"It is very meet to come with such a gift before me, but of such I have
no need. Give it, therefore, to the poor, who cry for alms. Right
willingly will I baptize the children, and may the Father, the Son and
the Holy Ghost ever fold them close in the love of the Holy Trinity."
So at that one time the Apostle baptized the two children in St.
Saviour's Church, and he gave to the son of the Count of Alverne the
name of Amile, and to the son of the Chatelain of Castle Bericain gave
he the name of Amis. Many a knight of Rome held them at the font, and
answered in their name as god-parents, according to the will of God.
Then, when the Sacrament of Baptism was at an end, the Apostle
commanded to be brought two wooden cups, fair with gold and set with
costly stones, of one workmanship, size and fashion, and these he
handed to the children, saying--
"Take this gift in witness that I have baptized you in St. Saviour's
Church."
So the knights received the cups with great joy, and rendered him
grace for his gift, and parting from thence repaired each to his own
home in all comfort and solace.
To the child of the Knight of Bericain God also gave a gift, the gift
of such wise understanding that men might almost believe that he was
another Solomon.
When Amis was of the age of thirty years a fever seized upon his
father, and he began to admonish his son in words such as these--
"Fair, dear son, my end is near at hand, but thou shalt tarry for a
season, and be thine own lord. Firstly, fair son, observe the
commandments of God, and be of the chivalry of Jesus Christ. Keep faith
with thy overlords, and turn not thy back on thy companions and thy
friends. Defend the widow and the orphan; be pitiful to the captive and
to all in need; think every day upon that day which shall be thy last.
Forsake not the society and friendship of the son of the Count of
Alverne, for the Apostle of Rome baptized you together on one day, and
graced you with one gift. Are you not alike in all things--in beauty,
in comeliness, and in strength, so that whosoever sees you, thinks you
to be sons of one mother?"
Having spoken these words, he was houselled of the priest, and died in
our Lord; and his son gave him fitting burial, and paid him all such
service as is meetly required for the dead.
After the death of his father divers evil persons wrought Amis much
mischief, because of the envy they felt towards him; but nevertheless
he bore them no ill will, and patiently suffered all the wrong and
malice that they did. Let me tell you, then, without more words, that
such was his case that he and his servants were cast forth from the
heritage of his fathers, and driven from the gate of his own keep. But
when he had called to mind the words of his father, he said to those
who journeyed with him in the way--
"The wicked have spoiled me wrongfully of my inheritance, yet have I
good hope that the Lord is on my side. Come now, let us seek the Court
of Count Amile, my comrade and my friend. Peradventure he will give us
of his goods and lands; but if not, then will we gather to Hildegarde,
the Queen, wife of King Charles of France, the stay and support of the
disinherited."
So those of his company made answer that they would follow where he
led, and would serve him as his men. They rode, therefore, to the court
of the Count, but might not find him, for reason that he had passed to
Bericain to comfort Amis, his companion, because of the death of his
father. When Amile might not find Amis, he departed from the castle,
greatly vexed, and resolved within himself that he would not solace
himself in his own fief until he had met with Amis, his friend.
Therefore he rode on this quest through France and Allemaigne, seeking
news of him from all his kindred, but finding none.
Now Amis, together with his company, for his part sought diligently for
Amile his friend, until it chanced that on a day a certain lord gave
him harbourage, and at his bidding Amis told him of this adventure.
Then said the nobleman--
"Dwell ye with me, sir knights, and I will give my daughter to your
lord, because of the wisdom men report of him, and you, for your own
part, shall be made rich in silver, in gold and in lands."
They rejoiced greatly at his word, and the wedding feast was celebrated
with marvellous joy. But when they had tarried in that place for one
year and six months, Amis called together his ten companions and spake
to them.
"We are recreant, inasmuch as we have forgotten all this while to seek
for Amile."
So he left two men-at-arms, together with his precious cup, and set
forth towards Paris.
Now for the space of nearly two years Amile had sought for Amis without
pause or rest. Drawing near to Paris he lighted upon a pilgrim and
asked of him if perchance he knew aught of Amis, whom evil men had
hunted from his lands. The palmer said "Nay," wherefore Amile divested
himself of his cloak, and gave it to the pilgrim, saying--
"Pray thou to our Lord and His saints for me that they give me grace to
meet Amis, my friend."
