TOLD TO THE CHILDREN SERIES
EDITED BY LOUEY CHISHOLM
THE FAERIE QUEEN
[Illustration: I should like the crystal ball to shew me what my husband
will be like (page 33)]
STORIES FROM
The Faerie Queen
TOLD TO THE CHILDREN BY
JEANIE LANG
WITH PICTURES BY
ROSE LE QUESNE
[Illustration]
LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK, LTD.
NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
TO DIANA
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, LTD.
ABOUT THE FAERIE QUEEN
More than three hundred years ago there lived in England a poet named
Edmund Spenser. He was brave and true and gentle, and he loved all that
was beautiful and good.
Edmund Spenser wrote many poems, and the most beautiful of all is the one
called 'The Faerie Queen.' He loved so dearly all things that are
beautiful and all things that are good, that his eyes could see Fairyland
more clearly than the eyes of other men ever could.
There are many, many stories in 'The Faerie Queen,' and out of them all I
have told you only eight. Some day you will read the others for yourself.
In this little book Miss Rose Le Quesne has made one pretty picture for
each story. But when you are old enough to read for yourself 'The Faerie
Queen' that Edmund Spenser wrote, you will find that there is a picture on
every page.
JEANIE LANG.
LIST OF STORIES
Page
Una and the Lion, 1
St. George and the Dragon, 15
Britomart and the Magic Mirror, 32
The Quest of Sir Guyon, 45
Pastorella, 60
Cambell and Triamond, 79
Marinell, the Sea-Nymph's Son, 89
Florimell and the Witch, 101
LIST OF PICTURES
BRITOMART AND THE MAGIC MIRROR.
'I should like the crystal ball to show me what
my husband will be like, _Frontispiece_
At page
UNA AND THE LION.
He followed her like a faithful dog, 6
ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON.
The dragon was dead, 30
THE QUEST OF SIR GUYON.
Great heaps of gold lay about him on every side, 48
PASTORELLA.
In the middle of the ring of girls sat Pastorella, 64
CAMBELL AND TRIAMOND.
She asked the Fates to let her sons have long, long lives, 80
MARINELL, THE SEA-NYMPH'S SON.
But the knight was Britomart, the fair lady with a man's
armour and a man's heart, 92
FLORIMELL AND THE WITCH.
Florimell's golden hair flew behind her, 102
I
UNA AND THE LION
Once upon a time, in a country not far from Fairyland, there lived a king
and queen and their daughter, whose name was Una.
Una was one of the most beautiful princesses that ever were seen, and she
was as good as she was beautiful.
She and her father and mother loved each other very dearly, and they were
very happy together, until a dreadful thing happened in their kingdom and
took all their happiness away.
A hideous dragon came from another country, and killed men and women and
little children. With its fiery breath it turned the trees and grass and
flowers into black ashes, and it slew everybody that it came across.
It would have killed Una's father and mother too, but they and some of
their servants shut themselves up in a tower made of brass. The dragon
tried very hard to get in and eat them up, but it could not break into a
tower so strong.
For seven years the king and queen hid in their tower, while the dragon
lay outside.
Many brave knights came and fought with the horrible monster and tried to
save the king and queen. But the dragon was stronger than all the knights,
and killed every one of them.
At last Una made up her mind to ride to Fairyland and ask the Queen of the
Fairies to send one of her knights to kill the dragon.
Una took no soldiers nor servants with her, but a dwarf carried for her
the food and clothes she needed, and she rode on a little white ass.
Her dress was of white, but she covered it and her beautiful, shining,
golden hair up with a black cloak to show that she felt sad. Her lovely
face was very sorrowful, for she was so unhappy at the cruel things the
dragon had done, and the danger her dear father and mother were in.
Una safely got to the court of the Faerie Queen, and a young knight,
fearless and faithful and true, offered to come back with her to kill the
dragon.
His name was George, but on the breast of his silver armour, and on his
silver shield, a red cross was painted. So people called him the Red Cross
Knight.
The sun shone bright, and the birds sang sweetly, as Una and her knight
rode away through the woods that lay between her father's kingdom and the
lands of the Faerie Queen.
The knight's great war-horse pranced and champed at its bit, and Una's
little donkey put down its dainty feet gently on the grass and wondered at
the great big horse and his jingling harness as they went along side by
side.
Before they had gone very far a storm came on. The sky grew dark and rain
fell heavily, and they would have been drenched had they not found shelter
in a thick wood. There were wide paths in this wood, and tall trees whose
leafy branches grew so close that no rain could come through.
It was such a beautiful wood, and they were so happy talking together and
listening to the birds' sweet song, that they rode along without noticing
where they went.
So when the rain stopped and they wished to get back to the open road,
they could not find the way. On and on they went, until they came to the
mouth of a great dark cave.
The knight sprang from his horse, and giving his spear to the dwarf to
hold, went forward to see what might be hidden in the darkness.
'Do not be so rash!' cried Una; 'I know that this is a terribly dangerous
place, and that a dreadful monster stays in that black den!'
The frightened dwarf also begged him to come away, but the knight said, 'I
should be ashamed to come back. If one is good, one need have no fear of
the darkness.'
