Sweet Jesus, what brave warfare doth he make, and how nobly doth he
joust, whose feet devoutly seek the church where the Divine Office is
rendered, and who assists at the holy mysteries of Him, the spotless
Son of the Mother Maid. For this cause will I tell you a certain story,
even as it was told to me, for a fair ensample.
There was once a knight, esteemed of all as a wise and courteous lord,
stout and of great valour, who dearly loved and honoured the Virgin
Mary. The fame of this knight was bruited about all chivalry; so to
make proof alike of lisping squire and burly man-at-arms, he set forth
to a tourney, together with a strong company. Now by the will of God it
chanced that when the day of the tournament was come he fared speedily
towards the field, because he would be first at the breaking of the
spears. Near by the road was builded a little church, and the bells
thereof rang loud and clear to call men to the singing of the holy
Mass. So without doubt or hesitation this knight dismounted at the
door, and entered within the church to hearken to the service of God.
At an altar therein a priest chanted meetly and with reverence a Mass
of the holy Virgin Mary. Then another Mass was begun, the good knight
yet kneeling devoutly on his knees, and praying our Lady with an
earnest heart. When the second Mass came to its appointed end,
straightway a third Mass was commenced, forthwith and in the selfsame
place.
"Sir, by the holy Body of God," said the squire to his lord, "the hour
to tourney hurries by. Why tarry you here? Depart from hence, I pray
you. Let us keep to our own trade, lest men deem you hermit or
hypocrite, or monk without the cowl!"
"Friend," answered the knight, "most worshipfully doth he tourney who
hearkens to the service of God upon his knees. When the Masses are
altogether at an end, we will go upon our way. Till then, please God,
part from here will I not. But so that all are said, then will I joust
to the very utmost of my might, according to the will of God."
With these words the knight refrained from further speech, and turning
himself again towards the altar took refuge in the holy liturgy, till
the last prayer came to a close with the last chant. Then they got to
horse, as was their bounden duty, and rode with speed towards that
place where the lists were set for the great play. So, presently, the
knights who were returning from the tournament, discomfited and
overborne, met him who had carried off all the prizes of the game. They
saluted the knight who was on his way from the Divine Offerings, and,
joining themselves to his company, praised him to his face, affirming
that never before had knight done such feats of arms as he had wrought
that day, to his undying fame. Moreover many amongst them drew near and
yielded themselves his captives, saying--
"We are your prisoners, for truly we may not deny that you have
overthrown us in the field."
Then, taking thought, the knight was amazed no more, for quickly he
perceived that She had been upon his business in the press, about whose
business he had been within the chapel.
So he called these knights and his fellowship around him, and said
right courteously--
"I pray you, one and all, to hearken to my words, for I have that to
tell you which never has been heard of ears."
Then he told over to them, word for word, how that he had not jousted
in the tournament, neither had broken lance nor hung shield about his
neck, by reason of those Masses he had heard, but verily he believed
that the Maiden, whom humbly he had besought within the chapel, had
worn his harness in the lists. "Altogether lovely in my eyes is this
tournament wherein She has done my devoir; but very foully shall I
requite such gracious service if I seek another Lady, or in my folly
return to the vanities of the world. Therefore I pledge my word to God
in truth, that henceforth I will never fight, save in that tourney
where He sits, the one true Judge, Who knows the loyal knight, and
recompenses him according to his deeds."
Then he bade them farewell right piteously, and many of his company
wept tenderly as they took their leave. But he, parting from them, went
his way to an abbey, to become the servant of the Handmaid of the Lord,
and to follow in that path which leadeth to a holy end.
So, clearly we may perceive from this ensample, that the gracious God,
in Whom we put our faith, loves, cherishes, and delights to honour that
man who gladly tarries before His holy altar at the offering of the
Mass, and who willingly serves His Mother, so gentle and so dear. Of
much profit is this custom, and he who is quiet in the land and wise,
will always continue to walk in the way his feet were set in youth,
yea, even to that time when he is old and grey-headed.