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Amadis of Gaul,

VASCO LOBEIRA.

IN FOUR VOLUMES.

LONDON: Printed by N. Biggs, Crane-court, Fleet-street, FOR T. N. LONGMAN AND O. REES, PATERNOSTER ROW.

Book the First.

Amadis then placed Oriana upon the Damsels palfrey, while Gandalin caught one of the loose horses for the Damsel, and taking her bridle they left the place of battle. But Amadis as they went along reminded Oriana how she had promised to be his; hitherto, said he, I have known that it was not in your power to show me more favour than you did; but now that you are at full liberty, how should I support disappointments without the worst despair that ever destroyed man! Dear friend, quoth she, never for my sake shall you suffer, for I am at your will: though it be an error and a sin now, let it not be so before God.--When they had proceeded about three leagues they entered a thick wood, and about a league farther there was a town. Oriana, who had not slept a wink since she left her father's house, complained of fatigue: let us rest in that valley, said Amadis. There was a brook there and soft herbage; there Amadis took her from her palfrey: the noon, said he, is coming on very hot, let us sleep here till it be cooler, and meantime Gandalin shall go bring us food from the town. He may go, replied Oriana, but who will give him food?--They will give it him for his horse, which he may leave in pledge, and return on foot. No: said Oriana, let him take my ring, which was never before so useful: and she gave it to Gandalin, who, as he went by Amadis, said to him, he who loses a good opportunity, Sir, must wait long before he find another. Oriana laid herself down upon the Damsel's cloak, while Amadis disarmed, of which he had great need, and the Damsel retired farther among the trees to sleep. Then was his Lady in his power, nothing loth; and the fairest Damsel in the world became a Woman. Yet was their love encreased thereby, as pure and true love alway is.

When Galaor returned, the Damsel prepared the food; and, though they had neither many serving-men, nor vessels of gold and silver, yet was that a sweet meal upon the green grass in the forest.

When Galaor had searched the forest throughout, and found nothing, he resolved to proceed, and ascend some eminence the next day to look about. So recovering the road, he went on till he came into the open country, and there he saw before him in a valley a little fire. Thither he went; it was some forgemen, and they seeing him come among them in arms, took up lances and hatchets to defend themselves; but he bidding them not fear, besought them to give him some barley for his horse. The which they did, and he gave the beast his supper. They would have given him also to eat, but he would not; only he lay down to sleep, requesting them to wake him before day-break. The night was two parts gone, and Galaor lay down by the fire, completely armed. At dawn he rose, for he had not slept much for pure vexation, and, commending them to God, he took his leave. His Squire had not been able to keep pace with him, and thenceforth he vowed if God prospered him, to give his Squire the better horse. So he rode to a high hill, and from thence began to look all round him.

Galaor had now taken the chain from Lisuarte, and fastened it round the cousin of Arcalaus; they took the horses of the dead, one for the King, and one for Galaor, and rode towards London. They halted at the dwelling of Ladasin, and there found Galaor's Squire and Ardian the Dwarf, who thought his master had taken that way. A Squire was sent forthwith to inform the Queen of Lisuarte's safety. They rested that night; and, as they set forth on the morning, their prisoners confessed how all that had passed had been concerted with Barsinan, that he might make himself King of Great Britain; which, when Lisuarte heard, he spurred on in greater haste.

At night both parties retired: the Queen then sent for Arban; he went to her armed as he was, and wounded in many places, and, when he came before her, took off his battered helmet. There were five wounds in his face and neck, and his countenance was all bloody; but it seemed a beautiful face to those who, under God, thought him their protector. But the Queen seeing him, wept aloud with great pity: Ah, good nephew, God defend thee! what will become of the King? and what will become of us? Of him, quoth Arban, we shall have good news; for ourselves, fear nothing from these traitors: your vassals who are with me can defend themselves in their great loyalty.--But, Nephew, you are not in a state to bear arms, and what can the others do without you?--Fear not, Lady, so long as life is in me I shall not forsake my arms.

Barsinan, who found his people had need of rest, took twenty Knights with him in the morning, and went to a post which Arban's High Steward kept. They at the barrier took their arms to defend themselves, but Barsinan cried out that he came to speak with them, and make a truce till noon; to which Arban, being advised thereof, assented willingly, for the most part of his company had been so hardly handled that they could not bear arms. Barsinan then went to Arban, and said he would make a truce for five days. Agreed, said Arban, but provided that you shall not attempt to take any thing in the town; and that if the King comes, we immediately act as he may order us. I grant all this, said Barsinan, that there may be no more battling, for I value my own Knights, and I value you who will be mine sooner than you think. I will tell you how: the King is dead, and I have his daughter and will make her my wife. God forsake me then, quoth Arban, if ever thou shalt have truce with me, since thou art a partaker in the treason against my liege Lord! go and do thy worst! And before night Barsinan made three attacks upon him, and was repulsed.

Meantime Amadis asked Oriana what Arcalaus had said to her. He told me not to grieve, said she, for within fifteen days he would make me Queen of London, and give me Barsinan for my husband, to whom he was to give me and my father's head, and be made his High Steward in return. Holy Mary! quoth Amadis: Barsinan, who seemed such a friend! I fear lest he do injury to the Queen. Dear friend, cried Oriana, hasten on! I must to my sorrow, replied Amadis, for else I should have delighted to pass four days here in the forest with you, if it had pleased you. Oriana answered, God knows how willingly! but great evil might happen thereby to this land, which if God pleases will one day be yours and mine. As soon as it was morning Amadis armed himself, and leading his Lady's bridle, rode on as fast as they could towards London; and every where they met the Knights, five by five, and ten by ten, as they were seeking the King; more than a thousand they met, and told them which way the King was gone, and how Galaor was in quest of him. When they came within five leagues of London they met Grumedan, the good old Knight who had fostered the Queen; twenty of his lineage were with him, and they had been all night long scouring the forest. He seeing Oriana went towards her weeping: Oh God, Lady, what a good day with your coming! but what tidings of the King? They told him what they knew, and Amadis said to him, Take you charge of Oriana, and bid all the Knights that you shall meet turn back, for if numbers can succour him, there are already more than enough gone: I must go with all speed to protect the Queen. With that he gallopped away: at the entrance of the city he found the Squire whom Lisuarte had sent with the news of his deliverance, and learnt also the state of the city. So entering as privately as he could he went to Arban, who embraced him right joyfully, and asked, what news? As good as heart could wish! quoth Amadis: let us go to the Queen. He took with him Ladasin's messenger, and kneeling before Brisena, said, Lady, this Squire has left Lisuarte safe and well, and I have left Oriana with your fosterer Grumedan; they will soon be here, but I must go look after Barsinan. He then changed his shield and helmet that he might not be known, and bade Arban throw down the barriers, that the traitors might come freely on, for by God's help they shall pay dearly for their treason! The barriers were thrown down, and Barsinan prest on at the head of his people, thinking that all would now be his, for his own men were many and his enemies few, and he was eager to seize the Queen. The King's party gave back being overpowered, then Amadis went forth; he had on a rusty helmet, and a plain shield hanging from his neck; but he was soon judged to be a good one, and he went on making his way through the press; and having the good sword of Lisuarte by his side. He forced his way to Barsinan and encountered him; drove his lance through shield and corselet, and left the broken spear in him half way of its iron; then drew he his sword, and smote off the crest and top of his helmet, and the scalp of his head, for the sword cut so finely that Amadis could scarce feel the blow he gave; with another stroke he sheared thro' gauntlet and hand, and the sword passing through the bone of the wrist, fell on the leg and entered in half through. Then Barsinan fell, and Amadis turned upon the throng, and King Arban so prest them that they who could escape slaughter ran to the Tower, and made fast the gates. Amadis finding he could not force entrance readily, went back to Barsinan, and finding him still alive, ordered that he should be carried to the palace and kept till the King's return. Then the strife being over, he looked at the bloody sword which he held in his hand. Sword! quoth he, in a happy day was the Knight born who shall wield you! and certes you are well employed, for being the best in the world, you belong to the noblest King! He then disarmed himself, and went to the Queen; and Arban was laid in his bed, as there was great need, for he was sorely wounded.

