Chapter X: Part THE SECOND

In high renown with prince and peer
Now liv'd sir Valentine:
His high renown with prince and peer
Made envious hearts repine.

It chanc'd the king upon a day
Prepar'd a sumptuous feast:
And there came lords and dainty dames,
And many a noble guest.

Amid their cups, that freely flow'd,
Their revelry, and mirth,
A youthful knight tax'd Valentine
Of base and doubtful birth.

The foul reproach, so grossly urg'd,
His generous heart did wound:
And straight he vow'd he ne'er would rest
Till he his parents found.

Then bidding king and peers adieu,
Early one summer's day,
With faithful Ursine by his side,
From court he took his way.

O'er hill and valley, moss and moor,
For many a day they pass;
At length, upon a moated lake,[132]
They found a bridge of brass.

Beyond it rose a castle fair,
Y-built of marble stone:
The battlements were gilt with gold,
And glittered in the sun.

Beneath the bridge, with strange device,
A hundred bells were hung;
That man, nor beast, might pass thereon,
But straight their larum rung.

This quickly found the youthful pair,
Who boldly crossing o'er,
The jangling sound bedeaft their ears,
And rung from shore to shore.

Quick at the sound the castle gates
Unlock'd and opened wide,
And straight a giant huge and grim
Stalk'd forth with stately pride.

Now yield you, caitiffs, to my will,
He cried with hideous roar;
Or else the wolves shall eat your flesh,
And ravens drink your gore.

Vain boaster, said the youthful knight,
I scorn thy threats and thee:
I trust to force thy brazen gates,
And set thy captives free.

Then putting spurs unto his steed,
He aim'd a dreadful thrust;
The spear against the giant glanc'd,
And caus'd the blood to burst.

Mad and outrageous with the pain,
He whirl'd his mace of steel:
The very wind of such a blow
Had made the champion reel.

It haply missed; and now the knight
His glittering sword display'd,
And riding round with whirlwind speed
Oft made him feel the blade.

As when a large and monstrous oak
Unceasing axes hew:
So fast around the giant's limbs
The blows quick-darting flew.

As when the boughs with hideous fall
Some hapless woodman crush:
With such a force the enormous foe
Did on the champion rush.

A fearful blow, alas! there came,
Both horse and knight it took,
And laid them senseless in the dust;
So fatal was the stroke.

Then smiling forth a hideous grin,
The giant strides in haste,
And, stooping, aims a second stroke:
Now, caitiff, breathe thy last!

But ere it fell, two thundering blows
Upon his scull descend:
From Ursine's knotty club they came,
Who ran to save his friend.

Down sank the giant gaping wide,
And rolling his grim eyes:
The hairy youth repeats his blows:
He gasps, he groans, he dies.

Quickly sir Valentine reviv'd,
With Ursine's timely care:
And now to search the castle walls
The venturous youths repair.

The blood and bones of murder'd knight
They found where'er they came:
At length within a lonely cell
They saw a mournful dame.

Her gentle eyes were dimm'd with tears;
Her cheeks were pale with woe;
And long sir Valentine besought
Her doleful tale to know.

Alas! young knight, she weeping said,
Condole my wretched fate;
A childless mother here you see;
A wife without a mate.

These twenty winters here forlorn
I've drawn my hated breath;
Sole witness of a monster's crimes,
And wishing aye for death.

Know, I am sister of a king,
And in my early years
Was married to a mighty prince,
The fairest of his peers.

With him I sweetly liv'd in love
A twelvemonth and a day:
When, lo! a foul and treacherous priest
Y-wrought our loves' decay.

His seeming goodness won him pow'r;
He had his master's ear:
And long to me and all the world
He did a saint appear.

One day, when we were all alone,
He proffer'd odious love:
The wretch with horror I repuls'd,
And from my presence drove.

He feign'd remorse, and piteous begg'd
His crime I'd not reveal:
Which, for his seeming penitence,
I promis'd to conceal.

With treason, villainy, and wrong,
My goodness he repay'd:
With jealous doubts he fill'd my lord,
And me to woe betray'd.

He hid a slave within my bed,
Then rais'd a bitter cry.
My lord, possess'd with rage, condemn'd
Me, all unheard, to die.

But 'cause I then was great with child,
At length my life he spar'd:
But bade me instant quit the realm,
One trusty knight my guard.

Forth on my journey I depart,
Oppressed with grief and woe:
And tow'rds my brother's distant court,
With breaking heart, I go.

Long time thro' sundry foreign lands
We slowly pace along:
At length, within a forest wild,
I fell in labour strong:

And while the knight for succour sought,
And left me there forlorn,
My childbed pains so fast increas'd
Two lovely boys were born.

The eldest fair and smooth as snow
That tips the mountain hoar;
The younger's little body rough
With hairs was cover'd o'er.

But here afresh begin my woes:
While tender care I took
To shield my eldest from the cold,
And wrap him in my cloak,

A prowling bear burst from the wood,
And seiz'd my younger son:
Affection lent my weakness wings,
And after them I run.

But all forwearied, weak, and spent,
I quickly swoon'd away;
And there beneath the greenwood shade
Long time I lifeless lay.

At length the knight brought me relief,
And rais'd me from the ground:
But neither of my pretty babes
Could ever more be found.

And, while in search we wander'd far,
We met that giant grim;
Who ruthless slew my trusty knight,
And bare me off with him.

But charm'd by heav'n, or else my griefs,
He offer'd me no wrong;
Save that within these lonely walls
I've been immur'd so long.

Now surely, said the youthful knight,
You are Lady Ballisance,
Wife to the Grecian Emperor:
Your brother's king of France.

For in your royal brother's court
Myself my breeding had;
Where oft the story of your woes
Hath made my bosom sad.

If so, know your accuser's dead,
And dying own'd his crime;
And long your lord hath sought you out
Thro' every foreign clime.

And when no tidings he could learn
Of his much wronged wife,
He vow'd thenceforth within his court
To lead a hermit's life.

Now heaven is kind! the lady said;
And dropped a joyful tear:
Shall I once more behold my lord?
That lord I love so dear?

But, madam, said sir Valentine,
And knelt upon his knee;
Know you the cloak that wrapt your babe,
If you the same should see?

And pulling forth the cloth of gold,
In which himself was found;
The lady gave a sudden shriek,
And fainted on the ground.

But by his pious care reviv'd,
His tale she heard anon;
And soon by other tokens found,
He was indeed her son.

But who's this hairy youth? she said;
He much resembles thee:
The bear devour'd my younger son,
Or sure that son were he.

Madam, this youth with bears was bred,
And rear'd within their den.
But recollect ye any mark
To know your son again?

Upon his little side, quoth she,
Was stamped a bloody rose.
Here, lady, see the crimson mark
Upon his body grows!

Then clasping both her new-found sons
She bath'd their cheeks with tears:
And soon towards her brother's court
Her joyful course she steers.

What pen can paint king Pepin's joy,
His sister thus restor'd!
And soon a messenger was sent
To cheer her drooping lord:

Who came in haste with all his peers,
To fetch her home to Greece;
Where many happy years they reign'd
In perfect love and peace.

To them sir Ursine did succeed,
And long the sceptre bear.
Sir Valentine he stay'd in France,
And was his uncle's heir.

FOOTNOTES:

[132] _i.e._ A lake that served for a moat to a castle.

THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD.