhadamanthus, and sarpedon eurus, the east wind euyalus, a gallant trojan soldier, who with nisus entered the grecian camp, both being slain. eurydice, wife of orpheus, who, fleeing from an admirer, was killed by a snake and borne to tartarus, where orpheus sought her and was permitted to bring her to earth if he would not look back at her following him, but he did, and she returned to the shades. eurylochus, a companion of ulysses. eurynome, female titan, wife of ophlon eurystheus, taskmaster of hercules. eurytion, a centaur (see hippodamia). euterpe, muse who presided over music. evadne, wife of capaneus, who flung herself upon his funeral pile and perished with him evander, arcadian chief, befriending aeneas in italy. evnissyen, quarrelsome brother of branwen. excalibar, sword of king arthur. f fafner, a giant turned dragon, treasure stealer, by the solar theory simply the darkness who steals the day. falerina, an enchantress. fasolt, a giant, brother of fafner, and killed by him. "fasti," ovid's, a mythological poetic calendar. fata morgana, a mirage fates, the three, described as daughters of night--to indicate the darkness and obscurity of human destiny--or of zeus and themis, that is, "daughters of the just heavens" they were clo'tho, who spun the thread of life, lach'esis, who held the thread and fixed its length and at'ropos, who cut it off fauns, cheerful sylvan deities, represented in human form, with small horns, pointed ears, and sometimes goat's tail faunus, son of picus, grandson of saturnus, and father of latinus, worshipped as the protecting deity of agriculture and of shepherds, and also as a giver of oracles favonius, the west wind fear fenris, a wolf, the son of loki the evil principle of scandinavia, supposed to have personated the element of fire, destructive except when chained fensalir, freya's palace, called the hall of the sea, where were brought together lovers, husbands, and wives who had been separated by death ferragus, a giant, opponent of orlando ferrau, one of charlemagne's knights ferrex. brother of porrex, the two sons of leir fire worshippers, of ancient persia, see parsees flollo, roman tribune in gaul flora, roman goddess of flowers and spring flordelis, fair maiden beloved by florismart florismart, sir, a brave knight. flosshilda, one of the rhine daughters fortunate fields fortunate islands (see elysian plain) forum, market place and open square for public meetings in rome, surrounded by court houses, palaces, temples, etc francus, son of histion, grandson of japhet, great grandson of noah, legendary ancestor of the franks, or french freki, one of odin's two wolves frey, or freyr, god of the sun freya, norse goddess of music, spring, and flowers fricka, goddess of marriage frigga, goddess who presided over smiling nature, sending sunshine, rain, and harvest froh, one of the norse gods fronti'no, rogero's horse furies (erinnyes), the three retributive spirits who punished crime, represented as snaky haired old woman, named alecto, megaeira, and tisiphone fusberta, rinaldo's sword g gaea, or ge, called tellus by the romans, the personification of the earth, described as the first being that sprang fiom chaos, and gave birth to uranus (heaven) and pontus (sea) gahariet, knight of arthur's court gaheris, knight galafron, king of cathay, father of angelica galahad, sir, the pure knight of arthur's round table, who safely took the siege perilous (which see) galatea, a nereid or sea nymph galatea, statue carved and beloved by pygmalion galen, greek physician and philosophical writer gallehant, king of the marches games, national athletic contests in greece--olympian, at olympia, pythian, near delphi, seat of apollo's oracle, isthmian, on the corinthian isthmus, nemean, at nemea in argolis gan, treacherous duke of maganza ganelon of mayence, one of charlemagne's knights ganges, river in india gano, a peer of charlemagne ganymede, the most beautiful of all mortals, carried off to olympus that he might fill the cup of zeus and live among the immortal gods gareth, arthur's knight gaudisso, sultan gaul, ancient france gautama, prince, the buddha gawain, arthur's knight gawl, son of clud, suitor for rhiannon gemini (see castor), constellation created by jupiter from the twin brothers after death, 158 genghis khan, tartar conqueror genius, in roman belief, the protective spirit of each individual man, see juno geoffrey of mon'mouth, translator into latin of the welsh history of the kings of britain (1150) geraint, a knight of king arthur gerda, wife of frey geri, one of odin's two wolves geryon, a three bodied monster gesnes, navigator sent for isoude the fair giallar horn, the trumpet that heimdal will blow at the judgment day giants, beings of monstrous size and of fearful countenances, represented as in constant opposition to the gods, in wagner's nibelungen ring gibichung race, ancestors of alberich gibraltar, great rock and town at southwest corner of spain (see pillars of hercules) gildas, a scholar of arthur's court girard, son of duke sevinus glastonbury, where arthur died glaucus, a fisherman, loving scylla gleipnir, magical chain on the wolf fenris glewlwyd, arthur's porter golden fleece, of ram used for escape of children of athamas, named helle and phryxus (which see), after sacrifice of ram to jupiter, fleece was guarded by sleepless dragon and gained by jason and argonauts (which see, also helle) goneril, daughter of leir gordian knot, tying up in temple the wagon of gordius, he who could untie it being destined to be lord of asia, it was cut by alexander the great, 48 gordius, a countryman who, arriving in phrygia in a wagon, was made king by the people, thus interpreting an oracle, 48 gorgons, three monstrous females, with huge teeth, brazen claws and snakes for hair, sight of whom turned beholders to stone, medusa, the most famous, slain by perseus gorlois, duke of tintadel gouvernail, squire of isabella, queen of lionesse, protector of her son tristram while young, and his squire in knighthood graal, the holy, cup from which the saviour drank at last supper, taken by joseph of arimathea to europe, and lost, its recovery becoming a sacred quest for arthur's knights graces, three goddesses who enhanced the enjoyments of life by refinement and gentleness; they were aglaia (brilliance), euphrosyne (joy), and thalia (bloom) gradas'so, king of sericane graeae, three gray haired female watchers for the gorgons, with one movable eye and one tooth between the three grand lama, buddhist pontiff in thibet grendel, monster slain by beowulf gryphon (griffin), a fabulous animal, with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle, dwelling in the rhipaean mountains, between the hyperboreans and the one eyed arimaspians, and guarding the gold of the north. guebers, persian fire worshippers. guendolen, wife of locrine. guenevere, wife of king arthur, beloved by launcelot. guerin, lord of vienne, father of oliver. guiderius, son of cymbeline. guillamurius, king in ireland. guimier, betrothed of caradoc. gullinbursti, the boar drawing frey's car. gulltopp, heimdell's horse. gunfasius, king of the orkneys. ganther, burgundian king, brother of kriemhild. gutrune, half sister to hagen. gwern son of matholch and branwen. gwernach the giant. gwiffert petit, ally of geraint. gwyddno, garanhir, king of gwaelod. gwyr, judge in the court of arthur. gyoll, river. h hades, originally the god of the nether world--the name later used to designate the gloomy subterranean land of the dead. haemon, son of creon of thebes, and lover of antigone. haemonian city. haemus, mount, northern boundary of thrace. hagan, a principal character in the nibelungen lied, slayer of siegfried. halcyone, daughter of aeneas, and the beloved wife of ceyx, who, when he was drowned, flew to his floating body, and the pitying gods changed them both to birds (kingfishers), who nest at sea during a certain calm week in winter ("halcyon weather") hamadryads, tree-nymphs or wood-nymphs, see nymphs harmonia, daughter of mars and venus, wife of cadmus haroun al raschid, caliph of arabia, contemporary of charlemagne harpies, monsters, with head and bust of woman, but wings, legs and tail of birds, seizing souls of the wicked, or punishing evildoers by greedily snatching or defiling their food harpocrates, egyptian god, horus hebe, daughter of juno, cupbearer to the gods hebrus, ancient name of river maritzka hecate, a mighty and formidable divinity, supposed to send at night all kinds of demons and terrible phantoms from the lower world hector, son of priam and champion of troy hector, one of arthur's knights hector de marys', a knight hecuba, wife of priam, king of troy, to whom she bore hector, paris, and many other children hegira, flight of mahomet from mecca to medina (622 ad), era from which mahometans reckon time, as we do from the birth of christ heidrun, she goat, furnishing mead for slain heroes in valhalla heimdall, watchman of the gods hel, the lower world of scandinavia, to which were consigned those who had not died in battle hela (death), the daughter of loki and the mistress of the scandinavian hel helen, daughter of jupiter and leda, wife of menelaus, carried off by paris and cause of the trojan war helenus, son of priam and hecuba, celebrated for his prophetic powers heliades, sisters of phaeton helicon, mount, in greece, residence of apollo and the muses, with fountains of poetic inspiration, aganippe and hippocrene helioopolis, city of the sun, in egypt hellas, gieece helle, daughter of thessalian king athamas, who, escaping from cruel father with her brother phryxus, on ram with golden fleece, fell into the sea strait since named for her (see golden fleece) hellespont, narrow strait between europe and asia minor, named for helle hengist, saxon invader of britain, 449 ad hephaestos, see vulcan hera, called juno by the romans, a daughter of cronos (saturn) and rhea, and sister and wife of jupiter, see juno hercules, athletic hero, son of jupiter and alcmena, achieved twelve vast labors and many famous deeds hereward the wake, hero of the saxons hermes (mercury), messenger of the gods, deity of commerce, science, eloquence, trickery, theft, and skill generally hermione, daughter of menelaus and helen hermod, the nimble, son of odin hero, a priestess of venus, beloved of leander herodotus, greek historian hesiod, greek poet hesperia, ancient name for italy hesperides (see apples of the hesperides) hesperus, the evening star (also called day star) hestia, cilled vesta by the romans, the goddess of the hearth hildebrand, german magician and champion hindu triad, brahma, vishnu, and siva hippocrene (see helicon) hippodamia, wife of pirithous, at whose wedding the centaurs offered violence to the bride, causing a great battle hippogriff, winged horse, with eagle's head and claws hippolyta, queen of the amazons hippolytus, son of thesus hippomenes, who won atalanta in foot race, beguiling her with golden apples thrown for her to histion, son of japhet hodur, blind man, who, fooled by loki, threw a mistletoe twig at baldur, killing him hoel, king of brittany homer, the blind poet of greece, about 850 b c hope (see pandora) horae see hours horsa, with hengist, invader of britain horus, egyptian god of the sun houdain, tristram's dog hringham, baldur's ship hrothgar, king of denmark hugi, who beat thialfi in foot races hugin, one of odin's two ravens hunding, husband of sieglinda huon, son of duke sevinus hyacinthus, a youth beloved by apollo, and accidentally killed by him, changed in death to the flower, hyacinth hyades, nysaean nymphs, nurses of infant bacchus, rewarded by being placed as cluster of stars in the heavens hyale, a nymph of diana hydra, nine headed monster slain by hercules hygeia, goddess of health, daughter of aesculapius hylas, a youth detained by nymphs of spring where he sought water hymen, the god of marriage, imagined as a handsome youth and invoked in bridal songs hymettus, mountain in attica, near athens, celebrated for its marble and its honey hyperboreans, people of the far north hyperion, a titan, son of uranus and ge, and father of helios, selene, and eos, cattle of. hyrcania, prince of, betrothed to clarimunda hyrieus, king in greece. i iapetus, a titan, son of uranus and ge, and father of atlas, prometheus, epimetheus, and menoetius. iasius, father of atalanta ibycus, a poet, story of, and the cranes icaria, island of the aegean sea, one of the sporades icarius, spartan prince, father of penelope icarus, son of daedalus, he flew too near the sun with artificial wings, and, the wax melting, he fell into the sea icelos, attendant of morpheus icolumkill see iona ida, mount, a trojan hill idaeus, a trojan herald idas, son of aphareus and arene, and brother of lynceus idu'na, wife of bragi igerne, wife of gorlois, and mother, by uther, of arthur iliad, epic poem of the trojan war, by homer ilioheus, a son of niobe ilium see troy illyria, adriatic countries north of greece imogen, daughter of pandrasus, wife of trojan brutus inachus, son of oceanus and tethys, and father of phoroneus and io, also first king of argos, and said to have given his name to the river inachus incubus, an evil spirit, supposed to lie upon persons in their sleep indra, hindu god of heaven, thunder, lightning, storm and rain ino, wife of athamas, fleeing from whom with infant son she sprang into the sea and was changed to leucothea io, changed to a heifer by jupiter iobates, king of lycia iolaus, servant of hercules iole, sister of dryope iona, or icolmkill, a small northern island near scotland, where st columba founded a missionary monastery (563 ad) ionia, coast of asia minor iphigenia, daughter of agamemnon, offered as a sacrifice but carried away by diana iphis, died for love of anaxarete, 78 iphitas, friend of hercules, killed by him iris, goddess of the rainbow, messenger of juno and zeus ironside, arthur's knight isabella, daughter of king of galicia isis, wife of osiris, described as the giver of death isles of the blessed ismarus, first stop of ulysses, returning from trojan war isme'nos, a son of niobe, slain by apollo isolier, friend of rinaldo isoude the fair, beloved of tristram isoude of the white hands, married to tristram isthmian games, see games ithaca, home of ulysses and penelope iulus, son of aeneas ivo, saracen king, befriending rinaldo ixion, once a sovereign of thessaly, sentenced in tartarus to be lashed with serpents to a wheel which a strong wind drove continually around j janiculum, roman fortress on the janiculus, a hill on the other side of the tiber janus, a deity from the earliest times held in high estimation by the romans, temple of japhet (iapetus) jason, leader of the argonauts, seeking the golden fleece joseph of arimathea, who bore the holy graal to europe jotunheim, home of the giants in northern mythology jove (zeus), chief god of roman and grecian mythology, see jupiter joyous garde, residence of sir launcelot of the lake juggernaut, hindu deity juno, the particular guardian spirit of each woman (see genius) juno, wife of jupiter, queen of the gods jupiter, jovis pater, father jove, jupiter and jove used interchangeably, at dodona, statue of the olympian jupiter ammon (see ammon) jupiter capitolinus, temple of, preserving the sibylline books justice, see themis k kadyriath, advises king arthur kai, son of kyner kalki, tenth avatar of vishnu kay, arthur's steward and a knight kedalion, guide of orion kerman, desert of kicva, daughter of gwynn gloy kilwich, son of kilydd kilydd, son of prince kelyddon, of wales kneph, spirit or breath knights, training and life of kriemhild, wife of siegfried krishna, eighth avatar of vishnu, hindu deity of fertility in nature and mankind kyner, father of kav kynon, son of clydno l labyrinth, the enclosed maze of passageways where roamed the minotaur of crete, killed by theseus with aid of ariadne lachesis, one of the fates (which see) lady of the fountain, tale told by kynon laertes, father of ulysses laestrygonians, savages attacking ulysses laius, king of thebes lama, holy man of thibet lampetia, daughter of hyperion laoc'oon, a priest of neptune, in troy, who warned the trojans against the wooden horse (which see), but when two serpents came out of the sea and strangled him and his two sons, the people listened to the greek spy sinon, and brought the fatal horse into the town laodamia, daughter of acastus and wife of protesilaus laodegan, king of carmalide, helped by arthur and merlin laomedon, king of troy lapithae, thessalonians, whose king had invited the centaurs to his daughter's wedding but who attacked them for offering violence to the bride lares, household deities larkspur, flower from the blood of ajax latinus, ruler of latium, where aeneas landed in italy latmos, mount, where diana fell in love with endymion latona, mother of apollo launcelot, the most famous knight of the round table lausus, son of mezentius, killed by aeneas lavinia, daughter of latinus and wife of aeneas lavinium, italian city named for lavinia law, see themis leander, a youth of abydos, who, swimming the hellespont to see hero, his love, was drowned lebadea, site of the oracle of trophomus lebynthos, aegean island leda, queen of sparta, wooed by jupiter in the form of a swan leir, mythical king of britain, original of shakespeare's lear lelaps, dog of cephalus lemnos, large island in the aegean sea, sacred to vulcan lemures, the spectres or spirits of the dead leo, roman emperor, greek prince lethe, river of hades, drinking whose water caused forgetfulness leucadia, a promontory, whence sappho, disappointed in love, was said to have thrown herself into the sea leucothea, a sea goddess, invoked by sailors for protection (see ino) lewis, son of charlemagne liber, ancient god of fruitfulness libethra, burial place of orpheus libya, greek name for continent of africa in general libyan desert, in africa libyan oasis lichas, who brought the shirt of nessus to hercules limours, earl of linus, musical instructor of hercules lionel, knight of the round table llyr, king of britain locrine, son of brutus in albion, king of central england loegria, kingdom of (england) logestilla, a wise lady, who entertained rogero and his friends logi, who vanquished loki in an eating contest loki, the satan of norse mythology, son of the giant farbanti lot, king, a rebel chief, subdued by king arthur, then a loyal knight lotis, a nymph, changed to a lotus-plant and in that form plucked by dryope lotus eaters, soothed to indolence, companions of ulysses landing among them lost all memory of home and had to be dragged away before they would continue their voyage love (eros) issued from egg of night, and with arrows and torch produced life and joy lucan, one of arthur's knights lucius tiberius, roman procurator in britain demanding tribute from arthur lud, british king, whose capital was called lud's town (london) ludgate, city gate where lud was buried, 387 luned, maiden who guided owain to the lady of the fountain lycahas, a turbulent sailor lycaon, son of priam lycia, a district in southern asia minor lycomodes, king of the dolopians, who treacherously slew theseus lycus, usurping king of thebes lynceus, one of the sons of aegyptus m mabinogeon, plural of mabinogi, fairy tales and romances of the welsh mabon, son of modron machaon, son of aesculapius madan, son of guendolen madoc, a forester of king arthur mador, scottish knight maelgan, king who imprisoned elphin maeonia, ancient lydia magi, persian priests mahadeva, same as siva mahomet, great prophet of arabia, born in mecca, 571 ad, proclaimed worship of god instead of idols, spread his religion through disciples and then by force till it prevailed, with arabian dominion, over vast regions in asia, africa, and spain in europe maia, daughter of atlas and pleione, eldest and most beautiful of the pleiades malagigi the enchanter, one of charlemagne's knights maleagans, false knight malvasius, king of iceland mambrino, with invisible helmet manawyd dan, brother of king vran, of london mandricardo, son of agrican mantua, in italy, birthplace of virgil manu, ancestor of mankind marathon, where theseus and pirithous met mark, king of cornwall, husband of isoude the fair maro see virgil marphisa, sister of rogero marsilius, spanish king, treacherous foe of charlemagne marsyas, inventor of the flute, who challenged apollo to musical competition, and, defeated, was flayed alive matsya, the fish, first avatar of vishnu meander, grecian river mede, a, princess and sorceress who aided jason medoro, a young moor, who wins angelica medusa, one of the gorgons megaera, one of the furies melampus, a spartan dog, the first mortal endowed with prophetic powers melanthus, steersman for bacchus meleager, one of the argonauts (see althaea) meliadus, king of lionesse, near cornwall melicertes, infant son of ino. changed to palaemon (see ino, leucothea, and palasmon) melissa, priestess at merlin's tomb melisseus, a cretan king melpomene, one of the muses memnon, the beautiful son of tithonus and eos (aurora), and king of the ethiopians, slain in trojan war memphis, egyptian city menelaus, son of king of sparta, husband of helen menoeceus, son of creon, voluntary victim in war to gain success for his father mentor, son of alcimus and a faithful friend of ulysses mercury (see hermes) merlin, enchanter merope, daughter of king of chios, beloved by orion mesmerism, likened to curative oracle of aesculapius at epidaurus metabus, father of camilla metamorphoses, ovid's poetical legends of mythical transformations, a large source of our knowledge of classic mythology metanira, a mother, kind to ceres seeking proserpine metempsychosis, transmigration of souls--rebirth of dying men and women in forms of animals or human beings metis, prudence, a spouse of jupiter mezentius, a brave but cruel soldier, opposing aeneas in italy midas midgard, the middle world of the norsemen midgard serpent, a sea monster, child of loki milky way, starred path across the sky, believed to be road to palace of the gods milo, a great athlete mlon, father of orlando milton, john, great english poet, whose history of england is here largely used mime, one of the chief dwarfs of ancient german mythology minerva (athene), daughter of jupiter, patroness of health, learning, and wisdom minos, king of crete mino taur, monster killed by theseus mistletoe, fatal to baldur mnemosyne, one of the muses modesty, statue to modred, nephew of king arthur moly, plant, powerful against sorcery momus, a deity whose delight was to jeer bitterly at gods and men monad, the "unit" of pythagoras monsters, unnatural beings, evilly disposed to men montalban, rinaldo's castle month, the, attendant upon the sun moon, goddess of, see diana moraunt, knight, an irish champion morgana, enchantress, the lady of the lake in "orlando furioso," same as morgane le fay in tales of arthur morgane le fay, queen of norway, king arthur's sister, an enchantress morgan tud, arthur's chief physician morpheus, son of sleep and god of dreams morte d'arthur, romance, by sir thomas mallory mulciber, latin name of vulcan mull, island of munin, one of odin's two ravens musaeus, sacred poet, son of orpheus muses, the, nine goddesses presiding over poetry, etc--calliope, epic poetry, clio, history, erato, love poetry, euterpe, lyric poetry; melpomene, tragedy, polyhymnia, oratory and sacred song terpsichore, choral song and dance, thalia, comedy and idyls, urania, astronomy muspelheim, the fire world of the norsemen mycenas, ancient grecian city, of which agamemnon was king myrddin (merlin) myrmidons, bold soldiers of achilles mysia, greek district on northwest coast of asia minor mythology, origin of, collected myths, describing gods of early peoples n naiads, water nymphs namo, duke of bavaria, one of charlemagne's knights nanna, wife of baldur nanters, british king nantes, site of caradoc's castle nape, a dog of diana narcissus, who died of unsatisfied love for his own image in the water nausicaa, daughter of king alcinous, who befriended ulysses nausithous, king of phaeacians naxos, island of negus, king of abyssinia nemea, forest devastated by a lion killed by hercules nemean games, held in honor of jupiter and hercules nemean lion, killed by hercules nemesis, goddess of vengeance nennius, british combatant of caesar neoptolemus, son of achilles nepenthe, ancient drug to cause forgetfulness of pain or distress nephele, mother of phryxus and helle nephthys, egyptian goddess neptune, identical with poseidon, god of the sea nereids, sea nymphs, daughters of nereus and doris nereus, a sea god nessus, a centaur killed by hercules, whose jealous wife sent him a robe or shirt steeped in the blood of nessus, which poisoned him nestor, king of pylos, renowned for his wisdom, justice, and knowledge of war nibelungen hoard, treasure seized by siegfried from the nibelungs, buried in the rhine by hagan after killing siegfried, and lost when hagan was killed by kriemhild, theme of wagner's four music dramas, "the ring of the nibelungen," nibelungen lied, german epic, giving the same nature myth as the norse volsunga saga, concerning the hoard nibelungen ring, wagner's music dramas nibelungs, the, a race of northern dwarfs nidhogge, a serpent in the lower world that lives on the dead niffleheim, mist world of the norsemen, the hades of absent spirits nile, egyptian river niobe, daughter of tantalus, proud queen of thebes, whose seven sons and seven daughters were killed by apollo and diana, at which amphion, her husband, killed himself, and niobe wept until she was turned to stone nisus, king of megara noah, as legendary ancestor of french, roman, german, and british peoples noman, name assumed by ulysses norns, the three scandinavian fates, urdur (the past), verdandi (the present), and skuld (the future) nothung, magic sword notus, southwest wind nox, daughter of chaos and sister of erebus, personification of night numa, second king of rome nymphs, beautiful maidens, lesser divinities of nature dryads and hamadryads, tree nymphs, naiads, spring, brook, and river nymphs, nereids, sea nymphs oreads, mountain nymphs or hill nymphs o oceanus, a titan, ruling watery elements ocyroe, a prophetess, daughter of chiron oderic odin, chief of the norse gods odyar, famous biscayan hero odysseus see ulysses odyssey, homer's poem, relating the wanderings of odysseus (ulysses) on returning from trojan war oedipus, theban hero, who guessed the riddle of the sphinx (which see), becoming king of thebes oeneus, king of calydon oenone, nymph, married by paris in his youth, and abandoned for helen oenopion, king of chios oeta, mount, scene of hercules' death ogier, the dane, one of the paladins of charlemagne oliver, companion of orlando olwen, wife of kilwich olympia, a small plain in elis, where the olympic games were celebrated olympiads, periods between olympic games (four years) olympian games, see games olympus, dwelling place of the dynasty of gods of which zeus was the head omphale, queen of lydia, daughter of iardanus and wife of tmolus ophion, king of the titans, who ruled olympus till dethroned by the gods saturn and rhea ops see rhea oracles, answers from the gods to questions from seekers for knowledge or advice for the future, usually in equivocal form, so as to fit any event, also places where such answers were given forth usually by a priest or priestess orc, a sea monster, foiled by rogero when about to devour angelica oreads, nymphs of mountains and hills orestes, son of agamemnon and clytemnestra, because of his crime in killing his mother, he was pursued by the furies until purified by minerva orion, youthful giant, loved by diana, constellation orithyia, a nymph, seized by boreas orlando, a famous knight and nephew of charlemagne ormuzd (greek, oromasdes), son of supreme being, source of good as his brother ahriman (arimanes) was of evil, in persian or zoroastrian religion orpheus, musician, son of apollo and calliope, see eurydice osiris, the most beneficent of the egyptian gods ossa, mountain of thessaly ossian, celtic poet of the second or third century ovid, latin poet (see metamorphoses) owain, knight at king arthur's court ozanna, a knight of arthur p pactolus, river whose sands were changed to gold by midas paeon, a name for both apollo and aesculapius, gods of medicine. pagans, heathen paladins or peers, knights errant palaemon, son of athamas and ino palamedes, messenger sent to call ulysses to the trojan war palamedes, saracen prince at arthur's court palatine, one of rome's seven hills pales, goddess presiding over cattle and pastures palinurus, faithful steersman of aeeas palladium, properly any image of pallas athene, but specially applied to an image at troy, which was stolen by ulysses and diomedes pallas, son of evander pallas a the'ne (minerva) pampha gus, a dog of diana pan, god of nature and the universe panathenaea, festival in honor of pallas athene (minerva) pandean pipes, musical instrument of reeds, made by pan in memory of syrinx pandora (all gifted), first woman, dowered with gifts by every god, yet entrusted with a box she was cautioned not to open, but, curious, she opened it, and out flew all the ills of humanity, leaving behind only hope, which remained pandrasus, a king in greece, who persecuted trojan exiles under brutus, great grandson of aeneas, until they fought, captured him, and, with his daughter imogen as brutus' wife, emigrated to albion (later called britain) panope, plain of panthus, alleged earlier incarnation of pythagoras paphlagnia, ancient country in asia minor, south of black sea paphos, daughter of pygmalion and galatea (both of which, see) parcae see fates pariahs, lowest caste of hindus paris, son of priam and hecuba, who eloped with helen (which. see) parnassian laurel, wreath from parnassus, crown awarded to successful poets parnassus, mountain near delphi, sacred to apollo and the muses parsees, persian fire worshippers (zoroastrians), of whom there are still thousands in persia and india parthenon, the temple of athene parthenos ("the virgin") on the acropolis of athens passebreul, tristram's horse patroclus, friend of achilles, killed by hector pecheur, king, uncle of perceval peers, the peg a sus, winged horse, born from the sea foam and the blood of medusa peleus, king of the myrmidons, father of achilles by thetis pelias, usurping uncle of jason pelion, mountain pelleas, knight of arthur penates, protective household deities of the romans pendragon, king of britain, elder brother of uther pendragon, who succeeded him penelope, wife of ulysses, who, waiting twenty years for his return from the trojan war, put off the suitors for her hand by promising to choose one when her weaving was done, but unravelled at night what she had woven by day peneus, river god, river penthesilea, queen of amazons pentheus, king of thebes, having resisted the introduction of the worship of bacchus into his kingdom, was driven mad by the god penus, roman house pantry, giving name to the penates pepin, father of charlemagne peplus, sacred robe of minerva perceval, a great knight of arthur perdix, inventor of saw and compasses periander, king of corinuh, friend of arion periphetes, son of vulcan, killed by theseus persephone, goddess of vegetation, 8 see pioserpine perseus, son of jupiter and danae, slayer of the gorgon medusa, deliverer of andromeda from a sea monster, 116 122, 124, 202 phaeacians, people who entertained ulysses phaedra, faithless and cruel wife of theseus phaethusa, sister of phaeton, 244 phaeton, son of phoebus, who dared attempt to drive his father's sun chariot phantasos, a son of somnus, bringing strange images to sleeping men phaon, beloved by sappho phelot, knight of wales pheredin, friend of tristram, unhappy lover of isoude phidias, famous greek sculptor philemon, husband of baucis philoctetes, warrior who lighted the fatal pyre of hercules philoe, burial place of osiris phineus, betrothed to andromeda phlegethon, fiery river of hades phocis phoebe, one of the sisters of phaeton phoebus (apollo), god of music, prophecy, and archery, the sun god phoenix, a messenger to achilles, also, a miraculous bird dying in fire by its own act and springing up alive from its own ashes phorbas, a companion of aeneas, whose form was assumed by neptune in luring palinuras the helmsman from his roost phryxus, brother of helle pinabel, knight pillars of hercules, two mountains--calpe, now the rock of gibraltar, southwest corner of spain in europe, and abyla, facing it in africa across the strait pindar, famous greek poet pindus, grecian mountain pirene, celebrated fountain at corinth pirithous, king of the lapithae in thessaly, and friend of theseus, husband of hippodamia pleasure, daughter of cupid and psyche pleiades, seven of diana's nymphs, changed into stars, one being lost plenty, the horn of plexippus, brother of althea pliny, roman naturalist pluto, the same as hades, dis, etc. god of the infernal regions plutus, god of wealth po, italian river pole star polites, youngest son of priam of troy pollux, castor and (dioscuri, the twins) (see castor) polydectes, king of seriphus polydore, slain kinsman of aeneas, whose blood nourished a bush that bled when broken polyhymnia, muse of oratory and sacred song polyidus, soothsayer polynices, king of thebes polyphemus, giant son of neptune polyxena, daughter of king priam of troy pomona, goddess of fruit trees (see vertumnus) porrex and fer'rex, sons of leir, king of britain portunus, roman name for palaemon poseidon (neptune), ruler of the ocean precipice, threshold of helas hall prester john, a rumored priest or presbyter, a christian pontiff in upper asia, believed in but never found priam, king of troy priwen, arthur's shield procris, beloved but jealous wife of cephalus procrustes, who seized travellers and bound them on his iron bed, stretching the short ones and cutting short the tall, thus also himself served by theseus proetus, jealous of bellerophon prometheus, creator of man, who stole fire from heaven for man's use proserpine, the same as persephone, goddess of all growing things, daughter of ceres, carried off by pluto protesilaus, slain by hector the trojan, allowed by the gods to return for three hours' talk with his widow laodomia proteus, the old man of the sea prudence (metis), spouse of jupiter pryderi, son of pwyll psyche, a beautiful maiden, personification of the human soul, sought by cupid (love), to whom she responded, lost him by curiosity to see him (as he came to her only by night), but finally through his prayers was made immortal and restored to him, a symbol of immortality puranas, hindu scriptures pwyll, prince of dyved pygmalion, sculptor in love with a statue he had made, brought to life by venus, brother of queen dido pygmies, nation of dwarfs, at war with the cranes pylades, son of straphius, friend of orestes pyramus, who loved thisbe, next door neighbor, and, their parents opposing, they talked through cracks in the house wall, agreeing to meet in the near by woods, where pyramus, finding a bloody veil and thinking thisbe slain, killed himself, and she, seeing his body, killed herself (burlesqued in shakespeare's "midsummer night's dream") pyrrha, wife of deucalion pyrrhus (neoptolemus), son of achilles pythagoras, greek philosopher (540 bc), who thought numbers to be the essence and principle of all things, and taught transmigration of souls of the dead into new life as human or animal beings pythia, priestess of apollo at delphi pythian games pythian oracle python, serpent springing from deluge slum, destroyed by apollo q quirinus (from quiris, a lance or spear), a war god, said to be romulus, founder of rome r rabican, noted horse ragnarok, the twilight (or ending) of the gods rajputs, minor hindu caste regan, daughter of leir regillus, lake in latium, noted for battle fought near by between the romans and the latins reggio, family from which rogero sprang remus, brother of romulus, founder of rome rhadamanthus, son of jupiter and europa after his death one of the judges in the lower world rhapsodist, professional reciter of poems among the greeks rhea, female titan, wife of saturn (cronos), mother of the chief gods, worshipped in greece and rome rhine, river rhine maidens, or daughters, three water