We {059}now return to Jaufry, who still wanders on, resolving not to
stay for food or sleep before he meets with Taulat; for in his ears
incessantly do ring the biting words of Quex: “_Your courage will be
higher when you're drunk,_”--and he yet trusts to prove that lord did
lie by beating Taulat fasting. Onward he therefore pricked till midnight
hour, when he attained a narrow and dark gorge shut in on either side by
mountains high. No other passage was there but this one. Sir Jaufry gave
his horse the spur; when, at the very mouth of the defile, before him
stood a yeoman, active, of stout build and large of limb, who held
within his grasp three pointed darts that were as razors {060}sharp. A
large knife pended from his girdle, which enclosed an outer garment of
good form and fashion.
“Halt, knight,” he cried; “I'll have a word with thee.”
[Illustration: 084]
Jaufry drew rein, and said:
“And what's thy quest, good friend?”
“Thou must give up thy horse and knightly arms; for upon such condition
only mayst thou pass.”
“Indeed,” quoth Jaufry; “dost thou mean to say an armed and mounted
knight must not pass through this strait?”
“He might do so, but for the toll I've levied.”
“To the foul fiend such toll! Never will I give up my horse or arms,
till strength's denied me to defend them both.”
“An that thou yield'st them not with gentle grace,” the yeoman said, “I
must use force to take them.”
“And wherefore so? what harm have I e'er wrought thee?'
“Dost thou not wish to pass this gorge, and bilk the toll that's due
save I use force to get it?”
“And what's the force thou'lt use?”
“That {061}thou shalt briefly see; meantime I bid thee 'ware my hand!”
“I will do so,” quoth Jaufry.
The yeoman now prepared himself for fight, and seized his dart as though
in act to strike; but Jaufry, fearing for his horse, awaited not the
blow, but gal-loped off amain. As o'er the road he sped, the man let
fly the missile with just aim; it hit the shield, and that with force
so great, red fire and flame forth issued at the stroke, which did not
pierce it through. The sharpened point curled upwards on the steel, and
the wood flew in shivers.
Sir Jaufry turned his steed at once and bore down on his foe, counting
full surely that the fight was done; but, lo, at that instant he had
leapt aside, and in the act discharged a second dart, which lighted on
his helm; so fierce the stroke, the casque seemed all on fire; yet it
resisted, though its lord was stunned.
The yeoman, seeing his second blow had failed, was as a man possessed;
so dread his rage as neither to have hurt the knight or broken his
bright arms. Jaufry, whose senses had now back returned, thought only of
his horse, which he rode here and there to guard it from the blow of the
third dart. Not this, however, was his foe's {062}intent, for he still
thought to take the beast alive; like lightning swift he came, and
whirling round the dart, launched the fell weapon with these haughty
words:
“By Heaven, slave, thou now shalt leave the horse, nor shall thy
hauberk, helm, or shield protect thyself!” Jaufry wheeled round his
horse at this stem threat; and as the dart came hissing to its prey, he
deftly bowed him down; it harmed him not, but striking on his mail, tore
from the goodly arms a palm away, then bounded out of view.
“And now,” cried Jaufry, the third dart being flung, “my lance's point
shall give me my revenge.” With lowered lance he flew towards the man,
trusting this time to pierce him through and through; but he was nimble
as a roe or deer, and leapt from place to place to such effect, that
Jaufry missed his aim; and as he passed, the yeoman seized a rock and
hurled it at the knight, who, but for his shield, must fain have bit the
ground. The mass in atoms flew; but such the force with which the blow
was struck, it battered-in the shield. Jaufry, enraged at following such
a foe, now doubly maddened at this fresh attack, in wrath exclaimed:
“God, {063}thou all-glorious King! how shall I meet this fiend? The
world I'll hold not at a denier's price till he doth sue for grace!”
Then wielding his long lance,--
“This time,” he loudly to the yeoman cried, “or thou or I shall fall.”