So into the darkness he went, and in the faint light that came from his
shining armour he saw a hideous monster. It had a great ugly head and a
long speckled tail like a serpent's, and it rushed at the knight, roaring
furiously. He struck at it with his sword, but it wound its horrible tail
around him, until he was nearly crushed to death.
Una called to him not to fear, but to strike the monster bravely. And he,
smiting it with all his might, cut off its head.
Then Una and he rode joyfully onwards, and, as evening fell, they found a
way out of the wood. On the road they met an old man who looked kind and
good. He asked them to stay all night in his cottage in a little valley
near at hand, and they gladly went.
This old man was a wicked magician, and all he wanted was to do them harm.
When they had lain down to rest, he began to work his magic on them. So
well did he do it, that he made the Red Cross Knight believe that Una was
very false and wicked, and that the best thing he could do was to go away
from her. Very early in the morning the knight made the dwarf saddle his
horse, and they went off together and left Una asleep in the house of the
wicked magician.
When she awoke and found them gone, Una could only weep bitterly at what
seemed to her their cruelty.
She rode after them as quickly as she could, but her little donkey could
only go slowly, and in his anger and sorrow the knight had made his horse
gallop so fast that she had no chance of overtaking them.
Day after day, up hill and down dale, in woods and on lonely moors, she
sought her knight. And her heart was very sad, because he whom she loved
had left her so ungently.
One day when she was very tired she lay down to rest under the trees in a
thick wood. She took off her black cloak, and her beautiful golden hair
fell loosely round her face. Her face was so fair and so full of goodness
that it seemed to make sunshine in the shady place.
Suddenly there rushed at her from out of the wood a furious lion. He was
hunting for something to kill and eat, and when he saw Una he ran at her
greedily, with hungry gaping jaws.
But when it had looked at her lovely face, instead of tearing her in
pieces it gently licked her little white hands and feet. And Una's sad
heart was so grateful to the noble beast that her tears dropped on him as
he did it.
The lion would not leave her. He kept watch while she slept, and when she
was awake he followed her like a faithful dog.
[Illustration: He followed her like a faithful dog (page 6)]
Together they wandered on, but never met any one that Una could ask if he
had seen the Red Cross Knight.
At last, one evening, they saw a young woman walking up a steep mountain
path, and carrying a pot of water on her back. Una called to her, but when
the woman looked round and saw a lovely lady and a lion, she got such a
fright that she threw down the pot and ran for her life. Her old mother
was blind, and they lived in a hut on the mountain, and when she got there
she rushed in and shut the door.
Una and the lion followed her, and the lion, with one blow from his strong
paw, drove the door in.
The two women were hiding in a dark corner, half-dead from fear. Una tried
to comfort them, and asked them if she and her lion might shelter there
for the night. When darkness came she lay down, very tired, to sleep,
while her lion lay and watched at her feet.
In the middle of the night a knock came to the door. It was a wicked
robber, who used to bring the things he stole and give them to those two
bad women. The women were so afraid of the lion that they dared not come
out of their hiding-place. So the thief, in a rage, burst the door open,
and when he did this, the lion rushed at him and tore him in pieces.
Next morning Una rose early and went away with the lion.
When she had gone, the women came out, and when they saw the robber's dead
body, they were filled with rage at Una and her lion. They ran after her,
calling her bad names, but they could not overtake her.
As they were going home they met the wicked magician. They told him about
Una, and he rode quickly after her. By his magic he made himself armour
the same as that of the Red Cross Knight, and when Una saw him she thought
it was her own true knight come back to her at last. He spoke to her as if
he was really her knight, and her heart was filled with gladness.
But she was not the only one who thought that the wicked magician was the
Red Cross Knight. Sansloy, a rough and wicked man, whose brother had been
killed in a fight with the Knight of the Red Cross, came riding along and
met them. When he saw the red cross on the magician's breast he rode at
him furiously.
The old magician had to fight, whether he wanted to or not, and Sansloy
fought so fiercely that he wounded him and cast him bleeding on the
ground. Then Sansloy dragged off his helmet and was going to kill him,
when he found, instead of the Red Cross Knight's handsome young face, the
wicked old face and grey hair of the magician.
Sansloy was afraid of the magician, so he drew back and did not hurt him
more. But when he saw how beautiful Una was, he roughly dragged her off
her ass, and made up his mind to take her away with him and make her his
wife.
When the lion saw the knight roughly take hold of Una, he made a fierce
rush at him, and would have torn him in pieces; but Sansloy beat the lion
back with his shield, and when the lion would have torn the shield from
him, he drove his sword deep into the lion's faithful heart. With a great
roar the noble beast fell dead, and Sansloy threw Una before him on his
horse and galloped away with her. She wept and sobbed and begged him to
let her go, but Sansloy would not listen. And it seemed as if Una had no
friend left, or, at least, no friend that could help her. For the little
white donkey trotted after her, afraid of nothing except to be left alone
without his mistress.
The darkness fell, and the stars that came out looked down like weeping
eyes on Una's sorrow and helplessness.
Sansloy stopped his horse at last and lifted Una down. When she shrank
from him in fear, he was so rough that she screamed for help until the
woods rang and echoed her screams.
Now in the woods there lived wild people, some of whom were more like
beasts than men and women. They were dancing merrily in the starlight when
they heard Una's cries, and they stopped their dance and ran to see what
was wrong.
