Now it happened that the great Emperor of the East held a grand
tournament at Constantinople, to which all the knights and nobles of
Christendom were invited, to do honour to his nuptials with a princess
he was about to wed. Thither came the Seven Champions, not knowing each
other after their long separation, but each believing the others in some
distant quarter of the globe. The Emperor had, however, pitched seven
tents of seven different colours, wherein the Seven Champions might
remain till the sound of the silver trumpets summoned them to appear.
Seven days the tournament was to last, and each day a different Knight
was to be Champion of the field.
The first day, Saint Denis of France, under the title of the Golden
Knight, was the Champion. His tent was of the colour of the celandine,
and on the summit flamed a sun of wondrous brilliancy.
His horse, an iron grey, was graced with a plume of gold-bespangled
feathers. Before him rode the faithful Le Crapeau, bearing his banner,
on which was designed the golden _fleur-de-lys_. Numberless were the
foreign knights with whom he tilted, every one of whom he overthrew.
Next day, Saint James of Spain, habited in silver armour, rode forth as
the Champion; his Squire, the faithful Pedrillo, bearing aloft four
banners, on each of which were inscribed his names and titles, and those
of his ancestors, so that not a spot of silk remained uncovered. Well
he behaved himself, to the admiration of all beholders.
Clad in blue steel, and called the Azure Knight, on the third day, Saint
Anthony of Italy rode forth as the chief Champion, attended by the
faithful Niccolo, bearing his standard, an eagle on a field of blue.
Above his tent was a smaller pavilion in the shape of a watch-tower, in
which was seated, as spectatress of the fights, the Georgian Princess,
the strong-minded Rosalinde, who had, by praiseworthy perseverance, and
allowing no trifles to stand in her way, completely won the heart of
Saint Anthony, and had become his bride. Well, also, did he, the
Italian Champion, acquit himself, and many valiant knights were by his
spear unhorsed.
On the fourth day, Saint Andrew of Scotland was the chief Challenger for
the tournament. His tent was framed in the manner of a ship swimming on
the waves of the sea, environed about with dolphins, tritons, and many
strangely-contrived mermaids; on the top stood a figure of Neptune, the
god of the sea, bearing in his hand a streamer, whereon, in one corner,
was wrought a cross in crimson silk. He was called the Red Knight, for
a blood-red cloth completely covered his charger. His worthy
achievements obtained such favour in the Emperor's eyes, that he threw
him his silver gauntlet, which was prized at a thousand portagues, and
the which Murdoch McAlpine, lifting it from the ground, bore with no
little satisfaction to his master's tent; where the Champion also
retired, and after his noble encounters enjoyed a sweet repose.
The fifth day, Saint Patrick of Ireland, as chief Champion, entered the
lists, mounted on an Irish hobby, covered with a green veil. He was
attended by the faithful Terence O'Grady, in sylvan habit, bearing on
his shoulder a blooming tree, his motto, _virtus semper viret_. His
tent resembled a summer bower, formed chiefly of the shamrock, and
beautified with wreaths of roses. He was named the Green Knight; but he
was green only in name, for no Knight proved himself more accomplished,
or performed nobler deeds.
Upon the sixth day, the famed Champion of Wales entered the lists,
mounted on a Tartar steed, which was covered with a black cloth, to
signify, as Owen ap Rice made known, that a black and tragical day was
this for all Knights of every nation who durst approve his fortitude.
On his shield was portrayed a silver griffin rampant, and upon a golden
helmet, the ancient arms of Britain. His tent was in the form of a
castle, the battlements guarded by numerous sturdy men-at-arms. His
princely achievements not only obtained due commendations at the
Emperor's hands, but all the fair and high-born dames present (so the
faithful Owen ever afterwards averred) applauded him as the most noble
Knight that ever shivered lance, and the most fortunate Champion that
ever appeared at the Court of the Eastern Emperor.
Upon the seventh and last day, Saint George of England entered the lists
as chief Challenger, mounted on a sable-coloured steed, betrapped with
bars of burnished gold, and whose forehead was beautiful with a gorgeous
plume of purple feathers, from whence hung many pendants of gold. The
Knight's armour was of the purest steel inlaid with silver; his helmet
was richly adorned with pearls and many precious stones; and on his
banner, borne before him by the faithful De Fistycuff, was pictured, on
a blood-red field, a lion rampant, bearing three crowns upon his head.
