The Seven Champions having crossed the British Channel to France, and
traversed that lovely country, where they banqueted, to their heart's
content, on fricassees and ragouts, washed down by huge draughts of
Burgundy and claret, reached at length a broad plain where stood a
brazen pillar. Here seven ways met, and here the noble knights, with
many a flourish of their spears and not a few in their speeches, though
history does not record them, parted with expressions of mutual esteem,
to follow out with their faithful squires their separate adventures.
Saint George, accompanied only by the faithful De Fistycuff, at once
passed over to the coast of Africa, knowing full well that in that
unknown land of wonders he was more likely to meet with adventures
worthy of his prowess than in any other part of the world. He journeyed
on for many a mile over burning sands, his polished steel armour
glittering in the sun, striking terror into all beholders, and almost
blinding his poor squire, who, hot and panting, followed him wearily.
Far across the plains of Africa he travelled till he reached the very
ancient, though little known kingdom of Timbuctoo. King Bobadildo, the
sable monarch of that empire, so wonderfully renowned in its own annals,
if not in those of other countries, received him with all the courtesy
due to his rank as a British knight, and the renown which the faithful
De Fistycuff, who never lost an opportunity of putting in a good word
for his master, stated that he intended to acquire.
The Knight was feasted sumptuously, and magnificent shows were got up
for his entertainment, while the King, who had taken a great fancy to
him, from believing that he would be of great use in leading his
warriors to the fight against the enemies of his realm, pressed him to
remain, hoping that by his falling in love with his lovely daughter he
might be induced to become his son-in-law. The colour of the young
princess's complexion, which was of the most sable hue, shining
lustrously with palm oil, although much admired in her native country,
was to the British knight an insuperable objection to a closer alliance
than that of the friendship he enjoyed, though he did not say so; but
stated that he was anxious to go where glory awaited him, and that all
matrimonial arrangements he must defer till he had won that fame for
which his heart panted.
Accordingly, the next morning, followed by De Fistycuff, who had some
difficulty in buckling his belt after the good fare he had enjoyed, he
set forth from the southern gate of the capital towards the unknown
regions which lay beyond. The sweet Princess looked out of a turret
window, and waved her coal-black hand, while tears coursed each other
down her sable cheeks as she saw the Knight going away and leaving her
all forlorn; for in her bright eyes not one of the neighbouring princes,
nor any of her father's courtiers, could in any way be compared to the
gallant Saint George. Many other sweet princesses, at the various
courts he visited in his travels, held the same opinion--a circumstance
which caused a considerable amount of perplexity to the gentle-hearted
and gallant Knight. As she gazed she sighed, and then she sang words to
the following effect:--
"Go away, go away, oh, hard-hearted knight, Go away to glory and fame;
If you ever come back You'll not find me slack To change my state and
name!"
Much relieved by the impromptu expressions of her feelings, she turned
from the window, Saint George having disappeared among the distant
sand-heaps, and went to attend her honoured sire at his matutinal meal.
Saint George and his Squire travelled on day after day, mounting higher
and higher till they reached a region where the heat was no longer so
oppressive as in the plains, and where scenes new and beautiful opened
on their enravished sight.
There were beautiful lakes of the clearest water, full of fish of
strange shapes and gorgeous hues, which swam up to the surface, and
gazed with curious eyes at the strangers. The trees and shrubs were of
the most gigantic proportions, the former towering high into the sky,
and a single leaf affording ample shade to the Knight and Squire and
their horses. So luscious and luxuriant, too, was the grass that a few
tufts were sufficient for a meal for the noble steeds, and put such
strength and spirit into them, that, in spite of the fatigues they
underwent, they were ever ready for any task they might be called on to
perform. Even the shrubs were so high that they could ride beneath some
of them. Others were covered with leaves of such thickness that a spear
could scarcely pierce them, while they were armed with spikes of length
so formidable that it was dangerous to approach the branches, and
impossible to force a passage through them. Strange, too, were the
plants. Some were like a mass of twisting serpents which wriggled about
and hissed as the travellers passed, and though Saint George cut off
their heads with his sword, they so quickly again grew up that he
perceived that the attempt to destroy them was labour lost.