nymphs, flosshilda, woglinda, and wellgunda, set to guard the nibelungen hoard, buried in the rhine rhodes, one of the seven cities claiming to be homer's birthplace rhodope, mountain in thrace rhongomyant, arthur's lance rhoecus, a youth, beloved by a dryad, but who brushed away a bee sent by her to call him to her, and she punished him with blindness rhiannon, wife of pwyll rinaldo, one of the bravest knights of charlemagne river ocean, flowing around the earth robert de beauvais', norman poet (1257) robin hood, famous outlaw in english legend, about time of richard coeur de lion rockingham, forest of rodomont, king of algiers rogero, noted saracen knight roland (orlando), see orlando romances romanus, legendary great grandson of noah rome romulus, founder of rome ron, arthur's lance ronces valles', battle of round table king arthur's instituted by merlin the sage for pendragon, arthur's father, as a knightly order, continued and made famous by arthur and his knights runic characters, or runes, alphabetic signs used by early teutonic peoples, written or graved on metal or stone rutulians, an ancient people in italy, subdued at an early period by the romans ryence, king in ireland s sabra, maiden for whom severn river was named, daughter of locrine and estrildis thrown into river severn by locrine's wife, transformed to a river nymph, poetically named sabrina sacripant, king of circassia saffire, sir, knight of arthur sagas, norse tales of heroism, composed by the skalds sagramour, knight of arthur st. michael's mount, precipitous pointed rock hill on the coast of brittany, opposite cornwall sakyasinha, the lion, epithet applied to buddha salamander, a lizard like animal, fabled to be able to live in fire salamis, grecian city salmoneus, son of aeolus and enarete and brother of sisyphus salomon, king of brittany, at charlemagne's court samhin, or "fire of peace," a druidical festival samian sage (pythagoras) samos, island in the aegean sea samothracian gods, a group of agricultural divinities, worshipped in samothrace samson, hebrew hero, thought by some to be original of hercules san greal (see graal, the holy) sappho, greek poetess, who leaped into the sea from promontory of leucadia in disappointed love for phaon saracens, followers of mahomet sarpedon, son of jupiter and europa, killed by patroclus saturn (cronos) saturnalia, a annual festival held by romans in honor of saturn saturnia, an ancient name of italy satyrs, male divinities of the forest, half man, half goat scaliger, famous german scholar of 16th century scandinavia, mythology of, giving account of northern gods, heroes, etc scheria, mythical island, abode of the phaeacians schrimnir, the boar, cooked nightly for the heroes of valhalla becoming whole every morning scio, one of the island cities claiming to be homer's birthplace scopas, king of thessaly scorpion, constellation scylla, sea nymph beloved by glaucus, but changed by jealous circe to a monster and finally to a dangerous rock on the sicilian coast, facing the whirlpool charybdis, many mariners being wrecked between the two, also, daughter of king nisus of megara, who loved minos, besieging her father's city, but he disliked her disloyalty and drowned her, also, a fair virgin of sicily, friend of sea nymph galatea scyros, where theseus was slain scythia, country lying north of euxine sea semele, daughter of cadmus and, by jupiter, mother of bacchus semiramis, with ninus the mythical founder of the assyrian empire of nineveh senapus, king of abyssinia, who entertained astolpho serapis, or hermes, egyptian divinity of tartarus and of medicine serfs, slaves of the land seriphus, island in the aegean sea, one of the cyclades serpent (northern constellation) sestos, dwelling of hero (which see also leander) "seven against thebes," famous greek expedition severn river, in england sevinus, duke of guienne shalott, the lady of shatriya, hindu warrior caste sherasmin, french chevalier sibyl, prophetess of cumae sichaeus, husband of dido seige perilous, the chair of purity at arthur's round table, fatal to any but him who was destined to achieve the quest of the sangreal (see galahad) siegfried, young king of the netherlands, husband of kriemhild, she boasted to brunhild that siegfried had aided gunther to beat her in athletic contests, thus winning her as wife, and brunhild, in anger, employed hagan to murder siegfried. as hero of wagner's "valkyrie," he wins the nibelungen treasure ring, loves and deserts brunhild, and is slain by hagan sieglinda, wife of hunding, mother of siegfried by siegmund siegmund, father of siegfried sigtryg, prince, betrothed of king alef's daughter, aided by hereward siguna, wife of loki silenus, a satyr, school master of bacchus silures (south wales) silvia, daughter of latin shepherd silvius, grandson of aeneas, accidentally killed in the chase by his son brutus simonides, an early poet of greece sinon, a greek spy, who persuaded the trojans to take the wooden horse into their city sirens, sea nymphs, whose singing charmed mariners to leap into the sea, passing their island, ulysses stopped the ears of his sailors with wax, and had himself bound to the mast so that he could hear but not yield to their music sirius, the dog of orion, changed to the dog star sisyphus, condemned in tartarus to perpetually roll up hill a big rock which, when the top was reached, rolled down again siva, the destroyer, third person of the hindu triad of gods skalds, norse bards and poets skidbladnir, freyr's ship skirnir, frey's messenger, who won the god's magic sword by getting him gerda for his wife skrymir, a giant, utgard loki in disguise, who fooled thor in athletic feats skuld, the norn of the future sleep, twin brother of death sleipnir, odin's horse sobrino, councillor to agramant somnus, child of nox, twin brother of mors, god of sleep sophocles, greek tragic dramatist south wind see notus spar'ta, capital of lacedaemon sphinx, a monster, waylaying the road to thebes and propounding riddles to all passers, on pain of death, for wrong guessing, who killed herself in rage when aedipus guessed aright spring stonehenge, circle of huge upright stones, fabled to be sepulchre of pendragon strophius, father of pylades stygian realm, hades stygian sleep, escaped from the beauty box sent from hades to venus by hand of psyche, who curiously opened the box and was plunged into unconsciousness styx, river, bordering hades, to be crossed by all the dead sudras, hindu laboring caste surtur, leader of giants against the gods in the day of their destruction (norse mythology) surya, hindu god of the sun, corresponding to the greek helios sutri, orlando's birthplace svadilfari, giant's horse swan, leda and sybaris, greek city in southern italy, famed for luxury sylvanus, latin divinity identified with pan symplegades, floating rocks passed by the argonauts syrinx, nymph, pursued by pan, but escaping by being changed to a bunch of reeds (see pandean pipes) t tacitus, roman historian taenarus, greek entrance to lower regions tagus, river in spain and portugal taliesin, welsh bard tanais, ancient name of river don tantalus, wicked king, punished in hades by standing in water that retired when he would drink, under fruit trees that withdrew when he would eat tarchon, etruscan chief tarentum, italian city tarpeian rock, in rome, from which condemned criminals were hurled tarquins, a ruling family in early roman legend tauris, grecian city, site of temple of diana (see iphigenia) taurus, a mountain tartarus, place of confinement of titans, etc, originally a black abyss below hades later, represented as place where the wicked were punished, and sometimes the name used as synonymous with hades teirtu, the harp of telamon, greek hero and adventurer, father of ajax telemachus, son of ulysses and penelope tellus, another name for rhea tenedos, an island in aegean sea terminus, roman divinity presiding over boundaries and frontiers terpsichore, muse of dancing terra, goddess of the earth tethys, goddess of the sea teucer, ancient king of the trojans thalia, one of the three graces thamyris, thracian bard, who challenged the muses to competition in singing, and, defeated, was blinded thaukt, loki disguised as a hag thebes, city founded by cadmus and capital of boeotia themis, female titan, law counsellor of jove theodora, sister of prince leo theron, one of diana's dogs thersites, a brawler, killed by achilles thescelus, foe of perseus, turned to stone by sight of gorgon's head theseum, athenian temple in honor of theseus theseus, son of aegeus and aethra, king of athens, a great hero of many adventures thessaly thestius, father of althea thetis, mother of achilles thialfi, thor's servant this'be, babylonian maiden beloved by pyramus thor, the thunderer, of norse mythology, most popular of the gods thrace thrina'kia, island pasturing hyperion's cattle, where ulysses landed, but, his men killing some cattle for food, their ship was wrecked by lightning thrym, giant, who buried thor's hammer thucydides, greek historian tiber, river flowing through rome tiber, father, god of the river tigris, river tintadel, castle of, residence of king mark of cornwall tiresias, a greek soothsayer tisiphone, one of the furies titans, the sons and daughters of uranus (heaven) and gaea (earth), enemies of the gods and overcome by them tithonus, trojan prince tityus, giant in tartarus tmolus, a mountain god tortoise, second avatar of vishnu tours, battle of (see abdalrahman and charles martel) toxeus, brother of melauger's mother, who snatched from atalanta her hunting trophy, and was slain by melauger, who had awarded it to her triad, the hindu triads, welsh poems trimurti, hindu triad triptol'emus, son of celeus , and who, made great by ceres, founded her worship in eleusis tristram, one of arthur's knights, husband of isoude of the white hands, lover of isoude the fair. triton, a demi god of the sea, son of poseidon (neptune) and amphitrite troezen, greek city of argolis trojan war trojanova, new troy, city founded in britain (see brutus, and lud) trophonius, oracle of, in boeotia troubadours, poets and minstrels of provence, in southern france trouvers', poets and minstrels of northern france troy, city in asia minor, ruled by king priam, whose son, paris, stole away helen, wife of menelaus the greek, resulting in the trojan war and the destruction of troy troy, fall of turnus, chief of the rutulianes in italy, unsuccessful rival of aeneas for lavinia turpin, archbishop of rheims turquine, sir, a great knight, foe of arthur, slain by sir launcelot typhon, one of the giants who attacked the gods, were defeated, and imprisoned under mt. aetna tyr, norse god of battles tyre, phoenician city governed by dido tyrians tyrrheus, herdsman of king turnus in italy, the slaying of whose daughter's stag aroused war upon aeneas and his companions u uberto, son of galafron ulysses (greek, odysseus), hero of the odyssey unicorn, fabled animal with a single horn urania, one of the muses, a daughter of zeus by mnemosyne urdur, one of the norns or fates of scandinavia, representing the past usk, british river utgard, abode of the giant utgard loki utgard lo'ki, king of the giants (see skrymir) uther (uther pendragon), king of britain and father of arthur. uwaine, knight of arthur's court v vaissyas, hindu caste of agriculturists and traders valhalla, hall of odin, heavenly residence of slain heroes valkyrie, armed and mounted warlike virgins, daughters of the gods (norse), odin's messengers, who select slain heroes for valhalla and serve them at their feasts ve, brother of odin vedas, hindu sacred scriptures venedotia, ancient name for north wales venus (aphrodite), goddess of beauty venus de medici, famous antique statue in uffizi gallery, florence, italy verdandi, the present, one of the norns vertumnus, god of the changing seasons, whose varied appearances won the love of pomona vesta, daughter of cronos and rhea, goddess of the homefire, or hearth vestals, virgin priestesses in temple of vesta vesuvius, mount, volcano near naples villains, peasants in the feudal scheme vigrid, final battle-field, with destruction of the gods ind their enemies, the sun, the earth, and time itself vili, brother of odin and ve virgil, celebrated latin poet (see aeneid) virgo, constellation of the virgin, representing astraea, goddess of innocence and purity vishnu, the preserver, second of the three chief hindu gods viviane, lady of magical powers, who allured the sage merlin and imprisoned him in an enchanted wood volscens, rutulian troop leader who killed nisus and euryalus volsung, a saga, an icelandic poem, giving about the same legends as the nibelungen lied vortigern, usurping king of britain, defeated by pendragon 390, 397 vulcan (greek, haephestus), god of fire and metal working, with forges under aetna, husband of venus vya'sa, hindu sage w wain, the, constellation wellgunda, one of the rhine-daughters. welsh language western ocean winds, the winter woden, chief god in the norse mythology, anglo saxon for odin. woglinda, one of the rhine-daughters. woman, creation of. wooden horse, the, filled with armed men, but left outside of troy as a pretended offering to minerva when the greeks feigned to sail away, accepted by the trojans (see sinon, and laocoon), brought into the city, and at night emptied of the hidden greek soldiers, who destroyed the town. wood nymphs wotan, old high german form of odin. x xanthus, river of asia minor. y yama, hindu god of the infernal regions. year, the ygdrasil, great ash-tree, supposed by norse mythology to support the universe. ymir, giant, slain by odin. ynywl, earl, host of geraint, father of enid. york, britain. yserone, niece of arthur, mother of caradoc. yspa da den pen'kawr, father of olwen. z zendavesta, persian sacred scriptures. zephyrus, god of the south wind. zerbino, a knight, son of the king of scotland. zetes, winged warrior, companion of theseus. zethus, son of jupiter and antiope, brother of amphion. see dirce. zeus, see jupiter. zoroaster, founder of the persian religion, which was dominant in western asia from about 550 bc to about 650 ad, and is still held by many thousands in persia and in india bulfinch's mythology the age of fable the age of chivalry legends of charlemagne by thomas bulfinch complete in one volume [editor's note: the etext contains all three sections.] publishers' preface no new edition of bulfinch's classic work can be considered complete without some notice of the american scholar to whose wide erudition and painstaking care it stands as a perpetual monument. "the age of fable" has come to be ranked with older books like "pilgrim's progress," "gulliver's travels," "the arabian nights," "robinson crusoe," and five or six other productions of world-wide renown as a work with which every one must claim some acquaintance before his education can be called really complete. many readers of the present edition will probably recall coming in contact with the work as children, and, it may be added, will no doubt discover from a fresh perusal the source of numerous bits of knowledge that have remained stored in their minds since those early years. yet to the majority of this great circle of readers and students the name bulfinch in itself has no significance. thomas bulfinch was a native of boston, mass., where he was born in 1796. his boyhood was spent in that city, and he prepared for college in the boston schools. he finished his scholastic training at harvard college, and after taking his degree was for a period a teacher in his home city. for a long time later in life he was employed as an accountant in the boston merchants' bank. his leisure time he used for further pursuit of the classical studies which he had begun at harvard, and his chief pleasure in life lay in writing out the results of his reading, in simple, condensed form for young or busy readers. the plan he followed in this work, to give it the greatest possible usefulness, is set forth in the author's preface. "age of fable," first edition, 1855; "the age of chivalry," 1858; "the boy inventor," 1860; "legends of charlemagne, or romance of the middle ages," 1863; "poetry of the age of fable," 1863; "oregon and eldorado, or romance of the rivers,"1860. in this complete edition of his mythological and legendary lore "the age of fable," "the age of chivalry," and "legends of charlemagne" are included. scrupulous care has been taken to follow the original text of bulfinch, but attention should be called to some additional sections which have been inserted to add to the rounded completeness of the work, and which the publishers believe would meet with the sanction of the author himself, as in no way intruding upon his original plan but simply carrying it out in more complete detail. the section on northern mythology has been enlarged by a retelling of the epic of the "nibelungen lied," together with a summary of wagner's version of the legend in his series of music-dramas. under the head of "hero myths of the british race" have been included outlines of the stories of beowulf, cuchulain, hereward the wake, and robin hood. of the verse extracts which occur throughout the text, thirty or more have been added from literature which has appeared since bulfinch's time, extracts that he would have been likely to quote had he personally supervised the new edition. finally, the index has been thoroughly overhauled and, indeed, remade. all the proper names in the work have been entered, with references to the pages where they occur, and a concise explanation or definition of each has been given. thus what was a mere list of names in the original has been enlarged into a small classical and mythological dictionary, which it is hoped will prove valuable for reference purposes not necessarily connected with "the age of fable." acknowledgments are due the writings of dr. oliver huckel for information on the point of wagner's rendering of the nibelungen legend, and m. i. ebbutt's authoritative volume on "hero myths and legends of the british race," from which much of the information concerning the british heroes has been obtained author's preface if no other knowledge deserves to be called useful but that which helps to enlarge our possessions or to raise our station in society, then mythology has no claim to the appellation. but if that which tends to make us happier and better can be called useful, then we claim that epithet for our subject. for mythology is the handmaid of literature; and literature is one of the best allies of virtue and promoters of happiness. without a knowledge of mythology much of the elegant literature of our own language cannot be understood and appreciated. when byron calls rome "the niobe of nations," or says of venice, "she looks a sea-cybele fresh from ocean," he calls up to the mind of one familiar with our subject, illustrations more vivid and striking than the pencil could furnish, but which are lost to the reader ignorant of mythology. milton abounds in similar allusions. the short poem "comus" contains more than thirty such, and the ode "on the morning of the nativity" half as many. through "paradise lost" they are scattered profusely. this is one reason why we often hear persons by no means illiterate say that they cannot enjoy milton. but were these persons to add to their more solid acquirements the easy learning of this little volume, much of the poetry of milton which has appeared to them "harsh and crabbed" would be found "musical as is apollo's lute." our citations, taken from more than twenty-five poets, from spenser to longfellow, will show how general has been the practice of borrowing illustrations from mythology. the prose writers also avail themselves of the same source of elegant and suggestive illustration. one can hardly take up a number of the "edinburgh" or "quarterly review" without meeting with instances. in macaulay's article on milton there are twenty such. but how is mythology to be taught to one who does not learn it through the medium of the languages of greece and rome? to devote study to a species of learning which relates wholly to false marvels and obsolete faiths is not to be expected of the general reader in a practical age like this. the time even of the young is claimed by so many sciences of facts and things that little can be spared for set treatises on a science of mere fancy. but may not the requisite knowledge of the subject be acquired by reading the ancient poets in translations? we reply, the field is too extensive for a preparatory course; and these very translations require some previous knowledge of the subject to make them intelligible. let any one who doubts it read the first page of the "aeneid," and see what he can make of "the hatred of juno," the "decree of the parcae," the "judgment of paris," and the "honors of ganymede," without this knowledge. shall we be told that answers to such queries may be found in notes, or by a reference to the classical dictionary? we reply, the interruption of one's reading by either process is so annoying that most readers prefer to let an allusion pass unapprehended rather than submit to it. moreover, such sources give us only the dry facts without any of the charm of the original narrative; and what is a poetical myth when stripped of its poetry? the story of ceyx and halcyone, which fills a chapter in our book, occupies but eight lines in the best (smith's) classical dictionary; and so of others. our work is an attempt to solve this problem, by telling the stories of mythology in such a manner as to make them a source of amusement. we have endeavored to tell them correctly, according to the ancient authorities, so that when the reader finds them referred to he may not be at a loss to recognize the reference. thus we hope to teach mythology not as a study, but as a relaxation from study; to give our work the charm of a story-book, yet by means of it to impart a knowledge of an important branch of education. the index at the end will adapt it to the purposes of reference, and make it a classical dictionary for the parlor. most of the classical legends in "stories of gods and heroes" are derived from ovid and virgil. they are not literally translated, for, in the author's opinion, poetry translated into literal prose is very unattractive reading. neither are they in verse, as well for other reasons as from a conviction that to translate faithfully under all the embarrassments of rhyme and measure is impossible. the attempt has been made to tell the stories in prose, preserving so much of the poetry as resides in the thoughts and is separable from the language itself, and omitting those amplifications which are not suited to the altered form. the northern mythological stories are copied with some abridgment from mallet's "northern antiquities." these chapters, with those on oriental and egyptian mythology, seemed necessary to complete the subject, though it is believed these topics have not usually been presented in the same volume with the classical fables. the poetical citations so freely introduced are expected to answer several valuable purposes. they will tend to fix in memory the leading fact of each story, they will help to the attainment of a correct pronunciation of the proper names, and they will enrich the memory with many gems of poetry, some of them such as are most frequently quoted or alluded to in reading and conversation. having chosen mythology as connected with literature for our province, we have endeavored to omit nothing which the reader of elegant literature is likely to find occasion for. such stories and parts of stories as are offensive to pure taste and good morals are not given. but such stories are not often referred to, and if they occasionally should be, the english reader need feel no mortification in confessing his ignorance of them. our work is not for the learned, nor for the theologian, nor for the philosopher, but for the reader of english literature, of either sex, who wishes to comprehend the allusions so frequently made by public speakers, lecturers, essayists, and poets, and those which occur in polite conversation. in the "stories of gods and heroes" the compiler has endeavored to impart the pleasures of classical learning to the english reader, by presenting the stories of pagan mythology in a form adapted to modern taste. in "king arthur and his knights" and "the mabinogeon" the attempt has been made to treat in the same way the stories of the second "age of fable," the age which witnessed the dawn of the several states of modern europe. it is believed that this presentation of a literature which held unrivalled sway over the imaginations of our ancestors, for many centuries, will not be without benefit to the reader, in addition to the amusement it may afford. the tales, though not to be trusted for their facts, are worthy of all credit as pictures of manners; and it is beginning to be held that the manners and modes of thinking of an age are a more important part of its history than the conflicts of its peoples, generally leading to no result. besides this, the literature of romance is a treasure-house of poetical material, to which modern poets frequently resort. the italian poets, dante and ariosto, the english, spenser, scott, and tennyson, and our own longfellow and lowell, are examples of this. these legends are so connected with each other, so consistently adapted to a group of characters strongly individualized in arthur, launcelot, and their compeers, and so lighted up by the fires of imagination and invention, that they seem as well adapted to the poet's purpose as the legends of the greek and roman mythology. and if every well-educated young person is expected to know the story of the golden fleece, why is the quest of the sangreal less worthy of his acquaintance? or if an allusion to the shield of achilles ought not to pass unapprehended, why should one to excalibar, the famous sword of arthur?- "of arthur, who, to upper light restored, with that terrific sword, which yet he brandishes for future war, shall lift his country's fame above the polar star." [footnote: wordsworth] it is an additional recommendation of our subject, that it tends to cherish in our minds the idea of the source from which we sprung. we are entitled to our full share in the glories and recollections of the land of our forefathers, down to the time of colonization thence. the associations which spring from this source must be fruitful of good influences; among which not the least valuable is the increased enjoyment which such associations afford to the american traveller when he visits england, and sets his foot upon any of her renowned localities. the legends of charlemagne and his peers are necessary to complete the subject. in an age when intellectual darkness enveloped western europe, a constellation of brilliant writers arose in italy. of these, pulci (born in 1432), boiardo (1434), and ariosto (1474) took for their subjects the romantic fables which had for many ages been transmitted in the lays of bards and the legends of monkish chroniclers. these fables they arranged in order, adorned with the embellishments of fancy, amplified from their own invention, and stamped with immortality. it may safely be asserted that as long as civilization shall endure these productions will retain their place among the most cherished creations of human genius. in "stories of gods and heroes," "king arthur and his knights" and "the mabinogeon" the aim has been to supply to the modern reader such knowledge of the fables of classical and mediaeval literature as is needed to render intelligible the allusions which occur in reading and conversation. the "legends of charlemagne" is intended to carry out the same design. like the earlier portions of the work, it aspires to a higher character than that of a piece of mere amusement. it claims to be useful, in acquainting its readers with the subjects of the productions of the great poets of italy. some knowledge of these is expected of every well-educated young person. in reading these romances, we cannot fail to observe how the primitive inventions have been used, again and again, by successive generations of fabulists. the siren of ulysses is the prototype of the siren of orlando, and the character of circe reappears in alcina. the fountains of love and hatred may be traced to the story of cupid and psyche; and similar effects produced by a magic draught appear in the tale of tristram and isoude, and, substituting a flower for the draught, in shakspeare's "midsummer night's dream." there are many other instances of the same kind which the reader will recognize without our assistance. the sources whence we derive these stories are, first, the italian poets named above; next, the "romans de chevalerie" of the comte de tressan; lastly, certain german collections of popular tales. some chapters have been borrowed from leigh hunt's translations from the italian poets. it seemed unnecessary to do over again what he had already done so well; yet, on the other hand, those stories could not be omitted from the series without leaving it incomplete. thomas bulfinch. contents stories of gods and heroes i. introduction ii. prometheus and pandora iii. apollo and daphne--pyramus and thisbe--cephalus and procris iv. juno and her rivals, io and callisto--diana and actaeon --latona and the rustics v. phaeton vi. midas--baucis and philemon vii. proserpine--glaucus and scylla viii. pygmalion--dryope--venus and adonis--apollo and hyacinthus ix. ceyx and halcyone x. vertumnus and pomona--iphis and anaxarete xi. cupid and psyche xii. cadmus--the myrmidons xiii. nisus and scylla--echo and narcissus--clytie--hero and leander xiv. minerva and arachne--niobe xv. the graeae and gorgons--perseus and medusa--atlas--andromeda xvi. monsters: giants--sphinx--pegasus and chimaera--centaurs --griffin--pygmies xvii. the golden fleece--medea xviii. meleager and atalanta xix. hercules--hebe and ganymede xx. theseus and daedalus--castor and pollux--festivals and games xxi. bacchus and ariadne xxii. the rural deities--the dryads and erisichthon --rhoecus--water deities--camenae--winds xxiii. achelous and hercules--admetus and alcestis--antigone--penelope xxiv. orpheus and eurydice--aristaeus--amphion--linus --thamyris--marsyas--melampus--musaeus xxv. arion--ibycus--simonides--sappho xxvi. endymion--orion--aurora and tithonus--acis and galatea xxvii. the trojan war xxviii. the fall of troy--return of the greeks--orestes and electra xxix. adventures of ulysses--the lotus-eaters--the cyclopes --circe--sirens--scylla and charybdis--calypso xxx. the phaeacians--fate of the suitors xxxi. adventures of aeneas--the harpies--dido--palinurus xxxii. the infernal regions--the sibyl xxxiii. aeneas in italy--camilla--evander--nisus and euryalus --mezentius--turnus xxxiv. pythagoras--egyptian deities--oracles xxxv. origin of mythology--statues of gods and goddesses --poets of mythology xxxvi. monsters (modern)--the phoenix--basilisk--unicorn--salamander xxxvii. eastern mythology--zoroaster--hindu mythology--castes--buddha --the grand lama--prester john xxxviii. northern mythology--valhalla--the valkyrior xxxix. thor's visit to jotunheim xl. the death of baldur--the elves--runic letters--skalds--iceland --teutonic mythology--the nibelungen lied --wagner's nibelungen ring xli. the druids--iona king arthur and his knights i. introduction ii. the mythical history of england iii. merlin iv. arthur v. arthur (continued) vi. sir gawain vii. caradoc briefbras; or, caradoc with the shrunken arm viii. launcelot of the lake ix. the adventure of the cart x. the lady of shalott xi. queen guenever's peril xii. tristram and isoude xiii. tristram and isoude (continued) xiv. sir tristram's battle with sir launcelot xv. the round table xvi. sir palamedes xvii. sir tristram xviii. perceval xix. the sangreal, or holy graal xx. the sangreal (continued) xxi. the sangreal (continued) xxii. sir agrivain's treason xxiii. morte d'arthur the mabinogeon introductory note i. the britons ii. the lady of the fountain iii. the lady of the fountain (continued) iv. the lady of the fountain (continued) v. geraint, the son of erbin vi. geraint, the son of erbin (continued) vii. geraint, the son of erbin (continued) viii. pwyll, prince of dyved ix. branwen, the daughter of llyr x. manawyddan xi. kilwich and olwen xii. kilwich and olwen (continued) xiii. taliesin hero myths of the british race beowulf cuchulain, champion of ireland hereward the wake robin hood legends of charlemagne introduction the peers, or paladins the tournament the siege of albracca adventures of rinaldo and orlando the invasion of france the invasion of france (continued) bradamante and rogero astolpho and the enchantress the orc astolpho's adventures continued, and isabella's begun. medoro orlando mad zerbino and isabella astolpho in abyssinia the war in africa rogero and bradamante the battle of roncesvalles rinaldo and bayard death of rinaldo huon of bordeaux huon of bordeaux (continued) huon of bordeaux (continued) ogier, the dane ogier, the dane (continued) ogier, the dane (continued) glossary stories of gods and heroes chapter i introduction the religions of ancient greece and rome are extinct. the socalled divinities of olympus have not a single worshipper among living men. they belong now not to the department of theology, but to those of literature and taste. there they still hold their place, and will continue to hold it, for they are too closely connected with the finest productions of poetry and art, both ancient and modern, to pass into oblivion. we propose to tell the stories relating to them which have come down to us from the ancients, and which are alluded to by modern poets, essayists, and orators. our readers may thus at the same time be entertained by the most charming fictions which fancy has ever created, and put in possession of information indispensable to every one who would read with intelligence the elegant literature of his own day. in order to understand these stories, it will be necessary to acquaint ourselves with the ideas of the structure of the universe which prevailed among the greeks--the people from whom the romans, and other nations through them, received their science and religion. the greeks believed the earth to be flat and circular, their own country occupying the middle of it, the central point being either mount olympus, the abode of the gods, or delphi, so famous for its oracle. the circular disk of the earth was crossed from west to east and divided into two equal parts by the sea, as they called the mediterranean, and its continuation the euxine, the only seas with which they were acquainted. around the earth flowed the river ocean, its course being from south to north on the western side of the earth, and in a contrary direction on the eastern side. it flowed in a steady, equable current, unvexed by storm or tempest. the sea, and all the rivers on earth, received their waters from it. the northern portion of the earth was supposed to be inhabited by a happy race named the hyperboreans, dwelling in everlasting bliss and spring beyond the lofty mountains whose caverns were supposed to send forth the piercing blasts of the north wind, which chilled the people of hellas (greece). their country was inaccessible by land or sea. they lived exempt from disease or old age, from toils and warfare. moore has given us the "song of a hyperborean," beginning "i come from a land in the sun-bright deep, where golden gardens glow, where the winds of the north, becalmed in sleep, their conch shells never blow." on the south side of the earth, close to the stream of ocean, dwelt a people happy and virtuous as the hyperboreans. they were named the aethiopians. the gods favored them so highly that they were wont to leave at times their olympian abodes and go to share their sacrifices and banquets. on the western margin of the earth, by the stream of ocean, lay a happy place named the elysian plain, whither mortals favored by the gods were transported without tasting of death, to enjoy an immortality of bliss. this happy region was also called the "fortunate fields," and the "isles of the blessed." we thus see that the greeks of the early ages knew little