[Illustration: GUY EARL OF WARWICK]

LEGENDS THAT EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW

A SELECTION OF THE GREAT LEGENDS OF ALL TIMES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

EDITED BY HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE

ILLUSTRATED AND DECORATED BY BLANCHE OSTERTAG

INTRODUCTION

If we knew how the words in our language were made and what they havemeant to successive generations of the men and women who have used them, we should have a new and very interesting kind of history to read. Forwords, like all other creations of man, were not deliberatelymanufactured to meet a need, as are the various parts of a bicycle or ofan automobile; but grew gradually and slowly out of experiences whichcompelled their production. For it is one of the evidences of thebrotherhood of men that, either by the pressure of necessity or of theinstinct to describe to others what has happened to ourself and so makecommon property of personal experience, no interesting or influential orsignificant thing can befall a man that is not accompanied by a desireto communicate it to others. 

The word legend has a very interesting history, which sheds light notonly on its origin but on early habits of thought and customs. It isderived from the Latin verb _legere_, which means "to read. " Aslegends are often passed down by word of mouth and are not reduced towriting until they have been known for centuries by great numbers ofpeople, it seems difficult at first glance to see any connection betweenthe Latin word and its English descendant. In Russia and othercountries, where large populations live remote from cities and arepractically without books and newspapers, countless stories are told bypeasant mothers to their children, by reciters or semi-professionalstory-tellers, which have since been put into print. For a good manyhundred years, probably, the vast majority of legends were not read;they were heard. 

When we understand, however, what the habits of people were in the earlyChristian centuries and what the early legends were about, the originalmeaning of the word is not only clear but throws light on the history ofthis fascinating form of literature. The early legends, as a rule, hadto do with religious people or with places which had religiousassociations; they were largely concerned with the saints and werefreely used in churches for the instruction of the people. In allchurches selections from some book or books are used as part of theservice; readings from the Old and New Testament are included in theworship of all churches in Christendom. In the earliest times not onlywere Lessons from the Old Testament and the Gospels and Epistles of theNew Testament read, but letters of bishops and selections from otherwritings which were regarded as profitable for religious instruction. Later stories of the saints and passages from the numerous lives whichappeared were read at different services and contributed greatly totheir interest. The first legends in Christian countries were incidentsfrom the lives of the saints and were included in the selections madefrom various writings for public worship; these selections were called_legends_. The history of the word makes clear, therefore, theorigin and early history of the class of stories which we call legends. 

The use of the stories at church services led to the collection, orderlyarrangement and reshaping of a great mass of material which grew rapidlybecause so many people were interested in these semi-religious tales. Inthe beginning the stories had, as a rule, some basis in fact, though itwas often very slight. As time went on the element of fact grew smallerand the element of fiction larger; stories which were originally veryshort were expanded into long tales and became highly imaginative. Inthe Thirteenth Century the _Legenda Aurea_, or Golden Legend, whichbecame one of the most popular books of the Middle Ages, appeared. Intime, as the taste for this kind of writing grew, the word legend cameto include any story which, under a historical form, gave an account ofan historical or imaginary person. 

During the Middle Ages verse-making was very popular and very widelypractised; for versification is very easy when people are in the habitof using it freely, and a verse is much more easily remembered than aline of prose. For many generations legends were versified. It must beremembered that verse and poetry are often very far apart; and poetry isas difficult to compose as verse is easy. The versified legends werevery rarely poetic; they were simply narratives in verse. Occasionallymen of poetic genius took hold of these old stories and gave thembeautiful forms as did the German poet Hartmann von Aue in "Der ArmeHeinrich. " With the tremendous agitation which found expression in theReformation, interest in legends died out, and was not renewed until theEighteenth Century, when men and women, grown weary of artificial andmechanical forms of literature, turned again to the old stories andsongs which were the creation of less self-conscious ages. With therevival of interest in ballads, folk-stories, fairy stories and mythscame a revival of interest in legends. 

The myths were highly imaginative and poetic explanations of the worldand of the life of man in it at a time when scientific knowledge andhabits of thought had not come into existence. The fairy story was "afree poetic dealing with realities in accordance with the law of mentalgrowth, . .. A poetic wording of the facts of life, . .. An endeavour toshape the facts of the world to meet the needs of the imagination, thecravings of the heart. " The legend, dealing originally with incidents inthe lives of the saints and with places made sacred by association withholy men, has, as a rule, some slight historical basis; is cast innarrative form and told as a record of fact; and, in cases where it isentirely imaginative, deals with some popular type of character likeRobin Hood or Rip Van Winkle; or with some mysterious or tragic event, as Tennyson's "Idylls of the King" are poetic renderings of part of agreat mass of legends which grew up about a little group of imaginary orsemi-historical characters; Longfellow's "Golden Legend" is a modernrendering of a very old mediaeval tale; Irving's "Legend of SleepyHollow" is an example of purely imaginative prose, and Heine's "Lorelei"of a purely imaginative poetic legend. 

The legend is not so sharply defined as the myth and the fairy story, and it is not always possible to separate it from these old forms ofstories; but it always concerns itself with one or more characters; itassumes to be historical; it is almost always old and haunts somelocality like a ghost; and it has a large admixture of fiction, evenwhere it is not wholly fictitious. Like the myth and fairy story itthrows light on the mind and character of the age that produced it; itis part of the history of the unfolding of the human mind in the world;and, above all, it is interesting. 

HAMILTON W. MABIE. 

CHAPTER PAGE

I. HIAWATHA From "Indian Myths. " By Ellen Emerson. 

II. BEOWULF From "A Book of Famous Myths and Legends. "

III. CHILDE HORN From "A Book of Famous Myths and Legends. "

IV. SIR GALAHAD Alfred Tennyson. 

V. RUSTEM AND SOHRAB From "The Epic of Kings. Stories Retold from Firdusi. " By Helen Zimmern. 

VI. THE SEVEN SLEEPERS OF EPHESUS From "Curious Myths of the Middle Ages. " By Sabine Baring-Gould. 

VII. GUY OF WARWICK From "Popular Romances of the Middle Ages. " By George W. Cox, M. A. And Eustace Hinten Jones. 

VIII. CHEVY CHASE From "The English and Scottish Popular Ballads. " Edited by Francis James Child. 

IX. THE FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF LIR From "Gods and Fighting Men: The Story of the Tuatha de Danaan and of the Fianna of Ireland. " Arranged and put into English by Lady Gregory. 

X. THE BELEAGUERED CITY From "Voices of the Night. " By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

XI. PRESTER JOHN From "Curious Myths of the Middle Ages. " By Sabine Baring-Gould. 

XII. THE WANDERING JEW From "Curious Myths of the Middle Ages. " By Sabine Baring-Gould. 

XIII. KING ROBERT OF SICILY From "The Wayside Inn. " By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

XIV. THE LIFE OF THE BEATO TORELLO DA POPPI From "Il Libro d'Oro of Those Whose Names are Written in the Lamb's Book of Life. " Translated from the Italian by Mrs. Francis Alexander. Originally written in Latin by Messer Torrelo of Casentino, Canonico of Fiesole, and put into Italian by Don Silvano. 

XV. THE LORELEI From the German of Heinrich Heine. 

XVI. THE PASSING OF ARTHUR From "Idylls of the King. " By Alfred Tennyson. 

XVII. RIP VAN WINKLE Washington Irving. 

XVIII. THE GRAY CHAMPION From "Twice Told Tales. " By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

XIX. THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW Washington Irving. 

CHAPTER I

WIGWAM LEGEND OF HIAWATHA [Footnote: This story is ascribed to Abrahamle Fort, an Onondaga chief, a graduate of Geneva College. The poem ofLongfellow has given it general interest. Hiawatha is an example of theintellectual capacity of one of that race of whom it has been said "Takethese Indians in their owne trimme and naturall disposition, and theybee reported to bee wise, lofty spirited, constant in friendship to oneanother: true in their promise, and more industrious than manyothers. "--Wood's, "New England's Prospect, " London, 1634. ]

On the banks of Tioto, or Cross Lake, resided an eminent man who borethe name of Hiawatha, or the Wise Man. 

This name was given him, as its meaning indicates, on account of hisgreat wisdom in council and power in war. Hiawatha was of high andmysterious origin. He had a canoe which would move without paddles, obedient to his will, and which he kept with great care and never usedexcept when he attended the general council of the tribes. It was fromHiawatha the people learned to raise corn and beans; through hisinstructions they were enabled to remove obstructions from the watercourses and clear their fishing grounds; and by him they were helped toget the mastery over the great monsters which overran the country. Thepeople listened to him with ever increasing delight; and he gave themwise laws and maxims from the Great Spirit, for he had been second tohim only in power previous to his taking up his dwelling with mankind. 

Having selected the Onondagas for his tribe, years passed away inprosperity; the Onondagas assumed an elevated rank for their wisdom andlearning, among the other tribes, and there was not one of these whichdid not yield its assent to their superior privilege of lighting thecouncil-fire. 

But in the midst of the high tide of their prosperity, suddenly therearose a great alarm at the invasion of a ferocious band of warriors fromthe North of the Great Lakes; and as these bands advanced, anindiscriminate slaughter was made of men, women, and children. Destruction fell upon all alike. 

The public alarm was great; and Hiawatha advised them not to waste theirefforts in a desultory manner, but to call a council of all the tribesthat could be gathered together, from the East to the West; and, at thesame time, he appointed a meeting to take place on an eminence on thebanks of the Onondaga Lake. There, accordingly, the chief men assembled, while the occasion brought together a vast multitude of men, women, andchildren, who were in expectation of some marvellous deliverance. 

Three days elapsed, and Hiawatha did not appear. The multitude began tofear that he was not coming, and messengers were despatched for him toTioto, who found him depressed with a presentiment that evil wouldfollow his attendance. These fears were overruled by the eagerpersuasions of the messengers; and Hiawatha, taking his daughter withhim, put his wonderful canoe in its element and set out for the council. The grand assemblage that was to avert the threatened danger appearedquickly in sight, as he moved rapidly along in his magic canoe; and whenthe people saw him, they sent up loud shouts of welcome until thevenerated man landed. A steep ascent led up the banks of the lake to theplace occupied by the council; and, as he walked up, a loud whirringsound was heard above, as if caused by some rushing current of air. Instantly, the eyes of all were directed upward to the sky, where wasseen a dark spot, something like a small cloud, descending rapidly, andas it approached, enlarging in its size and increasing in velocity. Terror and alarm filled the minds of the multitude and they scattered inconfusion. But as soon as he had gained the eminence, Hiawatha stoodstill, causing his daughter to do the same--deeming it cowardly to fly, and impossible, if it was attempted, to divert the designs of the GreatSpirit. The descending object now assumed a more definite aspect; and, as it came nearer, revealed the shape of a gigantic white bird, withwide-extended and pointed wings. This bird came down with everincreasing velocity, until, with a mighty swoop, it dropped upon thegirl, crushing her at once to the earth. 

The fixed face of Hiawatha alone indicated his consciousness of hisdaughter's death; while in silence he signalled to the warriors, who hadstood watching the event in speechless consternation. One after theother stepped up to the prostrate bird, which was killed by its violentfall, and selecting a feather from its snow-white plumage, decoratedhimself therewith. [Footnote: Since this event, say the Indians of thistribe, the plumage of the white heron has been used for theirdecorations on the war-path. ]

But now a new affliction fell upon Hiawatha; for, on removing thecarcass of the bird, not a trace could be discovered of his daughter. Her body had vanished from the earth. Shades of anguish contracted thedark face of Hiawatha. He stood apart in voiceless grief. No word wasspoken. His people waited in silence, until at length arousing himself, he turned to them and walked in calm dignity to the head of the council. 

The first day he listened with attentive gravity to the plans of thedifferent speakers; on the next day he arose and said: "My friends andbrothers; you are members of many tribes, and have come from a greatdistance. We have come to promote the common interest, and our mutualsafety. How shall it be accomplished? To oppose these Northern hordes intribes singly, while we are at variance often with each other, isimpossible. By uniting in a common band of brotherhood we may hope tosucceed. Let this be done, and we shall drive the enemy from our land. Listen to me by tribes. You, the Mohawks, who are sitting under theshadow of the great tree, whose branches spread wide around, and whoseroots sink deep into the earth, shall be the first nation, because youare warlike and mighty. You, the Oneidas, who recline your bodiesagainst the everlasting stone that cannot be moved, shall be the secondnation, because you always give wise counsel. You, the Onondagas, whohave your habitation at the foot of the great hills, and areovershadowed by their crags, shall be the third nation, because you aregreatly gifted in speech. You, the Senecas, whose dwelling is in thedark forest, and whose home is all over the land, shall be the fourthnation, because of your superior cunning in hunting. And you, theCayugas, the people who live in the open country and possess muchwisdom, shall be the fifth nation, because you understand better the artof raising corn and beans, and making lodges. Unite, ye five nations, and have one common interest, and no foe shall disturb and subdue you. You, the people who are the feeble bushes, and you who are a fishingpeople, may place yourselves under our protection, and we will defendyou. And you of the South and West may do the same, and we will protectyou. We earnestly desire the alliance and friendship of you all. Brothers, if we unite in this great bond, the Great Spirit will smileupon us, and we shall be free, prosperous, and happy; but if we remainas we are, we shall be subject to his frown. We shall be enslaved, ruined, perhaps annihilated. We may perish under the war-storm, and ournames be no longer remembered by good men, nor be repeated in the danceand song. Brothers, those are the words of Hiawatha. I have spoken. I amdone. " [Footnote: Canassatego, a renowned chief of the Confederacy, inhis remarkable piece of advice to the Colonial Commissioners ofLancaster in July, 1744, seems to imply that there was an error in thisplan of Hiawatha, as it did not admit all nations into their Confederacywith equal rights. ]

The next day his plan of union was considered and adopted by thecouncil, after which Hiawatha again addressed the people with wise wordsof counsel, and at the close of this speech bade them farewell; for heconceived that his mission to the Iroquois was accomplished, and hemight announce his withdrawal to the skies. He then went down to theshore, and assumed his seat in his mystical canoe. Sweet music was heardin the air as he seated himself; and while the wondering multitude stoodgazing at their beloved chief, he was silently wafted from sight, andthey saw him no more. He passed to the Isle of the Blessed, inhabited byOwayneo [Footnote: A name for their Great Spirit in the dialect of theIroquois. ] and his manitos. 

 And they said, "Farewell forever!" Said, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" And the forests, dark and lonely, Moved through all their depths of darkness^ Sighed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" And the waves upon the margin, Rising, rippling on the pebbles, Sobbed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" And the heron, the shuh-shu-gah, From her haunts among the fen-lands, Screamed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" Thus departed Hiawatha, Hiawatha the Beloved, In the glory of the sunset, In the purple mists of evening, To the regions of the home-wind, Of the northwest wind, Keewaydin, To the Islands of the Blessed, To the kingdom of Ponemah, To the land of the Hereafter. 

[Footnote: "The Song of Hiawatha, " by H. W. Longfellow. ]

CHAPTER II

BEOWULF

Old King Hrothgar built for himself a great palace, covered with gold, with benches all round outside, and a terrace leading up to it. It wasbigger than any hall men had ever heard of, and there Hrothgar sat onhis throne to share with men the good things God had given him. A bandof brave knights gathered round him, all living together in peace andjoy. 

But there came a wicked monster, Grendel, out of the moors. He stoleacross the fens in the thick darkness, and touched the great iron barsof the door of the hall, which immediately sprang open. Then, with hiseyes shooting out flame, he spied the knights sleeping after battle. With his steel finger nails the hideous fiend seized thirty of them intheir sleep. He gave yells of joy, and sped as quick as lightning acrossthe moors, to reach his home with his prey. 

When the knights awoke, they raised a great cry of sorrow, whilst theaged King himself sat speechless with grief. None could do battle withthe monster, he was too strong, too horrible for any one to conquer. Fortwelve long years Grendel warred against Hrothgar; like a dark shadow ofdeath he prowled round about the hall, and lay in wait for his men onthe misty moors. One thing he could not touch, and that was the King'ssacred throne. 

Now there lived in a far-off land a youngster called Beowulf, who hadthe strength of thirty men. He heard of the wicked deeds of Grendel, andthe sorrow of the good King Hrothgar. So he had made ready a strongship, and with fourteen friends set sail to visit Hrothgar, as he was inneed of help. The good ship flew over the swelling ocean like a bird, till in due time the voyagers saw shining white cliffs before them. Thenthey knew their journey was at an end; they made fast their ship, grasped their weapons, and thanked God that they had had an easy voyage. 

Now the coastguard spied them from a tower. He set off to the shore, riding on horseback, and brandishing a huge lance. 

"Who are you, " he cried, "bearing arms and openly landing here? I ambound to know from whence you come before you make a step forward. Listen to my plain words, and hasten to answer me. " Beowulf made answerthat they came as friends, to rid Hrothgar of his wicked enemy Grendel, and at that the coastguard led them on to guide them to the King'spalace. Downhill they ran together, with a rushing sound of voices andarmed tread, until they saw the hall shining like gold against the sky. The guard bade them go straight to it, then, wheeling round on hishorse, he said, "It is time for me to go. May the Father of All keep youin safety. For myself, I must guard the coast. "

The street was paved with stone, and Beowulf's men marched along, following it to the hall, their armour shining in the sun and clangingas they went. They reached the terrace, where they set down their broadshields. Then they seated themselves on the bench, while they stackedtheir spears together and made themselves known to the herald. Hrothgarspeedily bade them welcome. They entered the great hall with measuredtread, Beowulf leading the way. His armour shone like a golden net-work, and his look was high and noble, as he said, "Hail, O King! To fightagainst Grendel single-handed have I come. Grant me this, that I mayhave this task alone, I and my little band of men. I know that theterrible monster despises weapons, and therefore I shall bear neithersword, nor shield, nor buckler. Hand to hand I will fight the foe, anddeath shall come to whomsoever God wills. If death overtakes me, thenwill the monster carry away my body to the swamps, so care not for mybody, but send my armour to my King. My fate is in God's hands. "

Hrothgar loved the youth for his noble words, and bade him and his mensit down to the table and merrily share the feast, if they had a mind todo so. As they feasted, a minstrel sang with a clear voice. The Queen, in cloth of gold, moved down the hall and handed the jewelled cup ofmead to the King and all the warriors, old and young. At the rightmoment, with gracious words, she brought it to Beowulf. Full of prideand high purpose, the youth drank from the splendid cup, and vowed thathe would conquer the enemy or die. 

When the sun sank in the west, all the guests arose. The King badeBeowulf guard the house, and watch for the foe. "Have courage, " he said, "be watchful, resolve on success. Not a wish of yours shall be leftunfulfilled, if you perform this mighty deed. "

Then Beowulf lay down to rest in the hall, putting off from him his coatof mail, helmet, and sword. 

Through the dim night Grendel came stealing. All slept in the darkness, all but one! The door sprang open at the first touch that the monstergave it. He trod quickly over the paved floor of the hall; his eyesgleamed as he saw a troop of kinsmen lying together asleep. He laughedas he reckoned on sucking the life of each one before day broke. Heseized a sleeping warrior, and in a trice had crunched his bones. Thenhe stretched out his hand to seize Beowulf on his bed. Quickly didBeowulf grip his arm; he stood up full length and grappled with him withall his might, till his fingers cracked as though they would burst. Never had Grendel felt such a grip; he had a mind to go, but could not. He roared, and the hall resounded with his yells, as up and down heraged, with Beowulf holding him in a fast embrace. The benches wereoverturned, the timbers of the hall cracked, the beautiful hall was allbut wrecked. Beowulf's men had seized their weapons and thought to hackGrendel on every side, but no blade could touch him. Still Beowulf heldhim by the arm; his shoulder cracked, and he fled, wounded to death, leaving hand, arm, and shoulder in Beowulf's grasp. Over the moors, intothe darkness, he sped as best he might, and to Beowulf was the victory. 

Then, in the morning, many a warrior came from far and near. Riding introops, they tracked the monster's path, where he had fled stricken todeath. In a dismal pool he had yielded up his life. 

Racing their horses over the green turf, they reached again the pavedstreet. The golden roof of the palace glittered in the sunlight. TheKing stood on the terrace and gave thanks to God. "I have had much woe, "he said, "but this lad, through God's might, has done the deed that we, with all our wisdom, could not do. Now I will heartily love you, Beowulf, as if you were my son. You shall want for nothing in thisworld, and your fame shall live forever. "

The palace was cleansed, the walls hung anew with cloth of gold, thewhole place was made fair and straight, for only the roof had been leftaltogether unhurt after the fight. 

A merry feast was held. The King brought forth out of his treasures abanner, helmet, and mail coat. These he gave to Beowolf; but morewonderful than all was a famous sword handed down to him through theages. Then eight horses with golden cheekplates were brought within thecourt; one of them was saddled with King Hrothgar's own saddle, decorated with silver. Hrothgar gave all to Beowulf, bidding him enjoythem well. To each of Beowulf's men he gave rich gifts. The minstrelssang; the Queen, beautiful and gracious, bore the cup to the King andBeowulf. To Beowulf she, too, gave gifts: mantle and bracelets andcollar of gold. "Use these gifts, " she said, "and prosper well! As faras the sea rolls your name shall be known. "

Great was the joy of all till evening came. Then the hall was cleared ofbenches and strewn with beds. Beowulf, like the King, had his own bowerthis night to sleep in. The nobles lay down in the hall, at their headsthey set their shields and placed ready their helmets and their mailcoats. Each slept, ready in an instant to do battle for his lord. 

So they sank to rest, little dreaming what deep sorrow was to fall onthem. 

Hrothgar's men sank to rest, but death was to be the portion of one. Grendel the monster was dead, but Grendel's mother still lived. Furiousat the death of her son, she crept to the great hall, and made her wayin, clutched an earl, the King's dearest friend, and crushed him in hissleep. Great was the uproar, though the terror was less than whenGrendel came. The knights leapt up, sword in hand; the witch hurried toescape, she wanted to get out with her life. 

The aged King felt bitter grief when he heard that his dearest friendwas slain. He sent for Beowulf, who, like the King, had had his ownsleeping bower that night. The youth stood before Hrothgar and hopedthat all was well. 

"Do not ask if things go well, " said the sorrowing King, "we have freshgrief this morning. My dearest friend and noblest knight is slain. Grendel you yourself destroyed through the strength given you by God, but another monster has come to avenge his death. I have heard thecountry folk say that there were two huge fiends to be seen stalkingover the moors, one like a woman, as near as they could make out, theother had the form of a man, but was huger far. It was he they calledGrendel. These two haunt a fearful spot, a land of untrodden bogs andwindy cliffs. A waterfall plunges into the blackness below, and twistedtrees with gnarled roots overhang it. An unearthly fire is seen gleamingthere night after night. None can tell the depth of the stream. Even astag, hunted to death, will face his foes on the bank rather than plungeinto those waters. It is a fearful spot. You are our only help, dare youenter this horrible haunt?"

Quick was Beowulf's answer: "Sorrow not, O King! Rouse yourself quickly, and let us track the monster. Each of us must look for death, and he whohas the chance should do mighty deeds before it comes. I promise youGrendel's kin shall not escape me, if she hide in the depths of theearth or of the ocean. "

The King sprang up gladly, and Beowulf and his friends set out. Theypassed stony banks and narrow gullies, the haunts of goblins. 

Suddenly they saw a clump of gloomy trees, overhanging a dreary pool. Ashudder ran through them, for the pool was blood-red. 

All sat down by the edge of the pool, while the horn sounded a cheerfulblast. In the water were monstrous sea-snakes, and on jutting points ofland were dragons and strange beasts: they tumbled away, full of rage, at the sound of the horn. 

One of Beowulf's men took aim at a monster with his arrow, and piercedhim through, so that he swam no more. 

Beowulf was making ready for the fight. He covered his body with armourlest the fiend should clutch him. On his head was a white helmet, decorated with figures of boars worked in silver. No weapon could hurtit. His sword was a wonderful treasure, with an edge of iron; it hadnever failed any one who had needed it in battle. 

"Be like a father to my men, if I perish, " said Beowulf to Hrothgar, "and send the rich gifts you have given me to my King. He will see thatI had good fortune while life lasted. Either I will win fame, or deathshall take me. "

He dashed away, plunging headlong into the pool. It took nearly thewhole day before he reached the bottom, and while he was still on hisway the water-witch met him. For a hundred years she had lived in thosedepths. She made a grab at him, and caught him in her talons, but hiscoat of mail saved him from her loathsome fingers. Still she clutchedhim tight, and bore him in her arms to the bottom of the lake; he had nopower to use his weapons, though he had courage enough. Water-beastsswam after him and battered him with their tusks. 

Then he saw that he was in a vast hall, where there was no water, but astrange, unearthly glow of firelight. At once the fight began, but thesword would not bite--it failed its master in his need; for the firsttime its fame broke down. Away Beowulf threw it in anger, trusting tothe strength of his hands. He cared nothing for his own life, for hethought but of honour. 

He seized the witch by the shoulder and swayed her so that she sank onthe pavement. Quickly she recovered, and closed in on him; he staggeredand fell, worn out. She sat on him, and drew her knife to take his life, but his good mail coat turned the point. He stood up again, and thentruly God helped him, for he saw among the armour on the wall an oldsword of huge size, the handiwork of giants. He seized it, and smotewith all his might, so that the witch gave up her life. 

His heart was full of gladness, and light, calm and beautiful as that ofthe sun, filled the hall. He scanned the vast chamber, and saw Grendellying there dead. He cut off his head as a trophy for King Hrothgar, whose men the fiend had killed and devoured. 

Now those men who were seated on the banks of the pool watching withHrothgar saw that the water was tinged with blood. Then the old menspoke together of the brave Beowulf, saying they feared they would neversee him again. The day was waning fast, so they and the King wenthomeward. Beowulf's men stayed on, sick at heart, gazing at the pool. They longed, but did not expect, to see their lord and master. 

Under the depths, Beowulf was making his way to them. The magic swordmelted in his hand, like snow in sunshine; only the hilt remained, sovenomous was the fiend that had been slain therewith. He brought nothingmore with him than the hilt and Grendel's head. Up he rose through thewaters where the furious sea-beasts before had chased him. Now not onewas to be seen; the depths were purified when the witch lost her life. So he came to land, bravely swimming, bearing his spoils. His men sawhim, they thanked God, and ran to free him of his armour. They rejoicedto get sight of him, sound and whole. 

Now they marched gladly through the highways to the town. It took fourof them to carry Grendel's head. On they went, all fourteen, theircaptain glorious in their midst. They entered the great hall, startlingthe King and Queen, as they sat at meat, with the fearful sight ofGrendel's head. 

Beowulf handed the magic hilt to Hrothgar, who saw that it was the workof giants of old. He spake to Beowulf, while all held their peace, praised him for his courage, said that he would love him as his son, and bade him be a help to mankind, remembering not to glory in his ownstrength, for he held it from God, and death without more ado mightsubdue it altogether. "Many, many treasures, " he said, "must pass fromme to you to-morrow, but now rest and feast. "

Gladly Beowulf sat down to the banquet, and well he liked the thought ofthe rest. 

When day dawned, he bade the King farewell with noble words, promisingto help him in time of need. Hrothgar with tears and embraces let himgo, giving him fresh gifts of hoarded jewels. He wept, for he lovedBeowulf well, and knew he would never see him any more. 

The coastguard saw the gallant warriors coming, bade them welcome, andled them to their ship. The wind whistled in the sails, and a pleasanthumming sound was heard as the good ship sped on her way. So Beowulfreturned home, having done mighty deeds and gained great honour. 

In due time Beowulf himself became King, and well he governed the landfor fifty years. Then trouble came. 

A slave, fleeing from his master, stumbled by an evil chance into theden of a dragon. There he saw a dazzling hoard of gold, guarded by thedragon for three hundred winters. The treasure tempted him, and hecarried off a tankard of gold to give to his master, to make peace withhim. 

The dragon had been sleeping, now he awoke, and sniffed the scent of anenemy along the rock. He hunted diligently over the ground; he wanted tofind the man who had done the mischief in his sleep. In his rage heswung around the treasure mound, dashing into it now and again to seekthe jewelled tankard. He found it hard to wait until evening came, whenhe meant to avenge with fire the loss of his treasure. 

Presently the sun sank, and the dragon had his will. He set forth, burning all the cheerful homes of men: his rage was felt far and wide. Before dawn he shot back again to his dark home, trusting in his moundand in his craft to defend himself. 

Now Beowulf heard that his own home had been burnt to the ground. It wasa great grief to him, almost making him break out in a rage againstProvidence. His breast heaved with anger. 

He meant to rid his country of the plague, and to fight the dragonsingle handed. He would have thought it shame to seek him with a largeband, he who, as a lad, had killed Grendel and his kin. As he armed forthe fray, many thoughts filled his mind; he remembered the days of hisyouth and manhood. "I fought many wars in my youth, " he said, "and nowthat I am aged, and the keeper of my people, I will yet again seek theenemy and do famously. "

He bade his men await him on the mountain-side. They were to see whichof the two would come alive out of the tussle. 

There the aged King beheld where a rocky archway stood, with a stream offire gushing from it; no one could stand there and not be scorched. Hegave a great shout, and the dragon answered with a hot breath of flame. Beowulf, with drawn sword, stood well up to his shield, when the burningdragon, curved like an arch, came headlong upon him. The shield savedhim but little; he swung up the sword to smite the horrible monster, butits edge did not bite. Sparks flew around him on every side; he saw thatthe end of his days had come. 

His men crept away to the woods to save their lives. One, and one only, Wiglaf by name, sped through the smoke and flame to help his lord. 

"My Lord Beowulf!" he cried, "with all your might defend life, I willsupport you to the utmost. "

The dragon came on in fury; in a trice the flames consumed Wiglaf'sshield, but, nothing daunted, he stepped under the shelter of Beowulf's, as his own fell in ashes about him. The King remembered his strength ofold, and he smote with his sword with such force that it stuck in themonster's head, while splinters flew all around. His hand was so strongthat, as men used to say, he broke any sword in using it, and was nonethe worse for it. 

Now, for the third time, the dragon rushed upon him, and seized him bythe neck with his poisonous fangs. Wiglaf, with no thought for himself, rushed forward, though he was scorched with the flames, and smote thedragon lower down than Beowulf had done. With such effect the swordentered the dragon's body that from that moment the fire began to cease. 

The King, recovering his senses, drew his knife and ended the monster'slife. So these two together destroyed the enemy of the people. ToBeowulf that was the greatest moment of his life, when he saw his workcompleted. 

The wound that the dragon had given him began to burn and swell, for thepoison had entered it. He knew that the tale of his days was told. As herested on a stone by the mound, he pondered thoughtfully, looking on thecunning work of the dwarfs of old, the stone arches on their rockypillars. Wiglaf, with tender care, unloosed his helmet and brought himwater, Beowulf discoursing the while: "Now I would gladly have given myarmour to my son, had God granted me one. I have ruled this people fiftyyears, and no King has dared attack them. I have held my own withjustice, and no friend has lost his life through me. Though I am sickwith deadly wounds, I have comfort in this. Now go quickly, belovedWiglaf, show me the ancient wealth that I have won for my people, thegold and brilliant gems, that I may then contentedly give up my life. "

Quickly did Wiglaf enter the mound at the bidding of his master. Onevery side he saw gold and jewels and choice vases, helmets andbracelets, and over head, a marvellous banner, all golden, gleaming withlight, so that he could scan the surface of the floor and see thecurious treasured hoards. He filled his lap full of golden cups andplatters, and also took the brilliant banner. 

He hastened to return with his spoils, wondering, with pain, if heshould find his King still alive. He bore his treasures to him, laidthem on the ground, and again sprinkled him with water. "I thank God, "said the dying King, "that I have been permitted to win this treasurefor my people; now they will have all that they need. But I cannot beany longer here. Bid my men make a lofty mound on the headlandoverlooking the sea, and there place my ashes. In time to come men shallcall it Beowulf's Barrow, it shall tower aloft to guide sailors over thestormy seas. "

The brave King took from his neck his golden collar, took his helmet andhis coronet, and gave them to his true knight, Wiglaf. "Fate has sweptall my kinsmen away, " said he, "and now I must follow them. "

That was his last word, as his soul departed from his bosom, to join thecompany of the just. 

Of all Kings in the world, he was, said his men, the gentlest to hisknights and the most desirous of honour. 

CHAPTER III

CHILDE HORN

There dwelt once in Southland a King named Altof, who was rich, powerful, and gentle. His Queen was named Gotthild, and they had a youngson called Horn. The rain never rained, the sun never shone upon afairer boy; his skin was like roses and lilies, and as clear as glass;and he was as brave as he was handsome. At fifteen years old his likewas not to be seen in all the kingdoms around. He had a band ofplay-fellows, twelve boys of noble birth, but not one of them couldthrow the ball so high as Horn. Out of the twelve, two were his specialcompanions, and one of them, Athulf, was the best of the company, whilethe other, Figold, was altogether the worst. 

It came to pass one summer morning that good King Altof was riding onthe sea-shore with only two attendants, and he looked out to sea and sawfifteen ships lying in the offing. It was the heathen Vikings who hadcome from Northland, bent on plundering Christian lands. When these sawthe three Norsemen, they swarmed on to shore like a pack of wolves, allarmed and full of battle fury. They slew the King and his knights, andmade themselves masters of the whole land. 

Queen Gotthild wept much for her lord, and more for her son, ChildeHorn, who could not now ascend his father's throne. She clad herself inmourning garments, the meanest she could find, and went to dwell in acave, where she prayed night and day for her son, that he might bepreserved from the malice of his enemies, at whose mercy he and hiscomrades lay. At first they thought to have slain him, but one of theirleaders was touched by his glorious beauty, and so he said to the boy, "Horn, you are a fair stripling and a bold, and when you come to years, you and your band here, you are like to prove too many for us, so I amgoing to put you all in a boat and let it drift out to sea--where maythe gods preserve you, or else send you to the bottom; but, for all oursakes, you cannot remain here. "

Then they led the boys down to the shore, placed them in a little skiff, and pushed it off from the land. All but Horn wrung their hands in fear. The waves rose high, and, as the boat was tossed up and down, the ladsgave themselves up for lost, not knowing whither they were driven; butwhen the morning of the second day broke, Horn sprang up from where hesat in the forepart of the skiff, crying, "I hear the birds sing, and Isee the grass growing green--we are at the land!" Then they sprang rightgladly on shore, and Horn called after the boat as it floated away, "Agood voyage to thee, little boat! May wind and wave speed thee back toSouthland. Greet all who knew me, and chiefly the good Queen Gotthild, my mother. And tell the heathen King that some day he shall meet hisdeath at my hand. "

Then the boys went on till they came to a city, where reigned KingAylmer of Westland--whom God reward for his kindness to them. He askedthem in mild words whence they came, "for in good sooth, " said he, "never have I seen so well-favoured a company"; and Horn answeredproudly, "We are of good Christian blood, and we come from Southland, which has just been raided by pagans, who slew many of our people, andsent us adrift in a boat, to be the sport of the winds and waves. For aday and a night we have been at sea without a rudder; and now we havebeen cast upon your coast, you may enslave or slay us, if but, it pleasethee, show us mercy. "

Then the good King asked, "What is your name, my child?" and the boyanswered. "Horn, at your pleasure, my Lord King; and if you need aservant, I will serve you well and truly. "

"Childe Horn, " said the King, "you bear a mighty name for one so youngand tender. 

 "Over hills and valleys oft the horn has rung, In the royal palace long the horn has hung. So shall thy name, O Hornchild, through every land resound, And the fame of thy wondrous beauty in all the West be found. "

So Horn found great favour with the King, and he put him in charge ofAthelbrus, the house-steward, that he might teach him all knightlyduties, and he spared no pains with him, nor yet with his companions;but well trained as they all were, Horn was far ahead of them both instature and noble bearing. Even a stranger looking at him could guesshis lofty birth, and the splendour of his marvellous beauty lit up allthe palace; while he won all hearts, from the meanest grooms to thegreatest of the court ladies. 

