HUON, having traversed the Apennines and Italy, arrived at the

environs of Rome, where, laying aside his armor, he assumed the

dress of a pilgrim. In this attire he presented himself before the

Pope, and not till after he had made a full confession of his sins

did he announce himself as his nephew. "Ah! my dear nephew,"

exclaimed the Holy Father, "what harder penance could I impose

than the Emperor has already done? Go in peace, my son," he added,

absolving him, "I go to intercede for you with the Most High."

Then he led his nephew into his palace, and introduced him to all

the Cardinals and Princes of Rome as the Duke of Guienne, son of

the Duchess Alice, his sister.

Huon, at setting out, had made a vow not to stop more than three

days in a place. The Holy Father took advantage of this time to

inspire him with zeal for the glory of Christianity, and with

confidence in the protection of the Most High. He advised him to

embark for Palestine, to visit the Holy Sepulchre, and to depart

thence for the interior of Asia.

Loaded with the blessings of the Holy Father, Huon, obeying his

counsels, embarked for Palestine, arrived, and visited with the

greatest reverence the holy places. He then departed, and took his

way toward the east.

But, ignorant of the country and of the language, he lost himself

in a forest, and remained three days without seeing a human

creature, living on honey and wild fruits which he found on the

trees. The third day, seeking a passage through a rocky defile, he

beheld a man in tattered clothing, whose beard and hair covered

his breast and shoulders. This man stopped on seeing him, observed

him, and recognized the arms and bearing of a French knight. He

immediately approached, and exclaimed, in the language of the

South of France, "God be praised! Do I indeed behold a chevalier

of my own country, after fifteen years passed in this desert

without seeing the face of a fellow-countryman?"

Huon, to gratify him still more, unlaced his helmet, and came

towards him with a smiling countenance. The other regarded him

with more surprise than at first. "Good Heaven!" he exclaimed,

"was there ever such a resemblance? Ah, noble sir," he added,

"tell me, I beseech you, of what country and race you come?" "I

require," replied Huon, "before telling you mine, that you first

reveal your own; let it suffice you at present to know that I am a

Christian, and that in Guienne I was born." "Ah! Heaven grant that

my eyes and my heart do not deceive me," exclaimed the unknown;

"my name is Sherasmin; I am brother to Guire, the Mayor of

Bordeaux. I was taken prisoner in the battle where my dear and

illustrious master, Sevinus, lost his life. For three years I

endured the miseries of slavery; at length I broke my chains and

escaped to this desert, where I have sustained myself in solitude

ever since. Your features recall to me my beloved sovereign, in

whose service I was from my infancy till his death." Huon made no

reply but by embracing the old man, with tears in his eyes. Then

Sherasmin learned that his arms enfolded the son of the Duke

Sevinus. He led him to his cabin, and spread before him the dry

fruits and honey which formed his only aliment.

Huon recounted his adventures to Sherasmin, who was moved to tears

at the recital. He then consulted him on means of conducting his

enterprise. Sherasmin hesitated not to confess that success seemed

impossible; nevertheless he swore a solemn oath never to abandon

him. The Saracen language, which he was master of, would be

serviceable to them when they should leave the desert, and mingle

with men.

They took the route of the Red Sea, and entered Arabia. Their way

lay through a region which Sherasmin described as full of terrors.

It was inhabited by Oberon, King of the Fairies, who made captive

such knights as were rash enough to penetrate into it, and

transformed them into Hobgoblins. It was possible to avoid this

district at the expense of somewhat lengthening their route; but

no dangers could deter Huon of Bordeaux; and the brave Sherasmin,

who had now resumed the armor of a knight, reluctantly consented

to share with him the dangers of the shorter route.

They entered a wood, and arrived at a spot whence alleys branched

off in various directions. One of them seemed to be terminated by

a superb palace, whose gilded roofs were adorned with brilliant

weathercocks covered with diamonds. A superb chariot issued from

the gate of the palace, and drove toward Huon and his companion,

as if to meet them half-way. The prince saw no one in the chariot

but a child apparently about five years old, very beautiful, and

clad in a robe which glittered with precious stones. At the sight

of him, Sherasmin's terror was extreme. He seized the reins of

Huon's horse, and turned him about, hurrying the prince away, and

assuring him that they were lost if they stopped to parley with

the mischievous dwarf, who, though he appeared a child, was full

of years and of treachery. Huon was sorry to lose sight of the

beautiful dwarf, whose aspect had nothing in it to alarm; yet he

followed his friend, who urged on his horse with all possible

speed. Presently a storm began to roar through the forest, the

daylight grew dim, and they found their way with difficulty. From

time to time they seemed to hear an infantine voice, which said,

"Stop, Duke Huon; listen to me: it is in vain you fly me!"

Sherasmin only fled the faster, and stopped not until he had

reached the gate of a monastery of monks and nuns, the two

communities of which were assembled at that time in a religious

procession. Sherasmin, feeling safe from the malice of the dwarf

in the presence of so many holy persons and the sacred banners,

stopped to ask an asylum, and made Huon dismount also. But at that

moment they were joined by the dwarf, who blew a blast upon an

ivory horn which hung from his neck. Immediately the good

Sherasmin, in spite of himself, began to dance like a young

collegian, and seizing the hand of an aged nun, who felt as if it

would be her death, they footed it briskly over the grass, and

were imitated by all the other monks and nuns, mingled together,

forming the strangest dancing-party ever beheld. Huron alone felt

no disposition to dance; but he came near dying of laughter at

seeing the ridiculous postures and leaps of the others.

The dwarf, approaching Huon, said, in a sweet voice, and in Huon's

own language, "Duke of Guienne, why do you shun me? I conjure you,

in Heaven's name, speak to me." Huon, hearing himself addressed in

this serious manner, and knowing that no evil spirit would dare to

use the holy name in aid of his schemes, replied, "Sir, whoever

you are, I am ready to hear and answer you." "Huon, my friend,"

continued the dwarf, "I always loved your race, and you have been

dear to me ever since your birth. The gracious state of conscience

in which you were when you entered my wood has protected you from

all enchantments, even if I had intended to practise any upon you.

If these monks, these nuns, and even your friend Sherasmin, had

had a conscience as pure as yours, my horn would not have set them

dancing; but where is the monk or the nun who can always be deaf

to the voice of the tempter, and Sherasmin in the desert has often

doubted the power of Providence."

At these words Huon saw the dancers overcome with exertion. He

begged mercy for them, the dwarf granted it, and the effect of the

horn ceased at once; the nuns got rid of their partners, smoothed

their dresses, and hastened to resume their places in the

procession. Sherasmin, overcome with heat, panting, and unable to

stand on his legs, threw himself upon the grass, and began, "Did

not I tell you"--He was going on in an angry tone, but the dwarf,

approaching, said, "Sherasmin, why have you murmured against

Providence? Why have you thought evil of me? You deserved this

light punishment; but I know you to be good and loyal; I mean to

show myself your friend, as you shall soon see." At these words he

presented him a rich goblet. "Make the sign of the cross on this

cup," said he, "and then believe that I hold my power from the God

you adore, whose faithful servant I am, as well as you." Sherasmin

obeyed, and on the instant the cup was filled with delicious wine,

a draught of which restored vigor to his limbs, and made him feel

young again. Overcome with gratitude, he threw himself on his

knees, but the dwarf raised him, and bade him sit beside him, and

thus commenced his history:

"Julius Caesar, going by sea to join his army, was driven by a

storm to take shelter in the island of Celea, where dwelt the

fairy Glorianda. From this renowned pair I draw my birth. I am the

inheritor of that which was most admirable in each of my parents:

my father's heroic qualities, and my mother's beauty and magic

art. But a malicious sister of my mother's, in revenge for some

slight offence, touched me with her wand when I was only five

years old, and forbade me to grow any bigger; and my mother, with

all her power, was unable to annul the sentence. I have thus

continued infantile in appearance, though full of years and

experience. The power which I derive from my mother I use

sometimes for my own diversion, but always to promote justice and

to reward virtue. I am able and willing to assist you, Duke of

Guienne, for I know the errand on which you come hither. I presage

for you, if you follow my counsels, complete success; and the

beautiful Clarimunda for a wife."

When he had thus spoken he presented to Huon the precious and

useful cup, which had the faculty of filling itself when a good

man took it in his hand. He gave him also his beautiful horn of

ivory, saying to him, "Huon, when you sound this gently, you will

make the hearers dance, as you have seen; but if you sound it

forcibly, fear not that I shall hear it, though at a hundred

leagues' distance, and will fly to your relief; but be careful not

to sound it in that way, unless upon the most urgent occasion."

Oberon directed Huon what course he should take to reach the

country of the Sultan Gaudisso. "You will encounter great perils,"

said he, "before arriving there, and I fear me," he added, with

tears in his eyes, "that you will not in everything obey my

directions, and in that case you will suffer much calamity." Then

he embraced Huon and Sherasmin, and left them.

Huon and his follower travelled many days through the desert

before they reached any inhabited place, and all this while the

wonderful cup sustained them, furnishing them not only wine, but

food also. At last they came to a great city. As day was

declining, they entered its suburbs, and Sherasmin, who spoke the

Saracen language perfectly, inquired for an inn where they could

pass the night. A person who appeared to be one of the principal

inhabitants, seeing two strangers of respectable appearance making

this inquiry, stepped forward and begged them to accept the

shelter of his mansion. They entered, and their host did the

honors of his abode with a politeness which they were astonished

to see in a Saracen. He had them served with coffee and sherbet,

and all was conducted with great decorum, till one of the servants

awkwardly overturned a cup of hot coffee on the host's legs, when

he started up, exclaiming in very good Gascon, "Blood and thunder!

you blockhead, you deserve to be thrown over the mosque!"

Huon could not help laughing to see the vivacity and the language

of his country thus break out unawares. The host, who had no idea

that his guests understood his words, was astonished when Huon

addressed him in the dialect of his country. Immediately

confidence was established between them; especially when the

domestics had retired. The host, seeing that he was discovered,

and that the two pretended Saracens were from the borders of the

Garonne, embraced them, and disclosed that he was a Christian.

Huon, who had learned prudence from the advice of Oberon, to test

his host's sincerity, drew from his robe the cup which the Fairy-

king had given him, and presented it empty to the host. "A fair

cup," said he, "but I should like it better if it was full."

Immediately it was so. The host, astonished, dared not put it to

his lips. "Drink boldly, my dear fellow-countryman," said Huon;

"your truth is proved by this cup, which only fills itself in the

hands of an honest man." The host did not hesitate longer; the cup

passed freely from hand to hand; their mutual cordiality increased

as it passed, and each recounted his adventures. Those of Huon

redoubled his host's respect; for he recognized in him his

legitimate sovereign: while the host's narrative was in these

words:

"My name is Floriac; this great and strong city, you will hear

with surprise and grief, is governed by a brother of Duke Sevinus,

and your uncle. You have no doubt heard that a young brother of

the Duke of Guienne was stolen away from the sea-shore, with his

companions, by some corsairs. I was then his page, and we were

carried by those corsairs to Barbary, where we were sold for

slaves. The Barbary prince sent us as part of the tribute which he

yearly paid to his sovereign, the Sultan Gaudisso. Your uncle, who

had been somewhat puffed up by the flattery of his attendants,

thought to increase his importance with his new master by telling

him his rank. The Sultan, who, like a true Mussulman, detested all

Christian princes, exerted himself from that moment to bring him

over to the Saracen faith. He succeeded but too well. Your uncle,

seduced by the arts of the Santons, and by the pleasures and

indulgences which the Sultan allowed him, committed the horrid

crime of apostasy; he renounced his baptism, and embraced

Mahometanism. Gaudisso then loaded him with honors, made him

espouse one of his nieces, and sent him to reign over this city

and adjoining country. Your uncle preserved for me the same

friendship which he had had when a boy; but all his caresses and

efforts could not make me renounce my faith. Perhaps he respected

me in his heart for my resistance to his persuasions, perhaps he

had hopes of inducing me in time to imitate him. He made me

accompany him to this city, of which he was master, he gave me his

confidence, and permits me to keep in my service some Christians,

whom I protect for the sake of their faith."

