wedding. A feast was given in the house of the Shepherd of the Seas, and
while Cymoënt and the other nymphs were there, Marinell wandered about
outside. For because Marinell's father had been a knight and not one of
the sea-folk, Marinell might not eat the food they ate.
While the feast went gaily on, Marinell heard piteous cries coming from
under a black cliff. And when he listened, he knew that the voice was the
voice of Florimell.
The wicked old Shepherd of the Seas had found her tossing on the waves in
a little boat, and had taken her home to his deep-down caves to make her
his wife. But Florimell did not love the old man. She loved only
Marinell. So nothing that the shepherd could do would make Florimell say
that she would marry him. At last, in a rage, he shut her up in a gloomy
place under a dark rock, where no sunshine ever came.
'She will soon grow tired of the dark and the loneliness,' he thought,
'and then she will give in, and become my wife.'
But Florimell would not give in. She was crying and sobbing when Marinell
came to the rock, and he heard her say, 'Marinell, Marinell, all this I
suffer for love of thee.'
Marinell stood still and listened. Then he heard her say:--
'In spite of all this sorrow, yet will I never of my love repent,
But joy that for his sake I suffered prisonment.'
Then she gave yet more pitiful sobs, for she was very sad and cold and
hungry. Yet always she would say again, between her sobs, 'I will never
love any man but Marinell.'
Now Marinell had never in all his life truly loved any one. But when he
heard Florimell's piteous voice, and knew how she loved him, and how much
she had suffered for his sake, his heart, that had been so hard, grew
soft.
'Poor little maid,' he said to himself, 'poor, beautiful little
Florimell.'
No sooner had he begun to love Florimell, than he began to think of a plan
by which to save her from the bad old shepherd.
At first, he thought he would ask the shepherd to let her go. But he knew
that that would be no good. Then he thought that he would fight with the
shepherd, and win her in that way. But that plan he also gave up. 'I will
break into her prison, and steal her away,' he thought next. But he had no
boat, and the sea flowed all round the rock, so that it was not possible.
While he still thought and planned, the marriage-feast came to an end, and
Marinell had to go home with his mother. He looked so miserable that no
one would have taken him for a wedding-guest.
Each day that passed after the wedding found him looking more and more
sad. He could not eat nor sleep for thinking of Florimell, shut up in a
dreary dungeon from which he could not free her. For want of sleep and
food, and because he was so unhappy, Marinell grew ill. He was so weak
that he could not rise, and his mother, Cymoënt, was greatly distressed.
'The wound he got from Britomart cannot be rightly healed,' she said. So
she sent for the wise doctor of the seas.
'The old wound is quite whole,' said the doctor. 'This is a new pain which
I cannot understand.'
Then Cymoënt sent for a doctor who was so wise and so great that he was
chief of all the doctors on the land. When he had examined Marinell he
said, 'The name of this illness is Love.'
Then Cymoënt begged Marinell to tell her which of the sea-nymphs it was
that he loved.
'Whoever she is that you love,' she said, 'I shall help you to gain her
for your wife.'
So Marinell told his mother that it was no nymph of the sea that had given
his heart a deeper wound than ever Britomart's spear had dealt.
'I love Florimell,' he said, 'and she lies, a dreary prisoner, in the
darkest cave of the Herd of the Seas.'
At first Cymoënt was sorry, for she did not wish her son to wed a maiden
from the land. But when she knew how much Marinell loved Florimell, she
went to Neptune, the King of all the Seas, as he sat on his throne, his
three-pronged mace in his hand, and his long hair dripping with brine.
To him she told all the tale of Marinell and Florimell and the wicked old
shepherd.
And Neptune wrote a royal warrant, and sealed it with the seal of the Sea
Gods, commanding his shepherd to give up Florimell at once to Cymoënt the
sea-nymph.
Thankfully Cymoënt took the warrant, and swiftly swam to the shepherd's
sea-caves.
The shepherd was very angry, but all the sea-folk had to obey Neptune, so
he sulkily opened the prison door and let Florimell go free.
When the black-browed Cymoënt took hold of the little white hand of the
maiden her son loved, and looked on her lovely face, she was no longer
sorry that Marinell did not wish to marry a sea-nymph. For no maiden in
the sea was as beautiful or as sweet as Florimell.
She led Florimell to her bower, where Marinell lay so pale and weak and
sad. And when Marinell saw Florimell standing blushing beside him, her
hand in his mother's, all his sadness went away and his strength came
back, and the pain in his heart was cured.