The yeoman from his girdle plucked his knife, and made reply:
“Ere that thou leave this spot thou'lt pay the toll!”
“Ay, that will I,” quoth Jaufry, “take my promise on't; before we part,
thou shalt have toll enough!”
He once again renewed a brisk attack, but still the other dodged; and
ere that Jaufry could draw-in the rein, with mighty spring upon the
horse he leapt and round Sir Jaufry's body twined his arms.
“Stir not, sir knight,” he cried, “unless thou wish for death.”
When Jaufry felt himself thus rudely seized, his mind was in a maze, and
for a time incapable of thought. The yeoman held him with such strait
embrace he could not stir a limb, while in his ear he hissed his future
fate: how that a prison should his {060}body hold, where tortures,
griefs, unheard-of pains, should vex him evermore. Till break of day his
arms were round him clasped; but when the stars were gone, then Jaufry
communed with himself and said:
“Better to die for God, who made this earth, than let my body be a
dungeon's prey. We'll see what can be done.”
Reflecting thus, he let his lance drop down, and as the yeoman's
right arm pressed him most with energy he clutched it in his grasp; so
vigorous the attack, so nerved his strength, he forced the hand to loose
the gleaming knife: then, when he saw the arm was paralysed and drooped
inertly down, he fixed with both hands on the yeoman's left, which he
then twisted till he caused such pain, its owner reeled in groaning to
the ground. Dismounting from his horse, Jaufry drew near his foe, who
lay quite motionless crying for mercy in his agony.
“By Heaven! which I adore,” quoth Jaufry, “ne'er will I pity show to
wretch like thee.”
And at the words he cut off both his feet.
“I prithee, now,” he said, “run not, nor leap, nor battle more with
knights. Take to another trade; for far too long hath this one been thy
choice.”
He {065}gathered up his lance and shield, and, mounting on his horse,
prepared him quietly to go his way.
'Twas on a Tuesday, early in the morn, that Jaufry held this speech; but
as he turned him from his footless foe,--
“I have not yet inquired,” he observed, “if thou perchance hold'st
knights within thy walls?”
“My lord,” the man replied, “full five-and-twenty are there held in
chains beyond the mount where stands my dwelling-place.”
“O, O!” said Jaufry, “these I must set free; it likes me not that thou
shouldst guard such prize.” Without delay he hied him to the house,
whose massive portals were thrown open wide; and to a dwarf who stood
before the gates he cried:
“Where lie the imprison'd knights?”
Replied the dwarf:
“Methinks you're all too rash to venture here. 'Tis more indeed than
rashness,--downright folly. You wake my pity; therefore take advice, and
get you gone before my lord returns, save that you covet an inglorious
death, or torments even worse.”
Jaufry with smiles replied:
“Nay, {066}friend, I want the knights; quickly lead on, that I may break
their chains.”
“An I mistake not, you will join their ranks ere you deliver them; and
I must hold you as a fool distraught, not to have hied you hence; for
should my lord chance meet you by the way, deeply you'll grieve that
e'er you ventured here.”
“Thy lord will ne'er return; I have deprived him of his nimble feet,
and near his end he lies. The knights shall now be free, and thou, my
prisoner, their place shalt take, save that thou goest where my bidding
sends; then peradventure brief shall be thy thrall.”
“Sir knight,” the dwarf replied, “since, then, my lord is thus so poorly
sped, I, by my faith, will follow your commands, and from great pain
will draw those suffering knights, whose language is but moans; this
featly will I do, who by constraint and fear was here detained. Truly,
to God and you we should give thanks, and joyfully obey what you
ordain.”
“First, then,” said Jaufry, “lead me to the knights.”
The dwarf most gladly acted as his guide; and pacing on before, conveyed
him to a hall where five-and-twenty knights were rudely chained, as each
by turns {067}had been the yeoman's prey. Jaufry on entering made them a
salute, to which not one replied; nay, they began to weep, and mutter in
their teeth:
“Accurs'd the day that yeoman was e'er born, who thus hath overcome so
good a knight!”
