Not long afterwards a hard winter set in, with bitter cold and
furious storm.
And the heart of the fifteenth virgin no longer beat strong against
Sir Halewyn's breast.
And he sang, but none came. Wherefore he was disappointed and angry.
But calling to mind that there were, in the castle of Sir Roel de
Heurne, two girls supposed by common report to be virgins,
And that this castle was no more than the fifth part of a league from
the borders of his land,
And that therefore the two maids would be able to hear and come to
the call of his song,
He went each night and stationed himself on the farthest border of
his demesne, and there sang towards the said castle, notwithstanding
the bitter cold, and the snow beginning to fall abundantly.
XVIII. Of the damosels Magtelt and Anne-Mie, and of Schimmel the
dapple-gray.
While the Miserable was roaming the woods, Sir Roel de Heurne and the
lady Gonde, his wife, richly clad, and wrapt round with deer-skins,
which give particular warmth to the body, were sitting snugly on their
coffers before their good fire of oaken logs, chatting together as
old folk will.
But it was the Lady Gonde who spoke most, being the woman.
And she said:
"My good man, do you hear the storm raging furiously in the forest?"
"Yes," answered Sir Roel.
And his lady said further:
"God has been kind to give us, against this great cold, such a fine
castle so strongly built, such good clothes, and such a bright fire."
"Yes," answered the Sire.
"But above all," said she, "he has shown us his divine grace by giving
us such good and brave children."
"True," answered the Sire.
"For," said she, "nowhere could you find a young man more valiant,
courteous, gentle, and fitter to uphold our name than Toon, our son."
"Yes," said the Sire, "he has saved my life in battle."
"But," said his lady, "he has this fault, that he is so scant of
words that we scarce know the tone of his voice. He is well called
the Silent."
"There is better worth to a man," said the Sire, "in a good sword
than in a long tongue."
"Here I see you, my lord," said the lady, "pent up with your
reflections, for sadness and gravity are the lot of old age, but I
know well a certain maid who would smooth out your forehead and set
you laughing."
"'Tis possible," said the Sire.
"Yes," said she, "it is certainly possible, for when Magtelt our
daughter comes into this room, I shall see my lord and husband turn
happy at once."
At these words Sir Roel nodded his head and smiled a little.
"Yes, yes," said his lady, "for when Magtelt laughs, then laughs my
old Roel; when she sings, then my old Roel grows thoughtful and nods
his head happily, and if she passes by, he follows with smiling eyes
each step of his little daughter."
"True, Gonde," said the Sire.
"Yes, yes," said she, "for who is the well-being and joy of this
house? 'Tis not I, who am old, and losing my teeth one by one; nor you
either, my fellow in antiquity; nor the Silent either; nor Anne-Mie
the private servant, who, though she is very sweet and healthy in her
person, is something too quiet in her ways, and laughs only when she
is set laughing. But she who makes our old age happy, she who is the
nightingale in the house, she who is always coming and going, passing
and repassing, flying hither and thither, singing and singing again,
as happy as a peal of bells at Christmastide: 'tis our good daughter."
"So it is," said the Sire.
"Ah," said his lady further, "it is a happy thing for us to have
such a child, since both of us have already cold in our feet at all
seasons. For without her we should pass our time in sadness, and from
our old feet the cold would creep up to our hearts, and so we should
be taken to our graves more quickly."
"Yes, wife," said the Sire.
"Ah," said she, "another damosel would have wished for love-suitors,
and to go to the court of My Lord to get a husband. But our little
maid gives no thought to that, for hereabout she loves no one but
ourselves, and her who goes everywhere with her, and is as a sister
to her, Anne-Mie the private servant; but not without teasing her a
little in order to make her laugh."
"True," said the Sire.
"Yes, yes," said his lady, "and every one loves her, admires her, and
respects her, pages, grooms, varlets, men-at-arms, private servants,
serfs, and peasants, so joyous and merry is she, so brave and gentle
is her bearing. There is no one, even down to Schimmel, the great
war-horse, who does not follow her like a dog. Ah! When he sees her
coming he whinnies joyously; and she alone must bring him his oats and
corn; from none other will he take a grain. She treats him like a man,
and often gives him a great draught of clauwaert, which he drinks up
with relish. She makes herself understood to him by words, but she must
never be cross with him, or he makes as if to weep, and looks at her
with so sad a manner that she cannot withstand it and then calls him
to her, saying: 'Beautiful Schimmel, brave Schimmel,' and other soft
words; hearing which the good dapple-gray gets up and comes close to
her to have more compliments. He suffers no one on his back but she,
and when he is carrying her he is as proud as My Lord of Flanders at
the head of his good barons and knights. So she has her sovereignty
over every one, by joyousness, goodness, and fair speaking."
"Yes," said the Sire.
"Ah," said his lady, "may the very good God watch over our little one,
and may our old ears hear this fledgeling nightingale singing always."
"Amen," said the Sire.
XIX. How Magtelt sang to Sir Roel the lied of the Lion, and the song
of the Four Witches.
While Sir Roel and the lady Gonde were talking together,
The snow had fallen in great quantity,
And had quite covered Magtelt and Anne-Mie, who were coming back from
having taken an eagle-stone to the wife of Josse, for her to bind to
her left thigh and so get ease in her lying-in.
And the girls came into the great hall, where Sir Roel was sitting
with his good wife.
Magtelt, drawing close to her father, knelt to him in salutation.
And Sir Roel, having raised her up, kissed her on the brow.
But Anne-Mie stayed quietly in a corner, as became a private servant.
And it was a good sight to see these two maids wholly covered with
snow.
"Jesus-Maria," said the lady Gonde, "see these two sillies, what have
they been doing to get themselves clothed in snow in this fashion? To
the fire quickly, children; draw to the fire and dry yourselves."
"Silence, wife," said Sir Roel, "you make youth faint-heart. In my
young days I went through cold, snow, hail, thunder, and tempest
without a thought. And so do I still, when there is need to, and
I will have Magtelt do the same. Thanks be to God! 'tis not from a
fire of logs that a daughter of ours must get warmth, but from the
natural fire which burns in the bodies of the children of old Roel."
But Magtelt, seeing him about to grow angry, went and knelt at
his feet.
"Lord father," said she, "we are not cold at all, for we have been
leaping, dancing and frolicking so heartily, thumping and drubbing each
other, that we turned winter into spring; furthermore we sang some fine
songs, which I beg you will give me leave to sing over again to you."
"So I will, little one," said Sir Roel. So Magtelt sang him the lied,
of Roeland de Heurne the Lion, who came back from the Holy Land,
and brought thence a great sword; and also the song of the Four
Witches, wherein you may hear mewling of cats, bleating of goats,
and the noise which they make with their tails in rainy weather.
And Sir Roel forgot his anger.
When Magtelt had done singing he caused supper to be served and the
cross lit up, which threw over them a bright light from the four
lamps burning at the end of each arm.
And he made his daughter sit at his side.
Anne-Mie came likewise to sit at table, beside the lady Gonde, who
said: "Young company warms old folk."
And there were served to them that evening fine white bread, beef
salted and smoked in the chimney among the sweet smoke of fir-cones,
Ghent sausage, which was invented, they say, by Boudwin the Glutton,
bastard of Flanders, and old clauwaert.
Supper finished, and a prayer spoken, Magtelt and Anne-Mie went off
to bed, in the same room, for Magtelt loved Anne-Mie like a sister
and would have her by her side at all times.