His tent, white as the feathers of the swan, was supported by figures of
four elephants of purest brass. Before it stood an ivory chariot,
guarded by twelve coal-black negroes, and in it sat his lovely bride,
the Princess Sabra, spectatress of the tournament. All eyes turned
towards the English Champion, to gaze and admire. His steed bore him
right nobly, and never gave encounter to any knight but both man and
horse were speedily hurled helpless to the ground. That day the
tournament lasted from the sun's up-rising till the evening star
appeared, during which time he conquered five hundred of the hardiest
knights of Asia, and shivered a thousand lances, to the admiration of
all beholders.
The tournament being over, the Emperor sent to Saint George's tent a
golden tree with seven branches, to be divided equally among the seven
foreign Champions. There they all assembled; and what was their
astonishment, when they removed their casques, to discover that they
were the long parted and ancient comrades! Warmly they grasped each
other's hands, and talked and laughed right pleasantly. High revelry,
also, did they hold that evening in Saint George's tent, and told each
other of their adventures, exploits, and achievements. Jovially they
quaffed full golden beakers of rosy in wine, and many a jovial song they
sang, and many a tale they told. All inquired who the lady could be who
had been seen on the summit of Saint Anthony's tent; when he confessed
that the strong-minded Princess Rosalinde of Georgia had won his heart
and hand.
"She, then, is sister of the six lovely Princesses I had the happiness
of being instrumental in turning from swans into young ladies. Your
bride will be glad to hear that they appeared none the worse for their
transformation!" exclaimed Saint Andrew.
"Ah! you do not know, then, what happened after you left the country, my
cousin of Scotland!" cried Saint Patrick. "Ha! ha! ha! They all set
off to follow you, unknown to their father. I met them in a wood with
their six maidens, wandering alone, and had the satisfaction of rescuing
them from the power of some unpleasant enemies, among whom they had
fallen. I thought they would have found you out before now."
"No, indeed, I have escaped them hitherto," answered Saint Andrew,
rubbing his hands. "One of them might have persuaded me to marry her,
and that would not at all have suited me. I intend to remain a bachelor
for many a year to come."
"I wonder you did not offer to marry one of them, at least, my brave
Irish friend," observed Saint Anthony; "it would have been but in
accordance with the acknowledged gallantry of your countrymen. I, too,
should have been glad to have hailed you as a brother-in-law."
"Faith! so I would have married one or all of them, if it hadn't been
from the difficulty of making a selection, and hurting the feelings of
the rest; for a more amiable collection of young ladies I never set eyes
on; so I gave them a little chariot I had got, drawn by a few alligators
and hippopotami, and advised them to go quietly back to their father's
court, instead of gadding about the world as they were then doing.
Whether or not they took my advice I cannot say, for when they went
north I turned my horse's head, and, with my faithful Squire, rode away
south."
Many other similar adventures to these were told by the old comrades, of
which there is no space to tell.
But if the Knights were merry, much more so were their Squires.
Joyfully they discovered each other, and agreed to meet together in the
tent of the faithful De Fistycuff. Right jovial was the meeting, and
huge the amount of the viands they consumed, and innumerable the beakers
of Samian and Falernian wine they quaffed. Merry the stories they told
of their numberless adventures, and facetious the songs they sang. Each
Squire boasted loudly of the deeds of his master, and of the country to
which he belonged; but no one boasted louder than did the faithful Owen
ap Rice, of Saint David especially, and of his own loved country, Wales.
Terence O'Grady was not much behind him in that respect; while Murdoch
McAlpine declared that Saint Andrew was one of the best of masters, and
that if Scotland was not the finest and the largest country in the
world, it was, at all events, the one he loved the best, just because it
was Scotland and his native land.
"Your hand, old comrade," exclaimed De Fistycuff, springing up, "that's
the very reason why I like Merrie England. She has her faults, I'll
allow; but though I've wandered nearly all the world around, there's no
country in my mind to be compared to her, and with all her faults I love
her still."
"Bah!" exclaimed Le Crapeau, "she is not equal to _la belle_ France, at
all events."
"Inferior to Italy, without doubt. Look, what noble people the ancient
Romans were!" observed Niccolo, swallowing a handful of macaroni.
"The idea of comparing a little island to a magnificent territory like
Spain!" cried Pedrillo. "Why, we were civilised, and a province of
Rome, while the British were painted barbarians, unknown to all the rest
of the world."
Thus they disputed, but all in good humour, and many a joke was bartered
on the subject. All things terrestrial must come to an end, and so did,
at length, the Knights' banquet and the Squires' jovial supper.
