towel of white linen on her shoulder, and gave Owain water to wash.
Then she placed before him a silver table inlaid with gold, upon which
was a cloth of yellow linen, and she brought him food. And of a truth
Owain had never seen any kind of meat that was not there in abundance;
but it was better cooked there than he had ever found it in any other
place. Nor did he ever see so excellent a display of meat and drink
as there. And there was not one vessel from which he was served that
was not of gold or of silver. And Owain ate and drank until late in
the afternoon, when, lo, they heard a mighty clamor in the castle. And
Owain asked the maiden what that outcry was.
"They are administering extreme unction,"[7] said she, "to the nobleman
who owns the castle."
[Footnote 7: The last rite of the church to a dying person.]
And Owain went to sleep.
And a little after daybreak they heard an exceeding loud clamor and
wailing. And Owain asked the maiden what was the cause of it.
"They are bearing to the church the body of the nobleman who owned the
castle."
And Owain rose up and clothed himself, and opened a window of the
chamber, and looked towards the castle. And he could see neither the
bounds nor the extent of the hosts that filled the streets. And they
were fully armed. And a vast number of women were with them, both on
horseback and on foot; and all the ecclesiastics in the city, singing.
And it seemed to Owain that the sky resounded with the vehemence of
their cries, and with the noise of the trumpets, and with the singing
of the ecclesiastics. In the midst of the throng he beheld the bier,
over which was a veil of white linen; and wax tapers were burning
beside and around it, and none that supported the bier was lower in
rank than a powerful baron.
Never did Owain see an assemblage so gorgeous with satin and silk and
sendal. And following the train he beheld a lady, with yellow hair
falling over her shoulders, and stained with blood, and about her a
dress of yellow satin, which was torn. Upon her feet were shoes of
variegated leather. And it was a marvel that the ends of her fingers
were not bruised, from the violence with which she smote her hands
together. Truly she would have been the fairest lady Owain ever saw,
had she been in her usual guise. And her cry was louder than the shout
of the men or the clamor of the trumpets. No sooner had he beheld the
lady than he became inflamed with her love, so that it took entire
possession of him.
Then he inquired of the maiden who the lady was.
"Heaven knows," replied the maiden, "she may be said to be the fairest,
and the most chaste, and the most liberal, and the wisest, and the
most noble, of women; and she is my mistress. And she is called the
'Countess of the Fountain,' the wife of him whom thou didst slay
yesterday."
"Verily," said Owain, "she is the woman that I love best."
"Verily," said the maiden, "she shall also love thee not a little."
And with that the maid arose, and kindled a fire, and filled a pot with
water and placed it to warm; and she brought a towel of white linen
and placed it around Owain's neck; and she took a goblet of ivory and
a silver basin, and filled them with warm water, wherewith she washed
Owain's head. Then she opened a wooden casket and drew forth a razor
whose haft was of ivory, and upon which were two rivets of gold. And
she shaved his beard and she dried his head and his throat with the
towel. Then she rose up from before Owain, and brought him to eat. And
truly Owain had never so good a meal, nor was he ever so well served.
When he had finished his repast, the maiden arranged his couch.
"Come here," said she, "and sleep, and I will go and woo for thee."
And Owain went to sleep; and the maiden shut the door of the chamber
after her, and went towards the castle. When she came there, she found
nothing but mourning and sorrow; and the countess in her chamber could
not bear the sight of any one through grief. Luned came and saluted
her; but the countess answered her not. And the maiden bent down
towards her, and said, "What aileth thee, that thou answerest no one
to-day?"
"Luned," said the countess, "what change hath befallen thee, that thou
hast not come to visit me in my grief? It was wrong in thee, and I
having made thee rich--it was wrong in thee that thou didst not come to
see me in my distress. That was wrong in thee. As it is, I will banish
thee."
"I am glad," said Luned, "that thou hast no other cause to do so than
that I would have been of service to thee where thou didst not know
what was to thine advantage. And henceforth evil betide whichever of
us shall make the first advance towards reconciliation to the other;
whether I should seek an invitation from thee, or thou of thine own
accord shouldst send to invite me."
With that Luned went forth. And the countess arose, and followed her
to the door of the chamber, and began coughing loudly. And, when Luned
looked back, the countess beckoned to her, and she returned to the
countess.