When Sansloy saw them, with their rough long hair and hairy legs and arms
and strange wild faces, he was so frightened that he jumped on his horse
and galloped away.
But the wild people of the woods were more gentle than the cowardly
knight. When they saw Una, so beautiful and so frightened and so sad, they
smiled at her to show her that they meant to be kind. Then they knelt
before her to show her that they would obey her, and gently kissed her
feet.
So Una was no longer afraid, and when the wild people saw that she trusted
them, they were so glad that they jumped and danced and sang for joy. They
broke off green branches and strewed them before her as she walked, and
they crowned her with leaves to show that she was their queen. And so they
led her home to their chief, and he and the beautiful nymphs of the wood
all welcomed her with gladness.
For a long time Una lived with them and was their queen, but at last a
brave knight came that way. His father had been a wild man of the woods,
but his mother was a gentle lady. He was brave and bold as his father had
been. When he was a little boy and lived with the wild people, he used to
steal the baby lions from their mothers just for fun, and drive panthers,
and antelopes, and wild boars, and tigers and wolves with bits and
bridles, as if they were playing at horses. But he was gentle like his
mother, although he was so fearless. And when Una told him the story of
the Red Cross Knight and the lion, and of all her adventures, his heart
was filled with pity. He vowed to help her to escape, and to try to find
the Red Cross Knight. So one day he and she ran away, and by night had got
far out of reach of the wild men of the woods.
When the wicked magician knew of Una's escape, he dressed himself up like
a pilgrim and came to meet her and the brave knight of the forest.
'Have you seen, or have you heard anything about my true knight, who bears
a red cross on his breast?' asked Una of the old man.
'Ah yes,' said the magician, 'I have seen him both living and dead. To-day
I saw a terrible fight between him and another knight, and the other
knight killed him.'
When Una heard this cruel lie she fell down in a faint. The brave young
knight lifted her up and gently tried to comfort her.
'Where is this man who has slain the Red Cross Knight, and taken from us
all our joy?' he asked of the false pilgrim.
'He is near here now,' said the magician. 'I left him at a fountain,
washing his wounds.'
Off hurried the knight, so fast that Una could not keep up with him, and
sure enough, at a fountain they found a knight sitting. It was the wicked
Sansloy who had killed Una's lion and carried her away.
The brave knight rushed up to him with his drawn sword.
'You have slain the Red Cross Knight,' he said; 'come and fight and be
punished for your evil deed.'
'I never slew the Red Cross Knight,' said Sansloy, in a great rage. 'Your
enemies have sent you to me to be killed.'
Then, like two wild beasts, they fought, only resting sometimes for a
moment that they might rush at each other again with the more strength and
fury.
Blood poured from their wounds, the earth was trampled by their feet, and
the sound of their fierce blows rang through the air.
Una was so terrified at the dreadful sight that she ran away and left them
fighting furiously.
Before she had gone far she saw a little figure running through the woods
towards her. It was her own dwarf, and his woful face told her that some
evil thing had happened to the Red Cross Knight.
The knight had had many adventures since he left her in the magician's
hut, and at last a giant had caught him, and kept him a prisoner in a
dreary dungeon. The dwarf had run away, lest the giant should kill him.
Una loved the Red Cross Knight so much that her heart almost broke when
she heard the dwarf's story. But she made up her mind to find her knight
and free him. So on she went, up hill and down dale, beaten by driving
rain and buffeted by bitter winds.
At last, by good chance, she met a knight and his squire. This knight was
the good Prince Arthur, of all the knights of the Faerie Queen the bravest
and the best. To him she told her sorrowful tale.
'Be of good cheer and take comfort,' said the good prince. 'I will never
leave you until I have freed the Red Cross Knight.'
And the prince kept his promise.
The story of St. George and the Dragon will tell you how Una and her
knight met together again and were married, and forgot their past sorrows
in their great happiness.
II
ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON
Long, long ago, before the things that happened were written down in
history books, a spiteful fairy came into the castle of an English king.
She saw a beautiful baby-boy, the king's little son, lying asleep, and,
out of mischief, she ran away with him and left her own ugly little fairy
baby there instead.
But when she had stolen the baby, she could not be troubled to take care
of him. So she laid him down in the furrow of a ploughed field.
Soon a ploughman, with his horses, came that way. He was a kind man, and
he lifted the baby up off the cold brown earth and carried him home to his
cottage. He called him Georgos, and brought him up as if he were his own
boy.
When Georgos was a big boy he did not care to be a ploughman. He wished to
be a knight and fight for people who were not as strong as he was. So he
went to the court of the Faerie Queen, and she took him for one of her
knights. She called him George, and gave him armour all shining with
silver and with a red cross on his shield and on his breast.
You have heard the story of Una, so you know that it was George of the Red
Cross who left the fairy court to fight for her and to be her knight.
There was no sadder knight to be found in all Fairyland than George of the
Red Cross, after the wicked magician had made him think that Una was false
and bad. With a heavy heart he rode away from the magician's cottage in
the grey dawn, with the dwarf sadly following him.
As he went through the woods he met a knight riding with a beautiful lady
in red robes that sparkled with jewels. The lady's horse was all decked
out with gold, and from its bridle hung golden bells.
Although she was so beautiful, she was really a wicked witch, who was
never so happy as when she was making men fight and kill each other.
When she saw George coming, she said to the knight with whom she rode,
'Here comes a knight! you must fight with him.'
So the knight rode furiously at George, and George met him as fiercely,
and both their spears splintered as they crashed against each other. Then,
with their swords they cut and thrust and hacked. The knight cut through a
piece of George's helmet by the fury of one blow, but George gave him such
a stroke in return, that his sword went through the steel helmet right
into the knight's head, and he fell dead.
When the witch saw him fall, she galloped away, screaming with fear.
George rode after her and begged her not to be afraid, but the witch
pretended to cry bitterly. She told him she did not cry for sorrow that
the knight was dead, but only because she was frightened. She said that
the knight who lay there had wished to marry her, but that she did not
love him, and liked George much better.
The witch looked so beautiful, with her red robes and splendid jewels, and
pretended so well to be simple and good, that George believed all that she
said.
'Do not be afraid,' he said, 'I will take care of you, and be your
friend.'
So he did not think of Una any more, but rode away happily with the witch,
who said her name was Fidessa.
In the middle of the day, when the sun had grown very hot, they rested in
the shade of two great trees.
The spreading branches of the trees were overgrown with grey moss, and
their green leaves were never still, but whispered and trembled as if the
wind was blowing on them. George thought he would make a garland of these
fresh leaves to put on Fidessa's dark hair. He plucked a little branch,
and, as he broke it, red drops of blood trickled down from the place where
it was broken.
Then a sad voice spoke out of the tree, and told him that the trees were
not really trees, but a knight and a lady, who had been bewitched by the
magic of a wicked witch.
The witch who had done it was Fidessa, and when Fidessa heard the tree
speak, she was afraid that George would find her out. But George was too
simple and too true to think that beautiful Fidessa could be so wicked. He
was very sorry for having hurt the tree-man, and with some earth plastered
up the place that bled.
Then he and Fidessa hurried away from the place of the shivering trees.
When they had ridden for a long time they came to a gorgeous palace where
only bad people stayed. Fidessa made George come with her into the
palace, and while they stayed there she got some of the wicked knights of
the palace to fight with George and try to kill him. But George was braver
and stronger than any of these knights, and instead of their killing him,
he killed them.
One day Fidessa went from home, and, while she was away, Una's dwarf, who
had never left George, went wandering through the palace.
In a dark and horrible dungeon he found many knights, and kings, and
ladies and princes shut up as prisoners.
The dwarf ran and told George, and the Red Cross Knight, fearing that he
also would be made a prisoner and cast into the dungeon if he stayed
longer in the enchanted palace, rode away. The wounds he had got in his
last fight were still unhealed, so that he could not go fast.
When Fidessa got back and found him gone, she rode after him as fast as
ever she could.
When she found him he was resting, with his armour off, on the mossy grass
by the side of a sparkling fountain. He was peacefully listening to the
sweet song of birds, and to the tinkling water, when Fidessa's red robes
showed through the trees.
She talked to him so cunningly that soon she persuaded him to think that
she loved him very much and meant him nothing but kindness.
Now the witch knew that the water of the fountain was magic water, and if
any one drank it all his strength would leave him. So she made George lie
down on the sandy gravel and drink. In one minute his strength all went
from him and he was no stronger than a tiny boy.
No sooner had this happened than there walked out from amongst the trees
an enormous ugly giant. In his hand, for a club, he carried a big oak-tree
that he had pulled out of the earth by the roots. When he saw George he
rushed at him like an earthquake, and smote him such a mighty blow that
George fell fainting to the ground. Then the giant picked him up as if he
had been a helpless little baby, and carried him away, and threw him into
the darkest dungeon of his castle in the woods.
Una's dwarf, who had hidden in the bushes and seen all that happened, ran
away, lest the giant should kill him.
But Fidessa, the wicked witch, made friends with the giant, and he made
her his wife.
He gave her a robe of purple and gold to wear, and put a splendid gold
crown on her head. And to make people more afraid of her than they were
already, he gave her a horrible beast with seven heads and a long scaly
tail of brass to ride on.
For months and months George was a prisoner in the gloomy dungeon. The
light never came into it, nor any air. He was chained with heavy iron
bands, and was given scarcely anything to eat or to drink. His face grew
white and thin, and his eyes grew hollow. His strong arms became only skin
and bone, and his legs were so feeble that he could not stand. He looked
more like a shadow than a man.
One day, as he lay on the floor of the dungeon, feebly moaning and longing
to die, the door burst open.
A knight in shining armour of diamonds and gold stood before him, and
before George could speak to him, there ran into the dreary cell, like a
sunbeam in the dark, his own beautiful Una.
Una nearly cried for joy at seeing her knight again, and for sorrow
because he looked so terribly ill.
She told him that Prince Arthur, the knight who had saved him, had cut off
the giant's head, and slain the seven-headed monster, and made Fidessa
prisoner.
Then Prince Arthur tore off Fidessa's robe of purple and gold, and her
golden crown and all her sparkling jewels. And all her beauty faded away,
and she looked like the hideous, wicked old witch that she really was.
George shrank away from her in horror, and wondered how she could ever
have made him forget Una, or have made him think that she herself was good
and beautiful.