These dangers over the court proceeded as before, making great pastimes and festivals as well by night in the town, as by day in the fields. On one of those days the Lady and her sons arrived, before whom Amadis and Galaor had made their covenant with Madasima. They seeing her went honourably to bid her welcome. Friends, said she, you know wherefore I am come: what will you do in this case? will you not keep your promise, for to-day is the time? In God's name, replied Galaor, let us go before the King. Let us go, quoth she. Then coming into the presence, the Lady made her obeisance and said, Sir, I come here to see these Knights perform a covenant which they have made; and then she repeated what they had promised to Madasima, the Lady of Gantasi. Ah Galaor, cried the King, you have undone me! Galaor answered, better this than to die: if we had been known, all the world could not have saved our lives; and now the remedy is easier than you imagine. Brother, remember you have promised to follow my example! Then Galaor related before the King, and all the Knights present, by what treachery they had been taken. Sir King, said he, I now forsake you and your company for the sake of Madasima, the Lady of Castle Gantasi; for it is her will to do you this displeasure, and whatever others she can, for the hatred she bears you. Amadis affirmed what his brother had said. Have we performed our covenant? then said Galaor to the three witnesses; they answered, yes, truly, you have acquitted your promise. In God's name! quoth Galaor, and now you may return when you please, and tell Madasima that she hath not made her terms so cunningly as she thought, as you may see. Sir, we have kept our covenant with Madasima, and forsaken your service; but it was not stipulated how long we were to be out of your service, therefore we are free to use our own will, and freely again enter your service as before. At this Lisuarte was greatly pleased, and said to the Lady, Certes these Knights have fairly acquitted themselves of a promise so treacherously obtained, and just it is that they who deceive should be themselves deceived. Tell Madasima, that, if she hates me, she had it in her power to do me the greatest ill that could happen; but God, who has preserved them from other perils, would not suffer them to perish by such hands. If it please you, Sir, said the Lady, tell me who these Knights are?--Amadis and Don Galaor his brother. What! was Amadis in her power? cried she: now God be praised that they are safe, for certes it had been great misadventure if two such good men had so perished? She will be ready for pure vexation to inflict the death upon herself which she designed for them. Truly, quoth the King, that would be more justly done. So the Lady went her way.

Twelve days together did King Lisuarte continue his court, and, when it broke up, though many Knights departed to their own lands, it was a wonder how many remained, and in like manner many Dames and Damsels continued to abide with the Queen. Among those whom the King received into his company were the cousins Ladasin and Guilan the pensive, both good Knights, but Guilan was the better of the twain, for in the whole kingdom of London there was none who surpassed him in worth; but so absent was he, that none could enjoy his conversation or company, and of this love was the cause, and that to a Lady who neither loved him nor any thing else to such an excess: her name was Brandalisa, sister to the Queen of Sobradisa, and married to the Duke of Bristol.

The day came whereon that Duke was summoned to appear and answer the appeal of Olivas. The Duke arrived, and was courteously by the King received. Sir, quoth he, you have summoned me to answer an accusation: he who made it lies, and I am ready to acquit myself as you shall judge right. Then uprose Olivas, and with him all the Errant Knights present. Lisuarte asked why they all arose. Grumedan answered, because the Duke threatens all Knights Errant, and therefore we are all concerned. Certes, quoth the King, a mad war hath he undertaken! there is not in the world a King so mighty, or so wise, that he could bring a war like that to good issue! but retire you at present, and seek not now to avenge yourselves: he shall have full justice. All then withdrew, but Olivas, who said, the Duke who standeth before you, Sir, hath slain my Cousin-german, who never by word or deed gave him occasion of offence: I therefore accuse him as a traitor for this, and will either make him confess it, or kill him, or force him out of the lists. The Duke told him he lied, and that he was ready to acquit himself. The combat was fixed for the next day, for the Duke's two nephews who were to fight on his side were not yet arrived.

They came that evening; the Duke made such account of them that he thought Olivas could not produce their peers. They went before the King. Olivas defied the Duke, who demanded battle, three to three. Then Don Galvanes, who was at the feet of the King, rose, and called his nephew Agrayes, and said to Olivas, Friend, we promised to be on your side if need was: now then let the battle be. When the Duke saw them, he remembered how they had rescued the Damsel whom he would have burnt, and he was somewhat abashed. They armed themselves, and entered the place appointed for such trials; one party through the one gate, the other on the opposite side. From the Queen's window Olinda overlooked the lists, and seeing Agrayes about to fight her heart failed her; and Mabilia and Oriana were greatly grieved for the love they bore to him and Galvanes. The lists were cleared: the King withdrew from them, and the champions ran their encounter. Agrayes and his Uncle dismounted their enemies, and broke both their lances. Olivas made the Duke fall on his horse's neck, but received a deep wound himself, and the Duke recovered his seat. Agrayes rode at him, and laid on him a heavy load of blows, heartily hating him for his great discourtesy and falsehood; but one of the dismounted Knights struck at the Prince's horse, and buried the sword in his flank: the horse fell, and the Duke and his Nephew both assailed Agrayes as he lay upon the ground. Don Galvanes, closely busied with his antagonist, saw nothing of this. At that hour all who loved Agrayes were in great consternation; Amadis yearned to be among them, for he greatly feared his cousin's death; the three Damsels above were well nigh desperate, and it was pitiful to behold Olinda, what she suffered. Howbeit, Agrayes got on his feet, and with the good sword of Amadis, which he wielded, laid lustily about him. Ah, God, cried Galaor aloud, what is Olivas about this while! better that he had never borne arms, if he fails at a time like this! But Galaor knew not what sore agony Olivas suffered; for he had such a wound, and bled so fast, that it was a wonder how he kept his seat. He saw the peril of Agrayes, and heaving a deep sigh, as one whose heart did not fail him though his strength was failing, he cried, Oh God, let me help my good friend before my soul depart! and then, feebly as he could, he laid hand to sword and turned upon the Duke, and his spirit kept him up. Agrayes was now left man to man, and he remembered that his Lady saw him, and he laid on so furiously that his friends trembled lest his strength and breath should fail him; but this was his custom, and if his strength had been equal to his great courage, he would have been one of the best Knights in the world; but even as it was he was right good, and of great prowess. Anon he had cut through armour and flesh in sundry places, and left his foe quivering with death, at the same moment when Olivas, fainting for loss of blood, fell from his horse. The Duke not seeing how Agrayes had fared, turned upon Galvanes; Agrayes leaped upon Olivas's horse, and rode to his Uncle's assistance: he smote the Duke's Nephew upon the helmet, so that the sword stuck there; and plucking it away, he burst the lacings, and left him bareheaded to the wrath of Galvanes, while he turned upon the Duke. Presently Galvanes having finished his enemy, attacked the Duke on the other side, but his horse being wounded fell and bruised him, so that man to man were left. Still were all the beholders right glad; but above all Don Guilan, who hoped to see the Duke slain, for the love he bore to his wife. The Duke was flying, Agrayes reached the rim of his shield, the sword went in, the Duke threw off the shield from his neck, and still fled; then turned, while Agrayes was recovering his sword, and struck twice at him. The Prince, as soon as his weapon was free, requited him with a blow on the left shoulder that went through harness and flesh and bone, down to the ribs. The Duke fell, but hung in the stirrup, and the horse dragged him out of the lists, and when he was picked up his head was found dashed to pieces by the horse's heels. Agrayes forthwith alighted, and ran to his uncle, and asked how he fared. Bravely, quoth Galvanes, God be thanked! but I am right sorry for Olivas, for methinks he is dead. They then cast the two nephews out of the lists; then went to Olivas, and found that he had just opened his eyes, and was asking to be confessed. Galvanes looked at his wound: take heart, cried he, it is not in a dangerous place! Sir, replied Olivas, my heart and all my limbs are dying away; I have been sore wounded ere now, but never was in such weakness. They disarmed him, and the fresh air was of service, and the blood somewhat ceased. The King sent a bed whereon to remove him, and skilful surgeons dressed his wound, and said that though it was very deep, by God's help they could heal it.

The Queen then sent Grumedan to bring Brandalisa to court, and, with her, her niece Aldeva: Thereat was Don Guilan well pleased, and in a month they arrived, and were honourably welcomed. So the fame of King Lisuarte went abroad, and in half a year it was a marvel how many Knights came from foreign parts to serve him, whom he rewarded bountifully, hoping by their aid not only to preserve his own kingdom, but to conquer others, that in old times had been subject and tributary to Great Britain.

This history has related to you how Amadis promised Briolania to revenge her father's death, and how she gave him a sword, and that when in his combat with Gasinan he broke the sword, he gave the pieces to Gandalin's care: You shall now hear how the battle was performed, and what great danger he underwent because of that broken sword, not from any fault of his own, but for the ignorance of his dwarf Ardian.