"Ah!" exclaimed Huon, "take me to this guilty uncle. A prince of

the house of Guienne, must he not blush at the cowardly

abandonment of the faith of his fathers?"

"Alas!" replied Floriac, "I fear he will neither be sensible of

shame at your reproaches, nor of pleasure at the sight of a nephew

so worthy of his lineage. Brutified by sensuality, jealous of his

power, which he often exercises with cruelty, he will more

probably restrain you by force or put you to death."

"Be it so," said the brave and fervent Huon, "I could not die in a

better cause; and I demand of you to conduct me to him to-morrow,

after having told him of my arrival and my birth." Floriac still

objected, but Huon would take no denial, and he promised

obedience.

Next morning Floriac waited upon the Governor and told him of the

arrival of his nephew, Huon of Bordeaux; and of the intention of

the prince to present himself at his court that very day. The

Governor, surprised, did not immediately answer; though he at once

made up his mind what to do. He knew that Floriac loved Christians

and the princes of his native land too well to aid in any treason

to one of them; he therefore feigned great pleasure at hearing of

the arrival of the eldest born of his family at his court. He

immediately sent Floriac to find him; he caused his palace to be

put in festal array, his divan to be assembled, and after giving

some secret orders, went himself to meet his nephew, whom he

introduced under his proper name and title to all the great

officers of his court.

Huon burned with indignation at seeing his uncle with forehead

encircled with a rich turban, surmounted with a crescent of

precious stones. His natural candor made him receive with pain the

embraces which the treacherous Governor lavished upon him.

Meanwhile the hope of finding a suitable moment to reproach him

for his apostasy made him submit to those honors which his uncle

caused to be rendered to him. The Governor evaded with address the

chance of being alone with Huon and spent all the morning in

taking him through his gardens and palace. At last, when the hour

of dinner approached, and the Governor took him by the hand to

lead him into the dining-hall, Huon seized the opportunity and

said to him in a low voice, "O my uncle! O Prince, brother of the

Duke Sevinus! in what condition have I the grief and shame of

seeing you!" The Governor pretended to be moved, pressed his hand,

and whispered in his ear, "Silence! my dear nephew; to-morrow

morning I will hear you fully."

Huon, comforted a little by these words, took his seat at the

table by the side of the Governor. The Mufti, some Cadis, Agas,

and Santons, filled the other places. Sherasmin sat down with

them; but Floriac, who would not lose sight of his guests,

remained standing, and passed in and out to observe what was going

on within the palace. He soon perceived a number of armed men

gliding through the passages and antechambers connected with the

dining-hall. He was about to enter to give his guests notice of

what he had seen when he heard a violent noise and commotion in

the hall. The cause was this.

Huon and Sherasmin were well enough suited with the first course

and ate with good appetite; but the people of their country not

being accustomed to drink only water at their meals, Huon and

Sherasmin looked at one another, not very well pleased at such a

regimen. Huon laughed outright at the impatience of Sherasmin, but

soon, experiencing the same want himself, he drew forth Oberon's

cup and made the sign of the cross. The cup filled and he drank it

off, and handed it to Sherasmin, who followed his example. The

Governor and his officers, seeing this abhorred sign, contracted

their brows and sat in silent consternation. Huon pretended not to

observe it, and having filled the cup again handed it to his

uncle, saying, "Pray, join us, dear uncle; it is excellent

Bordeaux wine, the drink that will be to you like mother's milk."

The Governor, who often drank in secret with his own favorite

Sultanas the wines of Greece and Shiraz, never in public drank

anything but water. He had not for a long time tasted the

excellent wines of his native land; he was sorely tempted to drink

what was now handed to him, it looked so bright in the cup,

outshining the gold itself. He stretched forth his hand, took the

brimming goblet, and raised it to his lips, when immediately it

dried up and disappeared. Huon and Sherasmin, like Gascons as they

were, laughed at his astonishment. "Christian dogs!" he exclaimed,

"do you dare to insult me at my own table? But I will soon be

revenged." At these words he threw the cup at the head of his

nephew, who caught it with his left hand, while with the other he

snatched the turban, with its crescent, from the Governor's head

and threw it on the floor. All the Saracens started up from table,

with loud outcries, and prepared to avenge the insult. Huon and

Sherasmin put themselves on their defence, and met with their

swords the scimitars directed against them. At this moment the

doors of the hall opened and a crowd of soldiers and armed eunuchs

rushed in, who joined in the attack upon Huon and Sherasmin. The

Prince and his followers took refuge on a broad shelf or side-

board, where they kept at bay the crowd of assailants, making the

most forward of them smart for their audacity. But more troops

came pressing in and the brave Huon, inspired by the wine of

Bordeaux, and not angry enough to lose his relish for a joke, blew

a gentle note on his horn, and no sooner was it heard than it

quelled the rage of the combatants and set them to dancing. Huon

and Sherasmin, no longer attacked, looked down from their elevated

position on a scene the most singular and amusing. Very soon the

Sultanas, hearing the sound of the dance and finding their guards

withdrawn, came into the hall and mixed with the dancers. The

favorite Sultana seized upon a young Santon, who performed jumps

two feet high; but soon the long dresses of this couple got

intermingled and threw them down. The Santon's beard was caught in

the Sultana's necklace, and they could not disentangle them. The

Governor by no means approved this familiarity, and took two steps

forward to get at the Santon, but he stumbled over a prostrate

Dervise and measured his length on the floor. The dancing

continued till the strength of the performers was exhausted, and

they fell, one after the other, and lay helpless. The Governor at

length made signs to Huon that he would yield everything if he

would but allow him to rest. The bargain was ratified; the

Governor allowed Huon and Sherasmin to depart on their way, and

even gave them a ring which would procure them safe passage

through his country and access to the Sultan Gaudisso. The two

friends hastened to avail themselves of this favorable turn, and

taking leave of Floriac, pursued their journey.

HUON OF BORDEAUX (Continued)

HUON had seen many beauties at his mother's court, but his heart

had never been touched with love. Honor had been his mistress, and

in pursuit of that he had never found time to give a thought to

softer cares. Strange that a heart so insensible should first be

touched by something so unsubstantial as a dream; but so it was.

The day after the adventure with his uncle night overtook the

travellers as they passed through a forest. A grotto offered them

shelter from the night dews. The magic cup supplied their evening

meal; for such was its virtue that it afforded not only wine, but

more solid fare when desired. Fatigue soon threw them into

profound repose. Lulled by the murmur of the foliage, and

breathing the fragrance of the flowers, Huon dreamed that a lady

more beautiful than he had ever before seen hung over him and

imprinted a kiss upon his lips. As he stretched out his arms to

embrace her a sudden gust of wind swept her away.

Huon awoke in an agony of regret. A few moments sufficed to afford

some consolation in showing him that what had passed was but a

dream; but his perplexity and sadness could not escape the notice

of Sherasmin. Huon hesitated not to inform his faithful follower

of the reason of his pensiveness; and got nothing in return but

his rallyings for allowing himself to be disturbed by such a

cause. He recommended a draught from the fairy goblet, and Huon

tried it with good effect.

At early dawn they resumed their way. They travelled till high

noon, but said little to one another. Huon was musing on his

dream, and Sherasmin's thoughts flew back to his early days on the

banks of the flowery Garonne.

On a sudden they were startled by the cry of distress, and turning

an angle of the wood, came where a knight hard pressed was

fighting with a furious lion. The knight's horse lay dead, and it

seemed as if another moment would end the combat, for terror and

fatigue had quite disabled the knight for further resistance. He

fell, and the lion's paw was raised over him, when a blow from

Huon's sword turned the monster's rage upon a new enemy. His roar

shook the forest, and he crouched in act to spring, when, with the

rapidity of lightning, Huon plunged his sword into his side. He

rolled over on the plain in the agonies of death.

They raised the knight from the ground, and Sherasmin hastened to

offer him a draught from the fairy cup. The wine sparkled to the

brim, and the warrior put forth his lips to quaff it, but it

shrunk away, and did not even wet his lips. He dashed the goblet

angrily on the ground, with an exclamation of resentment. This

incident did not tend to make either party more acceptable to the

other; and what followed was worse. For when Huon said, "Sir

knight, thank God for your deliverance,"--"Thank Mahomet, rather,

yourself," said he, "for he has led you this day to render service

to no less a personage than the Prince of Hyrcania."

At the sound of this blasphemy Huon drew his sword and turned upon

the miscreant, who, little disposed to encounter the prowess of

which he had so lately seen proof, betook himself to flight. He

ran to Huon's horse, and lightly vaulting on his back, clapped

spurs to his side, and galloped out of sight.

The adventure was vexatious, yet there was no remedy. The prince

and Sherasmin continued their journey with the aid of the

remaining horse as they best might. At length, as evening set in,

they descried the pinnacles and towers of a great city full before

them, which they knew to be the famous city of Bagdad.

They were well-nigh exhausted with fatigue when they arrived at

its precincts, and in the darkness, not knowing what course to

take, were glad to meet an aged woman, who, in reply to their

inquiries, offered them such accommodations as her cottage could

supply. They thankfully accepted the offer, and entered the low

door. The good dame busily prepared the best fare her stores

supplied,--milk, figs, and peaches,--deeply regretting that the

bleak winds had nipped her almond-trees.

Sir Huon thought he had never in his life tasted any fare so good.

The old lady talked while her guests ate. She doubted not, she

said, they had come to be present at the great feast in honor of

the marriage of the Sultan's daughter, which was to take place on

the morrow. They asked who the bridegroom was to be, and the old

lady answered, "The Prince of Hyrcania," but added, "Our princess

hates him, and would rather wed a dragon than him." "How know you

that?" asked Huon; and the dame informed him that she had it from

the princess herself, who was her foster-child. Huon inquired the

reason of the princess's aversion; and the woman pleased to find

her chat excite so much interest, replied that it was all in

consequence of a dream. "A dream!" exclaimed Huon. "Yes! a dream.

She dreamed that she was a hind, and that the Prince, as a hunter,

was pursuing her, and had almost overtaken her, when a beautiful

dwarf appeared in view, drawn in a golden car, having by his side

a young man of yellow hair and fair complexion, like one from a

foreign land. She dreamed that the car stopped where she stood,

and that, having resumed her own form, she was about to ascend it,

when suddenly it faded from her view, and with it the dwarf and

the fair-haired youth. But from her heart that vision did not

fade, and from that time her affianced bridegroom, the Hyrcanian

prince, had become odious to her sight. Yet the Sultan, her

father, by no means regarding such a cause as sufficient to

prevent the marriage, had named the morrow as the time when it

should be solemnized, in presence of his court and many princes of

the neighboring countries, whom the fame of the princess's beauty

and the bridegroom's splendor had brought to the scene."

We may suppose this conversation woke a tumult of thoughts in the

breast of Huon. Was it not clear that Providence led him on, and

cleared the way for his happy success? Sleep did not early visit

the eyes of Huon that night; but, with the sanguine temper of

youth, he indulged his fancy in imagining the sequel of his

strange experience.

The next day, which he could not but regard as the decisive day of

his fate, he prepared to deliver the message of Charlemagne. Clad

in his armor, fortified with his ivory horn and his ring, he

reached the palace of Gaudisso when the guests were assembled at

the banquet. As he approached the gate a voice called on all true

believers to enter; and Huon, the brave and faithful Huon, in his

impatience passed in under that false pretention. He had no sooner

passed the barrier than he felt ashamed of his baseness, and was

overwhelmed with regret. To make amends for his fault he ran

forward to the second gate, and cried to the porter, "Dog of a

misbeliever, I command you in the name of Him who died on the

cross, open to me!" The points of a hundred weapons immediately

opposed his passage. Huon then remembered for the first time the

ring he had received from his uncle, the Governor. He produced it,

and demanded to be led to the Sultan's presence. The officer of

the guard recognized the ring, made a respectful obeisance, and

allowed him free entrance. In the same way he passed the other

doors to the rich saloon where the great Sultan was at dinner with

his tributary princes. At sight of the ring the chief attendant

led Huon to the head of the hall, and introduced him to the Sultan

and his princes as the ambassador of Charlemagne. A seat was

provided for him near the royal party.