Now the fairest thing in that lordly court was the King's only daughter, Riminild. Her mother was dead, and she was well-beloved of her father, as only children are. Not a word had she ever ventured to speak to Hornwhen she saw him among the other knights at the great feasts, but dayand night she bore his image in her heart. One night she dreamed that heentered her apartments (and she wondered much at his boldness), and inthe morning she sent for Athelbrus, the house-steward, and bade himconduct Horn into her presence. But he went to Athulf, who was the pureminded and true one of Horn's two chosen companions, while Figold, theother, was a wolf in sheep's clothing, and said to him, "You shall gowith me in Horn's stead to the Princess. "

So he went, and she, not recognising him in the ill-lighted room, stretched out her hand to him, crying, "Oh, Horn, I have loved you long. Now plight me your troth. "

But Athulf whispered to her, "Hold! I am not Horn. I am but his friend, Athulf, as unlike him as may well be. Horn's little finger is fairerthan my whole body; and were he dead, or a thousand miles off, I wouldnot play him false. "

Then Riminild rose up in anger and glared upon the old steward, crying, "Athelbrus, you wicked man, out of my sight, or I shall hate you forevermore! All shame and ill befall you if you bring me not Childe Hornhimself!"

"Lady and Princess, " answered Athelbrus warily, "listen, and I will tellyou why I brought Athulf. The King entrusted Horn to my care, and Idread his anger. Now be not angry with me, and I will fetch himforthwith. "

Then he went away, but, instead of Horn, this time he called Figold, thedeceiver, and said to him, "Come with me, instead of Horn, to the royalPrincess. Do not betray yourself, lest we both suffer for it. "

Willingly went the faithless one with him, but to Figold the maid heldnot out her hand--well she knew that he was false, and she drove himfrom her presence in rage and fury. Athelbrus feared her anger, and saidto himself, "To make my peace with her I must now send her the trueHorn. " He found him in the hall presenting the wine cup to the King, andwhispered to him, "Horn, you are wanted in the Princess's apartments";and when Horn heard this his hand holding the full goblet so trembledthat the wine ran over the edge. He went straight into the presence ofthe royal maiden, and as he knelt before her his beauty seemed to lightup the room. 

"Fair befall thee and thy maidens, O Lady!" said he. "The house-stewardhas sent me hither to ask thy will. "

Then Riminild stood up, her cheeks red as the dawn, and told him of herlove; and Horn took counsel with himself how he should answer her. 

"May God in heaven bless him whom thou weddest, whoever he may be, " hesaid. "I am but a foundling, and the King's servant to boot--it would beagainst all rule and custom were he to wed me with thee. "

When Riminild heard this her heart died within her, and she fellfainting on the floor; but Horn lifted her up, and advised her torequest her father that he might now receive knighthood. "An then, " saidhe, "I will win you by my brave deeds. "

When she heard that, she recovered herself and said, "Take my ring hereto Master Athelbrus, and bid him from me ask the King to make you aknight. "

So Horn went and told all to Athelbrus, who sought the King forthwith, and said, "To-morrow is a festival; I counsel thee to admit Horn toknighthood. " And the King was pleased, and said, "Good! Horn is wellworthy of it. I will create him a knight to-morrow, and he himself shallconfer it on his twelve companions. "

The next day the newly knighted one went to Riminild's bower, and toldher that now he was her own true knight, and must go forth to do bravedeeds in her name, and she said she would trust him evermore, and shegave him a gold ring with her name graven on it, which would preservehim from all evil. "Let this remind thee of me early and late, " shesaid, "and thou canst never fall by treachery. " And then they kissedeach other, and she closed the door behind him, with tears. 

The other knights were feasting and shouting in the King's hall, butHorn went to the stable, armed from head to foot. He stroked hiscoal-black steed, then sprang upon his back and rode off, his armourringing as he went. Down to the seashore he galloped, singing joyouslyand praying God soon to send him the chance to do some deed of knightlydaring, and there he met a band of pagen marauders, who had just landedfrom their pirate-ship. Horn asked them civilly what they wanted there, and one of the pagans answered insolently, "To conquer the land and slayall that dwell in it, as we did to King Altof, whose son now serves aforeign lord. "

Horn, on hearing this, drew his sword and struck off the fellow's head;then he thought of his dead father and of his mother in her lonely cave;he looked on his ring and thought of Riminild, and dashed among thepirates, laying about him right and left, till, I warrant you, therewere few of them left to tell the tale. "This, " he cried, "is but theforetaste of what will be when I return to my own land and avenge myfather's death!"

Then he rode back to the palace and told the King how he had slain theinvaders, and "Here, " he said, "is the head of the leader, to requitethee, O King, for granting me knighthood. "

The next day the King went a-hunting in the forest, and the false Figoldrode at his side, but Horn stayed at home. And Figold spoke to the Kingout of his wicked heart and said, "I warn thee, King Aylmer, Horn isplotting to dishonour thee--to rob thee of thy daughter and of thykingdom to boot. He is even now plotting with her in her bower. "

Then the King galloped home in a rage, and burst into Riminild's bower, and there, sure enough, he found Horn, as Figold had said. "Out of myland, base foundling!" he cried. "What have you to do with the youngQueen here?"

And Horn departed without a word. He went to the stable, saddled hishorse, then he girded on his sword and returned to the palace; hecrossed the hall and entered Riminild's apartments for the last time. "Lady, " he said, "I must go forth to strange lands for seven years; atthe end of that time I will either return or send a messenger; but if Ido neither, you may give yourself to another, nor wait longer for me. Now kiss me a long farewell. "

Riminild promised to be true to him, and she took a gold ring from herfinger, saying, "Wear this above the other which I gave you, or if yougrow weary of them, fling them both away, and watch to see if its twostones change colour; for if I die, the one will turn pale, and if I amfalse, the other will turn red. "

"Riminild, " said Childe Horn, "I am yours for evermore! There is a poolof clear water under a tree in the garden--go there daily and look formy shadow in the water. If you see it not, know that I am unaltered; andif you see it, know that I no longer love thee. "

Then they embraced and kissed each other, and Horn parted from her, androde down to the coast, and took passage on a ship bound for Ireland. When he landed there, two of its King's sons met him, and took him totheir father, good King Thurstan, before whom Horn bowed low, and theKing bade him welcome, and praised his beauty, and asked his name. 

"My name is Good Courage, " said Horn boldly, and the King was wellpleased. 

Now, at Christmas, King Thurstan made a great feast, and in the midst ofit one rushed in crying, "Guests, O King! We are besieged by fiveheathen chiefs, and one of them proclaims himself ready to fight anythree of our knights single handed to-morrow at sunrise. "

"That would be but a sorry Christmas service, " said King Thurstan; "whocan advise me how best to answer them?" Then Horn spoke up from his seatat the table, "If these pagans are ready to fight, one against three, what may not a Christian dare? I will adventure myself against them all, and one after another they shall go down before my good sword. "

Heavy of heart was King Thurstan that night, and little did he sleep. But "Sir Good Courage" rose early and buckled on his armour. Then hewent to the King and said, "Now, Sir King, come with me to the field, and I will show you in what coin to pay the demands of these heathen. "So they rode on together in the twilight, till they came to the greenmeadow, where a giant was waiting for them. Horn greeted him with a blowthat brought him to the ground at once, and ran another giant throughthe heart with his sword; and when their followers saw that theirleaders were slain, they turned and fled back to the shore, but Horntried to cut them off from their ships, and in the scrimmage the King'stwo sons fell. At this Horn was sore grieved, and he fell upon thepagans in fury, and slew them right and left, to avenge the King andhimself. 

Bitterly wept King Thurstan when his sons were brought home to him ontheir biers; there was great mourning for the young princes, who wereburied with high honours in the vault under the church. Afterwards theKing called his knights together and said to Horn, "Good Courage, butfor you we were all dead men. I will make you my heir; you shall wed mydaughter Swanhild, who is bright and beautiful as the sunshine, andshall reign here after me. "

So Horn lived there for six years, always under the name of GoodCourage, but he sent no messenger to Riminild, not wishing any man toknow his secret, and consequently Riminild was in great sorrow on hisaccount, not knowing whether he was true to her or not. Moreover, theKing of a neighbouring country sought her hand in marriage, and herfather now fixed a day for the wedding. 

One morning, as Horn was riding to the forest, he saw a strangerstanding in the wayside, who, on being questioned said, "I come fromWestland, and I seek the Knight Sir Horn. Riminild the maiden is in soreheaviness of spirit, bewailing herself day and night, for on Sunday nextshe is to be married to a King. "

Then was Horn's grief as great as that of Riminild. His eyes overflowedwith tears. He looked at his ring with its colored stones; the one hadnot turned red, but it seemed to him that the other was turning pale. "Well knew my heart that you would keep your troth with me, Riminild, "said he to himself, "and that never would that stone grow red; but thispaling one bodes ill. And you doubtless have often looked in the gardenpool for my shadow, and have seen naught there but your own lovelyimage. _That_ shadow shall never come, O sweet love, Riminild, toprove to you that your love is false, but he himself shall come anddrive all shadows away. 

"And you, my trusty messenger, " he said aloud, "go back to maid Riminildand tell her that she shall indeed wed a King next Sunday, for beforethe church bells ring for service I will be with her. "

The Princess Riminild stood on the beach and looked out to sea, hopingto see Horn coming in his helmet and shield to deliver her; but nonecame, save her own messenger, who was washed up on the shore--drowned!And she wrung her hands in her anguish. 

Horn had gone immediately to King Thurstan, and, after saluting him, told him his real name and his present trouble. "And now, O King, " saidhe, "I pray you to reward me for all my services by helping me to getpossession of Riminild. Your daughter, Swanhild, will I give to a manthe best and faithfullest ever called to the ranks of knighthood. "

Then said the King, "Horn, follow your own counsel"; then he sent forhis knights, and many of them followed Horn, so that he had a thousandor more at his command. The wind favoured their course, and in a fewhours the ships cast anchor on the shore of Westland. Horn left hisforces in a wood while he went on to learn what was doing. Well did heknow the way, and lightly did he leap over the stones. As he went he meta pilgrim, and asked him the latest news, who answered, "I come from awedding feast--but the bride's true love is far away, and she onlyweeps. I could not stay to see her grief. "

"May God help me!" said Horn: "but this is sorrowful news. Let us changegarments, good pilgrim. I must go to the feast, and once there I vow. Iwill give them something by which to remember Horn!" He blackened hiseyebrows, and took the pilgrim's hat and staff, and when he reached thegate of the palace, the porter was for turning him back, but Horn tookhim up and flung him over the bridge, and then went on to the hall wherethe feast was being held. He sat down among the lowest, on the beggar'sbench, and glowered round from under his blackened eyebrows. At adistance he saw Riminild sitting like one in a dream; then she rose topour out mead and wine for the knights and squires, and Horn cried out, "Fair Queen, if ye would have God's blessing, let the beggar's turn comenext. "

She set down the flagon of wine, and poured him out brown beer in a jug, saying: "There, drink that off at a draught, thou boldest of beggarmen!" But he gave it to the beggars, his companions, saying "I am notcome to drink jugs of beer, but goblets of wine. Fair Queen, " he cried, "thou deemest me a beggar, but I am rather a fisherman, come to haul inmy net, which I left seven years ago hanging from a fair hand here inWestland. " Then was Riminild much troubled within herself, and shelooked hard at Horn. She reached him the goblet and said, "Drink winethen, fisherman, and tell me who thou art. "

He drank from the goblet, and then dropped into it the gold ring, andsaid, "Look, O Queen, at what thou findest in the goblet, and ask nomore who I am. " The Queen withdrew into her bower with her four maidens, and when she saw the gold ring that she had given to Horn, she was soredistressed, and cried out, "Childe Horn must be dead, for this is hisring. "

She then sent one of her waiting-maids to command the stranger to herpresence, and Horn, all unrecognised, appeared before her. "Tell me, honest pilgrim, where thou gottest this ring?" she asked him. 

"I took it, " said he, "from the finger of a man whom I found lying sickunto death in a wood. Loudly he was bewailing himself and the lady ofhis heart, one Riminild, who should at this time have wedded him. " As hespoke he drew his cap down over his eyes, which were full of tears. 

Then Riminild cried, "Break, heart, in my bosom! Horn is no more--he whohath already caused thee so many tender pangs. " She threw herself on hercouch and called for a knife, to kill the bridegroom and herself. 

Her maidens shrieked with fear, but Horn flung his arms around her andpressed her to his heart. Then he cast away hat and staff, and wiped thebrown stain from his face, and stood up before his love in his own faircountenance, asking, "Dear love, Riminild, know thou me not now? Awaywith your grief and kiss me--I am Horn!--Horn, your true lover and bornslave. "

She gazed into his eyes. At first she could not believe that it was he, but at last she could doubt no longer; she fell upon his neck, and inthe sweet greetings that followed were two sick hearts made whole. 

"Horn, you miscreant! how could you play me such a trick?"

"Have patience, sweet love, maid Riminild, and I will tell you all. Nowlet me go and finish my work, and when it is done I will come and restat your side. "

So he left her, and went back to the forest, and Riminild sent forAthulf, who met her with a doleful countenance. "Athulf!" she cried, "rejoice with me! Horn has come--I tell you Horn is here!"

"Alas!" said Athulf, "that cannot be. Who hath brought thee such an idletale? Day and night have I stood here watching for him, but he came not, and much I fear me the noble Horn is dead. "

"I tell you he is living, " she said--"aye, and more alive than ever. Goto the forest and find him--he is there with all his faithfulfollowers. "

Athulf made haste to the forest, still unbelieving, but soon his heartbounded for joy, for there rode Horn in his shining armour at the headof his troops. Athulf rode to his side, and they returned together tothe city, where Riminild was watching them from her turret. And Hornpointed to her and cried to his company, "Knights, yonder is mybride--help me to win her!"

Then was there a fierce storming of the gate--the shock of it shookRiminild's tower--and Horn and his heroes burst, all unheralded, intothe King's hall. Fierce and furious was the bridal dance that followed;the tumult of it rose up to Riminild, and she prayed, "God preserve mylover in this wild confusion!"

Right merrily danced her dancer, and all unscathed he flashed throughthe hall, thanks to his true love and God's care. King Aylmer and thebridegroom confronted him and the younger, the bridegroom King, askedhim what he sought there. "I seek my bride, " said he, "and if you do notgive her up to me I will have your life. "

"Better thou should have the bride than that, " said the other; "though Iwould sooner be torn in pieces than give thee either. " And he defendedhimself bravely, but it availed him naught. Horn struck off his headfrom his shoulders, so that it bounded across the hall. Then cried Hornto the other guests, "The dance is over!" after which he proclaimed atruce, and, throwing himself down on a couch, spake thus to King Aylmer:"I was born in Southland, of a royal race. The pagan Vikings slew KingAltof, my father, and put me out to sea with my twelve companions. Youdid train me for the order of knighthood, and I have dishonoured it byno unworthy deeds, though you did drive me from your kingdom, thinking Imeant to disgrace you through your daughter. But that which you creditedme with I never contemplated. Accept me then, O King, for yourson-in-law. Yet will I not claim my bride till I have won back mykingdom of Southland. That will I accomplish quickly, with the help ofmy brave knights and such others as I pray you to lend me, leaving inpledge therefor the fairest jewel in my crown, until King Horn shall beable to place Queen Riminild beside him on his father's throne. "

As he spoke Riminild entered, and Horn took her hand and led her to herfather, and the young couple stood before the old King--a right royalpair. Then King Aylmer spoke jestingly, "Truly I once did chide a youngknight in my wrath, but never King Horn, whom I now behold for the firsttime. Never would I have spoken roughly to King Horn, much lessforbidden him to woo a Princess. "

Then all the knights and lords came offering their good wishes to thehappy pair; and the old house-steward, Athelbrus, would have bent theknee to his former pupil, but Horn took the old man in his arms andembraced him, thanking him for all the pains he had taken with hisbreeding. 

Horn's twelve companions came also, and did him homage as theirsovereign, and he rejoiced to see them all, but especially Athulf thebrave and true. "Athulf, " he told him, "thou hast helped me to win mybride here, now come with me to Southland and help me to make a home forher. And you, too, shall win a lady--I have already chosen her; her nameis Swanhild, and she will look fair even beside Riminild. " Then didAthulf rejoice, but Figold, the traitor, was ready to sink into theground with shame and envy. 

Then Horn returned to his ship, taking Athulf with him, but Figold heleft behind. Truly it is ill knowing what to do with a traitor, whetheryou take him to the field or leave him at home. 

On went the ship before a favouring wind; the voyage lasted but fourdays. Horn landed at midnight, and he and Athulf went inland together. On the way they came upon a noble looking knight asleep under hisshield, upon which a cross was painted, and Horn cried to him, "Awake, and tell us what they are doing here. Thou seemest to be a Christian, Itrow, else would I have hewn thee in pieces with my sword!"

The good knight sprang up aghast, and said, "Against my will I amserving the heathen who rule here. I am keeping a place ready for Horn, the best loved of all heroes. Long I have wondered why he does notbestir himself to return and fight for his own. God give him power so todo till he slay every one of these miscreants. They put him out to sea, a tender boy, with his twelve playmates, one of whom was my only son, Athulf. Dearly he loved Horn, and was beloved by him. Could I but seethem both once more, I should feel that I could die in peace. "

"Then rejoice, " they told him, "for Horn and Athulf are here!"

Joyfully did the old man greet the youths; he embraced his son and bentthe knee to Horn, and all three rejoiced together. 

"Where is your company?" asked the old knight. "I suppose you two havecome to explore the land. Well, your mother still lives, and if she knewyou to be living would be beside herself with joy. "

"Blessed be the day that I and my men landed here, " said Horn. "We willcatch these heathen dogs, or else tame them. We will speak to them inour own language. "

Then Horn blew his horn, so that all on board the ship heard it and cameon shore. As the young birds long for the dawn, so Horn longed for thefight that should free his country from her enemies. From morning tonight the battle raged, till all the heathen, young and old, were slain, and young King Horn himself slew the pirate King. Then he went tochurch, with all his people, and an anthem was sung to the glory of God, and Horn gave thanks aloud for the restoration of his kingdom, afterwhich he sought the place where his mother dwelt. How his heart wept forjoy when he saw her! He placed a crown on her head, and arrayed her inrich robes, and brought her up to the palace. "Thou art glad to have thychild again, " he said to her in the joy of his heart, "but I will makethee gladder still by bringing thee home a daughter, one who will pleasethee well. " And he thought of his love, Riminild, with whom, however, things were just then going very much amiss. 

For as son as Horn had departed, the treacherous Figold had collected agreat army of workmen and made them build him a tower in the sea, whichcould only be reached when the tide was out. Now about this time Hornhad a dream, in which he saw Riminild on board a ship at sea, whichpresently went to pieces, and she tried to swim ashore, steering withher lily-white hand, while Figold, the traitor, sought to stop her withthe point of his sword. Then he awoke and cried, "Athulf, true friend, we must away across the sea. Unless we make all speed some evil willbefall us. " And in the midst of a storm they set sail. 

In the meantime Figold had left his tower and appeared in the presenceof King Aylmer. Cunningly, out of his false heart spoke the traitor, "King Aylmer, Horn has sent me word that he would have his bride handedover to my care. He has regained his crown and realm and would fain haveher there to be his Queen. "

"Very well, " said the King, "let her go with thee. "

But Riminild was much displeased at the thought of being put into thehands of Figold, whom in her soul she would not trust. 

"Why comes not Horn for me himself?" she asked. "I know not the way tohis kingdom either by land or by sea. "

"But I know it, " said Figold, "and I will soon bring thee thither, mostbeauteous queen. " But his wicked smile made her uneasy at heart. 

"If Horn could not come himself, " she said, "why did he not send Athulf, his faithful friend?" But this question pleased the traitor so littlethat he gave her no answer. 

Her father blessed her, and she set forth, wringing her white hands. 

Meanwhile, Horn, sailing from the south, was driven in shore by a storm, and he beheld Figold's high tower, and asked who had built such an uglything. He thought he heard a low murmuring as his ship flew past itbefore the wind, but knew not what it might be. Soon he saw thebattlements of King Aylmer's palace rising in the distance; thereRiminild should be, looking out for him, but all was bare and empty. Itseemed to him as though a star were missing from heaven; and as hecrossed the threshold the ill news was told him how Figold had carriedoff Riminild. Horn had no mind to linger with the King. "Come, Athulf, true friend, " said he, "and help me to search for her. " So they searchedfar and near, in vain, till at last Horn remembered that strange towerin the sea, and set sail for the lonely fortress where Figold had thefair princess in his evil keeping. "Now, my eleven companions, and you, too, Athulf, " said he, "abide here while I go up alone with my horn. Godhath shown me how to order this attempt. "

He left his sword on the ship, and took only a fishing line with a longhook. Then round and round the tower he walked, and he blew a loud blastout into the raging storm, until a head appeared out of a hole in thewall of the tower--it was that wicked knave Figold's; and Horn cast hisline, and hauled the writhing traitor clean out of the tower. He whirledround the sea wolf at the end of the line, and swung him over the waterby the sheer force of his arm, so that he was cast over to Athulf in theship; and sore afraid was the traitor when the true men on board seizedhim. 

Then Horn took up his bugle once more and sounded it so loudly that atthe first blast the door was uncovered; at the second he could enter thetower; the third was heard as he led Riminild forth. Lightly did heclasp her round the waist and swing her into his boat, and then pulledfor the ship. 

He brought Riminild on board his ship, and called to his band, "Hothere, my trusty eleven! Our voyage is ended, and we will now go merrilyhome. And you, Athulf, my chosen and tried friend, shall now have yourguerdon; I will bring you to your bride Swanhild, and Riminild and Iwill be wedded at the same time--the same wedding feast shall serve usboth. 

"And Riminild, my sweet pearl, whom I have rescued from the deep, notall that I have suffered on your account grieves me like the perfidythis false one wrought on you, my loving heart. Through him the goodlytale of my twelve followers is broken; now when they gather round thetable, one seat will ever be empty. Must it ever be that no dozen of mencan be got together but one will prove a traitor?"

Then he bade them "Set the traitor in the boat and let it drift out tosea, as we poor children were made to do aforetime. Let the waves bearaway treachery as once they bore innocence--our ship will make betterspeed; and as for him, let him drift till he find a land where notraitors are. "

CHAPTER IV

SIR GALAHAD

 My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure. The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, The hard brands shiver on the steel, The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly, The horse and rider reel: They reel, they roll in changing lists, And when the tide of combat stands, Perfume and flowers fall in showers, That lightly rain from ladies' hands. 

 How sweet are looks that ladies bend On whom their favours fall! For them I battle till the end, To save from shame and thrall: But all my heart is drawn above, My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine: I never felt the kiss of love, Nor maiden's hand in mine. More bounteous aspects on me beam, Me mightier transports move and thrill; So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer A virgin heart in work and will. 

 When down the stormy crescent goes, A light before me swims, Between dark stems the forest glows, I hear a noise of hymns: Then by some secret shrine I ride; I hear a voice but none are there; The stalls are void, the doors are wide, The tapers burning fair. Fair gleams the snowy altar-cloth, The silver vessels sparkle clean, The shrill bell rings, the censer swings, And solemn chaunts resound between. 

 Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres I find a magic bark; I leap on board: no helmsman steers: I float till all is dark. A gentle sound, an awful light! Three angels bear the Holy Grail: With folded feet, in stoles of white, On sleeping wings they sail. Ah, blessed vision! blood of God! My spirit beats her mortal bars, As down dark tides the glory slides, And star-like mingles with the stars. 

 When on my goodly charger borne Thro' dreaming towns I go, The cock crows ere the Christmas morn, The streets are dumb with snow. The tempest crackles on the leads, And, ringing, spins from brand and mail; But o'er the dark a glory spreads, And gilds the driving hail. 

 I leave the plain, I climb the height; No branchy thicket shelter yields; But blessed forms in whistling storms Fly o'er waste fens and windy fields. 

 A maiden knight--to me is given Such hope, I know not fear; I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven That often meet me here. I muse on joy that will not cease, Pure spaces clothed in living beams, Pure lilies of eternal peace, Whose odors haunt my dreams; And, stricken by an angel's hand, This mortal armour that I wear, This weight and size, this heart and eyes, Are touch'd, are turn'd to finest air. 

 The clouds are broken in the sky, And thro' the mountain-walls A rolling organ-harmony Swells up, and shakes and falls. Then move the trees, the copses nod, Wings flutter, voices hover clear: "O just and faithful knight of God! Ride on! the prize is near. " So pass I hostel, hall, and grange; By bridge and ford, by park and pale, All-arm'd I ride, whate'er betide, Until I find the Holy Grail. 

CHAPTER V

RUSTEM AND SOHRAB

Give ear unto the combat of Sohrab against Rustem, though it be a talereplete with tears. 

It came about that on a certain day Rustem arose from his couch, and hismind was filled with forebodings. He bethought him therefore to go outto the chase. So he saddled Rakush and made ready his quiver witharrows. Then he turned him unto the wilds that lie near Turan, even inthe direction of the city of Samengan. And when he was come nigh untoit, he started a herd of asses and made sport among them till that hewas weary of the hunt. Then he caught one and slew it and roasted it forhis meal, and when he had eaten it and broken the bones for the marrow, he laid himself down to slumber, and Rakush cropped the pasture besidehim. 

Now while the hero was sleeping there passed by seven knights of Turan, and they beheld Rakush and coveted him. So they threw their cords at himto ensnare him. But Rakush, when he beheld their design, pawed theground in anger, and fell upon them as he had fallen upon the lion. Andof one man he bit off the head, and another he struck down under hishoofs, and he would have overcome them all, but they were too many. Sothey ensnared him and led him into the city, thinking in their hearts, "Verily a goodly capture have we made. " But Rustem when he awoke fromhis slumbers was downcast and sore grieved when he saw not his steed, and he said unto himself:

"How can I stand against the Turks, and how can I traverse the desertalone?"

And his heart was full of trouble. Then he sought for the traces of thehorse's hoofs, and followed them, and they led him even unto the gatesof the city. Now when those within beheld Rustem, and that he camebefore them on foot, the King and the nobles came forth to greet him, and inquired of him how this was come about. Then Rustem told them howRakush was vanished while he slumbered, and how he had followed histrack even unto these gates. And he sware a great oath, and vowed thatif his courser were not restored unto him many heads should quit theirtrunks. Then the King of Samengan, when he saw that Rustem was besidehimself with anger, spoke words of soothing, and said that none of hispeople should do wrong unto the hero; and he begged him that he wouldenter into his house and abide with him until that search had been made, saying:

"Surely Rakush cannot be hid. "

And Rustem was satisfied at these words, and cast suspicion from hisspirit, and entered the house of the King, and feasted with him, andbeguiled the hours with wine. And the King rejoiced in his guest, andencompassed him with sweet singers and all honour. And when the nightwas fallen the King himself led Rustem unto a couch perfumed with muskand roses, and he bade him slumber sweetly until the morning. And hedeclared to him yet again that all was well for him and for his steed. 

Now when a portion of the night was spent, and the star of morning stoodhigh in the arch of heaven, the door of Rustem's chamber was opened, anda murmur of soft voices came in from the threshold. And there steppedwithin a slave bearing a lamp perfumed with amber, and a woman whosebeauty was veiled came after her. And as she moved musk was scatteredfrom her robes. And the women came nigh unto the bed of the hero heavywith wine and slumber. And he was amazed when he saw them. And when hehad roused him somewhat he spake and said:

"Who are thou, and what is thy name and thy desire, and what seekestthou from me in the dark night?"

Then the Peri-faced answered him, saying, "I am Tahmineh, the daughterof the King of Samengan, the race of the leopard and the lion, and noneof the princes of this earth are worthy of my hand, neither hath any manseen me unveiled. But my heart is torn with anguish, and my spirit istossed with desire, for I have heard of thy deeds of prowess, and howthou fearest neither Deev nor lion, neither leopard nor crocodile, andhow thy hand is swift to strike, and how thou didst venture alone intoMazinderan, and how wild asses are devoured of thee, and how the earthgroaneth under the tread of thy feet, and how men perish at thy blows, and how even the eagle dareth not swoop down upon her prey when shebeholdeth thy sword. These things and more have they told unto me, andmine eyes have yearned to look upon thy face. And now hath God broughtthee within the gates of my father, and I am come to say unto thee thatI am thine if thou wilt hear me, and if thou wilt not, none other will Iespouse. And consider, O Pehliva, how that love has obscured mineunderstanding and withdrawn me from the bosom of discretion, yetperadventure God will grant unto me a son like to thee for strength andvalour, to whom shall be given the empire of the world. And if thou wiltlisten unto me, I will lead forth before thee Rakush thy steed, and Iwill place under thy feet the land of Samengan. "

Now while this moon of beauty was yet speaking, Rustem regarded her. Andhe saw that she was fair, and that wisdom abode in her mind; and when heheard of Rakush, his spirit was decided within him, and he held thatthis adventure could not end save gloriously. So he sent a Mubid untothe King and demanded the hand of Tahmineh from her father. And theKing, when he heard the news, was rejoiced, and gave his daughter untothe Pehliva, and they concluded an alliance according to custom and therites. And all men, young and old, within the house and city of the Kingwere glad at this alliance, and called down blessings upon Rustem. 

Now Rustem, when he was alone with the Peri-faced, took from his arm anonyx that was known unto all the world. And he gave it to her, and said:

"Cherish this jewel, and if Heaven cause thee to give birth unto adaughter, fasten it within her locks, and it will shield her from evil;but if it be granted unto thee to bring forth a son, fasten it upon hisarm, that he may wear it like his father. And he shall be strong asKeriman, of stature like unto Saum the son of Neriman, and of grace ofspeech like unto Zal, my father. "

The Peri-faced, when she had heard these words, was glad in hispresence. But when the day was passed there came in unto them the Kingher father, and he told Rustem how that tidings of Rakush were come untohis ears, and how that the courser would shortly be within the gates. And Rustem, when he heard it, was filled with longing after his steed, and when he knew that he was come he hastened forth to caress him. Andwith his own hands he fastened the saddle, and gave thanks unto Ormuzd, who had restored his joy between his hands. Then he knew that the timeto depart was come. And he opened his arms and took unto his heartTahmineh the fair of face, and he bathed her cheek with his tears andcovered her hair with kisses. Then he flung him upon Rakush, and theswift-footed bare him quickly from out of her sight. And Tahmineh wassorrowful exceedingly, and Rustem too was filled with thoughts as heturned him back unto Zaboulistan. And he pondered this adventure in hisheart, but to no man did he speak of what he had seen or done. 

Now when nine moons had run their course there was born unto Tahmineh ason in the likeness of his father, a babe whose mouth was filled withsmiles, wherefore men called him Sohrab. And when he numbered but onemonth he was like unto a child of twelve, and when he numbered fiveyears he was skilled in arms and all the arts of war, and when ten yearswere rolled above his head there was none in the land that could resisthim in the games of strength. Then he came before his mother and spakewords of daring. And he said:

"Since I am taller and stouter than my peers, teach unto me my race andlineage, and what I shall say when men ask me the name of my sire. Butif thou refuse an answer unto my demands, I will strike thee out fromthe rolls of the living. "

When Tahmineh beheld the ardour of her son, she smiled in her spiritbecause that his fire was like to that of his father. And she opened hermouth and said:

"Hear my words, O my son, and be glad in thine heart, neither give wayin thy spirit to anger. For thou art the offspring of Rustem, thou artdescended from the seed of Saum and Zal, and Neriman was thy forefather. And since God made the world it hath held none like unto Rustem, thysire. "

Then she showed to him a letter written by the Pehliva, and gave to himthe gold and jewels Rustem had sent at his birth. And she spake andsaid:

"Cherish these gifts with gratitude, for it is thy father who hath sentthem. Yet remember, O my son, that thou close thy lips concerning thesethings; for Turan groaneth under the hand of Afrasiyab, and he is foeunto Rustem the glorious. If, therefore, he should learn of thee, hewould seek to destroy the son for hatred of the sire. Moreover, O myboy, if Rustem learned that thou wert become a mountain of valour, perchance he would demand thee at my hands, and the sorrow of thy losswould crush the heart of thy mother. "

But Sohrab replied, "Nought can be hidden upon earth for aye. To all menare known the deeds of Rustem, and since my birth be thus noble, wherefore hast thou kept it dark from me so long? I will go forth withan army of brave Turks and lead them unto Iran, I will cast Kai Kaousfrom off his throne, I will give to Rustem the crown of the Kaianides, and together we will subdue the land of Turan, and Afrasiyab shall beslain by my hands. Then will I mount the throne in his stead. But thoushalt be called Queen of Iran, for since Rustem is my father and I amhis son no other kings shall rule in this world, for to us alonebehoveth it to wear the crowns of might. And I pant in longing after thebattlefield, and I desire that the world should behold my prowess. But ahorse is needful unto me, a steed tall and strong of power to bear me, for it beseemeth me not to go on foot before mine enemies. "

Now Tahmineh, when she had heard the words of this boy, rejoiced in hersoul at his courage. So she bade the guardians of the flocks lead outthe horses before Sohrab her son. And they did as she had bidden, andSohrab surveyed the steeds, and tested their strength like as his fatherhad done before him of old, and he bowed them under his hand, and hecould not be satisfied. And thus for many days did he seek a worthysteed. Then one came before him and told of a foal sprung from Rakush, the swift of foot. When Sohrab heard the tidings he smiled, and badethat the foal be led before him. And he tested it and found it to bestrong. So he saddled it and sprang upon its back, and cried, saying:

"Now that I own a horse like thee, the world shall be made dark tomany. "

Then he made ready for war against Iran, and the nobles and warriorsflocked around him. And when all was in order Sohrab came before hisgrandsire and craved his counsel and his aid to go forth into the landof Iran and seek out his father. And the King of Samengan, when he heardthese wishes, deemed them to be just, and he opened the doors of histreasures without stint and gave unto Sohrab of his wealth, for he wasfilled with pleasure at this boy. And he invested Sohrab with all thehonours of a King, and he bestowed on him all the marks of his goodpleasure. 

Meantime a certain man brought news unto Afrasiyab that Sohrab wasmaking ready an army to fall upon Iran, and to cast Kai Kaous from offhis throne. And he told Afrasiyab how the courage and valour of Sohrabexceeded words. And Afrasiyab, when he heard this, hid not hiscontentment, and he called before him Human and Barman, the doughty. Then he bade them gather together an army and join the ranks of Sohrab, and he confided to them his secret purpose, but he enjoined them tell noman thereof. For he said:

"Into our hands hath it been given to settle the course of the world. For it is known unto me that Sohrab is sprung from Rustem the Pehliva, but from Rustem must it be hidden who it is that goeth out against him, then peradventure he will perish by the hands of this young lion, andIran, devoid of Rustem, will fall a prey into my hands. Then we willsubdue Sohrab also, and all the world will be ours. But if it be writtenthat Sohrab fall under the hand of Tehemten, then the grief he shallendure when he shall learn that he hath slain his son will bring him tothe grave for sorrow. "

So spake Afrasiyab in his guile, and when he had done unveiling hisblack heart he bade the warriors depart unto Samengan. And they barewith them gifts of great price to pour before the face of Sohrab. Andthey bare also a letter filled with soft words. And in the letterAfrasiyab lauded Sohrab for his resolve, and told him how that if Iranbe subdued the world would henceforth know peace, for upon his own headshould he place the crown of the Kaianides; and Turan, Iran, andSamengan should be as one land. 

When Sohrab had read this letter, and saw the gifts and the aid sent outto him, he rejoiced aloud, for he deemed that now none could withstandhis might. So he caused the cymbals of departure to be clashed, and thearmy made them ready to go forth. Then Sohrab led them into the land ofIran. And their track was marked by desolation and destruction, for theyspared nothing that they passed. And they spread fire and dismay abroad, and they marched on unstayed until they came unto the White Castle, thefortress wherein Iran put its trust. 