And Fidessa, frightened at being found out, ran away and hid herself in a
dark cave in the lonely desert.
Then Una took George, who was now no stronger than a little child who has
been ill, to an old house not far away from the giant's castle. It was
called the House of Holiness.
There lived there a good old lady and her three good and beautiful
daughters, and they helped Una to nurse George until he grew strong again.
And as he grew stronger, from the rest and their care and the dainty food
they gave him, those ladies of the House of Holiness taught the young
knight many things.
He learned to be more gentle than he had been before, and never to be
proud nor boastful, and to love nothing that was not wholly good. He
learned, too, not to hate any one, nor to be angry or revengeful, and
always to be as generous and as merciful as he was brave.
When he was quite strong once more, he went from the House of Holiness to
a place where an old hermit stayed, and from him George learned still more
of what was good.
George had always thought that he was a fairy's son, but the hermit told
him the story of how the bad fairy had stolen him from his father's castle
when he was a baby. And although George loved his Faerie Queen and the
fairy knights and ladies, he was glad to think that he was the son of an
English king.
The old man told him that if, all through his life, he was true, and
brave, and merciful and good, one day he should be called a saint. And he
would be the saint who belonged especially to all Englishmen and
Englishwomen, and to English boys and girls.
'_Saint George shalt thou callèd be,
Saint George of Merry England, the sign of victory._'
Then did George, his shining armour with its red crosses, and his sharp
sword and glittering spear buckled on again, ride away once more with Una,
to kill the dragon and set free the king and queen.
It was a dreary country that they rode through, for the dragon had laid it
all waste, but from far away they saw the tower of brass shining in the
sun.
As they drew nearer they saw a watchman on the top of the tower gazing
across the plain. Day after day for a long, long time he had looked for
Una to come back with a knight to slay the dragon. When he saw Una and
George crossing the plain, he ran and told the king and queen, and the old
king climbed up to the top of the tower to see for himself that the good
news was true.
As they drew near the tower, George and Una heard a hideous roaring sound.
It filled all the air and shook the ground like an earthquake. It came
from the dragon, that was stretched out in the sun on the side of a hill.
When it saw the knight in gleaming armour riding towards it, it roused
itself joyfully up to come and kill him, as it had killed all the other
knights.
George made Una go to a high piece of ground, from whence she could see
the fight, and where she would be out of danger, and then rode to meet the
terrible beast.
Half running and half flying, with its great ugly wings, the dragon came
swiftly towards him. It was so big that its shadow looked like the dark
shadow of a mountain on a valley. Its body was monstrous and horrible and
vast, and was all swelled out with rage. It had scales all over it that
shone like brass, and that were as strong as steel. Its wings were like
big sails, and when it flapped them and clashed its scales, the sound was
like the sound of a great army fighting. Its long tail was spotted red and
black, and at the end of it two sharp stings stuck out. It had cruel long
claws, and its gaping jaws had each three rows of iron teeth, all stained
and wet with the blood of the people it had eaten last. It had eyes like
flames, and its breath was fire and smoke.
When it rushed at George, George rode hard at it with his spear. But no
spear was ever made that was strong enough to pierce that dragon's scales.
The spear glanced off from its ugly, speckled breast, but the dragon,
furious at the hard thrust that George had given him, lashed out with its
tail so furiously that both the horse and his rider were thrown to the
ground. Lightly they rose up again, and again George smote with his spear.
Then the dragon, spreading its wings, rose from the ground like a giant
bird, and seizing George and his horse in its claws, flew away with them.
Right across the plain it flew, then, finding them heavy, it dropped them
on the ground. As it did this, George thrust with his spear under the
dragon's stretched-out wing, and made a great gaping wound. The spear
broke, but the spear-head stuck in the wound, until the dragon, mad with
rage and pain, plucked it out with its teeth.
Then did fire and smoke rush out more terribly than before from the jaws
of the furious dragon. It lashed its long tail so savagely that it folded
in its coils George's foaming horse. The frantic horse, in its struggles
to get free, threw George on the ground amongst the horrible blood. But
George sprang to his feet, and with his sharp sword struck again and again
at the dragon's head. The sword could not pierce it, but the dragon,
annoyed at George's fierce attack, thought it would fly out of his reach.
But when it tried, the wound George had made in its wing prevented it.
Then its rage at George grew fifty times more furious. It roared till the
whole land shook, and it sent out from its inside such blazing flames that
George's face was scorched and his armour grew so hot that it burned into
his flesh.
George was so tired and so faint and sore, that when he was burned as
well, he feared that the end had come. The dragon saw his faintness, and
smiting him a tremendous blow with its great tail, it threw him down, and
George fell backwards into a pool of water. Now this pool of water was a
magic spring. When George fell into it, all his faintness and weariness
vanished.
Una, who feared he was dead, saw him spring out of the water even fresher
and stronger than he had been at the beginning of the fight.
The dragon could not believe its eyes, and thought that George must be a
new knight who had come to fight it.
Before it had got over its surprise, George struck its head so fiercely
with his sword, which still dripped from the magic water, that he made a
great wound.
The dragon, roaring like a hundred lions, struck at George with the stings
on the end of its tail. One of them went right through George's shield,
and through his armour, and firmly stuck in his shoulder. Though George
was faint with the pain it caused, he hit the dragon's tail such a blow
that he hewed off five joints and left only the ugly stump.