The Prince of Hyrcania, the same whom Huon had rescued from the

lion, and who was the destined bridegroom of the beautiful

Clarimunda, sat on the Sultan's right hand, and the princess

herself on his left. It chanced that Huon found himself near the

seat of the princess, and hardly were the ceremonies of reception

over before he made haste to fulfill the commands of Charlemagne

by imprinting a kiss upon her rosy lips, and after that a second,

not by command, but by good will. The Prince of Hyrcania cried

out, "Audacious infidel! take the reward of thy insolence!" and

aimed a blow at Huon, which, if it had reached him, would have

brought his embassy to a speedy termination. But the ingrate

failed of his aim, and Huon punished his blasphemy and ingratitude

at once by a blow which severed his head from his body.

So suddenly had all this happened that no hand had been raised to

arrest it; but now Gaudisso cried out, "Seize the murderer!" Huon

was hemmed in on all sides, but his redoubtable sword kept the

crowd of courtiers at bay. But he saw new combatants enter, and

could not hope to maintain his ground against so many. He

recollected his horn, and raising it to his lips, blew a blast

almost as loud as that of Roland at Roncesvalles. It was in vain.

Oberon heard it; but the sin of which Huon had been guilty in

bearing, though but for a moment, the character of a believer in

the false prophet, had put it out of Oberon's power to help him.

Huon, finding himself deserted, and conscious of the cause, lost

his strength and energy, was seized, loaded with chains, and

plunged into a dungeon.

His life was spared for the time, merely that he might be reserved

for a more painful death. The Sultan meant that, after being made

to feel all the torments of hunger and despair, he should be

flayed alive.

But an enchanter more ancient and more powerful than Oberon

himself interested himself for the brave Huon. The enchanter was

Love. The Princess Clarimunda learned with horror the fate to

which the young prince was destined. By the aid of her governante

she gained over the keeper of the prison, and went herself to

lighten the chains of her beloved. It was her hand that removed

his fetters, from her he received supplies of food to sustain a

life which he devoted from thenceforth wholly to her. After the

most tender explanations the princess departed, promising to

repeat her visit on the morrow.

The next day she came according to promise, and again brought

supplies of food. These visits were continued during a whole

month. Huon was too good a son of the Church to forget that the

amiable princess was a Saracen, and he availed himself of these

interviews to instruct her in the true faith. How easy it is to

believe the truth when uttered by the lips of those we love!

Clarimunda ere long professed her entire belief in the Christian

doctrines, and desired to be baptized.

Meanwhile the Sultan had repeatedly inquired of the jailer how his

prisoner bore the pains of famine, and learned to his surprise

that he was not yet much reduced thereby. On his repeating the

inquiry, after a short interval, the keeper replied that the

prisoner had died suddenly, and had been buried in the cavern. The

Sultan could only regret that he had not sooner ordered the

execution of the sentence.

While these things were going on the faithful Sherasmin, who had

not accompanied Huon in his last adventure, but had learned by

common rumor the result of it, came to the court in hopes of doing

something for the rescue of his master. He presented himself to

the Sultan as Solario, his nephew. Guadisso received him with

kindness, and all the courtiers loaded him with attentions. He

soon found means to inform himself how the Princess regarded the

brave but unfortunate Huon, and having made himself known to her,

confidence was soon established between them. Clarimunda readily

consented to assist in the escape of Huon, and to quit with him

her father's court to repair to that of Charlemagne. Their united

efforts had nearly perfected their arrangement, a vessel was

secretly prepared, and all things in forwardness for the flight,

when an unlooked-for obstacle presented itself. Huon himself

positively refused to go leaving the orders of Charlemagne

unexecuted.

Sherasmin was in despair. Bitterly he complained of the fickleness

and cruelty of Oberon in withdrawing his aid at the very crisis

when it was most necessary. Earnestly he urged every argument to

satisfy the prince that he had done enough for honor, and could

not be held bound to achieve impossibilities. But all was of no

avail, and he knew not which way to turn, when one of those events

occurred which are so frequent under Turkish despotisms. A courier

arrived at the court of the Sultan, bearing the ring of his

sovereign, the mighty Agrapard, Caliph of Arabia, and bringing the

bow-string for the neck of Gaudisso. No reason was assigned; none

but the pleasure of the Caliph is ever required in such cases; but

it was suspected that the bearer of the bow-string had persuaded

the Caliph that Gaudisso, whose rapacity was well known, had

accumulated immense treasures, which he had not duly shared with

his sovereign, and thus had obtained an order to supersede him in

his Emirship.

The body of Gaudisso would have been cast out a prey to dogs and

vultures, had not Sherasmin, under the character of nephew of the

deceased, been permitted to receive it, and give it decent burial,

which he did, but not till he had taken possession of the beard

and grinders, agreeably to the orders of Charlemagne.

No obstacle now stood in the way of the lovers and their faithful

follower in returning to France. They sailed, taking Rome in their

way, where the Holy Father himself blessed the union of his

nephew, Duke Huon of Bordeaux, with the Princess Clarimunda.

Soon afterward they arrived in France, where Huon laid his

trophies at the feet of Charlemagne, and, being restored to the

favor of the Emperor, hastened to present himself and his bride to

the Duchess, his mother, and to the faithful liegemen of his

province of Guienne and his city of Bordeaux, where the pair were

received with transports of joy.

OGIER, THE DANE

OGIER, the Dane, was the son of Geoffrey, who wrested Denmark from

the Pagans, and reigned the first Christian king of that country.

When Ogier was born, and before he was baptized, six ladies of

ravishing beauty appeared all at once in the chamber of the

infant. They encircled him, and she who appeared the eldest took

him in her arms, kissed him, and laid her hand upon his heart. "I

give you," said she, "to be the bravest warrior of your times."

She delivered the infant to her sister, who said, "I give you

abundant opportunities to display your valor." "Sister," said the

third lady, "you have given him a dangerous boon; I give him that

he shall never be vanquished." The fourth sister added, as she

laid her hand upon his eyes and his mouth, "I give you the gift of

pleasing." The fifth said, "Lest all these gifts serve only to

betray, I give you sensibility to return the love you inspire."

Then spoke Morgana, the youngest and handsomest of the group.

"Charming creature, I claim you for my own; and I give you not to

die till you shall have come to pay me a visit in my isle of

Avalon." Then she kissed the child and departed with her sisters.

After this the king had the child carried to the font and baptized

with the name of Ogier.

In his education nothing was neglected to elevate him to the

standard of a perfect knight, and render him accomplished in all

the arts necessary to make him a hero.

He had hardly reached the age of sixteen years when Charlemagne,

whose power was established over all the sovereigns of his time,

recollected that Geoffroy, Ogier's father, had omitted to render

the homage due to him as Emperor, and sovereign lord of Denmark,

one of the grand fiefs of the empire. He accordingly sent an

embassy to demand of the king of Denmark this homage, and on

receiving a refusal, couched in haughty terms, sent an army to

enforce the demand. Geoffroy, after an unsuccessful resistance,

was forced to comply, and as a pledge of his sincerity delivered

Ogier, his eldest son, a hostage to Charles, to be brought up at

his court. He was placed in charge of the Duke Namo of Bavaria,

the friend of his father, who treated him like his own son.

Ogier grew up more and more handsome and amiable every day. He

surpassed in form, strength, and address all the noble youths his

companions; he failed not to be present at all tourneys; he was

attentive to the elder knights, and burned with impatience to

imitate them. Yet his heart rose sometimes in secret against his

condition as a hostage, and as one apparently forgotten by his

father.

The King of Denmark, in fact, was at this time occupied with new

loves. Ogier's mother having died, he had married a second wife,

and had a son named Guyon. The new queen had absolute power over

her husband, and fearing that, if he should see Ogier again, he

would give him the preference over Guyon, she had adroitly

persuaded him to delay rendering his homage to Charlemagne, till

now four years had passed away since the last renewal of that

ceremony. Charlemagne, irritated at this delinquency, drew closer

the bonds of Ogier's captivity until he should receive a response

from the king of Denmark to a fresh summons which he caused to be

sent to him.

The answer of Geoffroy was insulting and defiant, and the rage of

Charlemagne was roused in the highest degree. He was at first

disposed to wreak his vengeance upon Ogier, his hostage; but at

the entreaties of Duke Namo, who felt towards his pupil like a

father, consented to spare his life, if Ogier would swear fidelity

to him as his liege-lord, and promise not to quit his court

without his permission. Ogier accepted these terms, and was

allowed to retain all the freedom he had before enjoyed.

The Emperor would have immediately taken arms to reduce his

disobedient vassal, if he had not been called off in another

direction by a message from Pope Leo, imploring his assistance.

The Saracens had landed in the neighborhood of Rome, occupied

Mount Janiculum, and prepared to pass the Tiber and carry fire and

sword to the capital of the Christian world. Charlemagne hesitated

not to yield to the entreaties of the Pope. He speedily assembled

an army, crossed the Alps, traversed Italy, and arrived at

Spoleto, a strong place to which the Pope had retired. Leo, at the

head of his Cardinals, advanced to meet him, and rendered him

homage, as to the son of Pepin, the illustrious protector of the

Holy See, coming, as his father had done, to defend it in the hour

of need.

Charlemagne stopped but two days at Spoleto, and learning that the

Infidels, having rendered themselves masters of Rome, were

besieging the Capitol, which could not long hold out against them,

marched promptly to attack them.

The advanced posts of the army were commanded by Duke Namo, on

whom Ogier waited as his squire. He did not yet bear arms, not

having received the order of knighthood. The Oriflamme, the royal

standard, was borne by a knight named Alory, who showed himself

unworthy of the honor.

Duke Namo, seeing a strong body of the Infidels advancing to

attack him, gave the word to charge them. Ogier remained in the

rear, with the other youths, grieving much that he was not

permitted to fight. Very soon he saw Alory lower the Oriflamme,

and turn his horse in flight. Ogier pointed him out to the young

men, and seizing a club, rushed upon Alory and struck him from his

horse. Then, with his companions, he disarmed him, clothed himself

in his armor, raised the Oriflamme, and mounting the horse of the

unworthy knight, flew to the front rank, where he joined Duke

Namo, drove back the Infidels, and carried the Oriflamme quite

through their broken ranks. The Duke, thinking it was Alory, whom

he had not held in high esteem, was astonished at his strength and

valor. Ogier's young companions imitated him, supplying themselves

with armor from the bodies of the slain; they followed Ogier and

carried death into the ranks of the Saracens, who fell back in

confusion upon their main body.

Duke Namo now ordered a retreat, and Ogier obeyed with reluctance,

when they perceived Charlemagne advancing to their assistance. The

combat now became general, and was more terrible than ever.

Charlemagne had overthrown Corsuble, the commander of the

Saracens, and had drawn his famous sword, Joyeuse, to cut off his

head, when two Saracen knights set upon him at once, one of whom

slew his horse, and the other overthrew the Emperor on the sand.

Perceiving by the eagle on his casque who he was, they dismounted

in haste to give him his deathblow. Never was the life of the

Emperor in such peril. But Ogier, who saw him fall, flew to his

rescue. Though embarrassed with the Oriflamme, he pushed his horse

against one of the Saracens and knocked him down; and with his

sword dealt the other so vigorous a blow that he fell stunned to

the earth. Then helping the Emperor to rise, he remounted him on

the horse of one of the fallen knights. "Brave and generous

Alory!" Charles exclaimed, "I owe to you my honor and my life!"