"In truth," said the countess, "evil is thy disposition; but, if thou
knowest what is to my advantage, declare it to me."
"I will do so," quoth she.
"Thou knowest that except by warfare and arms it is impossible for thee
to preserve thy possessions. Delay not, therefore, to seek some one who
can defend them."
"And how can I do that?" said the countess.
"I will tell thee," said Luned. "Unless thou canst defend the fountain,
thou canst not maintain thy dominions; and no one can defend the
fountain, except it be a knight of Arthur's household. And I will go to
Arthur's court; and ill betide me if I return thence without a warrior
who can guard the fountain as well as, or even better than, he who
defended it formerly."
"That will be hard to perform," said the countess. "Go, however, and
make proof of that which thou hast promised."
Luned set out, under the pretence of going to Arthur's court; but she
went back to the chamber where she had left Owain. And she tarried
there with him as long as it might have taken her to have travelled to
the court of King Arthur. And at the end of that time she apparelled
herself, and went to visit the countess. And the countess was much
rejoiced when she saw her, and inquired what news she brought from the
court.
"I bring thee the best of news," said Luned, "for I have compassed the
object of my mission. When wilt thou that I should present to thee the
chieftain who has come with me hither?"
"Bring him here to visit me to-morrow at mid-day," said the countess,
"and I will cause the town to be assembled by that time."
And Luned returned home. And the next day, at noon, Owain arrayed
himself in a coat and a surcoat and a mantle of yellow satin upon which
was a broad band of gold lace; and on his feet were high shoes of
variegated leather, which were fastened by golden clasps in the form of
lions. And they proceeded to the chamber of the countess.
Right glad was the countess of their coming, and she gazed steadfastly
upon Owain, and said, "Luned, this knight has not the look of a
traveller."
"What harm is there in that, lady?" said Luned.
"I am certain," said the countess, "that no other man than this chased
the soul from the body of my lord."
"So much the better for thee, lady," said Luned; "for, had he not been
stronger than thy lord, he could not have deprived him of life. There
is no remedy for that which is past, be it as it may."
"Go back to thine abode," said the countess, "and I will take counsel."
The next day the countess caused all her subjects to assemble, and
showed them that her earldom was left defenceless, and that it could
not be protected but with horse and arms, and military skill.
"Therefore," said she, "this is what I offer for your choice: either
let one of you take me, or give your consent for me to take a husband
from elsewhere to defend my dominions."
So they came to the determination that it was better that she should
have permission to marry some one from elsewhere. And thereupon she
sent for the bishops and archbishops to celebrate her nuptials with
Owain. And the men of the earldom did Owain homage.
And Owain defended the fountain with lance and sword. And this is the
manner in which he defended it: whensoever a knight came there, he
overthrew him and sold him for his full worth, and what he thus gained
he divided among his barons and his knights; and no man in the whole
world could be more beloved than he was by his subjects. And it was
thus for the space of three years.
* * * * *
It befell that as Gwalchmai[8] went forth one day with King Arthur he
perceived him to be very sad and sorrowful. And Gwalchmai was much
grieved to see Arthur in this state, and he questioned him, saying,
"Oh, my lord! what has befallen thee?"
[Footnote 8: This Gwalchmai--a name which in Old British means _Hawk of
Battle_--is our old friend "Sir Gawaine" of _The Boy's King Arthur_.
The French romancers appear to have transformed his name from the old
legendary "Gwalchmai" to "Gawaine." He was noted in Welsh poetry as one
of the three golden-tongued knights of Arthur's court whose persuasions
none could resist; and this may account for the strange subjection of
Arthur to his influence in leading the king, against the king's will
and desire, to war upon Sir Launcelot during those last days described
in Sir Thomas Malory's book.]
"In sooth, Gwalchmai," said Arthur, "I am grieved concerning Owain,
whom I have lost these three years; and I shall certainly die if the
fourth year passes without my seeing him. Now I am sure that it is
through the tale which Kynon, the son of Clydno, related, that I have
lost Owain."
"There is no need for thee," said Gwalchmai, "to summon to arms thy
whole dominions on this account; for thou thyself and the men of thy
household will be able to avenge Owain if he be slain, or to set him
free if he be in prison, and if alive to bring him back with thee." And
it was settled according to what Gwalchmai had said.