Mad with rage, the dragon, belching out smoke and fire, and giving fearful
cries, seized George's silver shield in its claws and tried to drag it
from him. Again and again, and yet again, George struck at it with his
sword. At last he hit the joint and cut the paw clean off. Even then, so
tight was the grip that the claws had got, that it still hung bleeding
from the shield.
Then was the dragon's rage so frightful, that the flames and smoke from
its mouth were like the flames and smoke that pour out of a burning
mountain. All the sky was darkened, and as George shrank back in horror
from the burning, choking, smelling darkness, his foot slipped in the
mire, and he fell.
Now there grew in that land a magic tree, all hung with fruit and rosy
apples. From the trunk of the tree there flowed a little stream of sweet
balm that could cure even deadly wounds and make weak people strong. The
dragon was afraid of this tree and its magic stream, and dared not go near
it.
All night George lay as if he were dead, and Una, on the hillside, waited
with a heavy heart for morning to come.
He lay so close to the magic tree that the dragon dared not come near him,
but it thought that he must have died of his wounds.
When the black night had rolled away and daylight spread over the land,
George arose from his sleep. His wounds were all healed by the magic balm,
and he was stronger than before.
When the dragon rushed at him with its great fierce mouth gaping wide,
George thrust his sword down its throat and wounded it so terribly that it
rolled over like a huge mountain in an earthquake. The ground shook as it
fell, and the last breaths that it drew stained the beautiful morning sky,
like smoke from a furnace.
At first it seemed to Una too good to be true that the dragon was dead.
But when the last of the black smoke had cleared away, and the monster lay
quite still, she knew that George had won the fight and slain the dragon.
The watchman on the brazen tower had also seen the dragon fall, and so the
king had the gates of brass, that had been closed for so long, thrown wide
open.
With sounds of trumpets and shouts of joy the king and queen and their
people came out to greet George and Una, and to thank George, who had
saved them and their land from the horrible dragon.
The people crowded round the dead body of the monster. The children wished
to look at it closely, and when a bold little boy took hold of its claws,
his mother screamed with fright, and dragged him back. So long had they
been in terror of their savage enemy, that even when it lay dead they
still feared that it might do them some harm.
[Illustration: The dragon was dead (page 30)]
There never was a happier wedding than the wedding of Una and George, the
Red Cross Knight, nor was there ever any bride more beautiful than Una.
Her dress was spotless, like a white lily. It was not made of silver nor
silk, yet like silver and silk it shone and glistened. Her golden hair
hung round her happy face, and her face was like the freshest flower of
May.
Fairy music rang through the air, and there was nothing but happiness in
the land on the day that Una wedded brave George of Merry England.
III
BRITOMART AND THE MAGIC MIRROR
Long years ago there lived a beautiful princess whose name was Britomart.
When she was a little girl she did not care to play with dolls nor to sew,
but she loved to ride and to play boys' games. And when she grew older she
learned to fight with spears and swords like the knights at her father's
court.
Now a great magician called Merlin had once given a wonderful gift to the
king, Britomart's father.
It was a magic mirror, that looked like a ball of the clearest crystal.
When the king looked in this mirror he saw all that was going to happen to
him, and which of his friends were false and which true. There was no
hidden secret which that crystal ball could not tell.
One day Britomart went into her father's room and looked into his magic
mirror.
'What shall I wish to see?' she asked of herself.
Then she thought, 'Some day I shall marry. I should like the crystal ball
to show me what my husband will be like.'
Even as she thought this, she saw, like a moving picture, a knight riding
across the crystal.
He was tall and broad and strong, and looked very brave. The front of his
shining helmet was drawn up, and from under it looked out the handsome
face that his friends loved and his foes feared. He wore beautiful armour,
all inlaid with gold, and she knew what his name was, and that he had won
this armour in a fight with another great knight, for on it was written:
'_Achilles' armes which Artegall did win._'
From that day Britomart could think of nothing but the knight whose
picture had ridden across the mirror and vanished away.
She grew thoughtful and sad, and could not sleep, for she feared it was a
dreadful thing to love a shadow.
Her old nurse slept in her room, and at night when she heard Britomart
tossing about in bed and softly crying to herself, the old woman was very
unhappy. Night after night she heard her, till she could bear it no
longer. She asked Britomart what was wrong, and Britomart sobbingly told
her.
Then the good old nurse comforted Britomart. She said she was sure that
Artegall must be a real man, and not just a shadow, and that she would
find him. Then she tucked the bedclothes round Britomart, and put out the
flickering lamp. When Britomart, much comforted, had fallen quietly
asleep, her nurse sat and watched beside her, and dropped some tears
because Britomart was no longer a little baby-girl for her to take care
of, but a grown-up girl who loved a knight.
Next day the old nurse went to the woods and gathered all sorts of herbs.
She boiled them down together, and mixed them with milk and other things,
and put them in an earthen pot. Round the pot she bound three of her hairs
plaited together. Then she said a charm over the pot, and made Britomart
turn round and round and round about it. She thought that this charm would
cure Britomart of loving the knight, and make her gay and happy again. But
the old nurse's charm was no good. Britomart grew thin and sad and ill.
Then the old woman thought of Merlin, the magician who had made the
mirror.