Ogier made no answer; but, leaving Charlemagne surrounded by a

great many of the knights who had flown to his succor, he plunged

into the thickest ranks of the enemy, and carried the Oriflamme,

followed by a gallant train of youthful warriors, till the

standard of Mahomet turned in retreat, and the Infidels sought

safety in their intrenchments.

Then the good Archbishop Turpin laid aside his helmet and his

bloody sword (for he always felt that he was clearly in the line

of his duty while slaying Infidels), took his mitre and his

crosier, and intoned Te Deum.

At this moment Ogier, covered with blood and dust, came to lay the

Oriflamme at the feet of the Emperor. He was followed by a train

of warriors of short stature, who walked ill at ease loaded with

armor too heavy for them. Ogier knelt at the feet of Charlemagne,

who embraced him, calling him Alory, while Turpin from the height

of the altar, blessed him with all his might. Then young Orlando,

son of the Count Milone, and nephew of Charlemagne, no longer able

to endure this misapprehension, threw down his helmet, and ran to

unlace Ogier's, while the other young men laid aside theirs. Our

author says he cannot express the surprise, the admiration, and

the tenderness of the Emperor and his peers. Charles folded Ogier

in his arms, and the happy fathers of those brave youths embraced

them with tears of joy. The good Duke Namo stepped forward, and

Charlemagne yielded Ogier to his embrace. "How much do I owe you,"

he said, "good and wise friend, for having restrained my anger! My

dear Ogier! I owe you my life! My sword leaps to touch your

shoulder, yours and those of your brave young friends." At these

words he drew that famous sword, Joyeuse, and while Ogier and the

rest knelt before him, gave them the accolade conferring on them

the order of knighthood. The young Orlando and his cousin Oliver

could not refrain, even in the presence of the Emperor, from

falling upon Ogier's neck, and pledging with him that brotherhood

in arms, so dear and so sacred to the knights of old times; but

Charlot, the Emperor's son, at the sight of the glory with which

Ogier had covered himself, conceived the blackest jealousy and

hate.

The rest of the day and the next were spent in the rejoicings of

the army. Turpin in a solemn service implored the favor of Heaven

upon the youthful knights, and blessed the white armor which was

prepared for them. Duke Namo presented them with golden spurs,

Charles himself girded on their swords. But what was his

astonishment when he examined that intended for Ogier! The loving

Fairy, Morgana, had had the art to change it, and to substitute

one of her own procuring, and when Charles drew it out of the

scabbard, these words appeared written on the steel: "My name is

Cortana, of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Durindana."

Charles saw that a superior power watched over the destinies of

Ogier; he vowed to love him as a father would, and Ogier promised

him the devotion of a son. Happy had it been for both if they had

always continued mindful of their promises.

The Saracen army had hardly recovered from its dismay when

Carahue, King of Mauritania, who was one of the knights overthrown

by Ogier at the time of the rescue of Charlemagne, determined to

challenge him to single combat. With that view he assumed the

dress of a herald, resolved to carry his own message. The French

knights admired his air, and said to one another that he seemed

more fit to be a knight than a bearer of messages.

Carahue began by passing the warmest eulogium upon the knight who

bore the Oriflamme on the day of the battle, and concluded by

saying that Carahue, King of Mauritania, respected that knight so

much that he challenged him to the combat.

Ogier had risen to reply, when he was interrupted by Charlot, who

said that the gage of the King of Mauritania could not fitly be

received by a vassal, living in captivity; by which he meant

Ogier, who was at that time serving as hostage for his father.

Fire flashed from the eyes of Ogier, but the presence of the

Emperor restrained his speech, and he was calmed by the kind looks

of Charlemagne, who said, with an angry voice, "Silence, Charlot!

By the life of Bertha, my queen, he who has saved my life is as

dear to me as yourself. Ogier," he continued, "you are no longer a

hostage. Herald! report my answer to your master, that never does

knight of my court refuse a challenge on equal terms. Ogier, the

Dane, accepts of his, and I myself am his security."

Carahue, profoundly bowing, replied, "My lord, I was sure that the

sentiments of so great a sovereign as yourself would be worthy of

your high and brilliant fame; I shall report your answer to my

master, who I know admires you, and unwillingly takes arms against

you." Then, turning to Charlot, whom he did not know as the son of

the Emperor, he continued, "As for you, Sir Knight, if the desire

of battle inflames you, I have it in charge from Sadon, cousin of

the King of Mauritania, to give the like defiance to any French

knights who will grant him the honor of the combat."

Charlot, inflamed with rage and vexation at the public reproof

which he had just received, hesitated not to deliver his gage.

Carahue received it with Ogier's, and it was agreed that the

combat should be on the next day in a meadow environed by woods

and equally distant from both armies.

The perfidious Charlot meditated the blackest treason. During the

night he collected some knights unworthy of the name, and like

himself in their ferocious manners; he made them swear to avenge

his injuries, armed them in black armor, and sent them to lie in

ambush in the wood, with orders to make a pretended attack upon

the whole party, but in fact, to lay heavy hands upon Ogier and

the two Saracens.

At the dawn of day Sadon and Carahue, attended tonly by two pages

to carry their spears, took their way to the appointed meadow; and

Charlot and Ogier repaired thither also, but by different paths.

Ogier advanced with a calm air, saluted courteously the two

Saracen knights, and joined them in arranging the terms of combat.

While this was going on the perfidious Charlot remained behind and

gave his men the signal to advance. That cowardly troop issued

from the wood and encompassed the three knights. All three were

equally surprised at the attack, but neither of them suspected the

other to have any hand in the treason. Seeing the attack made

equally upon them all, they united their efforts to resist it, and

made the most forward of the assailants bite the dust. Cortana

fell on no one without inflicting a mortal wound, but the sword of

Carahue was not of equal temper and broke in his hands. At the

same instant his horse was slain, and Carahue fell, without a

weapon, and entangled with his prostrate horse. Ogier, who saw it,

ran to his defence, and leaping to the ground covered the prince

with his shield, supplied him with the sword of one of the fallen

ruffians, and would have him mount his own horse. At that moment

Charlot, inflamed with rage, pushed his horse upon Ogier, knocked

him down, and would have run him through with his lance if Sadon,

who saw the treason, had not sprung upon him and thrust him back.

Carahue leapt lightly upon the horse which Ogier presented him,

and had time only to exclaim, "Brave Ogier, I am no longer your

enemy, I pledge to you an eternal friendship," when numerous

Saracen knights were seen approaching, having discovered the

treachery, and Charlot with his followers took refuge in the wood.

The troop which advanced was commanded by Dannemont, the exiled

king of Denmark, whom Geoffroy, Ogier's father, had driven from

his throne and compelled to take refuge with the Saracens.

Learning who Ogier was, he instantly declared him his prisoner, in

spite of the urgent remonstrances and even threats of Carahue and

Sadon, and carried him under a strong guard to the Saracen camp.

Here he was at first subjected to the most rigorous captivity, but

Carahue and Sadon insisted so vehemently on his release,

threatening to turn their arms against their own party if it was

not granted, while Dannemont as eagerly opposed the measure, that

Corsuble, the Saracen commander, consented to a middle course, and

allowed Ogier the freedom of his camp, upon his promise not to

leave it without permission.

Carahue was not satisfied with this partial concession. He left

the city next morning, proceeded to the camp of Charlemagne, and

demanded to be led to the Emperor. When he reached his presence he

dismounted from his horse, took off his helmet, drew his sword,

and holding it by the blade presented it to Charlemagne as he

knelt before him.

"Illustrious prince," he said, "behold before you the herald who

brought the challenge to your knights from the King of Mauritania.

The cowardly old King Dannemont has made the brave Ogier prisoner,

and has prevailed on our general to refuse to give him up. I come

to make amends for this ungenerous conduct by yielding myself,

Carahue, King of Mauritania, your prisoner."

Charlemagne, with all his peers, admired the magnanimity of

Carahue; he raised him, embraced him, and restored to him his

sword. "Prince," said he, "your presence and the bright example

you afford my knights consoles me for the loss of Ogier. Would to

God you might receive our holy faith, and be wholly united with

us." All the lords of the court, led by Duke Namo, paid their

respects to the King of Mauritania. Charlot only failed to appear,

fearing to be recognized as a traitor; but the heart of Carahue

was too noble to pierce that of Charlemagne by telling him the

treachery of his son.

Meanwhile the Saracen army was rent by discord. The troops of

Carahue clamored against the commander-in-chief because their king

was left in captivity. They even threatened to desert the cause

and turn their arms against their allies. Charlemagne pressed the

siege vigorously, till at length the Saracen leaders found

themselves compelled to abandon the city and betake themselves to

their ships. A truce was made; Ogier was exchanged for Carahue,

and the two friends embraced one another with vows of perpetual

brotherhood. The Pope was reestablished in his dominions, and

Italy being tranquil, Charlemagne returned with his peers and

their followers to France.

OGIER, THE DANE (Continued)

CHARLEMAGNE had not forgotten the offence of Geoffroy, the King of

Denmark, in withholding homage, and now prepared to enforce

submission. But at this crisis he was waited upon by an embassy

from Geoffroy, acknowledging his fault, and craving assistance

against an army of invaders who had attacked his states with a

force which he was unable to repel. The soul of Charlemagne was

too great to be implacable, and he took this opportunity to test

that of Ogier, who had felt acutely the unkindness of his father,

in leaving him, without regard or notice, fifteen years in

captivity. Charles asked Ogier whether, in spite of his father's

neglect, he was disposed to lead an army to his assistance. He

replied, "A son can never be excused from helping his father by

any cause short of death." Charlemagne placed an army of a

thousand knights under the command of Ogier, and great numbers

more volunteered to march under so distinguished a leader. He flew

to the succor of his father, repelled the invaders, and drove them

in confusion to their vessels. Ogier then hastened to the capital,

but as he drew near the city he heard all the bells sounding a

knell. He soon learned the cause; it was the obsequies of

Geoffroy, the King. Ogier felt keenly the grief of not having been

permitted to embrace his father once more, and to learn his latest

commands; but he found that his father had declared him heir to

his throne. He hastened to the church where the body lay; he knelt

and bathed the lifeless form with his tears. At that moment a

celestial light beamed all around, and a voice of an angel said,

"Ogier, leave thy crown to Guyon, thy brother, and bear no other

title than that of 'The Dane.' Thy destiny is glorious, and other

kingdoms are reserved for thee." Ogier obeyed the divine behest.

He saluted his stepmother respectfully, and embracing his brother,

told him that he was content with his lot in being reckoned among

the paladins of Charlemagne, and resigned all claims to the crown

of Denmark.

Ogier returned covered with glory to the court of Charlemagne, and

the Emperor, touched with this proof of his attachment, loaded him

with caresses, and treated him almost as an equal.

We pass in silence the adventures of Ogier for several ensuing

years, in which the fairy-gifts of his infancy showed their force

in making him successful in all enterprises, both of love and war.

He married the charming Belicene, and became the father of young

Baldwin, a youth who seemed to inherit in full measure the

strength and courage of his father and the beauty of his mother.

When the lad was old enough to be separated from his mother, Ogier

took him to court and presented him to Charlemagne, who embraced

him and took him into his service. It seemed to Duke Namo, and all

the elder knights, as if they saw in him Ogier himself, as he was

when a youth; and this resemblance won for the lad their kind

regards. Even Charlot at first seemed to be fond of him, though

after a while the resemblance to Ogier which he noticed had the

effect to excite his hatred.

Baldwin was attentive to Charlot, and lost no occasion to be

serviceable. The Prince loved to play chess, and Baldwin, who

played well, often made a party with him.

One day Charlot was nettled at losing two pieces in succession; he

thought he could, by taking a piece from Baldwin, get some amends

for his loss; but Baldwin, seeing him fall into a trap which he

had set for him, could not help a slight laugh, as he said,

"Check-mate." Chariot rose in a fury, seized the rich and heavy

chess-board, and dashed it with all his strength on the head of

Baldwin, who fell, and died where he fell.