Then Arthur and the men of his household prepared to go and seek Owain;
and their number was three thousand, besides their attendants. And
Kynon, the son of Clydno, acted as their guide. And Arthur came to the
castle where Kynon had been before; and when he came there the youths
were shooting in the same place, and the yellow man was standing hard
by. When the yellow man saw Arthur, he greeted him and invited him
to the castle. And Arthur accepted his invitation, and they entered
the castle together. And, great as was the number of his retinue,
their presence was scarcely observed in the castle, so vast was its
extent. And the maidens rose up to wait on them; and the service of the
maidens appeared to them all to excel any attendance they had ever met
with; and even the pages who had charge of the horses were no worse
served that night than Arthur himself would have been in his own palace.
The next morning, Arthur set out thence with Kynon for his guide, and
came to the place where the black man was. And the stature of the black
man was more surprising to Arthur than it had been represented to him.
And they came to the top of the wooded steep, and traversed the valley
till they reached the green tree, where they saw the fountain, and the
bowl, and the slab. And upon that Kai came to Arthur, and spoke to him.
"My lord," said he, "I know the meaning of all this; and my request is
that thou wilt permit me to throw the water on the slab, and to receive
the first adventure that may befall."
And Arthur gave him leave.
Then Kai threw a bowlful of water upon the slab, and immediately
there came the thunder, and after the thunder the shower. And such a
thunderstorm they had never known before, and many of the attendants
who were in Arthur's train were killed by the shower. After the shower
had ceased the sky became clear, and on looking at the tree they beheld
it completely leafless. Then the birds descended upon the tree; and
the song of the birds was far sweeter than any strain they had ever
heard before. Then they beheld a knight on a coal-black horse, clothed
in black satin, coming rapidly towards them. And Kai met him and
encountered him, and it was not long before Kai was overthrown. And the
knight withdrew, and Arthur and his host encamped for the night.
And when they arose in the morning they perceived the signal of combat
upon the lance of the knight. And Kai came to Arthur and spoke to him.
"My lord," said he, "though I was overthrown yesterday, if it seem good
to thee I would gladly meet the knight again to-day."
"Thou mayst do so," said Arthur.
And Kai went towards the knight. And on the spot he overthrew Kai, and
struck him with the head of his lance in the forehead, so that it broke
his helmet and the headpiece, and pierced the skin and the flesh the
breadth of the spear-head, even to the bone. And Kai returned to his
companions.
After this, all the household of Arthur went forth one after the other
to combat the knight, until there was not one that was not overthrown
by him except Arthur and Gwalchmai. And Arthur armed himself to
encounter the knight.
"Oh, my lord!" said Gwalchmai, "permit me to fight with him first."
And Arthur permitted him. And he went forth to meet the knight, having
over himself and his horse a satin robe of honor which had been sent
him by the daughter of the Earl of Rhangyw; and in this dress he was
not known by any of the host. And they charged each other, and fought
all that day until the evening; and neither of them was able to
unhorse the other.
The next day they fought with strong lances, and neither of them could
obtain the mastery.
And the third day they fought with exceeding strong lances. And they
were incensed with rage, and fought furiously, even until noon. And
they gave each other such a shock that the girths of their horses were
broken, so that they fell over their horses' cruppers to the ground.
And they rose up speedily and drew their swords and resumed the combat.
And the multitude that witnessed their encounter felt assured that
they had never before seen two men so valiant or so powerful. And, had
it been midnight, it would have been light from the fire that flashed
from their weapons. And the knight gave Gwalchmai a blow that turned
his helmet from off his face, so that the knight knew that it was
Gwalchmai. Then Owain said, "My lord Gwalchmai, I did not know thee
for my cousin, owing to the robe of honor that enveloped thee. Take my
sword and my arms."
Said Gwalchmai, "Thou, Owain, art the victor. Take thou my sword."
And with that Arthur saw that they were conversing, and advanced
towards them.
"My lord Arthur," said Gwalchmai, "here is Owain, who has vanquished me
and will not take my arms."
"My lord," said Owain, "it is he that has vanquished me and he will not
take my sword."
"Give me your swords," said Arthur, "and then neither of you has
vanquished the other."