And if you listen some night when the stars are out, and the moon has made
a silver path on the sea, you will hear the little waves that swish on the
shore softly murmuring a little song. And perhaps, if your ears are very
quick, and the big waves' thunder does not drown the sound of their
melody, you may hear them whispering the names of two happy lovers,
Florimell and Marinell.
VIII
FLORIMELL AND THE WITCH
In Fairyland, where all the knights are brave, and all the ladies
beautiful, the lady who was once the most beautiful of all was called
Florimell.
Many knights loved Florimell and wished to marry her. But Florimell loved
only one, and he was Marinell, the son of a sea-nymph and a fairy knight
And Marinell loved no one, not even Florimell.
Marinell was a bold knight, who had no sooner fought one fight than he was
ready for another.
One day there was brought to the court news of his latest fight.
Britomart, the maiden who feared no one, and who wore man's armour and
carried a magic spear, had fought with Marinell, and Marinell was dead. So
said they who brought the news.
'What will Florimell do?' whispered the court ladies, one to the other.
And all the knights were sad at heart for beautiful Florimell.
When Florimell was told what had befallen Marinell, she rose up from where
she sat.
'I go to find him,' she said. 'Living or dead, I will find Marinell.'
Florimell had long, long golden hair. Florimell's eyes were blue as the
sky, and her cheeks were pink, like the sweetest rose in the garden. A
circlet of gold and jewels crowned her head. She mounted her snow-white
palfrey with its trappings of gold, and rode away through the green woods
to look for Marinell.
Four days she rode, but she did not find him. On the fourth day, as she
passed through a lonely forest, a wicked robber saw her. He rode after her
with his heavy boar-spear, and drove his spurs into the sides of his tired
horse till the blood ran down.
When Florimell saw him, she made her palfrey gallop. Off it flew, like the
wind, with the thud of the other horse's hoofs and the crash of branches
to urge it on.
Florimell's golden hair flew behind her, till it looked like the shining
track of a shooting star. Her face was white, and her frightened eyes
shone like crystal.
Some knights who saw her flash through the trees on her white palfrey,
like a streak of light, thought that she must be a spirit.
[Illustration: Florimell's golden hair flew behind her (page 102)]
But when they saw the ugly robber on his panting horse, they knew that he
was real enough. They rode hard after him, and frightened him so much that
he hid himself in the thickest part of the forest.
Florimell passed the knights without seeing them. And even after the
robber had ceased to follow her, she fancied that she heard his rough
voice and the thud of his horse's hoofs, and made her white palfrey go
faster and yet more fast.
At last, as the palfrey tossed its head in its stride, it jerked the reins
from out her tired little hands, and went on where it pleased.
All through the night they fled. The wild deer ran, startled, before them,
and all the other beasts of the woods wondered at the sight of a white
palfrey that galloped where it would under the grey boughs of the forest,
carrying a lady whose hair gleamed like gold in the light of the stars.
When rosy dawn had come, the horse stopped at last, too tired to do
anything but stand and pant with foam-flecked mouth and heaving sides.
Then Florimell got off his back and coaxed him slowly on.
When they had wandered thus for hours, they came to a hill that shaded a
thickly wooded valley. Over the tops of the tall trees in the valley
Florimell saw a little blue curl of smoke. Glad at heart to think of
finding a shelter and resting-place for her horse and herself, she led her
palfrey towards it.
In a gloomy glen she found a little cottage built of sticks and reeds and
turf. A wicked, ugly old witch and her wicked, ugly son lived in this hut.
When Florimell came to the door, the old woman was sitting on the dusty
floor, busy with some of her evil magic. When she looked up and saw
beautiful Florimell, with her golden hair, and her face like a drooping
white lily, she got a great fright. For she thought that Florimell was a
good spirit come to punish her for all the bad things she had done.
But Florimell, with tears trickling down and making her face look like a
lily in the dew, begged her, in gentle, pleading words, to give her
shelter.
And so gentle and beautiful and sorrowful was Florimell, that, for the
first time in the whole of her wicked life, the old witch felt some pity
in her cruel heart. She told Florimell not to cry, and bade her sit down
and rest. So Florimell sat down on the dusty floor and rested, as a little
bird rests after a storm. She tried to tidy her robes that were rent by
the branches and briars through which she had passed, and she smoothed her
hair, and arranged her sparkling jewels.
The old hag sat and stared at her, and could not say a word, so much did
she marvel at Florimell's wondrous beauty.