The next day, scarcely had the Champions arisen from their downy
couches, whereon they had rested their weary limbs, after the fatigues
of the numberless combats in which they had been engaged, when it was
announced that six foreign Princesses, of great beauty, had arrived in
the capital, and had been witnesses of the tournament, in disguise.
Some said they had come in one way, some in another; and among other
descriptions of the mode in which they travelled, it was asserted that
they came in a chariot, drawn by twelve tame alligators and as many
hippopotami.
"The Georgian Princesses, a crown against a baubee!" exclaimed Saint
Andrew, starting up from his couch. "Murdoch, go and find out, with all
speed, and if it is the case, get ready our steeds and baggage without
delay, or one of these strong-minded young ladies will be insisting on
accompanying me to my ancestral halls in bonnie Scotland."
"They've run their game to earth; there's no doubt about it," cried
Saint Patrick, who had been fond of sporting in his youth, when he heard
the news. "They deserve our brushes for their pains; and one thing must
be said in their favour, that they are very pretty young women, and not
at all afflicted with the ordinary prejudices and bashfulness which
stands in the way of so many young ladies in finding themselves
comfortable establishments. What say you, Terence? Don't you think
that I might go further and fare worse?"
"Ah! faith! noble Master, that you might, unless, mark me, you get back
to old Ireland; and there it isn't much difficulty I'd have in finding
many a score of sweet creatures, to whom, it's my belief, these Georgian
Princesses couldn't hold a candle."
The mention of his fair countrywomen (of whom Saint Patrick was a warm
admirer, and who is not who knows them?) artfully thrown in by his
Squire, turned the Knight from the intention he began to entertain of
making one of the Princesses his bride.
When the Seven Champions met at breakfast, they talked the matter over
with due gravity. They recollected that there were six ladies and only
five bachelor knights, two only being benedicts.
"But suppose we five were to marry five of the Princesses, one still
would be like puss in the corner--she must be left out," observed Saint
Andrew, who was evidently the least inclined of any of the party to wed,
and had arranged to start away directly after breakfast.
"Oh! one must become a nun," observed Saint Patrick. "It's a mighty
pleasant sort of life to those who don't like work, and are fond of
being utterly useless."
Scarcely was the breakfast over than the Champions were summoned into
the presence of the Emperor; and there, seated around him, were the six
Princesses of Georgia, radiant in beauty, and looking bewitching and
killing in the extreme.
"Fair ladies, and right noble strong-minded Princesses, here are the
Seven Champions of Christendom. It has come to our imperial knowledge
that you have left the Court of my brother of Georgia, your royal
father, for the purpose of wedding one, if not more, of these right
valorous Champions, for in that matter there seems to be some little
difficulty. Make your choice, therefore, most strong-minded Princesses;
whom will you wed? For, from the observations I have made of these
Knights' gallantry, I can pledge my imperial word that they will not
refuse your moderate and modest requests."
Now, the six Princesses, on hearing these words, looked unutterable
things, and a roseate hue rushed into their lily-like cheeks; but their
eyes did not wander up and down the hall among the Knights, for, with a
constancy worthy of all admiration and imitation, they fixed them on
Saint Andrew.
"He is the Knight who changed us from swans into maidens, he is the
Knight, for love of whom we left our father's home, and in search of
whom we wandered, all forlorn, the world up and down, and with him alone
do any of us wish to wed."
"Well spoken, fair Princesses," observed the Emperor. "That much
circumscribes the question, and decreases the difficulty. Which of you
desires to wed with the gallant Christian Knight? For, remember, that
only one wife can he have, whatever may be the custom in Asia."
Saint Andrew, who had never feared mortal foe or foes, giants, wild
beasts, or evil spirits, began at these words to tremble in his shoes,
and to regret that he had not recommenced his travels by daybreak.
The strong-minded Princesses all sat looking at him.
"I'm the one to marry him," cried the eldest.
The Champion's heart began to sink within him.
"I'm the one to marry him," cried the second.
"But I'm the one to marry him," cried the third.
"But I say that I'm the one to marry him," cried the fourth.
"But I declare that I'm the one to marry him," cried the fifth.
"You are all wrong!" exclaimed the sixth. "From the very first I am
sure that it was understood clearly that I was to be his wife."