Amadis, now recollecting that the time was come to perform his promise, acquainted Oriana, and requested her leave, though to him it was like dividing his heart from his bosom to leave her; and she granted it, albeit with many tears, and a sorrow that seemed to presage what evil was about to happen. Amadis took the Queen's leave for form's sake, and departed with Galaor and Agrayes. They had gone about half a league, when he asked Gandalin if he had brought the three pieces of the sword which Briolania had given him, and finding he had not, bade him return and fetch them. The Dwarf said he would go, for he had nothing to delay him; and this was the means whereby Amadis and Oriana were both brought into extreme misery, neither they nor the Dwarf himself being culpable.

The Dwarf rode back to his master's lodging, found the pieces of the sword, put them in his skirt, and was retiring, when, as he passed the palace, he heard himself called. Looking up, he saw Oriana and Mabilia, who asked him why he had not gone with his master. I set out with him, said he, but returned for this; and he showed her the broken sword. What can your master want a broken sword for? quoth Oriana. Because, said the Dwarf, he values it more than the two best whole ones, for her sake who gave it him.--And who is she--The Lady for whom he undertakes this combat, and though you are daughter to the best King in the world, yet, fair as you are, you would rather win what she has won, than possess all your father's lands.--What gain so precious hath she made? perchance she hath gained your master?--Yes, she has, his whole heart! and he remains her Knight to serve her! Then, giving his horse the lash, he gallopped away, little thinking the wrong he had done. Oriana remained pale as death; she burst into bitter reproaches against the falsehood of Amadis, and wrung her hands, and her heart was so agitated that not a tear did she shed. It was in vain that Mabilia and the Damsel of Denmark strove to allay her rage with reasonable words: as passionate women will do, she followed her own will, which led her to commit so great an error, that God's mercy was necessary to repair it.

The Dwarf rejoined his master, and showed him the pieces of his sword, but Amadis asked him no questions, and he said nothing of what had passed. Presently they met a Damsel, who asked whither they were going.--Along this road.--I advise you to leave it.--Why?--Because no Knight hath taken it for fifteen days but he hath been either slain or wounded. And who hath done all this mischief? quoth Amadis.--The best Knight in arms that I have ever seen. Damsel, said Agrayes, you must shew us this Knight.--He will shew himself so soon as you enter the forest. The Damsel then followed them; they looked all round the forest in vain, till, as they were at the other side thereof, they saw a Knight of good stature completely armed, on a roan horse, holding a lance, and a Squire by him with four other lances. He speaking to his Squire, the man laid the lances against a tree, and came up to the Knights.--Sirs, yonder Knight sends to inform ye that he hath kept this forest for fifteen days against all Knights Errant with fair fortune, and for the pleasure of the joust hath yet stayed a day and a half longer than his time appointed; he says, that if it please you to joust with him he is ready, but there shall be no sword combat, for in that he hath done much evil against his own will, and will avoid it henceforth if he can. Agrayes had taken his helm and thrown the shield round his neck, while the Squire was speaking: tell him to defend himself! quoth he. They ran their race; their spears brake, and Agrayes was dismounted, and his horse ran loose, whereat he was greatly ashamed. Galaor took his arms to avenge him; the lances were broken: their bodies met with such force, that Galaor's horse, being the weaker and more weary, fell and threw him, and then ran away. Amadis seeing this, blessed himself: in truth, said he, the Knight may well be praised, for he hath proved himself against two of the best in the world; but as he went on to take his turn he found Galaor on foot, with his sword in hand defying the Knight to battle, but the Knight laughed at him; and Amadis said, brother, do not chafe yourself; it was the covenant that there should be no sword-battle. Then he bade the stranger defend himself, and they ran at each other: their spears flew up in splinters; they came against each other, shield and helmet; the horse fell with Amadis, and the horse broke his shoulder; the Knight of the forest was dismounted, but he held the reins, and lightly took the saddle again. Quoth Amadis, you must joust again, for this encounter was equal, we both fell. I do not chuse to joust again, said he. Amadis replied, Knight, you do me wrong. Right yourself when you can! said the other: I am bound no farther, as I sent to tell you! and then he gallopped away through the forest.

Amadis leapt upon Gandalin's horse, and told his companions to follow him as fast as they could to find that Knight, for they were all greatly abashed. Quoth the Damsel, it will be a foolish quest: all the Knights of King Lisuarte's household would fail to find him without a guide. My friend, said Galaor, belike you know who he is, and where to be found? If I do, quoth she, I mean not to tell you, for I would bring no harm to so good a man. Ah, Damsel, said Galaor, by the faith you owe to God, and by the thing in the world which you love best, tell me what you know of him. She answered, I care not for these conjurings, and will not discover him for nothing. Ask what you will, quoth Amadis.--Tell me your name, and promise me each a boon hereafter, when I shall demand it. They in their earnestness promised. When she heard the name of Amadis, she exclaimed, God be praised, for I was seeking you!--And wherefore?--You shall know when it is time; but tell me, have you forgot your promise to the daughter of the King of Sobradisa, who let loose the lions to save you? I am now going, replied Amadis, to perform the battle. Why then, quoth she, would you turn astray to follow this Knight, who is not so easy to find as you imagine, when your day is appointed for the combat? She says true, Sir brother, said Galaor: go you with Agrayes upon this business; I will follow the Knight with this Damsel, for I shall never have joy till I find him, and I will join you in time for the battle if it be possible. In God's name! cried Amadis, but tell us, Damsel, the name of the Knight.--I know it not, yet once I was a month with him and saw never else such deeds of arms; but I can show where he is to be found. Then Galaor departed with her.

Amadis and Agrayes proceeded till they came to the castle of Torin, the dwelling of that fair young Damsel, who was now grown so beautiful that she appeared like a bright star. What think you of her? said Amadis. Agrayes answered, if her Maker designed to make her beautiful, he has most perfectly accomplished his will. They were disarmed, and mantles given them, and they were conducted into the hall. But when Briolania saw Amadis how young he was, for he was not twenty, and how beautiful, for even the scars in his face became him, and of what fair renown he was, she thought him the best Knight in the world, and greatly affected him; so that when by his help she had recovered her kingdom, she would have given him herself and that, but Amadis told her right loyally how he was another's.

Four days Galaor rode with the Damsel, and so wrathful was he for this fall that whatever Knight encountered him in that time felt the effects, and many were slain for the act of another. At length they saw a fair fortress, built above a vale; the Damsel told him there was no other place near where he could lodge that night, and they made up to it. At the gate they found many men and Dames and Damsels, so that it seemed to be the house of a good man, and among them was a Knight of seventy years, with a cloak of scarlet skin, who courteously bade him welcome. Sir, quoth Galaor, you welcome us so well, that, tho' we found another host, we would not leave your hospitality. Then were they led into a hall, and supper was given them right honourably; and, when the cloths were removed, the old Knight went to Galaor and asked him if the Damsel was to be his bedfellow. He replied, no; and two Damsels then conducted her to her chamber, while he was shewn a rich bed for himself. Here rest yourself, said his host: God knows the pleasure I have in entertaining you, and all Errant Knights, for I myself have been one, and have two sons who are the like, but both now are badly wounded, for there came by a Knight who dismounted them both, and they greatly ashamed of their foil rode after him, and came up to him by a river as he was about to cross it in a boat; and they would have made him do battle with the sword, since they knew how he could joust. The Knight, who was in haste, would have declined the battle, but my sons prevented him from entering the boat. A Lady who was in the boat then said to them, that they were discourteous in detaining her Knight against her will; but they said, he must needs do battle. Let it be, then, said the Lady, that he shall fight with the better of you twain, and if he conquer him that shall suffice. Not so, they answered; if one failed, the other would prove his fortune. The Knight then grew angry, and cried, come both, since you will not let me proceed! and one after the other he sent them from their horses, utterly confounded; then crossed the river and went his way. I went afterwards to bring home my sons, for they were sorely wounded: you shall see with what wounds, such as never before were given by any Knight. He then sent for the armour which they had worn, and it was so cut through with the sword that Galaor greatly marvelled, and asked what arms the Knight bore.--A vermilion shield with two grey lions, and another on his helmet, and he rides a roan horse. Know you who he is? cried Galaor. No, said the old Knight. It is the same Knight whom I am seeking, quoth Galaor, and, if I find him, I will revenge your two sons and myself, or die. Sir friend, quoth his host, I would counsel you to forbear the attempt, for as for what my sons have suffered they brought it on themselves; and then he bade him good night.