Then Owain put his arms around Arthur's neck, and they embraced. And
all the host hurried forward to see Owain, and to embrace him; and
there was nigh being a loss of life, so great was the press.
And they retired that night, and the next day Arthur prepared to depart.
"My lord," said Owain, "this is not well of thee; for I have been
absent from thee these three years, and during all that time, up to
this very day, I have been preparing a banquet for thee, knowing that
thou wouldst come to seek me. Tarry with me, therefore, until thou and
thy attendants have recovered the fatigues of the journey and have been
anointed."
And they all proceeded to the castle of the Countess of the Fountain.
And the banquet which had been three years preparing was consumed in
three months. Never had they a more delicious or agreeable banquet. And
Arthur prepared to depart. Then he sent an embassy to the countess,
[beseeching] her to permit Owain to go with him for the space of three
months, that he might show him to the nobles and the fair dames of
the Island of Britain. And the countess gave her consent, although it
was very painful to her. So Owain came with Arthur to the Island of
Britain. And, when he was once more amongst his kindred and friends, he
remained three years, instead of three months, with them.
And, as Owain one day sat at meat in the city of Caerlleon-upon-Usk,
behold a damsel entered, upon a bay horse with a curling mane and
covered with foam; and the bridle and so much as was seen of the saddle
were of gold. And the damsel was arrayed in a dress of yellow satin.
And she came up to Owain, and took the ring from off his hand.
"Thus," said she, "shall be treated the deceiver, the traitor, the
faithless, the disgraced, and the beardless."
And she turned her horse's head, and departed.
Then his adventure came to Owain's remembrance, and he was sorrowful;
and, having finished eating, he went to his own abode and made
preparations that night. And the next day he arose, [yet] did not go
to the court, but wandered to the distant parts of the earth and to
uncultivated mountains. And he remained there until all his apparel was
worn out, and his body was wasted away, and his hair was grown long.
And he went about with the wild beasts, and fed with them, until they
became familiar with him. But at length he grew so weak that he could
no longer bear them company. Then he descended from the mountains to
the valley, and came to a park that was the fairest in the world and
belonged to a widowed countess.
One day the countess and her maidens went forth to walk by a lake that
was in the middle of the park; and they saw the form of a man. And they
were terrified. Nevertheless, they went near him, and touched him, and
looked at him. And they saw that there was life in him, though he was
exhausted by the heat of the sun. And the countess returned to the
castle, and took a flask full of precious ointment and gave it to one
of her maidens.
"Go with this," said she, "and take with thee yonder horse and
clothing, and place them near the man we saw just now. And anoint him
with this balsam, near his heart; and if there is life in him he will
arise through the efficacy of this balsam. Then watch what he will do."
And the maiden departed from her, and poured the whole of the balsam
upon Owain, and left the horse and the garments hard by, and went a
little way off and hid herself to watch him. In a short time she saw
him begin to move his arms. And he rose up and looked at his person,
and became ashamed of the unseemliness of his appearance. Then he
perceived the horse and the garments that were near him. And he crept
forward till he was able to draw the garments to him from off the
saddle. And he clothed himself, and with difficulty mounted the horse.
Then the damsel discovered herself to him, and saluted him. And he
was rejoiced when he saw her, and inquired of her what land and what
territory that was.
[Illustration: THE RECOVERY OF OWAIN.]
"Truly," said the maiden, "a widowed countess owns yonder castle. At
the death of her husband he left her two earldoms; but at this day she
has [only] this one dwelling that has not been wrested from her by a
young earl who is her neighbor, because she refused to become his wife."
"That is pity," said Owain.
And he and the maiden proceeded to the castle. And he alighted there;
and the maiden conducted him to a pleasant chamber, and kindled a fire,
and left him.
And the maiden came to the countess, and gave the flask into her hand.
"Ha, maiden!" said the countess, "where is all the balsam?"
"Have I not used it all?" said she.
"Oh, maiden!" said the countess, "I cannot easily forgive thee this.
It is sad for me to have wasted sevenscore pounds' worth of precious
ointment upon a stranger whom I know not. However, maiden, wait thou
upon him until he is quite recovered."
And the maiden did so, and furnished him with meat and drink and fire
and lodging and medicaments until he was well again. And in three
months he was restored to his former guise, and became even more comely
than he had ever been before.