Now the guardian of the castle was named Hujir, and there lived with himGustahem the grave, but he was grown old, and could aid no longer savewith his counsels. And there abode also his daughter Gurdafrid, awarlike maid, firm in the saddle, and practised in the fight. Now whenHujir beheld from afar a dusky cloud of armed men he came forth to meetthem. And Sohrab, when he saw him, drew his sword, and demanded hisname, and bade him prepare to meet his end. And he taunted him withrashness that he was come forth thus unaided to stand against a lion. But Hujir answered Sohrab with taunts again, and vowed that he wouldsever his head from his trunk and send it for a trophy unto the Shah. Yet Sohrab only smiled when he heard these words, and he challengedHujir to come near. And they met in combat, and wrestled sore one withanother, and stalwart were their strokes and strong; but Sohrab overcameHujir as though he were an infant, and he bound him and sent him captiveunto Human. 

But when those within the castle learned that their chief was bound theyraised great lamentation, and their fears were sore. And Gurdafrid, too, when she learned it, was grieved, but she was ashamed also for the fateof Hujir. So she took forth burnished mail and clad herself therein, andshe hid her tresses under a helmet of Roum, and she mounted a steed ofbattle and came forth before the walls like to a warrior. And sheuttered a cry of thunder, and flung it amid the ranks of Turan, and shedefied the champions to come forth to single combat. And none came, forthey beheld her how she was strong, and they knew not that it was awoman, and they were afraid. But Sohrab, when he saw it, stepped forthand said:

"I will accept thy challenge, and a second prize will fall into myhands. "

Then he girded himself and made ready for the fight. And the maid, whenshe saw he was ready, rained arrows upon him with art, and they fellquick like hail, and whizzed about his head; and Sohrab, when he saw it, could not defend himself, and was angry and ashamed. Then he covered hishead with his shield and ran at the maid. But she, when she saw himapproach, dropped her bow and couched a lance, and thrust at Sohrab withvigour, and shook him mightily, and it wanted little and she would havethrown him from his seat. And Sohrab was amazed, and his wrath knew nobounds. Then he ran at Gurdafrid with fury, and seized the reins of hersteed, and caught her by the waist, and tore her armour, and threw herupon the ground. Yet ere he could raise his hand to strike her, she drewher sword and shivered his lance in twain, and leaped again upon hersteed. And when she saw that the day was hers, she was weary of furthercombat, and she sped back unto the fortress. But Sohrab gave rein untohis horse, and followed after her in his great anger. And he caught her, and seized her, and tore the helmet off her head, for he desired to lookupon the face of the man who could withstand the son of Rustem. And lo!when he had done so, there rolled forth from the helmet coils of duskyhue, and Sohrab beheld it was a woman that had overcome him in thefight. And he was confounded. But when he had found speech he said:

"If the daughters of Iran are like to thee, and go forth unto battle, none can stand against this land. "

Then he took his cord and threw it about her, and bound her in itssnare, saying:

"Seek not to escape me, O moon of beauty, for never hath prey like untothee fallen between my hands. "

Then Gurdafrid, full of wile, turned unto him her face that wasunveiled, for she beheld no other means of safety, and she said untohim:

"O hero without flaw, is it well that thou shouldest seek to make mecaptive, and show me unto the army? For they have beheld our combat, andthat I overcame thee, and surely now they will gibe when they learn thatthy strength was withstood by a woman. Better would it beseem thee tohide this adventure, lest thy cheeks have cause to blush because of me. Therefore let us conclude a peace together. The castle shall be thine, and all it holds; follow after me then, and take possession of thineown. "

Now Sohrab, when he had listened, was beguiled by her words and herbeauty, and he said:

"Thou dost wisely to make peace with me, for verily these walls couldnot resist my might. "

And he followed after her unto the heights of the castle, and he stoodwith her before its gates. And Gustahem, when he saw them, opened theportal, and Gurdafrid stepped within the threshold, but when Sohrabwould have followed after her she shut the door upon him. Then Sohrabsaw that she had befooled him, and his fury knew no bounds. But ere hewas recovered from his surprise she came out upon the battlements andscoffed at him, and counselled him to go back whence he was come; forsurely, since he could not stand against a woman, he would fall an easyprey before Rustem, when the Pehliva should have learned that robbersfrom Turan were broken into the land. And Sohrab was made yet madder forher words, and he departed from the walls in his wrath, and rode far inhis anger, and spread terror in his path. And he vowed that he would yetbring the maid into subjection. 

In the meantime Gustahem the aged called before him a scribe, and badehim write unto Kai Kaous all that was come about, and how an army wascome forth from Turan, at whose head rode a chief that was a child inyears, a lion in strength and stature. And he told how Hujir had beenbound, and how the fortress was like to fall into the hands of theenemy; for there were none to defend it save only his daughter andhimself and he craved the Shah to come to their aid. 

Albeit when the day had followed yet again upon the night, Sohrab madeready his host to fall upon the castle. But when he came near thereto hefound it was empty, and the doors thereof stood open, and no warriorsappeared upon its walls. And he was surprised, for he knew not that inthe darkness the inmates were fled by a passage that was hidden underthe earth. And he searched the building for Gurdafrid, for his heartyearned after her in love and he cried aloud:

"Woe, woe is me that this moon is vanished behind the clouds!"

Now when Kai Kaous had gotten the writing of Gustahem, he was soreafflicted and much afraid, and he called about him his nobles and askedtheir counsels. And he said:

"Who shall stand against this Turk? For Gustahem doth liken him in powerunto Rustem, and saith he resembleth the seed of Neriman. "

Then the warriors cried with one accord, "Unto Rustem alone can we lookin this danger!"

And Kai Kaous hearkened to their voice, and he called for a scribe anddictated unto him a letter. And he wrote unto his Pehliva, and invokedthe blessings of Heaven upon his head, and he told him all that was cometo pass, and how new dangers threatened Iran, and how to Rustem alonecould he look for help in his trouble. And he recalled unto Tehemten allthat he had done for him in the days that were gone by, and he entreatedhim once again to be his refuge. And he said:

"When thou shalt receive this letter, stay not to speak the word thathangeth upon thy lips; and if thou bearest roses in thy hands, stop notto smell them, but haste thee to help us in our need. "

Then Kai Kaous sent forth Gew with this writing unto Zaboulistan, andbade him neither rest nor tarry until he should stand before the face ofRustem. And he said--

"When thou hast done my behest, turn thee again unto me; neither abidewithin the courts of the Pehliva, nor linger by the roadside. "

And Gew did as the Shah commanded, and took neither food nor rest tillhe set foot within the gates of Rustem. And Rustem greeted him kindly, and asked him of his mission; and when he had read the writing of theShah, he questioned Gew concerning Sohrab. For he said:

"I should not marvel if such an hero arose in Iran, but that a warriorof renown should come forth from amid the Turks, I cannot believe it. But thou sayest none knoweth whence cometh this knight. I have myself ason in Samengan, but he is yet an infant, and his mother writeth to methat he rejoiceth in the sports of his age, and though he be like tobecome a hero among men, his time is not yet come to lead forth an army. And that which thou sayest hath been done; surely it is not the work ofa babe. But enter, I pray thee, into my house, and we will confertogether concerning this adventure. "

Then Rustem bade his cooks make ready a banquet, and he feasted Gew, andtroubled his head with wine, and caused him to forget cares and time. But when morn was come Gew remembered the commands of the Shah that hetarry not, but return with all speed, and he spake thereof to Rustem, and prayed him to make known his resolve. But Rustem spake, saying:

"Disquiet not thyself, for death will surely fall upon these men ofTuran. Stay with me yet another day and rest, and water thy lips thatare parched. For though this Sohrab be a hero like to Saum and Zal andNeriman, verily he shall fall by my hands. "

And he made ready yet another banquet, and three days they carousedwithout ceasing. But on the fourth Gew uprose with resolve, and camebefore Rustem girt for departure. And he said:

"It behoveth me to return, O Pehliva, for I bethink me how Kai Kaous isa man hard and choleric, and the fear of Sohrab weigheth upon his heart, and his soul burneth with impatience, and he hath lost sleep, and hathhunger and thirst on this account. And he will be wroth against us if wedelay yet longer to do his behest. "

Then Rustem said, "Fear not, for none on earth dare be angered with me. "

But he did as Gew desired, and made ready his army, and saddled Rakush, and set forth from Zaboulistan, and a great train followed after him. 

Now when they came nigh unto the courts of the Shah, the nobles cameforth to meet them, and do homage before Rustem. And when they were comein, Rustem gat him from Rakush and hastened into the presence of hislord. But Kai Kaous, when he beheld him, was angry, and spake not, andhis brows were knit with fury; and when Rustem had done obeisance beforehim, he unlocked the doors of his mouth, and words of folly escaped hislips. And he said:

"Who is Rustem, that he defieth my power and disregardeth my commands?If I had a sword within my grasp I would spilt his head like to anorange. Seize him, I command, and hang him upon the nearest gallows, andlet his name be never spoken in my presence. "

When he heard these words Gew trembled in his heart, but he said, "Dostthou set forth thy hand against Rustem?"

And the Shah when he heard it was beside himself, and he cried with aloud voice that Gew be hanged together with the other; and he bade Tuslead them forth. And Tus would have led them out, for he hoped the angerof the Shah would be appeased; but Rustem broke from his grasp and stoodbefore Kai Kaous, and all the nobles were filled with fear when they sawhis anger. And he flung reproaches at Kai Kaous, and he recalled to himhis follies, and the march into Mazinderan and Hamaveran, and his flightinto Heaven; and he reminded him how that but for Rustem he would notnow be seated upon the throne of light. And he bade him threaten Sohrabthe Turk with his gallows, and he said:

"I am a free man and no slave, and am servant alone unto God; andwithout Rustem Kai Kaous is as nothing, And the world is subject untome, and Rakush is my throne, and my sword is my seal, and my helmet mycrown. And but for me, who called forth Kai Kobad, thine eyes had neverlooked upon this throne. And had I desired it I could have sat upon itsseat. But now am I weary of thy follies, and I will turn me away fromIran, and when this Turk shall have put you under his yoke I shall notlearn thereof. "

Then he turned him and strode from out the presence-chamber. And hesprang upon Rakush, who waited without, and he was vanished from beforetheir eyes ere yet the nobles had rallied from their astonishment. Andthey were downcast and oppressed with boding cares, and they heldcounsel among themselves what to do; for Rustem was their mainstay, andthey knew that, bereft of his arm and counsel, they could not standagainst this Turk. And they blamed Kai Kaous, and counted over the gooddeeds that Rustem had done for him, and they pondered and spake long. And in the end they resolved to send a messenger unto Kai Kaous, andthey chose from their midst Gudarz the aged, and bade him stand beforethe Shah. And Gudarz did as they desired, and he spake long and withoutfear, and he counted over each deed that had been done by Rustem; and hereproached the Shah with his ingratitude, and he said how Rustem was theshepherd, and how the flock could not be led without its leader. And KaiKaous heard him unto the end, and he knew that his words were the wordsof reason and truth, and he was ashamed of that which he had done, andconfounded when he beheld his acts thus naked before him. And he humbledhimself before Gudarz, and said:

"That which thou sayest, surely it is right. "

And he entreated Gudarz to go forth and seek Rustem, and bid him forgetthe evil words of his Shah, and bring him back to the succor of Iran. And Gudarz hastened forth to do as Kai Kaous desired, and he told thenobles of his mission, and they joined themselves unto him, and all thechiefs of Iran went forth in quest of Rustem. And when they had foundhim, they prostrated themselves into the dust before him, and Gudarztold him of his mission, and he prayed him to remember that Kai Kaouswas a man devoid of understanding, whose thoughts flowed over like tonew wine that fermenteth. And he said:

"Though Rustem be angered against the King, yet hath the land of Irandone no wrong that it should perish at his hands. Yet, if Rustem save itnot, surely it will fall under this Turk. "

But Rustem said, "My patience hath an end, and I fear none but God. Whatis this Kai Kaous that he should anger me? and what am I that I haveneed of him? I have not deserved the evil words that he spake unto me, but now will I think of them no longer, but cast aside all thoughts ofIran. "

When the nobles heard these words they grew pale, and fear took hold ontheir hearts. But Gudarz, full of wisdom, opened his mouth, and said:

"O Pehliva! the land, when it shall learn of this, will deem that Rustemis fled before the face of this Turk; and when men shall believe thatTehemten is afraid, they will cease to combat, and Iran will bedowntrodden at his hands. Turn thee not, therefore, at this hour fromthy allegiance to the Shah, and tarnish not thy glory by this retreat, neither suffer that the downfall of Iran rest upon thy head. Put fromthee, therefore, the words that Kai Kaous spake in his empty anger, andlead us forth to battle against this Turk. For it must not be spokenthat Rustem feared to fight a beardless boy. "

And Rustem listened, and pondered these words in his heart, and knewthat they were good. But he said:

"Fear hath never been known of me, neither hath Rustem shunned the dinof arms, and I depart not because of Sohrab, but because that scorn andinsult have been my recompense. "

Yet when he had pondered a while longer, he saw that he must return untothe Shah. So he did that which he knew to be right, and he rode till hecame unto the gates of Kai Kaous, and he strode with a proud step intohis presence. 

Now when the Shah beheld Rustem from afar, he stepped down from off histhrone and came before Pehliva, and craved his pardon for that which wascome about. And he said how he had been angered because Rustem hadtarried in his coming, and how haste was his birthright, and how he hadforgotten himself in his vexation. But now was his mouth filled with thedust of repentance. And Rustem said:

"The world is the Shah's, and it behoveth thee to do as beseemeth theebest with thy servants. And until old age shall my loins be girt infealty unto thee. And may power and majesty be thine for ever!"

And Kai Kaous answered and said, "O my Pehliva, may thy days be blessedunto the end!"

Then he invited him to feast with him, and they drank wine till far intothe night, and held counsel together how they should act; and slavespoured rich gifts before Rustem, and the nobles rejoiced, and all waswell again within the gates of the King. 

Then when the sun had risen and clothed the world with love, theclarions of war were sounded throughout the city, and men made themready to go forth in enmity before the Turks. And the legions of Persiacame forth at the behest of their Shah, and their countless thousandshid the earth under their feet, and the air was darkened by theirspears. And when they were come unto the plains where stood the fortressof Hujir, they set up their tents as was their manner. So the watchmansaw them from the battlements, and he set up a great cry. And Sohrabheard the cry, and questioned the man wherefore he shouted; and when helearned that the enemy were come, he rejoiced, and demanded a cup ofwine, and drank to their destruction. Then he called forth Human andshowed him the army, and bade him be of good cheer, for he said that hesaw within its ranks no hero of mighty mace who could stand againsthimself. So he bade his warriors to a banquet of wine, and he said thatthey would feast until the time was come to meet their foes in battle. And they did as Sohrab said. 

Now when night had thrown her mantle over the earth, Rustem came beforethe Shah and craved that he would suffer him to go forth beyond the campthat he might see what manner of man was this stripling. And Kai Kaousgranted his request, and said that it was worthy a Pehliva of renown. Then Rustem went forth disguised in the garb of a Turk, and he enteredthe castle in secret, and he came within the chamber where Sohrab heldhis feast. Now when he had looked upon the boy he saw that he was liketo a tall cypress of good sap, and that his arms were sinewy and stronglike to the flanks of a camel, and that his stature was that of a hero. And he saw that round about him stood brave warriors. And slaves withgolden bugles poured wine before them, and they were all glad, neitherdid they dream of sorrow. Then it came about that while Rustem regardedthem, Zindeh changed his seat and came nigh unto the spot where Rustemwas watching. Now Zindeh was brother unto Tahmineh, and she had sent himforth with her son that he might point out to him his father, whom healone knew of all the army, and she did it that harm might not befall ifthe heroes should meet in battle. Now Zindeh, when he had changed hisseat, thought that he espied a watcher, and he strode toward the placewhere Rustem was hid, and he came before him and said--

"Who art thou? Come forth into the light that I may behold thy face. "

But ere he could speak further, Rustem had lifted up his hand and struckhim, and laid him dead upon the ground. 

Now Sohrab, when he saw that Zindeh was gone out, was disquieted, and heasked of his slaves wherefore the hero returned not unto the banquet. Sothey went forth to seek him, and when they had found him in his blood, they came and told Sohrab what they had seen. But Sohrab would notbelieve it; so he ran to the spot and bade them bring torches, and allthe warriors and singing girls followed after him. Then when Sohrab sawthat it was true he was sore grieved; but he suffered not that thebanquet be ended, for he would not that the spirits of his men be dampedwith pity. So they went back yet again to the feast. 

Meanwhile Rustem returned him to the camp, and as he would have enteredthe lines he encountered Gew, who went around to see that all was safe. And Gew, when he saw a tall man clad In the garb of a Turk, drew hissword and held himself ready for combat. But Rustem smiled and openedhis mouth, and Gew knew his voice, and came to him and questioned himwhat he did without in the darkness. And Rustem told him. Then he wentbefore Kai Kaous also and related what he had seen, and how no man likeunto Sohrab was yet come forth from amid the Turks. And he likened himunto Saum, the son of Neriman. 

Now when the morning was come, Sohrab put on his armour. Then he wentunto a height whence he could look down over the camp of the Iranians. And he took with him Hujir, and spake to him, saying:

"Seek not to deceive me, nor swerve from the paths of truth. For if thoureply unto my questions with sincerity, I will loosen thy bonds and givethee treasures; but if thou deceive me, thou shalt languish till deathin thy chains. "

And Hujir said, "I will give answer unto thee according to myknowledge. "

Then Sohrab said, "I am about to question thee concerning the nobleswhose camps are spread beneath our feet, and thou shalt name unto methose whom I point out. Behold yon tent of gold brocade, adorned withskins of leopard, before whose doors stand an hundred elephants of war. Within its gates is a throne of turquoise, and over it floateth astandard of violet with a moon and sun worked in its centre. Tell untome now whose is this pavilion that standeth thus in the midst of thewhole camp?"

And Hujir replied, "It pertaineth unto the Shah of Iran. "

Then Sohrab said, "I behold on its right hand yet another tent draped inthe colours of mourning, and above it floateth a standard whereon isworked an elephant. "

And Hujir said, "It is the tent of Tus, the son of Nuder, for he bearethan elephant as his ensign. "

Then Sohrab said, "Whose is the camp in which stand many warriors cladin rich armour? A flag of gold with a lion worked upon it waveth alongits field. "

And Hujir said, "It belongeth unto Gudarz the brave. And those who standabout it are his sons, for eighty men of might are sprung from hisloins. "

Then Sohrab said, "To whom belongeth the tent draped with green tissues?Before its doors is planted the flag of Kawah. I see upon its throne aPehliva, nobler of mien than all his fellows, whose head striketh thestars. And beside him standeth a steed tall as he, and his standardshoweth a lion and a writhing dragon. "

When Hujir heard this question he thought within himself, "If I tellunto this lion the signs whereby he may know Rustem the Pehliva, surelyhe will fall upon him and seek to destroy him. It will beseem me better, therefore, to keep silent, and to omit his name from the list of theheroes. " So he said unto Sohrab:

"This is some ally who is come unto Kai Kaous from far Cathay, and hisname is not known unto me. "

And Sohrab when he heard it was downcast, and his heart was sad that hecould nowhere discover Rustem; and though it seemed unto him that hebeheld the marks whereby his mother said that he would know him, hecould not credit the words of his eyes against the words of Hujir. Stillhe asked yet again the name of the warrior, and yet again Hujir deniedit unto him, for it was written that that should come to pass which hadbeen decreed. But Sohrab ceased not from his questionings. And he asked:

"Who dwelleth beneath the standard with the head of a wolf?"

And Hujir said, "It is Gew, the son of Gudarz, who dwelleth within thattent, and men call him Gew the valiant. "

Then Sohrab said, "Whose is the seat over which are raised awnings andbrocades of Roum, that glisten with gold in the sunlight?"

And Hujir said, "It is the throne of Fraburz, the son of the Shah. "

Then Sohrab said, "It beseemeth the son of a Shah to surround himselfwith such splendour. "

And he pointed unto a tent with trappings of yellow that was encircledby flags of many colours. And he questioned of its owner. 

And Hujir said, "Guraz the lion-hearted is master therein. "

Then Sohrab, when he could not learn the tent of his father, questionedHujir concerning Rustem, and he asked yet a third time of the greentent. Yet Hujir ever replied that he knew not the name of its master. And when Sohrab pressed him concerning Rustem, he said that Rustemlingered in Zaboulistan, for it was the feast of roses. But Sohrabrefused to give ear unto the thought that Kai Kaous should go forth tobattle without the aid of Rustem, whose might none could match. So hesaid unto Hujir:

"And thou show not unto me the tents of Rustem, I will strike thy headfrom off thy shoulders, and the world shall fade before thine eyes. Choose, therefore, the truth or thy life. "

And Hujir thought within himself, "Though five score men cannotwithstand Rustem when he be roused to battle-fury, my mind misgiveth methat he may have found his equal in this boy. And, for that thestripling is younger, it might come about that he subdue the Pehliva. What recketh my life against the weal of Iran? I will therefore abandonme into his hands rather than show unto him the marks of Rustem thePehliva. So he said:

"Why seekest thou to know Rustem the Pehliva? Surely thou wilt know himin battle, and he shall strike thee dumb, and quell thy pride of youth. Yet I will not show him unto thee. "

When Sohrab heard these words he raised his sword and smote Hujir, andmade an end of him with a great blow. Then he made himself ready forfight, and leaped upon his steed of battle, and he rode till he cameunto the camp of the Iranians, and he broke down the barriers with hisspear, and fear seized upon all men when they beheld his stalwart formand majesty of mien and action. Then Sohrab opened his mouth, and hisvoice of thunder was heard even unto the far ends of the camp. And hespake words of pride, and called forth the Shah to do battle with him, and he sware with a loud voice that the blood of Zindeh should beavenged. Now when Sohrab's voice had run throughout the camp, confusionspread within its borders, and none of those who stood about the thronewould accept his challenge for the Shah. And with one accord they saidthat Rustem was their sole support, and that his sword alone could causethe sun to weep. And Tus sped him within the courts of Rustem. AndRustem said:

"The hardest tasks doth Kai Kaous ever lay upon me. "

But the nobles would not suffer him to linger, neither to waste time inwords, and they buckled upon him his armour, and they threw hisleopard-skin about him, and they saddled Rakush, and made ready the herofor the strife. And they pushed him forth, and called after him:

"Haste, haste, for no common combat awaiteth thee, for verily Ahrimanstandeth before us. "

Now when Rustem was come before Sohrab, and beheld the youth, brave andstrong, with a breast like unto Saum, he said to him:

"Let us go apart from hence, and step forth from out the lines of thearmies. "

For there was a zone between the camps that none might pass. And Sohrabassented to the demand of Rustem, and they stepped out into it, and madethem ready for single combat. But when Sohrab would have fallen uponhim, the soul of Rustem melted with compassion, and he desired to save aboy thus fair and valiant. So he said unto him:

"O young man, the air is warm and soft, but the earth is cold. I havepity upon thee, and would not take from thee the boon of life. Yet if wecombat together, surely thou wilt fall by my hands, for none havewithstood my power, neither men nor Deevs nor dragons. Desist, therefore, from this enterprise, and quit the ranks of Turan, for Iranhath need of heroes like unto thee. "

Now while Rustem spake thus, the heart of Sohrab went out to him. And helooked at him wistfully, and said:

"O hero, I am about to put unto thee a question, and I entreat of theethat thou reply to me according to the truth. Tell unto me thy name, that my heart may rejoice in thy words, for it seemeth unto me that thouart none other than Rustem, the son of Zal, the son of Saum, the son ofNeriman, "

But Rustem replied, "Thou errest, I am not Rustem, neither am I sprungfrom the race of Neriman. Rustem is a Pehliva, but I, I am a slave, andown neither a crown nor a throne, "

These words spake Rustem that Sohrab might be afraid when he beheld hisprowess, and deem that yet greater might was hidden in the camp of hisenemy. But Sohrab when he heard these words was sad, and his hopes thatwere risen so high were shattered, and the day that had looked so brightwas made dark unto his eyes. Then he made him ready for the combat, andthey fought, until their spears were shivered and their swords hackedlike unto saws. And when all their weapons were bent, they betook theminto clubs, and they waged war with these until they were broken. Thenthey strove until their mail was torn and their horses spent withexhaustion, and even then they could not desist, but wrestled with oneanother with their hands till that the sweat and blood ran down fromtheir bodies. And they contended until their throats were parched andtheir bodies weary, and to neither was given the victory. They stayedthem a while to rest, and Rustem thought within his mind how all hisdays he had not coped with such a hero. And it seemed to him that hiscontest with the White Deev had been as nought to this. 

Now when they had rested a while they fell to again, and they foughtwith arrows, but still none could surpass the other. Then Rustem stroveto hurl Sohrab from his steed, but it availed him naught, and he couldshake him no more than the mountain can be moved from its seat. So theybetook themselves again unto clubs, and Sohrab aimed at Rustem withmight and smote him, and Rustem reeled beneath the stroke, and bit hislips in agony. Then Sohrab vaunted his advantage, and bade Rustem go andmeasure him with his equals; for though his strength be great, he couldnot stand against a youth. So they went their ways, and Rustem fell uponthe men of Turan, and spread confusion far and wide among their ranks;and Sohrab raged along the lines of Iran, and men and horses fell underhis hands. And Rustem was sad in his soul, and he turned with sorrowinto his camp. But when he saw the destruction Sohrab had wrought hisanger was kindled, and he reproached the youth, and challenged him tocome forth yet again to single combat. But because that the day was farspent they resolved to rest until the morrow. 

Then Rustem went before Kai Kaous and told him of this boy of valour, and he prayed unto Ormuzd that He would give him strength to vanquishhis foe. Yet he made ready also his house lest he should fall in thefight, and he commanded that a tender message be borne unto Rudabeh, andhe sent words of comfort unto Zal, his father. And Sohrab, too, in hiscamp lauded the might of Rustem, and he said how the battle had beensore, and how his mind had misgiven him of the issue. And he spake untoHuman, saying:

"My mind is filled with thoughts of this aged man, mine adversary, forit would seem unto me that his stature is like unto mine, and that Ibehold about him the tokens that my mother recounted unto me. And myheart goeth out toward him, and I muse if it be Rustem, my father. Forit behoveth me not to combat him. Wherefore, I beseech thee, tell untome how this may be. "

But Human answered and said, "Oft have I looked upon the face of Rustemin battle, and mine eyes have beheld his deeds of valour; but this manin no wise resembleth him, nor is his manner of wielding his club thesame. "

These things spake Human in his vileness, because that Afrasiyab hadenjoined him to lead Sohrab into destruction. And Sohrab held his peace, but he was not wholly satisfied. 

Now when the day had begun to lighten the sky and clear away theshadows, Rustem and Sohrab strode forth unto the midway spot thatstretched between the armies. And Sohrab bare in his hands a mightyclub, and the garb of battle was upon him; but his mouth was full ofsmiles, and he asked of Rustem how he had rested, and he said:

"Wherefore hast thou prepared thy heart for battle? Cast from thee, Ibeg, this mace and sword of vengeance, and let us doff our armour, andseat ourselves together in amity, and let wine soften our angry deeds. For it seemeth unto me that this conflict is impure. And if thou wiltlisten to my desires, my heart shall speak to thee of love, and I willmake the tears of shame spring up into thine eyes. And for this cause Iask thee yet again, tell me thy name, neither hide it any longer, for Ibehold that thou art of noble race. And it would seem unto me that thouart Rustem, the chosen one, the Lord of Zaboulistan, the son of Zal, theson of Saum the hero. "

But Rustem answered, "O hero of tender age, we are not come forth toparley but to combat, and mine ears are sealed against thy words oflure. I am an old man, and thou art young, but we are girded for battle, and the Master of the world shall decide between us. "

Then Sohrab said, "O man of many years, wherefore wilt thou not listento the counsel of a stripling? I desired that thy soul should leave theeupon thy bed, but thou hast elected to perish in the combat. That whichis ordained must be done, therefore let us make ready for the conflict. "

So they made them ready, and when they had bound their steeds they fellupon each other, and the crash of their encounter was heard like thunderthroughout the camps. And they measured their strength from the morninguntil the setting of the sun. And when the day was about to vanish, Sohrab seized upon Rustem by the girdle and threw him upon the ground, and kneeled upon him, and drew forth his sword from the scabbard, andwould have severed his head from his trunk. Then Rustem knew that onlywile could save him. So he opened his mouth and said:

"O young man, thou knowest not the customs of the combat. It is writtenin the laws of honour that he who overthroweth a brave man for the firsttime should not destroy him, but preserve him for fight a second time, then only is it given unto him to kill his adversary. "

And Sohrab listened to Rustem's words of craft and stayed his hand, andhe let the warrior go, and because that the day was ended he sought tofight no more, but turned him aside and chased the deer until the nightwas spent. Then came to him Human, and asked of the adventures of theday. And Sohrab told him how he had vanquished the tall man, and how hehad granted him freedom. And Human reproached him with his folly, andsaid:

"Alas! young man, thou didst fall into a snare, for this is not thecustom among the brave. And now perchance thou wilt yet fall under thehands of this warrior. "

Sohrab was abashed when he heard the words of Human, but he said:

"Be not grieved, for in an hour we meet again in battle, and verily hewill not stand a third time against my youthful strength. "

Now while Sohrab was thus doing, Rustem was gone beside a running brook, and laved his limbs, and prayed to God in his distress. And he entreatedof Ormuzd that He would grant him such strength that the victory must behis. And Ormuzd heard him, and gave to him such strength that the rockwhereon Rustem stood gave way under his feet, because it had not powerto bear him. Then Rustem saw it was too much, and he prayed yet againthat part thereof be taken from him. And once more Ormuzd listened tohis voice. Then when the time for combat was come, Rustem turned him tothe meeting-place, and his heart was full of cares and his face offears. But Sohrab came forth like a giant refreshed, and he ran atRustem like to a mad elephant, and he cried with a voice of thunder:

"O thou who didst flee from battle, wherefore art thou come out oncemore against me? But I say unto thee, this time shall thy words of guileavail thee naught. "

And Rustem, when he heard him, and looked upon him, was seized withmisgiving, and he learned to know fear. So he prayed to Ormuzd that Hewould restore to him the power He had taken back. But he suffered notSohrab to behold his fears, and they made them ready for the fight. Andhe closed upon Sohrab with all his new-found might, and shook himterribly, and though Sohrab returned his attacks with vigour, the hourof his overthrow was come. For Rustem took him by the girdle and hurledhim unto the earth, and he broke his back like to a reed, and he drewforth his sword to sever his body. Then Sohrab knew it was the end, andhe gave a great sigh, and writhed in his agony, and he said:

"That which is come about, it is my fault, and henceforward will myyouth be a theme of derision among the people. But I sped not forth forempty glory, but I went out to seek my father; for my mother had told meby what tokens I should know him, and I perish for longing after him. And now have my pains been fruitless, for it hath not been given unto meto look upon his face. Yet I say unto thee, if thou shouldest become afish that swimmeth in the depths of the ocean, if thou shouldest changeinto a star that is concealed in the farthest heaven, my father woulddraw thee forth from thy hiding-place, and avenge my death upon theewhen he shall learn that the earth is become my bed. For my father isRustem the Pehliva, and it shall be told unto him how that Sohrab hisson perished in the quest after his face. "

When Rustem heard these words his sword fell from out of his grasp, andhe was shaken with dismay. And there broke from his heart a groan as ofone whose heart was racked with anguish. And the earth became darkbefore his eyes, and he sank down lifeless beside his son. But when hehad opened his eyes once more, he cried unto Sohrab in the agony of hisspirit. And he said:

"Bearest thou about thee a token of Rustem, that I may know that thewords which thou speakest are true? For I am Rustem the unhappy, and maymy name be struck from the lists of men!"

When Sohrab heard these words his misery was boundless, and he cried:

"If thou art indeed my father, then hast thou stained thy sword in thelife-blood of thy son. And thou didst it of thine obstinacy. For Isought to turn thee unto love, and I implored of thee thy name, for Ithought to behold in thee the tokens recounted of my mother. But Iappealed unto thy heart in vain, and now is the time gone by formeeting. Yet open, I beseech thee, mine armour and regard the jewel uponmine arm. For it is an onyx given unto me by my father, as a tokenwhereby he should know me. "

Then Rustem did as Sohrab bade him, and he opened his mail and saw theonyx; and when he had seen it he tore his clothes in his distress, andhe covered his head with ashes. And the tears of penitence ran from hiseyes, and he roared aloud in his sorrow. But Sohrab said:

"It is in vain, there is no remedy. Weep not, therefore, for doubtlessit was written that this should be. "

Now when the sun was set, and Rustem returned not to the camp, thenobles of Iran were afraid, and they went forth to seek him. And whenthey were gone but a little way they came upon Rakush, and when they sawthat he was alone they raised a wailing, for they deemed that of asurety Rustem was perished. And they went and told Kai Kaous thereof, and he said:

"Let Tus go forth and see if this indeed be so, and if Rustem be trulyfallen, let the drums call men unto battle that we may avenge him uponthis Turk. "

Now Sohrab, when he beheld afar off the men that were come out to seekRustem, turned to his father and said:

"I entreat of thee that thou do unto me an act of love. Let not the Shahfall upon the men of Turan, for they came not forth in enmity to him butto do my desire, and on my head alone resteth this expedition. WhereforeI desire not that they should perish when I can defend them no longer. As for me, I came like the thunder and I vanish like the wind, butperchance it is given unto us to meet again above. "

Then Rustem promised to do the desires of Sohrab. And he went before themen of Iran, and when they beheld him yet alive they set up a greatshout, but when they saw that his clothes were torn, and that he bareabout him the marks of sorrow, they asked of him what was come to pass. Then he told them how he had caused a noble son to perish. And they weregrieved for him, and joined in his wailing. Then he bade one among themto go forth into the camp of Turan, and deliver this message unto Human. And he sent word unto him, saying:

"The sword of vengeance must slumber in the scabbard. Thou art nowleader of the host; return, therefore, whence thou camest, and departacross the river ere many days be fallen. As for me, I will fight nomore, yet neither will I speak unto thee again, for thou didst hide frommy son the tokens of his father, of thine iniquity thou didst lead himinto this pit. "

Then when he had thus spoken, Rustem turned him yet again to his son. And the nobles went with him, and they beheld Sohrab, and heard hisgroans of pain. And Rustem, when he saw the agony of the boy, was besidehimself, and would have made an end of his own life, but the noblessuffered it not, and stayed his hand. Then Rustem remembered him thatKai Kaous had a balm mighty to heal. And he prayed Gudarz go before theShah, and bear unto him a message of entreaty from Rustem his servant. And he said:

"O Shah, if ever I have done that which was good in thy sight, if evermy hand have been of avail unto thee, recall now my benefits in the hourof my need, and have pity upon my dire distress. Send unto me, I praythee, of the balm that is among thy treasures, that my son may be healedby thy grace. "

And Gudarz outstripped the whirlwind in his speed to bear unto the Shahthis message. But the heart of Kai Kaous was hardened, and he rememberednot the benefits he had received from Rustem, and he recalled only theproud words that he had spoken before him. And he was afraid lest themight of Sohrab be joined to that of his father, and that together theyprove mightier than he, and turn upon him. So he shut his ear unto thecry of his Pehliva. And Gudarz bore back the answer of the Shah, and hesaid:

"The heart of Kai Kaous is flinty, and his evil nature is like to abitter gourd that ceaseth never to bear fruit. Yet I counsel thee, gobefore him thyself, and see if peradventure thou soften this rock. "

And Rustem in his grief did as Gudarz counselled, and turned to gobefore the Shah, but he was not come before him ere a messenger overtookhim, and told unto him that Sohrab was departed from the world. ThenRustem set up a wailing such as the earth hath not heard the like of, and he heaped reproaches upon himself, and he could not cease fromplaining the son that was fallen by his hands. And he cried continually:

"I that am old have killed my son. I that am strong have uprooted thismighty boy. I have torn the heart of my child, I have laid low the headof a Pehliva. "

Then he made a great fire, and flung into it his tent of many colours, and his trappings of Roum, his saddle, and his leopard-skin, his armourwell tried in battle, and all the appurtenances of his throne. And hestood by and looked on to see his pride laid in the dust. And he torehis flesh, and cried aloud:

"My heart is sick unto death. "

Then he commanded that Sohrab be swathed in rich brocades of gold worthyhis body. And when they had enfolded him, and Rustem learned that theTuranians had quitted the borders, he made ready his army to return untoZaboulistan. And the nobles marched before the bier, and their headswere covered with ashes, and their garments were torn. And the drums ofthe war-elephants were shattered, and the cymbals broken, and the tailsof the horses were shorn to the root, and all the signs of mourning wereabroad. 