So he saluted the pilgrim, and went his way to Paris, seeking in every
place for news of Amis his friend, and finding none. But the pilgrim,
passing swiftly upon his road, came upon Amis about the hour of
vespers, and they saluted each the other. Then Amis inquired of the
palmer whether he had seen or heard, in any land or realm, aught of
Amile, the son of the Count of Alverne.
"What manner of man art thou," answered the palmer all astonied, "that
thou makest mock of a pilgrim? Thou seemest to me that very Amile who
but this morn sought of me if I had seen Amis, his friend. I know not
for what reason thou hast changed thine apparel, thy company, thy
horses and thy arms, nor why thou askest of me the same question thou
didst require at nine hours of the morn when thou gavest me this
cloak."
"Be not angry with me," said Amis, "for I am not the man you deem; but
I am Amis who searches for his friend Amile."
So he gave him money from his pouch, and prayed him that he would
require of our Lord that He might grant him grace to find Amile.
"Hasten quickly to Paris," said the pilgrim, "and there shalt thou
find him whom so fondly thou seekest."
So Amis hastened instantly to the city.
It chanced upon the morrow that Amile departed from Paris, and took his
ease within a daisied meadow near by the pleasant waters of the Seine.
Whilst he ate there with his knights there came that way Amis with his
men-at-arms. So Amile and his company armed themselves forthwith, and
rode forth before them at adventure. Then Amis said to his companions--
"Behold these French knights who seek to do us a mischief. Stand
stoutly together, and so shall we defend our lives. If we but escape
this peril soon shall we be within the walls of Paris, and sweetly
shall we be entreated at the palace of the King."
Then drew the two companies together with loosened rein, with lance in
rest, and with brandished sword, in such fashion that it seemed as if
none might escape alive from the fury of that onset. But God, the all
powerful, Who knoweth all, and bringeth to a good end the travail of
the just, suffered not that spears should meet in that encounter. So
when they were near at hand Amis cried aloud--
"Who are you, knights, that are so eager to slay Amis the Banished and
his companions?"
When Amile heard these words he knew well the voice of Amis, his
comrade, so he answered him--
"Oh thou, Amis, most dear, sweet as rest to my labour, know me for
Amile, son of the Count of Alverne, who have not given over my quest
for thee these two whole years."
Then forthwith they lighted from their steeds, and clasped and kissed
each the other, giving grace to God Who granteth the treasure to the
seeker. Moreover, upon the guard of Amile's sword, wherein was set a
holy relic, they swore faith, and friendship, and fellowship to death,
the one with the other. So set they forth from that place, riding
together to the Court of Charles, the King of France. There they moved
amongst the lords, young, discreet and wise, fair to see, shapen
wondrously alike in form and face, beloved of all men and held of all
in honour. There, too, the King received them with much courtesy,
making of Amis his treasurer, and to Amile gave he the office of
seneschal.
In this fashion they tarried long with the King, but at the end of
three years Amis said to Amile--
"Fair, sweet companion, I desire greatly to see my wife, whom I have
left so long. Stay thou at Court, and for my part I will return so soon
as I may. But have thou no dealings with the daughter of the King, and,
more than all, beware and keep thee from the malice of Arderay the
felon knight."
"I will observe thy bidding," answered Amile, "but make no long
tarrying from my side."
On these words Amis departed from the Court; but Amile for his part saw
with his eyes that the daughter of the King was fair, and knew the
princess, in love, as soon as he was able. Thus the commandment and the
warning of Amis, his companion, passed quickly from his mind; yet think
not too hardly of the young man, forasmuch that he was not more holy
than David, nor wiser than Solomon, David's son.
Whilst Amile was busied with these matters there came to him Arderay,
the traitor, full of envy, and said--
"Thou dost not know, comrade, thou dost not know that Amis has stolen
gold from the King's treasury, and therefore hath he taken flight.
Since things are thus I require that you swear to me fealty of
friendship and of brotherhood, and I will swear to you the like oath on
the holy Gospels."
Having pledged such troth as this, Amile feared not to betray his
secret to the felon knight. Now when Amile bore bason and ewer to the
King, that he might wash his hands, then said that false Arderay to his
lord--
"Take no water from the hands of this recreant, Sir King, for he is
worthier of death than of life, since he has plucked from the Queen's
daughter the flower of her maidenhood."
When Amile heard this thing he was so fearful that he fell upon the
floor, and answered not a word, so that the courteous King raised him
to his feet, and said--
"Have no fear, Amile, but stand up and acquit thee of this blame."