Frightened at his own crime, and fearing the vengeance of the

terrible Ogier, Charlot concealed himself in the interior of the

palace. A young companion of Baldwin hastened and informed Ogier

of the event. He ran to the chamber, and beheld the body of his

child bathed in blood, and it could not be concealed from him that

Charlot gave the blow. Transported with rage, Ogier sought Charlot

through the palace, and Charlot, feeling safe nowhere else, took

refuge in the hall of Charlemagne, where he seated himself at

table with Duke Namo and Salomon, Duke of Brittany. Ogier, with

sword drawn, followed him to the very table of the Emperor. When a

cupbearer attempted to bar his way he struck the cup from his hand

and dashed the contents in the Emperor's face. Charles rose in a

passion, seized a knife, and would have plunged it into his

breast, had not Salomon and another baron thrown themselves

between, while Namo, who had retained his ancient influence over

Ogier, drew him out of the room. Foreseeing the consequence of

this violence, pitying Ogier, and in his heart excusing him, Namo

hurried him away before the guards of the palace could arrest him,

made him mount his horse, and leave Paris.

Charlemagne called together his peers, and made them take an oath

to do all in their power to arrest Ogier, and bring him to condign

punishment. Ogier on his part sent messages to the Emperor,

offering to give himself up on condition that Charlot should be

punished for his atrocious crime. The Emperor would listen to no

conditions, and went in pursuit of Ogier at the head of a large

body of soldiers. Ogier, on the other hand, was warmly supported

by many knights, who pledged themselves in his defence. The

contest raged long, with no decisive results. Ogier more than once

had the Emperor in his power, but declined to avail himself of his

advantage, and released him without conditions. He even implored

pardon for himself, but demanded at the same time the punishment

of Charlot. But Charlemagne was too blindly fond of his unworthy

son to subject him to punishment for the sake of conciliating one

who had been so deeply injured.

At length, distressed at the blood which his friends had lost in

his cause, Ogier dismissed his little army, and slipping away from

those who wished to attend him, took his course to rejoin the Duke

Guyon, his brother. On his way, having reached the forest of

Ardennes, weary with long travel, the freshness of a retired

valley tempted him to lie down to take some repose. He unsaddled

Beiffror, relieved himself of his helmet, lay down on the turf,

rested his head on his shield, and slept.

It so happened that Turpin, who occasionally recalled to mind that

he was Archbishop of Rheins, was at that time in the vicinity,

making a pastoral visit to the churches under his jurisdiction.

But his dignity of peer of France, and his martial spirit, which

caused him to be reckoned among the "preux chevaliers" of his

time, forbade him to travel without as large a retinue of knights

as he had of clergymen. One of these was thirsty, and knowing the

fountain on the borders of which Ogier was reposing, he rode to

it, and was struck by the sight of a knight stretched on the

ground. He hastened back, and let the Archbishop know, who

approached the fountain, and recognized Ogier.

The first impulse of the good and generous Turpin was to save his

friend, for whom he felt the warmest attachment; but his

archdeacons and knights, who also recognized Ogier, reminded the

Archbishop of the oath which the Emperor had exacted of them all.

Turpin could not be false to his oath; but it was not without a

groan that he permitted his followers to bind the sleeping knight.

The Archbishop's attendants secured the horse and arms of Ogier,

and conducted their prisoner to the Emperor at Soissons.

The Emperor had become so much embittered by Ogier's obstinate

resistance, added to his original fault, that he was disposed to

order him to instant death. But Turpin, seconded by the good Dukes

Namo and Salomon, prayed so hard for him that Charlemagne

consented to remit a violent death, but sentenced him to close

imprisonment, under the charge of the Archbishop, strictly

limiting his food to one quarter of a loaf of bread per day, with

one piece of meat, and a quarter of a cup of wine. In this way he

hoped to quickly put an end to his life without bringing on

himself the hostility of the King of Denmark, and other powerful

friends of Ogier. He exacted a new oath of Turpin to obey his

order strictly.

The good Archbishop loved Ogier too well not to cast about for

some means of saving his life, which he foresaw he would soon lose

if subjected to such scanty fare, for Ogier was seven feet tall,

and had an appetite in proportion. Turpin remembered, moreover,

that Ogier was a true son of the Church, always zealous to

propagate the faith and subdue unbelievers; so he felt justified

in practising on this occasion what in later times has been

entitled "mental reservation," without swerving from the letter of

the oath which he had taken. This is the method he hit upon.

Every morning he had his prisoner supplied with a quarter of a

loaf of bread, made of two bushels of flour, to this he added a

quarter of a sheep or a fat calf, and he had a cup made which held

forty pints of wine, and allowed Ogier a quarter of it daily.

Ogier's imprisonment lasted long; Charlemagne was astonished to

hear, from time to time, that he still held out; and when he

inquired more particularly of Turpin, the good Archbishop, relying

on his own understanding of the words, did not hesitate to affirm

positively that he allowed his prisoner no more than the permitted

ration.

We forgot to say that, when Ogier was led prisoner to Soissons,

the Abbot of Saint Faron, observing the fine horse Beiffror, and

not having at the time any other favor to ask of Charlemagne,

begged the Emperor to give him the horse, and had him taken to his

abbey. He was impatient to try his new acquisition, and when he

had arrived in his litter at the foot of the mountain where the

horse had been brought to meet him mounted him and rode onward.

The horse, accustomed to bear the enormous weight of Ogier in his

armor, when he perceived nothing on his back but the light weight

of the Abbot, whose long robes fluttered against his sides, ran

away, making prodigious leaps over the steep acclivities of the

mountain till he reached the convent of Jouaire, where, in sight

of the Abbess and her nuns, he threw the Abbot, already half dead

with fright, to the ground. The Abbot, bruised and mortified,

revenged himself on poor Beiffror, whom he condemned, in his

wrath, to be given to the workmen to drag stones for a chapel that

he was building near the abbey. Thus, ill-fed, hard-worked, and

often beaten, the noble horse Beiffror passed the time while his

master's imprisonment lasted.

That imprisonment would have been as long as his life if it had

not been for some important events which forced the Emperor to set

Ogier at liberty.

The Emperor learned at the same time that Carahue, King of

Mauritania, was assembling an army to come and demand the

liberation of Ogier; that Guyon, King of Denmark, was prepared to

second the enterprise with all his forces; and, worse than all,

that the Saracens, under Bruhier, Sultan of Arabia, had landed in

Gascony, taken Bordeaux, and were marching with all speed for

Paris.

Charlemagne now felt how necessary the aid of Ogier was to him.

But, in spite of the representations of Turpin, Namo, and Salomon,

he could not bring himself to consent to surrender Charlot to such

punishment as Ogier should see fit to impose. Besides, he believed

that Ogier was without strength and vigor, weakened by

imprisonment and long abstinence.

At this crisis he received a message from Bruhier, proposing to

put the issue upon the result of a combat between himself and the

Emperor or his champion; promising, if defeated, to withdraw his

army. Charlemagne would willingly have accepted the challenge, but

his counsellors all opposed it. The herald was therefore told that

the Emperor would take time to consider his proposition, and give

his answer the next day.

It was during this interval that the three Dukes succeeded in

prevailing upon Charlemagne to pardon Ogier, and to send for him

to combat the puissant enemy who now defied him; but it was no

easy task to persuade Ogier. The idea of his long imprisonment and

the recollection of his son, bleeding and dying in his arms by the

blow of the ferocious Charlot, made him long resist the urgency of

his friends. Though glory called him to encounter Bruhier, and the

safety of Christendom demanded the destruction of this proud enemy

of the faith, Ogier only yielded at last on condition that Charlot

should be delivered into his hands to be dealt with as he should

see fit.

The terms were hard, but the danger was pressing, and Charlemagne,

with a returning sense of justice, and a strong confidence in the

generous though passionate soul of Ogier, at last consented to

them.

Ogier was led into the presence of Charlemagne by the three peers.

The Emperor, faithful to his word, had caused Charlot to be

brought into the hall where the high barons were assembled, his

hands tied, and his head uncovered. When the Emperor saw Ogier

approach he took Charlot by the arm, led him towards Ogier, and

said these words: "I surrender the criminal; do with him as you

think fit." Ogier, without replying, seized Charlot by the hair,

forced him on his knees, and lifted with the other hand his

irresistible sword. Charlemagne, who expected to see the head of

his son rolling at his feet, shut his eyes and uttered a cry of

horror.

Ogier had done enough. The next moment he raised Charlot, cut his

bonds, kissed him on the mouth, and hastened to throw himself at

the feet of the Emperor.

Nothing can exceed the surprise and joy of Charlemagne at seeing

his son unharmed and Ogier kneeling at his feet. He folded him in

his arms, bathed him with tears, and exclaimed to his barons, "I

feel at this moment that Ogier is greater than I." As for Charlot,

his base soul felt nothing but the joy of having escaped death; he

remained such as he had been, and it was not till some years

afterwards he received the punishment he deserved, from the hands

of Huon of Bordeaux, as we have seen in a former chapter.

OGIER, THE DANE (Continued)

WHEN Charlemagne had somewhat recovered his composure he was

surprised to observe that Ogier appeared in good case, and had a

healthy color in his cheeks. He turned to the Archbishop, who

could not help blushing as he met his eye. "By the head of Bertha,

my queen," said Charlemagne, "Ogier has had good quarters in your

castle, my Lord Archbishop; but so much the more am I indebted to

you." All the barons laughed and jested with Turpin, who only

said, "Laugh as much as you please, my lords; but for my part I am

not sorry to see the arm in full vigor that is to avenge us on the

proud Saracen."

Charlemagne immediately despatched his herald, accepting the

challenge, and appointing the next day but one for the encounter.

The proud and crafty Bruhier laughed scornfully when he heard the

reply accepting his challenge, for he had a reliance on certain

resources besides his natural strength and skill. However, he

swore by Mahomet to observe the conditions as proposed and agreed

upon.

Ogier now demanded his armor, and it was brought to him in

excellent condition, for the good Turpin had kept it faithfully;

but it was not easy to provide a horse for the occasion.

Charlemagne had the best horses of his stables brought out, except

Blanchard, his own charger; but all in vain, the weight of Ogier

bent their backs to the ground. In this embarrassment the

Archbishop remembered that the Emperor had given Beiffror to the

Abbot of St. Faron, and sent off a courier in haste to re-demand

him.

Monks are hard masters, and the one who directed the laborers at

the abbey had but too faithfully obeyed the orders of the Abbot.

Poor Beiffror was brought back, lean, spiritless, and chafed with

the harness of the vile cart that he had had to draw so long. He

carried his head down, and trod heavily before Charlemagne; but

when he heard the voice of Ogier he raised his head, he neighed,

his eyes flashed, his former ardor showed itself by the force with

which he pawed the ground. Ogier caressed him, and the good steed

seemed to return his caresses; Ogier mounted him, and Beiffror,

proud of carrying his master again, leapt and curvetted with all

his youthful vigor.

Nothing being now wanted, Charlemagne, at the head of his army,

marched forth from the city of Paris, and occupied the hill of

Montmartre, whence the view extended over the plain of St. Denis,

where the battle was to be fought.

When the appointed day came the Dukes Namo and Salomon, as seconds

of Ogier, accompanied him to the place marked out for the lists,

and Bruhier, with two distinguished Emirs, presented himself on

the other side.

Bruhier was in high spirits, and jested with his friends, as he

advanced, upon the appearance of Beiffror. "Is that the horse they

presume to match with Marchevallee, the best steed that ever fed

in the vales of Mount Atlas?" But now the combatants, having met

and saluted each other, ride apart to come together in full

career. Beiffror flew over the plain, and met the adversary more

than half-way. The lances of the two combatants were shivered at

the shock, and Bruhier was astonished to see almost at the same

instant the sword of Ogier gleaming above his head. He parried it

with his buckler, and gave Ogier a blow on his helmet, who

returned it with another, better aimed or better seconded by the

temper of his blade, for it cut away part of Bruhier's helmet, and

with it his ear and part of his cheek. Ogier, seeing the blood,

did not immediately repeat his blow, and Bruhier seized the moment

to gallop off at one side. As he rode he took a vase of gold which

hung at his saddle-bow, and bathed with its contents the wounded

part. The blood instantly ceased to flow, the ear and the flesh

were restored quite whole, and the Dane was astonished to see his

antagonist return to the ground as sound as ever.