'It is all his fault that my princess is so sad,' she said; 'he must make
her happy again.'
So she dressed Britomart and herself in shabby old clothes, and went to
seek Merlin.
The magician lived in a dark cave under a rock. The rock lay near a
swift-rushing river that ran down between thickly wooded hills. Hollow,
fearful sounds, and a clanking, as of chains, were always heard there.
When Britomart and her nurse reached the lonely cave, and heard the noise
of moans and groans and clanking chains, they were too frightened at first
to go in. But at length they plucked up courage and entered the cave, and
found Merlin writing magic words on the dark floor. He knew very well,
although they wore shabby old clothes, that his visitors were the Princess
Britomart and the princess's nurse. But he pretended that he did not know
them, and asked them what they wanted.
'Three moons have come and gone,' said the nurse, 'since this fair maid
first turned ill. I do not know what ails her, but if you cannot cure her,
she will die.'
Merlin smiled.
'If that is all you want,' he said, 'you had better take her to a doctor.'
'If any doctor could have done her good,' said the nurse, 'I should not
have troubled you. But I fear that a witch or a wicked fairy must have
bewitched her.'
Then Merlin burst out laughing.
'Why do you go on pretending to me?' he said. 'I know all about it. This
is the beautiful Princess Britomart, and you are her nurse.'
At that Britomart blushed rosy red, but the nurse said:
'If you know all our grief, then have pity on us, and give us your help.'
Then Merlin told Britomart not to be sad, for Artegall was a real living
knight, and one of the bravest and noblest that lived. His home was in
Fairyland, but he was a king's son that the fairies had stolen away when
he was a baby.
'You shall marry Artegall,' said the magician, 'and bring him back from
Fairyland to his own country, where he shall be king.'
Then he gave her much advice, and told her of the great things that should
be done in the days to come by the sons that were to be hers and
Artegall's.
And Britomart and her nurse, with happy hearts, came away from the
magician's gloomy cave.
'But how shall we seek my knight?' asked Britomart of her nurse. 'How
shall we find him?'
The nurse said: 'Let us dress ourselves in some of the armour that your
father has taken from his enemies. You shall be a knight, and I will be
your squire. Together we will ride to Fairyland and find Artegall.'
When Britomart was dressed in shining armour of silver and gold, she
looked a very handsome, tall, young knight. Her nurse dressed her as
carefully as she had dressed her long ago in her baby-clothes, and, when
all her armour was on, she put into her hand a long spear. It was a magic
spear, and there had never yet been born a knight who could sit on his
saddle when it struck him.
In the silent night they got on their horses and rode away, no longer a
princess and her nurse, but a gallant knight and a little old squire, who
seemed to find his big shield much too heavy for him.
Before Britomart and her nurse had ridden very far, they saw two knights
riding towards them. These were Guyon and the Red Cross Knight.
Guyon rode furiously at Britomart, but Britomart rode as furiously at him
with her magic spear. And, for the first time in his life, Guyon found
himself thrown from his horse and sitting heavily down on the ground. He
was very much ashamed and very angry, and would have rushed at Britomart
with his sword. But the old palmer, who was with him, calmed his rage, and
he made friends with Britomart. And for some time Britomart and those two
brave knights rode on together, and shared fights and adventures.
One day as they rode together, Britomart asked the Red Cross Knight if he
knew a wicked knight called Artegall.
'He is not a wicked knight,' said the Red Cross Knight angrily. 'He is one
of the bravest and the best.'
Britomart was so glad to hear him say this of Artegall, that she could
scarcely hide her joy. But she went on pretending that she thought
Artegall bad and cruel, just that she might hear his friend praise him.
'There is no knight more brave than Artegall,' said the Red Cross Knight.
'Ladies who suffer wrong, and little children who have none to care for
them, are always sure of having Artegall to fight for them. He is as good
as he is brave, and as brave as he is good.'
Britomart loved the Red Cross Knight because he was so true to his friend,
and more than ever she loved Artegall, the knight of the Mirror.
Presently her way and that of the Red Cross Knight parted, and she rode on
with her squire until they came to the sea-shore.
The sea was beating against the rocks, and moaning as it cast itself
against the high crags.
Britomart made her old nurse unlace her helmet, and sat down and watched
the cold grey waves.
'I feel like a little boat beaten about by the sea,' she said. 'When shall
I ever reach my harbour, and find the knight I seek?'
For a long time she sat, sadly thinking. But at last she saw a knight
cantering along the sand, and quickly put on her helmet and leaped on her
horse, and rode to meet him.
He was a bold knight, and told her to fly, or he would kill her.
'_Fly!_' proudly said Britomart. 'Words only frighten babies. I will not
fly. I will fight you!'
Then they fought, and with her spear Britomart gave the knight a terrible
wound, and rode away, leaving him lying senseless on the shore.
Many other fights had Britomart as she sought Artegall, and always her
magic spear made her the winner.
One day she came to a place where a great many knights were having a
tournament.
A beautiful golden girdle, sparkling with jewels, was to be the prize for
the knight that fought the best.
For three days they had fought and fought, until the ground was strewed
with broken spears and swords.
On the last day of the tournament a stranger knight had appeared. His
armour did not shine with silver and gold like those of the other knights,
but looked like an old tree all overgrown with moss. His horse was decked
with oak-leaves, and he carried a battered old shield.