of any real people except those to the east and south of their own country, or near the coast of the mediterranean. their imagination meantime peopled the western portion of this sea with giants, monsters, and enchantresses; while they placed around the disk of the earth, which they probably regarded as of no great width, nations enjoying the peculiar favor of the gods, and blessed with happiness and longevity. the dawn, the sun, and the moon were supposed to rise out of the ocean, on the eastern side, and to drive through the air, giving light to gods and men. the stars, also, except those forming the wain or bear, and others near them, rose out of and sank into the stream of ocean. there the sun-god embarked in a winged boat, which conveyed him round by the northern part of the earth, back to his place of rising in the east. milton alludes to this in his "comus": "now the gilded car of day his golden axle doth allay in the steep atlantic stream, and the slope sun his upward beam shoots against the dusky pole, pacing towards the other goal of his chamber in the east" the abode of the gods was on the summit of mount olympus, in thessaly. a gate of clouds, kept by the goddesses named the seasons, opened to permit the passage of the celestials to earth, and to receive them on their return. the gods had their separate dwellings; but all, when summoned, repaired to the palace of jupiter, as did also those deities whose usual abode was the earth, the waters, or the underworld. it was also in the great hall of the palace of the olympian king that the gods feasted each day on ambrosia and nectar, their food and drink, the latter being handed round by the lovely goddess hebe. here they conversed of the affairs of heaven and earth; and as they quaffed their nectar, apollo, the god of music, delighted them with the tones of his lyre, to which the muses sang in responsive strains. when the sun was set, the gods retired to sleep in their respective dwellings. the following lines from the "odyssey" will show how homer conceived of olympus: "so saying, minerva, goddess azure-eyed, rose to olympus, the reputed seat eternal of the gods, which never storms disturb, rains drench, or snow invades, but calm the expanse and cloudless shmes with purest day. there the inhabitants divine rejoice forever"--cowper. the robes and other parts of the dress of the goddesses were woven by minerva and the graces and everything of a more solid nature was formed of the various metals. vulcan was architect, smith, armorer, chariot builder, and artist of all work in olympus. he built of brass the houses of the gods; he made for them the golden shoes with which they trod the air or the water, and moved from place to place with the speed of the wind, or even of thought. he also shod with brass the celestial steeds, which whirled the chariots of the gods through the air, or along the surface of the sea. he was able to bestow on his workmanship self-motion, so that the tripods (chairs and tables) could move of themselves in and out of the celestial hall. he even endowed with intelligence the golden handmaidens whom he made to wait on himself. jupiter, or jove (zeus [footnote: the names included in parentheses are the greek, the others being the roman or latin names] ), though called the father of gods and men, had himself a beginning. saturn (cronos) was his father, and rhea (ops) his mother. saturn and rhea were of the race of titans, who were the children of earth and heaven, which sprang from chaos, of which we shall give a further account in our next chapter. there is another cosmogony, or account of the creation, according to which earth, erebus, and love were the first of beings. love (eros) issued from the egg of night, which floated on chaos. by his arrows and torch he pierced and vivified all things, producing life and joy. saturn and rhea were not the only titans. there were others, whose names were oceanus, hyperion, iapetus, and ophion, males; and themis, mnemosyne, eurynome, females. they are spoken of as the elder gods, whose dominion was afterwards transferred to others. saturn yielded to jupiter, oceanus to neptune, hyperion to apollo. hyperion was the father of the sun, moon, and dawn. he is therefore the original sun-god, and is painted with the splendor and beauty which were afterwards bestowed on apollo. "hyperion's curls, the front of jove himself" --shakspeare. ophion and eurynome ruled over olympus till they were dethroned by saturn and rhea. milton alludes to them in "paradise lost." he says the heathens seem to have had some knowledge of the temptation and fall of man. "and fabled how the serpent, whom they called ophion, with eurynome, (the wide encroaching eve perhaps,) had first the rule of high olympus, thence by saturn driven." the representations given of saturn are not very consistent; for on the one hand his reign is said to have been the golden age of innocence and purity, and on the other he is described as a monster who devoured his children. [footnote: this inconsistency arises from considering the saturn of the romans the same with the grecian deity cronos (time), which, as it brings an end to all things which have had a beginning, may be said to devour its own offspring] jupiter, however, escaped this fate, and when grown up espoused metis (prudence), who administered a draught to saturn which caused him to disgorge his children. jupiter, with his brothers and sisters, now rebelled against their father saturn and his brothers the titans; vanquished them, and imprisoned some of them in tartarus, inflicting other penalties on others. atlas was condemned to bear up the heavens on his shoulders. on the dethronement of saturn, jupiter with his brothers neptune (poseidon) and pluto (dis) divided his dominions. jupiter's portion was the heavens, neptune's the ocean, and pluto's the realms of the dead. earth and olympus were common property. jupiter was king of gods and men. the thunder was his weapon, and he bore a shield called aegis, made for him by vulcan. the eagle was his favorite bird, and bore his thunderbolts. juno (hera) was the wife of jupiter, and queen of the gods. iris, the goddess of the rainbow, was her attendant and messenger. the peacock was her favorite bird. vulcan (hephaestos), the celestial artist, was the son of jupiter and juno. he was born lame, and his mother was so displeased at the sight of him that she flung him out of heaven. other accounts say that jupiter kicked him out for taking part with his mother in a quarrel which occurred between them. vulcan's lameness, according to this account, was the consequence of his fall. he was a whole day falling, and at last alighted in the island of lemnos, which was thenceforth sacred to him. milton alludes to this story in "paradise lost," book i.: "... from morn to noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, a summer's day; and with the setting sun dropped from the zenith, like a falling star, on lemnos, the aegean isle." mars (ares), the god of war, was the son of jupiter and juno. phoebus apollo, the god of archery, prophecy, and music, was the son of jupiter and latona, and brother of diana (artemis). he was god of the sun, as diana, his sister, was the goddess of the moon. venus (aphrodite), the goddess of love and beauty, was the daughter of jupiter and dione. others say that venus sprang from the foam of the sea. the zephyr wafted her along the waves to the isle of cyprus, where she was received and attired by the seasons, and then led to the assembly of the gods. all were charmed with her beauty, and each one demanded her for his wife. jupiter gave her to vulcan, in gratitude for the service he had rendered in forging thunderbolts. so the most beautiful of the goddesses became the wife of the most ill-favored of gods. venus possessed an embroidered girdle called cestus, which had the power of inspiring love. her favorite birds were swans and doves, and the plants sacred to her were the rose and the myrtle. cupid (eros), the god of love, was the son of venus. he was her constant companion; and, armed with bow and arrows, he shot the darts of desire into the bosoms of both gods and men. there was a deity named anteros, who was sometimes represented as the avenger of slighted love, and sometimes as the symbol of reciprocal affection. the following legend is told of him: venus, complaining to themis that her son eros continued always a child, was told by her that it was because he was solitary, and that if he had a brother he would grow apace. anteros was soon afterwards born, and eros immediately was seen to increase rapidly in size and strength. minerva (pallas, athene), the goddess of wisdom, was the offspring of jupiter, without a mother. she sprang forth from his head completely armed. her favorite bird was the owl, and the plant sacred to her the olive. byron, in "childe harold," alludes to the birth of minerva thus: "can tyrants but by tyrants conquered be, and freedom find no champion and no child, such as columbia saw arise, when she sprang forth a pallas, armed and undefiled? or must such minds be nourished in the wild, deep in the unpruned forest,'midst the roar of cataracts, where nursing nature smiled on infant washington? has earth no more such seeds within her breast, or europe no such shore?" mercury (hermes) was the son of jupiter and maia. he presided over commerce, wrestling, and other gymnastic exercises, even over thieving, and everything, in short, which required skill and dexterity. he was the messenger of jupiter, and wore a winged cap and winged shoes. he bore in his hand a rod entwined with two serpents, called the caduceus. mercury is said to have invented the lyre. he found, one day, a tortoise, of which he took the shell, made holes in the opposite edges of it, and drew cords of linen through them, and the instrument was complete. the cords were nine, in honor of the nine muses. mercury gave the lyre to apollo, and received from him in exchange the caduceus. [footnote: from this origin of the instrument, the word "shell" is often used as synonymous with "lyre," and figuratively for music and poetry. thus gray, in his ode on the "progress of poesy," says: "o sovereign of the willing soul, parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, enchanting shell! the sullen cares and frantic passions hear thy soft control."] ceres (demeter) was the daughter of saturn and rhea. she had a daughter named proserpine (persephone), who became the wife of pluto, and queen of the realms of the dead. ceres presided over agriculture. bacchus (dionysus), the god of wine, was the son of jupiter and semele. he represents not only the intoxicating power of wine, but its social and beneficent influences likewise, so that he is viewed as the promoter of civilization, and a lawgiver and lover of peace. the muses were the daughters of jupiter and mnemosyne (memory). they presided over song, and prompted the memory. they were nine in number, to each of whom was assigned the presidence over some particular department of literature, art, or science. calliope was the muse of epic poetry, clio of history, euterpe of lyric poetry, melpomene of tragedy, terpsichore of choral dance and song, erato of love poetry, polyhymnia of sacred poetry, urania of astronomy, thalia of comedy. the graces were goddesses presiding over the banquet, the dance, and all social enjoyments and elegant arts. they were three in number. their names were euphrosyne, aglaia, and thalia. spenser describes the office of the graces thus: "these three on men all gracious gifts bestow which deck the body or adorn the mind, to make them lovely or well-favored show; as comely carriage, entertainment kind, sweet semblance, friendly offices that bind, and all the complements of courtesy; they teach us how to each degree and kind we should ourselves demean, to low, to high, to friends, to foes; which skill men call civility." the fates were also three--clotho, lachesis, and atropos. their office was to spin the thread of human destiny, and they were armed with shears, with which they cut it off when they pleased. they were the daughters of themis (law), who sits by jove on his throne to give him counsel. the erinnyes, or furies, were three goddesses who punished by their secret stings the crimes of those who escaped or defied public justice. the heads of the furies were wreathed with serpents, and their whole appearance was terrific and appalling. their names were alecto, tisiphone, and megaera. they were also called eumenides. nemesis was also an avenging goddess. she represents the righteous anger of the gods, particularly towards the proud and insolent. pan was the god of flocks and shepherds. his favorite residence was in arcadia. the satyrs were deities of the woods and fields. they were conceived to be covered with bristly hair, their heads decorated with short, sprouting horns, and their feet like goats' feet. momus was the god of laughter, and plutus the god of wealth. roman divinities the preceding are grecian divinities, though received also by the romans. those which follow are peculiar to roman mythology: saturn was an ancient italian deity. it was attempted to identify him with the grecian god cronos, and fabled that after his dethronement by jupiter he fled to italy, where he reigned during what was called the golden age. in memory of his beneficent dominion, the feast of saturnalia was held every year in the winter season. then all public business was suspended, declarations of war and criminal executions were postponed, friends made presents to one another and the slaves were indulged with great liberties. a feast was given them at which they sat at table, while their masters served them, to show the natural equality of men, and that all things belonged equally to all, in the reign of saturn. faunus, [footnote: there was also a goddess called fauna, or bona dea.] the grandson of saturn, was worshipped as the god of fields and shepherds, and also as a prophetic god. his name in the plural, fauns, expressed a class of gamesome deities, like the satyrs of the greeks. quirinus was a war god, said to be no other than romulus, the founder of rome, exalted after his death to a place among the gods. bellona, a war goddess. terminus, the god of landmarks. his statue was a rude stone or post, set in the ground to mark the boundaries of fields. pales, the goddess presiding over cattle and pastures. pomona presided over fruit trees. flora, the goddess of flowers. lucina, the goddess of childbirth. vesta (the hestia of the greeks) was a deity presiding over the public and private hearth. a sacred fire, tended by six virgin priestesses called vestals, flamed in her temple. as the safety of the city was held to be connected with its conservation, the neglect of the virgins, if they let it go out, was severely punished, and the fire was rekindled from the rays of the sun. liber is the latin name of bacchus; and mulciber of vulcan. janus was the porter of heaven. he opens the year, the first month being named after him. he is the guardian deity of gates, on which account he is commonly represented with two heads, because every door looks two ways. his temples at rome were numerous. in war time the gates of the principal one were always open. in peace they were closed; but they were shut only once between the reign of numa and that of augustus. the penates were the gods who were supposed to attend to the welfare and prosperity of the family. their name is derived from penus, the pantry, which was sacred to them. every master of a family was the priest to the penates of his own house. the lares, or lars, were also household gods, but differed from the penates in being regarded as the deified spirits of mortals. the family lars were held to be the souls of the ancestors, who watched over and protected their descendants. the words lemur and larva more nearly correspond to our word ghost. the romans believed that every man had his genius, and every woman her juno: that is, a spirit who had given them being, and was regarded as their protector through life. on their birthdays men made offerings to their genius, women to their juno. a modern poet thus alludes to some of the roman gods: "pomona loves the orchard, and liber loves the vine, and pales loves the straw-built shed warm with the breath of kine; and venus loves the whisper of plighted youth and maid, in april's ivory moonlight, beneath the chestnut shade." --macaulay, "prophecy of capys." n.b.--it is to be observed that in proper names the final e and es are to be sounded. thus cybele and penates are words of three syllables. but proserpine and thebes are exceptions, and to be pronounced as english words. in the index at the close of the volume we shall mark the accented syllable in all words which appear to require it. chapter ii prometheus and pandora the creation of the world is a problem naturally fitted to excite the liveliest interest of man, its inhabitant. the ancient pagans, not having the information on the subject which we derive from the pages of scripture, had their own way of telling the story, which is as follows: before earth and sea and heaven were created, all things wore one aspect, to which we give the name of chaos--a confused and shapeless mass, nothing but dead weight, in which, however, slumbered the seeds of things. earth, sea, and air were all mixed up together; so the earth was not solid, the sea was not fluid, and the air was not transparent. god and nature at last interposed, and put an end to this discord, separating earth from sea, and heaven from both. the fiery part, being the lightest, sprang up, and formed the skies; the air was next in weight and place. the earth, being heavier, sank below; and the water took the lowest place, and buoyed up the earth. here some god--it is not known which--gave his good offices in arranging and disposing the earth. he appointed rivers and bays their places, raised mountains, scooped out valleys, distributed woods, fountains, fertile fields, and stony plains. the air being cleared, the stars began to appear, fishes took possession of the sea, birds of the air, and four-footed beasts of the land. but a nobler animal was wanted, and man was made. it is not known whether the creator made him of divine materials, or whether in the earth, so lately separated from heaven, there lurked still some heavenly seeds. prometheus took some of this earth, and kneading it up with water, made man in the image of the gods. he gave him an upright stature, so that while all other animals turn their faces downward, and look to the earth, he raises his to heaven, and gazes on the stars. prometheus was one of the titans, a gigantic race, who inhabited the earth before the creation of man. to him and his brother epimetheus was committed the office of making man, and providing him and all other animals with the faculties necessary for their preservation. epimetheus undertook to do this, and prometheus was to overlook his work, when it was done. epimetheus accordingly proceeded to bestow upon the different animals the various gifts of courage, strength, swiftness, sagacity; wings to one, claws to another, a shelly covering to a third, etc. but when man came to be provided for, who was to be superior to all other animals, epimetheus had been so prodigal of his resources that he had nothing left to bestow upon him. in his perplexity he resorted to his brother prometheus, who, with the aid of minerva, went up to heaven, and lighted his torch at the chariot of the sun, and brought down fire to man. with this gift man was more than a match for all other animals. it enabled him to make weapons wherewith to subdue them; tools with which to cultivate the earth; to warm his dwelling, so as to be comparatively independent of climate; and finally to introduce the arts and to coin money, the means of trade and commerce. woman was not yet made. the story (absurd enough!) is that jupiter made her, and sent her to prometheus and his brother, to punish them for their presumption in stealing fire from heaven; and man, for accepting the gift. the first woman was named pandora. she was made in heaven, every god contributing something to perfect her. venus gave her beauty, mercury persuasion, apollo music, etc. thus equipped, she was conveyed to earth, and presented to epimetheus, who gladly accepted her, though cautioned by his brother to beware of jupiter and his gifts. epimetheus had in his house a jar, in which were kept certain noxious articles, for which, in fitting man for his new abode, he had had no occasion. pandora was seized with an eager curiosity to know what this jar contained; and one day she slipped off the cover and looked in. forthwith there escaped a multitude of plagues for hapless man,--such as gout, rheumatism, and colic for his body, and envy, spite, and revenge for his mind,--and scattered themselves far and wide. pandora hastened to replace the lid! but, alas! the whole contents of the jar had escaped, one thing only excepted, which lay at the bottom, and that was hope. so we see at this day, whatever evils are abroad, hope never entirely leaves us; and while we have that, no amount of other ills can make us completely wretched. another story is that pandora was sent in good faith, by jupiter, to bless man; that she was furnished with a box, containing her marriage presents, into which every god had put some blessing. she opened the box incautiously, and the blessings all escaped, hope only excepted. this story seems more probable than the former; for how could hope, so precious a jewel as it is, have been kept in a jar full of all manner of evils, as in the former statement? the world being thus furnished with inhabitants, the first age was an age of innocence and happiness, called the golden age. truth and right prevailed, though not enforced by law, nor was there any magistrate to threaten or punish. the forest had not yet been robbed of its trees to furnish timbers for vessels, nor had men built fortifications round their towns. there were no such things as swords, spears, or helmets. the earth brought forth all things necessary for man, without his labor in ploughing or sowing. perpetual spring reigned, flowers sprang up without seed, the rivers flowed with milk and wine, and yellow honey distilled from the oaks. then succeeded the silver age, inferior to the golden, but better than that of brass. jupiter shortened the spring, and divided the year into seasons. then, first, men had to endure the extremes of heat and cold, and houses became necessary. caves were the first dwellings, and leafy coverts of the woods, and huts woven of twigs. crops would no longer grow without planting. the farmer was obliged to sow the seed and the toiling ox to draw the plough. next came the brazen age, more savage of temper, and readier to the strife of arms, yet not altogether wicked. the hardest and worst was the iron age. crime burst in like a flood; modesty, truth, and honor fled. in their places came fraud and cunning, violence, and the wicked love of gain. then seamen spread sails to the wind, and the trees were torn from the mountains to serve for keels to ships, and vex the face of ocean. the earth, which till now had been cultivated in common, began to be divided off into possessions. men were not satisfied with what the surface produced, but must dig into its bowels, and draw forth from thence the ores of metals. mischievous iron, and more mischievous gold, were produced. war sprang up, using both as weapons; the guest was not safe in his friend's house; and sons-in-law and fathers-inlaw, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, could not trust one another. sons wished their fathers dead, that they might come to the inheritance; family love lay prostrate. the earth was wet with slaughter, and the gods abandoned it, one by one, till astraea alone was left, and finally she also took her departure. [footnote: the goddess of innocence and purity. after leaving earth, she was placed among the stars, where she became the constellation virgo--the virgin. themis (justice) was the mother of astraea. she is represented as holding aloft a pair of scales, in which she weighs the claims of opposing parties. it was a favorite idea of the old poets that these goddesses would one day return, and bring back the golden age. even in a christian hymn, the "messiah" of pope, this idea occurs: "all crimes shall cease, and ancient fraud shall fail, returning justice lift aloft her scale, peace o'er the world her olive wand extend, and white-robed innocence from heaven descend." see, also, milton's "hymn on the nativity," stanzas xiv. and xv.] jupiter, seeing this state of things, burned with anger. he summoned the gods to council. they obeyed the call, and took the road to the palace of heaven. the road, which any one may see in a clear night, stretches across the face of the sky, and is called the milky way. along the road stand the palaces of the illustrious gods; the common people of the skies live apart, on either side. jupiter addressed the assembly. he set forth the frightful condition of things on the earth, and closed by announcing his intention to destroy the whole of its inhabitants, and provide a new race, unlike the first, who would be more worthy of life, and much better worshippers of the gods. so saying he took a thunderbolt, and was about to launch it at the world, and destroy it by burning; but recollecting the danger that such a conflagration might set heaven itself on fire, he changed his plan, and resolved to drown it. the north wind, which scatters the clouds, was chained up; the south was sent out, and soon covered all the face of heaven with a cloak of pitchy darkness. the clouds, driven together, resound with a crash; torrents of rain fall; the crops are laid low; the year's labor of the husbandman perishes in an hour. jupiter, not satisfied with his own waters, calls on his brother neptune to aid him with his. he lets loose the rivers, and pours them over the land. at the same time, he heaves the land with an earthquake, and brings in the reflux of the ocean over the shores. flocks, herds, men, and houses are swept away, and temples, with their sacred enclosures, profaned. if any edifice remained standing, it was overwhelmed, and its turrets lay hid beneath the waves. now all was sea, sea without shore. here and there an individual remained on a projecting hilltop, and a few, in boats, pulled the oar where they had lately driven the plough. the fishes swim among the tree-tops; the anchor is let down into a garden. where the graceful lambs played but now, unwieldy sea calves gambol. the wolf swims among the sheep, the yellow lions and tigers struggle in the water. the strength of the wild boar serves him not, nor his swiftness the stag. the birds fall with weary wing into the water, having found no land for a resting-place. those living beings whom the water spared fell a prey to hunger. parnassus alone, of all the mountains, overtopped the waves; and there deucalion, and his wife pyrrha, of the race of prometheus, found refuge--he a just man, and she a faithful worshipper of the gods. jupiter, when he saw none left alive but this pair, and remembered their harmless lives and pious demeanor, ordered the north winds to drive away the clouds, and disclose the skies to earth, and earth to the skies. neptune also directed triton to blow on his shell, and sound a retreat to the waters. the waters obeyed, and the sea returned to its shores, and the rivers to their channels. then deucalion thus addressed pyrrha: "o wife, only surviving woman, joined to me first by the ties of kindred and marriage, and now by a common danger, would that we possessed the power of our ancestor prometheus, and could renew the race as he at first made it! but as we cannot, let us seek yonder temple, and inquire of the gods what remains for us to do." they entered the temple, deformed as it was with slime, and approached the altar, where no fire burned. there they fell prostrate on the earth, and prayed the goddess to inform them how they might retrieve their miserable affairs. the oracle answered, "depart from the temple with head veiled and garments unbound, and cast behind you the bones of your mother." they heard the words with astonishment. pyrrha first broke silence: "we cannot obey; we dare not profane the remains of our parents." they sought the thickest shades of the wood, and revolved the oracle in their minds. at length deucalion spoke: "either my sagacity deceives me, or the command is one we may obey without impiety. the earth is the great parent of all; the stones are her bones; these we may cast behind us; and i think this is what the oracle means. at least, it will do no harm to try." they veiled their faces, unbound their garments, and picked up stones, and cast them behind them. the stones (wonderful to relate) began to grow soft, and assume shape. by degrees, they put on a rude resemblance to the human form, like a block half-finished in the hands of the sculptor. the moisture and slime that were about them became flesh; the stony part became bones; the veins remained veins, retaining their name, only changing their use. those thrown by the hand of the man became men, and those by the woman became women. it was a hard race, and well adapted to labor, as we find ourselves to be at this day, giving plain indications of our origin. the comparison of eve to pandora is too obvious to have escaped milton, who introduces it in book iv. of "paradise lost": "more lovely than pandora, whom the gods endowed with all their gifts; and o, too like in sad event, when to the unwiser son of japhet brought by hermes, she insnared mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged on him who had stole jove's authentic fire." prometheus and epimetheus were sons of iapetus, which milton changes to japhet. prometheus has been a favorite subject with the poets. he is represented as the friend of mankind, who interposed in their behalf when jove was incensed against them, and who taught them civilization and the arts. but as, in so doing, he transgressed the will of jupiter, he drew down on himself the anger of the ruler of gods and men. jupiter had him chained to a rock on mount caucasus, where a vulture preyed on his liver, which was renewed as fast as devoured. this state of torment might have been brought to an end at any time by prometheus, if he had been willing to submit to his oppressor; for he possessed a secret which involved the stability of jove's throne, and if he would have revealed it, he might have been at once taken into favor. but that he disdained to do. he has therefore become the symbol of magnanimous endurance of unmerited suffering, and strength of will resisting oppression. byron and shelley have both treated this theme. the following are byron's lines: "titan! to whose immortal eyes the sufferings of mortality, seen in their sad reality, were not as things that gods despise; what was thy pity's recompense? a silent suffering, and intense; the rock, the vulture, and the chain; all that the proud can feel of pain; the agony they do not show; the suffocating sense of woe. "thy godlike crime was to be kind; to render with thy precepts less the sum of human wretchedness, and strengthen man with his own mind. and, baffled as thou wert from high, still, in thy patient energy in the endurance and repulse of thine impenetrable spirit, which earth and heaven could not convulse, a mighty lesson we inherit." byron also employs the same allusion, in his "ode to napoleon bonaparte": "or, like the thief of fire from heaven, wilt thou withstand the shock? and share with him--the unforgiven- his vulture and his rock?" chapter iii apollo and daphne--pyramus and thisbe cephalus and procris the slime with which the earth was covered by the waters of the flood produced an excessive fertility, which called forth every variety of production, both bad and good. among the rest, python, an enormous serpent, crept forth, the terror of the people, and lurked in the caves of mount parnassus. apollo slew him with his arrows--weapons which he had not before used against any but feeble animals, hares, wild goats, and such game. in commemoration of this illustrious conquest he instituted the pythian games, in which the victor in feats of strength, swiftness of foot, or in the chariot race was crowned with a wreath of beech leaves; for the laurel was not yet adopted by apollo as his own tree. the famous statue of apollo called the belvedere represents the god after this victory over the serpent python. to this byron alludes in his "childe harold," iv., 161: "... the lord of the unerring bow, the god of life, and poetry, and light, the sun, in human limbs arrayed, and brow all radiant from his triumph in the fight the shaft has just been shot; the arrow bright with an immortal's vengeance; in his eye and nostril, beautiful disdain, and might and majesty flash their full lightnings by, developing in that one glance the deity." apollo and daphne daphne was apollo's first love. it was not brought about by accident, but by the malice of cupid. apollo saw the boy playing with his bow and arrows; and being himself elated with his recent victory over python, he said to him, "what have you to do with warlike weapons, saucy boy? leave them for hands worthy of them. behold the conquest i have won by means of them over the vast serpent who stretched his poisonous body over acres of the plain! be content with your torch, child, and kindle up your flames, as you call them, where you will, but presume not to meddle with my weapons." venus's boy heard these words, and rejoined, "your arrows may strike all things else, apollo, but mine shall strike you." so saying, he took his stand on a rock of parnassus, and drew from his quiver two arrows of different workmanship, one to excite love, the other to repel it. the former was of gold and sharp pointed, the latter blunt and tipped with lead. with the leaden shaft he struck the nymph daphne, the daughter of the river god peneus, and with the golden one apollo, through the heart. forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she abhorred the thought of loving. her delight was in woodland sports and in the spoils of the chase. many lovers sought her, but she spurned them all, ranging the woods, and taking no thought of cupid nor of hymen. her father often said to her, "daughter, you owe me a son-in-law; you owe me grandchildren." she, hating the thought of marriage as a crime, with her beautiful face tinged all over with blushes, threw arms around her father's neck, and said, "dearest father, grant me this favor, that i may always remain unmarried, like diana." he consented, but at the same time said, "your own face will forbid it." apollo loved her, and longed to obtain her; and he who gives oracles to all the world was not wise enough to look into his own fortunes. he saw her hair flung loose over her shoulders, and said, "if so charming in disorder, what would it be if arranged?" he saw her eyes bright as stars; he saw her lips, and was not satisfied with only seeing them. he admired her hands and arms, naked to the shoulder, and whatever was hidden from view he imagined more beautiful still. he followed her; she fled, swifter than the wind, and delayed not a moment at his entreaties. "stay," said he, "daughter of peneus; i am not a foe. do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk. it is for love i pursue you. you make me miserable, for fear you should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and i should be the cause. pray run slower, and i will follow slower. i am no clown, no rude peasant. jupiter is my father, and i am lord of delphos and tenedos, and know all things, present and future. i am the god of song and the lyre. my arrows fly true to the mark; but, alas! an arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart! i am the god of medicine, and know the virtues of all healing plants. alas! i suffer a malady that no balm can cure!" the nymph continued her flight, and left his plea half uttered. and even as she fled she charmed him. the wind blew her garments, and her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. the