Bruhier laughed at his amazement. "Know," said he, "that I possess

the precious balm that Joseph of Arimathea used upon the body of

the crucified one, whom you worship. If I should lose an arm I

could restore it with a few drops of this. It is useless for you

to contend with me. Yield yourself, and, as you appear to be a

strong fellow, I will make you first oarsman in one of my

galleys."

Ogier, though boiling with rage, forgot not to implore the

assistance of Heaven. "O Lord!" he exclaimed, "suffer not the

enemy of thy name to profit by the powerful help of that which

owes all its virtue to thy divine blood." At these words he

attacked Bruhier again with more vigor than ever; both struck

terrible blows, and made grievous wounds; but the blood flowed

from those of Ogier, while Bruhier stanched his by the application

of his balm. Ogier, desperate at the unequal contest, grasped

Cortana with both hands, and struck his enemy such a blow that it

cleft his buckler, and cut off his arm with it; but Bruhier at the

same time launched one at Ogier, which, missing him, struck the

head of Beiffror, and the good horse fell, and drew down his

master in his fall.

Bruhier had time to leap to the ground, to pick up his arm and

apply his balsam; then, before Ogier had recovered his footing, he

rushed forward with sword uplifted to complete his destruction.

Charlemagne, from the height of Montmartre, seeing the brave Ogier

in this situation, groaned, and was ready to murmur against

Providence; but the good Turpin, raising his arms, with a faith

like that of Moses, drew down upon the Christian warrior the favor

of Heaven.

Ogier, promptly disengaging himself, pressed Bruhier with so much

impetuosity that he drove him to a distance from his horse, to

whose saddle-bow the precious balm was suspended; and very soon

Charlemagne saw Ogier, now completely in the advantage, bring his

enemy to his knees, tear off his helmet, and, with a sweep of his

sword, strike his head from his body.

After the victory, Ogier seized Marchevallee, leaped upon his

back, and became possessed of the precious flask, a few drops from

which closed his wounds and restored his strength. The French

knights who had been Bruhier's captives, now released, pressed

round Ogier to thank him for their deliverance.

Charlemagne and his nobles, as soon as their attention was

relieved from the single combat, perceived from their elevated

position an unusual agitation in the enemy's camp. They attributed

it at first to the death of their general, but soon the noise of

arms, the cries of combatants, and new standards which advanced,

disclosed to them the fact that Bruhier's army was attacked by a

new enemy.

The Emperor was right; it was the brave Carahue of Mauritania,

who, with an army, had arrived in France, resolved to attempt the

liberation of Ogier, his brother in arms. Learning on his arrival

the changed aspect of affairs, he hesitated not to render a signal

service to the Emperor, by attacking the army of Bruhier in the

midst of the consternation occasioned by the loss of its

commander.

Ogier recognized the standard of his friend, and leaping upon

Marchevallee, flew to aid his attack. Charlemagne followed with

his army; and the Saracen host, after an obstinate conflict, was

forced to surrender unconditionally.

The interview of Ogier and Carahue was such as might be

anticipated of two such attached friends and accomplished knights.

Charlemagne went to meet them, embraced them, and putting the King

of Mauritania on his right and Ogier on his left, returned with

triumph to Paris. There the Empress Bertha and the ladies of her

court crowned them with laurels, and the sage and gallant

Eginhard, chamberlain and secretary of the Emperor, wrote all

these great events in his history.

A few days after Guyon, King of Denmark, arrived in France with a

chosen band of knights, and sent an ambassador to Charlemagne, to

say that he came, not as an enemy, but to render homage to him as

the best knight of the time and the head of the Christian world.

Charlemagne gave the ambassador a cordial reception, and mounting

his horse, rode forward to meet the King of Denmark.

These great princes, being assembled at the court of Charles, held

council together, and the ancient and sage barons were called to

join it.

It was decided that the united Danish and Mauritanian armies

should cross the sea and carry the war to the country of the

Saracens, and that a thousand French knights should range

themselves under the banner of Ogier, the Dane, who, though not a

king, should have equal rank with the two others.

We have not space to record all the illustrious actions performed

by Ogier and his allies in this war. Suffice it to say, they

subdued the Saracens of Ptolemais and Judaea, and, erecting those

regions into a kingdom, placed the crown upon the head of Ogier.

Guyon and Carahue then left him, to return to their respective

dominions. Ogier adopted Walter, the son of Guyon of Denmark, to

be his successor in his kingdom. He superintended his education,

and saw the young prince grow up worthy of his cares. But Ogier,

in spite of all the honors of his rank, often regretted the court

of Charlemagne, the Duke Namo, and Salomon of Brittany, for whom

he had the respect and attachment of a son. At last, finding

Walter old enough to sustain the weight of government, Ogier

caused a vessel to be prepared secretly, and, attended only by one

squire, left his palace by night, and embarked to return to

France.

The vessel, driven by a fair wind, cut the sea with the swiftness

of a bird; but on a sudden it deviated from its course, no longer

obeyed the helm, and sped fast towards a black promontory which

stretched into the sea. This was a mountain of loadstone, and, its

attractive power increasing as the distance diminished, the vessel

at last flew with the swiftness of an arrow towards it, and was

dashed to pieces on its rocky base. Ogier alone saved himself, and

reached the shore on a fragment of the wreck.

Ogier advanced into the country, looking for some marks of

inhabitancy, but found none. On a sudden he encountered two

monstrous animals, covered with glittering scales, accompanied by

a horse breathing fire. Ogier drew his sword and prepared to

defend himself; but the monsters, terrific as they appeared, made

no attempt to assail him, and the horse, Papillon, knelt down, and

appeared to court Ogier to mount upon his back. Ogier hesitated

not to see the adventure through; he mounted Papillon, who ran

with speed, and soon cleared the rocks and precipices which hemmed

in and concealed a beautiful landscape. He continued his course

till he reached a magnificent palace, and, without allowing Ogier

time to admire it, crossed a grand court-yard adorned with

colonnades, and entered a garden, where, making his way through

alleys of myrtle, he checked his course, and knelt down on the

enamelled turf of a fountain.

Ogier dismounted and took some steps along the margin of the

stream, but was soon stopped by meeting a young beauty, such as

they paint the Graces, and almost as lightly attired as they. At

the same moment, to his amazement, his armor fell off of its own

accord. The young beauty advanced with a tender air, and placed

upon his head a crown of flowers. At that instant the Danish hero

lost his memory; his combats, his glory, Charlemagne and his

court, all vanished from his mind; he saw only Morgana, he desired

nothing but to sigh forever at her feet.

We abridge the narrative of all the delights which Ogier enjoyed

for more than a hundred years. Time flew by, leaving no impression

of its flight. Morgana's youthful charms did not decay, and Ogier

had none of those warnings of increasing years which less favored

mortals never fail to receive. There is no knowing how long this

blissful state might have lasted, if it had not been for an

accident, by which Morgana one day, in a sportive moment, snatched

the crown from his head. That moment Ogier regained his memory,

and lost his contentment. The recollection of Charlemagne, and of

his own relatives and friends, saddened the hours which he passed

with Morgana. The fairy saw with grief the changed looks of her

lover. At last she drew from him the acknowledgment that he wished

to go, at least for a time, to revisit Charles's court. She

consented with reluctance, and with her own hands helped to

reinvest him with his armor. Papillon was led forth, Ogier mounted

him, and, taking a tender adieu of the tearful Morgana, crossed at

rapid speed the rocky belt which separated Morgana's palace from

the borders of the sea. The sea-goblins which had received him at

his coming awaited him on the shore. One of them took Ogier on his

back, and the other placing himself under Papillon, they spread

their broad fins, and in a short time traversed the wide space

that separates the isle of Avalon from France. They landed Ogier

on the coast of Languedoc, and then plunged into the sea and

disappeared.

Ogier remounted on Papillon, who carried him across the kingdom

almost as fast as he had passed the sea. He arrived under the

walls of Paris, which he would scarcely have recognized if the

high towers of St. Genevieve had not caught his eye. He went

straight to the palace of Charlemagne, which seemed to him to have

been entirely rebuilt. His surprise was extreme, and increased

still more on finding that he understood with difficulty the

language of the guards and attendants in replying to his

questions; and seeing them smile as they tried to explain to one

another the language in which he addressed them. Presently the

attention of some of the barons who were going to court was

attracted to the scene, and Ogier, who recognized the badges of

their rank, addressed them, and inquired if the Dukes Namo and

Salomon were still residing at the Emperor's court. At this

question the barons looked at one another in amazement; and one of

the eldest said to the rest, "How much this knight resembles the

portrait of my grand-uncle, Ogier the Dane." "Ah! my dear nephew,

I am Ogier the Dane," said he; and he remembered that Morgana had

told him that he was little aware of the flight of time during his

abode with her.

The barons, more astonished than ever, concluded to conduct him to

the monarch who then reigned, the great Hugh Capet.

The brave Ogier entered the palace without hesitation; but when,

on reaching the royal hall, the barons directed him to make his

obeisance to the King of France, he was astonished to see a man of

short stature and large head, whose air, nevertheless, was noble

and martial, seated upon the throne on which he had so often seen

Charlemagne, the tallest and handsomest sovereign of his time.

Ogier recounted his adventures with simplicity and affectedness.

Hugh Capet was slow to believe him; but Ogier recalled so many

proofs and circumstances, that at last he was forced to recognize

the aged warrior to be the famous Ogier the Dane.

The king informed Ogier of the events which had taken place during

his long absence; that the line of Charlemagne was extinct; that a

new dynasty had commenced; that the old enemies of the kingdom,

the Saracens, were still troublesome; and that at that very time

an army of those miscreants was besieging the city of Chartres, to

which he was about to repair in a few days to its relief. Ogier,

always inflamed with the love of glory, offered the service of his

arm, which the illustrious monarch accepted graciously, and

conducted him to the queen. The astonishment of Ogier was

redoubled when he saw the new ornaments and head-dresses of the

ladies; still, the beautiful hair which they built up on their

foreheads, and the feathers interwoven, which waved with so much

grace, gave them a noble air that delighted him. His admiration

increased when, instead of the old Empress Bertha, he saw a young

queen who combined a majestic mien with the graces of her time of

life, and manners candid and charming, suited to attach all

hearts. Ogier saluted the youthful queen with a respect so

profound that many of the courtiers took him for a foreigner, or

at least for some nobleman brought up at a distance from Paris,

who retained the manners of what they called the old court.

When the queen was informed by her husband that it was the

celebrated Ogier the Dane whom he presented to her, whose

memorable exploits she had often read in the chronicles of

antiquity, her surprise was extreme, which was increased when she

remarked the dignity of his address, the animation and even the

youthfulness of his countenance. This queen had too much

intelligence to believe hastily; proof alone could compel her

assent; and she asked him many questions about the old court of

Charlemagne, and received such instructive and appropriate answers

as removed every doubt. It is to the corrections which Ogier was

at that time enabled to make to the popular narratives of his

exploits that we are indebted for the perfect accuracy and

trustworthiness of all the details of our own history.

King Hugh Capet, having received that same evening couriers from

the inhabitants of Chartres, informing him that they were hard

pressed by the besiegers, resolved to hasten with Ogier to their

relief.

Ogier terminated this affair as expeditiously as he had so often

done others. The Saracens having dared to offer battle, he bore

the Oriflamme through the thickest of their ranks; Papillon,

breathing fire from his nostrils, threw them into disorder, and

Cortana, wielded by his invincible arm, soon finished their

overthrow.