"So is it," he moralised, "with vicious propensities; the nature of the
plant must be changed, or the branches will spring forth, and evil fruit
will continually be produced." Other plants of the most fantastic
shapes and most lovely hues seemed endued with life. One covering a
wide circle of ground, and tinted with every colour of the rainbow, they
stopped to admire. Suddenly it darted forth feelers of great length
high into the air, and drew back hundreds of gay-coloured butterflies,
and moths, and beetles, which were flying near.
Numerous birds also of the most gorgeous plumage, which darted down,
attracted by the flies, were seized hold of and dragged within the
capacious mouth of the plant.
"On, on," cried Saint George, pricking forward his steed. "If we stop
to admire all these separate wonders we shall never attain the great
objects of our expedition." The Squire if he heard did not heed his
master, for he kept gazing at the proceedings of the strange plant, and
trying to count the number of insects it gobbled up in a minute.
Thoughtlessly he drew closer and closer, till suddenly the monster plant
darted forth all its feelers and grasped him round the body. He felt
himself dragged helplessly towards the capacious maw where he had
already seen so many creatures conveyed. "Oh, master, master! help,
help!" he shouted at the top of his voice, though a feeler getting round
his neck almost stopped his breath.
Saint George, seeing what had occurred, spurred back in hot haste, and,
slashing away with his trusty falchion, severed the feelers after vast
exertions and rescued his frightened squire.
"If you had done as I told you this would not have happened," he
observed, as he freed him from the thick masses of sinew which
surrounded his body. "Oh, De Fistycuff, remember to do right and what
you are bid by those who know best what is for your good, and then don't
fear the consequences; but never stand gazing at what is bad or
dangerous, and fancy that you run no risk of being drawn into the snare
laid for you!"
The Squire listened respectfully to his master's lecture, and then
followed him at a humble distance, resolving to profit by his advice.
Night with her sable wings was about to overspread the earth, and the
tall woods resounded with strangest cries, and shrieks, and hisses of
the wonderful wild animals which roamed through them, when the Knight
thought it high time to look about for some place of shelter, where,
free from their attacks, he and his squire might repose till the return
of the rosy dawn would enable them to discern their foes, and face them
bravely.
A large rock appeared before them. Within it was a cave with a rude
porch in front. In this rough habitation dwelt a hermit, whose voice
they heard bewailing the sad fate to which his country was doomed. The
Knight entered; a lamp stood on a table in the centre of the cave. The
hermit rose from his couch and welcomed Saint George and De Fistycuff.
He was a venerable man, with a long beard of silvery whiteness; and as
he tottered forward he seemed bowed almost to the ground with the weight
of years.
"Gladly will I afford you shelter and such food as my cell can furnish,
most gallant Knight," he said; and, suiting the action to the word, he
placed a variety of provisions on the table. "I need not inquire to
what country you belong, for I see by the arms of England engraven on
your burgonet whence you come. I know the knights of that land are
brave and gallant, and ready to do battle in aid of the distressed.
Here, then, you will find an opportunity for distinguishing yourself by
a deed which will make your name renowned throughout the world."
Saint George pricked up his ears at this, and eagerly inquired what it
was. "This, you must understand, most noble Knight, is the renowned
territory of Bagabornabou, second to none in the world in importance in
the opinion of its inhabitants. None was so prosperous, none so
flourishing, when a most horrible misfortune befell the land, in the
appearance of a terrific green dragon, of huge proportions, who ranges
up and down the country, creating devastation and dismay in every
direction. No corner of the land is safe from his ravages; no one can
hope to escape the consequences of his appearance. Every day his
insatiable maw must be fed with the body of a young maiden, while so
pestiferous is the breath which exhales from his throat that it causes a
plague of a character so violent that whole districts have been
depopulated by it. He commences his career of destruction at dawn every
morning, and till his victim is ready he continues to ravage the land.
When he has swallowed his lamentable repast he remains asleep till next
morning, and then he proceeds as before.
"Many attempts have been made to capture him during the night, but they
have proved as fruitless as trying to catch a weasel (if you happen to
have heard of such an animal, Saint George, in your travels) asleep.