god grew impatient to find his wooings thrown away, and, sped by cupid, gained upon her in the race. it was like a hound pursuing a hare, with open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal darts forward, slipping from the very grasp. so flew the god and the virgin--he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear. the pursuer is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and his panting breath blows upon her hair. her strength begins to fail, and, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god: "help me, peneus! open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger!" scarcely had she spoken, when a stiffness seized all her limbs; her bosom began to be enclosed in a tender bark; her hair became leaves; her arms became branches; her foot stuck fast in the ground, as a root; her face, became a tree-top, retaining nothing of its former self but its beauty. apollo stood amazed. he touched the stem, and felt the flesh tremble under the new bark. he embraced the branches, and lavished kisses on the wood. the branches shrank from his lips. "since you cannot be my wife," said he, "you shall assuredly be my tree. i will wear you for my crown; i will decorate with you my harp and my quiver; and when the great roman conquerors lead up the triumphal pomp to the capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths for their brows. and, as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be always green, and your leaf know no decay." the nymph, now changed into a laurel tree, bowed its head in grateful acknowledgment. that apollo should be the god both of music and poetry will not appear strange, but that medicine should also be assigned to his province, may. the poet armstrong, himself a physician, thus accounts for it: "music exalts each joy, allays each grief, expels diseases, softens every pain; and hence the wise of ancient days adored one power of physic, melody, and song." the story of apollo and daphne is often alluded to by the poets. waller applies it to the case of one whose amatory verses, though they did not soften the heart of his mistress, yet won for the poet wide-spread fame: "yet what he sung in his immortal strain, though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain. all but the nymph that should redress his wrong, attend his passion and approve his song. like phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise, he caught at love and filled his arms with bays." the following stanza from shelley's "adonais" alludes to byron's early quarrel with the reviewers: "the herded wolves, bold only to pursue; the obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead; the vultures, to the conqueror's banner true, who feed where desolation first has fed, and whose wings rain contagion: how they fled, when like apollo, from his golden bow, the pythian of the age one arrow sped and smiled! the spoilers tempt no second blow; they fawn on the proud feet that spurn them as they go." pyramus and thisbe pyramus was the handsomest youth, and thisbe the fairest maiden, in all babylonia, where semiramis reigned. their parents occupied adjoining houses; and neighborhood brought the young people together, and acquaintance ripened into love. they would gladly have married, but their parents forbade. one thing, however, they could not forbid--that love should glow with equal ardor in the bosoms of both. they conversed by signs and glances, and the fire burned more intensely for being covered up. in the wall that parted the two houses there was a crack, caused by some fault in the structure. no one had remarked it before, but the lovers discovered it. what will not love discover! it afforded a passage to the voice; and tender messages used to pass backward and forward through the gap. as they stood, pyramus on this side, thisbe on that, their breaths would mingle. "cruel wall," they said, "why do you keep two lovers apart? but we will not be ungrateful. we owe you, we confess, the privilege of transmitting loving words to willing ears." such words they uttered on different sides of the wall; and when night came and they must say farewell, they pressed their lips upon the wall, she on her side, he on his, as they could come no nearer. next morning, when aurora had put out the stars, and the sun had melted the frost from the grass, they met at the accustomed spot. then, after lamenting their hard fate, they agreed, that next night, when all was still, they would slip away from watchful eyes, leave their dwellings and walk out into the fields; and to insure a meeting, repair to a well-known edifice standing without the city's bounds, called the tomb of ninus, and that the one who came first should await the other at the foot of a certain tree. it was a white mulberry tree, and stood near a cool spring. all was agreed on, and they waited impatiently for the sun to go down beneath the waters and night to rise up from them. then cautiously thisbe stole forth, unobserved by the family, her head covered with a veil, made her way to the monument and sat down under the tree. as she sat alone in the dim light of the evening she descried a lioness, her jaws reeking with recent slaughter, approaching the fountain to slake her thirst. thisbe fled at the sight, and sought refuge in the hollow of a rock. as she fled she dropped her veil. the lioness after drinking at the spring turned to retreat to the woods, and seeing the veil on the ground, tossed and rent it with her bloody mouth. pyramus, having been delayed, now approached the place of meeting. he saw in the sand the footsteps of the lion, and the color fled from his cheeks at the sight. presently he found the veil all rent and bloody. "o hapless girl," said he, "i have been the cause of thy death! thou, more worthy of life than i, hast fallen the first victim. i will follow. i am the guilty cause, in tempting thee forth to a place of such peril, and not being myself on the spot to guard thee. come forth, ye lions, from the rocks, and tear this guilty body with your teeth." he took up the veil, carried it with him to the appointed tree, and covered it with kisses and with tears. "my blood also shall stain your texture," said he, and drawing his sword plunged it into his heart. the blood spurted from the wound, and tinged the white mulberries of the tree all red; and sinking into the earth reached the roots, so that the red color mounted through the trunk to the fruit. by this time thisbe, still trembling with fear, yet wishing not to disappoint her lover, stepped cautiously forth, looking anxiously for the youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped. when she came to the spot and saw the changed color of the mulberries she doubted whether it was the same place. while she hesitated she saw the form of one struggling in the agonies of death. she started back, a shudder ran through her frame as a ripple on the face of the still water when a sudden breeze sweeps over it. but as soon as she recognized her lover, she screamed and beat her breast, embracing the lifeless body, pouring tears into its wounds, and imprinting kisses on the cold lips. "o pyramus," she cried, "what has done this? answer me, pyramus; it is your own thisbe that speaks. hear me, dearest, and lift that drooping head!" at the name of thisbe pyramus opened his eyes, then closed them again. she saw her veil stained with blood and the scabbard empty of its sword. "thy own hand has slain thee, and for my sake," she said. "i too can be brave for once, and my love is as strong as thine. i will follow thee in death, for i have been the cause; and death which alone could part us shall not prevent my joining thee. and ye, unhappy parents of us both, deny us not our united request. as love and death have joined us, let one tomb contain us. and thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter. let thy berries still serve for memorials of our blood." so saying she plunged the sword into her breast. her parents ratified her wish, the gods also ratified it. the two bodies were buried in one sepulchre, and the tree ever after brought forth purple berries, as it does to this day. moore, in the "sylph's ball," speaking of davy's safety lamp, is reminded of the wall that separated thisbe and her lover: "o for that lamp's metallic gauze, that curtain of protecting wire, which davy delicately draws around illicit, dangerous fire! the wall he sets 'twixt flame and air, (like that which barred young thisbe's bliss,) through whose small holes this dangerous pair may see each other, but not kiss." in mickle's translation of the "lusiad" occurs the following allusion to the story of pyramus and thisbe, and the metamorphosis of the mulberries. the poet is describing the island of love: "... here each gift pomona's hand bestows in cultured garden, free uncultured flows, the flavor sweeter and the hue more fair than e'er was fostered by the hand of care. the cherry here in shining crimson glows, and stained with lovers' blood, in pendent rows, the mulberries o'erload the bending boughs." if any of our young readers can be so hard-hearted as to enjoy a laugh at the expense of poor pyramus and thisbe, they may find an opportunity by turning to shakspeare's play of the "midsummer night's dream," where it is most amusingly burlesqued. cephalus and procris cephalus was a beautiful youth and fond of manly sports. he would rise before the dawn to pursue the chase. aurora saw him when she first looked forth, fell in love with him, and stole him away. but cephalus was just married to a charming wife whom he devotedly loved. her name was procris. she was a favorite of diana, the goddess of hunting, who had given her a dog which could outrun every rival, and a javelin which would never fail of its mark; and procris gave these presents to her husband. cephalus was so happy in his wife that he resisted all the entreaties of aurora, and she finally dismissed him in displeasure, saying, "go, ungrateful mortal, keep your wife, whom, if i am not much mistaken, you will one day be very sorry you ever saw again." cephalus returned, and was as happy as ever in his wife and his woodland sports. now it happened some angry deity had sent a ravenous fox to annoy the country; and the hunters turned out in great strength to capture it. their efforts were all in vain; no dog could run it down; and at last they came to cephalus to borrow his famous dog, whose name was lelaps. no sooner was the dog let loose than he darted off, quicker than their eye could follow him. if they had not seen his footprints in the sand they would have thought he flew. cephalus and others stood on a hill and saw the race. the fox tried every art; he ran in a circle and turned on his track, the dog close upon him, with open jaws, snapping at his heels, but biting only the air. cephalus was about to use his javelin, when suddenly he saw both dog and game stop instantly. the heavenly powers who had given both were not willing that either should conquer. in the very attitude of life and action they were turned into stone. so lifelike and natural did they look, you would have thought, as you looked at them, that one was going to bark, the other to leap forward. cephalus, though he had lost his dog, still continued to take delight in the chase. he would go out at early morning, ranging the woods and hills unaccompanied by any one, needing no help, for his javelin was a sure weapon in all cases. fatigued with hunting, when the sun got high he would seek a shady nook where a cool stream flowed, and, stretched on the grass, with his garments thrown aside, would enjoy the breeze. sometimes he would say aloud, "come, sweet breeze, come and fan my breast, come and allay the heat that burns me." some one passing by one day heard him talking in this way to the air, and, foolishly believing that he was talking to some maiden, went and told the secret to procris, cephalus's wife. love is credulous. procris, at the sudden shock, fainted away. presently recovering, she said, "it cannot be true; i will not believe it unless i myself am a witness to it." so she waited, with anxious heart, till the next morning, when cephalus went to hunt as usual. then she stole out after him, and concealed herself in the place where the informer directed her. cephalus came as he was wont when tired with sport, and stretched himself on the green bank, saying, "come, sweet breeze, come and fan me; you know how i love you! you make the groves and my solitary rambles delightful." he was running on in this way when he heard, or thought he heard, a sound as of a sob in the bushes. supposing it some wild animal, he threw his javelin at the spot. a cry from his beloved procris told him that the weapon had too surely met its mark. he rushed to the place, and found her bleeding, and with sinking strength endeavoring to draw forth from the wound the javelin, her own gift. cephalus raised her from the earth, strove to stanch the blood, and called her to revive and not to leave him miserable, to reproach himself with her death. she opened her feeble eyes, and forced herself to utter these few words: "i implore you, if you have ever loved me, if i have ever deserved kindness at your hands, my husband, grant me this last request; do not marry that odious breeze!" this disclosed the whole mystery: but alas! what advantage to disclose it now! she died; but her face wore a calm expression, and she looked pityingly and forgivingly on her husband when he made her understand the truth. moore, in his "legendary ballads," has one on cephalus and procris, beginning thus: "a hunter once in a grove reclined, to shun the noon's bright eye, and oft he wooed the wandering wind to cool his brow with its sigh while mute lay even the wild bee's hum, nor breath could stir the aspen's hair, his song was still, 'sweet air, o come!' while echo answered, 'come, sweet air!'" chapter iv juno and her rivals, io and callisto--diana and actaeon--latona and the rustics juno one day perceived it suddenly grow dark, and immediately suspected that her husband had raised a cloud to hide some of his doings that would not bear the light. she brushed away the cloud, and saw her husband on the banks of a glassy river, with a beautiful heifer standing near him. juno suspected the heifer's form concealed some fair nymph of mortal mould--as was, indeed the case; for it was io, the daughter of the river god inachus, whom jupiter had been flirting with, and, when he became aware of the approach of his wife, had changed into that form. juno joined her husband, and noticing the heifer praised its beauty, and asked whose it was, and of what herd. jupiter, to stop questions, replied that it was a fresh creation from the earth. juno asked to have it as a gift. what could jupiter do? he was loath to give his mistress to his wife; yet how refuse so trifling a present as a simple heifer? he could not, without exciting suspicion; so he consented. the goddess was not yet relieved of her suspicions; so she delivered the heifer to argus, to be strictly watched. now argus had a hundred eyes in his head, and never went to sleep with more than two at a time, so that he kept watch of io constantly. he suffered her to feed through the day, and at night tied her up with a vile rope round her neck. she would have stretched out her arms to implore freedom of argus, but she had no arms to stretch out, and her voice was a bellow that frightened even herself. she saw her father and her sisters, went near them, and suffered them to pat her back, and heard them admire her beauty. her father reached her a tuft of grass, and she licked the outstretched hand. she longed to make herself known to him, and would have uttered her wish; but, alas! words were wanting. at length she bethought herself of writing, and inscribed her name-it was a short one--with her hoof on the sand. inachus recognized it, and discovering that his daughter, whom he had long sought in vain, was hidden under this disguise, mourned over her, and, embracing her white neck, exclaimed, "alas! my daughter, it would have been a less grief to have lost you altogether!" while he thus lamented, argus, observing, came and drove her away, and took his seat on a high bank, from whence he could see all around in every direction. jupiter was troubled at beholding the sufferings of his mistress, and calling mercury told him to go and despatch argus. mercury made haste, put his winged slippers on his feet, and cap on his head, took his sleep-producing wand, and leaped down from the heavenly towers to the earth. there he laid aside his wings, and kept only his wand, with which he presented himself as a shepherd driving his flock. as he strolled on he blew upon his pipes. these were what are called the syrinx or pandean pipes. argus listened with delight, for he had never seen the instrument before. "young man," said he, "come and take a seat by me on this stone. there is no better place for your flocks to graze in than hereabouts, and here is a pleasant shade such as shepherds love." mercury sat down, talked, and told stories till it grew late, and played upon his pipes his most soothing strains, hoping to lull the watchful eyes to sleep, but all in vain; for argus still contrived to keep some of his eyes open though he shut the rest. among other stories, mercury told him how the instrument on which he played was invented. "there was a certain nymph, whose name was syrinx, who was much beloved by the satyrs and spirits of the wood; but she would have none of them, but was a faithful worshipper of diana, and followed the chase. you would have thought it was diana herself, had you seen her in her hunting dress, only that her bow was of horn and diana's of silver. one day, as she was returning from the chase, pan met her, told her just this, and added more of the same sort. she ran away, without stopping to hear his compliments, and he pursued till she came to the bank of the river, where he overtook her, and she had only time to call for help on her friends the water nymphs. they heard and consented. pan threw his arms around what he supposed to be the form of the nymph, and found he embraced only a tuft of reeds! as he breathed a sigh, the air sounded through the reeds, and produced a plaintive melody. the god, charmed with the novelty and with the sweetness of the music, said, 'thus, then, at least, you shall be mine.' and he took some of the reeds, and placing them together, of unequal lengths, side by side, made an instrument which he called syrinx, in honor of the nymph." before mercury had finished his story he saw argus's eyes all asleep. as his head nodded forward on his breast, mercury with one stroke cut his neck through, and tumbled his head down the rocks. o hapless argus! the light of your hundred eyes is quenched at once! juno took them and put them as ornaments on the tail of her peacock, where they remain to this day. but the vengeance of juno was not yet satiated. she sent a gadfly to torment io, who fled over the whole world from its pursuit. she swam through the ionian sea, which derived its name from her, then roamed over the plains of illyria, ascended mount haemus, and crossed the thracian strait, thence named the bosphorus (cowford), rambled on through scythia, and the country of the cimmerians, and arrived at last on the banks of the nile. at length jupiter interceded for her, and upon his promising not to pay her any more attentions juno consented to restore her to her form. it was curious to see her gradually recover her former self. the coarse hairs fell from her body, her horns shrank up, her eyes grew narrower, her mouth shorter; hands and fingers came instead of hoofs to her forefeet; in fine there was nothing left of the heifer, except her beauty. at first she was afraid to speak, for fear she should low, but gradually she recovered her confidence and was restored to her father and sisters. in a poem dedicated to leigh hunt, by keats, the following allusion to the story of pan and syrinx occurs: "so did he feel who pulled the bough aside, that we might look into a forest wide, telling us how fair trembling syrinx fled arcadian pan, with such a fearful dread. poor nymph--poor pan--how he did weep to find nought but a lovely sighing of the wind along the reedy stream; a half-heard strain. full of sweet desolation, balmy pain." callisto callisto was another maiden who excited the jealousy of juno, and the goddess changed her into a bear. "i will take away," said she, "that beauty with which you have captivated my husband." down fell callisto on her hands and knees; she tried to stretch out her arms in supplication--they were already beginning to be covered with black hair. her hands grew rounded, became armed with crooked claws, and served for feet; her mouth, which jove used to praise for its beauty, became a horrid pair of jaws; her voice, which if unchanged would have moved the heart to pity, became a growl, more fit to inspire terror. yet her former disposition remained, and with continual groaning, she bemoaned her fate, and stood upright as well as she could, lifting up her paws to beg for mercy, and felt that jove was unkind, though she could not tell him so. ah, how often, afraid to stay in the woods all night alone, she wandered about the neighborhood of her former haunts; how often, frightened by the dogs, did she, so lately a huntress, fly in terror from the hunters! often she fled from the wild beasts, forgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she was, was afraid of the bears. one day a youth espied her as he was hunting. she saw him and recognized him as her own son, now grown a young man. she stopped and felt inclined to embrace him. as she was about to approach, he, alarmed, raised his hunting spear, and was on the point of transfixing her, when jupiter, beholding, arrested the crime, and snatching away both of them, placed them in the heavens as the great and little bear. juno was in a rage to see her rival so set in honor, and hastened to ancient tethys and oceanus, the powers of ocean, and in answer to their inquiries thus told the cause of her coming: "do you ask why i, the queen of the gods, have left the heavenly plains and sought your depths? learn that i am supplanted in heaven--my place is given to another. you will hardly believe me; but look when night darkens the world, and you shall see the two of whom i have so much reason to complain exalted to the heavens, in that part where the circle is the smallest, in the neighborhood of the pole. why should any one hereafter tremble at the thought of offending juno, when such rewards are the consequence of my displeasure? see what i have been able to effect! i forbade her to wear the human form--she is placed among the stars! so do my punishments result-such is the extent of my power! better that she should have resumed her former shape, as i permitted io to do. perhaps he means to marry her, and put me away! but you, my foster-parents, if you feel for me, and see with displeasure this unworthy treatment of me, show it, i beseech you, by forbidding this guilty couple from coming into your waters." the powers of the ocean assented, and consequently the two constellations of the great and little bear move round and round in heaven, but never sink, as the other stars do, beneath the ocean. milton alludes to the fact that the constellation of the bear never sets, when he says: "let my lamp at midnight hour be seen in some high lonely tower, where i may oft outwatch the bear," etc. and prometheus, in j. r. lowell's poem, says: "one after one the stars have risen and set, sparkling upon the hoar frost of my chain; the bear that prowled all night about the fold of the north-star, hath shrunk into his den, scared by the blithesome footsteps of the dawn." the last star in the tail of the little bear is the pole-star, called also the cynosure. milton says: "straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures while the landscape round it measures. towers and battlements it sees bosomed high in tufted trees, where perhaps some beauty lies the cynosure of neighboring eyes" the reference here is both to the pole-star as the guide of mariners, and to the magnetic attraction of the north he calls it also the "star of arcady," because callisto's boy was named arcas, and they lived in arcadia. in "comus," the brother, benighted in the woods, says: "... some gentle taper! though a rush candle, from the wicker hole of some clay habitation, visit us with thy long levelled rule of streaming light, and thou shalt be our star of arcady, or tyrian cynosure." diana and actaeon thus in two instances we have seen juno's severity to her rivals; now let us learn how a virgin goddess punished an invader of her privacy. it was midday, and the sun stood equally distant from either goal, when young actaeon, son of king cadmus, thus addressed the youths who with him were hunting the stag in the mountains: "friends, our nets and our weapons are wet with the blood of our victims; we have had sport enough for one day, and to-morrow we can renew our labors. now, while phoebus parches the earth, let us put by our implements and indulge ourselves with rest." there was a valley thick enclosed with cypresses and pines, sacred to the huntress queen, diana. in the extremity of the valley was a cave, not adorned with art, but nature had counterfeited art in its construction, for she had turned the arch of its roof with stones as delicately fitted as if by the hand of man. a fountain burst out from one side, whose open basin was bounded by a grassy rim. here the goddess of the woods used to come when weary with hunting and lave her virgin limbs in the sparkling water. one day, having repaired thither with her nymphs, she handed her javelin, her quiver, and her bow to one, her robe to another, while a third unbound the sandals from her feet. then crocale, the most skilful of them, arranged her hair, and nephele, hyale, and the rest drew water in capacious urns. while the goddess was thus employed in the labors of the toilet, behold actaeon, having quitted his companions, and rambling without any especial object, came to the place, led thither by his destiny. as he presented himself at the entrance of the cave, the nymphs, seeing a man, screamed and rushed towards the goddess to hide her with their bodies. but she was taller than the rest and overtopped them all by a head. such a color as tinges the clouds at sunset or at dawn came over the countenance of diana thus taken by surprise. surrounded as she was by her nymphs, she yet turned half away, and sought with a sudden impulse for her arrows. as they were not at hand, she dashed the water into the face of the intruder, adding these words: "now go and tell, if you can, that you have seen diana unapparelled." immediately a pair of branching stag's horns grew out of his head, his neck gained in length, his ears grew sharp-pointed, his hands became feet, his arms long legs, his body was covered with a hairy spotted hide. fear took the place of his former boldness, and the hero fled. he could not but admire his own speed; but when he saw his horns in the water, "ah, wretched me!" he would have said, but no sound followed the effort. he groaned, and tears flowed down the face which had taken the place of his own. yet his consciousness remained. what shall he do?--go home to seek the palace, or lie hid in the woods? the latter he was afraid, the former he was ashamed, to do. while he hesitated the dogs saw him. first melampus, a spartan dog, gave the signal with his bark, then pamphagus, dorceus, lelaps, theron, nape, tigris, and all the rest, rushed after him swifter than the wind. over rocks and cliffs, through mountain gorges that seemed impracticable, he fled and they followed. where he had often chased the stag and cheered on his pack, his pack now chased him, cheered on by his huntsmen. he longed to cry out, "i am actaeon; recognize your master!" but the words came not at his will. the air resounded with the bark of the dogs. presently one fastened on his back, another seized his shoulder. while they held their master, the rest of the pack came up and buried their teeth in his flesh. he groaned,--not in a human voice, yet certainly not in a stag's,--and falling on his knees, raised his eyes, and would have raised his arms in supplication, if he had had them. his friends and fellow-huntsmen cheered on the dogs, and looked everywhere for actaeon, calling on him to join the sport. at the sound of his name he turned his head, and heard them regret that he should be away. he earnestly wished he was. he would have been well pleased to see the exploits of his dogs, but to feel them was too much. they were all around him, rending and tearing; and it was not till they had torn his life out that the anger of diana was satisfied. in shelley's poem "adonais" is the following allusion to the story of actaeon: "'midst others of less note came one frail form, a phantom among men: companionless as the last cloud of an expiring storm, whose thunder is its knell; he, as i guess, had gazed on nature's naked loveliness, actaeon-like, and now he fled astray with feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness; and his own thoughts, along that rugged way, pursued like raging hounds their father and their prey." stanza 31. the allusion is probably to shelley himself. latona and the rustics some thought the goddess in this instance more severe than was just, while others praised her conduct as strictly consistent with her virgin dignity. as, usual, the recent event brought older ones to mind, and one of the bystanders told this story: "some countrymen of lycia once insulted the goddess latona, but not with impunity. when i was young, my father, who had grown too old for active labors, sent me to lycia to drive thence some choice oxen, and there i saw the very pond and marsh where the wonder happened. near by stood an ancient altar, black with the smoke of sacrifice and almost buried among the reeds. i inquired whose altar it might be, whether of faunus or the naiads, or some god of the neighboring mountain, and one of the country people replied, 'no mountain or river god possesses this altar, but she whom royal juno in her jealousy drove from land to land, denying her any spot of earth whereon to rear her twins. bearing in her arms the infant deities, latona reached this land, weary with her burden and parched with thirst. by chance she espied on the bottom of the valley this pond of clear water, where the country people were at work gathering willows and osiers. the goddess approached, and kneeling on the bank would have slaked her thirst in the cool stream, but the rustics forbade her. 'why do you refuse me water?' said she; 'water is free to all. nature allows no one to claim as property the sunshine, the air, or the water. i come to take my share of the common blessing. yet i ask it of you as a favor. i have no intention of washing my limbs in it, weary though they be, but only to quench my thirst. my mouth is so dry that i can hardly speak. a draught of water would be nectar to me; it would revive me, and i would own myself indebted to you for life itself. let these infants move your pity, who stretch out their little arms as if to plead for me;' and the children, as it happened, were stretching out their arms. "who would not have been moved with these gentle words of the goddess? but these clowns persisted in their rudeness; they even added jeers and threats of violence if she did not leave the place. nor was this all. they waded into the pond and stirred up the mud with their feet, so as to make the water unfit to drink. latona was so angry that she ceased to mind her thirst. she no longer supplicated the clowns, but lifting her hands to heaven exclaimed, 'may they never quit that pool, but pass their lives there!' and it came to pass accordingly. they now live in the water, sometimes totally submerged, then raising their heads above the surface or swimming upon it. sometimes they come out upon the bank, but soon leap back again into the water. they still use their base voices in railing, and though they have the water all to themselves, are not ashamed to croak in the midst of it. their voices are harsh, their throats bloated, their mouths have become stretched by constant railing, their necks have shrunk up and disappeared, and their heads are joined to their bodies. their backs are green, their disproportioned bellies white, and in short they are now frogs, and dwell in the slimy pool." this story explains the allusion in one of milton's sonnets, "on the detraction which followed upon his writing certain treatises." "i did but prompt the age to quit their clogs by the known laws of ancient liberty, when straight a barbarous noise environs me of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs. as when those hinds that were transformed to frogs railed at latona's twin-born progeny, which after held the sun and moon in fee." the persecution which latona experienced from juno is alluded to in the story. the tradition was that the future mother of apollo and diana, flying from the wrath of juno, besought all the islands of the aegean to afford her a place of rest, but all feared too much the potent queen of heaven to assist her rival. delos alone consented to become the birthplace of the future deities. delos was then a floating island; but when latona arrived there, jupiter fastened it with adamantine chains to the bottom of the sea, that it might be a secure resting-place for his beloved. byron alludes to delos in his "don juan": "the isles of greece! the isles of greece! where burning sappho loved and sung, where grew the arts of war and peace, where delos rose and phoebus sprung!" chapter v phaeton phaeton was the son of apollo and the nymph clymene. one day a schoolfellow laughed at the idea of his being the son of the god, and phaeton went in rage and shame and reported it to his mother. "if," said he, "i am indeed of heavenly birth, give me, mother, some proof of it, and establish my claim to the honor." clymene stretched forth her hands towards the skies, and said, "i call to witness the sun which looks down upon us, that i have told you the truth. if i speak falsely, let this be the last time i behold his light. but it needs not much labor to go and inquire for yourself; the land whence the sun rises lies next to ours. go and demand of him whether he will own you as a son." phaeton heard with delight. he travelled to india, which lies directly in the regions of sunrise; and, full of hope and pride, approached the goal whence his parent begins his course. the palace of the sun stood reared aloft on columns, glittering with gold and precious stones, while polished ivory formed the ceilings, and silver the doors. the workmanship surpassed the material; [footnote: see proverbial expressions.] for upon the walls vulcan had represented earth, sea, and skies, with their inhabitants. in the sea were the nymphs, some sporting in the waves, some riding on the backs of fishes, while others sat upon the rocks and dried their sea-green hair. their faces were not all alike, nor yet unlike,--but such as sisters' ought to be. [footnote: see proverbial expressions.] the earth had its towns and forests and rivers and rustic divinities. over all was carved the likeness of the glorious heaven; and on the silver doors the twelve signs of the zodiac, six on each side. clymene's son advanced up the steep ascent, and entered the halls of his disputed father. he approached the paternal presence, but stopped at a distance, for the light was more than he could bear. phoebus, arrayed in a purple vesture, sat on a throne, which glittered as with diamonds. on his right hand and his left stood the day, the month, and the year, and, at regular intervals, the hours. spring stood with her head crowned with flowers, and summer, with garment cast aside, and a garland formed of spears of ripened grain, and autumn, with his feet stained with grape-juice, and icy winter, with his hair stiffened with hoar frost. surrounded by these attendants, the sun, with the eye that sees everything, beheld the youth dazzled with the novelty and splendor