The next morning Galaor and his guide departed; they crossed the river in the boat, and proceeding about five leagues came to a fortress. Wait for me a little, said the Damsel; I will be here presently: and she entered the castle. Presently she returned, bringing with her another Damsel and ten Knights on horseback; and that other Damsel, who was passing fair, said to Galaor, Sir, my Cousin tells me you are in quest of the Knight who bears two grey lions in a vermilion shield, that you may know who he is; but I tell you that you cannot learn by force, for there is no Knight like him in all the islands, and he will neither tell you nor any other for three years, unless it be forced from him. Damsel, said Galaor, I shall not cease my enquiry, and would rather learn his name by force than by other means. Since that be so, said she, within three days I will bring you to him, at my Cousin's request. They set forth, and by vespers time came to an arm of the sea that clipped round an island, so that there was full three leagues of water to cross; a bark was ready at the harbour, but before they entered it an oath was demanded, that there was only one Knight in company. Why is this oath required? said Galaor. The Damsel replied, the Lady of the island will have it so; when one Knight has crost over, no other is suffered to come till the first return, or is slain.--Who is it that kills or conquers them?--The Knight whom you are seeking; he has been here half a year, and by this occasion: a turney was held here by the Lady of the island, and another Dame of great beauty; this Knight came hither from a foreign land, and being on her side won the victory. Whereat she was so pleased, that she never rested till she had won him for her paramour; but because he is desirous of seeking adventures, the Lady, to detain him with her, invites Knights to joust against him. If by chance they are slain, they are there interred; otherwise, they are sent back, and he gives their arms and horses to his mistress. She is a full fair Lady, and her name Corisanda; the island is called Gravisanda. How came he, said Galaor, to keep the forest? It was a boon asked of him by a Damsel, said she, tho' his mistress hardly permitted him to perform it.

The Knight mounted, and slowly rode down the height. Galaor was ready as soon as he saw him in the level, and bade him defend himself: they ran at each other; both lances were broken, both shields pierced, both Knights deeply wounded. Don Galaor drew his sword: the stranger said to him, Knight, by the faith you owe to God, and to the thing you love best, let us joust once more! You conjure me so, said Galaor, that I will do it, but I am sorry my horse is not so good as yours, else we would joust till one of us fell, or till all your lances were broken! The Knight made no answer, but called to his Squire for two lances, and sent the one to Galaor. Again they encountered: Galaor's horse came on his knees and tottered, and was almost down; the stranger lost both his stirrups, and was fain to hold round the neck of his horse. Galaor spurred up his and had now sword in hand; thereat the stranger, somewhat abashed, exclaimed, you are desirous to do combat with the sword; certes, I fear it rather for you than for myself: if you do not believe me, you shall see. Do your worst! quoth Galaor: I will either die, or revenge those whom you left in the forest. Then the stranger recollected that it was he who had defied him on foot, and he answered him angrily, revenge yourself if you can, but I rather think you will carry back one shame upon another.

The Ladies, seeing how gallantly they had jousted, thought they would then have accorded, but when they saw the sword-battle, they were greatly amazed at the fury with which it was begun. Such mortal blows they gave each other, that the head was often made to bow upon the breast, and the steel arches of the helmets were cut through, and their trappings, and the sword went through the linings and was felt upon the head; and the field was strewn with the fragments of their shields and their broken mail. This continued long, till each wondered that his antagonist could hold out. Galaor's horse at last began to fail him, and could scarcely move, whereat he waxed exceeding wroth, thinking that only this delayed his victory, for the stranger could lightly come on, and withdraw again from his blows. Galaor, when indeed he did reach him, made him feel the sword, but his horse tottered as if he had been blind, and he began to fear his own death more than he had ever done before in any battle, save in that with his brother Amadis, for from that he never expected to leave off alive. Next to Amadis, he thought this the best Knight he had ever encountered, albeit he doubted not of conquering him, were it not for the fault of his horse. Being in this strait, he called out. Knight! either finish the battle on foot, or give me another horse, or else I will slay yours, and that villainy will be your fault. Do your worst! replied the stranger: the battle shall not be delayed; it is a great shame that it hath lasted so long. Look to your horse then! quoth Galaor. The Knight rode close to him, fearing for his horse; so close, that Galaor caught him with both arms, and at the same instant spurred his own horse violently, and they both fell upon the ground, each holding his sword, and there they struggled for some time before they released each other. But, when they rose, they attacked again so furiously as if the battle were but then beginning; there was not a moment's respite, now that they could freely close or strike. As the fight continued Galaor perceived he was gaining the better, for his enemy's strength evidently weakened: Good Knight! quoth he, hold a while! whereat the other paused, being indeed in need of rest. You see, quoth Galaor, that I have the better of the battle; tell me your name, and why you so carefully conceal yourself, and I will acquit you from the combat and shall receive great pleasure; but unless you do this I will not leave you. Certes, quoth the Knight, I shall not leave off with these conditions: I never found myself so hardy in any battle as in this, and God forbid that any single Knight should ever know me, except to my great honour. Be not rash, cried Galaor; by my faith I swear never to let you go till I know who you are, and why you conceal yourself. God never help me, quoth the stranger, if ever you learn it from me: I will rather perish in battle than tell it, except to two Knights, to whom, tho' I know them not, I neither could nor ought to deny any thing. Who are they whom you value so much? quoth Galaor. Neither shall you know that, replied the stranger, because it seems that it would please you. Certes, rejoined Galaor; I will know what I ask, or one of us, or both, shall die. I am not averse to that, quoth his enemy. Then they renewed the combat with full fury; but the stranger waxed weaker, his armour was every where laid open and streaming with blood, till at last the Lady of the Island ran like one frantic to Galaor, and cried, hold, Knight! would the bark had been sunk that brought thee hither! Lady, said he, if it offends you that I am avenging myself, and one who is better than myself, the fault is not mine. Offer him no more harm, quoth she, or you shall die by the hands of one who will have no mercy. He answered, I know not how that may turn out, but I will not leave him till I know what I have asked.--And what is that?--His name, and why he conceals it? and who the two Knights are whom he esteems above the rest of the world. She answered, A curse upon him who taught you to strike, and upon you who have learnt so well! I will tell you: his name is Don Florestan; he conceals himself because he hath two brothers in this land of such passing worth in arms, that, albeit you have proved his prowess, he dares not make himself known to them, till, by his fame, he is worthy to join them; and these two Knights are in the household of King Lisuarte, the one is called Amadis, the other Don Galaor, and they are all three sons of King Perion. Holy Mary! cried Galaor, what have I done? and then he presented his sword to Florestan: good brother, take my sword, and the honour of the battle!--Are you my brother?--I am your brother Don Galaor. Then Florestan fell on his knees before him, saying, Sir, pardon me! for this offence that I have committed in combatting against you, was caused by no other reason than that I durst not name myself your brother, as I am, till I had somewhat resembled you in prowess. Galaor raised him up, and took him in his arms, and wept over him for joy, and for sorrow to see him so sorely wounded.

Cortando de los yelmos los arcos de azero con parte de las faldas dellos, assi qui las espadas descendian a los almofares, y las sentian en las cabe?as.

But the Lady beholding all this was greatly rejoiced. Sir, quoth she, if you gave me great anguish you have repaid it with double pleasure. They were then both carried into the castle and laid in bed, both in one apartment, and Corisanda, being skilful in chirurgery, looked to their wounds herself with great care; for she knew that if the one died, the other would die also for pure sorrow, and her own life would be doubtful if Florestan were in great danger.

This valiant and hardy Knight, Don Florestan, you should know how and in what land he was begotten, and by whom. Know then that when King Perion, being a young man and of good heart, sought adventures, he passed two years in Germany, doing great deeds in arms, and as he was returning with great glory to his own land, he lodged one day with the Count of Selandia, where he was right worshipfully entertained, and at night he was shewn to a rich bed, and there being weary with his journey fell asleep. Ere long he felt a Damsel embracing him, and her mouth joined to his; and, waking thereat, was drawing back, but she cried out, how is this, Sir? would you rather be alone in the bed? The King then looked at her by his chamber-light, and saw the fairest woman that ever he saw: tell me, quoth he, who you are? She answered, one that loves you, and gives you her love.--First tell me your name?--Why do you distress me with the question?--I must know.--I am the Count's daughter. Then the King said, it becomes not a woman of your rank to commit this folly: I tell you I will not do this wrong to your father. Ah, quoth she, ill betide those who praise your goodness! you are the worst man in the world, and the most discourteous! what goodness can there be in you when you thrust away a fair Lady of such lineage? King Perion answered, I shall do that which is to your honour and my own, not what would injure both. Then, quoth she, I will do that which shall grieve my father more, than if you consent to my will! and she leapt up and took King Perion's sword, that same sword which was laid in the ark with Amadis, and unsheathed it, and placed the point against her heart:--Will not my father grieve more for my death? When the King saw that, he was greatly astonished, and he sprung from the bed, crying, hold! I will perform your will! and he snatched the sword from her, and that night she became pregnant. On the morrow Perion departed, and never saw her more.