Fruitless I will not say to him, for he has invariably destroyed the
brave men who have gone out to attack him, and has swallowed them for
his supper. For no less than twenty-four long years has this dreadful
infliction been suffered by our beloved country, till scarcely a maiden
remains alive, nor does a brave man continue in it. The most lovely and
perfect of her sex, the King's only daughter, the charming Sabra, is to
be made an offering to the fell dragon to-morrow, unless a knight can be
found gallant and brave enough to risk his life in mortal combat with
the monster, and with skill and strength sufficient to destroy him.
"The King has promised, in his royal word, that, should such a knight
appear and come off victorious, he will give him his daughter in
marriage and the crown of Bagabornabou at his decease."
"Ah!" exclaimed the English Knight, his whole countenance beaming with
satisfaction, "here is a deed to be done truly worthy of my prowess!
What think you of that, reverend hermit?" And he bared his breast,
exhibiting the portrait of the green dragon which had been marked there
at his birth.
"A circumstance ominous of deep import," observed the Hermit, nodding
his head; "either the green dragon will kill you, or you will kill the
green dragon."
"Now, by my halidom, but I fully purpose to kill the dragon and rescue
the Princess," cried the Knight, in a cheerful voice. "Won't we, my
brave De Fistycuff?"
"What men dare they can do," answered the Squire, nodding his head, for
he was very sleepy.
Accordingly, the hermit having prepared couches of leaves, the Knight
and his attendant rested till the cheerful cock, true messenger of day,
gave notice that the sun was about to uprise from his sandy bed. Then,
springing to his feet after a hurried meal, aided by his squire and the
trembling fingers of the hermit, he carefully buckled on his armour, and
mounting his richly caparisoned steed, he declared himself ready for the
combat. Followed by De Fistycuff, and preceded by the hermit on a mule,
who went to show the way, he proceeded to the valley where the dragon
was asleep, and where the King's daughter was to be offered up as a
sacrifice.
As he came in sight of it his eyes rested on one of the sweetest and
most lovely maidens he had ever beheld, arrayed in pure white Arabian
silk, and led to the place of death by a numerous band of sage and
modest matrons, who mourned with bitter tears her hard fate.
This melancholy spectacle still further stimulated the overflowing
courage of the English Knight, so spurring on towards the mourning
group, he assured the lovely maiden that he was prepared to battle
bravely in her cause, and entreated her to return to her father's court
till the result of the coming contest became known.
"He'll do it if it is to be done," observed De Fistycuff, wishing to add
his mite of consolation to the ladies' hearts, and pointing to his
master, who had ridden slowly on; and having thus delivered himself he
spurred after him.
The daring Knight and his faithful squire now entered the valley where
the terrific green dragon had his abode. No sooner did the fiery eyes
of the hideous monster fall on the steel-clad warrior, instead of the
fair maiden he expected to see, than from his leathern throat he sent
forth a cry of rage louder and more tremendous than thunder, and
arousing himself he prepared for the contest about to occur. As he
reared up on his hind legs, with his wings outspread, and his long scaly
tail, with a huge red fork, extending far away behind him, his sharp
claws wide open, each of the size of a large ship's anchor, his gaping
mouth armed with double rows of huge teeth, between which appeared a
fiery red tongue, and vast eyes blazing like burning coals, while his
nostrils spouted forth fire, and the upper part of his body was covered
with glittering green scales brighter than polished silver, and harder
than brass, the under part being of a deep golden hue, his appearance
might well have made even one of the bravest of men unwilling to attack
him.
Saint George trembled not, but thought of the lovely Sabra, and nerved
himself for the encounter. De Fistycuff did not like his looks, and had
he been alone would have been tempted to beat a retreat, but his love
for his master kept him by his side.
"See," said the Hermit, who had come thus far, "there is the dragon! He
is a monster huge and horrible; but I believe that, like other monsters,
by bravery and skill he can be overcome. See, the valley is full of
fruit-trees! Should he wound you, and should you faint, you will find
one bearing oranges of qualities so beneficial, that, should you be able
to procure one plucked fresh from the tree, it will instantly revive
you. Now, farewell! See, the brute is approaching!"