of the scene, and inquired the purpose of his errand. the youth replied, "o light of the boundless world, phoebus, my father,--if you permit me to use that name,--give me some proof, i beseech you, by which i may be known as yours." he ceased; and his father, laying aside the beams that shone all around his head, bade him approach, and embracing him, said, "my son, you deserve not to be disowned, and i confirm what your mother has told you. to put an end to your doubts, ask what you will, the gift shall be yours. i call to witness that dreadful lake, which i never saw, but which we gods swear by in our most solemn engagements." phaeton immediately asked to be permitted for one day to drive the chariot of the sun. the father repented of his promise; thrice and four times he shook his radiant head in warning. "i have spoken rashly," said he; "this only request i would fain deny. i beg you to withdraw it. it is not a safe boon, nor one, my phaeton, suited to your youth and strength. your lot is mortal, and you ask what is beyond a mortal's power. in your ignorance you aspire to do that which not even the gods themselves may do. none but myself may drive the flaming car of day. not even jupiter, whose terrible right arm hurls the thunderbolts. the first part of the way is steep, and such as the horses when fresh in the morning can hardly climb; the middle is high up in the heavens, whence i myself can scarcely, without alarm, look down and behold the earth and sea stretched beneath me. the last part of the road descends rapidly, and requires most careful driving. tethys, who is waiting to receive me, often trembles for me lest i should fall headlong. add to all this, the heaven is all the time turning round and carrying the stars with it. i have to be perpetually on my guard lest that movement, which sweeps everything else along, should hurry me also away. suppose i should lend you the chariot, what would you do? could you keep your course while the sphere was revolving under you? perhaps you think that there are forests and cities, the abodes of gods, and palaces and temples on the way. on the contrary, the road is through the midst of frightful monsters. you pass by the horns of the bull, in front of the archer, and near the lion's jaws, and where the scorpion stretches its arms in one direction and the crab in another. nor will you find it easy to guide those horses, with their breasts full of fire that they breathe forth from their mouths and nostrils. i can scarcely govern them myself, when they are unruly and resist the reins. beware, my son, lest i be the donor of a fatal gift; recall your request while yet you may. do you ask me for a proof that you are sprung from my blood? i give you a proof in my fears for you. look at my face--i would that you could look into my breast, you would there see all a father's anxiety. finally," he continued, "look round the world and choose whatever you will of what earth or sea contains most precious--ask it and fear no refusal. this only i pray you not to urge. it is not honor, but destruction you seek. why do you hang round my neck and still entreat me? you shall have it if you persist,--the oath is sworn and must be kept,--but i beg you to choose more wisely." he ended; but the youth rejected all admonition and held to his demand. so, having resisted as long as he could, phoebus at last led the way to where stood the lofty chariot. it was of gold, the gift of vulcan; the axle was of gold, the pole and wheels of gold, the spokes of silver. along the seat were rows of chrysolites and diamonds which reflected all around the brightness of the sun. while the daring youth, gazed in admiration, the early dawn threw open the purple doors of the east, and showed the pathway strewn with roses. the stars withdrew, marshalled by the day-star, which last of all retired also. the father, when he saw the earth beginning to glow, and the moon preparing to retire, ordered the hours to harness up the horses. they obeyed, and led forth from the lofty stalls the steeds full fed with ambrosia, and attached the reins. then the father bathed the face of his son with a powerful unguent, and made him capable of enduring the brightness of the flame. he set the rays on his head, and, with a foreboding sigh, said, "if, my son, you will in this at least heed my advice, spare the whip and hold tight the reins. they go fast enough of their own accord; the labor is to hold them in. you are not to take the straight road directly between the five circles, but turn off to the left. keep within the limit of the middle zone, and avoid the northern and the southern alike. you will see the marks of the wheels, and they will serve to guide you. and, that the skies and the earth may each receive their due share of heat, go not too high, or you will burn the heavenly dwellings, nor too low, or you will set the earth on fire; the middle course is safest and best. [footnote: see proverbial expressions] and now i leave you to your chance, which i hope will plan better for you than you have done for yourself. night is passing out of the western gates and we can delay no longer. take the reins; but if at last your heart fails you, and you will benefit by my advice, stay where you are in safety, and suffer me to light and warm the earth." the agile youth sprang into the chariot, stood erect, and grasped the reins with delight, pouring out thanks to his reluctant parent. meanwhile the horses fill the air with their snortings and fiery breath, and stamp the ground impatient. now the bars are let down, and the boundless plain of the universe lies open before them. they dart forward and cleave the opposing clouds, and outrun the morning breezes which started from the same eastern goal. the steeds soon perceived that the load they drew was lighter than usual; and as a ship without ballast is tossed hither and thither on the sea, so the chariot, without its accustomed weight, was dashed about as if empty. they rush headlong and leave the travelled road. he is alarmed, and knows not how to guide them; nor, if he knew, has he the power. then, for the first time, the great and little bear were scorched with heat, and would fain, if it were possible, have plunged into the water; and the serpent which lies coiled up round the north pole, torpid and harmless, grew warm, and with warmth felt its rage revive. bootes, they say, fled away, though encumbered with his plough, and all unused to rapid motion. when hapless phaeton looked down upon the earth, now spreading in vast extent beneath him, he grew pale and his knees shook with terror. in spite of the glare all around him, the sight of his eyes grew dim. he wished he had never touched his father's horses, never learned his parentage, never prevailed in his request. he is borne along like a vessel that flies before a tempest, when the pilot can do no more and betakes himself to his prayers. what shall he do? much of the heavenly road is left behind, but more remains before. he turns his eyes from one direction to the other; now to the goal whence he began his course, now to the realms of sunset which he is not destined to reach. he loses his selfcommand, and knows not what to do,--whether to draw tight the reins or throw them loose; he forgets the names of the horses. he sees with terror the monstrous forms scattered over the surface of heaven. here the scorpion extended his two great arms, with his tail and crooked claws stretching over two signs of the zodiac. when the boy beheld him, reeking with poison and menacing with his fangs, his courage failed, and the reins fell from his hands. the horses, when they felt them loose on their backs, dashed headlong, and unrestrained went off into unknown regions of the sky, in among the stars, hurling the chariot over pathless places, now up in high heaven, now down almost to the earth. the moon saw with astonishment her brother's chariot running beneath her own. the clouds begin to smoke, and the mountain tops take fire; the fields are parched with heat, the plants wither, the trees with their leafy branches burn, the harvest is ablaze! but these are small things. great cities perished, with their walls and towers; whole nations with their people were consumed to ashes! the forest-clad mountains burned, athos and taurus and tmolus and oete; ida, once celebrated for fountains, but now all dry; the muses' mountain helicon, and haemus; aetna, with fires within and without, and parnassus, with his two peaks, and rhodope, forced at last to part with his snowy crown. her cold climate was no protection to scythia, caucasus burned, and ossa and pindus, and, greater than both, olympus; the alps high in air, and the apennines crowned with clouds. then phaeton beheld the world on fire, and felt the heat intolerable. the air he breathed was like the air of a furnace and full of burning ashes, and the smoke was of a pitchy darkness. he dashed forward he knew not whither. then, it is believed, the people of aethiopia became black by the blood being forced so suddenly to the surface, and the libyan desert was dried up to the condition in which it remains to this day. the nymphs of the fountains, with dishevelled hair, mourned their waters, nor were the rivers safe beneath their banks: tanais smoked, and caicus, xanthus, and meander; babylonian euphrates and ganges, tagus with golden sands, and cayster where the swans resort. nile fled away and hid his head in the desert, and there it still remains concealed. where he used to discharge his waters through seven mouths into the sea, there seven dry channels alone remained. the earth cracked open, and through the chinks light broke into tartarus, and frightened the king of shadows and his queen. the sea shrank up. where before was water, it became a dry plain; and the mountains that lie beneath the waves lifted up their heads and became islands. the fishes sought the lowest depths, and the dolphins no longer ventured as usual to sport on the surface. even nereus, and his wife doris, with the nereids, their daughters, sought the deepest caves for refuge. thrice neptune essayed to raise his head above the surface, and thrice was driven back by the heat. earth, surrounded as she was by waters, yet with head and shoulders bare, screening her face with her hand, looked up to heaven, and with a husky voice called on jupiter: "o ruler of the gods, if i have deserved this treatment, and it is your will that i perish with fire, why withhold your thunderbolts? let me at least fall by your hand. is this the reward of my fertility, of my obedient service? is it for this that i have supplied herbage for cattle, and fruits for men, and frankincense for your altars? but if i am unworthy of regard, what has my brother ocean done to deserve such a fate? if neither of us can excite your pity, think, i pray you, of your own heaven, and behold how both the poles are smoking which sustain your palace, which must fall if they be destroyed. atlas faints, and scarce holds up his burden. if sea, earth, and heaven perish, we fall into ancient chaos. save what yet remains to us from the devouring flame. o, take thought for our deliverance in this awful moment!" thus spoke earth, and overcome with heat and thirst, could say no more. then jupiter omnipotent, calling to witness all the gods, including him who had lent the chariot, and showing them that all was lost unless speedy remedy were applied, mounted the lofty tower from whence he diffuses clouds over the earth, and hurls the forked lightnings. but at that time not a cloud was to be found to interpose for a screen to earth, nor was a shower remaining unexhausted. he thundered, and brandishing a lightning bolt in his right hand launched it against the charioteer, and struck him at the same moment from his seat and from existence! phaeton, with his hair on fire, fell headlong, like a shooting star which marks the heavens with its brightness as it falls, and eridanus, the great river, received him and cooled his burning frame. the italian naiads reared a tomb for him, and inscribed these words upon the stone: "driver of phoebus' chariot phaeton, struck by jove's thunder, rests beneath this stone. he could not rule his father's car of fire, yet was it much so nobly to aspire" [footnote: see proverbial expressions] his sisters, the heliades, as they lamented his fate, were turned into poplar trees, on the banks of the river, and their tears, which continued to flow, became amber as they dropped into the stream. milman, in his poem of "samor," makes the following allusion to phaeton's story: "as when the palsied universe aghast lay mute and still, when drove, so poets sing, the sun-born youth devious through heaven's affrighted signs his sire's ill-granted chariot. him the thunderer hurled from th' empyrean headlong to the gulf of the half-parched eridanus, where weep even now the sister trees their amber tears o'er phaeton untimely dead" in the beautiful lines of walter savage landor, descriptive of the sea-shell, there is an allusion to the sun's palace and chariot. the water-nymph says: "i have sinuous shells of pearly hue within, and things that lustre have imbibed in the sun's palace porch, where when unyoked his chariot wheel stands midway on the wave. shake one and it awakens; then apply its polished lip to your attentive ear, and it remembers its august abodes, and murmurs as the ocean murmurs there." --gebir, book i. chapter vi midas--baucis and philemon bacchus, on a certain occasion, found his old schoolmaster and foster-father, silenus, missing. the old man had been drinking, and in that state wandered away, and was found by some peasants, who carried him to their king, midas. midas recognized him, and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with an unceasing round of jollity. on the eleventh day he brought silenus back, and restored him in safety to his pupil. whereupon bacchus offered midas his choice of a reward, whatever he might wish. he asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into gold. bacchus consented, though sorry that he had not made a better choice. midas went his way, rejoicing in his new-acquired power, which he hastened to put to the test. he could scarce believe his eyes when he found a twig of an oak, which he plucked from the branch, become gold in his hand. he took up a stone; it changed to gold. he touched a sod; it did the same. he took an apple from the tree; you would have thought he had robbed the garden of the hesperides. his joy knew no bounds, and as soon as he got home, he ordered the servants to set a splendid repast on the table. then he found to his dismay that whether he touched bread, it hardened in his hand; or put a morsel to his lips, it defied his teeth. he took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his throat like melted gold. in consternation at the unprecedented affliction, he strove to divest himself of his power; he hated the gift he had lately coveted. but all in vain; starvation seemed to await him. he raised his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to bacchus, begging to be delivered from his glittering destruction. bacchus, merciful deity, heard and consented. "go," said he, "to the river pactolus, trace the stream to its fountain-head, there plunge your head and body in, and wash away your fault and its punishment." he did so, and scarce had he touched the waters before the goldcreating power passed into them, and the river-sands became changed into gold, as they remain to this day. thenceforth midas, hating wealth and splendor, dwelt in the country, and became a worshipper of pan, the god of the fields. on a certain occasion pan had the temerity to compare his music with that of apollo, and to challenge the god of the lyre to a trial of skill. the challenge was accepted, and tmolus, the mountain god, was chosen umpire. the senior took his seat, and cleared away the trees from his ears to listen. at a given signal pan blew on his pipes, and with his rustic melody gave great satisfaction to himself and his faithful follower midas, who happened to be present. then tmolus turned his head toward the sun-god, and all his trees turned with him. apollo rose, his brow wreathed with parnassian laurel, while his robe of tyrian purple swept the ground. in his left hand he held the lyre, and with his right hand struck the strings. ravished with the harmony, tmolus at once awarded the victory to the god of the lyre, and all but midas acquiesced in the judgment. he dissented, and questioned the justice of the award. apollo would not suffer such a depraved pair of ears any longer to wear the human form, but caused them to increase in length, grow hairy, within and without, and movable on their roots; in short, to be on the perfect pattern of those of an ass. mortified enough was king midas at this mishap; but he consoled himself with the thought that it was possible to hide his misfortune, which he attempted to do by means of an ample turban or head-dress. but his hair-dresser of course knew the secret. he was charged not to mention it, and threatened with dire punishment if he presumed to disobey. but he found it too much for his discretion to keep such a secret; so he went out into the meadow, dug a hole in the ground, and stooping down, whispered the story, and covered it up. before long a thick bed of reeds sprang up in the meadow, and as soon as it had gained its growth, began whispering the story, and has continued to do so, from that day to this, every time a breeze passes over the place. the story of king midas has been told by others with some variations. dryden, in the "wife of bath's tale," makes midas's queen the betrayer of the secret: "this midas knew, and durst communicate to none but to his wife his ears of state." midas was king of phrygia. he was the son of gordius, a poor countryman, who was taken by the people and made king, in obedience to the command of the oracle, which had said that their future king should come in a wagon. while the people were deliberating, gordius with his wife and son came driving his wagon into the public square. gordius, being made king, dedicated his wagon to the deity of the oracle, and tied it up in its place with a fast knot. this was the celebrated gordian knot, which, in after times it was said, whoever should untie should become lord of all asia. many tried to untie it, but none succeeded, till alexander the great, in his career of conquest, came to phrygia. he tried his skill with as ill success as others, till growing impatient he drew his sword and cut the knot. when he afterwards succeeded in subjecting all asia to his sway, people began to think that he had complied with the terms of the oracle according to its true meaning. baucis and philemon on a certain hill in phrygia stands a linden tree and an oak, enclosed by a low wall. not far from the spot is a marsh, formerly good habitable land, but now indented with pools, the resort of fen-birds and cormorants. once on a time jupiter, in, human shape, visited this country, and with him his son mercury (he of the caduceus), without his wings. they presented themselves, as weary travellers, at many a door, seeking rest and shelter, but found all closed, for it was late, and the inhospitable inhabitants would not rouse themselves to open for their reception. at last a humble mansion received them, a small thatched cottage, where baucis, a pious old dame, and her husband philemon, united when young, had grown old together. not ashamed of their poverty, they made it endurable by moderate desires and kind dispositions. one need not look there for master or for servant; they two were the whole household, master and servant alike. when the two heavenly guests crossed the humble threshold, and bowed their heads to pass under the low door, the old man placed a seat, on which baucis, bustling and attentive, spread a cloth, and begged them to sit down. then she raked out the coals from the ashes, and kindled up a fire, fed it with leaves and dry bark, and with her scanty breath blew it into a flame. she brought out of a corner split sticks and dry branches, broke them up, and placed them under the small kettle. her husband collected some pot-herbs in the garden, and she shred them from the stalks, and prepared them for the pot. he reached down with a forked stick a flitch of bacon hanging in the chimney, cut a small piece, and put it in the pot to boil with the herbs, setting away the rest for another time. a beechen bowl was filled with warm water, that their guests might wash. while all was doing, they beguiled the time with conversation. on the bench designed for the guests was laid a cushion stuffed with sea-weed; and a cloth, only produced on great occasions, but ancient and coarse enough, was spread over that. the old lady, with her apron on, with trembling hand set the table. one leg was shorter than the rest, but a piece of slate put under restored the level. when fixed, she rubbed the table down with some sweetsmelling herbs. upon it she set some of chaste minerva's olives, some cornel berries preserved in vinegar, and added radishes and cheese, with eggs lightly cooked in the ashes. all were served in earthen dishes, and an earthenware pitcher, with wooden cups, stood beside them. when all was ready, the stew, smoking hot, was set on the table. some wine, not of the oldest, was added; and for dessert, apples and wild honey; and over and above all, friendly faces, and simple but hearty welcome. now while the repast proceeded, the old folks were astonished to see that the wine, as fast as it was poured out, renewed itself in the pitcher, of its own accord. struck with terror, baucis and philemon recognized their heavenly guests, fell on their knees, and with clasped hands implored forgiveness for their poor entertainment. there was an old goose, which they kept as the guardian of their humble cottage; and they bethought them to make this a sacrifice in honor of their guests. but the goose, too nimble, with the aid of feet and wings, for the old folks, eluded their pursuit, and at last took shelter between the gods themselves. they forbade it to be slain; and spoke in these words: "we are gods. this inhospitable village shall pay the penalty of its impiety; you alone shall go free from the chastisement. quit your house, and come with us to the top of yonder hill." they hastened to obey, and, staff in hand, labored up the steep ascent. they had reached to within an arrow's flight of the top, when turning their eyes below, they beheld all the country sunk in a lake, only their own house left standing. while they gazed with wonder at the sight, and lamented the fate of their neighbors, that old house of theirs was changed into a temple. columns took the place of the corner posts, the thatch grew yellow and appeared a gilded roof, the floors became marble, the doors were enriched with carving and ornaments of gold. then spoke jupiter in benignant accents: "excellent old man, and woman worthy of such a husband, speak, tell us your wishes; what favor have you to ask of us?" philemon took counsel with baucis a few moments; then declared to the gods their united wish. "we ask to be priests and guardians of this your temple; and since here we have passed our lives in love and concord, we wish that one and the same hour may take us both from life, that i may not live to see her grave, nor be laid in my own by her." their prayer was granted. they were the keepers of the temple as long as they lived. when grown very old, as they stood one day before the steps of the sacred edifice, and were telling the story of the place, baucis saw philemon begin to put forth leaves, and old philemon saw baucis changing in like manner. and now a leafy crown had grown over their heads, while exchanging parting words, as long as they could speak. "farewell, dear spouse," they said, together, and at the same moment the bark closed over their mouths. the tyanean shepherd still shows the two trees, standing side by side, made out of the two good old people. the story of baucis and philemon has been imitated by swift, in a burlesque style, the actors in the change being two wandering saints, and the house being changed into a church, of which philemon is made the parson. the following may serve as a specimen: "they scarce had spoke, when, fair and soft, the roof began to mount aloft; aloft rose every beam and rafter; the heavy wall climbed slowly after. the chimney widened and grew higher, became a steeple with a spire. the kettle to the top was hoist. and there stood fastened to a joist, but with the upside down, to show its inclination for below; in vain, for a superior force, applied at bottom, stops its course; doomed ever in suspense to dwell, 'tis now no kettle, but a bell. a wooden jack, which had almost lost by disuse the art to roast, a sudden alteration feels increased by new intestine wheels; and, what exalts the wonder more. the number made the motion slower; the flier, though't had leaden feet, turned round so quick you scarce could see't; but slackened by some secret power, now hardly moves an inch an hour. the jack and chimney, near allied, had never left each other's side: the chimney to a steeple grown, the jack would not be left alone; but up against the steeple reared, became a clock, and still adhered; and still its love to household cares by a shrill voice at noon declares, warning the cook-maid not to burn that roast meat which it cannot turn; the groaning chair began to crawl, like a huge snail, along the wall; there stuck aloft in public view, and with small change, a pulpit grew. a bedstead of the antique mode, compact of timber many a load, such as our ancestors did use, was metamorphosed into pews, which still their ancient nature keep by lodging folks disposed to sleep." chapter vii proserpine--glaucus and scylla when jupiter and his brothers had defeated the titans and banished them to tartarus, a new enemy rose up against the gods. they were the giants typhon, briareus, enceladus, and others. some of them had a hundred arms, others breathed out fire. they were finally subdued and buried alive under mount aetna, where they still sometimes struggle to get loose, and shake the whole island with earthquakes. their breath comes up through the mountain, and is what men call the eruption of the volcano. the fall of these monsters shook the earth, so that pluto was alarmed, and feared that his kingdom would be laid open to the light of day. under this apprehension, he mounted his chariot, drawn by black horses, and took a circuit of inspection to satisfy himself of the extent of the damage. while he was thus engaged, venus, who was sitting on mount eryx playing with her boy cupid, espied him, and said, "my son, take your darts with which you conquer all, even jove himself, and send one into the breast of yonder dark monarch, who rules the realm of tartarus. why should he alone escape? seize the opportunity to extend your empire and mine. do you not see that even in heaven some despise our power? minerva the wise, and diana the huntress, defy us; and there is that daughter of ceres, who threatens to follow their example. now do you, if you have any regard for your own interest or mine, join these two in one." the boy unbound his quiver, and selected his sharpest and truest arrow; then straining the bow against his knee, he attached the string, and, having made ready, shot the arrow with its barbed point right into the heart of pluto. in the vale of enna there is a lake embowered in woods, which screen it from the fervid rays of the sun, while the moist ground is covered with flowers, and spring reigns perpetual. here proserpine was playing with her companions, gathering lilies and violets, and filling her basket and her apron with them, when pluto saw her, loved her, and carried her off. she screamed for help to her mother and companions; and when in her fright she dropped the corners of her apron and let the flowers fall, childlike she felt the loss of them as an addition to her grief. the ravisher urged on his steeds, calling them each by name, and throwing loose over their heads and necks his iron-colored reins. when he reached the river cyane, and it opposed his passage, he struck the river-bank with his trident, and the earth opened and gave him a passage to tartarus. ceres sought her daughter all the world over. bright-haired aurora, when she came forth in the morning, and hesperus when he led out the stars in the evening, found her still busy in the search. but it was all unavailing. at length, weary and sad, she sat down upon a stone, and continued sitting nine days and nights, in the open air, under the sunlight and moonlight and falling showers. it was where now stands the city of eleusis, then the home of an old man named celeus. he was out in the field, gathering acorns and blackberries, and sticks for his fire. his little girl was driving home their two goats, and as she passed the goddess, who appeared in the guise of an old woman, she said to her, "mother,"--and the name was sweet to the ears of ceres,-"why do you sit here alone upon the rocks?" the old man also stopped, though his load was heavy, and begged her to come into his cottage, such as it was. she declined, and he urged her. "go in peace," she replied, "and be happy in your daughter; i have lost mine." as she spoke, tears--or something like tears, for the gods never weep--fell down her cheeks upon her bosom. the compassionate old man and his child wept with her. then said he, "come with us, and despise not our humble roof; so may your daughter be restored to you in safety." "lead on," said she, "i cannot resist that appeal!" so she rose from the stone and went with them. as they walked he told her that his only son, a little boy, lay very sick, feverish, and sleepless. she stooped and gathered some poppies. as they entered the cottage, they found all in great distress, for the boy seemed past hope of recovery. metanira, his mother, received her kindly, and the goddess stooped and kissed the lips of the sick child. instantly the paleness left his face, and healthy vigor returned to his body. the whole family were delighted--that is, the father, mother, and little girl, for they were all; they had no servants. they spread the table, and put upon it curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb. while they ate, ceres mingled poppy juice in the milk of the boy. when night came and all was still, she arose, and taking the sleeping boy, moulded his limbs with her hands, and uttered over him three times a solemn charm, then went and laid him in the ashes. his mother, who had been watching what her guest was doing, sprang forward with a cry and snatched the child from the fire. then ceres assumed her own form, and a divine splendor shone all around. while they were overcome with astonishment, she said, "mother, you have been cruel in your fondness to your son. i would have made him immortal, but you have frustrated my attempt. nevertheless, he shall be great and useful. he shall teach men the use of the plough, and the rewards which labor can win from the cultivated soil." so saying, she wrapped a cloud about her, and mounting her chariot rode away. ceres continued her search for her daughter, passing from land to land, and across seas and rivers, till at length she returned to sicily, whence she at first set out, and stood by the banks of the river cyane, where pluto made himself a passage with his prize to his own dominions. the river nymph would have told the goddess all she had witnessed, but dared not, for fear of pluto; so she only ventured to take up the girdle which proserpine had dropped in her flight, and waft it to the feet of the mother. ceres, seeing this, was no longer in doubt of her loss, but she did not yet know the cause, and laid the blame on the innocent land. "ungrateful soil," said she, "which i have endowed with fertility and clothed with herbage and nourishing grain, no more shall you enjoy my favors." then the cattle died, the plough broke in the furrow, the seed failed to come up; there was too much sun, there was too much rain; the birds stole the seeds--thistles and brambles were the only growth. seeing this, the fountain arethusa interceded for the land. "goddess," said she, "blame not the land; it opened unwillingly to yield a passage to your daughter. i can tell you of her fate, for i have seen her. this is not my native country; i came hither from elis. i was a woodland nymph, and delighted in the chase. they praised my beauty, but i cared nothing for it, and rather boasted of my hunting exploits. one day i was returning from the wood, heated with exercise, when i came to a stream silently flowing, so clear that you might count the pebbles on the bottom. the willows shaded it, and the grassy bank sloped down to the water's edge. i approached, i touched the water with my foot. i stepped in knee-deep, and not content with that, i laid my garments on the willows and went in. while i sported in the water, i heard an indistinct murmur coming up as out of the depths of the stream: and made haste to escape to the nearest bank. the voice said, 'why do you fly, arethusa? i am alpheus, the god of this stream.' i ran, he pursued; he was not more swift than i, but he was stronger, and gained upon me, as my strength failed. at last, exhausted, i cried for help to diana. 'help me, goddess! help your votary!' the goddess heard, and wrapped me suddenly in a thick cloud. the river god looked now this way and now that, and twice came close to me, but could not find me. 