Now Zal, when he saw the host returning thus in sorrow, marvelled whatwas come about; for he beheld Rustem at their head, wherefore he knewthat the wailing was not for his son. And he came before Rustem andquestioned him. And Rustem led him unto the bier and showed unto him theyouth that was like in feature and in might unto Saum the son ofNeriman, and he told him all that was come to pass, and how this was hisson, who in years was but an infant, but a hero in battle. And Rudabehtoo came out to behold the child, and she joined her lamentations untotheirs. Then they built for Sohrab a tomb like to a horse's hoof, andRustem laid him therein in a chamber of gold perfumed with ambergris. And he covered him with brocades of gold. And when it was done, thehouse of Rustem grew like to a grave, and its courts were filled withthe voice of sorrow. And no joy would enter into the heart of Rustem, and it was long before he held high his head. 

Meantime the news spread even unto Turan, and there too did all mengrieve and weep for the child of prowess that was fallen in his bloom. And the King of Samengan tore his vestments, but when his daughterlearned it she was beside herself with affliction. And Tahmineh criedafter her son, and bewailed the evil fate that had befallen him, and sheheaped black earth upon her head, and tore her hair, and wrung herhands, and rolled on the ground in her agony. And her mouth was neverweary of plaining. Then she caused the garments of Sohrab to be broughtunto her, and his throne and his steed. And she regarded them, andstroked the courser and poured tears upon his hoofs, and she cherishedthe robes as though they yet contained her boy, and she pressed the headof the palfrey unto her breast, and she kissed the helmet that Sohrabhad worn. Then with his sword she cut off the tail of his steed and setfire unto the house of Sohrab, and she gave his gold and jewels unto thepoor. And when a year had thus rolled over her bitterness, the breathdeparted from out her body, and her spirit went forth after Sohrab herson. 

CHAPTER VI

THE SEVEN SLEEPERS OF EPHESUS

One of the most picturesque myths of ancient days is that told byJacques de Voragine, in his "Legenda Aurea":

"The seven sleepers were natives of Ephesus. The Emperor Decius, whopersecuted the Christians, having come to Ephesus, ordered the erectionof temples in the city, that all might come and sacrifice before him;and he commanded that the Christians should be sought out and giventheir choice, either to worship the idols, or to die. So great was theconsternation in the city, that the friend denounced his friend, thefather his son, and the son his father. 

"Now there were in Ephesus seven Christians, Maximian, Malchus, Marcian, Dionysius, John, Serapion, and Constantine by name. These refused tosacrifice to the idols, and remained in their houses praying andfasting. They were accused before Decius, and they confessed themselvesto be Christians. However, the Emperor gave them a little time toconsider what line they would adopt. They took advantage of thisreprieve to dispense their goods among the poor, and they retired, allseven, to Mount Celion, where they determined to conceal themselves. 

"One of their number, Malchus, in the disguise of a physician, went tothe town to obtain victuals. Decius, who had been absent from Ephesusfor a little while, returned, and gave orders for the seven to besought. Malchus, having escaped from the town, fled, full of fear, tohis comrades, and told them of the Emperor's fury. They were muchalarmed; and Malchus handed them the loaves he had bought, bidding themeat, that, fortified by the food, they might have courage in the time oftrial. They ate, and then, as they sat weeping and speaking to oneanother, by the will of God they fell asleep. 

"The pagans sought everywhere, but could not find them, and Decius wasgreatly irritated at their escape. He had their parents brought beforehim, and threatened them with death if they did not reveal the place ofconcealment; but they could only answer that the seven young men haddistributed their goods to the poor, and that they were quite ignorantas to their whereabouts. 

"Decius, thinking it possible that they might be hiding in a cavern, blocked up the mouth with stones, that they might perish of hunger. "

 * * * * *

"Three hundred and sixty years passed, and in the thirtieth year of thereign of Theodosius, there broke forth a heresy denying the resurrectionof the dead. 

"Now, it happened that an Ephesian was building a stable on the side ofMount Celion, and finding a pile of stones handy, he took them for hisedifice, and thus opened the mouth of the cave. Then the seven sleepersawoke, and it was to them as if they had slept but a single night. Theybegan to ask Malchus what decision Decius had given concerning them. 

"'He is going to hunt us down, so as to force us to sacrifice to theidols, ' was his reply. 'God knows, ' replied Maximian, 'we shall never dothat. ' Then exhorting his companions, he urged Malchus to go back to thetown to buy some more bread, and at the same time to obtain freshinformation. Malchus took five coins and left the cavern. On seeing thestones he was filled with astonishment; however, he went on toward thecity; but what was his bewilderment, on approaching the gate, to seeover it a cross! He went to another gate, and there he beheld the samesacred sign; and so he observed it over each gate of the city. Hebelieved that he was suffering from the effects of a dream. Then heentered Ephesus, rubbing his eyes, and he walked to a baker's shop. Heheard people using our Lord's name, and he was the more perplexed. 'Yesterday, no one dared pronounce the name of Jesus, and now it is onevery one's lips. Wonderful! I can hardly believe myself to be inEphesus. ' He asked a passer-by the name of the city, and on being toldthat it was Ephesus, he was thunderstruck. Now he entered a baker'sshop, and laid down his money. The baker, examining the coin, inquiredwhether he had found a treasure, and began to whisper to some others inthe shop. The youth, thinking that he was discovered, and that they wereabout to conduct him to the emperor, implored them to let him alone, offering to leave loaves and money if he might only be suffered toescape. But the shop-men seizing him, said, 'Whoever you are, you havefound a treasure; show us where it is, that we may share it with you, and then we will hide you. ' Malchus was too frightened to answer. Sothey put a rope round his neck, and drew him through the streets intothe marketplace. The news soon spread that the young man had discovereda great treasure, and there was presently a vast crowd about him. Hestoutly protested his innocence. No one recognised him, and his eyes, ranging over the faces which surrounded him, could not see one which hehad known, or which was in the slightest degree familiar to him. 

"St. Martin, the bishop, and Antipater, the governor, having heard ofthe excitement, ordered the young man to be brought before them, alongwith the bakers. 

"The bishop and the governor asked him where he had found the treasure, and he replied that he had found none, but that the few coins were fromhis own purse. He was next asked whence he came. He replied that he wasa native of Ephesus, 'if this be Ephesus. '

"'Send for your relations--your parents, if they live here, ' ordered thegovernor. 

"'They live here certainly, ' replied the youth; and he mentioned theirnames. No such names were known in the town. Then the governorexclaimed, 'How dare you say that this money belonged to your parentswhen it dates back three hundred and seventy-seven years, and is as oldas the beginning of the reign of Decius, and it is utterly unlike ourmodern coinage? Do you think to impose on the old men and sages ofEphesus? Believe me, I shall make you suffer the severities of the lawtill you show where you made the discovery. '

"'I implore you, ' cried Malchus, 'in the name of God, answer me a fewquestions, and then I will answer yours. Where is the Emperor Deciusgone to?'

"The bishop answered, 'My son, there is no emperor of that name; he whowas thus called died long ago. '

"Malchus replied, 'All I hear perplexes me more and more. Follow me, andI will show you my comrades, fled with me into a cave of Mount Celion, only yesterday, to escape the cruelty of Decius. I will lead you tothem. '

"The bishop turned to the governor. 'The hand of God is here, ' he said. Then they followed, and a great crowd after them. And Malchus enteredfirst into the cavern to his companions, and the bishop after him. Andthere they saw the martyrs seated in the cave, with their faces freshand blooming as roses; so all fell down and glorified God. The bishopand the governor sent notice to Theodosius, and he hurried to Ephesus. All the inhabitants met him and conducted him to the cavern. As soon asthe saints beheld the Emperor, their faces shone like the sun, and theEmperor gave thanks unto God, and embraced them, and said, 'I see you, as though I saw the Saviour restoring Lazarus. ' Maximian replied, 'Believe us! for the faith's sake, God has resuscitated us before thegreat resurrection day, in order that you may believe firmly in theresurrection of the dead. For as the child is in its mother's wombliving and not suffering, so have we lived without suffering, fastasleep. ' And having thus spoken, they bowed their heads, and their soulsreturned to their Maker. The Emperor, rising, bent over them andembraced them weeping. He gave them orders for golden reliquaries to bemade, but that night they appeared to him in a dream, and said thathitherto they had slept in the earth, and that in the earth they desiredto sleep on till God should raise them again. "

CHAPTER VII

GUY OF WARWICK

Of all the nobles of Britain none was so strong as Rohand, Earl ofWarwick, Rockingham, and Oxford. He made just laws, and made them to beobeyed; nor king nor baron in the land could buy his favour with finewords or gold, or shield the wrong-doer from his punishment. Passingfair was Felice, his daughter, like some stately marble shaft of perfectmould; haughty was she as the great gerfalcon which spurns the earth andtowers up into the noon to look the burning sun in the face. Wisemasters, hoar with learning, came out from Toulouse to teach her theseven arts and sciences, until there was not her like for wisdomanywhere. 

Earl Rohand had a favourite page, named Guy, son of his just and uprightsteward, Segard of Wallingford; a brave and fearless youth, of strongand well-knit frame, whom Heraud of Ardenne, his tutor, taught betimesto just with lance and sword, and how to hunt with hawk and hound bywood and river side. 

It was the feast of Pentecost, when by old custom every maiden chose herlove and every knight his leman. Guy, clad in a new silken dress, beingmade cup-bearer at the banquet table, saw for the first time thebeautiful Felice, as, kneeling, he offered the golden ewer and basin anddemask napkin to wash her finger-tips before the banquet. Thenceforwardhe became so love-stricken with her beauty that he heard not the musicof the glee-men, saw neither games nor tourneys, but dured in a dream, like one crazed, all through the fourteen days festival. Knights andfair dames praised his handsome figure and well grown sinewy limbs; heheeded not--but once Felice gave him a courteous word as he offered herthe wine-cup; he blushed and stammered and spilled the wine, and wasrebuked for awkwardness. 

The feast being over, Guy went away to his chamber, and there fell intoa great love-sickness. Hopeless it seemed for a vassal to love one sofar above him as his sovereign's daughter; so he gave himself up todespair, and his disease grew so sore that the most skilful leeches ofEarl Rohand's court were unable to cure his complaint. In vain they lethim of blood or gave him salve or potion. "There is no medicine of anyavail, " the leeches said. Guy murmured, "Felice: if one might find andbring Felice to me, I yet might live. " "Felice?" the leeches said amongthemselves, and shook their heads, "It is not in the herbal. Felice?Felix? No, there is no plant of that name. "

"No herb is Felice, " sighing answered Guy, "but a flower--the fairestflower that grows. "

"He is light-headed, " they said. "The flower Felice? He seeks perchancethe flower of happiness, growing in the garden of the blessed, away inParadise. He is surely near his end. "

"It is truly Paradise where Felice is, " Guy answered, "You hear? You see, " the leeches whispered one to another. "Come, let usgo; for we can be of no more good. "

Night came, and being left alone Guy thought to rise up from his bed anddrag himself into the presence of his mistress, there to die at herfeet. So weak was he become, he scarce could stand, but fainted manytimes upon the way. 

Now Felice had heard many whisperings how Guy was dying for love of her, since her handmaidens had compassion on the youth, and sought to turnher heart toward him; but Felice was in no mind to have a page for alover. Howbeit on this very night she had a dream, wherein beingstraitly enjoined to entreat the youth with kindness as the only way tosave a life which would hereafter be of great service to the world, shearose and came to a bower in the garden where Guy lay swooning on thefloor. Felice would not stoop to help him, but her maids having restoredhim to his senses, Guy fell at her feet and poured out all his lovebefore her. Never a word answered Felice, but stood calmly regarding himwith haughty coldness. Then said one of her maids, "O lady! were I therichest king's daughter in the land, I could not turn away from love sostrong and true. " Felice rebuked her, saying, "Could not? Silly child, see that your soft heart do not prove your shame. " So with a tinglingcheek the maid withdrew abashed. Then said Felice to Guy, "Why kneelthere weeping like a girl? Get up, and show if there is the making of aman in you. Hear what I have to say. The swan mates not with theswallow, and I will never wed beneath me. Prove that your love is notpresumption. Show yourself my peer. For I could love a brave and valiantknight before whose spear men bowed as to a king, nor would I ask hisparentage, prouder far to know that my children took their noblenessfrom a self-made nobleman. But a weeping, love-sick page! No! Go, fightand battle--show me something that you do that I can love. Meantime Ilook for such a lover, and I care not if his name be Guy the page. "

Then Guy took heart and said, "Lady, I ask no better boon than to haveyou for witness of what love for you can do. "

Felice answered, "Deeds, not words. Be strong and valiant. I will watchand I will wait. "

Then Guy took leave of his mistress and in the course of a few daysregained his health, to the surprise of all the court, but moreespecially of the leeches who had given him over for dead, and coming toEarl Rohand, entreated him to make him a knight. To this Earl Rohandhaving agreed, Guy was knighted at the next feast of Holy Trinity with adubbing worthy a king's son; and they brought him rich armour, and agood sword and spear and shield, and a noble steed with costlytrappings, together with rich silken cloaks and mantles fur-trimmed, andof great price. Then bidding farewell to Segard his father, Sir Guy leftWarwick with Heraud his tutor, and Sir Thorold and Sir Urry for company, and having reached the nearest seaport, set sail for Normandy in searchof adventures wherein to prove his valour. 

They came to Rouen, and whilst they tarried at an inn a tournament wasproclaimed in honour of the fair Blancheflor, daughter to Regnier, Emperor of Germany, and the prize was the hand of the Princess, a whitehorse, two white hounds, and a white falcon. So Sir Guy and hiscompanions rode into the lists, where was a great company of provenknights and champions. Three days they tourneyed, but none couldwithstand Sir Guy's strong arm. He overthrew Otho Duke of Pavia, SirGarie the Emperor's son, Regnier Duke of Sessoyne, the Duke of Lowayne, and many more, till not a man was left who dared encounter him; andbeing master of the field, he was adjudged the prize. The horse andhounds and falcon he sent by two messengers to Felice in England astrophies of his valour. Then he knelt before the beautiful PrincessBlancheflor and said, "Lady, I battle in honour of my mistress, thepeerless Felice, and am her servant, " whereat the Emperor and hisdaughter, admiring his constancy, loaded him with rich presents andallowed him to depart. 

Sir Guy then travelled through Spain, Lombardy, and Almayne, into farlands; and wheresoever a tournament was held, there he went and justed, coming out victor from them all; till the fame of his exploits spreadover Christendom. So a year passed, and he returned to Englandunconquered, and renowned as the most valiant knight of his time. Awhile he sojourned in London with King Athelstan, who rejoiced to do himhonour; then he came to Warwick, where he received from Earl Rohand aprincely welcome. Then Sir Guy hastened to Felice. 

"Fair mistress, " said he, "have I now won your love? You have heard mydeeds, how I have travelled all through Christendom, and have yet foundno man stand against my spear. I have been faithful in my love, Felice, as well as strong in fight. I might have wedded with the best. King'sdaughters and princesses were prizes in the tournaments; but I had nomind for any prize but thee. Say, is it mine, sweet mistress?"

Then Felice kissed her knight and answered, "Right nobly have you won mylove and worship, brave Sir Guy. You are more than my peer; you arebecome my sovereign; and my love pays willing homage to its lord. Butfor this same cause I will not wed you yet. I will not have men point atme and say, 'There is a woman who for selfish love's sake, wedded theknight of most renown in Christendom ere yet he did his bravestdeeds-drew him from his level to her own-made him lay by his sword andspear for the slothful pleasures of a wedded life, and dwarfed a braveman down to a soft gentleman. ' Nay, dear one, I can wait, and veryproudly, knowing myself your chiefest prize. But seek not to possess theprize too soon, lest your strivings for renown, being aimless, shouldwax feeble. It is because I love you that I hold your fame far dearerthan my love. Go rather forth again, travel through heathen lands, defend the weak against the strong; go, battle for the right, showyourself the matchless knight you are; and God and my love go withthee. "

Then Sir Guy got him ready for his new quest. Earl Rohand tried topersuade him to remain at home, as likewise did his father Segard; andhis mother, weeping, prayed him stay. She said, "Another year it may notfare so well with thee, my son. Leave well alone. Felice is cold andproud and cares not for thee, else she would not risk thy life again. What is it to her? If thou wert slain she would get another lover; wehave no more sons. "

Yet would not Sir Guy be turned from his purpose, but embarked with hiscompanions, Sir Heraud, Sir Thorold, and Sir Urry, for Flanders. Thencehe rode through Spain, Germany, and Lombardy, and bore away the prize atevery tournament. But coming into Italy, he got a bad wound jousting atBeneventum, which greatly weakened him. 

Duke Otho of Pavia, whom Sir Guy overthrew in his first tournament atRouen, thought now to be avenged on him. So he set a chosen knight, EarlLombard, with fifteen other knights to lie in ambush in a wood and slaySir Guy; and as Sir Guy, with his three companions, came ambling slowlythrough the wood, he smarting and well-nigh faint with his wound, themen in ambush broke out from their concealment and called on him toyield. The danger made him forget his pain, and straightway he dressedhis shield and spurred among them. 

Sir Heraud, Sir Thorold, and Sir Urry killed the three first knightsthey rode against. Then Earl Lombard slew Sir Urry; and at the same timeHugo, nephew to Duke Otho, laid Sir Thorold dead at his horse's feet. Then only Sir Guy and Sir Heraud being left to fight, Sir Guy attackedEarl Lombard and smote him to the heart, whilst Sir Heraud chased Hugo, fleeing like a hound, and drove his spear throughout his body. Thus wereSir Urry and Sir Thorold avenged. But one of the felon knights, calledSir Gunter, smote Sir Heraud a mighty stroke when he was off his guard, and hewed his shield and coat of mail in pieces, and Sir Heraud fell tothe earth covered with blood and lay as dead. 

Thereupon Sir Guy's anger waxed furious at his master's death; and hespurred his horse so that fire rose from under its feet, and with oneblow of his sword cleft Sir Gunter from his helmet to the pummel of hissaddle. As for the other knights he slew them all except Sir Guichard, who fled on his swift steed to Pavia, and got back to Duke Otho. 

Heavily Sir Guy grieved for the loss of his three friends, but most ofall for his dear master Sir Heraud. He sought about the wood until hefound a hermit. To him he gave a good steed, charging him to bury thebodies of Sir Urry and Sir Thorold. From Sir Heraud's body he would notpart. Lifting the old knight to his arms, he laid him across his horse, and led the steed by the bridle-rein till they came to an abbey, wherehe left the body with the abbot, promising rich presents in return forgiving it sumptuous burial with masses and chants. But Sir Guy departedand hid himself in a hermit's cave away from the malice of Duke Otho, until his wound should be healed. 

Now there was in the abbey whither Heraud's body was taken, a monk wellskilled in leech-craft, who knew the virtues of all manner of grassesand herbs. And this monk, finding by his craft that life still flickeredin the body, nursed and tended it; and after a long while Sir Heraud waswell enough to travel. Disguised as a palmer he came into Burgundy, andthere, to his great joy, found Sir Guy, who had come thither meaning totake his way back to England. But they lingered still, till Heraudshould grow stronger, and so it fell out that they came to St. Omers. There they heard how the Emperor Regnier had come up against Segwin, Duke of Lavayne, laid waste his land, and besieged him in his strongcity Seysone, because he had slain Sadoc, the Emperor's cousin, in atournament. But when Sir Guy learned that Sadoc had first provoked DukeSegwin, and brought his death upon himself, he determined to help Segwinagainst his sovereign the Emperor Regnier. He therefore gathered fiftyknights together with Heraud, and coming secretly at night to the cityof Seysone, was let in at a postern gate without the enemy being aware. In the morning after mass they made a sally against their foes, whichnumbered thirty thousand strong, and routed them, taking many nobleprisoners. Three times the Emperor came against the Greeks, each timewith a new army larger than before. Twice did Sir Guy vanquish the host, and drive them from the walls. The third time he took Sir Gaire, theEmperor's son, prisoner, and carried him into the city. Then the EmperorRegnier determined, since he could not take the place by assault, tobeleaguer it, and starve the town into surrender. And it was so that, while his army was set down before the walls, the Emperor hunted alonein a wood hard by, and Sir Guy, meeting him there, gathered a branch ofolive tree, and came bending to the Emperor, saying, "God save you, gentle sire. Duke Segwin sendeth me to make his peace with you. He willyield you all his lands and castles in burg and city, and hold them ofyou henceforth in vassalage, but he now would have your presence in thecity to a feast. " So the Emperor was forced to go with him into the cityas a prisoner, albeit he was served with the humility due to a sovereignboth by Sir Guy and Duke Segwin's knights. Sir Gaire and the othercaptive nobles came also and prayed for peace with Duke Segwin, for theyhad been so well treated that they felt nothing but the truestfriendship for their captor. So it befell when the Emperor found himselffeasting in the enemy's castle, surrounded by the flower of his ownknights and nobles, and Duke Segwin and his band serving them humbly attable as though they had been servants in place of masters, he wastouched by their generosity, and willingly agreed to a free and friendlypeace. And this was celebrated by the Emperor giving Duke Segwin hisniece to wife, whilst the Duke of Saxony wedded Duke Segwin's sisteramid great rejoicings. 

Now after this, learning that Ernis, Emperor of Greece, was besieged inConstantinople his capital by the Saracens, Sir Guy levied an army of athousand knights and went to his assistance. Well pleased was Ernis atso timely a succor, and he promised to reward Sir Guy by making him heirto the throne and giving him the hand of his only daughter the beautifulLoret. Then Sir Guy led the army forth from the city against the Soudanand his host, and defeated them so badly that for some days they wereunable to rally their men for another encounter. 

In the meantime, one of Sir Guy's knights named Sir Morgadour fell inlove with the Princess Loret, and being envious of Sir Guy'sachievements as well as jealous of such a rival, he sought how toembroil him with the Emperor and compass his disgrace. Wherefore one daywhen the Emperor Ernis was gone a-rivering with his hawks, Sir Morgadourchallenged Sir Guy to play a game of chess in the Princess Loret'schamber. They played there, Sir Guy not thinking of treachery. Butby-and-by the Princess entered, and Sir Morgadour after greeting hertook his leave quickly and came to the Emperor Ernis, telling him howSir Guy was alone in the chamber with his daughter. Ernis, however, paidlittle heed to the tale, for he said: "Well, and what of it? Loret ishis promised bride, and Sir Guy is a good true knight. Away with yourtales!" But Sir Morgadour was not to be baffled, so he went to Sir Guyand said: "Behold how little trust is to be placed in a king! Here isthe Emperor Ernis mad wroth to hear you were alone with the PrincessLoret, and swears he will have your life. " Then Sir Guy in great angersummoned his knights, and was going over to the Saracens, when, on hisway, he met the Emperor, who told him of the malice of Sir Morgadour andall was made plain. 

But now the Saracens coming anew against the city, Sir Guy went forth tomeet them with many engines upon wheels which threw great stonesquarried from a hill. Sir Guy and his army again defeated the Saracens, insomuch that a space of fifteen acres was covered so thick with deadthat a man might not walk between, whilst the pile of slain around SirGuy reached breast high. So the Soudan and his host withdrew to theircamps. 

Then Sir Morgadour bethought him of another wile. The Soudan had swornto kill every Christian found in his camp, without regard to flag oftruce or ambassage. So Sir Morgadour persuaded Ernis to send Sir Guy tothe Soudan saying, that, since the war seemed likely to come to nospeedy issue, it should be settled by single combat between twochampions chosen from the Christian and the Saracen hosts. The counselseemed good to Ernis, but yet he liked not to risk his son-in-law'slife; wherefore he called his Parliament together and asked for somebold knight to go and bear this message. When all the others held theirpeace, Sir Guy demanded to be sent upon the business, neither could theprayers and entreaties of Ernis cause him to forego the enterprise. Heclad himself in iron hose and a trusty hauberk, set a helm of steel, gold-circled, on his head, and having girt his sword about him, leapt onhis steed without so much as touching stirrup, and rode up to theSoudan's pavilion. He well knew it from the rest, since on the topthereof flashed a great carbuncle stone. 

There were feasting the Soudan, ten kings, and many barons, when Sir Guywalked into the pavilion and delivered his message with great roughnessof speech. "Seize him and slay him!" cried the Soudan. But Sir Guy cuthis way through his assailants and rushing on the Soudan cut off hishead; and while he stooped to pick up the trophy with his left hand, with his right he slew six Saracens, then fought his passage past themall to the tent door, and leapt upon his horse. But the whole Saracenhost being roused he never would have got back for all his bravery, butthat Heraud within the city saw in a dream the danger he was in, andassembling the Greek army and Sir Guy's knights, came to his rescue andput the Saracens to flight. Then after the battle, Sir Guy came intriumph to Constantinople and laid the Soudan's head at the feet of theEmperor Ernis. 

Ernis now, being at peace from his enemies, would take Sir Guy throughhis realms. On their way they saw a dragon fighting a lion, and the lionhaving much the worst of the combat, Sir Guy must needs go and fight thedragon. After a hard battle he laid the monster dead at his feet, andthe lion came and licked the hands of his deliverer, and would in nowise depart from his side. 

Soon afterward the Emperor Ernis gathered a great company of princes, dukes, earls, barons, bishops, abbots, and priors to the wedding feast, and in presence of them all he gave Sir Guy to be ruler over half thekingdom, and led forth the Princess Loret to be his bride. 

But when Sir Guy saw the wedding-ring, his old love came to his mind, and he bethought him of Felice. "Alas!" he cried, "Felice the bright andbeautiful, my heart misgives me of forgetting thee. None other maidshall ever have my love. " Then he fell into a swoon and when he came tohimself he pleaded sudden sickness. So the marriage was put off, to thegreat distress of Ernis and his daughter Loret, and Sir Guy gat him toan Inn. Heraud tended him there, and learned how it was for the sake ofFelice that Guy renounced so fair a bride, dowered with so rich akingdom. But after a fortnight, when he could no longer feign illnessbecause of the watchfullness of the Emperor and the Princess after hishealth, he was forced to return to court, and delay his marriage fromday to day by one excuse and another, until at length fortune deliveredhim from the strait. The lion which Sir Guy had tamed was used to roamabout the palace, and grew so gentle that none feared him and nonesought him harm. But Sir Morgadour, being sore vexed to think that allhis plans against Sir Guy had failed, determined to wreak his spite uponthe lion. He therefore watched until he found the lion asleep within anarbour, and then wounded him to death with his sword. The faithful beastdragged himself so far as Sir Guy's chamber, licked his master's hands, and fell dead at his feet. But a little maid which had espied SirMorgadour told Sir Guy who had slain his lion. Then Sir Guy went forthin quest of Sir Morgadour, and fought with him and slew him. He hadforgiven the wrongs against himself, since he outwitted them; but he wasfain to avenge his faithful favourite. Now Sir Morgadour was steward tothe German Emperor Regnier. So Sir Guy showed Ernis that if he remainedlonger at his court, Regnier would surely make war on Greece to avengehis steward's death. Wherefore with this excuse he took his departureand set sail with Heraud in the first ship he could find. They landed inGermany, and visited the Emperor Regnier without telling anything abouthis steward's death. Then they came to Lorraine. 

As Sir Guy took his way alone through a forest, having sent his servantson to prepare a place for him at an inn, he heard the groaning of a manin pain, and turning his horse that way, found a knight sore wounded, and like to die. This knight was named Sir Thierry, and served the Dukeof Lorraine. He told how he was riding through the wood with his lady, Osile, when fifteen armed men beset him, and forcibly carried off thelady to take her to Duke Otho of Pavia, his rival Then said Sir Guy, "Ialso have a score to settle with Otho, the felon duke. " Then he took SirThierry's arms and armour, and went in pursuit of the ravishers whom hesoon overtook, and having slain every one, he set the lady on his steedand returned to the place where he had left the wounded knight. But nowSir Thierry was gone; for four knights of Duke Otho's band had come andcarried him off. So Sir Guy set down the lady, and started to find thefour knights. Having fought and vanquished them, he set Sir Thierry onhis horse and returned. But now Osile was gone. He searched for manyhours to find her, but in vain. So as nightfall drew on he took SirThierry to the inn. There by good fortune they found the lady, Sir Guy'sservants having met her in the wood and brought her with them to awaithis coming. A leech soon came and dressed Sir Thierry's wounds, and bythe careful tending of Osile and Sir Guy, he got well Then Sir Guy andSir Thierry swore brotherhood in arms. 

Soon there came a messenger, saying that Duke Otho, hotly wroth atlosing the fair Osile, had gone to lay waste the lands of Aubry, SirThierry's father; the Duke of Lorraine was likewise helping him. Thereupon Sir Guy equipped five hundred knights and came with SirThierry to the city of Gurmoise where Aubry dwelt. It was a wellramparted city, and after being beaten in two battles with Sir Guy, DukeOtho found, despite the larger numbers of his host, that he could notstand against the courage of the little army and the valour of itsleader. Thinking therefore to gain Osile by treachery, he sent anarchbishop to Aubry, offering peace and pledging himself to confirm themarriage of Sir Thierry and Osile, provided only that the lovers wouldgo and kneel in homage to their sovereign Duke of Lorraine. Thereon SirThierry and his bride, together with Sir Guy and Sir Heraud, set outunarmed, and after wending a day's journey out of Gurmoise, they met theDuke of Lorraine, who embraced and kissed them in token of peace. ButOtho coming forward as if to do the like, made a sign to a band of menwhom he had in waiting to seize them. These quickly surrounded SirHeraud and Sir Thierry and carried them off; but Sir Guy with only hisfists slew many of his assailants, and broke away to where a countrymanstood with a staff in his hand. Snatching this for a weapon, Sir Guybeat down the quickest of his pursuers, and made his escape. Duke Othocast Sir Thierry into a deep dungeon in Pavia, and meanwhile gave Osilea respite of forty days wherein to consent to be his bride. But the Dukeof Lorraine carried off Sir Heraud. 

Weary and hungered, and vexed at the loss of his friends, Sir Guy cameto a castle where he sought harbour for the night. Sir Amys of theMountain, who dwelt there, welcomed him with a good will, and hearinghis adventures, offered to raise an army of fifteen hundred men to helphim against Duke Otho. But to this Sir Guy said nay, because it wouldtake too long. So, after a day or two, having hit upon a plan, hedisguised, himself by staining his face and darkening his hair and beardand eyebrows; and setting out alone, came to Duke Otho with a present ofa war-horse of great price, and said, "You have in your keeping adastard knight by name Sir Thierry, who has done me much despite, and Iwould fain be avenged upon him. " Then Duke Otho, falling into the trap, appointed him jailor of Sir Thierry. 

The dungeon wherein Sir Thierry was prisoned was a pit of forty fathomsdeep, and very soon Sir Guy spake from the pit's mouth bidding him be ofgood cheer, for he would certainly deliver him. But a false Lombardoverheard these words, and thereby knowing that it was Sir Guy, ran offstraightway to tell Duke Otho. Sir Guy followed quickly and sought tobribe the man with money to hold his peace, but without avail, for hewould go into the palace where the Duke was, and opened his mouth totell the tale. Then with one blow Sir Guy slew him at Duke Otho's feet. But Otho, very wroth, would have killed Sir Guy then and there, onlythat he averred that this was a certain traitor whom he found carryingfood to the prisoner. Thus having appeased the Duke's anger, he gat awaysecretly to Osile, and bade her change her manner to Duke Otho, and makeas though she was willing to have his love. The night before the dayfixed for the wedding, Sir Guy let down a rope to Thierry in his pit, and having drawn him up, the two made all speed to the castle of SirAmys. There, getting equipped with arms and armour, they leaped to horseon the morrow, and riding back to Pavia, met the wedding procession. Rushing into the midst Sir Guy slew Otho and Sir Thierry carried offOsile, whereupon they returned to Sir Amys with light hearts. And whenthe Duke of Lorraine had tidings of what had befallen Otho he had greatfear of Sir Guy, and sent Sir Heraud back with costly gifts to make hispeace. So Sir Thierry and Osile were wed, and a sumptuous banquet washeld in their honour, with game, and hunting, and hawking, and justing, and singing of glee-men, more than can be told. 

Now as Sir Guy went a-hunting one day, he rode away from his party topursue a boar of great size. And this boar, being very nimble and fleetof foot, led him a long chase till he came into Flanders. And when hekilled the boar he blew upon his horn the prize. Florentine, King ofFlanders, hearing it in his palace, said, "Who is this that slays thetall game on my lands?" And he bade his son go forth and bring him in. The young prince coming with a haughty message to Sir Guy, the knightstruck him with his hunting-horn, meaning no more than chastisement forhis discourtesy. But by misadventure the prince fell dead at his feet. Thinking no more of the mishap, and knowing not who it was whom he hadslain, Sir Guy rode on to the palace, and was received with good cheerat the King's table. But presently the prince's body being brought in, and Guy owning that he had done this deed, King Florentine took up anaxe, and aimed a mighty blow at the slayer of his son. This Sir Guyquickly avoided, and when all arose to seize him, he smote them down oneither hand, and fought his way through the hall till he reached hissteed, whereon lightly leaping he hasted back to Sir Thierry. 

Then after a short while he took leave of Sir Thierry, and came with SirHeraud to England, to the court of King Athelstan at York. Scarce had hearrived there when tidings came that a great black and winged dragon wasravaging Northumberland, and had destroyed whole troops of men whichwent against him. Sir Guy at once armed himself in his best provenarmour, and rode off in quest of the monster. He battled with the dragonfrom prime till undern, and on from undern until evensong, but for allthe dragon was so strong and his hide so flinty Sir Guy overcame him, and thrust his sword down the dragon's throat, and having cut off hishead brought it to King Athelstan. Then while all England rang with thisgreat exploit, he took his journey to Wallingford to see his parents. But they were dead; so after grieving many days for them he gave hisinheritance to Sir Heraud, and hasted to Felice at Warwick. 

Proudly she welcomed her true knight, and listened to the story of hisdeeds. Then laughingly Sir Guy asked, should he go another quest beforethey two were wed?

"Nay, dear one, " said Felice, "my heart misgives me I was wrong to perilyour life so long for fame's sake and my pride in you. A greatlove-longing I have borne to have you home beside me. But now you shallgo no more forth. My pride it was that made me wish you great andfamous, and for that I bade you go; but now, beside your greatness andyour fame, I am become so little and so unworthy that I grow jealouslest you seek a worthier mate. We will not part again, dear lord SirGuy. " Then he kissed her tenderly and said, "Felice, whatever of fameand renown I may have gained, I owe it all to you. It was won for you, and but for you it had not been--and so I lay it at your feet in lovinghomage, owning that I hold it all of you. "

So they were wed amid the joy of all the town of Warwick; for thespousings were of right royal sort, and Earl Rohand held a greattournament, and kept open court to all Warwick, Rockingham, and Oxfordfor fourteen days. 