She, so long as she could, concealed her situation, and when the time drew nigh contrived to go visit her Aunt, with one Damsel; but as she was passing through a forest her pains came on her, and she alighted from her palfrey, and there brought forth a son. The Damsel seeing her in this plight, put the baby to her breast. Now, Lady, said she, the same courage that you showed in sinning, show now in supporting yourself till I return; and then she mounted her palfrey, and rode on as fast as she could to the Aunt's castle, and told her all that had happened. The Dame was greatly troubled, yet delayed not for that to succour her, but went forthwith with a litter, wherein she used to visit her brother to shade her from the sun; and when she saw her niece she alighted, and wept with her, and had her placed with the infant in the litter, and taken by night into the castle, and enjoined secrecy to all who were with her. So the mother returned after her recovery to the Count's castle, and nothing was known of what had passed, and the boy was educated till he was of eighteen years, a braver youth, and better limbed than any other in the district; and the Dame his Aunt seeing this gave him horse and arms, and took him to the Count to knight him, who knew not that he whom he was knighting was his own grandson.

As they were returning, the Dame told him the secret of his birth, and said that he ought to go seek his father and make himself known to him. Certes, Lady, quoth he, I have often heard of King Perion, but never thought he was my father; but by the faith I owe to God, and to you who have brought me up, neither he nor any one else shall know who I am, till they can say that I am worthy to be the son of so good a man. Then taking his leave, he went with two Squires to Constantinople, where he heard there was a cruel war; there he remained four years, and did such deeds in arms as never Knight had wrought before in those parts, so that at the end of that time he determined to go and discover himself to his father. But as he drew nearer France, he heard the fame of Amadis and Galaor, who were now beginning to work wonders, so that he changed his first intention, and resolved to gain more honour in Great Britain, where there were more good Knights than in any part of the world, and that he would not make himself known till his prowess had given him sufficient renown: in which mind he continued till his combat with Galaor, as you have heard.

Amadis and Agrayes remained five days at the castle of Torin; then all things being prepared, they set forward with Briolania and her aunt, who took with them two damsels and five serving-men, on horseback, and three palfreys laden with apparel, for Briolania went in black, and would wear nothing else till her father's death was avenged. As they began their journey Briolania requested a boon of Amadis, and her Aunt another of Agrayes; the which they granted, without knowing what it might be: they then demanded, that, let what would happen, the Knights should not leave the road, that so their present quest might not be interrupted. Much did they repent their promise, and great shame did they endure thereby, for in many places was their succour needed, and rightly might they have bestirred themselves if they had been at liberty. Thus they travelled twelve days before they entered the kingdom of Sobradisa; it was night when they reached it: they left the high road, and struck by a by-way for three leagues; and then, great part of the night being past, they came to a little castle, where a Lady dwelt named Galumba, who had served in the court of the King Briolania's father. She right joyfully admitted them, and set supper before them, and provided their night's entertainment; and the next morning asked the Aunt whither they were going. A joyful woman was she, hearing that those Knights were going to revenge her Master's death; but I fear, said she, lest that traitor should destroy them by some deceit: for that reason, said the old Lady, am I come to consult with you. Leave it to me, quoth Galumba. Then she took ink and parchment, and wrote a letter, and sealed it with Briolania's seal, and gave it to a Damsel, and directed her what she should do. The Damsel mounted her palfrey, and rode on till she came to the great city of Sobradisa, from whence the whole kingdom took its name. She went directly to the palace of Abiseos, and rode through the gate, being richly apparelled. The Knights came around to assist her to dismount; but she said, no, she would not alight till the King saw her, and commanded her so to do. They then took her bridle, and led her into a hall where the King was, with his sons and many other Knights, and he bade her alight if she had any thing to say. She answered, I will, Sir, on condition that you protect me, and that I shall suffer no injury for any thing that I may say against you, or against any other here. The King assured her that she should be under his protection and royal faith, and bade her deliver what she was come to say. Upon that she alighted, and said, Sir, I bring a message which must be delivered in the presence of all the chiefs of your realm: summon them, and it shall be made known. Quoth Abiseos, it is as you would wish: they are already in my court, and have been assembled on business these six days. Call them together, said she. Forthwith they were summoned, and being all met, the Damsel then said, King, Briolania, she whom you disherited, sends you this letter, to be read before this assembly. When Abiseos heard the name of his niece he was touched with shame, remembering the wrong he had wrought her; yet, the letter was openly read, which was to give credit to the Damsel's words. To this he only replied, that they were not to believe what the Damsel might say on Briolania's behalf: but the people of the realm who were there present were moved with great compassion at the name of their lawful Lady, who was so unjustly dispossessed, and they besought God secretly that he would no longer suffer so great a treason to remain unpunished. Give your errand, quoth the King. Sir King, said the Damsel, it is true that you killed the father of Briolania, and have disherited her of her kingdom; and you have often declared, that you and your sons would justify what you have done by force of arms. Briolania now sends to say, that if you hold your word she will bring here two Knights who will undertake the battle in her cause, and make you know your treason and great tyranny. When Darasion, the eldest of the sons heard this, he arose in great anger, being of a hot nature, and without his father's permission replied, Damsel, if Briolania has these Knights, I promise the combat for myself, and for my father and brother; and, if I do not perform this, I promise before all these Knights to give my head to her, that she may take it in requital of her father's. Certes Darasion, answered the Damsel, you answer like a Knight of great courage, yet may I doubt your words to proceed from choler, for I see you are enraged; but if you will obtain from the King an assurance of your words, I shall think they proceed from that great worth and hardihood which are in you. What would you have? quoth he. Cause the King, she replied, to give our Knights assurance that, for any mishap which you may receive in the battle, they shall sustain no injury from any in this land, nor be meddled withal but by you three: give them this safe conduct, and they will be here within three days. Darasion knelt down before his father;--you see, Sir, what the Damsel requests, and what I have promised; and, because my honour is yours, let it be granted, else they will without danger have put us to shame, for we have always avowed that if any one attainted your deeds we would justify it in battle; and even without the promise we ought to accept the defiance, for they tell me these Knights are some of King Lisuarte's rash household, whose pride and folly makes them magnify their own worth and despise all others. The King, albeit he felt himself guilty of his brother's murder, and dreaded the battle, yet, because he loved his son as he did himself, gave the safe conduct as the Damsel had demanded, the hour appointed by the Most High being come. The Damsel having accomplished this, said, hold yourselves ready, for to-morrow the Knights will be here. And then she mounted her palfrey, and departed.

Much were the Ladies and the Knights rejoiced at the success of her embassy. When Amadis heard that Darasion held them as fools, because they were of King Lisuarte's household, he grew angry, and exclaimed, there are those in that household who could easily break his pride, and his head too! but, when he had said this, he was ashamed that he had been so mastered by anger. Briolania, who could not keep her eyes off him, observed this, and said, you cannot, Sir, either say or do any thing against those traitors which they have not deserved, and worse: have pity on me, since you know my father's murder, and my wrongs: my trust is in God and in you. Amadis, whose heart was submiss to virtue and all gentleness, moved with pity for that fair Damsel, answered, if God be so pleased, Lady, I ween that ere to-morrow night your sorrow will be turned into joy. Then Briolania would, for thankfulness, have humbled herself to have kissed his feet, but he drew back abashed, and Agrayes raised her up. They determined to set forward by day-break, and hear mass at the chapel of the Three Fountains, which was half a league from Sobradisa.