"Remember," cried Saint George, turning to De Fistycuff, "this fight is
to be all my own. You stand by and see fair play. Only, if I am down,
and the brute dares to hit me, then rush in to my rescue." The faithful
squire nodded his assent.
On came the monster dragon, flapping his wings, spouting fire from his
nostrils, and roaring loudly with his mouth. Saint George couched his
sharp spear, and spurring his steed, dashed onward to the combat. So
terrific was the shock that the Knight was almost hurled from his
saddle, while his horse, driven back on his haunches, lay, almost
crushed, beneath the monster's superincumbent weight; but both man and
steed extricating themselves with marvellous agility, Saint George made
another thrust of his spear, with all his might, against the scaly
breast of the dragon. He might as well have struck against a gate of
brass.
In a moment the stout spear was shivered into a thousand fragments, and
the dragon uttered a loud roar of derision. At the same time, to show
what he could do, he whisked round his venomous pointed tail with so
rapid a movement that he brought both man and horse sorely bruised to
the ground.
There they lay, almost senseless from the blow, while the dragon
retreated backward some hundred paces or more, with the intention of
coming back with greater force than before, and completing the victory
he had almost won. Happily De Fistycuff divined the monster's purpose,
and seeing one of the orange-trees of which the hermit had spoken, he
picked an orange and hurried with it to his master.
Scarcely had the Knight tasted it than he felt his strength revive, and
leaping to his feet, he gave the remainder of it to his trusty steed, on
whose back instantly mounting, he stood prepared, with his famous sword
Ascalon in his hand, to receive the furious charge which the dragon was
about to make.
Though his spear had failed him at a pinch, his trusty falchion was true
as ever; and making his horse spring forward, he struck the monster such
a blow on his golden-coloured breast that the point entered between the
scales, inflicting a wound which made it roar with pain and rage.
Slight, however, was the advantage which the Knight thereby gained, for
there issued forth from the wound so copious a stream of black gore,
with an odour so terrible, that it drove him back, almost drowning him
and his brave steed, while the noxious fumes, entering their nostrils,
brought them both fainting and helpless to the ground.
De Fistycuff, mindful of his master's commands, narrowly eyed the
dragon, to see what he was about to do. Staunching his wound with a
touch of his fiery tail, he flapped his green wings, roaring hoarsely,
and shook his vast body, preparatory to another attack on the Knight.
"Is that it?" cried the Squire; and running to the orange-tree, whence
he plucked a couple of the golden fruit, he poured the juice of one down
the throat of his master, and of the other down that of Bayard. Both
revived in an instant, and Saint George, springing on Bayard's back,
felt as fresh and ready for the fight as ever. Both had learned the
importance of avoiding the dragon's tail, and when he whisked it on one
side Bayard sprang to the other, and so on backwards and forwards,
nimbly avoiding the blows aimed by the venomous instrument at him or his
rider.
Again and again the dragon reared itself up, attempting to drop down and
crush his gallant assailant; but Bayard, with wonderful sagacity
comprehending exactly what was to be done, sprung backwards or aside
each time the monster descended, and thus avoided the threatened
catastrophe. Still the dragon appeared as able as ever to endure the
combat. Saint George saw that a strenuous effort must be made, and
taking a fresh grasp of Ascalon, he spurred onward to meet the monster,
who once more advanced, with outstretched wings, with the full purpose
of destroying him. This time Saint George kept his spurs in the horse's
flanks. "Death or victory must be the result of this charge," he
shouted to De Fistycuff.
With Ascalon's bright point kept well before him, he drove directly at
the breast of the monster. The sword struck him under the wing; through
the thick flesh it went, and nothing stopped it till it pierced the
monster's heart. Uttering a loud groan, which resounded through the
neighbouring woods and mountains, and made even the wild beasts tremble
with consternation, the furious green dragon fell over on its side, when
Saint George, drawing his falchion from the wound, dashed on over the
prostrate form of the monster, and, ere it could rise to revenge itself
on its destroyer, with many a blow he severed the head from the body.
So vast was the stream which flowed forth from the wound that the whole
valley speedily became a lake of blood, and the river which ran down
from it first gave notice, by its sanguineous hue, to the inhabitants of
the neighbouring districts that the noble Champion of England had slain
their long tormenting enemy.