Forty days they had been wed, when it happened that as Sir Guy lay by awindow of his tower, looking out upon the landscape, he fell to musingon his life. He thought, "How many men I have slain, how many battles Ihave fought, how many lands I have taken and destroyed! All for awoman's love; and not one single deed done for my God!" Then he thought, "I will go a pilgrimage for the sake of the Holy Cross. " And when Feliceknew what he meditated she wept, and with many bitter tears besought himnot to leave her. But he sighed and said, "Not yet one single deed forGod above!" and held fast to his intent. So he clad himself in palmer'sdress, and having taken a gold ring from his wife's hand and placed uponhis own, he set out without any companion for the Holy Land. 

But Felice fell into a great wan-hope at his departure, and grievedcontinually, neither would be comforted; for she said, "I have broughtthis on myself by sending him such perilous journeys heretofore, and nowI cannot bear to part from him. " But that she bore his child she wouldhave taken her own life for very trouble of heart; only for that child'ssake she was fain to live and mature it when it should be born. 

Now after Sir Guy had made his toilsome pilgrimage to Jerusalem, andshrived him of his life, and done his prayers and penances about theholy places, he took his way to Antioch. 

Beside a well he met a certain Earl Jonas, whose fifteen sons were heldin prison till he should find a champion to deliver the Saracen SirTriamour from the hands of a fierce and terrible Ethiopian giant namedAmiraunt. So Sir Guy took arms again, and rode into the lists, andfought with Amiraunt and slew him; thus both Sir Triamour was deliveredfrom his enemy, and the sons of Earl Jonas were restored to him. Afterthis, Sir Guy travelled many years as a pilgrim of the Cross, till inhis wanderings, chancing to come into Almayne, he there fell in with SirThierry, who, dressed in palmer's weeds, made sorry complaint. SirThierry told how a knight named Barnard inherited Pavia in the room ofhis cousin Duke Otho; and how Barnard, being at enmity with him becauseof the slaying of Duke Otho, had never rested from doing him mischiefwith his sovereign, until the Duke of Lorraine dispossessed him from hislands and brought him into poverty. Howbeit Sir Guy would not revealhimself, and Sir Thierry being faint and weary, laid his head upon SirGuy's knees, and so great a heaviness came over him that he fell asleep. As he slept, Sir Guy, watching him, saw a small white weasel creep outfrom the mouth of the sleeping man, and run to a little rivulet that washard by, going to and fro beside the bank, not seeming wistful how toget across. Then Sir Guy rose gently and laid his sword athwart thestream from bank to bank; so the weasel passed over the sword, as it hadbeen a bridge, and having made his way to a hole at the foot of the hillon the other side, went in thereat. But presently the weasel came out, and crossing the stream in the same manner as before jumped into thesleeper's mouth again. Then Sir Thierry woke and told his dream. "Idreamed, " said he, "that I came beside a mighty torrent which I knew nothow to pass, until I found a bridge of shining steel, over which I went, and came into a cavern underground, and therein I found a palace full ofgold and jewels. I pray thee, brother palmer, read to me this dream. "

Then Sir Guy said that without doubt it betokened a fair treasure hid bya waterside, and with that showed him the hole under the hill whereat hehad seen the weasel go in. There they digged and found the treasure, which was very great; yet Sir Guy would have no share therein, but tookleave of Sir Thierry without ever making himself known, and came toLorraine the duke that was Sir Thierry's sovereign. 

Seeing a palmer the Duke of Lorraine asked tidings of his travels. "Sir, " said the palmer, "men in all lands speak of Sir Thierry, and muchdo blame you for taking away his heritage at the bidding of so false aknight as Sir Barnard. And palmer though I be, I yet will prove SirBarnard recreant and traitor upon his body, and thereto I cast down myglove. " Then Sir Barnard took up the glove, and Sir Guy being furnishedwith armour and a sword and shield and spear, they did battle together. And in the end Sir Guy overcame and slew Sir Barnard, and demanded ofthe duke to restore Sir Thierry to his possessions, which being granted, he went in search of the banished man, and having found him in a churchmaking his prayer, brought him straightway to the duke, and thus theywere made friends. And when Sir Thierry found who his deliverer was hewas exceeding glad and would willingly have divided all his inheritancewith him. But Sir Guy would receive neither fee nor reward, and after hehad abode some time with him at the court, he took his way to England. 

Now Athelstan was besieged in Winchester by Anlaf King of Denmark, andcould not come out of the city for the great host that was arrayedagainst him, whilst all the folk within the city walls were famishingfor want of food and thought of nothing but surrender. Moreover KingAnlaf had proclaimed a challenge, giving them seven days' grace whereineither to deliver up the city keys, or to find a champion who shouldfight against the great and terrible Danish giant Colbrand; and everyday for seven days' the giant came before the walls and cried for a manto fight with him. But there was found no man so hardy to do battle withColbrand. Then King Athelstan, as he walked to and fro in his city andsaw the distress of his people, was suddenly aware of a light that shoneabout him very brightly, and he heard a voice which charged him tointrust his cause to the first poor palmer he should meet. Soon after hemet a palmer in the city, and weening not that it was Sir Guy, kneeledhumbly to him, in sure faith in the heavenly voice, and asked his help. "I am an old man, " said the palmer, "with little strength except whatHeaven might give me for a people's need beset by enemies. But yet forEngland's sake and with Heaven's help I will undertake this battle. "

They then clothed him in the richest armour that the city could furnish, with a good hauberk of steel, and a helmet whose gold circle sparkledwith precious stones, and on the top whereof stood a flower wrought ofdivers colours in rare gems. Gloves of mail he wore, and greaves uponhis legs, and a shirt of ring-mail upon his body, with a quiltedgambeson beneath: sharp was the sword, and richly carved the heavy spearhe bare; his threefold shield was overlaid with gold. They led forth tohim a swift steed; but before he mounted he went down upon his knees andmeekly told his beads, praying God to succor him that day. And the twokings held a parley for an hour, Anlaf promising on his part that if hischampion fell he would go back with all his host to Denmark and nevermore make war on Britain, whilst Athelstan agreed, if his knight werevanquished, to make Anlaf King of England, and henceforth to be hisvassal and pay tribute both of gold and silver money. 

Then Colbrand stode forth to the battle. So great was he of stature thatno horse could bear him, nor indeed could any man make a cart wherein tocarry him. He was armed with black armour of so great weight that ascore of men could scarce bear up his hauberk only, and it took three tocarry his helmet. He bare a great dart within his hand, and slung aroundhis body were swords and battle-axes more than two hundred in number. 

Sir Guy rode boldly at him, but his spear shivered into pieces againstthe giant's armour. Then Colbrand threw three darts. The first twopassed wide, but the third crashed through Sir Guy's shield, and glidedbetwixt his arm and side, nor fell to ground till it had sped over agood acre of the field. Then a blow from the giant's sword just missedthe knight, but lighting on his saddle at the back of him hewed horseand saddle clean in two; so Sir Guy was brought to ground. Yet lightlysprang he to his feet, and though seemingly but a child beside themonster man, he laid on hotly with his sword upon the giant's armour, until the sword brake in his hands. Then Colbrand called on him toyield, since he had no longer a weapon wherewith to fight. "Nay, "answered Sir Guy, "but I will have one are of thine, " and with that randeftly to the giant's side and wrenched away a battle-axe wherewith hemaintained the combat. Right well Sir Guy endured while Colbrand'smighty strokes shattered his armour all about him, until his shieldbeing broke in pieces it seemed he could no longer make defence, and theDanes raised a great shout at their champion's triumph. Then Colbrandaimed a last stroke at the knight to lay him low, but Sir Guy lightlyavoiding it, the giant's sword smote into the earth a foot or more, andbefore he could withdraw it or free his hand, Sir Guy hewed off the armwith his battle-axe; and since Colbrand's weight leaned on that arm, hefell to the ground. So Sir Guy cut off his head, and triumphed over thegiant Colbrand, and the Danes withdrew to their own country. 

Then without so much as telling who he was, Sir Guy doffed his armourand put on his palmer's weeds again, and secretly withdrawing himselffrom all the feasts and games they held in honour of him in the city ofWinchester, passed out alone and took his journey toward Warwick onfoot. 

Many a year had gone since he had left his wife and home. The boy whomFelice had borne him, named Raynburn, he had never seen; nor, as itbefell, did he ever see his son. For Raynburn in his childhood had beenstolen away by Saracens and carried to a far heathen country, where KingAragus brought him up and made him first his page, then chamberlain, andas he grew to manhood, knighted him. And now he fought the battles ofKing Aragus with a strong arm like his father Guy's, neither could anyendure against his spear. But all these years Felice had passed inprayer and charity, entertaining pilgrims and tired wayfarers, andcomforting the sick and the distressed. And it was so that Sir Guy, alltravel-worn and with his pilgrim's staff in hand, came to her house andcraved an alms. She took him in and washed his feet and ministered tohim, asking oftentimes if in his travels he had seen her lord Sir Guy. But when he watched her gentleness to the poor and to the children ather gate, he feared to break in upon her holy life, and so refrainedhimself before her and would not reveal himself, but with a heavy heartcame out from the lady's door and gat him to a hermit's cell. There heabode in fasting and in penitence many weeks, till feeling his end drawnear, he took the ring from his finger and sent it by a herdsman toFelice. "Where got you this token?" cried Felice, all trembling with herwonderment and fear. "From a poor beggar-man that lives in yonder cell, "the herdsman answered. "From a beggar? Nay, but from a kingly man, " saidFelice, "for he is my husband, Guy of Warwick!" and gave the herdsman ahundred marks. Then she hasted and came to Sir Guy in his hermit's cell, and for a long space they wept in each other's arms and neither spake aword. 

Weaker and fainter waxed Sir Guy. In a little while he died, and Feliceclosed his tired eyes. Fifteen weary days she lingered sore in grief, and then God's angel came and closed her own. 

CHAPTER VIII

CHEVY CHASE

 God prosper long our noble king, Our lives and safeties all; A woeful hunting once there did In Chevy Chase befall. 

 To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Percy took the way; The child may rue that is unborn The hunting of that day. 

 The stout earl of Northumberland A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summer days to take--

 The chiefest harts in Chevy Chase To kill and bear away. These tidings to Earl Douglas came In Scotland where he lay;

 Who sent Earl Percy present word He would prevent his sport. The English earl not fearing that, Did to the woods resort. With fifteen hundred bowmen bold, All chosen men of might, Who knew full well in time of need To aim their shafts aright. 

 The gallant greyhound swiftly ran To chase the fallow deer; On Monday they began to hunt Ere daylight did appear;

 And long before high noon they had A hundred fat bucks slain; Then having dined, the drovers went To rouse the deer again. 

 The bowmen mustered on the hills, Well able to endure; Their backsides all with special care That day were guarded sure. 

 The hounds ran swiftly through the woods, The nimble deer to take, That with their cries the hills and dales An echo shrill did make. 

 Lord Percy to the quarry went To view the tender deer; Quoth he, "Earl Douglas promised once This day to meet me here. "

 "But if I thought he would not come, No longer would I stay"; With that a brave young gentleman Thus to the earl did say:

 "Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come, His men in armour bright; Full twenty hundred Scottish spears All marching in our sight;

 "All men of pleasant Teviotdale, Fast by the River Tweed. " "O cease your sports, " Earl Percy said, "And take your bows with speed;

 "And now with me, my countrymen, Your courage forth advance, For there was never champion yet, In Scotland or in France, "That ever did on horseback come, And if my hap it were, I durst encounter man for man With him to break a spear. "

 Earl Douglas on his milk white steed, Most like a baron bold, Rode foremost of his company, Whose armour shone like gold. 

 "Show me, " said he, "whose men you be, That hunt so boldly here, That, without my consent, do chase And kill my fallow deer. "

 The first man that did answer make, Was noble Percy he, Who said, "We list not to declare Nor show whose men we be:

 "Yet will we spend our dearest blood Thy chiefest harts to slay. " Then Douglas swore a solemn oath, And thus in rage did say:

 "Ere thus I will out-braved be, One of us two shall die; I know thee well, an earl thou art-- Lord Percy, so am I. 

 "But trust me, Percy, pity it were, And great offence, to kill Any of these our guiltless men, For they have done none ill. 

 "Let thou and I the battle try, And set our men aside. " "Accurst be he, " Earl Percy said, "By whom it is denied. "

 Then stept a gallant squire forth-- Witherington was his name-- Who said, "I would not have it told To Henry, our king, for shame, "That e'er my captain fought on foot, And I stood looking on. You be two earls, " quoth Witherington, "And I a squire alone;

 "I'll do the best that do I may, While I have power to stand; While I have power to wield my sword, I'll fight with heart and hand. "

 Our English archers bent their bows-- Their hearts were good and true; At the first flight of arrows sent, Full four score Scots they slew. 

 To drive the deer with hound and horn, Douglas bade on the bent, Two captains moved with mickle might, Their spears to shivers went. 

 They closed full fast on every side, No slackness there was found, But many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground. 

 O Christ! it was great grief to see How each man chose his spear, And how the blood out of their breasts Did gush like water clear. 

 At last these two stout earls did meet Like captains of great might; Like lions wode, they laid on lode; They made a cruel fight. 

 They fought until they both did sweat, With swords of tempered steel, Till blood down their cheeks like rain They trickling down did feel. 

 "O yield thee, Percy!" Douglas said, "And in faith I will thee bring Where thou shalt high advanced be By James, our Scottish king. 

 "Thy ransom I will freely give, And this report of thee, Thou art the most courageous knight That ever I did see. "

 "No, Douglas, " quoth Earl Percy then, "Thy proffer I do scorn; I will not yield to any Scot That ever yet was born. "

 With that there came an arrow keen, Out of an English bow, Which struck Earl Douglas on the breast A deep and deadly blow. 

 Who never said more words than these: "Fight on, my merry men all! For why, my life is at an end, Lord Percy sees my fall. "

 Then leaving life, Earl Percy took The dead man by the hand; Who said, "Earl Douglas, for thy life Would I had lost my land!

 "O Christ! my very heart doth bleed For sorrow for thy sake, For sure a more redoubted knight Mischance could never take. "

 A knight amongst the Scots there was Which saw Earl Douglas die, Who straight in heart did vow revenge Upon the Lord Percy. 

 Sir Hugh Montgomery was he called, Who, with a spear full bright, Well mounted on a gallant steed, Ran fiercely through the fight, And past the English archers all, Without all dread or fear, And through Earl Percy's body then He thrust his hateful spear. 

 With such a vehement force and might His body he did gore, The staff ran through the other side A large cloth-yard, and more. 

 Thus did both those nobles die, Whose courage none could stain; An English archer then perceived The noble earl was slain. 

 He had a good bow in his hand Made of a trusty tree; An arrow of a cloth-yard long To the hard head haled he. 

 Against Sir Hugh Montgomery His shaft full right he set; The gray-goose-wing that was thereon In his heart's blood was wet. 

 This fight from break of day did last Till setting of the sun, For when they rang the evening-bell The battle scarce was done. 

 With stout Earl Percy there was slain Sir John of Egerton, Sir Robert Harcliff and Sir William, Sir James, that bold baron. 

 And with Sir George and Sir James, Both knights of good account, Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slain, Whose prowess did surmount. 

 For Witherington needs must I wail As one in doleful dumps. For when his legs were smitten off, He fought upon his stumps. 

 And with Earl Douglas there was slain Sir Hugh Montgomery, And Sir Charles Morrell, that from field One foot would never flee;

 Sir Roger Heuer of Harcliff, too, His sister's son was he; Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed, But saved he could not be. 

 And the Lord Maxwell, in like case, With Douglas he did die; Of twenty hundred Scottish spears, Scarce fifty-five did fly. 

 Of fifteen hundred Englishmen Went home but fifty-three; The rest in Chevy Chase were slain, Under the greenwood tree. 

 Next day did many widows come Their husbands to bewail; They washed their wounds in brinish sears. But all would not prevail. 

 Their bodies, bathed in purple blood, They bore with them away; They kissed them dead a thousand times Ere they were clad in clay. 

 The news was brought to Edinburgh, Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave Earl Douglas suddenly Was with an arrow slain. 

 "O heavy news!" King James can say, "Scotland may witness be I have not any captain more Of such account as he. "

 Like tidings to King Henry came Within as short a space, That Percy of Northumberland Was slain at Chevy Chase. 

 "Now God be with him!" said our king, "Since it will no better be; I trust I have within my realm Five hundred as good as he. "

 "Yet shall not Scots nor Scotland say But I will vengeance take, And be revenged on them all For brave Earl Percy's sake. "

 This vow the king did well perform After on Humble-down; In one day fifty knights were slain With lords of great renown. 

 And of the rest, of small account, Did many hundreds die: Thus endeth the hunting in Chevy Chase Made by the Earl Percy. 

 God save our king, and bless this land With plenty, joy, and peace, And grant henceforth that foul debate Twixt noble men may cease!

CHAPTER IX

THE FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF LIR

Now at the time when the Tuatha de Danaan chose a king for themselvesafter the battle of Tailltin, and Lir heard the kingship was given toBodb Dearg, it did not please him, and he left the gathering withoutleave and with no word to any one; for he thought it was he himself hada right to be made king. But if he went away himself, Bodb was given thekingship none the less, for not one of the five begrudged it to him butonly Lir. And it is what they determined, to follow after Lir, and toburn down his house, and to attack himself with spear and sword, onaccount of his not giving obedience to the king they had chosen. "Wewill not do that, " said Bodb Dearg, "for that man would defend any placehe is in; and besides that, " he said, "I am none the less king over theTuatha de Danaan, although he does not submit to me. "

All went on like that for a good while, but at last a great misfortunecame on Lir, for his wife died from him after a sickness of threenights. And that came very hard on Lir, and there was heaviness on hismind after her. And there was great talk of the death of that woman inher own time. 

And the news of it was told all through Ireland, and it came to thehouse of Bodb, and the best of the Men of Dea were with him at thattime. And Bodb said: "If Lir had a mind for it, " he said, "my help andmy friendship would be good for him now, since his wife is not living tohim. For I have here with me the three young girls of the best shape, and the best appearance, and the best name in all Ireland, Aobh, Aoife, and Aihbhe, the three daughters of Oilell of Aran, my own threenurselings. " The Men of Dea said then it was a good thought he had, andthat what he said was true. 

Messages and messengers were sent then from Bodb Dearg to the place Lirwas, to say that if he had a mind to join with the Son of the Dagda andto acknowledge his lordship, he would give him a foster-child of hisfoster-children. And Lir thought well of the offer, and he set out onthe morrow with fifty chariots from Sidhe Fionna-chaidh; and he went byevery short way till he came to Bodb's dwelling-place at Loch Dearg, andthere was a welcome before him there, and all the people were merry andpleasant before him, and he and his people got good attendance thatnight. 

And the three daughters of Oilell of Aran were sitting on the one seatwith Bodb Dearg's wife, the queen of the Tuatha de Danaan, that wastheir foster-mother. And Bodb said: "You may have your choice of thethree young girls, Lir. " "I cannot say, " said Lir, "which one of them ismy choice, but whichever of them is the eldest, she is the noblest, andit is better for me to take her. " "If that is so, " said Bodb, "it isAobh is the eldest, and she will be given to you, if it is your wish. ""It is my wish, " he said. And he took Aobh for his wife that night, andhe stopped there for a fortnight, and then he brought her away to hisown house, till he would make a great wedding-feast. 

And in the course of time Aobh brought forth two children, a daughterand a son, Fionnuala and Aodh their names were. And after a while shewas brought to bed again, and this time she gave birth to two sons, andthey called them Fiachra and Conn. And she herself died at their birth. And that weighed very heavy on Lir, and only for the way his mind wasset on his four children he would have gone near to die of grief. 

The news came to Bodb Dearg's place, and all the people gave out threeloud, high cries, keening their nursling. And after they had keened herit is what Bodb Dearg said: "It is a fret to us our daughter to havedied, for her own sake and for the sake of the good man we gave her to, for we are thankful for his friendship and his faithfulness. However, "he said, "our friendship with one another will not be broken, for I willgive him for a wife her sister Aoife. "

When Lir heard that he came for the girl and married her, and broughther home to his house. And there was honour and affection with Aoife forher sister's children; and indeed no person at all could see those fourchildren without giving them the heart's love. 

And Bodb Dearg used often to be going to Lir's house for the sake ofthose children; and he used to bring them to his own place for a goodlength of time, and then he would let them go back to their own placeagain. And the Men of Dea were at that time using the Feast of Age inevery hill of the Sidhe in turn; and when they came to Lir's hill thosefour children were their joy and delight for the beauty of theirappearance; and it is where they used to sleep, in beds in sight oftheir father Lir. And he used to rise up at the break of every morning, and to lie down among his children. 

But it is what came of all this, that a fire of jealousy was kindled inAoife, and she got to have a dislike and a hatred of her sister'schildren. 

Then she let on to have a sickness, that lasted through nearly thelength of a year. And the end of that time she did a deed of jealousyand cruel treachery against the children of Lir. 

And one day she got her chariot yoked, and she took the four children init, and they went forward toward the house of Bodb Dearg; but Fionnualahad no mind to go with her, for she knew by her she had some plan fortheir death or their destruction, and she had seen in a dream that therewas treachery against them in Aoife's mind. But all the same she was notable to escape from what was before her. 

And when they were on their way Aoife said to her people: "Let you killnow, " she said, "the four children of Lir, for whose sake their fatherhas given up my love, and I will give you your own choice of a rewardout of all the good things of the world. " "We will not do that indeed, "said they; "and it is a bad deed you have thought of, and harm will cometo you out of it. "

And when they would not do as she bade them, she took out a swordherself to put an end to the children with; but she being a woman andwith no good courage, and with no great strength in her mind, she wasnot able to do it. 

They went on then west to Loch Dairbhreach, the Lake of the Oaks, andthe horses were stopped there. And Aoife bade the children of Lir to goout and bathe in the lake, and they did as she bade them. And as soon asAoife saw them out in the lake she struck them with a Druid rod, and puton them the shape of four swans, white and beautiful. And it is what shesaid: "Out with you, children of the king, your luck is taken away fromyou forever; it is sorrowful the story will be to your friends it iswith flocks of birds your cries will be heard for ever. "

And Fionnuala said: "Witch, we know now what your name is, you havestruck us down with no hope of relief; but although you put us from waveto wave, there are times when we will touch the land. We shall get helpwhen we are seen; help, and all that is best for us; even though we haveto sleep upon the lake, it is our minds will be going abroad early. "

And then the four children of Lir turned toward Aoife, and this is whatFionnuala said: "It is a bad deed you have done, Aoife, and it is a badfulfilling of friendship, you to destroy us without cause; and vengeancefor it will come upon you, and you will fall in satisfaction for it, foryour power for our destruction is not greater than the power of ourfriends to avenge it on you; and put some bounds now, " she said, "to thetime this enchantment is to stop on us. " "I will do that, " said Aoife, "and it is worse for you, you to have asked it of me. And the bounds I Iset to your time are this, till the Woman from the South and the Manfrom the North will come together. And since you ask to hear it of me, "she said, "no friends and no power that you have will be able to bringyou out of these shapes you are in through the length of your lives, until you have been three hundred years on Loch Dairbhreach, and threehundred years on Sruth na Maoile between Ireland and Alban, and threehundred years at Irrus Domnann and Inis Gluaire; and these are to beyour journeys from this out, " she said. 

But then repentance came on Aoife, and she said: "Since there is noother help for me to give you now, you may keep your own speech; and youwill be singing sweet music in the Sidhe, that would put the men of theearth to sleep, and there will be no music in the world equal to it; andyour own sense and your own nobility will stay with you, the way it willnot weigh so heavy on you to be in the shape of birds. And go away outof my sight now, children of Lir, " she said, "with your white faces, with your stammering Irish. It is a great curse on tender lads, they tobe driven out on the rough wind. Nine hundred years to be on the water, it is a long time for any one to be in pain; it is I put this on youthrough treachery, it is best for you to do as I tell you now. 

"Lir, that got victory with so many a good cast, his heart is a kernelof death in him now; the groaning of the great hero is a sickness to me, though it is I that have well earned his anger. "

And then the horses were caught for Aoife, and the chariot yoked forher, and she went on to the palace of Bodb Dearg, and there was awelcome before her from the chief people of the place. And the son ofthe Dagda asked her why she did not bring the children of Lir with her. "I will tell you that, " she said. "It is because Lir has no liking foryou, and he will not trust you with his children, from fear you mightkeep them from him altogether. "

"I wonder at that, " said Bodb Dearg, "for those children are dearer tome than my own children. " And he thought in his own mind it was deceitthe woman was doing on him, and it is what he did, he sent messengers tothe North to Sidhe Fionnachaidh. And Lir asked them what did they comefor. "On the head of your children, " said they. "Are they not gone toyou along with Aoife?" he said. "They are not, " said they; "and Aoifesaid it was yourself would not let them come. "

It is downhearted and sorrowful Lir was at that news, for he understoodwell it was Aoife had destroyed or made an end of his children. Andearly in the morning of the morrow his horses were caught, and he setout on the road to the Southwest. And when he was as far as the shore ofLoch Dairbhreach, the four children saw the horses coming toward them, and it is what Fionnuala said: "A welcome to the troop of horses I seecoming near to the lake; the people they are bringing are strong, thereis sadness on them; it is us they are following, it is for us they arelooking; let us move over to the shore, Aodh, Fiachra, and comely Conn. Those that are coming can be no others in the world but only Lir and hishousehold. "

Then Lir came to the edge of the lake, and he took notice of the swanshaving the voice of living people, and he asked them why was it they hadthat voice. 

"I will tell you that, Lir, " said Fionnuala. "We are your own fourchildren, that are after being destroyed by your wife, and by the sisterof our own mother, through the dint of her jealousy. " "Is there any wayto put you into your own shapes again?" said Lir. "There is no way, "said Fionnuala, "for all the men of the world could not help us till wehave gone through our time, and that will not be, " she said, "till theend of nine hundred years. "

When Lir and his people heard that, they gave out three great heavyshouts of grief and sorrow and crying. 

"Is there a mind with you, " said Lir, "to come to us on the land, sinceyou have not your own sense and your memory yet?" "We have not thepower, " said Fionnuala, "to live with any person at all from this time;but we have our own language, the Irish, and we have the power to singsweet music, and it is enough to satisfy the whole race of men to belistening to that music. And let you stop here to-night, " she said, "andwe will be making music for you. "

So Lir and his people stopped there listening to the music of the swans, and they slept there quietly that night. And Lir rose up early on themorning of the morrow and he made this complaint:

"It is time to go out from this place. I do not sleep though I am in mylying down. To be parted from my dear children, it is that is tormentingmy heart. 

"It is a bad net I put over you, bringing Aoife, daughter of Oilell ofAran, to the house. I would never have followed that advice if I hadknown what it would bring upon me. 

"O Fionnuala, and comely Conn, O Aodh, O Fiachra of the beautiful arms;it is not ready I am to go away from you, from the border of the harbourwhere you are. "

Then Lir went on to the palace of Bodb Dearg, and there was a welcomebefore him there; and he got a reproach from Bodb Dearg for not bringinghis children along with him. "My grief!" said Lir. "It is not I thatwould not bring my children along with me; it was Aoife there beyond, your own foster-child and the sister of their mother, that put them inthe shape of four white swans on Loch Dairbhreach, in the sight of thewhole of the men of Ireland; but they have their sense with them yet, and their reason, and their voice, and their Irish. "

Bodb Dearg gave a great start when he heard that, and he knew what Lirsaid was true, and he gave a very sharp reproach to Aoife, and he said:"This treachery will be worse for yourself in the end, Aoife, than tothe children of Lir. And what shape would you yourself think worst ofbeing in?" he said. 

"I would think worst of being a witch of the air, " she said. "It is intothat shape I will put you now. " said Bodb. And with that he struck herwith a Druid wand, and she was turned into a witch of the air there andthen, and she went away on the wind in that shape, and she is in it yet, and will be in it to the end of life and time. 

As to Bodb Dearg and the Tuatha de Danaan they came to the shore of LochDairbhreach, and they made their camp there to be listening to the musicof the swans. 

And the Sons of the Gael used to be coming no less than the Men of Deato hear them from every part of Ireland, for there never was any musicor any delight, heard in Ireland to compare with that music of theswans. And they used to be telling stories, and to be talking with themen of Ireland every day, and with their teachers and theirfellow-pupils and their friends. And every night they used to sing verysweet music of the Sidhe; and every one that heard that music wouldsleep sound and quiet whatever trouble or long sickness might be on him;for every one that heard the music of the birds, it is happy andcontented he would be after it. 

These two gatherings now of the Tuatha de Danaan and of the Sons of theGael stopped there around Loch Dairbhreach through the length of threehundred years. And it is then Fionnuala said to her brothers: "Do youknow, " she said, "we have spent all we have to spend of our time here, but this one night only. "

And there was great sorrow on the sons of Lir when they heard that, forthey thought it the same as to be living people again, to be talkingwith their friends and their companions on Loch Dairbhreach, incomparison with going on the cold, fretful sea of the Maoil in theNorth. 

And they came early on the morrow to speak with their father and withtheir foster-father, and they bade them farewell, and Fionnuala madethis complaint:

"Farewell to you, Bodb Dearg, the man with whom all knowledge is inpledge. And farewell to our father along with you, Lir of the Hill ofthe White Field. 

"The time is come, as I think, for us to part from you, O pleasantcompany; my grief it is not on a visit we are going to you. 

"From this day out, O friends of our heart, our comrades, it is on thetormented course of the Maoil we will be, without the voice of anyperson near us. 

"There hundred years there, and three hundred years in the bay of themen of Domnann, it is a pity for the four comely children of Lir, thesalt waves of the sea to be their covering by night. 

"O three brothers, with the ruddy faces gone from you, let them allleave the lake now, the great troop that loved us, it is sorrowful ourparting is. "

After that complaint they took to flight, lightly, airily, till theycame to Sruth na Maoile between Ireland and Alban. And that was a griefto the men of Ireland, and they gave out an order no swan was to bekilled from that out, whatever chance there might be of killing one, allthrough Ireland. 

It was a bad dwelling-place for the children of Lir they to be on Sruthna Maoile. When they saw the wide coast about them, they were filledwith cold and with sorrow, and they thought nothing of all they had gonethrough before, in comparison to what they were going through on thatsea. 

Now one night while they were there a great storm came on them, and itis what Fionnuala said: "My dear brothers, " she said, "it is a pity forus not to be making ready for this night, for it is certain the stormwill separate us from one another. And let us, " she said, "settle onsome place where we can meet afterward, if we are driven from oneanother in the night. "

"Let us settle, " said the others, "to meet one another at Carraig naRon, the Rock of the Seals, for we all have knowledge of it. "

And when midnight came, the wind came on them with it, and the noise ofthe waves increased, and the lightning was flashing, and a rough stormcame sweeping down; the way the children of Lir were scattered over thegreat sea, and the wideness of it set them astray, so that no one ofthem could know what way the others went. But after that storm a greatquiet came on the sea, and Fionnuala was alone on Sruth na Maoile; andwhen she took notice that her brothers were wanting she was lamentingafter them greatly, and she made this complaint:

"It is a pity for me to be alive in the state I am; it is frozen to mysides my wings are; it is little that the wind has not broken my heartin my body, with the loss of Aodh. 

"To be three hundred years on Loch Dairbhreach without going into my ownshape, it is worse to me the time I am on Sruth na Maoile. 

"The three I loved, Och! the three I loved, that slept under the shelterof my feathers; till the dead come back to the living I will see them nomore for ever. 

"It is a pity I to stay after Fiachra, and after Aodh, and after comelyConn, and with no account of them; my grief I to be here to face everyhardship this night. "

She stopped all night there upon the Rock of the Seals until the risingof the sun, looking out over the sea on every side till at last she sawConn coming to her, his feathers wet through and his head hanging, andher heart gave him a great welcome; and then Fiachra came wet andperished and worn out, and he could not say a word they could understandwith the dint of the cold and the hardship he had gone through. AndFionnuala put him under her wings, and she said: "We would be well offnow if Aodh would but come to us. "

It was not long after that, they saw Aodh coming, his head dry and hisfeathers beautiful, and Fionnuala gave him a great welcome, and she puthim in under the feathers of her breast, and Fiachra under her rightwing and Conn under her left wing, the way she could put her feathersover them all. "And Och! my brothers, " she said, "this was a bad nightto us, and it is many of its like are before us from this out. "

They stayed there a long time after that, suffering cold and misery onthe Maoil, till at last a night came on them they had never known thelike of before, for frost and snow and wind and cold. And they werecrying and lamenting the hardship of their life, and the cold of thenight and the greatness of the snow and the hardness of the wind. Andafter they had suffered cold to the end of a year, a worse night againcame on them, in the middle of winter. And they were on Carraig na Ron, and the water froze about them, and as they rested on the rock, theirfeet and their wings and their feathers froze to the rock, the way theywere not able to move from it. And they made such a hard struggle to getaway, that they left the skin of their feet and their feathers and thetops of their wings on the rock after them. 

"My grief, children of Lir, " said Fionnuala, "it is bad our state isnow, for we cannot bear the salt water to touch us, and there are bondson us not to leave it; and if the salt water goes into our sores, " shesaid, "we will get our death. " And she made this complaint:

"It is keening we are to-night; without feathers to cover our bodies; itis cold the rough, uneven rocks are under our bare feet. 

"It is bad our stepmother was to us the time she played enchantments onus, sending us out like swans upon the sea. 

"Our washing place is on the ridge of the bay, in the foam of flyingmanes of the sea; our share of the ale feast is the salt water of theblue tide. 

"One daughter and three sons; it is in the clefts of the rocks we are;it is on the hard rocks we are, it is a pity the way we are. "

However, they came on to the course of the Maoil again, and the saltwater was sharp and rough and bitter to them, but if it was itself, theywere not able to avoid it or to get shelter from it. And they were thereby the shore under that hardship till such time as their feathers grewagain, and their wings, and till their sores were entirely healed. Andthen they used to go every day to the shore of Ireland or of Alhan, butthey had to come back to Sruth na Maoile every night. 

Now they came one day to the mouth of the Banna, to the north ofIreland, and they saw a troop of riders, beautiful, of the one colour, with well-trained pure white horses under them, and they travelling theroad straight from the Southwest. 

"Do you know who those riders are, sons of Lir?" said Fionnuala. 

"We do not, " they said; "but it is likely they might be some troop ofthe Sons of the Gael, or of the Tuatha de Danaan. "

They moved over closer to the shore then, that they might know who theywere, and when the riders saw them they came to meet them until theywere able to hold talk together. 

And the chief men among them were two sons of Bodb Dearg, AodhAithfhiosach, of the quick wits, and Fergus Fithchiollach, of the chess, and a third part of the Riders of the Sidhe along with them, and it wasfor the swans they had been looking for a long while before that, andwhen they came together they wished one another a kind and lovingwelcome. 

And the children of Lir asked for news of all the men of Dea, and aboveall of Lir, and Bodb Dearg and their people. 

"They are well, and they are in the one place together, " said they, "inyour father's house at Sidhe Fionnachaidh, using the Feast of Agepleasantly and happily, and with no uneasiness on them, only for beingwithout yourselves, and without knowledge of what happened you from theday you left Loch Dairbhreach. "

"That has not been the way with us, " said Fionnuala, "for we have gonethrough great hardship and uneasiness and misery on the tides of the seauntil this day. "

And she made this complaint:

"There is delight to-night with the household of Lir! Plenty of ale withthem and of wine, although it is in a cold dwelling-place this night arethe four children of the King. 

"It is without a spot our bedclothes are, our bodies covered over withcurved feathers; but it is often we were dressed in purple, and wedrinking pleasant mead. 

"It is what our food is and our drink, the white sand and the bitterwater of the sea; it is often we drank mead of hazel nuts from roundfour-lipped drinking cups. 

"It is what our beds are, bare rocks out of the power of the waves; itis often there used to be spread out for us beds of the breast feathersof birds. 

"Though it is our work now to be swimming through the frost and throughthe noise of the waves, it is often a company of the sons of kings wereriding after us to the Hill of Bodb. 