The king, victorious over the Saracens, led back the Danish hero

to Paris, where the deliverer of France received the honors due to

his valor. Ogier continued some time at the court, detained by the

favor of the king and queen; but erelong he had the pain to

witness the death of the king. Then it was that, impressed with

all the perfections which he had discerned in the queen, he could

not withhold the tender homage of the offer of his hand. The queen

would perhaps have accepted it, she had even called a meeting of

her great barons to deliberate on the proposition, when, the day

before the meeting was to be held, at the moment when Ogier was

kneeling at her feet, she perceived a crown of gold which an

invisible hand had placed on his brow, and in an instant a cloud

enveloped Ogier, and he disappeared forever from her sight. It was

Morgana, the fairy, whose jealousy was awakened at what she

beheld, who now resumed her power, and took him away to dwell with

her in the island of Avalon. There, in company with the great King

Arthur of Britain, he still lives, and when his illustrious friend

shall return to resume his ancient reign he will doubtless return

with him, and share his triumph.

GLOSSARY

Abdalrahman, founder of the independent Ommiad (Saracenic) power

in Spain, conquered at Tours by Charles Martel

Aberfraw, scene of nuptials of Branwen and Matholch

Absyrtus, younger brother of Medea

Abydos, a town on the Hellespont, nearly opposite to Sestos

Abyla, Mount, or Columna, a mountain in Morocco, near Ceuta, now

called Jebel Musa or Ape's Hill, forming the Northwestern

extremity of the African coast opposite Gibraltar (See Pillars of

Hercules)

Acestes, son of a Trojan woman who was sent by her father to

Sicily, that she might not be devoured by the monsters which

infested the territory of Troy

Acetes, Bacchanal captured by Pentheus

Achates, faithful friend and companion of Aeneas

Achelous, river-god of the largest river in Greece--his Horn of

Plenty

Achilles, the hero of the Iliad, son of Peleus and of the Nereid

Thetis, slain by Paris

Acis, youth loved by Galatea and slain by Polyphemus

Acontius, a beautiful youth, who fell in love with Cydippe, the

daughter of a noble Athenian.

Acrisius, son of Abas, king of Argos, grandson of Lynceus, the

great-grandson of Danaus.

Actaeon, a celebrated huntsman, son of Aristaeus and Autonoe, who,

having seen Diana bathing, was changed by her to a stag and killed

by his own dogs.

Admeta, daughter of Eurystheus, covets Hippolyta's girdle.

Admetus, king of Thessaly, saved from death by Alcestis

Adonis, a youth beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), and Proserpine;

killed by a boar.

Adrastus, a king of Argos.

Aeacus, son of Zeus (Jupiter) and Aegina, renowned in all Greece

for his justice and piety.

Aeaea, Circe's island, visited by Ulysses.

Aeetes, or Aeeta, son of Helios (the Sun) and Perseis, and father

of Medea and Absyrtus.

Aegeus, king of Athens.

Aegina, a rocky island in the middle of the Saronic gulf.

Aegis, shield or breastplate of Jupiter and Minerva.

Aegisthus, murderer of Agamemnon, slain by Orestes.

Aeneas, Trojan hero, son of Anchises and Aphrodite (Venus), and

born on Mount Ida, reputed first settler of Rome,

Aeneid, poem by Virgil, relating the wanderings of Aeneas from

Troy to Italy,

Ae'olus, son of Hellen and the nymph Orseis, represented in Homer

as the happy ruler of the Aeolian Islands, to whom Zeus had given

dominion over the winds,

Aesculapius, god of the medical art,

Aeson, father of Jason, made young again by Medea,

Aethiopians, inhabitants of the country south of Egypt,

Aethra, mother of Theseus by Aegeus,

Aetna, volcano in Sicily,

Agamedes, brother of Trophonius, distinguished as an architect,

Agamemnon, son of Plisthenis and grandson of Atreus, king of

Mycenae, although the chief commander of the Greeks, is not the

hero of the Iliad, and in chivalrous spirit altogether inferior to

Achilles,

Agave, daughter of Cadmus, wife of Echion, and mother of Pentheus,

Agenor, father of Europa, Cadmus, Cilix, and Phoenix,

Aglaia, one of the Graces,

Agni, Hindu god of fire,

Agramant, a king in Africa,

Agrican, fabled king of Tartary, pursuing Angelica, finally killed

by Orlando,

Agrivain, one of Arthur's knights,

Ahriman, the Evil Spirit in the dual system of Zoroaster, See

Ormuzd

Ajax, son of Telamon, king of Salamis, and grandson of Aeacus,

represented in the Iliad as second only to Achilles in bravery,

Alba, the river where King Arthur fought the Romans,

Alba Longa, city in Italy founded by son of Aeneas,

Alberich, dwarf guardian of Rhine gold treasure of the Nibelungs

Albracca, siege of,

Alcestis, wife of Admetus, offered hersell as sacrifice to spare

her husband, but rescued by Hercules,

Alcides (Hercules),

Alcina, enchantress,

Alcinous, Phaeacian king,

Alcippe, daughter of Mars, carried off by Halirrhothrus,

Alcmena, wife of Jupiter, and mother of Hercules,

Alcuin, English prelate and scholar,

Aldrovandus, dwarf guardian of treasure,

Alecto, one of the Furies,

Alexander the Great, king of Macedonia, conqueror of Greece,

Egypt, Persia, Babylonia, and India,

Alfadur, a name for Odin,

Alfheim, abode of the elves of light,

Alice, mother of Huon and Girard, sons of Duke Sevinus,

Alphenor, son of Niobe,

Alpheus, river god pursuing Arethusa, who escaped by being changed

to a fountain,

Althaea, mother of Meleager, whom she slew because he had in a

quarrel killed her brothers, thus disgracing "the house of

Thestius," her father,

Amalthea, nurse of the infant Jupiter in Crete,

Amata, wife of Latinus, driven mad by Alecto,

Amaury of Hauteville, false hearted Knight of Charlemagne,

Amazons, mythical race of warlike women,

Ambrosia, celestial food used by the gods,

Ammon, Egyptian god of life identified by Romans with phases of

Jupiter, the father of gods,

Amphiaraus, a great prophet and hero at Argos,

Amphion, a musician, son of Jupiter and Antiope (See Dirce),

Amphitrite, wife of Neptune,

Amphyrsos, a small river in Thessaly,

Ampyx, assailant of Perseus, turned to stone by seeing Gorgon's

head,

Amrita, nectar giving immortality,

Amun, See Ammon

Amymone, one of the fifty daughters of Danaus, and mother by

Poseidon (Neptune) of Nauplius, the father of Palamedes,

Anaxarete, a maiden of Cyprus, who treated her lover Iphis with

such haughtiness that he hanged himself at her door,

Anbessa, Saracenic governor of Spain (725 AD),

Anceus, one of the Argonauts,

Anchises, beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), by whom he became the

father of Aeneas,

Andraemon, husband of Dryope, saw her changed into a tree,

Andret, a cowardly knight, spy upon Tristram,

Andromache, wife of Hector

Andromeda, daughter of King Cephas, delivered from monster by

Perseus

Aneurin, Welsh bard

Angelica, Princess of Cathay

Anemone, short lived wind flower, created by Venus from the blood

of the slain Adonis

Angerbode, giant prophetess, mother of Fenris, Hela and the

Midgard Serpent

Anglesey, a Northern British island, refuge of Druids fleeing from

Romans

Antaeus, giant wrestler of Libya, killed by Hercules, who, finding

him stronger when thrown to the earth, lifted him into the air and

strangled him

Antea, wife of jealous Proetus

Antenor, descendants of, in Italy

Anteros, deity avenging unrequited love, brother of Eros (Cupid)

Anthor, a Greek

Antigone, daughter of Aedipus, Greek ideal of filial and sisterly

fidelity

Antilochus, son of Nestor

Antiope, Amazonian queen. See Dirce

Anubis, Egyptian god, conductor of the dead to judgment

Apennines

Aphrodite See Venus, Dione, etc.

Apis, Egyptian bull god of Memphis

Apollo, god of music and song

Apollo Belvedere, famous antique statue in Vatican at Rome

Apples of the Hesperides, wedding gifts to Juno, guarded by

daughters of Atlas and Hesperis, stolen by Atlas for Hercules,

Aquilo, or Boreas, the North Wind,

Aquitaine, ancient province of Southwestern France,

Arachne, a maiden skilled in weaving, changed to a spider by

Minerva for daring to compete with her,

Arcadia, a country in the middle of Peloponnesus, surrounded on

all sides by mountains,

Arcady, star of, the Pole star,

Arcas, son of Jupiter and Callisto,

Archer, constellation of the,

Areopagus, court of the, at Athens,

Ares, called Mars by the Romans, the Greek god of war, and one of

the great Olympian gods,

Arethusa, nymph of Diana, changed to a fountain,

Argius king of Ireland, father of Isoude the Fair,

Argo, builder of the vessel of Jason for the Argonautic

expedition,

Argolis, city of the Nemean games,

Argonauts, Jason's crew seeking the Golden Fleece,

Argos, a kingdom in Greece,

Argus, of the hundred eyes, guardian of Io,

Ariadne, daughter of King Minos, who helped Theseus slay the

Minotaur,

Arimanes SEE Ahriman.