When it was midday, the witch's son came in. At the sight of Florimell he
was as frightened as his mother had been, and stared in wonder and in
fear. But Florimell spoke to them both so gently and so kindly that soon
they no longer feared her.
She stayed with them in the wretched little hut for some time. And in that
time the witch's son came to love her, and to long to have her for his
wife. He tried to do everything that he thought would please her. He would
bring her from the woods the rosiest of the wild apples, and the prettiest
of the wildflowers he made into garlands for her hair. He caught young
birds and taught them to whistle the tunes she liked, and young squirrels
he caught and tamed and gave to her.
But Florimell feared both him and his wicked old mother. When her palfrey
had rested, and grazed on the grass in the glen until it was quite strong
once more, at daybreak one morning she put its golden trappings on again
and rode away. She shivered at each shadow, and trembled at each sound,
because she was so afraid that the witch or her son would follow her.
But these two wicked people slept until it was broad daylight and
Florimell was far away. When they awoke and found her gone, they were
furiously angry, and the witch's son was so frantic that he scratched his
own face and bit himself, and tore at his rough long hair.
'I shall bring her back, or else kill her!' said the witch.
Then she went to a dark cave, and called out of it a horrible beast like a
hyena. Its back was speckled with a thousand colours, and it could run
faster than any other beast.
'Fetch Florimell back to me!' said the witch, 'or else tear her in
pieces!'
Off the beast rushed, and before long it saw Florimell on her white horse
riding through the trees.
There was no need to make the palfrey gallop when it saw the hideous beast
with long, soft strides coming swiftly after it. The white palfrey went as
fast as a race-horse, but the beast went as fast as the wind. As they came
out of the forest, the beast's hot breath was close behind Florimell. And
by that time her horse was so tired that its pace slackened. They had come
to where there were no more trees, and in front of them lay yellow sand,
and a long, long stretch of blue-green sea. When Florimell saw the sea,
she leaped from her tired horse and ran and ran.
'I had rather be drowned,' she thought, 'than be killed by that loathsome
monster.'
Now, an old fisherman had been drying his nets on the sand, and while they
dried he slept in the bottom of his little boat, that lay heaving gently
up and down in the shallows.
When Florimell saw this boat, she ran towards it and jumped in, and, with
an oar, pushed it off into deeper water. The beast got to the water's edge
just too late, for it was afraid of the sea and dared not follow her. In a
rage it fell upon the white palfrey and tore it in pieces, and was eating
it when a good knight who knew Florimell passed that way. He knew that the
white horse was Florimell's, so he attacked the beast, and cut it and
struck it so furiously with his sword that all its strength was beaten out
of it and he could easily have killed it. But the knight thought that he
would rather catch the strange beast and lead it home with him.
Lying on the sand near the dead white palfrey, he saw a golden girdle that
sparkled with jewels, and that he had seen worn by Florimell. With this
girdle he bound the beast, and led it after him like a dog. As he led it,
he met a wicked giantess, and while he fought with her the beast escaped
and ran away back to the witch's hut.
When the witch saw Florimell's jewelled girdle she was glad, for she
thought that the beast must have killed Florimell. She ran with it to her
son, but the sight of it, without Florimell, made him so angry that he
tried to kill both the beast and his mother. The witch was so frightened
that she set all her magic to work, to try to comfort her son. With snow
and mercury and wax she made an image as like Florimell as she could. Its
cheeks were rosy, like Florimell's, and she took two little burning lamps
and put them in silver sockets, so that they looked just like Florimell's
bright eyes. Her hair she made of the very finest golden wire. She dressed
the image in some clothes that Florimell, in her flight, had left behind
her, and round its waist she fastened Florimell's jewelled girdle. Then
she put a wicked fairy inside the image, and told him to do his very best
to act and to talk and to walk like Florimell. This image she then led to
her son, and he thought it was the real Florimell come back, and was
delighted. The false Florimell was not afraid of him as the real Florimell
had been, and would walk in the woods with him, and listen, quite pleased,
to all that he had to say.
But as they were in the forest one day, a bad knight saw them, and thought
the false Florimell so beautiful that he seized her and rode away with
her, and left the witch's son more sad and angry than ever.
When the real Florimell had escaped from the beast, the little boat that
she pushed off from the shore went gaily sailing onward and onward with
the tide. They were far out at sea when the old fisherman awoke. He got a
great fright when he found himself far from the shore, and with a lovely
lady beside him. But he was a very bad old man, and when he saw
Florimell's fine jewels and beautiful clothes he thought he would rob her.