That night they made good cheer, and Briolania, who talked much with Amadis, was oftentimes moved to offer marriage to him, but seeing his frequent reveries, and the tears that sometimes fell down his cheeks, which she knew proceeded from no fear in his brave heart, she suspected that he loved elsewhere, and so refrained. At dawn they all departed; and, arriving at the Three Fountains, heard mass from the good Hermit, who hearing wherefore they were on their way, besought God to speed them well in the battle, as he knew their cause was right. There they armed themselves all save the head and hands, and so proceeded to the city. Without the walls they found King Abiseos and his sons, and a great company attending them: the people all flocked towards Briolania, whom in their hearts they loved, thinking her their rightful and natural Lady. Amadis led her bridle, and uncovered her face, that all might see her how beautiful she was: she was weeping, and the multitude blessed her in their hearts, and prayed that she might now be restored to her rights. Abiseos dissembled a feeling from which neither his ambition nor his wickedness could shield him, and seeing how the people flocked round Briolania, he exclaimed, fools, I see how you rejoice in her sight! but it is to your honour and safety that a Knight like me should protect you, not a weak woman; who in so long a time has only been able to get these two Knights for her champions; whom, because they are thus deceitfully brought to their death, or dishonour, I cannot forbear to pity. These words so kindled the indignation of Amadis, that blood seemed starting from his eyes; he rose in his stirrups that all might hear him, and answered, King Abiseos, I well see how the coming of Briolania troubles you, because you have murdered her father, who was your King and brother: if there be yet virtue enough in you to resign to her what is her own, I will excuse the battle, that you may have leisure for repentance, that, though you have lost your honour in this world, you may save your soul. Before the King could reply, Darasion exclaimed, Thou foolish Knight of King Lisuarte's court! I never thought I could endure to hear a speech like thine: come on! and if your heart fails, you cannot fly where I cannot reach you with such a vengeance, that none can behold it without compassion. Arm thyself, traitor, and do battle! quoth Agrayes. Darasion answered, say what thou wilt now! presently I will send thy tongue without thy body to King Lisuarte's court, as a warning to all such fools! Then they armed themselves; and Amadis and Agrayes laced on their helmets, and took their shields and spears, and entered the place which had been of yore marked out for such trials. Dramis, the second son, who was so good a Knight that no two Knights of that country could keep the field against him, said to his father, Sir, where you and my brother are present, I might well be excused from speaking; but now I have to act with that strength which I have received from God and you. Leave that Knight who has reviled you to me: if I do not slay him with the first lance-thrust, may I never again bear arms! or if it be his good fortune that the spear does not strike right, the first blow with the sword shall do it. There were many who heard this speech, and did not think it vain boasting, he was of such exceeding strength. Darasion looked round the lists: how is this? quoth he; ye are but two! hath the heart of the third failed him? call him to come directly, for we will not tarry. Trouble not yourself about the third, said Amadis, you will presently wish the second away: now look to your defence!

They placed their shields before them, and gave their horses the rein. Dramis ran right at Amadis, and pierced his shield and broke his lance against his side; but Amadis smote him so roughly, that the spear went through his shield, and, without piercing his breast-plate, burst his heart within him, and he fell like the fall of a tower. In God's name, cried Ardian the Dwarf, my Master's deed is better than his word! The other twain ran at Agrayes: he and Darasion broke their lances upon each other, and both kept their seats. Abiseos failed in his course; he saw Dramis on the ground, and in great grief, albeit he did not suppose him to be dead, ran full at Amadis, and pierced his shield, and broke the lance in his arm, so that all thought he could not continue the battle. Well may you think how Briolania felt at that; her heart sunk, and the sight of her eyes failed her, and without support she would have fallen from her palfrey. But he, who was not to be dismayed by such wounds, graspt well that good sword which he had so lately recovered from Arcalaus, and struck Abiseos upon the helm; through helm it went, and slanted down the head, and pierced into the shoulder; a slant wound, but so staggering that Abiseos tottered on his seat, and fell, half senseless. Then he of Gaul rode up to Darasion, who was close engaged with Agrayes:--now Darasion, you had rather the second were absent, than that the third were come! Agrayes cried out to him to hold:--Cousin, you have done enough, leave me this man who has threatened to cut out my tongue. Amadis did not hear him; he had made a blow which sliced off a part of the shield, and came through the pummel of the saddle to the horse's neck; but Darasion, as he past, ran his sword into the belly of Amadis's horse; the horse instantly ran away; the reins broke in the rider's hand, and Amadis seeing that he had no remedy, and that he should be carried out of the lists, struck the beast between the ears with his sword, and split his head; the fall bruised him sorely, but he arose, and turned to Abiseos.

At this time Agrayes had driven his sword into Darasion's helmet, so that he could not recover it. Darasion had forced it from his hand, and was driving at him. Agrayes grappled him; they fell together and struggled on the ground. Abiseos came up, and was lifting the skirts of his armour to thrust his sword into him. Amadis came up in time. The King was compelled to look to his own safety; he lifted his shield, the blow dashed shield against helmet, and made him reel. Agrayes and Darasion had loosed each other: Agrayes caught up Darasion's sword; Darasion plucked the other from his helm, and ran towards his father. Amadis saw that Agrayes was all bloody from a wound in his neck, and fearing it was mortal, he cried, leave them to me, good cousin, and rest yourself! I have no wound, quoth Agrayes, to keep me from aiding you: see if it be so! Have at them, then! cried Amadis; but the fear he felt for his cousin gave him such anger, that presently his enemies, their armour all hacked, and their flesh too, began to turn here and there disorderly, and with the fear of death. So it continued till the hour of tierce, when Abiseos, seeing death before him, lifted his sword in both hands, and ran desperately at Amadis, and gave him a blow, such as might not be looked for from a man so wounded: it cut away the brim of the helmet, and the shoulder mail and a part of the flesh with it. Amadis felt it sorely, and did not delay to give him his wages: he struck his shoulder, and lopt off that arm with which he had murdered his own king and brother; arm and shoulder he lopt off, and cried, that arm brought thee by treason to the throne, and it now brings thee to death and the depth of hell! The King had fallen in the pangs of death. Amadis looked round him, and saw that Agrayes had smitten off the head of Darasion. Then the people of the land went joyfully to kiss the hand of Briolania their Lady.

There follows in the original a page of advice to all wicked kings and rulers.

The conquerors dragged their enemies out of the lists. Amadis, though he was much wounded, would not disarm himself till he knew if there were any to gainsay Briolania's right. But one of the chiefs of the realm, by name Goman, came before him with an hundred men of his lineage and household, and they declared that they had only endured the usurpation of Abiseos because they had no remedy: now God had delivered them, they were in that loyalty and vassallage which they owed to Briolania. Within eight days all the kingdom came joyfully to do homage to her. Amadis meantime was laid in bed, and that fair Queen never left him but when she went to sleep herself. Agrayes, who was dangerously wounded, was put under the care of a skilful man, who suffered none to approach him, that he might not speak, for the wound was in his throat.

Don Galaor and Florestan remained in the castle of Corisanda till their wounds were well healed, then took they their departure; but Corisanda made such sorrow that it was pitiful to see her, albeit Florestan comforted her, and assured her of his speedy return. They crossed to the mainland, and proceeded towards Sobradisa, hoping to arrive there before the battle. Brother, quoth Florestan, as they rode along, grant me a boon for courtesy. Sir, and good brother, cried Galaor, is it a thing that I shall repent? You will not repent it, said Florestan.--Ask it then; for what I can grant without shame, I shall grant with good will.--I ask then, that you will attempt no combat in this journey till I have tried my fortune. Certes, quoth Galaor, I repent. Not so, replied Florestan, for if there be any worth in me, it is to your honour as well as to mine. Four days they rode without adventure: on the fifth at evening they came to a Tower. A Knight, who stood at the court-gate, courteously invited them for the night; and there were they worshipfully entertained. The Knight their host, was a fair Knight and a wise, and of goodly stature; but oftentimes he appeared so lost in thought and sadness, that the brethren asked each other what it might mean, and Don Galaor at last said to him, Sir, methinks you are not so chearful as you should be! if your sadness is for any cause which our aid can remedy, tell us, and we will do your will. Many thanks, replied he of the Tower: I believe you would do so like good Knights; but my sadness proceeds from the force of love, and I will not tell you more now, for it would be to my own great shame. The hour of sleeping came on; their host went to his apartment, and the brethren remained in a handsome chamber where there were two beds. In the morning he rode to bear them company, but unarmed; and, that he might see whether they were such in arms as their appearance bespoke them, he led them not along the high road, but through bye ways, till they came to a place called the fountain of the Three Elms, for there were three great and lofty Elm-trees above the fountain. Three fair Damsels and well apparelled, were by the fountain, and there was a Dwarf aloft in the trees. Florestan went first and saluted them gently, as a courteous man, and one who had been gently bred. God save you, Sir Knight, quoth the one; if you are as brave as you are handsome, God hath gifted you well. Damsel, he replied, if my beauty pleaseth you, my courage would please you more if it were put to proof. You answer well, quoth she: see now, if your courage be enough to carry me from hence.--Certes, quoth Florestan, little goodness is enough for that; since it is your pleasure, I will do it.--He then bade his Squires place her upon a palfrey which was tied to one of the Elms: when the Dwarf, who was sitting up in the tree, cried out aloud, Come forth, Knights, come forth! they are carrying away your mistress! At these words a Knight, well armed and on a great horse, came up from the valley, and cried out to Florestan, Knight! who bid you lay your hands upon that Damsel? I do not think she can be yours, replied Florestan, seeing of her own will she desired me to carry her hence. The Knight answered, though she consent, I do not; and I have defended her against better than you.--I know not how that may be, but unless you act up to your words, carry her away I will!--Learn first what the Knights of the Valley are, and how they defend their mistresses! With that they ran at each other, and Florestan smote his shield so strongly against his helmet that the laces brake, and the helmet came off. The Knight could not keep his seat; he fell upon his sword, and broke it in two. Florestan turned his horse and pointed his lance at him:--you are dead, unless you yield the Damsel! I yield her, quoth he, and cursed be she, and the day wherein I first beheld her, for she made me commit so many follies that at last I have destroyed myself. Florestan left him, and went to the Damsel, saying, you are mine! You have well won me, quoth she, and may do with me as you please. Let us go then! said he; but one of the other Damsels then said to him, Sir Knight, you are parting good company; we have been a year together, and it grieves us to be separated. Said Florestan, if you chuse to go in my company I will take you also, otherwise you must be separated, for I will not leave so fair a Damsel as this. And if she be fair, quoth the Damsel, neither do I esteem myself so ugly, but that Knight should venture something for me also; but I believe you are not of that temper. What! cried he, think you that I would leave you here for fear? so help me as I would have done so only to respect your free will, but you shall see. He bade the Squires place her also on her palfrey, and the Dwarf, who sate up aloft, cried out again for help.