One day Owain heard a great tumult and a sound of arms in the castle,
and he inquired of the maiden the cause thereof.
"The earl," said she, "whom I mentioned to thee, has come before the
castle with a numerous army, to subdue the countess."
And Owain inquired of her whether the countess had a horse and arms in
her possession.
"She has the best in the world," said the maiden.
"Wilt thou go and request the loan of a horse and arms for me," said
Owain, "that I may go and look at this army?"
"I will," said the maiden.
And she came to the countess, and told her what Owain had said. And the
countess laughed.
"Truly," said she, "I will even give him a horse and arms forever--such
a horse and such arms had he never yet. And I am glad that they should
be taken by him to-day, lest my enemies should have them against my
will to-morrow. Yet I know not what he would do with them."
The countess bade them bring out a beautiful black steed upon which
was a beechen saddle, and a suit of armor for man and horse. And Owain
armed himself, and mounted the horse and went forth, attended by two
pages completely equipped with horses and arms. And, when they came
near to the earl's army, they could see neither its extent nor its
extremity. And Owain asked the pages in which troop the earl was.
"In yonder troop," said they, "in which are four yellow standards: two
of them are before, and two behind, him."
"Now," said Owain, "do you return, and await me near the portal of the
castle."
So they returned; and Owain pressed forward until he met the earl. And
Owain drew him completely out of his saddle and turned his horse's head
towards the castle, and, though it was with difficulty, he brought the
earl to the portal, where the pages awaited him. And in they came. And
Owain presented the earl as a gift to the countess, and said to her,
"Behold a requital to thee for thy blessed balsam."
The army encamped around the castle. And the earl restored to the
countess the two earldoms he had taken from her, as a ransom for his
life; and for his freedom he gave her the half of his own dominions,
and all his gold and his silver and his jewels, besides hostages.
And Owain took his departure. And the countess and all her subjects
besought him to remain; but Owain chose rather to wander through
distant lands and deserts.
And as he journeyed he heard a loud yelling in a wood. And it was
repeated a second and a third time. And Owain went towards the spot,
and beheld a huge craggy mound in the middle of the wood, on the side
of which was a gray rock. And there was a cleft in the rock, and a
serpent was within the cleft. And near the rock stood a black lion; and
every time the lion sought to go thence the serpent darted towards him
to attack him. And Owain unsheathed his sword, and drew near to the
rock; and, as the serpent sprang out, he struck him with his sword and
cut him in two. And he dried his sword, and went on his way as before.
But, behold, the lion followed him and played about him as though it
had been a greyhound that he had reared.
They proceeded thus throughout the day until the evening. And when
it was time for Owain to take his rest he dismounted, and turned his
horse loose in a flat and wooded meadow. And he struck fire, and when
the fire was kindled the lion brought him fuel enough to last for three
nights. And the lion disappeared. And presently the lion returned,
bearing a fine large roebuck. And he threw it down before Owain, who
went towards the fire with it.
And Owain took the roebuck, and skinned it, and placed collops of its
flesh upon skewers around the fire. The rest of the buck he gave to the
lion to devour. While he was doing this, he heard a deep sigh near him,
and a second, and a third. And Owain called out to know whether the
sigh he heard proceeded from a mortal, and he received answer that it
did.
"Who art thou?" said Owain.
"Truly," said the voice, "I am Luned, the handmaiden of the Countess of
the Fountain."
"And what dost thou here?" said Owain.
"I am imprisoned," said she, "on account of the knight who came from
Arthur's court and married the countess. And he staid a short time
with her; but he afterwards departed for the court of Arthur, and has
not returned since. And he was the friend I loved best in the world.
And two of the pages in the countess' chamber traduced him, and called
him a deceiver. And I told them that they two were not a match for him
alone. So they imprisoned me in the stone vault, and said that I should
be put to death unless he came himself to deliver me by a certain day;
and that is no further off than the day after to-morrow. And I have
no one to send to seek him for me. And his name is Owain, the son of
Urien."
"And art thou certain that if that knight knew all this he would come
to thy rescue?"
"I am most certain of it," said she.
When the collops were cooked, Owain divided them into two parts,
between himself and the maiden; and after they had eaten they talked
together until the day dawned. And the next morning Owain inquired
of the damsel if there was any place where he could get food and
entertainment for that night.