'arethusa! arethusa!' he cried. oh, how i trembled,--like a lamb that hears the wolf growling outside the fold. a cold sweat came over me, my hair flowed down in streams; where my foot stood there was a pool. in short, in less time than it takes to tell it i became a fountain. but in this form alpheus knew me and attempted to mingle his stream with mine. diana cleft the ground, and i, endeavoring to escape him, plunged into the cavern, and through the bowels of the earth came out here in sicily. while i passed through the lower parts of the earth, i saw your proserpine. she was sad, but no longer showing alarm in her countenance. her look was such as became a queen--the queen of erebus; the powerful bride of the monarch of the realms of the dead." when ceres heard this, she stood for a while like one stupefied; then turned her chariot towards heaven, and hastened to present herself before the throne of jove. she told the story of her bereavement, and implored jupiter to interfere to procure the restitution of her daughter. jupiter consented on one condition, namely, that proserpine should not during her stay in the lower world have taken any food; otherwise, the fates forbade her release. accordingly, mercury was sent, accompanied by spring, to demand proserpine of pluto. the wily monarch consented; but, alas! the maiden had taken a pomegranate which pluto offered her, and had sucked the sweet pulp from a few of the seeds. this was enough to prevent her complete release; but a compromise was made, by which she was to pass half the time with her mother, and the rest with her husband pluto. ceres allowed herself to be pacified with this arrangement, and restored the earth to her favor. now she remembered celeus and his family, and her promise to his infant son triptolemus. when the boy grew up, she taught him the use of the plough, and how to sow the seed. she took him in her chariot, drawn by winged dragons, through all the countries of the earth, imparting to mankind valuable grains, and the knowledge of agriculture. after his return, triptolemus built a magnificent temple to ceres in eleusis, and established the worship of the goddess, under the name of the eleusinian mysteries, which, in the splendor and solemnity of their observance, surpassed all other religious celebrations among the greeks. there can be little doubt of this story of ceres and proserpine being an allegory. proserpine signifies the seed-corn which when cast into the ground lies there concealed--that is, she is carried off by the god of the underworld. it reappears--that is, proserpine is restored to her mother. spring leads her back to the light of day. milton alludes to the story of proserpine in "paradise lost," book iv.: ". . . not that fair field of enna where proserpine gathering flowers, herself a fairer flower, by gloomy dis was gathered, which cost ceres all that pain to seek her through the world,- ... might with this paradise of eden strive." hood, in his "ode to melancholy," uses the same allusion very beautifully: "forgive, if somewhile i forget, in woe to come the present bliss; as frighted proserpine let fall her flowers at the sight of dis." the river alpheus does in fact disappear underground, in part of its course, finding its way through subterranean channels till it again appears on the surface. it was said that the sicilian fountain arethusa was the same stream, which, after passing under the sea, came up again in sicily. hence the story ran that a cup thrown into the alpheus appeared again in arethusa. it is this fable of the underground course of alpheus that coleridge alludes to in his poem of "kubla khan": "in xanadu did kubla khan a stately pleasure-dome decree, where alph, the sacred river, ran through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea." in one of moore's juvenile poems he thus alludes to the same story, and to the practice of throwing garlands or other light objects on his stream to be carried downward by it, and afterwards reproduced at its emerging: "o my beloved, how divinely sweet is the pure joy when kindred spirits meet! like him the river god, whose waters flow, with love their only light, through caves below, wafting in triumph all the flowery braids and festal rings, with which olympic maids have decked his current, as an offering meet to lay at arethusa's shining feet. think, when he meets at last his fountain bride, what perfect love must thrill the blended tide! each lost in each, till mingling into one, their lot the same for shadow or for sun, a type of true love, to the deep they run." the following extract from moore's "rhymes on the road" gives an account of a celebrated picture by albano, at milan, called a dance of loves: "'tis for the theft ef enna's flower from earth these urchins celebrate their dance of mirth, round the green tree, like fays upon a heath;- those that are nearest linked in order bright, cheek after cheek, like rosebuds in a wreath; and those more distant showing from beneath the others' wings their little eyes of light. while see! among the clouds, their eldest brother, but just flown up, tells with a smile of bliss, this prank of pluto to his charmed mother, who turns to greet the tidings with a kiss." glaucus and scylla glaucus was a fisherman. one day he had drawn his nets to land, and had taken a great many fishes of various kinds. so he emptied his net, and proceeded to sort the fishes on the grass. the place where he stood was a beautiful island in the river, a solitary spot, uninhabited, and not used for pasturage of cattle, nor ever visited by any but himself. on a sudden, the fishes, which had been laid on the grass, began to revive and move their fins as if they were in the water; and while he looked on astonished, they one and all moved off to the water, plunged in, and swam away. he did not know what to make of this, whether some god had done it or some secret power in the herbage. "what herb has such a power?" he exclaimed; and gathering some of it, he tasted it. scarce had the juices of the plant reached his palate when he found himself agitated with a longing desire for the water. he could no longer restrain himself, but bidding farewell to earth, he plunged into the stream. the gods of the water received him graciously, and admitted him to the honor of their society. they obtained the consent of oceanus and tethys, the sovereigns of the sea, that all that was mortal in him should be washed away. a hundred rivers poured their waters over him. then he lost all sense of his former nature and all consciousness. when he recovered, he found himself changed in form and mind. his hair was sea-green, and trailed behind him on the water; his shoulders grew broad, and what had been thighs and legs assumed the form of a fish's tail. the seagods complimented him on the change of his appearance, and he fancied himself rather a good-looking personage. one day glaucus saw the beautiful maiden scylla, the favorite of the water-nymphs, rambling on the shore, and when she had found a sheltered nook, laving her limbs in the clear water. he fell in love with her, and showing himself on the surface, spoke to her, saying such things as he thought most likely to win her to stay; for she turned to run immediately on the sight of him, and ran till she had gained a cliff overlooking the sea. here she stopped and turned round to see whether it was a god or a sea animal, and observed with wonder his shape and color. glaucus partly emerging from the water, and supporting himself against a rock, said, "maiden, i am no monster, nor a sea animal, but a god; and neither proteus nor triton ranks higher than i. once i was a mortal, and followed the sea for a living; but now i belong wholly to it." then he told the story of his metamorphosis, and how he had been promoted to his present dignity, and added, "but what avails all this if it fails to move your heart?" he was going on in this strain, but scylla turned and hastened away. glaucus was in despair, but it occurred to him to consult the enchantress circe. accordingly he repaired to her island--the same where afterwards ulysses landed, as we shall see in one of our later stories. after mutual salutations, he said, "goddess, i entreat your pity; you alone can relieve the pain i suffer. the power of herbs i know as well as any one, for it is to them i owe my change of form. i love scylla. i am ashamed to tell you how i have sued and promised to her, and how scornfully she has treated me. i beseech you to use your incantations, or potent herbs, if they are more prevailing, not to cure me of my love,--for that i do not wish,--but to make her share it and yield me a like return." to which circe replied, for she was not insensible to the attractions of the sea-green deity, "you had better pursue a willing object; you are worthy to be sought, instead of having to seek in vain. be not diffident, know your own worth. i protest to you that even i, goddess though i be, and learned in the virtues of plants and spells, should not know how to refuse you. if she scorns you scorn her; meet one who is ready to meet you half way, and thus make a due return to both at once." to these words glaucus replied, "sooner shall trees grow at the bottom of the ocean, and sea-weed on the top of the mountains, than i will cease to love scylla, and her alone." the goddess was indignant, but she could not punish him, neither did she wish to do so, for she liked him too well; so she turned all her wrath against her rival, poor scylla. she took plants of poisonous powers and mixed them together, with incantations and charms. then she passed through the crowd of gambolling beasts, the victims of her art, and proceeded to the coast of sicily, where scylla lived. there was a little bay on the shore to which scylla used to resort, in the heat of the day, to breathe the air of the sea, and to bathe in its waters. here the goddess poured her poisonous mixture, and muttered over it incantations of mighty power. scylla came as usual and plunged into the water up to her waist. what was her horror to perceive a brood of serpents and barking monsters surrounding her! at first she could not imagine they were a part of herself, and tried to run from them, and to drive them away; but as she ran she carried them with her, and when she tried to touch her limbs, she found her hands touch only the yawning jaws of monsters. scylla remained rooted to the spot. her temper grew as ugly as her form, and she took pleasure in devouring hapless mariners who came within her grasp. thus she destroyed six of the companions of ulysses, and tried to wreck the ships of aeneas, till at last she was turned into a rock, and as such still continues to be a terror to mariners. keats, in his "endymion," has given a new version of the ending of "glaucus and scylla." glaucus consents to circe's blandishments, till he by chance is witness to her transactions with her beasts. disgusted with her treachery and cruelty, he tries to escape from her, but is taken and brought back, when with reproaches she banishes him, sentencing him to pass a thousand years in decrepitude and pain. he returns to the sea, and there finds the body of scylla, whom the goddess has not transformed but drowned. glaucus learns that his destiny is that, if he passes his thousand years in collecting all the bodies of drowned lovers, a youth beloved of the gods will appear and help him. endymion fulfils this prophecy, and aids in restoring glaucus to youth, and scylla and all the drowned lovers to life. the following is glaucus's account of his feelings after his "seachange": "i plunged for life or death. to interknit one's senses with so dense a breathing stuff might seem a work of pain; so not enough can i admire how crystal-smooth it felt, and buoyant round my limbs. at first i dwelt whole days and days in sheer astonishment; forgetful utterly of self-intent, moving but with the mighty ebb and flow. then like a new-fledged bird that first doth show his spreaded feathers to the morrow chill, i tried in fear the pinions of my will. 'twas freedom! and at once i visited the ceaseless wonders of this ocean-bed," etc. --keats. chapter viii pygmalion--dryope-venus and adonis--apollo and hyacinthus pygmalion saw so much to blame in women that he came at last to abhor the sex, and resolved to live unmarried. he was a sculptor, and had made with wonderful skill a statue of ivory, so beautiful that no living woman came anywhere near it. it was indeed the perfect semblance of a maiden that seemed to be alive, and only prevented from moving by modesty. his art was so perfect that it concealed itself and its product looked like the workmanship of nature. pygmalion admired his own work, and at last fell in love with the counterfeit creation. oftentimes he laid his hand upon it as if to assure himself whether it were living or not, and could not even then believe that it was only ivory. he caressed it, and gave it presents such as young girls love,--bright shells and polished stones, little birds and flowers of various hues, beads and amber. he put raiment on its limbs, and jewels on its fingers, and a necklace about its neck. to the ears he hung earrings and strings of pearls upon the breast. her dress became her, and she looked not less charming than when unattired. he laid her on a couch spread with cloths of tyrian dye, and called her his wife, and put her head upon a pillow of the softest feathers, as if she could enjoy their softness. the festival of venus was at hand--a festival celebrated with great pomp at cyprus. victims were offered, the altars smoked, and the odor of incense filled the air. when pygmalion had performed his part in the solemnities, he stood before the altar and timidly said, "ye gods, who can do all things, give me, i pray you, for my wife"--he dared not say "my ivory virgin," but said instead--"one like my ivory virgin." venus, who was present at the festival, heard him and knew the thought he would have uttered; and as an omen of her favor, caused the flame on the altar to shoot up thrice in a fiery point into the air. when he returned home, he went to see his statue, and leaning over the couch, gave a kiss to the mouth. it seemed to be warm. he pressed its lips again, he laid his hand upon the limbs; the ivory felt soft to his touch and yielded to his fingers like the wax of hymettus. while he stands astonished and glad, though doubting, and fears he may be mistaken, again and again with a lover's ardor he touches the object of his hopes. it was indeed alive! the veins when pressed yielded to the finger and again resumed their roundness. then at last the votary of venus found words to thank the goddess, and pressed his lips upon lips as real as his own. the virgin felt the kisses and blushed, and opening her timid eyes to the light, fixed them at the same moment on her lover. venus blessed the nuptials she had formed, and from this union paphos was born, from whom the city, sacred to venus, received its name. schiller, in his poem the "ideals," applies this tale of pygmalion to the love of nature in a youthful heart. the following translation is furnished by a friend: "as once with prayers in passion flowing, pygmalion embraced the stone, till from the frozen marble glowing, the light of feeling o'er him shone, so did i clasp with young devotion bright nature to a poet's heart; till breath and warmth and vital motion seemed through the statue form to dart. "and then, in all my ardor sharing, the silent form expression found; returned my kiss of youthful daring, and understood my heart's quick sound. then lived for me the bright creation, the silver rill with song was rife; the trees, the roses shared sensation, an echo of my boundless life." --s. g. b. dryope dryope and iole were sisters. the former was the wife of andraemon, beloved by her husband, and happy in the birth of her first child. one day the sisters strolled to the bank of a stream that sloped gradually down to the water's edge, while the upland was overgrown with myrtles. they were intending to gather flowers for forming garlands for the altars of the nymphs, and dryope carried her child at her bosom, precious burden, and nursed him as she walked. near the water grew a lotus plant, full of purple flowers. dryope gathered some and offered them to the baby, and iole was about to do the same, when she perceived blood dropping from the places where her sister had broken them off the stem. the plant was no other than the nymph lotis, who, running from a base pursuer, had been changed into this form. this they learned from the country people when it was too late. dryope, horror-struck when she perceived what she had done, would gladly have hastened from the spot, but found her feet rooted to the ground. she tried to pull them away, but moved nothing but her upper limbs. the woodiness crept upward, and by degrees invested her body. in anguish she attempted to tear her hair, but found her hands filled with leaves. the infant felt his mother's bosom begin to harden, and the milk cease to flow. iole looked on at the sad fate of her sister, and could render no assistance. she embraced the growing trunk, as if she would hold back the advancing wood, and would gladly have been enveloped in the same bark. at this moment andraemon, the husband of dryope, with her father, approached; and when they asked for dryope, iole pointed them to the new-formed lotus. they embraced the trunk of the yet warm tree, and showered their kisses on its leaves. now there was nothing left of dryope but her face. her tears still flowed and fell on her leaves, and while she could she spoke. "i am not guilty. i deserve not this fate. i have injured no one. if i speak falsely, may my foliage perish with drought and my trunk be cut down and burned. take this infant and give it to a nurse. let it often be brought and nursed under my branches, and play in my shade; and when he is old enough to talk, let him be taught to call me mother, and to say with sadness, 'my mother lies hid under this bark.' but bid him be careful of river banks, and beware how he plucks flowers, remembering that every bush he sees may be a goddess in disguise. farewell, dear husband, and sister, and father. if you retain any love for me, let not the axe wound me, nor the flocks bite and tear my branches. since i cannot stoop to you, climb up hither and kiss me; and while my lips continue to feel, lift up my child that i may kiss him. i can speak no more, for already the bark advances up my neck, and will soon shoot over me. you need not close my eyes, the bark will close them without your aid." then the lips ceased to move, and life was extinct; but the branches retained for some time longer the vital heat. keats, in "endymion," alludes to dryope thus: "she took a lute from which there pulsing came a lively prelude, fashioning the way in which her voice should wander. 't was a lay more subtle-cadenced, more forest-wild than dryope's lone lulling of her child;" etc. venus and adonis venus, playing one day with her boy cupid, wounded her bosom with one of his arrows. she pushed him away, but the wound was deeper than she thought. before it healed she beheld adonis, and was captivated with him. she no longer took any interest in her favorite resorts--paphos, and cnidos, and amathos, rich in metals. she absented herself even from heaven, for adonis was dearer to her than heaven. him she followed and bore him company. she who used to love to recline in the shade, with no care but to cultivate her charms, now rambles through the woods and over the hills, dressed like the huntress diana; and calls her dogs, and chases hares and stags, or other game that it is safe to hunt, but keeps clear of the wolves and bears, reeking with the slaughter of the herd. she charged adonis, too, to beware of such dangerous animals. "be brave towards the timid," said she; "courage against the courageous is not safe. beware how you expose yourself to danger and put my happiness to risk. attack not the beasts that nature has armed with weapons. i do not value your glory so high as to consent to purchase it by such exposure. your youth, and the beauty that charms venus, will not touch the hearts of lions and bristly boars. think of their terrible claws and prodigious strength! i hate the whole race of them. do you ask me why?" then she told him the story of atalanta and hippomenes, who were changed into lions for their ingratitude to her. having given him this warning, she mounted her chariot drawn by swans, and drove away through the air. but adonis was too noble to heed such counsels. the dogs had roused a wild boar from his lair, and the youth threw his spear and wounded the animal with a sidelong stroke. the beast drew out the weapon with his jaws, and rushed after adonis, who turned and ran; but the boar overtook him, and buried his tusks in his side, and stretched him dying upon the plain. venus, in her swan-drawn chariot, had not yet reached cyprus, when she heard coming up through mid-air the groans of her beloved, and turned her white-winged coursers back to earth. as she drew near and saw from on high his lifeless body bathed in blood, she alighted and, bending over it, beat her breast and tore her hair. reproaching the fates, she said, "yet theirs shall be but a partial triumph; memorials of my grief shall endure, and the spectacle of your death, my adonis, and of my lamentations shall be annually renewed. your blood shall be changed into a flower; that consolation none can envy me." thus speaking, she sprinkled nectar on the blood; and as they mingled, bubbles rose as in a pool on which raindrops fall, and in an hour's time there sprang up a flower of bloody hue like that of the pomegranate. but it is short-lived. it is said the wind blows the blossoms open, and afterwards blows the petals away; so it is called anemone, or wind flower, from the cause which assists equally in its production and its decay. milton alludes to the story of venus and adonis in his "comus": "beds of hyacinth and roses where young adonis oft reposes, waxing well of his deep wound in slumber soft, and on the ground sadly sits th' assyrian queen;" etc. apollo and hyacinthus apollo was passionately fond of a youth named hyacinthus. he accompanied him in his sports, carried the nets when he went fishing, led the dogs when he went to hunt, followed him in his excursions in the mountains, and neglected for him his lyre and his arrows. one day they played a game of quoits together, and apollo, heaving aloft the discus, with strength mingled with skill, sent it high and far. hyacinthus watched it as it flew, and excited with the sport ran forward to seize it, eager to make his throw, when the quoit bounded from the earth and struck him in the forehead. he fainted and fell. the god, as pale as himself, raised him and tried all his art to stanch the wound and retain the flitting life, but all in vain; the hurt was past the power of medicine. as when one has broken the stem of a lily in the garden it hangs its head and turns its flowers to the earth, so the head of the dying boy, as if too heavy for his neck, fell over on his shoulder. "thou diest, hyacinth," so spoke phoebus, "robbed of thy youth by me. thine is the suffering, mine the crime. would that i could die for thee! but since that may not be, thou shalt live with me in memory and in song. my lyre shall celebrate thee, my song shall tell thy fate, and thou shalt become a flower inscribed with my regrets." while apollo spoke, behold the blood which had flowed on the ground and stained the herbage ceased to be blood; but a flower of hue more beautiful than the tyrian sprang up, resembling the lily, if it were not that this is purple and that silvery white. [footnote: it is evidently not our modern hyacinth that is here described. it is perhaps some species of iris, or perhaps of larkspur or of pansy.] and this was not enough for phoebus; but to confer still greater honor, he marked the petals with his sorrow, and inscribed "ah! ah!" upon them, as we see to this day. the flower bears the name of hyacinthus, and with every returning spring revives the memory of his fate. it was said that zephyrus (the west wind), who was also fond of hyacinthus and jealous of his preference of apollo, blew the quoit out of its course to make it strike hyacinthus. keats alludes to this in his "endymion," where he describes the lookers-on at the game of quoits: "or they might watch the quoit-pitchers, intent on either side, pitying the sad death of hyacinthus, when the cruel breath of zephyr slew him; zephyr penitent, who now ere phoebus mounts the firmament, fondles the flower amid the sobbing rain." an allusion to hyacinthus will also be recognized in milton's "lycidas": "like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe." chapter ix ceyx and halcyone: or, the halcyon birds ceyx was king of thessaly, where he reigned in peace, without violence or wrong. he was son of hesperus, the day-star, and the glow of his beauty reminded one of his father. halcyone, the daughter of aeolus, was his wife, and devotedly attached to him. now ceyx was in deep affliction for the loss of his brother, and direful prodigies following his brother's death made him feel as if the gods were hostile to him. he thought best, therefore, to make a voyage to carlos in ionia, to consult the oracle of apollo. but as soon as he disclosed his intention to his wife halcyone, a shudder ran through her frame, and her face grew deadly pale. "what fault of mine, dearest husband, has turned your affection from me? where is that love of me that used to be uppermost in your thoughts? have you learned to feel easy in the absence of halcyone? would you rather have me away?" she also endeavored to discourage him, by describing the violence of the winds, which she had known familiarly when she lived at home in her father's house,--aeolus being the god of the winds, and having as much as he could do to restrain them. "they rush together," said she, "with such fury that fire flashes from the conflict. but if you must go," she added, "dear husband, let me go with you, otherwise i shall suffer not only the real evils which you must encounter, but those also which my fears suggest." these words weighed heavily on the mind of king ceyx, and it was no less his own wish than hers to take her with him, but he could not bear to expose her to the dangers of the sea. he answered, therefore, consoling her as well as he could, and finished with these words: "i promise, by the rays of my father the day-star, that if fate permits i will return before the moon shall have twice rounded her orb." when he had thus spoken, he ordered the vessel to be drawn out of the shiphouse, and the oars and sails to be put aboard. when halcyone saw these preparations she shuddered, as if with a presentiment of evil. with tears and sobs she said farewell, and then fell senseless to the ground. ceyx would still have lingered, but now the young men grasped their oars and pulled vigorously through the waves, with long and measured strokes. halcyone raised her streaming eyes, and saw her husband standing on the deck, waving his hand to her. she answered his signal till the vessel had receded so far that she could no longer distinguish his form from the rest. when the vessel itself could no more be seen, she strained her eyes to catch the last glimmer of the sail, till that too disappeared. then, retiring to her chamber, she threw herself on her solitary couch. meanwhile they glide out of the harbor, and the breeze plays among the ropes. the seamen draw in their oars, and hoist their sails. when half or less of their course was passed, as night drew on, the sea began to whiten with swelling waves, and the east wind to blow a gale. the master gave the word to take in sail, but the storm forbade obedience, for such is the roar of the winds and waves his orders are unheard. the men, of their own accord, busy themselves to secure the oars, to strengthen the ship, to reef the sail. while they thus do what to each one seems best, the storm increases. the shouting of the men, the rattling of the shrouds, and the dashing of the waves, mingle with the roar of the thunder. the swelling sea seems lifted up to the heavens, to scatter its foam among the clouds; then sinking away to the bottom assumes the color of the shoal--a stygian blackness. the vessel shares all these changes. it seems like a wild beast that rushes on the spears of the hunters. rain falls in torrents, as if the skies were coming down to unite with the sea. when the lightning ceases for a moment, the night seems to add its own darkness to that of the storm; then comes the flash, rending the darkness asunder, and lighting up all with a glare. skill fails, courage sinks, and death seems to come on every wave. the men are stupefied with terror. the thought of parents, and kindred, and pledges left at home, comes over their minds. ceyx thinks of halcyone. no name but hers is on his lips, and while he yearns for her, he yet rejoices in her absence. presently the mast is shattered by a stroke of lightning, the rudder broken, and the triumphant surge curling over looks down upon, the wreck, then falls, and crushes it to fragments. some of the seamen, stunned by the stroke, sink, and rise no more; others cling to fragments of the wreck. ceyx, with the hand that used to grasp the sceptre, holds fast to a plank, calling for help,--alas, in vain,--upon his father and his father-in-law. but oftenest on his lips was the name of halcyone. to her his thoughts cling. he prays that the waves may bear his body to her sight, and that it may receive burial at her hands. at length the waters overwhelm him, and he sinks. the day-star looked dim that night. since it could not leave the heavens, it shrouded its face with clouds. in the meanwhile halcyone, ignorant of all these horrors, counted the days till her husband's promised return. now she gets ready the garments which he shall put on, and now what she shall wear when he arrives. to all the gods she offers frequent incense, but more than all to juno. for her husband, who was no more, she prayed incessantly: that he might be safe; that he might come home; that he might not, in his absence, see any one that he would love better than her. but of all these prayers, the last was the only one destined to be granted. the goddess, at length, could not bear any longer to be pleaded with for one already dead, and to have hands raised to her altars that ought rather to be offering funeral rites. so, calling iris, she said, "iris, my faithful messenger, go to the drowsy dwelling of somnus, and tell him to send a vision to halcyone in the form of ceyx, to make known to her the event." iris puts on her robe of many colors, and tingeing the sky with her bow, seeks the palace of the king of sleep. near the cimmerian country, a mountain cave is the abode of the dull god somnus. here phoebus dares not come, either rising, at midday, or setting. clouds and shadows are exhaled from the ground, and the light glimmers faintly. the bird of dawning, with crested head, never there calls aloud to aurora, nor watchful dog, nor more sagacious goose disturbs the silence. no wild beast, nor cattle, nor branch moved with the wind, nor sound of human conversation, breaks the stillness. silence reigns there; but from the bottom of the rock the river lethe flows, and by its murmur invites to sleep. poppies grow abundantly before the door of the cave, and other herbs, from whose juices night collects slumbers, which she scatters over the darkened earth. there is no gate to the mansion, to creak on its hinges, nor any watchman; but in the midst a couch of black ebony, adorned with black plumes and black curtains. there the god reclines, his limbs relaxed with sleep. around him lie dreams, resembling all various forms, as many as the harvest bears stalks, or the forest leaves, or the seashore sand grains. as soon as the goddess entered and brushed away the dreams that hovered around her, her brightness lit up all the cave. the god, scarce opening his eyes, and ever and anon dropping his beard upon his breast, at last shook himself free from himself, and leaning on his arm, inquired her errand,--for he knew who she was. she answered, "somnus, gentlest of the gods, tranquillizer of minds and soother of care-worn hearts, juno sends you her commands that you despatch a dream to halcyone, in the city of trachine, representing her lost husband and all the events of the wreck." having delivered her message, iris hasted away, for she could not longer endure the stagnant air, and as she felt drowsiness creeping over her, she made her escape, and returned by her bow the way she came. then somnus called one of his numerous sons,-morpheus,--the most expert in counterfeiting forms, and in imitating the walk, the countenance, and mode of speaking, even the clothes and attitudes most characteristic of each. but he only imitates men, leaving it to another to personate birds, beasts, and serpents. him they call icelos; and phantasos is a third, who turns himself into rocks, waters, woods, and other things without life. these wait upon kings and great personages in their sleeping hours, while others move among the common people. somnus chose, from all the brothers, morpheus, to perform the command of iris; then laid his head on his pillow and yielded himself to grateful repose. morpheus flew, making no noise with his wings, and soon came to the haemonian city, where, laying aside his wings, he assumed the form of ceyx. under that form, but pale like a dead man, naked, he stood before the couch of the wretched wife. his beard seemed soaked with water, and water trickled from his drowned locks. leaning over the bed, tears streaming from his eyes, he said, "do you recognize your ceyx, unhappy wife, or has death too much changed my visage? behold me, know me, your husband's shade, instead of himself. your prayers, halcyone, availed me nothing. i am dead. no more deceive yourself with vain hopes of my return. the stormy winds sunk my ship in the aegean sea, waves filled my mouth while it called aloud on you. no uncertain messenger tells you this, no vague rumor brings it to your ears. i come in person, a shipwrecked man, to tell you my fate. arise! give me tears, give me lamentations, let me not go down to tartarus unwept." to these words morpheus added the voice, which seemed to be that of her husband; he seemed to pour forth genuine tears; his hands had the gestures of ceyx. halcyone, weeping, groaned, and stretched out her arms in her sleep, striving to embrace his body, but grasping only the air. "stay!" she cried; "whither do you fly? let us go together." her own voice awakened her. starting up, she gazed eagerly around, to see if he was still present, for the servants, alarmed by her cries, had brought a light. when she found him not, she smote her breast and rent her garments. she cares not to unbind her hair, but tears it wildly. her nurse asks what is the cause of her grief. "halcyone is no more," she answers, "she perished with her ceyx. utter not words of comfort, he is shipwrecked and dead. i have seen him, i have recognized him. i stretched out my hands to seize him and detain him. his shade vanished, but it was the true shade of my husband. not with the accustomed features, not with the beauty that was his, but pale, naked, and with his hair wet with sea-water, he appeared to wretched me. here, in this very spot, the sad vision stood,"--and she looked to find the mark of his footsteps. "this it was, this that my presaging mind foreboded, when i implored him not to leave me, to trust himself to the waves. oh, how i wish, since thou wouldst go, thou hadst taken me with thee! it would have been far better. then i should have had no remnant of life to spend without thee, nor a separate death to die. if i could bear to live and struggle to endure, i should be more cruel to myself than the sea has been to me. but i will not struggle, i will not be separated from thee, unhappy husband. this time, at least, i will keep thee company. in death, if one tomb may not include us, one epitaph shall; if i may not lay my ashes with thine, my name, at least, shall not be separated." her grief forbade more words, and these were broken with tears and sobs. it was now morning. she went to the seashore, and sought the spot where she last saw him, on his departure. "while he lingered here, and cast off his tacklings, he gave me his last kiss." while she reviews every object, and strives to recall every incident, looking out over the sea, she descries an indistinct object floating in the water. at first she was in doubt what it was, but by degrees the waves bore it nearer, and it was plainly the body of a man. though unknowing of whom, yet, as it was of some shipwrecked one, she was deeply moved, and gave it her tears, saying, "alas! unhappy one, and unhappy, if such there be, thy wife!" borne by the waves, it came nearer. as she more and more nearly views it, she trembles more and more. now, now it approaches the shore. now marks that she recognizes appear. it is her husband! stretching out her trembling hands towards it, she exclaims, "o dearest husband, is it thus you return to me?" there was built out from the shore a mole, constructed to break the assaults of the sea, and stem its violent ingress. she leaped upon this barrier and (it was wonderful she could do so) she flew, and striking the air with wings produced on the instant, skimmed along the surface of the water, an unhappy bird. as she flew, her throat poured forth sounds full of grief, and like the voice of one lamenting. when she touched the mute and bloodless body, she enfolded its beloved limbs with her new-formed wings, and tried to give kisses with her horny beak. whether ceyx felt it, or whether it was only the action of the waves, those who looked on doubted, but the body seemed to raise its head. but indeed he did feel it, and by the pitying gods both of them were changed into birds. they mate and have their young ones. for seven placid days, in winter time, halcyone broods over her nest, which floats upon the sea. then the way is safe to seamen. aeolus guards the winds and keeps them from disturbing the deep. the sea is given up, for the time, to his grandchildren. the following lines from byron's "bride of abydos" might seem borrowed from the concluding part of this description, if it were not stated that the author derived the suggestion from observing the motion of a floating corpse: "as shaken on his restless pillow, his head heaves with the heaving billow, that hand, whose motion is not life, yet feebly seems to menace strife, flung by the tossing tide on high, then levelled with the wave ..." milton in his "hymn on the nativity," thus alludes to the fable of the halcyon: "but peaceful was the night wherein the prince of