"It is what wasted my strength, to be going and coming over the currentof the Maoil the way I never was used to, and never to be in thesunshine on the soft grass. 

"Fiachra's bed and Conn's bed is to come under the cover of my wings onthe sea. Aodh has his place under the feathers of my breast, the four ofus side by side. 

"The teaching of Manannan without deceit, the talk of Bodb Dearg on thepleasant ridge; the voice of Angus, his sweet kisses; it is by theirside I used to be without grief. "

After that the riders went on to Lir's house, and they told the chiefmen of the Tuatha de Danaan all the birds had gone through, and thestate they were in. "We have no power over them, " the chief men said, "but we are glad they are living yet, for they will get help in the endof time. "

As to the children of Lir, they went back toward their old place in theMaoil, and they stopped there till the time they had to spend in it, wasspent. And then Fionnuala said: "The time is come for us to leave thisplace. And it is to Irrus Domnann we must go now, " she said, "after ourthree hundred years here. And indeed there will be no rest for us there, or any standing ground, or any shelter from the storms. But since it istime for us to go, let us set out on the cold wind, the way we will notgo astray. "

So they set out in that way, and left Sruth na Maoile behind them, andwent to the point of Irrus Domnann, and there they stopped, and it is alife of misery and a cold life they led there. And one time the seafroze about them that they could not move at all, and the brothers werelamenting, and Fionnuala was comforting them, for she knew there wouldhelp come to them in the end. 

And they stayed at Irrus Domnann till the time they had to spend therewas spent. And then Fionnuala said: "The time is come for us to go backto Sidhe Fionnachaidh, where our father is with his household and withall our own people. "

"It pleases us well to hear that, " they said. 

So they set out flying through the air lightly till they came to SidheFionnachaidh; and it is how they found the place, empty before them, andnothing in it but green hillocks and thickets of nettles, without ahouse, without a fire, without a hearthstone. And the four pressed closeto one another then, and they gave out three sorrowful cries, andFionnuala made this complaint:

"It is a wonder to me this place is, and it without a house, without adwelling-place. To see it the way it is now, Ochonel it is bitterness tomy heart. 

"Without dogs, without hounds for hunting, without women, without greatkings; we never knew it to be like this when our father was in it, "Without horns, without cups, without drinking in the lighted house;without young men, without riders; the way it is to-night is aforetelling of sorrow. 

"The people of the place to be as they are now, Ochone! it is grief tomy heart! It is plain to my mind to-night the lord of the house is notliving. 

"Och, house where we used to see music and playing and the gathering ofpeople! I think it is a great change to see it lonely the way it isto-night. 

"The greatness of the hardships we have gone through going from one waveto another of the sea, we never heard of the like of them coming on anyother person. 

"It is seldom this place had its part with grass and bushes; the man isnot living that would know us, it would be a wonder to him to see ushere. "

However, the children of Lir stopped that night in their father's placeand their grandfather's, where they had been reared, and they weresinging very sweet music of the Sidhe. And they rose up early on themorning of the morrow and went to Inis Gluarie, and all the birds of thecountry gathered near them on Loch na-n Ean, the Lake of the Birds. Andthey used to go out to feed every day to the far parts of the country, to Inis Geadh and to Accuill, the place Donn, son of Miled, and hispeople that were drowned were buried, and to all the western islands ofConnacht, and they used to go back to Inis Gluaire every night. 

It was about that time it happened them to meet with a young man of goodrace, and his name was Aibric; and he often took notice of the birds, and their singing was sweet to him and he loved them greatly, and theyloved him. And it is this young man that told the whole story of allthat had happened them, and put it in order. 

And the story he told of what happened them in the end is this. 

It was after the faith of Christ and blessed Patrick came into Ireland, that Saint Mochaomhog came to Inis Gluaire. And the first night he cameto the island, the children of Lir heard the voice of his bell, ringingnear them. And the brothers started up with fright when they heard it. "We do not know, " they said, "what is that weak, unpleasing voice wehear. "

"That is the voice of the bell of Mochaomhog, " said Fionnuala; "and itis through that bell, " she said, "you will be set free from pain andfrom misery. "

They listened to that music of the bell till the matins were done, andthen they began to sing the low, sweet music of the Sidhe. 

And Mochaomhog was listening to them, and he prayed to God to show himwho was singing that music, and it was showed to him that the childrenof Lir were singing it. And on the morning of the morrow he went forwardto the Lake of the Birds, and he saw the swans before him on the lake, and he went down to them at the brink of the shore. "Are you thechildren of Lir?" he said. 

"We are indeed, " said they. 

"I give thanks to God for that, " said he, "for it is for your sakes I amcome to this island beyond any other island, and let you come to landnow, " he said, "and give your trust to me, that you may do good deedsand part from your sins. "

They came to the land after that, and they put trust in Mochaomhog, andhe brought them to his own dwelling-place, and they used to be hearingMass with him. And he got a good smith and bade him make chains ofbright silver for them, and he put a chain between Aodh and Fionnuala, and a chain between Conn and Fachra, And the four of them were raisinghis heart and gladdening his mind, and no danger and no distress thatwas on the swans before put any trouble on them now. 

Now the king of Connacht at that time was Lairgnen, son of Colman, sonof Colman, son of Cobthach, and Deoch, daughter of Finghin, was hiswife. And that was the coming together of the Man from the North and theWoman from the South, that Aoife had spoken of. 

And the woman heard talk of the birds, and a great desire came on her toget them, and she bade Lairgnen to bring them to her, and he said hewould ask them of Mochaomhog. 

And she gave her word she would not stop another night with him unlesshe would bring them to her. And she set out from the house there andthen. And Lairgnen sent messengers after her to bring her back, and theydid not overtake her till she was at Cill Dun. She went back home withthem then, and Lairgnen sent messengers to ask the birds of Mochaomhog, and he did not get them. 

There was great anger on Lairgnen then, and he went himself to the placeMochaomhog was, and he asked was it true he had refused him the birds. "It is true indeed, " said he. At that Lairgnen rose up, and he took holdof the swans, and pulled them off the altar, two birds in each hand, tobring them away to Deoch. But no sooner had he laid his hand on themthan their bird skins fell off, and what was in their place was threelean, withered old men and a thin withered old woman, without blood orflesh. 

And Lairgnen gave a great start at that, and he went out from the place. It is then Fionnuala said to Mochaomhog: "Come and baptise us now, forit is short till our death comes; and it is certain you do not thinkworse of parting with us than we do of parting with you. And make ourgrave afterward, " she said, "and lay Conn on my right side and Fiachraon my left side, and Aodh before my face, between my two arms. And prayto the God of Heaven, " she said, "that you may he able to baptise us. "

The children of Lir were baptised then, and they died and were buried asFionnuala had desired; Fiachra and Conn one at each side of her, andAohd before her face. And a stone was put over them, and their nameswere written in Ogham, and they were keened there, and heaven was gainedfor their souls. 

And that is the fate of the children of Lir. 

CHAPTER X

THE BELEAGUERED CITY

 I have read, in some old marvellous tale Some legend strange and vague, That a midnight host of spectres pale Beleaguered the walls of Prague. 

 Beside the Moldau's rushing stream. With the wan moon overhead, There stood, as in an awful dream, The army of the dead. 

 White as a sea-fog, landward bound, The spectral camp was seen, And, with a sorrowful, deep sound, The river flowed between. 

 No other voice nor sound was there, No drum, nor sentry's pace; The mist-like banners clasped the air, As clouds with clouds embrace. 

 But, when the old cathedral bell Proclaimed the morning prayer, The white pavilions rose and fell On the alarmed air. 

 Down the broad valley fast and far The troubled army fled; Up rose the glorious morning star, The ghastly host was dead. 

 I have read, in the marvellous heart of man, That strange and mystic scroll, That an army of phantoms vast and wan Beleaguer the human soul. 

 Encamped beside Life's rushing stream, In Fancy's misty light, Gigantic shapes and shadows gleam Portentous through the night. 

 Upon its midnight battle-ground The spectral camp is seen, And, with a sorrowful, deep sound, Flows the River of Life between. 

 No other voice, nor sound is there, In the army of the grave; No other challenge breaks the air, But the rushing of Life's wave. 

 And, when the solemn and deep church-bell Entreats the soul to pray, The midnight phantoms feel the spell The shadows sweep away. 

 Down the broad Vale of Tears afar The spectral camp is fled; Faith shineth as a morning star, Our ghastly fears are dead. 

CHAPTER XI

PRESTER JOHN

About the middle of the twelfth century, a rumour circulated throughEurope that there reigned in Asia a powerful Christian Emperor, Presbyter Johannes. In a bloody fight he had broken the power of theMussulmans, and was ready to come to the assistance of the Crusaders. Great was the exultation in Europe, for of late the news from the Easthad been gloomy and depressing, the power of the infidel had increased, overwhelming masses of men had been brought into the field against thechivalry of Christendom, and it was felt that the cross must yieldbefore the odious crescent. 

The news of the success of the Priest-King opened a door of hope to thedesponding Christian world. Pope Alexander III. Determined at once toeffect a union with this mysterious personage, and on the 27th ofSeptember, 1177, wrote him a letter, which he intrusted to hisphysician, Philip, to deliver in person. 

Philip started on his embassy, but never returned. The conquests ofTschengis-Khan again attracted the eyes of Christian Europe to the East. The Mongol hordes were rushing in upon the West with devastatingferocity; Russia, Poland, Hungary, and the Eastern provinces of Germanyhad succumbed, or suffered grievously; and the fears of other nationswere roused lest they too should taste the misery of a Mongolianinvasion. It was Gog and Magog come to slaughter, and the times ofAntichrist were dawning. But the battle of Liegnitz stayed them in theironward career, and Europe was saved. 

Pope Innocent IV. Determined to convert these wild hordes of barbarians, and subject them to the cross of Christ; he therefore sent among them anumber of Dominican and Franciscan missioners, and embassies of peacepassed between the Pope, the King of France, and the Mogul Khan, The result of these communications with the East was, that thetravellers learned how false were the prevalent notions of a mightyChristian empire existing in Central Asia. Vulgar superstition orconviction is not, however, to be upset by evidence, and the locality ofthe monarchy was merely transferred by the people to Africa, and theyfixed upon Abyssinia, with a show of truth, as the seat of the famousPriest-King. However, still some doubted. John de Piano Carpini andMarco Polo, though they acknowledged the existence of a Christianmonarch in Abyssinia, yet stoutly maintained as well that Prester Johnof popular belief reigned in splendour somewhere in the dim Orient. 

But before proceeding with the history of this strange fable, it will bewell to extract the different accounts given of the Priest-King and hisrealm by early writers; and we shall then be better able to judge of theinfluence the myth obtained in Europe. 

Otto of Freisingen is the first author to mention the monarchy ofPrester John, with whom we are acquainted. Otto wrote a chronicle up tothe date 1156, and he relates that in 1145 the Catholic Bishop of Cabalavisited Europe to lay certain complaints before the Pope. He mentionedthe fall of Edessa, and also "he stated that a few years ago a certainKing and Priest called John, who lives on the farther side of Persia andArmenia, in the remote East, and who, with all his people, wereChristians, though belonging to the Nestorian Church, had overcome theroyal brothers Samiardi, kings of the Medes and Persians, and hadcaptured Ecbatana, their capital and residence. The said kings had metwith their Persian, Median, and Assyrian troops, and had fought forthree consecutive days, each side having determined to die rather thantake to flight. Prester John, for so they are wont to call him, atlength routed the Persians, and after a bloody battle, remainedvictorious. After which victory the said John was hastening to theassistance of the Church at Jerusalem, but his host, on reaching theTigris, was hindered from passing, through a deficiency in boats, and hedirected his march North, since he had heard that the river was therecovered with ice. In that place he had waited many years, expectingsevere cold; but the winters having proved unpropitious, and theseverity of the climate having carried off many soldiers, he had beenforced to retreat to his own land. This king belongs to the family ofthe Magi, mentioned in the Gospel, and he rules over the very peopleformerly governed by the Magi; moreover, his fame and his wealth are sogreat, that he uses an emerald sceptre only. 

"Excited by the example of his ancestors, who came to worship Christ inhis cradle, he had proposed to go to Jerusalem, but had been impeded bythe above-mentioned causes. "

At the same time the story crops up in other quarters; so that we cannotlook upon Otto as the inventor of the myth. The celebrated Maimonidesalludes to it in a passage quoted by Joshua Lorki, a Jewish physician toBenedict XIII. Maimonides lived from 1135 to 1204. The passage is asfollows: "It is evident both from the letters of Rambam (Maimonides), whose memory be blessed, and from the narration of merchants who havevisited the ends of the earth, that at this time the root of our faithis to be found in the lands of Babel and Teman, where long ago Jerusalemwas an exile; not reckoning those who live in the land of Paras andMadai, of the exiles of Schomrom, the number of which people is as thesand: of these some are still under the yoke of Paras, who is called theGreat-Chief Sultan by the Arabs; others live in a place under the yokeof a strange people . .. Governed by a Christian chief, Preste-Cuan byname. With him they have made a compact, and he with them; and this is amatter concerning which there can be no manner of doubt. "

Benjamin of Tudela, another Jew, travelled in the East between the years1159 and 1173, the last being the date of his death. He wrote an accountof his travels, and gives in it some information with regard to amythical Jew king, who reigned in the utmost splendour over a realminhabited by Jews alone, situate somewhere in the midst of a desert ofvast extent. About this period there appeared a document which producedintense excitement throughout Europe--a letter, yes! a letter from themysterious personage himself to Manuel Comnenus, Errmeror ofConstantinople (1143-1180). The exact date of this extraordinary epistlecannot be fixed with any certainty, but it certainly appeared before1241, the date of the conclusion of the chronicle of Albericus TriumFontium. This Albericus relates that in the year 1165 "PresbyterJohannes, the Indian king, sent his wonderful letter to variousChristian princes, and especially to Manuel of Constantinople, andFrederic the Roman Emperor. " Similar letters were sent to AlexanderIII, to Louis VII of France, and to the King of Portugal, which arealluded to in chronicles and romances, and which were indeed turned intorhyme, and sung all over Europe by minstrels and trouveres. The letteris as follows:

"John, Priest by the Almighty power of God and the Might of our LordJesus Christ, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords, to his friend Emanuel, Prince of Constantinople, greeting, wishing him health, prosperity, andthe continuance of Divine favour. 

"Our Majesty has been informed that you hold our Excellency in love, andthat the report of our greatness has reached you. Moreover, we haveheard through our treasurer that you have been pleased to send to ussome objects of art and interest, that our Exaltedness might begratified thereby. 

"Being human, I receive it in good part, and we have ordered ourtreasurer to send you some of our articles in return. 

"Now we desire to be made certain that you hold the right faith, and inall things cleave to Jesus Christ, our Lord, for we have heard that yourcourt regard you as a god, though we know that you are mortal, andsubject to human infirmities. .. . Should you desire to learn the greatnessand excellency of our Exaltedness and of the land subject to oursceptre, then hear and believe: I, Presbyter Johannes, the Lord ofLords, surpass all under heaven in virtue, in riches, and in power;seventy-two kings pay us tribute. .. . In the three Indies our Magnificencerules, and our land extends beyond India, where rests the body of theholy Apostle Thomas; it reaches toward the sunrise over the wastes, andit trends toward deserted Babylon near the tower of Babel. Seventy-twoprovinces, of which only a few are Christian, serve us. Each has its ownking, but all are tributary to us. 

"Our land is the home of elephants, dromedaries, camels, crocodiles, meta-collinarum, cametennus, ten-sevetes, wild asses, white and redlions, white bears, white merules, crickets, griffins, tigers, lamias, hyenas, wild horses, wild oxen and wild men, men with horns, one-eyed, men with eyes before and behind, centaurs, fauns, satyrs, pygmies, forty-ell-high giants, Cyclopses, and similar women; it is the home, too, of the phoenix, and of nearly all living animals. We have somepeople subject to us who feed on the flesh of men and of prematurelyborn animals, and who never fear death. When any of these people die, their friends and relations eat them ravenously, for they regard it as amain duty to munch human flesh. Their names are Gog and Magog, Anie, Agit, Azenach, Fommeperi, Befari, Conei-Samante, Agrimandri, Vintefolei, Casbei, Alanei. These and similar nations were shut in behind loftymountains by Alexander the Great, toward the North. We lead them at ourpleasure against our foes, and neither man nor beast is left undevoured, if our Majesty gives the requisite permission. And when all our foes areeaten, then we return with our hosts home again. These accursed fifteennations will burst forth from the four quarters of the earth at the endof the world, in the times of Antichrist, and overrun all the abodes ofthe Saints as well as the great city Rome, which, by the way, we areprepared to give to our son who will be born, along with all Italy, Germany, the two Gauls, Britain and Scotland. We shall also give himSpain and all the land as far as the icy sea. The nations to which Ihave alluded, according to the words of the prophet, shall not stand inthe judgment, on account of their offensive practices, but will beconsumed to ashes by a fire which will fall on them from heaven. 

"Our land streams with honey, and is overflowing with milk. In oneregion grows no poisonous herb, nor does a querulous frog ever quack init; no scorpion exists, nor does the serpent glide amongst the grass, nor can any poisonous animals exist in it, or injure any one. 

"Among the heathen, flows through a certain province the River Indus;encircling Paradise, it spreads its arms in manifold windings throughthe entire province. Here are found the emeralds, sapphires, carbuncles, topazes, chrysolites, onyxes, beryls, sardius, and other costly stones. Here grows the plant Assidos, which, when worn by any one, protects himfrom the evil spirit, forcing it to state its business and name;consequently the foul spirits keep out of the way there. In a certainland subject to us, all kinds of pepper is gathered, and is exchangedfor corn and bread, leather and cloth. .. . At the foot of Mount Olympusbubbles up a spring which changes its flavour hour by hour, night andday, and the spring is scarcely three days' journey from Paradise, outof which Adam was driven. If any one has tasted thrice of the fountain, from that day he will feel no fatigue, but will, as long as he lives, beas a man of thirty years. Here are found the small stones calledNudiosi, which, if borne about the body, prevent the sight from waxingfeeble, and restore it where it is lost. The more the stone is lookedat, the keener becomes the sight. In our territory is a certainwaterless sea, consisting of tumbling billows of sand never at rest. None have crossed this sea; it lacks water altogether, yet fish are castup upon the beach of various kinds, very tasty, and the like are nowhereelse to be seen. Three days' journey from this sea are mountains fromwhich rolls down a stony, waterless river, which opens into the sandysea. As soon as the stream reaches the sea, its stones vanish in it, andare never seen again. As long as the river is in motion, it cannot becrossed; only four days a week is it possible to traverse it. Betweenthe sandy sea and the said mountains, in a certain plain is a fountainof singular virtue, which purges Christians and would-be Christians fromall transgressions. The water stands four inches high in a hollow stoneshaped like a musselsheil. Two saintly old men watch by it, and ask thecomers whether they are Christians, or are about to become Christians, then whether they desire healing with all their hearts. If they haveanswered well, they are bidden to lay aside their clothes, and to stepinto the mussel. If what they said be true, then the water begins torise and gush over their heads; thrice does the water thus lift itself, and every one who has entered the mussel leaves it cured of everycomplaint. 

"Near the wilderness trickles between barren mountains a subterraneanrill, which can only by chance be reached, for only occasionally theearth gapes, and he who would descend must do it with precipitation, erethe earth closes again. All that is gathered under the ground there isgem and precious stone. The brook pours into another river, and theinhabitants of the neighbourhood obtain thence abundance of preciousstones. Yet they never venture to sell them without having first offeredthem to us for our private use: should we decline them, they are atliberty to dispose of them to strangers. Boys there are trained toremain three or four days under water, diving after the stones. 

"Beyond the stone river are the ten tribes of the Jews, which, thoughsubject to their own kings, are, for all that, our slaves and tributaryto our Majesty. In one of our lands, hight Zone, are worms called in ourtongue Salamanders. These worms can only live in fire, and they buildcocoons like silk-worms, which are unwound by the ladies of our palace, and spun into cloth and dresses, which are worn by our Exaltedness. These dresses, in order to be cleaned and washed, are cast intoflames. .. . When we go to war, we have fourteen golden and bejewelledcrosses borne before us instead of banners; each of these crosses isfollowed by 10, 000 horsemen, and 100, 000 foot soldiers fully armed, without reckoning those in charge of the luggage and provision. 

"When we ride abroad plainly, we have a wooden, unadorned cross, withoutgold or gem about it, borne before us, in order that we may meditate onthe sufferings of Our Lord Jesus Christ; also a golden bowl filled withearth, to remind us of that whence we sprung, and that to which we mustreturn; but besides these there is borne a silver bowl full of gold, asa token to all that we are the Lord of Lords. 

"All riches, such as are upon the world, our Magnificence possesses insuperabundance. With us no one lies, for he who speaks a lie isthenceforth regarded as dead; he is no more thought of, or honoured byus. No vice is tolerated by us. Every year we undertake a pilgrimage, with retinue of war, to the body of the holy prophet Daniel, which isnear the desolated site of Babylon. In our realm fishes are caught, theblood of which dyes purple. The Amazons and the Brahmins are subject tous. The palace in which our Super-eminency resides, is built after thepattern of the castle built by the Apostle Thomas for the Indian kingGundoforus. Ceilings, joists, and architrave are of Sethym wood, theroof of ebony, which can never catch fire. Over the gable of the palaceare, at the extremities, two golden apples, in each of which are twocarbuncles, so that the gold may shine by day, and the carbuncles bynight. The greater gates of the palace are of sardius, with the horn ofthe horned snake inwrought, so that no one can bring poison within. 

"The other portals are of ebony. The windows are of crystal; the tablesare partly of gold, partly of amethyst, and the columns supporting thetables are partly of ivory, partly of amethyst. The court in which wewatch the jousting is floored with onyx in order to increase the courageof the combatants. In the palace, at night, nothing is burned for lightbut wicks supplied with balsam. .. . Before our palace stands a mirror, theascent to which consists of five and twenty steps of porphyry andserpentine. " After a description of the gems adorning this mirror, whichis guarded night and day by three thousand armed men, he explains itsuse: "We look therein and behold all that is taking place in everyprovince and region subject to our sceptre. 

"Seven kings wait upon us monthly, in turn, with sixty-two dukes, twohundred and fifty-six counts and marquises: and twelve archbishops sitat table with us on our right, and twenty bishops on the left, besidesthe patriarch of St. Thomas, the Sarmatian Protopope, and the Archpopeof Susa. .. . Our lord high steward is a primate and king, our cup-beareris an archbishop and king, our chamberlain a bishop and king, ourmarshal king and abbot. "

CHAPTER XII

THE WANDERING JEW

The year 1228, "a certain Archbishop of Armenia the Greater came on apilgrimage to England to see the relics of the saints, and visit thesacred places in the kingdom, as he had done in others; he also producedletters of recommendation from his Holiness the Pope, to the religiousand the prelates of the churches, in which they were enjoined to receiveand entertain him with due reverence and honour. On his arrival, he cameto St. Albans, where he was received with all respect by the abbot andthe monks; and at this place, being fatigued with his journey, heremained some days to rest himself and his followers, and a conversationtook place between him and the inhabitants of the convent, by means oftheir interpreters, during which he made many inquiries relating to thereligion and religious observances of this country, and told manystrange things concerning the countries of the East. In the course ofconversation he was asked whether he had ever seen or heard any thing ofJoseph, a man of whom there was much talk in the world, who, when ourLord suffered, was present and spoke to Him, and who is still alive, inevidence of the Christian faith; in reply to which, a knight in hisretinue, who was his interpreter, replied, speaking in French, 'My lordwell knows that man, and a little before he took his way to the westerncountries, the said Joseph ate at the table of my lord the Archbishop ofArmenia, and he has often seen and conversed with him. '

"He was then asked about what had passed between Christ and the saidJoseph; to which he replied, 'At the time of the passion of JesusChrist, He was seized by the Jews, and led into the hall of judgmentbefore Pilate, the governor, that He might be judged by him on theaccusation of the Jews; and Pilate, finding no fault for which he mightsentence Him to death, said unto them, "Take Him and judge Him accordingto your law"; the shouts of the Jews, however, increasing, he, at theirrequest, released unto them Barabbas, and delivered Jesus to them to becrucified. When, therefore, the Jews were dragging Jesus forth, and hadreached the door, Cartaphilus, a porter of the hall in Pilate's service, as Jesus was going out of the door, impiously struck Him on the backwith his hand, and said in mockery, "Go quicker, Jesus, go quicker; whydo you loiter?" and Jesus, looking back on him with a severecountenance, said to him, "I am going, and you shall wait till Ireturn. " And according as our Lord said, this Cartaphilus is stillawaiting His return. At the time of our Lord's suffering he was thirtyyears old, and when he attains the age of a hundred years, he alwaysreturns to the same age as he was when our Lord suffered. After Christ'sdeath, when the Catholic faith gained ground, this Cartaphilus wasbaptised by Ananias (who also baptised the Apostle Paul), and was calledJoseph. He dwells in one or other divisions of Armenia, and in diversEastern countries, passing his time amongst the bishops and otherprelates of the Church; he is a man of holy conversation, and religious;a man of few words, and very circumspect in his behaviour; for he doesnot speak at all unless when questioned by the bishops and religious;and then he relates the events of olden times, and speaks of thingswhich occurred at the suffering and resurrection of our Lord, and of thewitnesses of the resurrection, namely, of those who rose with Christ, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto men. He also tells of thecreed of the Apostles, and of their separation and preaching. And allthis he relates without smiling, or levity of conversation, as one whois well practised in sorrow and the fear of God, always looking forwardwith dread to the coming of Jesus Christ, lest at the Last Judgment heshould find Him in anger whom, when on His way to death, he had provokedto just vengeance. Numbers came to him from different parts of theworld, enjoying his society and conversation; and to them, if they aremen of authority, he explains all doubts on the matters on which he isquestioned. He refuses all gifts that are offered him, being contentwith slight food and clothing. '"

Much about the same date, Philip Mouskes, afterward Bishop of Tournay, wrote his rhymed chronicle (1242), which contains a similar account ofthe Jew, derived from the same Armenian prelate:

 "Adonques vint un arceveskes De ca mer, plains de bonnes teques Par samblant, et fut d'Armenie, "

and this man, having visited the shrine of "St. Tumas de Kantobire, " andthen having paid his devotions at "Monsigour St. Jake, " he went on toCologne to see the heads of the three kings. The version told in theNetherlands much resembled that related at St. Albans, only that theJew, seeing the people dragging Christ to his death, exclaims:

 "Atendes moi! g'i vois, S'iert mis le faus profete en crois. "

Then

 "Le vrais Dieux se regarda, Et li a dit qu'e n'i tarda, Icist ne t'atenderont pas, Mais saces, tu m'atenderas. "

We hear no more of the wandering Jew till the sixteenth century, when wehear first of him in a casual manner, as assisting a weaver, Kokot, atthe royal palace in Bohemia (1505), to find a treasure which had beensecreted by the great-grandfather of Kokot, sixty years before, at whichtime the Jew was present. He then had the appearance of being a man ofseventy years. 

Curiously enough, we next hear of him in the East, where he isconfounded with the prophet Elijah. Early in the century he appeared toFadhilah, under peculiar circumstances. 

After the Arabs had captured the city of Elvan, Fadhilah, at the head ofthree hundred horsemen, pitched his tents, late in the evening, betweentwo mountains. Fadhilah, having begun his evening prayer with a loudvoice, heard the words "Allah akbar" (God is great) repeated distinctly, and each word of his prayer was followed in a similar manner. Fadhilah, not believing this to be the result of an echo, was much astonished, andcried out, "O thou! whether thou art of the angel ranks, or whether thouart of some other order of spirits, it is well; the power of God be withthee; but if thou art a man, then let mine eyes light upon thee, that Imay rejoice in thy presence and society. " Scarcely had he spoken thesewords, before an aged man, with bald head, stood before him, holding astaff In his hand, and much resembling a dervish in appearance. Afterhaving courteously saluted him, Fadhilah asked the old man who he was. Thereupon the stranger answered, "Bassi Hadhret Issa, I am here bycommand of the Lord Jesus, who has left me in this world, that I maylive therein until he come a second time to earth. I wait for this Lord, who is the Fountain of Happiness, and in obedience to his command Idwell behind yon mountain. " When Fadhilah heard these words, he askedwhen the Lord Jesus would appear; and the old man replied that hisappearing would be at the end of the world, at the Last Judgment. Butthis only increased Fadhilah's curiosity, so that he inquired the signsof the approach of the end of all things, whereupon Zerib Bar Elia gavehim an account of general, social, and moral dissolution, which would bethe climax of this world's history. 

In 1547 he was seen in Europe, if we are to believe the followingnarration:

"Paul von Eitzen, Doctor of the Holy Scriptures, and Bishop ofSchleswig, [Footnote: Paul v. Eitzen was born January 25, 1522, atHamburg; in 1562 he was appointed chief preacher for Schleswig, and diedFebruary 25, 1598. ] related as true for some years past, that when hewas young, having studied at Wittemberg, he returned home to his parentsin Hamburg in the winter of the year 1547, and that on the followingSunday, in church, he observed a tall man, with his hair hanging overhis shoulders, standing barefoot, during the sermon, over against thepulpit, listening with deepest attention to the discourse, and, wheneverthe name of Jesus was mentioned, bowing himself profoundly and humbly, with sighs and beating of the breast. He had no other clothing, in thebitter cold of the winter, except a pair of hose which were in tattersabout his feet, and a coat with a girdle which reached to his feet; andhis general appearance was that of a man of fifty years. And manypeople, some of high degree and title, have seen this same man inEngland, France, Italy, Hungary, Persia, Spain, Poland, Moscow, Lapland, Sweden, Denmark, Scotland, and other places. 

"Every one wondered over the man. Now, after the sermon, the said Doctorinquired diligently where the stranger was to be found; and when he hadsought him out, he inquired of him privately whence he came, and howlong that winter he had been in the place. Thereupon he replied, modestly, that he was a Jew by birth, a native of Jerusalem, by nameAliasverus, by trade a shoemaker; he had been present at the crucifixionof Christ, and had lived ever since, travelling through various landsand cities, the which he substantiated by accounts he gave; he relatedalso the circumstances of Christ's transference from Pilate to Herod, and the final crucifixion, together with other details not recorded inthe Evangelists and historians; he gave accounts of the changes ofgovernment in many countries, especially of the East, through severalcenturies; and moreover he detailed the labours and deaths of the holyApostles of Christ most circumstantially. 

"Now when Doctor Paul v. Eitzen heard this with profound astonishment, on account of its incredible novelty, he inquired further, in order thathe might obtain more accurate information. Then the man answered, thathe had lived in Jerusalem at the time of the crucifixion of Christ, whomhe had regarded as a deceiver of the people, and a heretic; he had seenHim with his own eyes, and had done his best, along with others, tobring this deceiver, as he regarded Him, to justice, and to have Him putout of the way. When the sentence had been pronounced by Pilate, Christwas about to be dragged past his house; then he ran home, and calledtogether his household to have a look at Christ, and see what sort of aperson He was. 

"This having been done, he had his little child on his arm, and wasstanding in his doorway, to have a sight of the Lord Jesus Christ. 

"As, then, Christ was led by, bowed under the weight of the heavy cross, He tried to rest a little, and stood still a moment; but the shoemaker, in zeal and rage, and for the sake of obtaining credit among the otherJews, drove the Lord Christ forward, and told Him to hasten on His way. Jesus, obeying, looked at him, and said, 'I shall stand and rest, butthou shalt go till the last day. ' At these words the man set down thechild; and, unable to remain where he was, he followed Christ, and sawhow cruelly He was crucified, how He suffered, how He died. As soon asthis had taken place, it came upon him suddenly that he could no morereturn to Jerusalem, nor see again his wife and child, but must go forthinto foreign lands, one after another, like a mournful pilgrim. Now, when, years after, he returned to Jerusalem, he found it ruined andutterly razed, so that not one stone was left standing on another; andhe could not recognise former localities. 

"He believes that it is God's purpose, in thus driving him about inmiserable life, and preserving him undying, to present him before theJews at the end, as a living token, so that the godless and unbelievingmay remember the death of Christ, and be turned to repentance. For hispart he would well rejoice were God in heaven to release him from thisvale of tears. After this conversation, Doctor Paul v. Eitzen, alongwith the rector of the school of Hamburg, who was well read in history, and a traveller, questioned him about events which had taken place inthe East since the death of Christ, and he was able to give them muchinformation on many ancient matters; so that it was impossible not to beconvinced of the truth of his story, and to see that what seemsimpossible with men is, after all, possible with God. 

"Since the Jew has had his life extended, he has become silent andreserved, and only answers direct questions. When invited to become anyone's guest, he eats little, and drinks in great moderation; thenhurries on, never remaining long in one place. When at Hamburg, Dantzig, and elsewhere, money has been offered him, he never took more than twoshillings (fourpence, one farthing), and at once distributed it to thepoor, as token that he needed no money, for God would provide for him, as he rued the sins he had committed in ignorance. 

"During the period of his stay in Hamburg and Dantzig he was never seento laugh. In whatever land he travelled he spoke its language, and whenhe spoke Saxon, it was like a native Saxon. Many people came fromdifferent places to Hamburg and Dantzig in order to see and hear thisman, and were convinced that the providence of God was exercised in thisindividual in a very remarkable manner. He gladly listened to God'sword, or heard it spoken of always with great gravity and compunction, and he ever reverenced with sighs the pronunciation of the name of God, or of Jesus Christ, and could not endure to hear curses; but whenever heheard any one swear by God's death or pains, he waxed indignant, andexclaimed, with vehemence and with sighs, 'Wretched man and miserablecreature, thus to misuse the name of thy Lord and God, and His bittersufferings and passion. Hadst thou seen, as I have, how heavy and bitterwere the pangs and wounds of thy Lord, endured for thee and for me, thouwouldst rather undergo great pain thyself than thus take His sacred namein vain!'

"Such is the account given to me by Doctor Paul von Eitzen, with manycircumstantial proofs, and corroborated by certain of my own oldacquaintances who saw this same individual with their own eyes inHamburg. 

"In the year 1575 the Secretary Christopher Krause, and Master Jacob vonHolstein, legates to the Court of Spain, and afterward sent into theNetherlands to pay the soldiers serving his Majesty in that country, related on their return home to Schleswig, and confirmed with solemnoaths, that they had come across the same mysterious individual atMadrid in Spain, in appearance, manner of life, habits, clothing, justthe same as he had appeared in Hamburg. They said that they had spokenwith him, and that many people of all classes had conversed with him, and found him to speak good Spanish. In the year 1599, in December, areliable person wrote from Brunswick to Strasburg that the samementioned strange person had been seen alive at Vienna in Austria, andthat he had started for Poland and Dantzig; and that he purposed goingon to Moscow. This Ahasverus was at Lubeck in 1601, also about the samedate in Revel in Livonia, and in Cracow in Poland. In Moscow he was seenof many and spoken to by many. 

"What thoughtful, God-fearing persons are to think of the said person, is at their option. God's works are wondrous and past finding out, andare manifested day by day, only to be revealed in full at the last greatday of account. 