"Stay, sweet Princesses," observed the Emperor, calmly, "I see clearly
that there has been some slight misunderstanding among you about this
matter, and I am sure Saint Andrew is too gallant a Knight to desire to
make any five of you unhappy, or jealous of the sixth. I, therefore,
purpose to send you all back, under a proper escort, to your father's
court, and I hope that you will there speedily find six noble knights to
lead you to the altar of Hymen."
The six strong-minded Princesses made very long faces at the decision of
the Emperor; but, as his decisions were always final, they could make no
reply; though, when they once more turned their eyes towards the
Scottish Knight, the spectators could not but remark that their
expression was very much changed, and Saint Andrew evidently thought it
wise to keep at a respectful distance from their fingers.
"Certes, Master," whispered Murdoch to Saint Andrew, "you are, to my
belief, very well out of it."
"It's a mighty easy way of settling the matter," said Terence O'Grady,
"but I wonder what the six serving maids are to do!"
History reports, however, that they went back to Georgia, married six
stalwart knights, and lived very happily afterwards, as did their six
fair attendants, who, in like manner, married six faithful squires, who
all in time became knights and great lords of the realm.
After the tournament and all the festivities were over, the Seven
Champions prepared to depart, each for his own country; but, ere they
commenced their journey, news arrived that all the great Pagan Powers
had banded together to overthrow the Christian Emperor of the East, who,
therefore, sent to entreat all the aid they and their followers could
afford. With one accord they promised to raise an army, and to hurry
back to his assistance.
Saint George, leaving his youthful bride, the lovely Princess Sabra, in
his castle near Coventry, soon levied a powerful army; and, setting
sail, no longer as a knight-errant, but as a renowned general, he
arrived with his forces on the coast of Portugal, where he was joined by
the other six Champions, who each brought troops in proportion to the
size of his country. So enchanted were the Portuguese with Saint
George, that, having no Champion of their own, they entreated him to
become theirs, and have ever since retained him among their most
honoured saints and heroes. Here Saint George was chosen generalissimo
of all the Christian forces, and, once more setting sail, he entered the
Mediterranean. Then, landing on the coast of Morocco, he bethought him
of punishing Almidor, the black King of that country, who was about to
join the Pagan armies.
The Moors in vain endeavoured to prevent the landing of the Christian
Champions. The battle was hot and furious. Almidor rushed to the van,
where quickly he was singled out by Saint George. Terrific was the
combat, and never before was the Moorish Monarch so hotly pressed.
Now he had prepared, in full expectation of victory, a vast cauldron of
boiling metal, in which he purposed, with fell intent, to cast the
Christian Champions and their followers; but when at length, unable any
longer to withstand the far-famed sword of Saint George, he fled in
despair, to cast himself headlong in, and his example being followed by
his generals and chief officers, the furious battle was brought to a
speedy end, and the Princess Sabra was well avenged for the cruelties
the black Almidor had inflicted on her.
Scarcely had this satisfactory event been brought about than Saint
George received the unwelcome news that the Earl of Coventry was
besieging his castle in England, for the purpose of carrying off the
Lady Sabra, his bride, and now the mother of three blooming boys,--the
wicked Earl having spread a report that the great Champion of England,
whom no other foe could conquer, had yielded to the inevitable hand of
death.
The brave Knight hastened back with the speed of lightning, when sad was
the sight which met his eyes. His castle was burnt to the ground, and
his lady had been carried off by the wicked Earl, and, as she had
refused all his offers of marriage, had been accused of witchcraft, and
lay in prison, condemned to be burned alive. What had become of his
three blooming boys he could not tell.
Putting spurs to his horse, the Knight and De Fistycuff galloped into
Coventry. There he met the Earl going out hunting; and there, in mortal
combat, he laid him low.
Scarcely had the Earl breathed his last, acknowledging with his dying
breath the lady's innocence, than the Princess Sabra was led forth to
execution. Quickly her guards were put to flight, and mounting her on
his horse, he bore her off to a neighbouring forest, where he might defy
pursuit.
There, as they wandered up and down, one day they espied three beauteous
boys, sleeping on a bed of roses, beneath a shady bower. The parents'
hearts told them that the children were their own. They flew towards
them, when they saw, seated at the further end of the bower a beautiful
lady. Instantly Saint George knew her as the kind Fairy who so often
before befriended him, and who had now saved his children from the
burning castle. Again and again he thanked the Fairy, who, smiling
sweetly, vanished from his sight.
Leaving his children under the care of those wise tutors, named
Industry, Attention, and Teachableness, taking his wife, he once more
set out to rejoin the army engaged in the war with the Pagans.