light his reign of peace upon the earth began; the winds with wonder whist smoothly the waters kist whispering new joys to the mild ocean, who now hath quite forgot to rave while birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave." keats, also, in "endymion," says: "o magic sleep! o comfortable bird that broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind till it is hushed and smooth." chapter x vertumnus and pomona the hamadryads were wood-nymphs. pomona was of this class, and no one excelled her in love of the garden and the culture of fruit. she cared not for orests and rivers, but loved the cultivated country, and trees that bear delicious apples. her right hand bore for its weapon not a javelin, but a pruning-knife. armed with this, she busied herself at one time to repress the too luxuriant growths, and curtail the branches that straggled out of place; at another, to split the twig and insert therein a graft, making the branch adopt a nursling not its own. she took care, too, that her favorites should not suffer from drought, and led streams of water by them, that the thirsty roots might drink. this occupation was her pursuit, her passion; and she was free from that which venus inspires. she was not without fear of the country people, and kept her orchard locked, and allowed not men to enter. the fauns and satyrs would have given all they possessed to win her, and so would old sylvanus, who looks young for his years, and pan, who wears a garland of pine leaves around his head. but vertumnus loved her best of all; yet he sped no better than the rest. o how often, in the disguise of a reaper, did he bring her corn in a basket, and looked the very image of a reaper! with a hay band tied round him, one would think he had just come from turning over the grass. sometimes he would have an ox-goad in his hand, and you would have said he had just unyoked his weary oxen. now he bore a pruning-hook, and personated a vine-dresser; and again, with a ladder on his shoulder, he seemed as if he was going to gather apples. sometimes he trudged along as a discharged soldier, and again he bore a fishing-rod, as if going to fish. in this way he gained admission to her again and again, and fed his passion with the sight of her. one day he came in the guise of an old woman, her gray hair surmounted with a cap, and a staff in her hand. she entered the garden and admired the fruit. "it does you credit, my dear," she said, and kissed her, not exactly with an old woman's kiss. she sat down on a bank, and looked up at the branches laden with fruit which hung over her. opposite was an elm entwined with a vine loaded with swelling grapes. she praised the tree and its associated vine, equally. "but," said she, "if the tree stood alone, and had no vine clinging to it, it would have nothing to attract or offer us but its useless leaves. and equally the vine, if it were not twined round the elm, would lie prostrate on the ground. why will you not take a lesson from the tree and the vine, and consent to unite yourself with some one? i wish you would. helen herself had not more numerous suitors, nor penelope, the wife of shrewd ulysses. even while you spurn them, they court you,--rural deities and others of every kind that frequent these mountains. but if you are prudent and want to make a good alliance, and will let an old woman advise you,--who loves you better than you have any idea of,--dismiss all the rest and accept vertumnus, on my recommendation. i know him as well as he knows himself. he is not a wandering deity, but belongs to these mountains. nor is he like too many of the lovers nowadays, who love any one they happen to see; he loves you, and you only. add to this, he is young and handsome, and has the art of assuming any shape he pleases, and can make himself just what you command him. moreover, he loves the same things that you do, delights in gardening, and handles your apples with admiration. but now he cares nothing for fruits nor flowers, nor anything else, but only yourself. take pity on him, and fancy him speaking now with my mouth. remember that the gods punish cruelty, and that venus hates a hard heart, and will visit such offences sooner or later. to prove this, let me tell you a story, which is well known in cyprus to be a fact; and i hope it will have the effect to make you more merciful. "iphis was a young man of humble parentage, who saw and loved anaxarete, a noble lady of the ancient family of teucer. he struggled long with his passion, but when he found he could not subdue it, he came a suppliant to her mansion. first he told his passion to her nurse, and begged her as she loved her foster-child to favor his suit. and then he tried to win her domestics to his side. sometimes he committed his vows to written tablets, and often hung at her door garlands which he had moistened with his tears. he stretched himself on her threshold, and uttered his complaints to the cruel bolts and bars. she was deafer than the surges which rise in the november gale; harder than steel from the german forges, or a rock that still clings to its native cliff. she mocked and laughed at him, adding cruel words to her ungentle treatment, and gave not the slightest gleam of hope. "iphis could not any longer endure the torments of hopeless love, and, standing before her doors, he spake these last words: 'anaxarete, you have conquered, and shall no longer have to bear my importunities. enjoy your triumph! sing songs of joy, and bind your forehead with laurel,--you have conquered! i die; stony heart, rejoice! this at least i can do to gratify you and force you to praise me; and thus shall i prove that the love of you left me but with life. nor will i leave it to rumor to tell you of my death. i will come myself, and you shall see me die, and feast your eyes on the spectacle. yet, o ye gods, who look down on mortal woes, observe my fate! i ask but this: let me be remembered in coming ages, and add those years to my fame which you have reft from my life. thus he said, and, turning his pale face and weeping eyes towards her mansion, he fastened a rope to the gatepost, on which he had often hung garlands, and putting his head into the noose, he murmured, 'this garland at least will please you, cruel girl!' and falling hung suspended with his neck broken. as he fell he struck against the gate, and the sound was as the sound of a groan. the servants opened the door and found him dead, and with exclamations of pity raised him and carried him home to his mother, for his father was not living. she received the dead body of her son, and folded the cold form to her bosom, while she poured forth the sad words which bereaved mothers utter. the mournful funeral passed through the town, and the pale corpse was borne on a bier to the place of the funeral pile. by chance the home of anaxarete was on the street where the procession passed, and the lamentations of the mourners met the ears of her whom the avenging deity had already marked for punishment. "'let us see this sad procession,' said she, and mounted to a turret, whence through an open window she looked upon the funeral. scarce had her eyes rested upon the form of iphis stretched on the bier, when they began to stiffen, and the warm blood in her body to become cold. endeavoring to step back, she found she could not move her feet; trying to turn away her face, she tried in vain; and by degrees all her limbs became stony like her heart. that you may not doubt the fact, the statue still remains, and stands in the temple of venus at salamis, in the exact form of the lady. now think of these things, my dear, and lay aside your scorn and your delays, and accept a lover. so may neither the vernal frosts blight your young fruits, nor furious winds scatter your blossoms!" when vertumnus had spoken thus, he dropped the disguise of an old woman, and stood before her in his proper person, as a comely youth. it appeared to her like the sun bursting through a cloud. he would have renewed his entreaties, but there was no need; his arguments and the sight of his true form prevailed, and the nymph no longer resisted, but owned a mutual flame. pomona was the especial patroness of the apple-orchard, and as such she was invoked by phillips, the author of a poem on cider, in blank verse. thomson in the "seasons" alludes to him: "phillips, pomona's bard, the second thou who nobly durst, in rhyme-unfettered verse, with british freedom, sing the british song." but pomona was also regarded as presiding over other fruits, and as such is invoked by thomson: "bear me, pomona, to thy citron groves, to where the lemon and the piercing lime, with the deep orange, glowing through the green, their lighter glories blend. lay me reclined beneath the spreading tamarind, that shakes, fanned by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit." chapter xi cupid and psyche a certain king and queen had three daughters. the charms of the two elder were more than common, but the beauty of the youngest was so wonderful that the poverty of language is unable to express its due praise. the fame of her beauty was so great that strangers from neighboring countries came in crowds to enjoy the sight, and looked on her with amazement, paying her that homage which is due only to venus herself. in fact venus found her altars deserted, while men turned their devotion to this young virgin. as she passed along, the people sang her praises, and strewed her way with chaplets and flowers. this perversion of homage due only to the immortal powers to the exaltation of a mortal gave great offence to the real venus. shaking her ambrosial locks with indignation, she exclaimed, "am i then to be eclipsed in my honors by a mortal girl? in vain then did that royal shepherd, whose judgment was approved by jove himself, give me the palm of beauty over my illustrious rivals, pallas and juno. but she shall not so quietly usurp my honors. i will give her cause to repent of so unlawful a beauty." thereupon she calls her winged son cupid, mischievous enough in his own nature, and rouses and provokes him yet more by her complaints. she points out psyche to him and says, "my dear son, punish that contumacious beauty; give thy mother a revenge as sweet as her injuries are great; infuse into the bosom of that haughty girl a passion for some low, mean, unworthy being, so that she may reap a mortification as great as her present exultation and triumph." cupid prepared to obey the commands of his mother. there are two fountains in venus's garden, one of sweet waters, the other of bitter. cupid filled two amber vases, one from each fountain, and suspending them from the top of his quiver, hastened to the chamber of psyche, whom he found asleep. he shed a few drops from the bitter fountain over her lips, though the sight of her almost moved him to pity; then touched her side with the point of his arrow. at the touch she awoke, and opened eyes upon cupid (himself invisible), which so startled him that in his confusion he wounded himself with his own arrow. heedless of his wound, his whole thought now was to repair the mischief he had done, and he poured the balmy drops of joy over all her silken ringlets. psyche, henceforth frowned upon by venus, derived no benefit from all her charms. true, all eyes were cast eagerly upon her, and every mouth spoke her praises; but neither king, royal youth, nor plebeian presented himself to demand her in marriage. her two elder sisters of moderate charms had now long been married to two royal princes; but psyche, in her lonely apartment, deplored her solitude, sick of that beauty which, while it procured abundance of flattery, had failed to awaken love. her parents, afraid that they had unwittingly incurred the anger of the gods, consulted the oracle of apollo, and received this answer: "the virgin is destined for the bride of no mortal lover. her future husband awaits her on the top of the mountain. he is a monster whom neither gods nor men can resist." this dreadful decree of the oracle filled all the people with dismay, and her parents abandoned themselves to grief. but psyche said, "why, my dear parents, do you now lament me? you should rather have grieved when the people showered upon me undeserved honors, and with one voice called me a venus. i now perceive that i am a victim to that name. i submit. lead me to that rock to which my unhappy fate has destined me." accordingly, all things being prepared, the royal maid took her place in the procession, which more resembled a funeral than a nuptial pomp, and with her parents, amid the lamentations of the people, ascended the mountain, on the summit of which they left her alone, and with sorrowful hearts returned home. while psyche stood on the ridge of the mountain, panting with fear and with eyes full of tears, the gentle zephyr raised her from the earth and bore her with an easy motion into a flowery dale. by degrees her mind became composed, and she laid herself down on the grassy bank to sleep. when she awoke refreshed with sleep, she looked round and beheld near by a pleasant grove of tall and stately trees. she entered it, and in the midst discovered a fountain, sending forth clear and crystal waters, and fast by, a magnificent palace whose august front impressed the spectator that it was not the work of mortal hands, but the happy retreat of some god. drawn by admiration and wonder, she approached the building and ventured to enter. every object she met filled her with pleasure and amazement. golden pillars supported the vaulted roof, and the walls were enriched with carvings and paintings representing beasts of the chase and rural scenes, adapted to delight the eye of the beholder. proceeding onward, she perceived that besides the apartments of state there were others filled with all manner of treasures, and beautiful and precious productions of nature and art. while her eyes were thus occupied, a voice addressed her, though she saw no one, uttering these words: "sovereign lady, all that you see is yours. we whose voices you hear are your servants and shall obey all your commands with our utmost care and diligence. retire, therefore, to your chamber and repose on your bed of down, and when you see fit repair to the bath. supper awaits you in the adjoining alcove when it pleases you to take your seat there." psyche gave ear to the admonitions of her vocal attendants, and after repose and the refreshment of the bath, seated herself in the alcove, where a table immediately presented itself, without any visible aid from waiters or servants, and covered with the greatest delicacies of food and the most nectareous wines. her ears too were feasted with music from invisible performers; of whom one sang, another played on the lute, and all closed in the wonderful harmony of a full chorus. she had not yet seen her destined husband. he came only in the hours of darkness and fled before the dawn of morning, but his accents were full of love, and inspired a like passion in her. she often begged him to stay and let her behold him, but he would not consent. on the contrary he charged her to make no attempt to see him, for it was his pleasure, for the best of reasons, to keep concealed. "why should you wish to behold me?" he said; "have you any doubt of my love? have you any wish ungratified? if you saw me, perhaps you would fear me, perhaps adore me, but all i ask of you is to love me. i would rather you would love me as an equal than adore me as a god." this reasoning somewhat quieted psyche for a time, and while the novelty lasted she felt quite happy. but at length the thought of her parents, left in ignorance of her fate, and of her sisters, precluded from sharing with her the delights of her situation, preyed on her mind and made her begin to feel her palace as but a splendid prison. when her husband came one night, she told him her distress, and at last drew from him an unwilling consent that her sisters should be brought to see her. so, calling zephyr, she acquainted him with her husband's commands, and he, promptly obedient, soon brought them across the mountain down to their sister's valley. they embraced her and she returned their caresses. "come," said psyche, "enter with me my house and refresh yourselves with whatever your sister has to offer." then taking their hands she led them into her golden palace, and committed them to the care of her numerous train of attendant voices, to refresh them in her baths and at her table, and to show them all her treasures. the view of these celestial delights caused envy to enter their bosoms, at seeing their young sister possessed of such state and splendor, so much exceeding their own. they asked her numberless questions, among others what sort of a person her husband was. psyche replied that he was a beautiful youth, who generally spent the daytime in hunting upon the mountains. the sisters, not satisfied with this reply, soon made her confess that she had never seen him. then they proceeded to fill her bosom with dark suspicions. "call to mind," they said, "the pythian oracle that declared you destined to marry a direful and tremendous monster. the inhabitants of this valley say that your husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, who nourishes you for a while with dainties that he may by and by devour you. take our advice. provide yourself with a lamp and a sharp knife; put them in concealment that your husband may not discover them, and when he is sound asleep, slip out of bed, bring forth your lamp, and see for yourself whether what they say is true or not. if it is, hesitate not to cut off the monster's head, and thereby recover your liberty." psyche resisted these persuasions as well as she could, but they did not fail to have their effect on her mind, and when her sisters were gone, their words and her own curiosity were too strong for her to resist. so she prepared her lamp and a sharp knife, and hid them out of sight of her husband. when he had fallen into his first sleep, she silently rose and uncovering her lamp beheld not a hideous monster, but the most beautiful and charming of the gods, with his golden ringlets wandering over his snowy neck and crimson cheek, with two dewy wings on his shoulders, whiter than snow, and with shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring. as she leaned the lamp over to have a nearer view of his face a drop of burning oil fell on the shoulder of the god, startled with which he opened his eyes and fixed them full upon her; then, without saying one word, he spread his white wings and flew out of the window. psyche, in vain endeavoring to follow him, fell from the window to the ground. cupid, beholding her as she lay in the dust, stopped his flight for an instant and said, "o foolish psyche, is it thus you repay my love? after having disobeyed my mother's commands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and cut off my head? but go; return to your sisters, whose advice you seem to think preferable to mine. i inflict no other punishment on you than to leave you forever. love cannot dwell with suspicion." so saying, he fled away, leaving poor psyche prostrate on the ground, filling the place with mournful lamentations. when she had recovered some degree of composure she looked around her, but the palace and gardens had vanished, and she found herself in the open field not far from the city where her sisters dwelt. she repaired thither and told them the whole story of her misfortunes, at which, pretending to grieve, those spiteful creatures inwardly rejoiced. "for now," said they, "he will perhaps choose one of us." with this idea, without saying a word of her intentions, each of them rose early the next morning and ascended the mountains, and having reached the top, called upon zephyr to receive her and bear her to his lord; then leaping up, and not being sustained by zephyr, fell down the precipice and was dashed to pieces. psyche meanwhile wandered day and night, without food or repose, in search of her husband. casting her eyes on a lofty mountain having on its brow a magnificent temple, she sighed and said to herself, "perhaps my love, my lord, inhabits there," and directed her steps thither. she had no sooner entered than she saw heaps of corn, some in loose ears and some in sheaves, with mingled ears of barley. scattered about, lay sickles and rakes, and all the instruments of harvest, without order, as if thrown carelessly out of the weary reapers' hands in the sultry hours of the day. this unseemly confusion the pious psyche put an end to, by separating and sorting everything to its proper place and kind, believing that she ought to neglect none of the gods, but endeavor by her piety to engage them all in her behalf. the holy ceres, whose temple it was, finding her so religiously employed, thus spoke to her: "o psyche, truly worthy of our pity, though i cannot shield you from the frowns of venus, yet i can teach you how best to allay her displeasure. go, then, and voluntarily surrender yourself to your lady and sovereign, and try by modesty and submission to win her forgiveness, and perhaps her favor will restore you the husband you have lost." psyche obeyed the commands of ceres and took her way to the temple of venus, endeavoring to fortify her mind and ruminating on what she should say and how best propitiate the angry goddess, feeling that the issue was doubtful and perhaps fatal. venus received her with angry countenance. "most undutiful and faithless of servants," said she, "do you at last remember that you really have a mistress? or have you rather come to see your sick husband, yet laid up of the wound given him by his loving wife? you are so ill-favored and disagreeable that the only way you can merit your lover must be by dint of industry and diligence. i will make trial of your housewifery." then she ordered psyche to be led to the storehouse of her temple, where was laid up a great quantity of wheat, barley, millet, vetches, beans, and lentils prepared for food for her pigeons, and said, "take and separate all these grains, putting all of the same kind in a parcel by themselves, and see that you get it done before evening." then venus departed and left her to her task. but psyche, in a perfect consternation at the enormous work, sat stupid and silent, without moving a finger to the inextricable heap. while she sat despairing, cupid stirred up the little ant, a native of the fields, to take compassion on her. the leader of the ant hill, followed by whole hosts of his six-legged subjects, approached the heap, and with the utmost diligence, taking grain by grain, they separated the pile, sorting each kind to its parcel; and when it was all done, they vanished out of sight in a moment. venus at the approach of twilight returned from the banquet of the gods, breathing odors and crowned with roses. seeing the task done, she exclaimed, "this is no work of yours, wicked one, but his, whom to your own and his misfortune you have enticed." so saying, she threw her a piece of black bread for her supper and went away. next morning venus ordered psyche to be called and said to her, "behold yonder grove which stretches along the margin of the water. there you will find sheep feeding without a shepherd, with golden-shining fleeces on their backs. go, fetch me a sample of that precious wool gathered from every one of their fleeces." psyche obediently went to the riverside, prepared to do her best to execute the command. but the river god inspired the reeds with harmonious murmurs, which seemed to say, "o maiden, severely tried, tempt not the dangerous flood, nor venture among the formidable rams on the other side, for as long as they are under the influence of the rising sun, they burn with a cruel rage to destroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude teeth. but when the noontide sun has driven the cattle to the shade, and the serene spirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then cross in safety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes and the trunks of the trees." thus the compassionate river god gave psyche instructions how to accomplish her task, and by observing his directions she soon returned to venus with her arms full of the golden fleece; but she received not the approbation of her implacable mistress, who said, "i know very well it is by none of your own doings that you have succeeded in this task, and i am not satisfied yet that you have any capacity to make yourself useful. but i have another task for you. here, take this box and go your way to the infernal shades, and give this box to proserpine and say, 'my mistress venus desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending her sick son she has lost some of her own.' be not too long on your errand, for i must paint myself with it to appear at the circle of the gods and goddesses this evening." psyche was now satisfied that her destruction was at hand, being obliged to go with her own feet directly down to erebus. wherefore, to make no delay of what was not to be avoided, she goes to the top of a high tower to precipitate herself headlong, thus to descend the shortest way to the shades below. but a voice from the tower said to her, "why, poor unlucky girl, dost thou design to put an end to thy days in so dreadful a manner? and what cowardice makes thee sink under this last danger who hast been so miraculously supported in all thy former?" then the voice told her how by a certain cave she might reach the realms of pluto, and how to avoid all the dangers of the road, to pass by cerberus, the three-headed dog, and prevail on charon, the ferryman, to take her across the black river and bring her back again. but the voice added, "when proserpine has given you the box filled with her beauty, of all things this is chiefly to be observed by you, that you never once open or look into the box nor allow your curiosity to pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses." psyche, encouraged by this advice, obeyed it in all things, and taking heed to her ways travelled safely to the kingdom of pluto. she was admitted to the palace of proserpine, and without accepting the delicate seat or delicious banquet that was offered her, but contented with coarse bread for her food, she delivered her message from venus. presently the box was returned to her, shut and filled with the precious commodity. then she returned the way she came, and glad was she to come out once more into the light of day. but having got so far successfully through her dangerous task, a longing desire seized her to examine the contents of the box. "what," said she, "shall i, the carrier of this divine beauty, not take the least bit to put on my cheeks to appear to more advantage in the eyes of my beloved husband!" so she carefully opened the box, but found nothing there of any beauty at all, but an infernal and truly stygian sleep, which being thus set free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell down in the midst of the road, a sleepy corpse without sense or motion. but cupid, being now recovered from his wound, and not able longer to bear the absence of his beloved psyche, slipping through the smallest crack of the window of his chamber which happened to be left open, flew to the spot where psyche lay, and gathering up the sleep from her body closed it again in the box, and waked psyche with a light touch of one of his arrows. "again," said he, "hast thou almost perished by the same curiosity. but now perform exactly the task imposed on you by my mother, and i will take care of the rest." then cupid, as swift as lightning penetrating the heights of heaven, presented himself before jupiter with his supplication. jupiter lent a favoring ear, and pleaded the cause of the lovers so earnestly with venus that he won her consent. on this he sent mercury to bring psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, handing her a cup of ambrosia, he said, "drink this, psyche, and be immortal; nor shall cupid ever break away from the knot in which he is tied, but these nuptials shall be perpetual." thus psyche became at last united to cupid, and in due time they had a daughter born to them whose name was pleasure. the fable of cupid and psyche is usually considered allegorical. the greek name for a butterfly is psyche, and the same word means the soul. there is no illustration of the immortality of the soul so striking and beautiful as the butterfly, bursting on brilliant wings from the tomb in which it has lain, after a dull, grovelling, caterpillar existence, to flutter in the blaze of day and feed on the most fragrant and delicate productions of the spring. psyche, then, is the human soul, which is purified by sufferings and misfortunes, and is thus prepared for the enjoyment of true and pure happiness. in works of art psyche is represented as a maiden with the wings of a butterfly, along with cupid, in the different situations described in the allegory. milton alludes to the story of cupid and psyche in the conclusion of his "comus": "celestial cupid, her famed son, advanced, holds his dear psyche sweet entranced, after her wandering labors long, till free consent the gods among make her his eternal bride; and from her fair unspotted side two blissful twins are to be born, youth and joy; so jove hath sworn." the allegory of the story of cupid and psyche is well presented in the beautiful lines of t. k. harvey: "they wove bright fables in the days of old, when reason borrowed fancy's painted wings; when truth's clear river flowed o'er sands of gold, and told in song its high and mystic things! and such the sweet and solemn tale of her the pilgrim heart, to whom a dream was given, that led her through the world,--love's worshipper,- to seek on earth for him whose home was heaven! "in the full city,--by the haunted fount,- through the dim grotto's tracery of spars,- 'mid the pine temples, on the moonlit mount, where silence sits to listen to the stars; in the deep glade where dwells the brooding dove, the painted valley, and the scented air, she heard far echoes of the voice of love, and found his footsteps' traces everywhere. "but nevermore they met since doubts and fears, those phantom shapes that haunt and blight the earth, had come 'twixt her, a child of sin and tears, and that bright spirit of immortal birth; until her pining soul and weeping eyes had learned to seek him only in the skies; till wings unto the weary heart were given, and she became love's angel bride in heaven!" the story of cupid and psyche first appears in the works of apuleius, a writer of the second century of our era. it is therefore of much more recent date than most of the legends of the age of fable. it is this that keats alludes to in his "ode to psyche": "o latest born and loveliest vision far of all olympus' faded hierarchy! fairer than phoebe's sapphire-regioned star or vesper, amorous glow-worm of the sky; fairer than these, though temple thou hast none, nor altar heaped with flowers; nor virgin choir to make delicious moan upon the midnight hours; no voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet, from chain-swung censor teeming; no shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming." in moore's "summer fete" a fancy ball is described, in which one of the characters personated is psyche- "... not in dark disguise to-night hath our young heroine veiled her light;- for see, she walks the earth, love's own. his wedded bride, by holiest vow pledged in olympus, and made known to mortals by the type which now hangs glittering on her snowy brow. that butterfly, mysterious trinket, which means the soul, (though few would think it,) and sparkling thus on brow so white tells us we've psyche here to-night." chapter xii cadmus--the myrmidons jupiter, under the disguise of a bull, had carried away europa, the daughter of agenor, king of phoenicia. agenor commanded his son cadmus to go in search of his sister, and not to return without her. cadmus went and sought long and far for his sister, but could not find her, and not daring to return unsuccessful, consulted the oracle of apollo to know what country he should settle in. the oracle informed him that he should find a cow in the field, and should follow her wherever she might wander, and where she stopped, should build a city and call it thebes. cadmus had hardly left the castalian cave, from which the oracle was delivered, when he saw a young cow slowly walking before him. he followed her close, offering at the same time his prayers to phoebus. the cow went on till she passed the shallow channel of cephisus and came out into the plain of panope. there she stood still, and raising her broad forehead to the sky, filled the air with her lowings. cadmus gave thanks, and stooping down kissed the foreign soil, then lifting his eyes, greeted the surrounding mountains. wishing to offer a sacrifice to jupiter, he sent his servants to seek pure water for a libation. near by there stood an ancient grove which had never been profaned by the axe, in the midst of which was a cave, thick covered with the growth of bushes, its roof forming a low arch, from beneath which burst forth a fountain of purest water. in the cave lurked a horrid serpent with a crested head and scales glittering like gold. his eyes shone like fire, his body was swollen with venom, he vibrated a triple tongue, and showed a triple row of teeth. no sooner had the tyrians dipped their pitchers in the fountain, and the ingushing waters made a sound, than the glittering serpent raised his head out of the cave and uttered a fearful hiss. the vessels fell from their hands, the blood left their cheeks, they trembled in every limb. the serpent, twisting his scaly body in a huge coil, raised his head so as to overtop the tallest trees, and while the tyrians from terror could neither fight nor fly, slew some with his fangs, others in his folds, and others with his poisonous breath. cadmus, having waited for the return of his men till midday, went in search of them. his covering was a lion's hide, and besides his javelin he carried in his hand a lance, and in his breast a bold heart, a surer reliance than either. when he entered the wood, and saw the lifeless bodies of his men, and the monster with his bloody jaws, he exclaimed, "o faithful friends, i will avenge you, or share your death." so saying he lifted a huge stone and threw it with all his force at the serpent. such a block would have shaken the wall of a fortress, but it made no impression on the monster. cadmus next threw his javelin, which met with better success, for it penetrated the serpent's scales, and pierced through to his entrails. fierce with pain, the monster turned back his head to view the wound, and attempted to draw out the weapon with his mouth, but broke it off, leaving the iron point rankling in his flesh. his neck swelled with rage, bloody foam covered his jaws, and the breath of his nostrils poisoned the air around. now he twisted himself into a circle, then stretched himself out on the ground like the trunk of a fallen tree. as he moved onward, cadmus retreated before him, holding his spear opposite to the monster's opened jaws. the serpent snapped at the weapon and attempted to bite its iron point. at last cadmus, watching his chance, thrust the spear at a moment when the animal's head thrown back came against the trunk of a tree, and so succeeded in pinning him to its side. his weight bent the tree as he struggled in the agonies of death. while cadmus stood over his conquered foe, contemplating its vast size, a voice was heard (from whence he knew not, but he heard it distinctly) commanding him to take the dragon's teeth and sow them in the earth. he obeyed. he made a furrow in the ground, and planted the teeth, destined to produce a crop of men. scarce had he done so when the clods began to move, and the points of spears to appear above the surface. next helmets with their nodding plumes came up, and next the shoulders and breasts and limbs of men with weapons, and in time a harvest of armed warriors. cadmus, alarmed, prepared to encounter a new enemy, but one of them said to him, "meddle not with our civil war." with that he who had spoken smote one of his earth-born