 "Dated, Revel, August 1st, 1613. "D. W. "D. "Chrysostomus Duduloeus, "Westphalus. "

 * * * * *

In 1604 he seems to have appeared in Paris. Rudolph Botoreus says, underthis date, "I fear lest I be accused of giving ear to old wives' fables, if I insert in these pages what is reported all over Europe of the Jew, coeval with the Saviour Christ; however, nothing is more common, and ourpopular histories have not scrupled to assert it. Following the lead ofthose who wrote our annals, I may say that he who appeared not in onecentury only, in Spain, Italy, and Germany, was also in this year seenand recognised as the same individual who had appeared in Hamburg, annoMDLXVI. The common people, bold in spreading reports, relate many thingsof him; and this I allude to, lest anything should be left unsaid. "

J. C. Bulenger puts the date of the Hamburg visit earlier. "It wasreported at this time that a Jew of the time of Christ was wanderingwithout food and drink, having for a thousand and odd years been avagabond and outcast, condemned by God to rove, because he, of thatgeneration of vipers, was the first to cry out for the crucifixion ofChrist and the release of Barabbas; and also because soon after, whenChrist, panting under the burden of the rood, sought to rest before hisworkshop (he was a cobbler), the fellow ordered Him off with acerbity. Thereupon Christ replied, 'Because thou grudgest Me such a moment ofrest, I shall enter into My rest, but thou shalt wander restless. ' Atonce, frantic and agitated, he fled through the whole earth, and on thesame account to this day he journeys through the world. It was thisperson who was seen in Hamburg in MDLXIV. Credat Judaeus Apella! I didnot see him, or hear anything authentic concerning him, at that timewhen I was in Paris. "

A curious little book, written against the quackery of Paracelsus, byLeonard Doldius, a Nurnberg physician, and translated into Latin andaugmented, by Andreas Libavius, doctor and physician of Rotenburg, alludes to the same story, and gives the Jew a new name nowhere else metwith. After having referred to a report that Paracelsus was not dead, but was seated alive, asleep or napping, in his sepulchre at Strasburg, preserved from death by some of his specifics, Labavius declares that hewould sooner believe in the old man, the Jew, Ahasverus, wandering overthe world, called by some Buttadaeus, and otherwise, again, by others. 

He is said to have appeared in Naumburg, but the date is not given; hewas noticed in church, listening to the sermon. After the service he wasquestioned, and he related his story. On this occasion he receivedpresents from the burgers. In 1633 he was again in Hamburg. In the year1640, two citizens, living in the Gerberstrasse, in Brussels, werewalking in the Sonian wood, when they encountered an aged man, whoseclothes were in tatters and of an antiquated appearance. They invitedhim to go with them to a house of refreshment, and he went with them, but would not seat himself, remaining on foot to drink. When he camebefore the doors with the two burgers, he told them a great deal; butthey were mostly stories of events which had happened many hundred yearsbefore. Hence the burgers gathered that their companion was IsaacLaquedem, the Jew who had refused to permit our Blessed Lord to rest fora moment at his door-step, and they left him full of terror. In 1642 heis reported to have visited Leipzig. On the 22d July, 1721, he appearedat the gates of the city of Munich. About the end of the seventeenthcentury or the beginning of the eighteenth, an impostor, calling himselfthe Wandering Jew, attracted attention in England, and was listened toby the ignorant, and despised by the educated. He, however, managed tothrust himself into the notice of the nobility, who, half in jest, halfin curiosity, questioned him, and paid him as they might a juggler. Hedeclared that he had been an officer of the Sanhedrim, and that he hadstruck Christ as he left the judgment hall of Pilate. He remembered allthe Apostles, and described their personal appearance, their clothes, and their peculiarities. He spoke many languages, claimed the power ofhealing the sick and asserted that he had travelled nearly all over theworld. Those who heard him were perplexed by his familiarity withforeign tongues and places. Oxford and Cambridge sent professors toquestion him, and to discover the imposition, if any. An Englishnobleman conversed with him in Arabic. The mysterious stranger told hisquestioner in that language that historical works were not to be reliedupon. And on being asked his opinion of Mahomet, he replied that he hadbeen acquainted with the father of the prophet, and that he dwelt atOrmuz. As for Mahomet, he believed him to have been a man ofintelligence; once when he heard the prophet deny that Christ wascrucified, he answered abruptly by telling him he was a witness to thetruth of that event. He related also that he was in Rome when Nero setit on fire; he had known Saladin, Tamerlane, Bajazeth, Eterlane, andcould give minute details of the history of the Crusades. 

Whether this wandering Jew was found out in London or not, we cannottell, but he shortly after appeared in Denmark, thence travelled intoSweden, and vanished. 

CHAPTER XIII

KING ROBERT OF SICILY

 Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Apparelled in magnificent attire, With retinue of many a knight and squire, On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat And heard the priests chant the Magnificat. And as he listened, o'er and o'er again Repeated, like a burden or refrain, He caught the words, "_Deposuit potentes De sede, et exaltavit humiles_"; And slowly lifting up his kingly head He to a learned clerk beside him said, "What mean these words?" The clerk made answer meet, "He has put down the mighty from their seat, And has exalted them of low degree. " Thereat King Robert muttered scornfully, "'T is well that such seditious words are sung Only by priests and in the Latin tongue; For unto priests and people be it known, There is no power can push me from my throne!" And leaning back, he yawned and fell asleep, Lulled by the chant monotonous and deep. When he awoke, it was already night; The church was empty, and there was no light, Save where the lamps, that glimmered few and faint, Lighted a little space before some saint. He started from his seat and gazed around, But saw no living thing and heard no sound. He groped toward the door, but it was locked; He cried aloud, and listened, and knocked, And uttered awful threatenings and complaints, And imprecations upon men and saints. The sounds reechoed from the roof and walls As if dead priests were laughing in their stalls. 

 At length the sexton, hearing from without The tumult of the knocking and the shout, And thinking thieves were in the house or prayer, Came with his lantern, asking, "Who is there?" Half choked with rage, King Robert fiercely said, "Open:'tis I, the King! Art thou afraid?" The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse, "This is some drunken vagabond, or worse!" Turned the great key and flung the portal wide; A man rushed by him at a single stride, Haggard, half naked, without hat or cloak, Who neither turned, nor looked at him, nor spoke, But leaped into the blackness of the night, And vanished like a spectre from his sight. 

 Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Despoiled of his magnificent attire, Bareheaded, breathless, and besprent with mire, With sense of wrong and outrage desperate, Strode on and thundered at the palace gate;

 Rushed through the courtyard, thrusting in his rage To right and left each seneschal and page, And hurried up the broad and sounding stair, His white face ghastly in the torches' glare. From hall to hall he passed with breathless speed; Voices and cries he heard, but did not heed, Until at last he reached the banquet-room, Blazing with light, and breathing with perfume. 

 There on the dais sat another king, Wearing his robes, his crown, his signet-ring, King Robert's self in features, form, and height, But all transfigured with angelic light! It was an Angel; and his presence there With a divine effulgence rilled the air, An exaltation, piercing the disguise, Though none the hidden Angel recognised. 

 A moment speechless, motionless, amazed, The throneless monarch on the Angel gazed, Who met his look of anger and surprise With the divine compassion of his eyes; Then said, "Who art thou? and why com'st thou here?" To which King Robert answered with a sneer, "I am the King, and come to claim my own From an impostor, who usurps my throne!" And suddenly, at these audacious words, Up sprang the angry guests, and drew their swords; The Angel answered, with unruffled brow, "Nay, not the King, but the King's Jester, thou

 Henceforth shalt wear the bells and scalloped cape, And for thy counsellor shalt lead an ape; Thou shalt obey my servants when they call, And wait upon my henchmen in the hall!"

 Deaf to King Robert's threats and cries and prayers, They thrust him from the hall and down the stairs; A group of tittering pages ran before, And as they opened wide the folding-door, His heart failed, for he heard, with strange alarms, The boisterous laughter of the men-at-arms, And all the vaulted chamber roar and ring With the mock plaudits of "Long live the King!"

 Next morning, waking with the day's first beam, He said within himself, "It was a dream!" But the straw rustled as he turned his head, There were the cap and bells beside his bed, Around him rose the bare, discolored walls, Close by, the steeds were champing in their stalls, And in the corner, a revolting shape, Shivering and chattering sat the wretched ape. It was no dream; the world he loved so much Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch!

 Days came and went; and now returned again To Sicily the old Saturnian reign; Under the Angel's governance benign The happy island danced with corn and wine, And deep within the mountain's burning breast Enceladus, the giant, was at rest. 

 Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate, Sullen and silent and disconsolate. Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear, With look bewildered and a vacant stare, Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn, By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn, His only friend the ape, his only food What others left--he still was unsubdued. And when the Angel met him on his way, And half in earnest, half in jest, would say, Sternly, though tenderly, that he might feel The velvet scabbard held a sword of steel, "Art thou the King?" the passion of his woe Burst from him in resistless overflow And, lifting high his forehead he, would fling The haughty answer back, "I am, I am the King!"

 Almost three years were ended; when there came Ambassadors of great repute and name From Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Unto King Robert, saying that Pope Urbane By letter summoned them forthwith to come On Holy Thursday to his city of Rome. The Angel with great joy received his guests, And gave them presents of embroidered vests, And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined, And rings and jewels of the rarest kind. Then he departed with them o'er the sea Into the lovely land of Italy, Whose loveliness was more resplendent made By the mere passing of that cavalcade, With plumes, and cloaks, and housings, and the stir Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur. And lo! among the menials, in mock state, Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait, His cloak of fox-tails flapping in the wind, The solemn ape demurely perched behind, King Robert rode, making huge merriment In all the country towns through which they went. 

 The Pope received them with great pomp and blare Of bannered trumpets, on Saint Peter's square, Giving his benediction and embrace, Fervent, and full of apostolic grace. While with congratulations and with prayers He entertained the Angel unawares, Robert, the Jester, bursting through the crowd, Into their presence rushed, and cried aloud, "I am the King! Look, and behold in me Robert, your brother, King of Sicily! This man, who wears my semblance to your eyes, Is an impostor in a king's disguise. Do you not know me? does no voice within Answer my cry, and say we are akin?" The Pope in silence, but with troubled mien, Gazed at the Angel's countenance serene; The Emperor, laughing, said, "It is strange sport To keep a madman for thy Fool at court!" And the poor, baffled Jester in disgrace Was hustled back among the populace. In solemn state the Holy Week went by, And Easter Sunday gleamed upon the sky; The presence of the Angel, with its light, Before the sun rose, made the city bright, And with new fervour filled the hearts of men, Who felt that Christ indeed had risen again. Even the Jester, on his bed of straw, With haggard eyes the unwonted splendour saw, He felt within a power unfelt before, And, kneeling humbly on his chamber-floor, He heard the rushing garments of the Lord Sweep through the silent air, ascending heavenward. 

 And now the visit ending, and once more Valmond returning to the Danube's shore, Homeward the Angel journeyed, and again The land was made resplendent with his train, Flashing along the towns of Italy Unto Salerno, and from thence by sea. And when once more within Palermo's wall, And, seated on the throne in his great hall, He heard the Angelus from convent towers, As if the better world conversed with ours, He beckoned to King Robert to draw nigher, And with a gesture bade the rest retire; And when they were alone, the Angel said, "Art thou the King?" Then, bowing down his head, King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast, And meekly answered him: "Thou knowest best! My sins as scarlet are; let me go hence, And in some cloister's school of penitence, Across those stones, that pave the way to heaven, Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul be shriven!"

 The Angel smiled, and from his radiant face A holy light illumined all the place, And through the open window, loud and clear, They heard the monks chant in the chapel near, Above the stir and tumult of the street: "He has put down the mighty from their seat, And has exalted them of low degree!" And through the chant a second melody Rose like the throbbing of a single string: "I am an Angel, and thou art the King!"

 King Robert, who was standing near the throne, Lifted his eyes, and lo! he was alone! But all apparelled as in days of old, With ermined mantle and with cloth of gold; And when his courtiers came, they found him there Kneeling upon the floor, absorbed in silent prayer. 

INTERLUDE

 And then the blue-eyed Norseman told A Saga of the days of old. "There is, " said he, "a wondrous book Of Legends in the old Norse tongue, Of the dead kings of Norroway-- Legends that once were told or sung In many a smoky fireside nook Of Iceland, in the ancient day, By wandering Saga-man or Scald; 'Heimskringla' is the volume called; And he who looks may find therein The story that I now begin. "

 And in each pause the story made Upon his violin he played, As an appropriate interlude, Fragments of old Norwegian tunes That bound in one the separate runes, And held the mind in perfect mood, Entwining and encircling all The strange and antiquated rhymes With melodies of olden times; As over some half-ruined wall, Disjointed and about to fall, Fresh woodbines climb and interlace, And keep the loosened stones in place. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE BEATO TORELLO DA POPPI

In that time in which the portion of Tuscany called Casentino was notyet subject to the Florentines, but was ruled by its own counts, in thelands of Poppi, an important place in that valley through which runs theriver Arno, and not far from its source, a son was born to a certaingood man named Paolo, to whom he gave the name of Torello, and whom, when a suitable age, he not only taught to fear God, and to lead aChristian life, but sent to school, that he might learn the firstprinciples of letters--which he soon did--and to avoid evil companionsand imitate the good. The young Torello, being accustomed to this life, and his father dying, for some time proceeded from good to better. 

But that not pleasing our common enemy, who always goes about seekingwhom he may devour, he so tempted Torello--God permitting it, for futureand greater good--that he abandoned a virtuous life, and gave himself tothe pursuit of the pleasures of the world; so that instead of beingpraised for his blameless and religious life, he was censured by all, and had become the very opposite of what he had at first been. 

But the blessed Lord--who had never abandoned him, though He had lefthim to wander, in order to permit him to become a true mirror ofpenitence--called him to himself in this manner; as he was one daywandering and seeking amusement with his idle companions, a cock thatwas on a perch outside a window suddenly fell, and alighted on hisshoulder, and crowed three times, and then flew back to the perch. Torello, calling to mind how the Apostle Peter had in a similar mannerbeen made to gee his guilt, awaked from his sleep of vice and sin in astate of wonder and fear; and thinking that this could have happenedonly by divine Providence, and to show him that he was in the power ofthe devil, left his companions instantly, and in penitence and tearssought the Abbot of Poppi, of the order of Vallombrosa; and commendinghimself to his prayers, threw himself at his feet, humbly begging forthe robe of a mendicant friar, since he desired to serve God in thehumblest manner. The abbot wondered much, knowing by common reportTorello to be a youth of most incorrect life, to see him thus kneelingin contrition before him, and endeavoured, together with the monks, topersuade him to take their habit of St. John Gualberto. But at last, seeing he had no heart for it, and remained constant to his firstrequest, he at last granted it; and he became a poor brother, and almosta desert hermit, for having received the benediction of the abbot, without communicating with either his family or friends, he left thatcountry and took his way toward the most desert and savage places of themountains, wandering among them for eight days, and passing the nightwherever it chanced to overtake him. But having at last come to a greatrock, near a place called Avellanato, he remained there, adopting it fora cell eight days more, weeping for his sins, praying, and imploring Godto pardon him; living all this time on three small loaves, which he hadbrought with him, and on wild herbs like the animals; and being muchpleased with the place, he determined to make a cell under that greatrock, and there spend all the days of this life, serving God with fasts, vigils, discipline, and prayers, and bitterly lamenting his past sinsand evil life. 

Having taken this resolution, he went to his own country to put hisaffairs in order; and all his relatives and friends came about him, praying him with much earnestness, if he sought to serve God, to leavethis life of a wild beast and join some order, living like other monks. But all was of no avail; and selling all his goods, he gave the price tothe poor, reserving to himself only a small sum of money to build acell. And he returned to his solitude with a mason, who made for him amiserable cell under that same rock; and he bought near it enough landfor a small garden, and there established himself, practising the mostsevere austerities. 

Having now spoken of the penitence and life of the Beato Torello, wemust make mention of the great gifts and grace which he received fromGod during his life, and which were often granted to him in behalf ofthose who commended themselves to him in faith and devotion. 

A poor woman of Poppi, who had only one son, three years old, going tothe spring to wash her clothes, took him with her; and he having strayedfrom her a little way while she was washing, a savage wolf seized himand carried him away, and the poor woman's shrieks could be heard almostat Poppi, while she could do nothing but commend the child to God. Whilethe wolf was escaping with his prey between his teeth, he came, as itpleased God--who thus began to make known the reward of his service--tothe cell of the Beato Torello; who, when he saw this, instantly orderedthe wolf, in God's name, to lay the child on the ground, safe and sound;which command the wolf no sooner heard than he came to him immediately, and laid the child at his feet. And after he had, with evident humility, received the directions of the holy father, that neither he, nor any ofthe wolves his companions, should do any harm to any person of thatcountry, he departed, and returned to the forest; and the servant of Godtook the half-dead child into his cell, where he made a prayer to theLord, and he was immediately healed of the wounds the wolf's teeth hadmade in his throat. And when his mother came seeking him with greatlamentation and sorrow, he graciously restored him to her alive andwell, but with the command that while he lived she should never revealthis miracle. 

Carlo, Count of Poppi, being very fond of the Beato Torello, sent him byhis steward, one evening in Carnival, a basket full of provisions, praying the good father to accept it for love of him. The steward alsocarried him many other gifts, which some good ladies, knowing where hewas going, took the opportunity to send by his hand. 

Having arrived at the cell, he presented them all to the padre, whothanked him much, and returned him the empty baskets; when he tookoccasion to enquire, how he, being alone, could possibly eat so much inone evening. And Torello, seeing that the steward thought him a greateater, answered: "I am not alone, as you suppose; my companion will comefrom the woods before long, who has a great appetite, and he will helpme. " And the steward, hearing this, hid himself in the wood not far fromthe hermitage, to see who this could be who the padre said had such afine appetite. He had not waited long when he saw a great wolf gostraight to the door of the saint's cell, who opened it for him, and fedhim until he had devoured everything that the steward had brought; andhe then began to caress the saint, as a faithful and affectionate dogwould his master; and this he continued to do until Torello gave himpermission to go, and reminded him that neither he, nor any of hiscompanions, should do any harm to the people of that place until theywere at such a distance as to be out of hearing of the bell of themonastery, which the wolf promised to do and obey, by bowing his head. The servant, having seen and heard this, returned home, and related itto the count and the others, to their great amazement. 

There was a lady of Bologna, named Vittoriana, who made a pilgrimage tothe holy place in Vernia, where the glorious St. Francis received thestigmata; and there her two children fell ill with a violent anddangerous fever; and being, in consequence, much distressed andafflicted, she consulted with some ladies from Poppi, whose devotion hadalso brought them to the same place, who advised her to take herchildren, as soon as possible, to the blessed Torello, and commend themto him, that by means of his prayers God would restore their health. Andgoing to him, she commended them to him with faith and tears and hopebeyond the power of words to describe. And truly it was not in vain; forthe holy man, who was most pitiful, kneeled down and prayed to the Lordfor her and her children as only the true servants of God pray; andhaving so done, he took some water from the spring of which he usuallydrank and gave it to the children, and they were entirely cured anddelivered from that fever. And what is more, the water of that fountainis to this day called the fountain of St. Torello, and is a sovereignremedy against every kind of fever to those who drink of it, asexperience has testified and still testifies. 

But at last, in the year of our salvation twelve hundred and eighty-two, the saint having reached the eightieth year of his life, and spent themall in the service of God--many of his good works being unknown--anangel brought him this message: "Rejoice, Torello, for the time is comewhen thou shalt receive the crown of glory thou hast so long desired, and the reward in paradise of ail thy labour in the service of God; forthirty days from this time, on the sixteenth of March, thou shalt bedelivered from the prison of this world. "

The blessed Torello, having heard this, continued all his devoutexercises until the end, which approaching, he went to the abbot andconfessed his sins for the last time, and received the holy communionfrom his hands; and they embraced each other, and he returned to hishermitage. And he took leave of one of his disciples, named Pietro, andexhorted him to persevere in God's service; and having with manyaffectionate prayers recommended his country and the people of it to theblessing of God, praying especially that it should not be ravaged bywolves, he departed in peace. 

And all the people of the parishes around, hearing of his death, hastened to the hermitage; and all desiring that his holy body shouldrepose in their church, a great controversy arose, and much scandalwould have ensued, had not the Abbot of Poppi passed into the midst ofthem and convinced them it was the will of God it should be laid in hismonastery; to which they all finally agreed. And a wonderful andmiraculous event occurred; for while they were all standing around theholy body, a wolf came in with a little pig in his mouth, and passingthrough them without fear, placed it at the foot of the bier, and wentaway. 

CHAPTER XV

THE LORELEI

 I know not whence it rises, This thought so full of woe: But a tale of the times departed Haunts me--and will not go. 

 The air is cool, and it darkens, And calmly flows the Rhine; The mountain peaks are sparkling In the sunny evening-shine. 

 And yonder sits a maiden, The fairest of the fair; With gold is her garment glittering, And she combs her golden hair. 

 With a golden comb she combs it, And a wild song singeth she, That melts the heart with a wondrous And powerful melody. 

 The boatman feels his bosom With a nameless longing move; He sees not the gulfs before him, His gaze is fixed above. 

 Till over boat and boatman The Rhine's deep waters run; And this with her magic singing The Lorelei hath done!

CHAPTER XVI

THE PASSING OF ARTHUR

 So all day long the noise of battle roll'd Among the mountains by the winter sea. Until King Arthur's Table, man by man, Had fall'n in Lyonnesse about their Lord, King Arthur. Then, because his wound was deep, The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him, And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross. That stood on a dark strait of barren land: On one side lay the Ocean, and on one Lay a great water, and the moon was full. 

 Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: "The sequel of to-day unsolders all The goodliest fellowship of famous knights Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep They sleep--the men I loved. I think that we Shall never more, at any future time, Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls Of Camelot, as in the days that were. I perish by this people which I made-- Tho' Merlin sware that I should come again To rule once more; but, let what will be, be, I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm That without help I cannot last till morn. 

 Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, Which was my pride: for thou rememberest how In those old days, one summer noon, an arm Rose up from out the bosom of the lake, Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, Holding the sword--and how I row'd across And took it, and have worn it, like a king; And, wheresoever I am sung or told In aftertime, this also shall be known: But now delay not: take Excalibur, And fling him far into the middle mere: Watch what thou seest and lightly bring me word. " To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere: "It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus, Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm-- A little thing may harm a wounded man; Yet I thy hest will all perform at full, Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word. " So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he stept, And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men, Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake. There drew he forth the brand Excalibur, And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt: For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work Of subtlest jewellery. He gazed so long That both his eyes were dazzled, as he stood, This way and that dividing the swift mind, In act to throw: but at the last it seem'd Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd There in the many-knotted water flags, That whistled stiff and dry about the marge. So strode he back slow to the wounded King. Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: "Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave? What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, And the wild water lapping on the crag. " To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale: "Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name, Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight: For surer sign had followed either hand, Or voice, or else a motion of the mere. This is a shameful thing for men to lie. Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again, As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word. " Then went Sir Bedivere the second time Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere, Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in thought; But when he saw the wonder of the hilt, How curiously and strangely chased, he smote His palms together, and he cried aloud: "And if indeed I cast the brand away, Surely a precious thing, one worthy note, Should thus be lost forever from the earth, Which might have pleased the eyes of many men. What good should follow this, if this were done?

 What harm, undone? Deep harm to disobey, Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. Were it well to obey then, if a king demand An act unprofitable, against himself? The King is sick, and knows not what he does. What record, or what relic of my lord Should be to aftertime, but empty breath And rumours of a doubt? but were this kept, Stored in some treasure-house of mighty kings, Some one might show it at a joust of arms, Saying, 'King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake. Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps Upon the hidden bases of the hills. ' So might some old man speak in the aftertime To all the people, winning reverence. But now much honour and much fame were lost. " So spake he, clouded with his own conceit, And hid Excalibur the second time, And so strode back slow to the wounded King. Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily: "What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds. " To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath: "Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue, Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me! Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widow'd of the power in his eye That bow'd the will. I see thee what thou art, For thou, the latest-left of all my knights, In whom should meet the offices of all, Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt; Either from lust of gold, or like a girl Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes. Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice, And the third time may prosper, get thee hence: But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, I will arise and slay thee with my hands. " Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran, And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged Among the bulrush beds, and clutch'd the sword, And strongly wheel'd and threw it. The great brand Made lightings in the splendour of the moon, And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch, Shot like a streamer of the northern morn, Seen where the moving isles of winter shock By night with noises of the Northern Sea. So flashed and fell the brand Excalibur: But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him Three times, and drew him under in the mere. And lightly went the other to the King. Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath: "Now see I by thine eyes that this is done. Speak out: what is it thou hast heard, or seen?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems Should blind my purpose, for I never saw, Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die, Not tho' I live three lives of mortal men, So great a miracle as yonder hilt. Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him; But when I look'd again, beheld an arm, Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. That caught him by the hilt, and brandished him Three times, and drew him under In the mere. " And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard: "My end draws nigh;'tis time that I were gone. Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight, And bear me to the margin; yet I fear My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die. " So saying, from the pavement he half rose, Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm, And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere Remorsefully regarded thro' his tears, And would have spoken, but he found not word; Then took with care, and kneeling on one knee, O'er both his shoulders drew the languid hands, And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs. But, as he walk'd, King Arthur panted hard, Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the King, Muttering and murmuring at his ear, "Quick, quick! I fear it is too late, and I shall die. " But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge, Clothed with his breath, and looking, as he walk'd, Larger than human on the frozen hills. He heard the deep behind him, and a cry Before. His own thought drove him like a goad. Dry clashed his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels-- And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon. Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge, Dark as a funeral scarf from stern to stern, Beneath them; and descending they were ware That all the decks were dense with stately forms, Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream--by these Three Queens with crowns of gold: and from them rose A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars, And, as it were one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes Or hath come, since the making of the world. Then murmur'd Arthur, "Place me in the barge. " So to the barge they came. There those three Queens Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept. But she, that rose the tallest of them all And fairest, laid his head upon her lap, And loosed the shatter'd casque, and chafed his hands, And call'd him by his name, complaining loud, And dropping bitter tears against a brow Striped with dark blood: for all his face was white And colourless, and like the withered moon Smote by the fresh beam of the springing east; And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd with drops Of onset; and the light and lustrous curls-- That made his forehead like a rising sun High from the dias-throne--were parch'd with dust; Or, clotted into points and hanging loose, Mix'd with the knightly growth that fringed his lips. So like a shatter'd column lay the King; Not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest, From spur to plume a star of tournament, Shot thro' the lists of Camelot, and charged

 Before the eyes of ladles and of kings, Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere: "Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead, When every morning brought a noble chance, And every chance brought out a noble knight. Such times have been not since the light that led The holy Elders with the gift of myrrh. But now the whole Round Table is dissolved Which was an image of the mighty world, And, I the last, go forth companionless, And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds. " And slowly answered Arthur from the barge: "The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me? I have lived my life, and that which I have done May He within himself make pure! but thou, If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou seest-if indeed I go

 (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) To the island-valley of Avilion; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea. Where I will heal me of my grievous wound. " So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. But when that moan had past for evermore, The stillness of the dead world's winter dawn Amazed him, and he groan'd, "The King is gone. " And therewithal came on him the weird rhyme, "From the great deep to the great deep he goes"

 Whereat he slowly turn'd and slowly clomb The last hard footstep of that iron crag; Thence mark'd the black hull moving yet, and cried, "He passes to be King among the dead, And after healing of his grievous wound He comes again; but--if he come no more-- O me, be yon dark Queens in yon black boat, Who shriek'd and wail'd, the three whereat we gazed On that high day, when, clothed with living light, They stood before his throne in silence, friends Of Arthur, who should help him at his need?"

 Then from the dawn it seem'd there came, but faint As from beyond the limit of the world, Like the last echo born of a great cry, Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice Around a king returning from his wars. 

 Thereat once more he moved about, and clomb Ev'n to the highest he could climb, and saw, Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand, Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the King, Down that long water opening on the deep Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go From less to less and vanish into light. And the new sun rose bringing the new year. 

CHAPTER XVII

RIP VAN WINKLE

The following tale was found among the papers of the late DiedrichKnickerbocker, an old gentleman of New York, who was very curious in theDutch history of the province, and the manners of the descendants fromits primitive settlers. His historical researches, however, did not lieso much among books as among men; for the former are lamentably scantyon his favourite topics; whereas he found the old burghers, and stillmore their wives, rich in that legendary lore so invaluable to truehistory. Whenever, therefore, he happened upon a genuine Dutch family, snugly shut up in its low-roofed farmhouse under a spreading sycamore, he looked upon it as a little clasped volume of black-letter, andstudied it with the zeal of a book worm. 

The result of all these researches was a history of the province duringthe reign of the Dutch governors, which he published some years since. There have been various opinions as to the literary character of hiswork, and, to tell the truth, it is not a whit better than it should be. Its chief merit is its scrupulous accuracy, which indeed was a littlequestioned on its first appearance, but has since been completelyestablished; and it is now admitted into all historical collections, asa book of unquestionable authority. 

The old gentleman died shortly after the publication of his work, andnow that he is dead and gone, it cannot do much harm to his memory tosay that his time might have been much better employed in weightierlabours. He, however, was apt to ride his hobby his own way; and thoughit did now and then kick up the dust a little in the eyes of hisneighbours, and grieve the spirit of some friends, for whom he felt thetruest deference and affection; yet his errors and follies areremembered "more in sorrow than in anger, " and it begins to be suspectedthat he never intended to injure or offend. But however his memory maybe appreciated by critics, it is still held dear by many folk, whosegood opinion is worth having; particularly by certain biscuit-bakers, who have gone so far as to imprint his likeness on their new-year cakes;and have thus given him a chance for immortality, almost equal to thebeing stamped on a Waterloo Medal, or a Queen Anne's farthing. 

Whoever has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the KaatskillMountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachianfamily, and are seen away to the west of the river, swelling up to anoble height, and lording it over the surrounding country. Every changeof season, every change of weather, indeed, every hour of the day, produces some change in the magical hues and shapes of these mountains, and they are regarded by all the good wives, far and near, as perfectbarometers. When the weather is fair and settled, they are clothed inblue and purple, and print their bold outlines on the clear evening sky;but sometimes when the rest of the landscape is cloudless they willgather a hood of gray vapours about their summits, which, in the lastrays of the setting sun, will glow and light up like a crown of glory. 

At the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have descried thelight smoke curling up from a village, whose shingle-roofs gleam amongthe trees, just where the blue tints of the upland melt away into thefresh green of the nearer landscape. It is a little village of greatantiquity, having been founded by some of the Dutch colonists in theearly time of the province, just about the beginning of the governmentof the good Peter Stuyvesant (may he rest in peace!) and there were someof the houses of the original settlers standing within a few years, built of small yellow bricks brought from Holland, having latticedwindows and gable fronts, surmounted with weathercocks. 

In that same village, and in one of these very houses (which, to tellthe precise truth, was sadly time-worn and weather-beaten), there livedmany years since, while the country was yet a province of Great Britain, a simple, good-natured fellow, of the name of Rip Van Winkle. He was adescendant of the Van Winkles who figured so gallantly in the chivalrousdays of Peter Stuyvesant, and accompanied him to the siege of FortChristina. He inherited, however, but little of the martial character ofhis ancestors. I have observed that he was a simple, good-natured man;he was, moreover, a kind neighbour, and an obedient hen-pecked husband. Indeed, to the latter circumstance might be owing that meekness ofspirit which gained him such universal popularity; for those men aremost apt to be obsequious and conciliating abroad, who are under thediscipline of shrews at home. Their tempers, doubtless, are renderedpliant and malleable in the fiery furnace of domestic tribulation; and acurtain lecture is worth all the sermons in the world for teaching thevirtues of patience and long-suffering. A termagant wife may, therefore, in some respects be considered a tolerable blessing, and if so, Rip VanWinkle was thrice blessed. 

Certain it is, that he was a great favourite among all the good wives ofthe village, who, as usual with the amiable sex, took his part in allfamily squabbles; and never failed, whenever they talked those mattersover in their evening gossipings, to lay all the blame on Dame VanWinkle. The children of the village, too, would shout with joy wheneverhe approached. He assisted at their sports, made their playthings, taught them to fly kites and shoot marbles, and told them long storiesof ghosts, witches, and Indians. Whenever he went dodging about thevillage, he was surrounded by a troop of them, hanging on his skirts, clambering on his back, and playing a thousand tricks on him, withimpunity; and not a dog would bark at him throughout the neighbourhood. 

The great error in Rip's composition was an insuperable aversion to allkinds of profitable labour. It could not be from the want of assiduityor perseverance; for he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long andheavy as a Tartar's lance, and fish all day without a murmur, eventhough he should not be encouraged by a single nibble. He would carry afowling-piece on his shoulder for hours together, trudging through woodsand swamps, and up hill and down dale, to shoot a few squirrels or wildpigeons. He would never refuse to assist a neighbour, even in theroughest toil, and was a foremost man at all country frolics for huskingIndian corn, or building stone-fences; the women of the village, too, used to employ him to run their errands, and to do such little odd jobsas their less obliging husband^ would not do for them. In a word, Ripwas ready to attend to anybody's business but his own; but as to doingfamily duty, and keeping his farm in order, he found it impossible. 

In fact, he declared it was of no use to work on his farm; it was themost pestilent little piece of ground in the whole country; everythingabout it went wrong, and would go wrong, in spite of him. His fenceswere continually falling to pieces; his cow would either go astray orget among the cabbages; weeds were sure to grow quicker in his fieldsthan any where else; the rain always made a point of setting in just ashe had some out-door work to do; so that though his patrimonial estatehad dwindled away under his management, acre by acre, until there waslittle more left than a mere patch of Indian corn and potatoes, yet itwas the worst-conditioned farm in the neighbourhood. 

His children, too, were as ragged and wild as if they belonged tonobody. His son Rip, an urchin begotten in his own likeness, promised toinherit the habits, with the old clothes of his father. He was generallyseen trooping like a colt at his mother's heels, equipped in a pair ofhis father's cast-off galligaskins, which he had much ado to hold upwith one hand, as a fine lady does her train in bad weather. 

Rip Van Winkle, however, was one of those happy mortals, of foolish, well-oiled dispositions, who take the world easy, eat white bread orbrown, whichever can be got with least thought or trouble, and wouldrather starve on a penny than work for a pound. If left to himself; hewould have whistled life away in perfect contentment; but his wife keptcontinually dinning in his ears about his idleness, his carelessness, and the ruin he was bringing on his family. Morning, noon, and night hertongue was incessantly going, and everything he said or did was sure toproduce a torrent of household eloquence. Rip had but one way ofreplying to all lectures of the kind, and that, by frequent use, hadgrown into a habit. He shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, cast uphis eyes, but said nothing. This, however, always provoked a freshvolley from his wife; so that he was fain to draw off his forces, andtake to the outside of the house--the only side which, in truth, belongs to a henpecked husband. 

Rip's sole domestic adherent was his dog Wolf, who was as much henpeckedas his master; for Dame Van Winkle regarded them as companions inidleness, and even looked upon Wolf with an evil eye, as the cause ofhis master's going so often astray. True it is, in all points of spiritbefitting an honourable dog, he was as courageous an animal as everscoured the woods--but what courage can withstand the ever-during andall-besetting terrors of a woman's tongue? The moment Wolf entered thehouse his crest fell, his tail drooped to the ground, or curled betweenhis legs, he sneaked about with a gallows air, casting many a sidelongglance at Dame Van Winkle, and at the least flourish of a broomstick orladle he would fly to the door with yelping precipitation. 

Times grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle as years of matrimonyrolled on; a tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue isthe only edged tool that grows keener with constant use. For a longwhile he used to console himself, when driven from home, by frequentinga kind of perpetual club of the sages, philosophers, and other idlepersonages of the village; which held its sessions on a bench before asmall inn, designated by a rubicund portrait of His Majesty George theThird. Here they used to sit in the shade through a long lazy summer'sday, talking listlessly over village gossip, or telling endless, sleepystories about nothing. But it would have been worth any statesman'smoney to have heard the profound discussions that sometimes took place, when by chance an old newspaper fell into their hands from some passingtraveller. How solemnly they would listen to the contents, as drawledout by Derrick Van Bummel, the school-master, a dapper learned littleman, who was not to be daunted by the most gigantic word in thedictionary; and how sagely they would deliberate upon public events somemonths after they had taken place. 