Arimaspians, one-eyed people of Syria,

Arion, famous musician, whom sailors cast into the sea to rob him,

but whose lyric song charmed the dolphins, one of which bore him

safely to land,

Aristaeus, the bee keeper, in love with Eurydice,

Armorica, another name for Britain,

Arridano, a magical ruffian, slain by Orlando,

Artemis SEE Diana

Arthgallo, brother of Elidure, British king,

Arthur, king in Britain about the 6th century,

Aruns, an Etruscan who killed Camilla,

Asgard, home of the Northern gods,

Ashtaroth, a cruel spirit, called by enchantment to bring Rinaldo

to death,

Aske, the first man, made from an ash tree,

Astolpho of England, one of Charlemagne's knights,

Astraea, goddess of justice, daughter of Astraeus and Eos,

Astyages, an assailant of Perseus,

Astyanax, son of Hector of Troy, established kingdom of Messina in

Italy,

Asuias, opponents of the Braminical gods,

Atalanta, beautiful daughter of King of Icaria, loved and won in a

foot race by Hippomenes,

Ate, the goddess of infatuation, mischief and guilt,

Athamas, son of Aeolus and Enarete, and king of Orchomenus, in

Boeotia, SEE Ino

Athene, tutelary goddess of Athens, the same as Minerva,

Athens, the capital of Attica, about four miles from the sea,

between the small rivers Cephissus and Ilissus,

Athor, Egyptian deity, progenitor of Isis and Osiris,

Athos, the mountainous peninsula, also called Acte, which projects

from Chalcidice in Macedonia,

Atlantes, foster father of Rogero, a powerful magician,

Atlantis, according to an ancient tradition, a great island west

of the Pillars of Hercules, in the ocean, opposite Mount Atlas,

Atlas, a Titan, who bore the heavens on his shoulders, as

punishment for opposing the gods, one of the sons of Iapetus,

Atlas, Mount, general name for range in northern Africa,

Atropos, one of the Fates

Attica, a state in ancient Greece,

Audhumbla, the cow from which the giant Ymir was nursed. Her milk

was frost melted into raindrops,

Augean stables, cleansed by Hercules,

Augeas, king of Elis,

Augustan age, reign of Roman Emperor Augustus Caesar, famed for

many great authors,

Augustus, the first imperial Caesar, who ruled the Roman Empire 31

BC--14 AD,

Aulis, port in Boeotia, meeting place of Greek expedition against

Troy,

Aurora, identical with Eos, goddess of the dawn,

Aurora Borealis, splendid nocturnal luminosity in northern sky,

called Northern Lights, probably electrical,

Autumn, attendant of Phoebus, the Sun,

Avalon, land of the Blessed, an earthly paradise in the Western

Seas, burial place of King Arthur,

Avatar, name for any of the earthly incarnations of Vishnu, the

Preserver (Hindu god),

Aventine, Mount, one of the Seven Hills of Rome,

Avernus, a miasmatic lake close to the promontory between Cumae

and Puteoli, filling the crater of an extinct volcano, by the

ancients thought to be the entrance to the infernal regions,

Avicenna, celebrated Arabian physician and philosopher,

Aya, mother of Rinaldo,

Aymon, Duke, father of Rinaldo and Bradamante,

B

Baal, king of Tyre,

Babylonian River, dried up when Phaeton drove the sun chariot,

Bacchanali a, a feast to Bacchus that was permitted to occur but

once in three years, attended by most shameless orgies,

Bacchanals, devotees and festal dancers of Bacchus,

Bacchus (Dionysus), god of wine and revelry,

Badon, battle of, Arthur's final victory over the Saxons,

Bagdemagus, King, a knight of Arthur's time,

Baldur, son of Odin, and representing in Norse mythology the sun

god,

Balisardo, Orlando's sword,

Ban, King of Brittany, ally of Arthur, father of Launcelot,

Bards, minstrels of Welsh Druids,

Basilisk SEE Cockatrice

Baucis, wife of Philemon, visited by Jupiter and Mercury,

Bayard, wild horse subdued by Rinaldo,

Beal, Druids' god of life,

Bedivere, Arthur's knight,

Bedver, King Arthur's butler, made governor of Normandy,

Bedwyr, knightly comrade of Geraint,

Belisarda, Rogero's sword,

Bellerophon, demigod, conqueror of the Chimaera,

Bellona, the Roman goddess of war, represented as the sister or

wife of Mars,

Beltane, Druidical fire festival,

Belus, son of Poseidon (Neptune) and Libya or Eurynome, twin

brother of Agenor,

Bendigeid Vran, King of Britain,

Beowulf, hero and king of the Swedish Geats,

Beroe, nurse of Semele,

Bertha, mother of Orlando,

Bifrost, rainbow bridge between the earth and Asgard

Bladud, inventor, builder of the city of Bath,

Blamor, a knight of Arthur,

Bleoberis, a knight of Arthur,

Boeotia, state in ancient Greece, capital city Thebes,

Bohort, King, a knight of Arthur,

Bona Dea, a Roman divinity of fertility,

Bootes, also called Areas, son of Jupiter and Calisto, changed to

constellation of Ursa Major,

Boreas, North wind, son of Aeolus and Aurora,

Bosporus (Bosphorus), the Cow-ford, named for Io, when as a heifer

she crossed that strait,

Bradamante, sister to Rinaldo, a female warrior,

Brademagus, King, father of Sir Maleagans,

Bragi, Norse god of poetry,

Brahma, the Creator, chief god of Hindu religion,

Branwen, daughter of Llyr, King of Britain, wife of Mathclch,

Breciliande, forest of, where Vivian enticed Merlin,

Brengwain, maid of Isoude the Fair

Brennus, son of Molmutius, went to Gaul, became King of the

Allobroges,

Breuse, the Pitiless, a caitiff knight,

Briareus, hundred armed giant,

Brice, Bishop, sustainer of Arthur when elected king,

Brigliadoro, Orlando's horse,

Briseis, captive maid belonging to Achilles,

Britto, reputed ancestor of British people,

Bruhier, Sultan of Arabia,

Brunello, dwarf, thief, and king

Brunhild, leader of the Valkyrie,

Brutus, great grandson of Aeneas, and founder of city of New Troy

(London), SEE Pandrasus

Bryan, Sir, a knight of Arthur,

Buddha, called The Enlightened, reformer of Brahmanism, deified

teacher of self abnegation, virtue, reincarnation, Karma

(inevitable sequence of every act), and Nirvana (beatific

absorption into the Divine), lived about

Byblos, in Egypt,

Byrsa, original site of Carthage,

C

Cacus, gigantic son of Vulcan, slain by Hercules, whose captured

cattle he stole,

Cadmus, son of Agenor, king of Phoenicia, and of Telephassa, and

brother of Europa, who, seeking his sister, carried off by

Jupiter, had strange adventures--sowing in the ground teeth of a

dragon he had killed, which sprang up armed men who slew each

other, all but five, who helped Cadmus to found the city of

Thebes,

Caduceus, Mercury's staff,

Cadwallo, King of Venedotia (North Wales),

Caerleon, traditional seat of Arthur's court,

Caesar, Julius, Roman lawyer, general, statesman and author,

conquered and consolidated Roman territory, making possible the

Empire,

Caicus, a Greek river,

Cairns, Druidical store piles,

Calais, French town facing England,

Calchas, wisest soothsayer among the Greeks at Troy,

Caliburn, a sword of Arthur,

Calliope, one of the nine Muses

Callisto, an Arcadian nymph, mother of Arcas (SEE Bootes), changed

by Jupiter to constellation Ursa Minor,

Calpe, a mountain in the south of Spain, on the strait between the

Atlantic and Mediterranean, now Rock of Gibraltar,

Calydon, home of Meleager,

Calypso, queen of Island of Ogyia, where Ulysses was wrecked and

held seven years,

Camber, son of Brutus, governor of West Albion (Wales),

Camelot, legendary place in England where Arthur's court and

palace were located,

Camenae, prophetic nymphs, belonging to the religion of ancient

Italy,

Camilla, Volscian maiden, huntress and Amazonian warrior, favorite

of Diana,

Camlan, battle of, where Arthur was mortally wounded,

Canterbury, English city,

Capaneus, husband of Evadne, slain by Jupiter for disobedience,

Capet, Hugh, King of France (987-996 AD),

Caradoc Briefbras, Sir, great nephew of King Arthur,

Carahue, King of Mauretania,

Carthage, African city, home of Dido

Cassandra, daughter of Priam and Hecuba, and twin sister of

Helenus, a prophetess, who foretold the coming of the Greeks but

was not believed,

Cassibellaunus, British chieftain, fought but not conquered by

Caesar,

Cassiopeia, mother of Andromeda,

Castalia, fountain of Parnassus, giving inspiration to Oracular

priestess named Pythia,

Castalian Cave, oracle of Apollo,

Castes (India),

Castor and Pollux--the Dioscuri, sons of Jupiter and Leda,--

Castor a horseman, Pollux a boxer (SEE Gemini),

Caucasus, Mount

Cavall, Arthur's favorite dog,

Cayster, ancient river,

Cebriones, Hector's charioteer,

Cecrops, first king of Athens,

Celestials, gods of classic mythology,

Celeus, shepherd who sheltered Ceres, seeking Proserpine, and

whose infant son Triptolemus was in gratitude made great by Ceres,

Cellini, Benvenuto, famous Italian sculptor and artificer in

metals,

Celtic nations, ancient Gauls and Britons, modern Bretons, Welsh,

Irish and Gaelic Scotch,

Centaurs, originally an ancient race, inhabiting Mount Pelion in

Thessaly, in later accounts represented as half horses and half

men, and said to have been the offspring of Ixion and a cloud,

Cephalus, husband of beautiful but jealous Procris,

Cephe us, King of Ethiopians, father of Andromeda,

Cephisus, a Grecian stream,

Cerberus, three-headed dog that guarded the entrance to Hades,

called a son of Typhaon and Echidna

CERES (See Demeter)

CESTUS, the girdle of Venus

CEYX, King of Thessaly (See Halcyone)

CHAOS, original Confusion, personified by Greeks as most ancient

of the gods

CHARLEMAGNE, king of the Franks and emperor of the Romans

CHARLES MARTEL', king of the Franks, grandfather of Charlemagne,

called Martel (the Hammer) from his defeat of the Saracens at

Tours

CHARLOT, son of Charlemagne

CHARON, son of Erebos, conveyed in his boat the shades of the dead

across the rivers of the lower world

CHARYB'DIS, whirlpool near the coast of Sicily, See Scylla

CHIMAERA, a fire breathing monster, the fore part of whose body

was that of a lion, the hind part that of a dragon, and the middle

that of a goat, slain by Bellerophon

CHINA, Lamas (priests) of

CHOS, island in the Grecian archipelago

CHIRON, wisest of all the Centaurs, son of Cronos (Saturn) and

Philyra, lived on Mount Pelion, instructor of Grecian heroes

CHRYSEIS, Trojan maid, taken by Agamemnon

CHRYSES, priest of Apollo, father of Chryseis

CICONIANS, inhabitants of Ismarus, visited by Ulysses

CIMBRI, an ancient people of Central Europe

Cimmeria, a land of darkness

Cimon, Athenian general

Circe, sorceress, sister of Aeetes

Cithaeron, Mount, scene of Bacchic worship

Clarimunda, wife of Huon

Clio, one of the Muses

Cloridan, a Moor

Clotho, one of the Fates

Clymene, an ocean nymph

Clytemnestra, wife of Agamemnon, killed by Orestes

Clytie, a water nymph, in love with Apollo

Cnidos, ancient city of Asia Minor, seat of worship of Aphrodite

(Venus)

Cockatrice (or Basilisk), called King of Serpents, supposed to

kill with its look

Cocytus, a river of Hades

Colchis, a kingdom east of the Black Sea

Colophon, one of the seven cities claiming the birth of Homer

Columba, St, an Irish Christian missionary to Druidical parts of

Scotland

Conan, Welsh king

Constantine, Greek emperor

Cordeilla, daughter of the mythical King Leir

Corineus, a Trojan warrior in Albion

Cornwall, southwest part of Britain

Cortana, Ogier's sword

Corybantes, priests of Cybele, or Rhea, in Phrygia, who

celebrated her worship with dances, to the sound of the drum and

the cymbal, 143

Crab, constellation

Cranes and their enemies, the Pygmies, of Ibycus

Creon, king of Thebes

Crete, one of the largest islands of the Mediterranean Sea, lying

south of the Cyclades

Creusa, daughter of Priam, wife of Aeneas

Crocale, a nymph of Diana

Cromlech, Druidical altar

Cronos, See Saturn

Crotona, city of Italy

Cuchulain, Irish hero, called the "Hound of Ireland,"

Culdees', followers of St. Columba, Cumaean Sibyl, seeress

of Cumae, consulted by Aeneas, sold Sibylline books to Tarquin

Cupid, child of Venus and god of love

Curoi of Kerry, wise man

Cyane, river, opposed Pluto's passage to Hades

Cybele (Rhea)

Cyclopes, creatures with circular eyes, of whom Homer speaks as a

gigantic and lawless race of shepherds in Sicily, who devoured

human beings, they helped Vulcan to forge the thunderbolts of Zeus

under Aetna

Cymbeline, king of ancient Britain

Cynosure (Dog's tail), the Pole star, at tail of Constellation

Ursa Minor

Cynthian mountain top, birthplace of Artemis (Diana) and Apollo

Cyprus, island off the coast of Syria, sacred to Aphrodite

Cyrene, a nymph, mother of Aristaeus

Daedalus, architect of the Cretan Labyrinth, inventor of sails

Daguenet, King Arthur's fool

Dalai Lama, chief pontiff of Thibet

Danae, mother of Perseus by Jupiter

Danaides, the fifty daughters of Danaus, king of Argos, who were

betrothed to the fifty sons of Aegyptus, but were commanded by

their father to slay each her own husband on the marriage night

Danaus (See Danaides)

Daphne, maiden loved by Apollo, and changed into a laurel tree

Dardanelles, ancient Hellespont

Dardanus, progenitor of the Trojan kings

Dardinel, prince of Zumara

Dawn, See Aurora

Day, an attendant on Phoebus, the Sun

Day star (Hesperus)

Death, See Hela

Deiphobus, son of Priam and Hecuba, the bravest brother of Paris

Dejanira, wife of Hercules

Delos, floating island, birthplace of Apollo and Diana

Delphi, shrine of Apollo, famed for its oracles

Demeter, Greek goddess of marriage and human fertility, identified

by Romans with Ceres

Demeha, South Wales