'The Savage Knight,' the others called him, and they would have laughed at
him and his shabby armour, had he not fought so well. All day long he
fought, and one knight after another he threw wounded or dead on the
ground. At sunset they feared him as they might have feared a fierce lion,
and none dared stand against him.
Just then Britomart rode up with her golden armour gleaming against the
sunset sky.
She couched her spear and rode at the Savage Knight, and threw him to the
ground.
The other knights then all rode at her, but them, too, she threw down with
her magic spear.
So they had to own that Britomart was the victor, and had won the golden
girdle.
Now the Savage Knight was not really a savage knight. He was no other than
Artegall, the knight of the Crystal Ball.
Artegall was so ashamed, and so angry with Britomart for having thrown him
from his horse, that when the tournament was over, he rode away to a wood,
through which he knew that Britomart must pass.
'The stranger knight with his magic spear shall fight me once again,' he
angrily said, 'and this time he shall not be the victor.'
Presently, as he sat under the trees, and watched his horse grazing, he
saw Britomart riding up, brave and fearless, in her golden armour.
Artegall sprang on his horse, and furiously rode at Britomart with his
steel-headed lance. But, in the twinkling of an eye, he found himself
lying on the turf, again unseated by the magic spear.
He rushed at Britomart then with his sword, and cut and thrust at her so
savagely that her horse backed away from him. At last he struck a great
blow at her head, and the sword, glancing down her armour, struck her
horse with such force on its back that it fell to the ground, and
Britomart had to jump off. She threw aside her spear and furiously smote
Artegall with her sword. She cut his armour through, and wounded him so
deeply that blood from his wound streamed to the ground. The blows from
Artegall's sword fell on her like hail, but she struck him as fiercely as
he struck her. The grass got trampled down and stained with blood, yet
still they smote and thrust and smote again.
At last Artegall grew very tired, and Britomart was more tired still. When
Artegall saw how tired she was, he gathered up all his strength and struck
her a terrific blow, hoping to kill her quite. But the blow only sheared
off the front part of her helmet, and left her face uncovered.
And as Artegall's arm rose again for another deadly stroke, it stopped
short in the air. For instead of the grim face of the fierce knight he
thought he was fighting, there looked out a face that Artegall thought was
the loveliest he had ever seen.
Britomart's cheeks were hot and pink, and her hair, that was so long that
it reached her feet, had burst from its band and framed her fair face like
a golden frame.
The sword slipped from Artegall's fingers to the ground. He knelt at
Britomart's feet and begged her to forgive him for having treated her so
roughly.
But Britomart was still angry with him for that last fierce stroke of his.
'Rise!' she said, 'or I shall kill you!' and she held her sword over his
head.
But Artegall would not rise, but only prayed her the more earnestly to
forgive him.
Then the old nurse drew near and begged Britomart to have a truce.
'Rest yourself for a little,' she said, 'and let the Savage Knight rest
too.'
Britomart agreed, and the knight raised the front of his helmet that he
might breathe more freely.
When Britomart saw his face, so handsome and so brave, she knew at once
that the Savage Knight that she had tried to kill was Artegall, the knight
of the Mirror.
Her arm dropped, and her sword fell from her hand.
She tried to speak roughly to him, but her tongue would not say the words.
Together they rode off to a castle, where they stayed till they were
rested and their wounds were healed.
And each day that they were together Artegall loved Britomart more and
more, until at last he could stay no longer silent, but told her that he
loved her more than all the world.
So it was that the beautiful princess Britomart found her husband, the
gallant knight of the Magic Mirror.
IV
THE QUEST OF SIR GUYON
Long ago, on the first day of every year, the Queen of the Fairies used to
give a great feast.
On that day all the bravest of her knights came to her court, and when
people wanted help to slay a dragon or a savage beast, or to drive away a
witch or wicked fairy, they also came and told their stories.
To one of those feasts there came an old palmer dressed in black. His hair
was grey, and he leaned heavily on his long staff. He told a sad tale of
the evil things done in his land by a wicked witch.
The Faery Queen turned to Guyon, one of the bravest and handsomest of her
young knights. 'You shall go with this old man and save his land,' she
said to him.
'I am not worthy,' said Sir Guyon, 'but I will do your bidding and my
best.'
So he rode away with the palmer. His good horse had never paced so slowly
before, for Guyon made him keep step with the feeble old man.
It was not possible to go far from the fairy court without having fights
and adventures, but in every fight Guyon was the victor, because he
listened to what the good old palmer said, and did not think that he
himself knew better.
One day they came to a wide river on which floated a little boat, all
decked out with green branches. In it sat a fair lady, who sang and
laughed and seemed very happy and very gay. She was a servant of the
wicked witch for whom Guyon was looking, but this Guyon did not know. She
offered to ferry Guyon across the river, but she said there was no room in
her boat for the palmer.
Guyon thought she looked so pretty and merry, and so kind, that he gladly
went with her.
Together they gaily sailed down the river. When the birds sang, she sang
along with them, and when little waves gurgled and laughed against the
side of the boat, she laughed too.
But soon Guyon found that she was not really good, and he loved her gay
laugh no longer, and presently left her and wandered on alone in the
island to which she had brought him.