brothers with a sword, and he himself fell pierced with an arrow from another. the latter fell victim to a fourth, and in like manner the whole crowd dealt with each other till all fell, slain with mutual wounds, except five survivors. one of these cast away his weapons and said, "brothers, let us live in peace!" these five joined with cadmus in building his city, to which they gave the name of thebes. cadmus obtained in marriage harmonia, the daughter of venus. the gods left olympus to honor the occasion with their presence, and vulcan presented the bride with a necklace of surpassing brilliancy, his own workmanship. but a fatality hung over the family of cadmus in consequence of his killing the serpent sacred to mars. semele and ino, his daughters, and actaeon and pentheus, his grandchildren, all perished unhappily, and cadmus and harmonia quitted thebes, now grown odious to them, and emigrated to the country of the enchelians, who received them with honor and made cadmus their king. but the misfortunes of their children still weighed upon their minds; and one day cadmus exclaimed, "if a serpent's life is so dear to the gods, i would i were myself a serpent." no sooner had he uttered the words than he began to change his form. harmonia beheld it and prayed to the gods to let her share his fate. both became serpents. they live in the woods, but mindful of their origin, they neither avoid the presence of man nor do they ever injure any one. there is a tradition that cadmus introduced into greece the letters of the alphabet which were invented by the phoenicians. this is alluded to by byron, where, addressing the modern greeks, he says: "you have the letters cadmus gave, think you he meant them for a slave?" milton, describing the serpent which tempted eve, is reminded of the serpents of the classical stories and says: ... "--pleasing was his shape, and lovely never since of serpent kind lovelier; not those that in illyria changed hermione and cadmus, nor the god in epidaurus" for an explanation of the last allusion, see oracle of aesculapius, p. 298. the myrmidons the myrmidons were the soldiers of achilles, in the trojan war. from them all zealous and unscrupulous followers of a political chief are called by that name, down to this day. but the origin of the myrmidons would not give one the idea of a fierce and bloody race, but rather of a laborious and peaceful one. cephalus, king of athens, arrived in the island of aegina to seek assistance of his old friend and ally aeacus, the king, in his war with minos, king of crete. cephalus was most kindly received, and the desired assistance readily promised. "i have people enough," said aeacus, "to protect myself and spare you such a force as you need." "i rejoice to see it," replied cephalus, "and my wonder has been raised, i confess, to find such a host of youths as i see around me, all apparently of about the same age. yet there are many individuals whom i previously knew, that i look for now in vain. what has become of them?" aeacus groaned, and replied with a voice of sadness, "i have been intending to tell you, and will now do so, without more delay, that you may see how from the saddest beginning a happy result sometimes flows. those whom you formerly knew are now dust and ashes! a plague sent by angry juno devastated the land. she hated it because it bore the name of one of her husband's female favorites. while the disease appeared to spring from natural causes we resisted it, as we best might, by natural remedies; but it soon appeared that the pestilence was too powerful for our efforts, and we yielded. at the beginning the sky seemed to settle down upon the earth, and thick clouds shut in the heated air. for four months together a deadly south wind prevailed. the disorder affected the wells and springs; thousands of snakes crept over the land and shed their poison in the fountains. the force of the disease was first spent on the lower animals--dogs, cattle, sheep, and birds the luckless ploughman wondered to see his oxen fall in the midst of their work, and lie helpless in the unfinished furrow. the wool fell from the bleating sheep, and their bodies pined away. the horse, once foremost in the race, contested the palm no more, but groaned at his stall and died an inglorious death. the wild boar forgot his rage, the stag his swiftness, the bears no longer attacked the herds. everything languished; dead bodies lay in the roads, the fields, and the woods; the air was poisoned by them, i tell you what is hardly credible, but neither dogs nor birds would touch them, nor starving wolves. their decay spread the infection. next the disease attacked the country people, and then the dwellers in the city. at first the cheek was flushed, and the breath drawn with difficulty. the tongue grew rough and swelled, and the dry mouth stood open with its veins enlarged and gasped for the air. men could not bear the heat of their clothes or their beds, but preferred to lie on the bare ground; and the ground did not cool them, but, on the contrary, they heated the spot where they lay. nor could the physicians help, for the disease attacked them also, and the contact of the sick gave them infection, so that the most faithful were the first victims. at last all hope of relief vanished, and men learned to look upon death as the only deliverer from disease. then they gave way to every inclination, and cared not to ask what was expedient, for nothing was expedient. all restraint laid aside, they crowded around the wells and fountains and drank till they died, without quenching thirst. many had not strength to get away from the water, but died in the midst of the stream, and others would drink of it notwithstanding. such was their weariness of their sick beds that some would creep forth, and if not strong enough to stand, would die on the ground. they seemed to hate their friends, and got away from their homes, as if, not knowing the cause of their sickness, they charged it on the place of their abode. some were seen tottering along the road, as long as they could stand, while others sank on the earth, and turned their dying eyes around to take a last look, then closed them in death. "what heart had i left me, during all this, or what ought i to have had, except to hate life and wish to be with my dead subjects? on all sides lay my people strewn like over-ripened apples beneath the tree, or acorns under the storm-shaken oak. you see yonder a temple on the height. it is sacred to jupiter. o how many offered prayers there, husbands for wives, fathers for sons, and died in the very act of supplication! how often, while the priest made ready for sacrifice, the victim fell, struck down by disease without waiting for the blow! at length all reverence for sacred things was lost. bodies were thrown out unburied, wood was wanting for funeral piles, men fought with one another for the possession of them. finally there were none left to mourn; sons and husbands, old men and youths, perished alike unlamented. "standing before the altar i raised my eyes to heaven. 'o jupiter,' i said, 'if thou art indeed my father, and art not ashamed of thy offspring, give me back my people, or take me also away!' at these words a clap of thunder was heard. 'i accept the omen,' i cried; 'o may it be a sign of a favorable disposition towards me!' by chance there grew by the place where i stood an oak with wide-spreading branches, sacred to jupiter. i observed a troop of ants busy with their labor, carrying minute grains in their mouths and following one another in a line up the trunk of the tree. observing their numbers with admiration, i said, 'give me, o father, citizens as numerous as these, and replenish my empty city.' the tree shook and gave a rustling sound with its branches, though no wind agitated them. i trembled in every limb, yet i kissed the earth and the tree. i would not confess to myself that i hoped, yet i did hope. night came on and sleep took possession of my frame oppressed with cares. the tree stood before me in my dreams, with its numerous branches all covered with living, moving creatures. it seemed to shake its limbs and throw down over the ground a multitude of those industrious graingathering animals, which appeared to gain in size, and grow larger and larger, and by and by to stand erect, lay aside their superfluous legs and their black color, and finally to assume the human form. then i awoke, and my first impulse was to chide the gods who had robbed me of a sweet vision and given me no reality in its place. being still in the temple, my attention was caught by the sound of many voices without; a sound of late unusual to my ears. while i began to think i was yet dreaming, telamon, my son, throwing open the temple gates, exclaimed: 'father, approach, and behold things surpassing even your hopes!' i went forth; i saw a multitude of men, such as i had seen in my dream, and they were passing in procession in the same manner. while i gazed with wonder and delight they approached and kneeling hailed me as their king. i paid my vows to jove, and proceeded to allot the vacant city to the new-born race, and to parcel out the fields among them i called them myrmidons, from the ant (myrmex) from which they sprang. you have seen these persons; their dispositions resemble those which they had in their former shape. they are a diligent and industrious race, eager to gain, and tenacious of their gains. among them you may recruit your forces. they will follow you to the war, young in years and bold in heart." this description of the plague is copied by ovid from the account which thucydides, the greek historian, gives of the plague of athens. the historian drew from life, and all the poets and writers of fiction since his day, when they have had occasion to describe a similar scene, have borrowed their details from him. chapter xiii nisus and scylla--echo and narcissus--clytie--hero and leander nisus and scylla minos, king of crete, made war upon megara. nisus was king of megara, and scylla was his daughter. the siege had now lasted six months and the city still held out, for it was decreed by fate that it should not be taken so long as a certain purple lock, which glittered among the hair of king nisus, remained on his head. there was a tower on the city walls, which overlooked the plain where minos and his army were encamped. to this tower scylla used to repair, and look abroad over the tents of the hostile army. the siege had lasted so long that she had learned to distinguish the persons of the leaders. minos, in particular, excited her admiration. arrayed in his helmet, and bearing his shield, she admired his graceful deportment; if he threw his javelin skill seemed combined with force in the discharge; if he drew his bow apollo himself could not have done it more gracefully. but when he laid aside his helmet, and in his purple robes bestrode his white horse with its gay caparisons, and reined in its foaming mouth, the daughter of nisus was hardly mistress of herself; she was almost frantic with admiration. she envied the weapon that he grasped, the reins that he held. she felt as if she could, if it were possible, go to him through the hostile ranks; she felt an impulse to cast herself down from the tower into the midst of his camp, or to open the gates to him, or to do anything else, so only it might gratify minos. as she sat in the tower, she talked thus with herself: "i know not whether to rejoice or grieve at this sad war. i grieve that minos is our enemy; but i rejoice at any cause that brings him to my sight. perhaps he would be willing to grant us peace, and receive me as a hostage. i would fly down, if i could, and alight in his camp, and tell him that we yield ourselves to his mercy. but then, to betray my father! no! rather would i never see minos again. and yet no doubt it is sometimes the best thing for a city to be conquered, when the conqueror is clement and generous. minos certainly has right on his side. i think we shall be conquered; and if that must be the end of it, why should not love unbar the gates to him, instead of leaving it to be done by war? better spare delay and slaughter if we can. and o if any one should wound or kill minos! no one surely would have the heart to do it; yet ignorantly, not knowing him, one might. i will, i will surrender myself to him, with my country as a dowry, and so put an end to the war. but how? the gates are guarded, and my father keeps the keys; he only stands in my way. o that it might please the gods to take him away! but why ask the gods to do it? another woman, loving as i do, would remove with her own hands whatever stood in the way of her love. and can any other woman dare more than i? i would encounter fire and sword to gain my object; but here there is no need of fire and sword. i only need my father's purple lock. more precious than gold to me, that will give me all i wish." while she thus reasoned night came on, and soon the whole palace was buried in sleep. she entered her father's bedchamber and cut off the fatal lock; then passed out of the city and entered the enemy's camp. she demanded to be led to the king, and thus addressed him: "i am scylla, the daughter of nisus. i surrender to you my country and my father's house. i ask no reward but yourself; for love of you i have done it. see here the purple lock! with this i give you my father and his kingdom." she held out her hand with the fatal spoil. minos shrunk back and refused to touch it. "the gods destroy thee, infamous woman," he exclaimed; "disgrace of our time! may neither earth nor sea yield thee a resting-place! surely, my crete, where jove himself was cradled, shall not be polluted with such a monster!" thus he said, and gave orders that equitable terms should be allowed to the conquered city, and that the fleet should immediately sail from the island. scylla was frantic. "ungrateful man," she exclaimed, "is it thus you leave me?--me who have given you victory,--who have sacrificed for you parent and country! i am guilty, i confess, and deserve to die, but not by your hand." as the ships left the shore, she leaped into the water, and seizing the rudder of the one which carried minos, she was borne along an unwelcome companion of their course. a sea-eagle ing aloft,--it was her father who had been changed into that form,--seeing her, pounced down upon her, and struck her with his beak and claws. in terror she let go the ship and would have fallen into the water, but some pitying deity changed her into a bird. the sea-eagle still cherishes the old animosity; and whenever he espies her in his lofty flight you may see him dart down upon her, with beak and claws, to take vengeance for the ancient crime. echo and narcissus echo was a beautiful nymph, fond of the woods and hills, where she devoted herself to woodland sports. she was a favorite of diana, and attended her in the chase. but echo had one failing; she was fond of talking, and whether in chat or argument, would have the last word. one day juno was seeking her husband, who, she had reason to fear, was amusing himself among the nymphs. echo by her talk contrived to detain the goddess till the nymphs made their escape. when juno discovered it, she passed sentence upon echo in these words: "you shall forfeit the use of that tongue with which you have cheated me, except for that one purpose you are so fond of--reply. you shall still have the last word, but no power to speak first." this nymph saw narcissus, a beautiful youth, as he pursued the chase upon the mountains. she loved him, and followed his footsteps. o how she longed to address him in the softest accents, and win him to converse! but it was not in her power. she waited with impatience for him to speak first, and had her answer ready. one day the youth, being separated from his companions, shouted aloud, "who's here?" echo replied, "here." narcissus looked around, but seeing no one called out, "come." echo answered, "come." as no one came, narcissus called again, "why do you shun me?" echo asked the same question. "let us join one another," said the youth. the maid answered with all her heart in the same words, and hastened to the spot, ready to throw her arms about his neck. he started back, exclaiming, "hands off! i would rather die than you should have me!" "have me," said she; but it was all in vain. he left her, and she went to hide her blushes in the recesses of the woods. from that time forth she lived in caves and among mountain cliffs. her form faded with grief, till at last all her flesh shrank away. her bones were changed into rocks and there was nothing left of her but her voice. with that she is still ready to reply to any one who calls her, and keeps up her old habit of having the last word. narcissus's cruelty in this case was not the only instance. he shunned all the rest of the nymphs, as he had done poor echo. one day a maiden who had in vain endeavored to attract him uttered a prayer that he might some time or other feel what it was to love and meet no return of affection. the avenging goddess heard and granted the prayer. there was a clear fountain, with water like silver, to which the shepherds never drove their flocks, nor the mountain goats resorted, nor any of the beasts of the forest; neither was it defaced with fallen leaves or branches; but the grass grew fresh around it, and the rocks sheltered it from the sun. hither came one day the youth, fatigued with hunting, heated and thirsty. he stooped down to drink, and saw his own image in the water; he thought it was some beautiful water-spirit living in the fountain. he stood gazing with admiration at those bright eyes, those locks curled like the locks of bacchus or apollo, the rounded cheeks, the ivory neck, the parted lips, and the glow of health and exercise over all. he fell in love with himself. he brought his lips near to take a kiss; he plunged his arms in to embrace the beloved object. it fled at the touch, but returned again after a moment and renewed the fascination. he could not tear himself away; he lost all thought of food or rest, while he hovered over the brink of the fountain gazing upon his own image. he talked with the supposed spirit: "why, beautiful being, do you shun me? surely my face is not one to repel you. the nymphs love me, and you yourself look not indifferent upon me. when i stretch forth my arms you do the same; and you smile upon me and answer my beckonings with the like." his tears fell into the water and disturbed the image. as he saw it depart, he exclaimed, "stay, i entreat you! let me at least gaze upon you, if i may not touch you." with this, and much more of the same kind, he cherished the flame that consumed him, so that by degrees he lost his color, his vigor, and the beauty which formerly had so charmed the nymph echo. she kept near him, however, and when he exclaimed, "alas! alas!" she answered him with the same words. he pined away and died; and when his shade passed the stygian river, it leaned over the boat to catch a look of itself in the waters. the nymphs mourned for him, especially the water-nymphs; and when they smote their breasts echo smote hers also. they prepared a funeral pile and would have burned the body, but it was nowhere to be found; but in its place a flower, purple within, and surrounded with white leaves, which bears the name and preserves the memory of narcissus. milton alludes to the story of echo and narcissus in the lady's song in "comus." she is seeking her brothers in the forest, and sings to attract their attention: "sweet echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen within thy aery shell by slow meander's margent green, and in the violet-embroidered vale, where the love-lorn nightingale nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair that likest thy narcissus are? o, if thou have hid them in some flowery cave, tell me but where, sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere, so may'st thou be translated to the skies, and give resounding grace to all heaven's harmonies." milton has imitated the story of narcissus in the account which he makes eve give of the first sight of herself reflected in the fountain: "that day i oft remember when from sleep i first awaked, and found myself reposed under a shade on flowers, much wondering where and what i was, whence thither brought, and how. not distant far from thence a murmuring sound of waters issued from a cave, and spread into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved pure as the expanse of heaven; i thither went with unexperienced thought, and laid me down on the green bank, to look into the clear smooth lake that to me seemed another sky. as i bent down to look, just opposite a shape within the watery gleam appeared, bending to look on me. i started back; it started back; but pleased i soon returned, pleased it returned as soon with answering looks of sympathy and love. there had i fixed mine eyes till now, and pined wi vain desire, had not a voice thus warned me: 'what thou seest, what there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself;'" etc. --paradise lost, book iv. no one of the fables of antiquity has been oftener alluded to by the poets than that of narcissus. here are two epigrams which treat it in different ways. the first is by goldsmith: "on a beautiful youth, struck blind by lightning "sure 'twas by providence designed, rather in pity than in hate, that he should be like cupid blind, to save him from narcissus' fate." the other is by cowper: "on an ugly fellow "beware, my friend, of crystal brook or fountain, lest that hideous hook, thy nose, thou chance to see; narcissus' fate would then be thine, and self-detested thou would'st pine, as self-enamoured he." clytie clytie was a water-nymph and in love with apollo, who made her no return. so she pined away, sitting all day long upon the cold ground, with her unbound tresses streaming over her shoulders. nine days she sat and tasted neither food nor drink, her own tears and the chilly dew her only food. she gazed on the sun when he rose, and as he passed through his daily course to his setting; she saw no other object, her face turned constantly on him. at last, they say, her limbs rooted in the ground, her face became a flower [footnote: the sunflower.] which turns on its stem so as always to face the sun throughout its daily course; for it retains to that extent the feeling of the nymph from whom it sprang. hood, in his "flowers," thus alludes to clytie: "i will not have the mad clytie, whose head is turned by the sun; the tulip is a courtly quean, whom therefore i will shun; the cowslip is a country wench, the violet is a nun;- but i will woo the dainty rose, the queen of every one." the sunflower is a favorite emblem of constancy. thus moore uses it: "the heart that has truly loved never forgets, but as truly loves on to the close; as the sunflower turns on her god when he sets the same look that she turned when he rose." hero and leander leander was a youth of abydos, a town of the asian side of the strait which separates asia and europe. on the opposite shore, in the town of sestos, lived the maiden hero, a priestess of venus. leander loved her, and used to swim the strait nightly to enjoy the company of his mistress, guided by a torch which she reared upon the tower for the purpose. but one night a tempest arose and the sea was rough; his strength failed, and he was drowned. the waves bore his body to the european shore, where hero became aware of his death, and in her despair cast herself down from the tower into the sea and perished. the following sonnet is by keats: "on a picture of leander "come hither all sweet maidens soberly, down looking aye, and with a chasten'd light hid in the fringes of your eyelids white, and meekly let your fair hands joined be as if so gentle that ye could not see, untouch'd, a victim of your beauty bright, sinking away to his young spirit's night, sinking bewilder'd'mid the dreary sea. 'tis young leander toiling to his death nigh swooning he doth purse his weary lips for hero's cheek, and smiles against her smile o horrid dream! see how his body dips dead-heavy; arms and shoulders gleam awhile; he's gone; up bubbles all his amorous breath!" the story of leander's swimming the hellespont was looked upon as fabulous, and the feat considered impossible, till lord byron proved its possibility by performing it himself. in the "bride of abydos" he says, "these limbs that buoyant wave hath borne." the distance in the narrowest part is almost a mile, and there is a constant current setting out from the sea of marmora into the archipelago. since byron's time the feat has been achieved by others; but it yet remains a test of strength and skill in the art of swimming sufficient to give a wide and lasting celebrity to any one of our readers who may dare to make the attempt and succeed in accomplishing it. in the beginning of the second canto of the same poem, byron thus alludes to this story: "the winds are high on helle's wave, as on that night of stormiest water, when love, who sent, forgot to save the young, the beautiful, the brave, the lonely hope of sestos' daughter. o, when alone along the sky the turret-torch was blazing high, though rising gale and breaking foam, and shrieking sea-birds warned him home; and clouds aloft and tides below, with signs and sounds forbade to go, he could not see, he would not hear or sound or sight foreboding fear. his eye but saw that light of love, the only star it hailed above; his ear but rang with hero's song, 'ye waves, divide not lovers long.' that tale is old, but love anew may nerve young hearts to prove as true." chapter xiv minerva--niobe minerva minerva, the goddess of wisdom, was the daughter of jupiter. she was said to have leaped forth from his brain, mature, and in complete armor. she presided over the useful and ornamental arts, both those of men--such as agriculture and navigation--and those of women,--spinning, weaving, and needlework. she was also a warlike divinity; but it was defensive war only that she patronized, and she had no sympathy with mars's savage love of violence and bloodshed. athens was her chosen seat, her own city, awarded to her as the prize of a contest with neptune, who also aspired to it. the tale ran that in the reign of cecrops, the first king of athens, the two deities contended for the possession of the city. the gods decreed that it should be awarded to that one who produced the gift most useful to mortals. neptune gave the horse; minerva produced the olive. the gods gave judgment that the olive was the more useful of the two, and awarded the city to the goddess; and it was named after her, athens, her name in greek being athene. there was another contest, in which a mortal dared to come in competition with minerva. that mortal was arachne, a maiden who had attained such skill in the arts of weaving and embroidery that the nymphs themselves would leave their groves and fountains to come and gaze upon her work. it was not only beautiful when it was done, but beautiful also in the doing. to watch her, as she took the wool in its rude state and formed it into rolls, or separated it with her fingers and carded it till it looked as light and soft as a cloud, or twirled the spindle with skilful touch, or wove the web, or, after it was woven, adorned it with her needle, one would have said that minerva herself had taught her. but this she denied, and could not bear to be thought a pupil even of a goddess. "let minerva try her skill with mine," said she; "if beaten i will pay the penalty." minerva heard this and was displeased. she assumed the form of an old woman and went and gave arachne some friendly advice "i have had much experience," said she, "and i hope you will not despise my counsel. challenge your fellow-mortals as you will, but do not compete with a goddess. on the contrary, i advise you to ask her forgiveness for what you have said, and as she is merciful perhaps she will pardon you." arachne stopped her spinning and looked at the old dame with anger in her countenance. "keep your counsel," said she, "for your daughters or handmaids; for my part i know what i say, and i stand to it. i am not afraid of the goddess; let her try her skill, if she dare venture." "she comes," said minerva; and dropping her disguise stood confessed. the nymphs bent low in homage, and all the bystanders paid reverence. arachne alone was unterrified. she blushed, indeed; a sudden color dyed her cheek, and then she grew pale. but she stood to her resolve, and with a foolish conceit of her own skill rushed on her fate. minerva forbore no longer nor interposed any further advice. they proceed to the contest. each takes her station and attaches the web to the beam. then the slender shuttle is passed in and out among the threads. the reed with its fine teeth strikes up the woof into its place and compacts the web. both work with speed; their skilful hands move rapidly, and the excitement of the contest makes the labor light. wool of tyrian dye is contrasted with that of other colors, shaded off into one another so adroitly that the joining deceives the eye. like the bow, whose long arch tinges the heavens, formed by sunbeams reflected from the shower, [footnote: this correct description of the rainbow is literally translated from ovid.] in which, where the colors meet they seem as one, but at a little distance from the point of contact are wholly different. minerva wrought on her web the scene of her contest with neptune. twelve of the heavenly powers are represented, jupiter, with august gravity, sitting in the midst. neptune, the ruler of the sea, holds his trident, and appears to have just smitten the earth, from which a horse has leaped forth. minerva depicted herself with helmed head, her aegis covering her breast. such was the central circle; and in the four corners were represented incidents illustrating the displeasure of the gods at such presumptuous mortals as had dared to contend with them. these were meant as warnings to her rival to give up the contest before it was too late. arachne filled her web with subjects designedly chosen to exhibit the failings and errors of the gods. one scene represented leda caressing the swan, under which form jupiter had disguised himself; and another, danae, in the brazen tower in which her father had imprisoned her, but where the god effected his entrance in the form of a golden shower. still another depicted europa deceived by jupiter under the disguise of a bull. encouraged by the tameness of the animal europa ventured to mount his back, whereupon jupiter advanced into the sea and swam with her to crete. you would have thought it was a real bull, so naturally was it wrought, and so natural the water in which it swam. she seemed to look with longing eyes back upon the shore she was leaving, and to call to her companions for help. she appeared to shudder with terror at the sight of the heaving waves, and to draw back her feet from the water. arachne filled her canvas with similar subjects, wonderfully well done, but strongly marking her presumption and impiety. minerva could not forbear to admire, yet felt indignant at the insult. she struck the web with her shuttle and rent it in pieces, she then touched the forehead of arachne and made her feel her guilt and shame. she could not endure it and went and hanged herself. minerva pitied her as she saw her suspended by a rope. "live," she said, "guilty woman! and that you may preserve the memory of this lesson, continue to hang, both you and your descendants, to all future times." she sprinkled her with the juices of aconite, and immediately her hair came off, and her nose and ears likewise. her form shrank up, and her head grew smaller yet; her fingers cleaved to her side and served for legs. all the rest of her is body, out of which she spins her thread, often hanging suspended by it, in the same attitude as when minerva touched her and transformed her into a spider. spenser tells the story of arachne in his "muiopotmos," adhering very closely to his master ovid, but improving upon him in the conclusion of the story. the two stanzas which follow tell what was done after the goddess had depicted her creation of the olive tree: "amongst these leaves she made a butterfly, with excellent device and wondrous slight, fluttering among the olives wantonly, that seemed to live, so like it was in sight; the velvet nap which on his wings doth lie, the silken down with which his back is dight, his broad outstretched horns, his hairy thighs, his glorious colors, and his glistening eyes." "which when arachne saw, as overlaid and mastered with workmanship so rare, she stood astonied long, ne aught gainsaid; and with fast-fixed eyes on her did stare, and by her silence, sign of one dismayed, the victory did yield her as her share; yet did she inly fret and felly burn, and all her blood to poisonous rancor turn." [footnote: sir james mackintosh says of this, "do you think that even a chinese could paint the gay colors of a butterfly with more mmute exactness than the following lines: 'the velvet nap,' etc.?"--life, vol. ii, 246.] and so the metamorphosis is caused by arachne's own mortification and vexation, and not by any direct act of the goddess. the following specimen of old-fashioned gallantry is by garrick: "upon a lady's embroidery "arachne once, as poets tell, a goddess at her art defied, and soon the daring mortal fell the hapless victim of her pride. "o, then beware arachne's fate; be prudent, chloe, and submit, for you'll most surely meet her hate, who rival both her art and wit." tennyson, in his "palace of art," describing the works of art with which the palace was adorned, thus alludes to europa: "... sweet europa's mantle blew unclasped from off her shoulder, backward borne, from one hand drooped a crocus, one hand grasped the mild bull's golden horn." in his "princess" there is this allusion to danae: "now lies the earth all danae to the stars, and all thy heart lies open unto me." niobe the fate of arachne was noised abroad through all the country, and served as a warning to all presumptuous mortals not to compare themselves with the divinities. but one, and she a matron too, failed to learn the lesson of humility. it was niobe, the queen of thebes. she had indeed much to be proud of; but it was not her husband's fame, nor her own beauty, nor their great descent, nor the power of their kingdom that elated her. it was her children; and truly the happiest of mothers would niobe have been if only she had not claimed to be so. it was on occasion of the annual celebration in honor of latona and her offspring, apollo and diana,--when the people of thebes were assembled, their brows crowned with laurel, bearing frankincense to the altars and paying their vows,--that niobe appeared among the crowd. her attire was splendid with gold and gems, and her aspect beautiful as the face of an angry woman can be. she stood and surveyed the people with haughty looks. "what folly," said she, "is this!--to prefer beings whom you never saw to those who stand before your eyes! why should latona be honored with worship, and none be paid to me? my father was tantalus, who was received as a guest at the table of the gods; my mother was a goddess. my husband built and rules this city, thebes, and phrygia is my paternal inheritance. wherever i turn my eyes i survey the elements of my power; nor is my form and presence unworthy of a goddess. to all this let me add i have seven sons and seven daughters, and look for sons-in-law and daughters-in-law of pretensions worthy of my alliance. have i not cause for pride? will you prefer to me this latona, the titan's daughter, with her two children? i have seven times as many. fortunate indeed am i, and fortunate i shall remain! will any one deny this? my abundance is my security. i feel myself too strong for fortune to subdue. she may take from me much; i shall still have much left. were i to lose some of my children, i should hardly be left as poor as latona with her two only. away with you from these solemnities,--put off the laurel from your brows,--have done with this worship!" the people obeyed, and left the sacred services uncompleted. the god