He knocked her down into the bottom of his boat amongst the fishes'
scales, and might have killed her, had not Florimell screamed and screamed
for help. There was no ship near, and the waves and the sea-birds could
not help her.
But it chanced that the shepherd of all the flocks in the sea was driving
his chariot that way. He was an old man with long white hair and beard.
Sometimes on a stormy day one may see him far out at sea, as he drives his
flocks that look from far away like snowy froth and foam.
When the shepherd saw the wicked fisherman struggling with Florimell, he
beat the old robber so hard with his staff that there soon was very little
life left in him. Then he lifted Florimell, all tearful and trembling,
into his chariot. When she could only cry, he gently kissed her. But his
lips were frosty cold, and icicles from his long white beard dropped on to
her breast and made her shiver.
He took her to his home in a hollow rock at the bottom of the sea, and he
asked her to be his wife.
'I cannot marry you,' said Florimell. 'I do not love you. My only love is
Marinell.'
Then the cunning old shepherd by magic made himself look like a fairy
knight, and thought that Florimell would love him.
'I do not love you. I love Marinell,' still was Florimell's answer.
He then tried to frighten Florimell and make her marry him, whether she
would or not. He turned himself into dreadful shapes--giants, and all
sorts of animals and monsters. He went inside the waves, and made
terrifying storms rage. But nothing that he might do would make Florimell
consent to marry him.
At last he imprisoned her in a dark cavern.
'She will soon tire of that, and then she will marry me,' said he to
himself.
But Florimell said the more, 'I love only Marinell. I am glad to suffer,
because I suffer for Marinell's dear sake.'
She might have died there, and been buried under the sea-flowers of
scarlet and green, and had the gay little fishes dart over her grave, and
none might ever have known.
But, by happy chance, Marinell came that way. He heard her voice coming
out of her prison far beneath the sea, like the echo of a sad song, and
suddenly he knew that he loved her.
The sea-nymph, his mother, told Neptune, King of the Seas, that his
shepherd had imprisoned a beautiful maiden in his darkest cave, and begged
him to set Florimell free, that she might become Marinell's wife.
So Florimell was set free at last, and all her troubles were ended.
Marinell took her away from the kingdom under the sea back to Fairyland,
and they were married in a castle by the golden strand. Every beautiful
lady and every brave knight in Fairyland was there. They had tournaments
every day, and each knight fought for the lady he thought the most
beautiful and loved the best.
Marinell was victor in every fight but one, and in this he was beaten by
another brave knight. This knight had on his shield a device of a blazing
sun on a golden field.
When he had fought and won the prize, this shield was stolen from him by
the wicked knight who had run away with the false Florimell. No one could
see the faces of the knights, for their helmets covered them. So when the
wicked knight came forward, carrying the blazing shield, and pretended
that he had won the prize, Florimell, who was queen of the revels, handed
him the victor's garland, and praised him for having fought so well.
'I did not fight for you!' roughly answered the knight. 'I would not fight
for you! I fight for one more beautiful.'
Florimell blushed for shame, but before any one could answer him, the
knight drew forward the false Florimell and threw back her veil.
And even Marinell could not tell that she was not his own beautiful bride
that he loved so dearly, so exactly like the real Florimell had the witch
made the image.
Just then the knight whose shield had been stolen pushed through the
crowd.
'You false coward with your borrowed plumes!' he cried. 'Where is the
sword you pretend that you fought with? Where are your wounds?'
With that he showed his own bloody sword, and his own bleeding wounds, and
every one knew that the wicked knight had lied when he said that it was he
who had won the fight.
'This is not the real Florimell!' said the brave knight of the blazing
shield, pointing at the image. 'It is a wicked fairy, who is a fit mate
for this base coward. Bring forward Florimell the bride, and let us see
them side by side!'
So Florimell, blushing till her face looked like a nosegay of roses and
lilies, was led forward, and stood beside the image of herself. But no
sooner did she come near the image, than the image melted away, and
vanished altogether. Nothing of it was left but the girdle of gold and
jewels that Florimell had lost on the day she escaped from the witch's
hut. And this the brave knight picked up, and clasped round Florimell's
waist. The wicked knight had his armour taken from him, and was beaten
until he ran howling away.
And Florimell, the fairest lady in all Fairyland, lived happily ever after
with her gallant husband, Marinell, the Lord of the Golden Strand.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, LTD.