Presently there came another Knight from the valley, and said to Florestan, Don Cavalier, you have won one Damsel, and, not content with her, you would carry off another; you must, therefore, lose both, and your head too; for it is not fit that a Knight of such degree as you should have in your keeping a Damsel of such rank. You praise yourself bountifully, quoth Florestan; yet had I rather have two Knights of my kin for my helpers than thee! I neither regard thee nor them, said the Knight: you have won this Damsel from him who could not defend her; if I conquer thee, she shall be mine; if the victory is yours, you shall take the other whom I defend. Content, quoth Florestan. Defend yourself now, if you can! said he of the valley; and they ran their encounter. The Knight pierced through Florestan's shield, and broke his lance against the strong mail. Florestan failed in the race; ashamed at that, when the Knight had taken from his Squire another lance, he ran again, and pierced the shield of his antagonist and the arm that held it, and drove him back upon the crupper of his horse; the horse reared and threw him, and, the ground being hard, he neither moved hand nor foot. Damsel, said Florestan, you are mine; for methinks your friend can neither help you nor himself. So it seems, quoth she.

Florestan looked at the other Damsel, who now remained alone by the fountain, and saw that she was very sad. Damsel, said he, if it please you, I will not leave you here alone. She did not answer him, but said to his host, Go from hence, I counsel you! you know that these Knights are not enough to protect you from him who will presently be here, and, if he take you, you are sure to die. I will see what may happen, he answered, my horse is swift, and my Tower at hand. Ah, said she, take care of yourself; ye are but three, and you unarmed, and you well know that is nothing against him. When Florestan heard this, he became more desirous to carry away that Damsel, and see him whom she praised so greatly. So he had her also placed on her palfrey; and the Dwarf, who sate up aloft, said, Don Cavalier, in an ill hour are you so bold: here comes one who shall take vengeance for all! and then he shouted out, help! help, Sir! you linger too long! Presently there came another Knight from the same valley; his armour was inlaid with gold, and he rode upon a bay horse, big enough for a giant. Two Squires came after him, armed with corselets and morions like serving men, and each carried a huge battle-axe in his hand, in the use of which weapon their master prided himself. He cried out to Florestan, stay, Knight, and seek not to fly, for it will not save you: die you must, and it is better die like a brave man, than like a coward! When Florestan heard himself threatened, he waxed wonderous angry, and cried out, come on, wretch and rascal, and clumsy fool! So help me God, as I fear thee no more than a great cowardly beast. Ah, quoth the Knight, how it grieves me that I cannot wreak sufficient vengeance upon thee! would that the best four of thy lineage were here, that I might cut off their heads with thine! Protect yourself from one, cried Florestan, you may dispense with the rest. Then, being both greatly incensed, they ran at each other, and the shields and the mails of both were pierced with the violence of the encounter: the large Knight lost both his stirrups, and was fain to save himself by clinging round his horse's neck. Florestan, as he past on, caught at one of the battle-axes, and plucked it with such force from the Squire who held it, that both the man and his horse were brought to the ground. The Knight of the Valley had recovered his seat, and was ready with the other battle-axe, and Florestan made at him with equal arms: both struck at once, each on the helmet of his enemy; the axes went in three fingers' depth. Florestan bowed his face upon his breast with the weight of the blow: the Knight fell upon the neck of his horse, and the axe, being fast in the other's helmet, slipt from his hand; before he could raise himself, Florestan smote him as he lay between the helm and gorget, so that his head fell at the horse's feet. This done, he turned to the Damsels. Certes, good Knight, quoth the first of them, I once thought that not ten such as you could have won us.

Ven cativa cosa, y mala, y fuera de razon, sin talle. The language of vituperation is not easily translatable.

The young Knight, their host, then came up to Florestan, and said, Sir, I love this Damsel dearly, and she loves me. It is a year since this Knight whom you have slain hath forcibly detained her, so that I could not see her: now, that I may receive her from your hands, I beseech you refuse me not. My host, quoth Florestan, of a truth I will right gladly aid you, if it be as you say; but against her will I will yield her to none. Ah, Sir, cried the Damsel, this is with my will! I beseech you give me to him: he is my true love. Florestan answered, in God's name, dispose of yourself as you like best! and she went joyfully to her true love. Galaor then gave his horse to their friend, and took the bay horse of the dead Knight, which was the handsomest he had ever seen, and then they separated. The two Damsels whom Florestan had won, were young and fair; he took the one to himself, and gave the other to Galaor: I give you to this Knight, said he, and command you to do as he pleases. What! quoth she, do you give me to this Knight, who has not the heart of a woman? who stood by and saw you in such danger, and did not help you? Damsel, answered Florestan, by my faith to God and to you, I swear that I give you to the best Knight whom I know in the world, except it be Amadis my Lord. The Damsel then looked at Galaor, and seeing him so handsome, and so young, she marvelled at his worth, and granted him her love. That night they had their lodging at the house of a Lady, sister to their last night's host. On the morrow they resumed their road, and said to their fair friends, we have a long journey to perform thro' foreign lands, where you would endure many hardships in following us: tell us where you would like best to go, and there we will conduct you. They replied, that their Aunt had a castle four days journey on that road whither they would go. As they proceeded, Galaor asked his Damsel how she came into the power of those Knights. She answered, that great Knight who was slain loved the Damsel who went with your host, but she hated him. He took her by force, for he was the best Knight in all these parts, and none could gainsay him, yet would she never yield him her love; and he, for the affection he bore her, withheld from offering her any wrong; and he said to her, My fair friend, great reason is it that I should be loved by you, being the best Knight in the world. Now I will do this for your sake: there is a Knight who is called the best that ever was, Amadis of Gaul by name, and he slew my cousin Dardan, in King Lisuarte's court; I will find him, and cut off his head, and then shall I inherit all his renown. Till I do this, I will give you two of the fairest Damsels in all this land for your companions, and they shall have the two best Knights of my lineage for their friends; and you shall every day be taken to the fountain of the Three Elms, where many Errant Knights pass, that you may see brave jousting, and learn to love me as I love you. He then took us by force, and gave us to his kinsmen, and thus had we past a year, till Don Florestan broke the bonds. That Knight, quoth Galaor, had a haughty mind: what was his name? Alumas, she answered; and, if it had not been for his exceeding pride, he was of great prowess. Thus they proceeded till they reached the Lady's castle, who thankfully entertained them, because they had delivered her nieces from Alumas and his kinsmen, who had forcibly and dishonourably detained them.

Galaor and Florestan proceeded till they reached the kingdom of Sobradisa, and there heard the joyful tidings of what their brother and Agrayes had done. They hastened to the city, and went immediately to the palace, where Amadis and his cousin, now whole of their wounds, were conversing with the new Queen. Amadis, from the Damsel who had guided Galaor, knew who they were, and went to welcome Florestan with tears of joy, embracing and kissing him who would have knelt before him. But when Briolania saw four such Knights in her palace, and recollected how powerful she now was, and how lately she had lived, not without fear, in a single castle, she knelt down, and thanked the Most High for the mercy he had vouchsafed her. Of a truth, Sirs, said she, these changes are the work of him, before whom the mightiest are nothing; but for this dominion, and this wealth, which we suffer so much anxiety and trouble to gain, and having gained, to keep; would it be better, as being neither certain nor durable in themselves, and as things superfluous and destructive to the body, and moreover to the soul,--would it be better to reject and abhor them? Certainly I say, no: and affirm, that, when they are gained with a good conscience, and justly administered, we may enjoy from them comfort and pleasure and joy in this world, and everlasting glory in the next.