The victorious Knight now refreshed himself and his steed with a couple
of the oranges which De Fistycuff brought him, and which completely
restored them to the vigour with which they began the combat. He then
stuck the huge head of the once terrific dragon on a truncheon, which
was formed by his faithful Squire out of the handle of the spear, the
head of which had been shivered against the scaly sides of the monster
at the commencement of the combat.
Having delivered the trophy of his prowess to De Fistycuff, to be borne
before him, he rode on towards the capital of the kingdom, where he
expected to be welcomed by the lovely Sabra, to be received by the
sovereign and his people as a conqueror, to have heard all the bells in
the empire ringing, and to have seen every house illuminated, and
bonfires blazing in every street. He had to learn the bitter lesson
that success frequently only creates enemies and detractors.
Now, there was residing at the court of King Battabolo, the sovereign of
Bagabornabou, Almidor, the black King of Morocco, who had long in vain
sought the hand of the Princess Sabra. For many reasons she could not
abide him; and now, when he heard of the successful combat of Saint
George with the dragon, he knew that he should have less chance than
ever of winning her love. With baseness unparalleled he resolved to
make one desperate effort to gain her. Accordingly, he, by the most
extensive promises, engaged the services of twelve warriors of renown to
waylay the British Champion, in order to deprive him of his trophy and
of his life, intending to present himself before the fair Sabra, and to
boast that he had himself destroyed the dragon.
Passing through a narrow defile, Saint George beheld the twelve African
knights flourishing their swords, and prepared to intercept his
progress.
"Take charge of Bayard," quoth he to De Fistycuff; "I'll meet these
recreants sword in hand on foot." Thus speaking, he drew Ascalon from
the scabbard, and advanced towards his foes. From the narrowness of the
defile only three could engage in the fight at once. Sharply clashed
the steel. Loud rang their swords upon his polished armour; but Ascalon
soon found an entrance through their coats of mail, and one after the
other fell breathless to the ground. Three more then came on; but
standing on the bodies of the prostrate steeds, he with one stroke of
his falchion severed their heads from their bodies, which rolled over in
the ensanguined dust. With three equal downward strokes he cut in two,
from the crown to the saddle, the next three which advanced, while the
remainder turning to fly, he pierced them with Ascalon ignominiously
through the back.
Almidor had all the time stood on the summit of a mountain hard by to
witness the defeat of the British Champion; but when he saw that instead
he remained victor of the field, he hastened back to the city to
announce the death of the dragon by the sword of the strange Knight.
Pen might fail to do justice to the magnificent preparations made to do
honour to the brave Champion who had conquered the Green Dragon. As he
approached the city he was met by a sumptuous chariot of massive gold,
drawn by fifty milk-white steeds; the wheels were of the purest ebony,
and the covering was of silk embossed with gold. On either side rode a
hundred of the noblest peers of Bagabornabou, attired in crimson velvet,
and mounted on chargers of the same pure colour as those which drew the
chariot. Stepping into the chariot, while De Fistycuff led Bayard with
one hand, and carried aloft the dragon's head with the other, he entered
the city amid strains of delicious and martial music, and beneath
banners and embroidered tapestry and rich arras waving from every
window, from which looked down thousands of bright eyes to admire him.
But none were so bright as those of the beauteous Sabra, who welcomed
him in a rich pavilion prepared for his reception, where he laid at her
feet the trophies of his prowess; and as she gazed at the dragon's
monstrous jaws she shuddered to think that she might have had to go down
them, and felt her gratitude and eke a warmer feeling increase for the
gallant stranger who had preserved her from a fate so terrible.
Here all the first physicians in the land stood around with precious
salves to dress his wounds, and administer specifics against the effects
of the dragon's poisonous breath and venom. The Knight, having
requested that they might all be left by his bed-side, and that he might
be left alone, aided by De Fistycuff, emptied them all out of the
window, and having declared himself next morning infinitely better,
thereby gained immense popularity among the disciples of Aesculapius,
who each rested under the pleasing belief that his own nostrum had
worked the cure.