But Jaufry, as he gaily drew him nigh:
“Why weep, fair knights?” he said, with courtesy. “Go, madman, go,” did
one of them reply; “for sure thy senses must have left thee quite, to
ask us why we weep, when walls like these rise up on ev'ry side. There
is not one of us who doth not grieve to see the yeoman's prisoner in
thee. Unhappy was the day that saw thy birth. In person thou art tall
and fair to view, yet soon like ours will torments be thy lot.” Quoth
Jaufry, “Great is God; easy to Him can your deliverance be. Through Him
my sword hath 'venged you on your foe, and now the yeoman lies deprived
of feet. If, then, you see me in this weary spot, 'tis but to break your
chains.”
Scarce had the words escaped from out his mouth, when loudly did they
call:
“Happy the day which dawned upon thy birth; for thou hast saved us all,
and swept our pain and martyrdom away!”
Then {068}Jaufry bade the dwarf set free the knights; the manikin
obeyed, and with a hammer broke in bits their chains. They all arose,
and bowed their heads in token of submission, whilst they said:
“Lord, we are thy serfs; do with us as thou please, be it for good or
evil, as is fit.”
“Good knights,” Sir Jaufry said, “whate'er of evil may henceforth betide
you, none shall come from me. All that I ask of you is simply this, that
ye betake you to King Arthur's court, and tell him all you know.”
“My lord,” they all exclaimed, “full willingly shall thy behest be done;
but to the service rendered, add one more by telling us thy name.”
“Barons,” said Jaufry then, “tell him the son of Dovon burst your
chains. Now quickly set ye out; and, mark, my friendship ne'er shall be
bestowed, if that ye fail to tell the king each word.”
The dwarf meanwhile had gone to seek the arms and fetch the steeds to
furnish forth the knights. Each donned his hauberk, mounted his good
horse, and then with Jaufry parted from that spot. He led them to the
great highway, and in their company rode full a league. In passing by,
he pointed to the place where, cold and motionless, the yeoman lay: they
stayed an instant {069}to observe their foe, then went upon their road.
A little further Jaufry got him down, and tightened more his goodly
charger's girths; then, his impatience to fall in with Taulat reviving
in full force:
“God speed you, sirs,” he said; “I can delay no more; already have I
wasted too much time.”
“My lord,” replied the knights, as they presented him his shield and
lance, “accept again our thanks: where'er we be, the service thou hast
done in this great fight shall widely be proclaimed.”
When that the band had watched him out of sight, they went their way
until they reached Carlisle. They found King Arthur in his flowery mead
with five-and-twenty of his primest knights. There, kneeling at
his feet, one of the troop was spokesman for the rest; and thus he
fearlessly and sagely said:
“Sire, so please it the true God, who knoweth all that every creature
doth, give you good luck, and guard from pain and ill the greatest king
this world doth now contain!”
“Friend,” the good king replied, “God and St. Mary keep thee and thy
mates! Speak without fear, and tell me what thou wilt.”
“Sire, {070}we come to yield ourselves to thee, from Jaufry, Dovon's
son; he hath delivered us from durance vile.”
“Good sir, give me at once your tidings. Is't long since you and he have
parted company?”
“We left him, sire, on Tuesday morning last, both safe and sound, ardent
and full of strength, tracking a lord with whom he seeks to fight, and
to avenge thy cause.”
“O Lord, thou glorious Sire,” said the king, with joined hands, “grant
I may Jaufry see unchecked, unscathed; for, an I hold him not within six
months, I'll prize my fortunes as of nothing worth!”
Whilst that the dwarf in turn begins his speech, to tell the king how
this adventure happed, we will go back to follow Jaufry's steps, who
still, unwearied, presses stoutly on.