Book the Second.

There was a King in Greece married to the sister of the Emperor of Constantinople, by whom he had two fair sons, especially the elder, named Apolidon, who in his days had no equal for strength of body and courage of heart. He having a subtle genius, which is so seldom found with valour, gave himself to the study of the sciences and of all arts, so that he shone among those of his own time like the Moon among the stars; especially he excelled in necromancy, whereby things that appear impossible are done. The King his father was very rich in treasure, but poor in life, by reason of his great age; and seeing himself at the point of death, he commanded that the kingdom should be given to Apolidon, as his eldest son, and his books and treasures to the other. The younger was not contented with this, and told his father so with tears, and complained that he was disherited; but the old man, not knowing what to do, wrung his hands for pure sorrow. Then that famous Apolidon, seeing his father's grief and the littleness of his brother, bade him take comfort, for he would accept the books and treasure, and relinquish the kingdom to his brother. Whereat the father gave him his blessing with many tears. So Apolidon took his inheritance, and fitted out certain ships, manning them with chosen Knights, and set forth into the sea, trusting himself to Fortune, who seeing his great obedience to his father, and how he had thrown himself upon her mercy, resolved to requite him with glory and greatness. A fair wind carried him to the empire of Rome, where Siudan was then Emperor, at whose court he abode some time, doing great feats in arms, till there grew a true affection between him and the Emperor's sister, Grimanesa, who then flourished among all other women for beauty. So it was that as he was loving, even so was he loved, and as their loves might no other ways be indulged, they left Rome together, and set sail in Apolidon's fleet, and sailed till they came to the Firm Island. There Apolidon landed, not knowing what country it was, and pitched a tent upon the shore, and placed a couch there for his Lady, who was weary of the sea. Presently there came down a fierce Giant, who was Lord of the island, with whom, according to the custom of the place, Apolidon was to do battle for the preservation of his Lady and himself, and his company. It ended in such sort that the Giant lay dead on the field, and Apolidon remained master of the island. When he had seen its strength, he neither feared the Emperor of Rome, whom he had offended, nor all the world besides; and there he and Grimanesa, being greatly beloved by the islanders, whom he had delivered from their oppressor, dwelt in all happiness for sixteen years. During that time many rich edifices were made, as well with his great treasures, as with his surpassing wisdom, such as it would have been difficult for any Emperor or King, how rich soever, to have completed. At the end of that time the Emperor of Greece died without an heir, and the Greeks, knowing the great worth of Apolidon, and that by his mother's side he was of the blood and lineage of the Emperors, elected him with one common consent to rule over them. He, albeit he was enjoying all possible delights in his own island, yet, with Grimanesa's consent, accepted the Empire; but she, before they left the island where she had enjoyed such rare happiness, requested her husband that he would work such a means by his great knowledge, that that island might never be possessed, except by a Knight as excellent in arms and loyal in love as himself, and by a Dame resembling her in beauty and truth.

Then Apolidon made an arch at the entrance of a garden, wherein there were all kind of trees, and also four rich chambers, but it was so surrounded that none could enter, except by passing under the arch, over which he placed the Image of a man made of copper, holding a trumpet in his mouth as if he would wind it. And in one of the chambers within he placed two figures, in the likeness of himself and his Lady, the countenances and the stature like unto them, so true that they seemed alive, and near them he placed a bright stone of jasper; and, about the distance of half a cross-bow shot, he made a perron of iron. Henceforward, said he, no man or woman who hath been false to their first love shall pass here, for yonder Image shall blow from that trumpet so dreadful a blast with smoke and flames of fire, that they shall be stunned and cast out as dead. But if Knight, or Dame, or Damsel come, worthy by virtue of true loyalty to finish this adventure, they shall enter without let, and the Image shall make a sound so sweet that it shall be delightful to hear, and they shall see our images, and behold their own name written in the jasper. Grimanesa afterwards ordered some of her Knights and Ladies to make trial, and then the Image blew the dreadful blast with smoke and flames of fire; whereat Grimanesa laughed, knowing them to be in more dread than danger. But yet, my Lord, quoth she, what shall be done with that rich chamber wherein we have enjoyed such great contentment? He answered, you shall see. Then he made two other perrons, one of stone, the other of copper: the stone one was placed five paces from the chamber, the copper one five paces farther off. Know now, said he, that henceforth in no manner, nor at any time, shall man or woman enter this chamber, till a Knight come who surpasses me in prowess, or a woman exceeding you in beauty; they shall enter. He then placed these words in the copper perron: Knights shall advance here, each according to his valour; and in the stone perron, he wrote: here none shall pass except the Knight who exceeds Apolidon in prowess. And over the door of the chamber he wrote: He who surpasses me in prowess shall enter here, and be Lord of the island. And he laid such a spell, that none could approach within twelve paces of the chamber round about, nor was there any entrance but by the perrons.

Then he appointed a Governor to rule the island, and collect the revenues, which were to be reserved for the Knight who should enter the chamber; and he commanded that all who failed in attempting to pass the Arch of Lovers, should, without ceremony, be cast out of the island; but such as passed through were to be entertained and served with all honour. And farther, he appointed that all Knights who attempted the adventure of the Forbidden Chamber, and did not pass the copper perron, should leave their arms there; but from those who advanced any way beyond it, only their swords should be taken. They who reached to the marble perron should leave only their shields, and if they penetrated beyond that, but failed to enter the chamber, they should lose only their spurs. From the Dames and Damsels who failed, nothing was to be taken, only their names should be placed upon the castle-gate, and an account how far they had advanced. Apolidon then said, when this island shall have another Lord, the enchantment shall be dissolved, and all Knights may freely pass the perrons and enter the chamber; but it shall not be free for women, till the fairest shall have come, and lodged in the rich chamber with the Lord of the island. These enchantments being thus made, Apolidon and his wife entered their ships, and passed over into Greece, where they reigned during their lives, and left children to succeed them.

While Amadis remained with his comrades at the court of Sobradisa, his thoughts were perpetually fixed upon his Lady Oriana; and, so thoughtful was he, and so often, both sleeping and waking, was he in tears, that all saw how he was troubled, yet knew they not the cause, for he kept his love silent, as a man who had all virtues in his heart. At length, not being able to support a longer absence, he asked permission of the fair young Queen to depart, which she not without reluctance having granted, loving him better than herself, he and his brethren and their cousin Agrayes took the road towards King Lisuarte. Some days had they travelled when they came to a little church, and entering there to say their prayers, they saw a fair Damsel, accompanied by two others, and by four Squires, who guarded her, coming from the door. She asked them whither they went. Amadis answered, Damsel, we go to the court of King Lisuarte, where, if it please you to go, we will accompany you. Thank you, quoth the Damsel, but I am faring elsewhere. I waited, because I saw you were armed like Errant Knights, to know if any of you would go and see the wonders of the Firm Island, for I am the Governor's daughter, and am returning there. Holy Mary! cried Amadis, I have often heard of the wonders of that island, and should account myself happy if I might prove them, yet till now have I never prepared to go! Good Sir, quoth she, do not repent of your delay; many have gone there with the same wish, and returned not so joyfully as they went. So I have heard, said Amadis: tell me, would it be far out of our road if we went there?--Two days journey.--Is the Firm Island then in this part of the sea, where is the enchanted Arch of True Lovers, under which neither man nor woman can pass that hath been false to their first love? The Damsel answered, it is a certain truth, and many other wonders are there. Then Agrayes said to his companions, I know not what you will do, but I will go with this Damsel, and see these wonderful things. If you are so true a lover, said she, as to pass the enchanted Arch, you will see the likenesses of Apolidon and Grimanesa, and behold your own name written upon a stone, where you will find only two names written besides, though the spell hath been made an hundred years. In God's name let us go, quoth Agrayes, and I will try whether I can be third. With that, Amadis, who in his heart had no less desire and faith to prove the adventure, said to his brethren, we are not enamoured, but we should keep our cousin company who is, and whose heart is so bold. Thereto they all consented, and set forth with the Damsel. What is this island? said Florestan to Amadis, tell me, Sir, for you seem to know. A young Knight whom I greatly esteem, replied Amadis, told me all I know; King Arban of North Wales: he was there four days, but could accomplish none of the adventures, and so departed with shame. The Damsel then related the history of the enchantments, which greatly incited Galaor and Florestan to the proof.

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