The opinions of this junto were completely controlled by NicholasVedder, a patriarch of the village, and landlord of the inn, at the doorof which he took his seat from morning till night, just movingsufficiently to avoid the sun and keep in the shade of a large tree; sothat the neighbours could tell the hour by his movements as accuratelyas by a sun-dial. It is true he was rarely heard to speak, but smokedhis pipe incessantly. His adherents however (for every great man has hisadherents), perfectly understood him, and knew how to gather hisopinions. When anything that was read or related displeased him, he wasobserved to smoke his pipe vehemently, and to send forth short, frequentand angry puffs; but when pleased, he would inhale the smoke slowly andtranquilly, and emit it in light and placid clouds; and sometimes, taking the pipe from his mouth, and letting the fragrant vapour curlabout his nose, would gravely nod his head in token of perfectapprobation. 

From even this stronghold the unlucky Rip was at length routed by histermagant wife, who would suddenly break in upon the tranquillity of theassemblage and call the members all to naught; nor was that augustpersonage, Nicholas Vedder himself, sacred from the daring tongue ofthis terrible virago, who charged him outright with encouraging herhusband in habits of idleness. 

Poor Rip was at last reduced almost to despair; and his onlyalternative, to escape from the labour of the farm and clamour of hiswife, was to take gun in hand and stroll away into the woods. Here hewould sometimes seat himself at the foot of a tree, and share thecontents of his wallet with Wolf, with whom he sympathised as afellow-sufferer in persecution. "Poor Wolf, " he would say, "thy mistressleads thee a dog's life of it; but never mind, my lad, whilst I livethou shalt never want a friend to stand by thee!" Wolf would wag histail, look wistfully in his master's face, and if dogs can feel pity Iverily believe he reciprocated the sentiment with all his heart. 

In a long ramble of the kind on a fine autumnal day, Rip hadunconsciously scrambled to one of the highest parts of the KaatskillMountains. He was after his favourite sport squirrel shooting, and thestill solitudes had echoed and reechoed with the reports of his gun. Panting and fatigued, he threw himself, late in the afternoon, on agreen knoll, covered with mountain herbage, that crowned the brow of aprecipice. From an opening between the trees he could overlook all thelower country for many a mile of rich woodland. He saw at a distance thelordly Hudson, far, far below him, moving on its silent but majesticcourse, with the reflection of a purple cloud, or the sail of a laggingbark, here and there sleeping on its glassy bosom, and at last losingitself in the blue highlands. 

On the other side he looked down into a deep mountain glen, wild, lonely, and shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the impendingcliffs, and scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting sun. For some time Rip lay musing on this scene; evening was graduallyadvancing; the mountains began to throw their long blue shadows over thevalleys; he saw that it would be dark long before he could reach thevillage, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering theterrors of Dame Van Winkle. 

As he was about to descend, he heard a voice from a distance, hallooing, "Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!" He looked round, but could see nothingbut a crow winging its solitary flight across the mountain. He thoughthis fancy must have deceived him, and turned again to descend, when heheard the same cry ring through the still evening air: "Rip Van Winkle!Rip Van Winkle!"--at the same time Wolf bristled up his back, and givinga low growl, skulked to his master's side, looking fearfully down intothe glen. Rip now felt a vague apprehension stealing over him; he lookedanxiously in the same direction, and perceived a strange figure slowlytoiling up the rocks, and bending under the weight of something hecarried on his back. He was surprised to see any human being in thislonely and unfrequented place; but supposing it to be some one of theneighbourhood in need of his assistance, he hastened down to yield it. 

On nearer approach he was still more surprised at the singularity of thestranger's appearance. He was a short, square-built old fellow, withthick bushy hair, and a grizzled beard. His dress was of the antiqueDutch fashion: a cloth jerkin strapped round the waist, several pair ofbreeches, the outer one of ample volume, decorated with rows of buttonsdown the sides, and bunches at the knees. He bore on his shoulder astout keg, that seemed full of liquor, and made signs for Rip toapproach and assist him with the load. Though rather shy and distrustfulof this new acquaintance, Rip complied with his usual alacrity; andmutually relieving one another, they clambered up a narrow gully, apparently the dry bed of a mountain torrent. As they ascended, Ripevery now and then heard long rolling peals like distant thunder, thatseemed to issue out of a deep ravine, or rather cleft, between loftyrocks, toward which their rugged path conducted. He paused for a moment, but supposing it to be the muttering of one of those transientthunder-showers which often take place in mountain heights, heproceeded. Passing through the ravine, they came to a hollow, like asmall amphitheatre, surrounded by perpendicular precipices, over thebrinks of which impending trees shot their branches, so that you onlycaught glimpses of the azure sky and the bright evening cloud. Duringthe whole time Rip and his companion had laboured on in silence; forthough the former marvelled greatly what could be the object of carryinga keg of liquor up this wild mountain, yet there was something strangeand incomprehensible about the unknown, that inspired awe and checkedfamiliarity. 

On entering the amphitheatre, new objects of wonder presentedthemselves. On a level spot in the centre was a company of odd-lookingpersonages playing at nine-pins. They were dressed in a quaintoutlandish fashion; some wore short doublets, others jerkins, with longknives in their belts, and most of them had enormous breeches of similarstyle with that of the guide's. Their visages, too, were peculiar; onehad a large beard, broad face, and small piggish eyes; the face ofanother seemed to consist entirely of nose, and was surmounted by awhite sugar-loaf hat, set off with a little red cock's tail. They allhad beards, of various shapes and colours. There was one who seemed tobe the commander. He was a stout old gentleman, with a weather-beatencountenance; he wore a laced doublet, broad belt and hanger, high-crowned hat and feather, red stockings, and high-heeled shoes, withroses in them. The whole group reminded Rip of the figures in an oldFlemish painting in the parlour of Dominie Van Shaick, the villageparson, which had been brought over from Holland at the time of thesettlement. 

What seemed particularly odd to Rip was, that though these folks wereevidently amusing themselves, yet they maintained the gravest faces, themost mysterious silence, and were, withal, the most melancholy party ofpleasure he had ever witnessed. Nothing interrupted the stillness of thescene but the noise of the balls, which, whenever they were rolled, echoed along the mountains like rumbling peals of thunder. 

As Rip and his companion approached them, they suddenly desisted fromtheir play, and stared at him with such fixed, statue-like gaze, andsuch strange, uncouth, lack-lustre countenances that his heart turnedwithin him, and his knees smote together. His companion now emptied thecontents of the keg into large flagons, and made signs to him to waitupon the company. He obeyed with fear and trembling; they quaffed theliquor in profound silence, and then returned to their game. 

By degrees Rip's awe and apprehension subsided. He even ventured, whenno eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which he found hadmuch of the flavour of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a thirstysoul, and was soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste provokedanother; and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so often that atlength his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, his headgradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep. 

On waking, he found himself on the green knoll whence he had first seenthe old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes--it was a bright, sunnymorning. The birds were hopping and twittering among the bushes, and theeagle was wheeling aloft, and breasting the pure mountain breeze. "Surely, " thought Rip, "I have not slept here all night. " He recalledthe occurrences before he fell asleep. The strange man with a keg ofliquor--the mountain ravine--the wild retreat among the rocks--thewoe-begone party at nine-pins--the flagon--"Oh! that flagon! thatwicked flagon!" thought Rip--"what excuse shall I make to Dame VanWinkle?"

He looked round for his gun, but in place of the clean, well-oiledfowling-piece, he found an old firelock lying by him, the barrelincrusted with rust, the lock falling off, and the stock worm-eaten. Henow suspected that the grave roisters of the mountain had put a trickupon him, and, having dosed him with liquor, had robbed him of his gun. Wolf, too, had disappeared, but he might have strayed away after asquirrel or partridge. He whistled after him, and shouted his name, butall in vain; the echoes repeated his whistle and shout, but no dog wasto be seen. 

He determined to revisit the scene of the last evening's gambol, and ifhe met with any of the party, to demand his dog and gun. As he rose towalk, he found himself stiff in the joints, and wanting in his usualactivity. "These mountain beds do not agree with me, " thought Rip, "andif this frolic should lay me up with a fit of the rheumatism, I shallhave a blessed time with Dame Van Winkle. " With some difficulty he gotdown into the glen; he found the gully up which he and his companion hadascended the preceding evening; but to his astonishment a mountainstream was now foaming down it, leaping from rock to rock and fillingthe glen with babbling murmurs. He, however, made shift to scramble upits sides, working his toilsome way through thickets of birch, sassafras, and witch-hazel, and sometimes tripped up or entangled by thewild grapevines that twisted their coils or tendrils from tree to tree, and spread a kind of network in his path. 

At length he reached to where the ravine had opened through the cliffsto the amphitheatre; but no traces of such opening remained. The rockspresented a high, impenetrable wall, over which the torrent cometumbling in a sheet of feathery foam, and fell into a broad, deep basin, black from the shadows of the surrounding forest. Here, then, poor Ripwas brought to a stand. He again called and whistled after his dog; hewas only answered by the cawing of a flock of idle crows, sporting highin air about a dry tree that overhung a sunny precipice; and who, securein their elevation, seemed to look down and scoff at the poor man'sperplexities. What was to be done? the morning was passing away, and Ripfelt famished for want of his breakfast. He grieved to give up his dogand gun; he dreaded to meet his wife; but it would not do to starveamong the mountains. He shook his head, shouldered the rusty firelock, and, with a heart full of trouble and anxiety, turned his stepshomeward. 

As he approached the village he met a number of people, but none whom heknew, which somewhat surprised him, for he had thought himselfacquainted with every one in the country round. Their dress, too, was ofa different fashion from that to which he was accustomed. They allstared at him with equal marks of surprise, and whenever they cast theireyes upon him, invariably stroked their chins. The constant recurrenceof this gesture induced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same, when, to hisastonishment, he found his beard had grown a foot long!

He had now entered the skirts of the village. A troop of strangechildren ran at his heels, hooting after him, and pointing at his graybeard. The dogs, too, not one of which he recognised for an oldacquaintance, barked at him as he passed. The very village was altered;it was larger and more populous. There were rows of houses which he hadnever seen before, and those which had been his familiar haunts haddisappeared. Strange names were over the doors--strange faces at thewindows--everything was strange. His mind now misgave him; he began todoubt whether both he and the world around him were not bewitched. Surely this was his native village, which he had left but the daybefore. There stood the Kaatskill Mountains--there ran the silver Hudsonat a distance--there was every hill and dale precisely as it had alwaysbeen--Rip was sorely perplexed--"That flagon last night, " thought he, "has addled my poor head sadly!"

It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house, which he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment to hear theshrill voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house gone to decay--theroof fallen in, the windows shattered, and the doors off the hinges. Ahalf-starved dog that looked like Wolf was skulking about it. Rip calledhim by name, but the cur snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on. Thiswas an unkind cut indeed--"My very dog, " sighed poor Rip, "has forgottenme!"

He entered the house, which, to tell the truth, Dame Van Winkle hadalways kept in neat order. It was empty, forlorn, and apparentlyabandoned. This desolateness overcame all his connubial fears--he calledloudly for his wife and children--the lonely chambers rang for a momentwith his voice, and then again all was silence. 

He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the villageinn--but it, too, was gone. A large, rickety wooden building stood inits place, with great gaping windows, some of them broken and mendedwith old hats and petticoats, and over the door was painted, "The UnionHotel, by Jonathan Doolittle. " Instead of the great tree that used toshelter the quiet little Dutch inn of yore, there now was reared a tallnaked pole, with something on the top that looked like a red night-cap, and from it was fluttering a flag, on which was a singular assemblage ofstars and stripes--all this was strange and incomprehensible. Herecognised on the sign, however, the ruby face of King George, underwhich he had smoked so many a peaceful pipe; but even this wassingularly metamorphosed. The red coat was changed for one of blue andbuff, a sword was held in the hand instead of a sceptre, the head wasdecorated with a cocked hat, and underneath was painted in largecharacters, GENERAL WASHINGTON. 

There was, as usual, a crowd of folk about the door, but none that Riprecollected. The very character of the people seemed changed. There wasa busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it, instead of the accustomedphlegm and drowsy tranquillity. He looked in vain for the sage NicholasVedder, with his broad face, double chin, and fair long pipe, utteringclouds of tobacco-smoke instead of idle speeches; or Van Bummel, theschool-master, doling forth the contents of an ancient newspaper. Inplace of these, a lean, bilious-looking fellow, with his pockets fullof handbills, was haranguing vehemently about rights ofcitizens--elections--members of Congress--liberty--Bunker's Hill--heroesof seventy-six--and other words, which were a perfect Babylonish jargonto the bewildered Van Winkle. 

The appearance of Rip, with his long grizzled beard, his rustyfowling-piece, his uncouth dress, and an army of women and children athis heels, soon attracted the attention of the tavern-politicians. Theycrowded round him, eying him from head to foot with great curiosity. Theorator bustled up to him, and, drawing him partly aside, inquired "onwhich side he voted?" Rip started in vacant stupidity. Another short butbusy little fellow pulled him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, inquired in his ear, "Whether he was Federal or Democrat?" Rip wasequally at a loss to comprehend the question; when a knowing, self-important old gentleman, in a sharp cocked hat, made his waythrough the crowd, putting them to the right and left with his elbows ashe passed, and planting himself before Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the other resting on his cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrating, as it were, into his very soul, demanded in an austere tone, "whatbrought him to the election with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at hisheels, and whether he meant to breed a riot in the village?"--"Alas!gentlemen, " cried Rip, somewhat dismayed, "I am a poor quiet man, anative of the place, and a loyal subject of the king, God bless him!"

Here a general shout burst from the bystanders--"A tory! a tory! a spy!a refugee! hustle him! away with him!" It was with great difficulty thatthe self-important man in the cocked hat restored order; and havingassumed a tenfold austerity of brow, demanded again of the unknownculprit what he came there for, and whom he was seeking? The poor manhumbly assured him that he meant no harm, but merely came there insearch of some of his neighbours, who used to keep about the tavern. 

"Well--who are they?--name them. "

Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's Nicholas Vedder?"

There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in athin, piping voice: "Nicholas Vedder! why, he is dead and gone theseeighteen years! There was a wooden tombstone in the church yard thatused to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone too. "

"Where's Brom Butcher?"

"Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war; some say hewas killed at the storming of Stony Point--others say he was drowned ina squall at the foot of Antony's Nose. I don't know--he never came backagain. "

"Where's Van Bummel, the school-master?"

"He went off to the wars too, was a great militia general, and is now inCongress. "

Rip's heart died away at hearing of these sad changes in his home andfriends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. Every answerpuzzled him too, by treating of such enormous lapses of time, and ofmatters which he could not understand: war--Congress--Stony Point; hehad no courage to ask after any more friends, but cried out in dispair, "Does nobody here know Rip Van Winkle?"

"Oh, Rip Van Winkle!" exclaimed two or three, "Oh, to be sure! that'sRip Van Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree. "

Rip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself, as he went upthe mountain: apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poorfellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, andwhether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name?

"God knows, " exclaimed he, at his wit's end; "I'm not myself--I'msomebody else--that's me yonder--no--that's somebody else got into myshoes--I was myself last night, but fell asleep on the mountain, andthey've changed my gun, and everything's changed, and I'm changed, and Ican't tell what's my name, or who I am!"

The bystanders began now to look at each other, nod, wink significantly, and tap their fingers against their foreheads. There was a whisper, also, about securing the gun, and keeping the old fellow from doingmischief, at the very suggestion of which the self-important man in thecocked hat retired with some precipitation. At this critical moment afresh, comely women pressed through the throng to get a peep at thegray-bearded man. She had a chubby child in her arms, which, frightenedat his looks, began to cry. "Hush, Rip, " cried she, "hush, you littlefool; the old man won't hurt you. " The name of the child, the air of themother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections inhis mind. "What is your name, my good woman?" asked he. 

"Judith Gardenier. "

"And your father's name?"

"Ah, poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name, but it's twenty years sincehe went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard ofsince, --his dog came home without him; but whether he shot himself, orwas carried away by the Indians, nobody can tell. I was then but alittle girl. "

Rip had but one question more to ask; and he put it with a falteringvoice:

"Where's your mother?"

"Oh, she too had died but a short time since; she broke a blood-vesselin a fit of passion at a New England peddler. "

There was a drop of comfort at least, in this intelligence. The honestman could contain himself no longer. He caught his daughter and herchild in his arms. "I am your father!" cried he--"Young Rip Van Winkleonce--old Rip Van Winkle now! Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle?"

All stood amazed, until an old woman, tottering out from among thecrowd, put her hand to her brow, and peering under it in his face for amoment, exclaimed, "Sure enough it is Rip Van Winkle--it is himself!Welcome home again, old neighbour--Why, where have you been these twentylong years?"

Rip's story was soon told, for the whole twenty years had been to himbut as one night. The neighbours stared when they heard it; some wereseen to wink at each other, and put their tongues in their cheeks; andthe self-important man in the cocked hat, who, when the alarm was over, had returned to the field, screwed down the corners of his mouth, andshook his head--upon which there was a general shaking of the headthroughout the assemblage. 

It was determined, however, to take the opinion of old Peter Vanderdonk, who was seen slowly advancing up the road. He was a descendant of thehistorian of the that name, who wrote one of the earliest accounts ofthe province. Peter was the most ancient inhabitant of the village, andwell versed in all the wonderful events and traditions of theneighbourhood. He recollected Rip at once, and corroborated his story inthe most satisfactory manner. He assured the company that it was a fact, handed down from his ancestor the historian, that the KaatskillMountains had always been haunted by strange beings. That it wasaffirmed that the great Hendrick Hudson, the first discoverer of theriver and country, kept a kind of vigil there every twenty years, withhis crew of the Half-moon; being permitted in this way to revisit thescenes of his enterprise, and keep a guardian eye upon the river and thegreat city called by his name. That his father had once seen them intheir old Dutch dresses playing at nine-pins in a hollow of themountain; and that he himself had heard, one summer afternoon, the soundof their balls like distant peals of thunder. 

To make a long story short, the company broke up, and returned to themore important concerns of the election. Rip's daughter took him home tolive with her; she had a snug well-furnished house, and a stout cheeryfarmer for a husband, whom Rip recollected for one of the urchins thatused to climb upon his back. As to Rip's son and heir, who was the dittoof himself, seen leaning against the tree, he was employed to work onthe farm; but evinced an hereditary disposition to attend to anythingelse but his business. 

Rip now resumed his old walks and habits; he soon found many of hisformer cronies, though all rather the worse for the wear and tear oftime; and preferred making friends among the rising generation, withwhom he soon grew into great favour. 

Having nothing to do at home, and being arrived at that happy age when aman can be idle with impunity, he took his place once more on the benchat the inn door, and was reverenced as one of the patriarchs of thevillage, and a chronicle of the old times "before the war. " It was sometime before he could get into the regular track of gossip, or could bemade to comprehend the strange events that had taken place during historpor. How that there had been a revolutionary war--that the countryhad thrown off the yoke of old England--and that, instead of being asubject of his Majesty George the Third, he was now a free citizen ofthe United States. Rip, in fact, was no politician; the changes of statesand empires made but little impression on him; but there was one speciesof despotism under which he had long groaned, and that was--petticoatgovernment. Happily that was at an end; he had got his neck out of theyoke of matrimony, and could go in and out whenever he pleased, withoutdreading the tyranny of Dame Van Winkle. Whenever her name wasmentioned, however, he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and castup his eyes, which might pass either for an expression of resignation tohis fate, or joy at his deliverance. 

He used to tell his story to every stranger that arrived at Mr. Doolittle's hotel. He was observed, at first, to vary on some pointsevery time he told it, which was, doubtless, owing to his having sorecently awaked. It at last settled down precisely to the tale I haverelated, and not a man, woman, or child in the neighbourhood but knew itby heart. Some always pretended to doubt the reality of it, and insistedthat Rip had been out of his head, and that this was one point on whichhe always remained flighty. The old Dutch inhabitants, however, almostuniversally gave it full credit. Even to this day they never hear athunder-storm of a summer afternoon about the Kaatskill, but they sayHendrick Hudson and his crew are at their game of nine-pins; and it is acommon wish of all henpecked husbands in the neighbourhood, when lifehangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a quieting draught outof Rip Van Wrinkle's flagon. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE GRAY CHAMPION

There was once a time when New England groaned under the actual pressureof heavier wrongs than those threatened ones which brought on theRevolution. James II, the bigoted successor of Charles the Voluptuous, had annulled the charters of all the colonies, and sent a harsh andunprincipled soldier to take away our liberites and endanger ourreligion. The administration of Sir Edmund Andros lacked scarcely asingle characteristic of tyranny: a Governor and Council, holding officefrom the King, and wholly independent of the country; laws made andtaxes levied without concurrence of the people immediate or by theirrepresentatives; the rights of private citizens violated, and the titlesof all landed property declared void; the voice of complaint stifled byrestrictions on the press; and, finally, disaffection overawed by thefirst band of mercenary troops that ever marched on our free soil. Fortwo years our ancestors were kept in sullen submission by that filiallove which had invariably secured their allegiance to the mothercountry, whether its head chanced to be a Parliament, Protector, orPopish Monarch. Till these evil times, however, such allegiance had beenmerely nominal, and the colonists had ruled themselves, enjoying farmore freedom than is even yet the privilege of the native subjects ofGreat Britain. 

At length a rumour reached our shores that the Prince of Orange hadventured on an enterprise, the success of which would be the triumph ofcivil and religious rights and the salvation of New England. It was buta doubtful whisper; it might be false, or the attempt might fail; and, in either case, the man that stirred against King Tames would lose hishead. Still the intelligence produced a marked effect. The people smiledmysteriously in the streets, and threw bold glances at their oppressors;while far and wide there was a subdued and silent agitation, as if theslightest signal would rouse the whole land from its sluggishdespondency. Aware of their danger, the rulers resolved to avert it byan imposing display of strength, and perhaps to confirm their despotismby yet harsher measures. One afternoon in April, 1689, Sir Edmund Androsand his favourite councillors, being warm with wine, assembled thered-coats of the Governor's Guard, and made their appearance in thestreets of Boston. The sun was near setting when the march commenced. 

The roll of the drum at that unquiet crisis seemed to go through thestreets, less as the martial music of the soldiers, than as amuster-call to the inhabitants themselves. A multitude, by variousavenues, assembled in King Street, which was destined to be the scene, nearly a century afterward, of another encounter between the troops ofBritain, and a people struggling against her tyranny. Though more thansixty years had elapsed since the pilgrims came, this crowd of theirdescendants still showed the strong and sombre features of theircharacter perhaps more strikingly in such a stern emergency than onhappier occasions. There were the sober garb, the general severity ofmien, the gloomy but undismayed expression, the scriptural forms ofspeech, and the confidence in Heaven's blessing on a righteous cause, which would have marked a band of the original Puritans, when threatenedby some peril of the wilderness. Indeed, it was not yet time for the oldspirit to be extinct; since there were men in the street that day whohad worshipped there beneath the trees, before a house was reared to theGod for whom they had become exiles. Old soldiers of the Parliament werehere, too, smiling grimly at the thought that their aged arms mightstrike another blow against the house of Stuart. Here, also, were theveterans of King Philip's war, who had burned villages and slaughteredyoung and old, with pious fierceness, while the godly souls throughoutthe land were helping them with prayer. Several ministers were scatteredamong the crowd, which, unlike all other mobs, regarded them with suchreverence, as if there were sanctity in their very garments. These holymen exerted their influence to quiet the people, but not to dispersethem. Meantime, the purpose of the Governor, in disturbing the peace ofthe town at a period when the slightest commotion might throw thecountry into a ferment, was almost the universal subject of inquiry, andvariously explained. 

"Satan will strike his master-stroke presently, " cried some, "because heknoweth that his time is short. All our godly pastors are to be draggedto prison! We shall see them at a Smithfield fire in King Street!"

Hereupon the people of each parish gathered closer round their minister, who looked calmly upward and assumed a more apostolic dignity, as wellbefitted a candidate for the highest honour of his profession, the crownof martyrdom. It was actually fancied, at that period, that New Englandmight have a John Rogers of her own to take the place of that worthy inthe Primer. 

"The Pope of Rome has given orders for a new St. Bartholomew!" criedothers. "We are to be massacred, man and male child!"

Neither was this rumour wholly discredited, although the wiser classbelieved the Governor's object somewhat less atrocious. His predecessorunder the old charter, Bradstreet, a venerable companion of the firstsettlers, was known to be in town. There were grounds for conjecturing, that Sir Edmund Andros intended at once to strike terror by a parade ofmilitary force, and to confound the opposite faction by possessinghimself of their chief. 

"Stand firm for the old charter Governor!" shouted the crowd, seizingupon the idea. "The good old Governor Bradstreet!"

While this cry was at the loudest, the people were surprised by thewell-known figure of Governor Bradstreet himself, a patriarch of nearlyninety, who appeared on the elevated steps of a door, and, withcharacteristic mildness, besought them to submit to the constitutedauthorities. 

"My children, " concluded this venerable person, "do nothing rashly. Crynot aloud, but pray for the welfare of New England, and expect patientlywhat the Lord will do in this matter!"

The event was soon to be decided. All this time, the roll of the drumhad been approaching through Cornhill, louder and deeper, till withreverberations from house to house, and the regular tramp of martialfootsteps, it burst into the street. A double rank of soldiers madetheir appearance, occupying the whole breadth of the passage, withshouldered matchlocks, and matches burning, so as to present a row offires in the dusk. Their steady march was like the progress of amachine, that would roll irresistibly over everything in its way. Next, moving slowly, with a confused clatter of hoofs on the pavement, rode aparty of mounted gentlemen, the central figure being Sir Edmund Andros, elderly, but erect and soldier-like. Those around him were his favouritecouncillors, and the bitterest foes of New England. At his right handrode Edward Randolph, our arch-enemy, that "blasted wretch, " as CottonMather calls him, who achieved the downfall of our ancient government, and was followed with a sensible curse through life and to his grave. Onthe other side was Bullivant, scattering jests and mockery as he rodealong. Dudley came behind, with a downcast look, dreading, as well hemight, to meet the indignant gaze of the people, who beheld him, theironly countryman by birth, among the oppressors of his native land. Thecaptain of a frigate in the harbour, and two or three civil officersunder the Crown, were also there. But the figure which most attractedthe public eye, and stirred up the deepest feeling, was the Episcopalclergyman of King's Chapel, riding haughtily among the magistrates inhis priestly vestments, the fitting representative of prelacy andpersecution, the union of church and state, and all those abominationswhich had driven the Puritans to the wilderness. Another guard ofsoldiers, in double rank, brought up the rear. 

The whole scene was a picture of the condition of New England, and itsmoral, the deformity of any government that does not grow out of thenature of things and the character of the people. On one side thereligious multitude, with their sad visages and dark attire, and on theother, the group of despotic rulers, with the high churchman in themidst, and here and there a crucifix at their bosoms, all magnificentlyclad, flushed with wine, proud of unjust authority, and scoffing at theuniversal groan. And the mercenary soldiers, waiting but the word todeluge the street with blood, showed the only means by which obediencecould be secured. 

"O Lord of Hosts, " cried a voice among the crowd, "provide a Championfor thy people!"

This ejaculation was loudly uttered, and served as a herald's cry, tointroduce a remarkable personage. The crowd had rolled back, and werenow huddled together nearly at the extremity of the street, while thesoldiers had advanced no more than a third of its length. Theintervening space was empty--a paved solitude, between lofty edifices, which threw almost a twilight shadow over it. Suddenly, there was seenthe figure of an ancient man, who seemed to have emerged from among thepeople, and was walking by himself along the centre of the street, toconfront the armed band. He wore the old Puritan dress, a dark cloak anda steeple-crowned hat, in the fashion of at least fifty years before, with a heavy sword upon his thigh, but a staff in his hand to assist thetremulous gait of age. 

When at some distance from the multitude, the old man turned slowlyround, displaying a face of antique majesty, rendered doubly venerableby the hoary beard that descended on his breast. He made a gesture atonce of encouragement and warning, then turned again, and resumed hisway. 

"Who is this gray patriarch?" asked the young men of their sires. 

"Who is this venerable brother?" asked the old men among themselves. 

But none could make reply. The fathers of the people, those offour-score years and upwards, were disturbed, deeming it strange thatthey should forget one of such evident authority, whom they must haveknown in their early days, the associate of Winthrop, and all the oldcouncillors, giving laws, and making prayers, and leading them againstthe savage. The elderly men ought to have remembered him, too, withlocks as gray in their youth, as their own were now. And the young! Howcould he have passed so utterly from their memories--that hoary sire, the relic of long-departed times, whose awful benediction had surelybeen bestowed on their uncovered heads, in childhood?

"Whence did he come? What is his purpose? Who can this old man be?"whispered the wondering crowd. 

Meanwhile, the venerable stranger, staff in hand, was pursuing hissolitary walk along the centre of the street. As he drew near theadvancing soldiers, and as the roll of their drum came full upon hisear, the old man raised himself to a loftier mien, while the decrepitudeof age seemed to fall from his shoulders, leaving him in gray butunbroken dignity. Now, he marched onward with a warrior's step, keepingtime to the military music. Thus the aged form advanced on one side, andthe whole parade of soldiers and magistrates on the other, till, whenscarcely twenty yards remained between, the old man grasped his staff bythe middle, and held it before him like a leader's truncheon. 

"Stand!" cried he. 

The eye, the face, and attitude of command; the solemn, yet warlike pealof that voice, fit either to rule a host in the battle-field or beraised to God in prayer, were irresistible. At the old man's word andoutstretched arm, the roll of the drum was hushed at once, and theadvancing line stood still. A tremulous enthusiasm seized upon themultitude. That stately form, combining the leader and the saint, sogray, so dimly seen, in such an ancient garb, could only belong to someold champion of the righteous cause, whom the oppressor's drum hadsummoned from his grave. They raised a shout of awe and exultation, andlooked for the deliverance of New England. 

The Governor, and the gentlemen of his party, perceiving themselvesbrought to an unexpected stand, rode hastily forward, as if they wouldhave pressed their snorting and affrighted horses right against thehoary apparition. He, however, blenched not a step, but glancing hissevere eye round the group, which half encompassed him, at last bent itsternly on Sir Edmund Andros. One would have thought that the dark oldman was chief ruler there, and that the Governor and Council, withsoldiers at their back, representing the whole power and authority ofthe Crown, had no alternative but obedience. 

"What does this old fellow here?" cried Edward Randolph, fiercely. "On, Sir Edmund! Bid the soldiers forward, and give the dotard the samechoice that you give all his countrymen--to stand aside or be trampledon!"

"Nay, nay, let us show respect to the good grandsire, " said Bullivant, laughing. "See you not, he is some old round-headed dignitary, who hathlain asleep these thirty years, and knows nothing of the change oftimes? Doubtless, he thinks to put us down with a proclamation in OldNoll's name!"

"Are you mad, old man?" demanded Sir Edmund Andros, in loud and harshtones. "How dare you stay the march of King James's Governor?"

"I have stayed the march of a King himself, ere now, " replied the grayfigure, with stern composure, "I am here, Sir Governor, because the cryof an oppressed people hath disturbed me in my secret place; andbeseeching this favour earnestly of the Lord, it was vouchsafed me toappear once again on earth, in the good old cause of his saints. Andwhat speak ye of James? There is no longer a Popish tyrant on the throneof England, and by to-morrow noon, his name shall be a byword in thisvery street, where ye would make it a word of terror. Back, thou thatwast a Governor, back! With this night thy power is ended--to-morrow, the prison!--back, lest I foretell the scaffold!"

The people had been drawing nearer and nearer, and drinking in the wordsof their champion, who spoke in accents long disused, like oneunaccustomed to converse, except with the dead of many years ago. Buthis voice stirred their souls. They confronted the soldiers, not whollywithout arms, and ready to convert the very stones of the street intodeadly weapons. Sir Edmund Andros looked at the old man; then he casthis hard and cruel eye over the multitude, and beheld them burning withthat lurid wrath, so difficult to kindle or to quench; and again hefixed his gaze on the aged form, which stood obscurely in an open space, where neither friend nor foe had thrust himself. What were his thoughts, he uttered no word which might discover. But whether the oppressor wereaverawed by the Gray Champion's look, or perceived his peril in thethreatening attitude of the people, it is certain that he gave back, andordered his soldiers to commence a slow and guarded retreat. Beforeanother sunset, the Governor, and all that rode so proudly with him, were prisoners, and long ere it was known that James had abdicated, KingWilliam was proclaimed throughout New England. 

But where was the Gray Champion? Some reported that, when the troops hadgone from King Street, and the people were thronging tumultuously intheir rear, Bradstreet, the aged Governor, was seen to embrace a formmore aged than his own. Others soberly affirmed, that while theymarvelled at the venerable grandeur of his aspect, the old man had fadedfrom their eyes, melting slowly into the hues of twilight, till, wherehe stood, there was an empty space. But all agreed that the hoary shapewas gone. The men of that generation watched for his reappearance, insunshine and in twilight, but never saw him more, nor knew when hisfuneral passed, nor where his gravestone was. 

And who was the Gray Champion? Perhaps his name might be found in therecords of that stern Court of Justice, which passed a sentence, toomighty for the age, but glorious in all after-times, for its humblinglesson to the monarch and its high example to the subject. I have heard, that whenever the descendants of the Puritans are to show the spirit oftheir sires, the old man appears again. When eighty years had passed, hewalked once more in King Street. Five years later, in the twilight of anApril morning, he stood on the green, beside the meeting-house, atLexington, where now the obelisk of granite, with a slab of slateinlaid, commemorates the first fallen of the Revolution. And when ourfathers were toiling at the breastwork on Bunker's Hill, all throughthat night the old warrior walked his rounds. Long, long may it be, erehe comes again! His hour is one of darkness, and adversity, and peril. But should domestic tyranny oppress us, or the invader's step polluteour soil, still may the Gray Champion come, for he is the type of NewEngland's hereditary spirit; and his shadowy march, on the eve ofdanger, must ever be the pledge, that New England's sons will vindicatetheir ancestry. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOWFOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER

IN THE bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the easternshore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated bythe ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they alwaysprudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St. Nicholaswhen they crossed, there lies a small market town or rural port, whichby some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properlyknown by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told, informer days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from theinveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the villagetavern on market days. Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a littlevalley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of thequietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasionalwhistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only soundthat ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity. 

I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit insquirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut trees that shades oneside of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when all natureis peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as itbroke the Sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated bythe angry echoes. If ever I should wish for a retreat whither I mightsteal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away theremnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than thislittle valley. 

From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of itsinhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, thissequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow, andits rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all theneighbouring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over theland, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place wasbewitched by a High German doctor, during the early days of thesettlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard ofhis tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered byMaster Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still continues underthe sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds ofthe good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They aregiven to all kinds of marvellous beliefs; are subject to trances andvisions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices inthe air. The whole neighbourhood abounds with local tales, hauntedspots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare ofteneracross the valley than in any other part of the country, and thenightmare, with her whole ninefold, seems to make it the favourite sceneof her gambols. 

The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, andseems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is theapparition of a figure on horseback, without a head. It is said by someto be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried awayby a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War, and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk hurrying along in thegloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are notconfined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, andespecially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have beencareful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning thisspectre, allege that the body of the trooper having been buried in thechurchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightlyquest of his head, and that the rushing speed with which he sometimespasses along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his beingbelated, and in a hurry to get back to the churchyard before daybreak. 

Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which hasfurnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; andthe spectre is known at all the country firesides, by the name of theHeadless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. 

It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have mentioned is notconfined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciouslyimbibed by every one who resides there for a time. However wide awakethey may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they aresure, in a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air, andbegin to grow imaginative, to dream dreams, and see apparitions. 

I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is in suchlittle retired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in thegreat state of New York, that population, manners, and customs remainfixed, while the great torrent of migration and improvement, which ismaking such incessant changes in other parts of this restless country, sweeps by them unobserved. They are like those little nooks of stillwater, which border a rapid stream, where we may see the straw andbubble riding quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimicharbour, undisturbed by the brush of the passing current. Though manyyears have elapsed since I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy Hollow, yetI question whether I should not still find the same trees and the samefamilies vegetating in its sheltered bosom. 

In this by-place of nature there abode, in a remote period of Americanhistory, that is to say, some thirty years since, a worthy wight of thename of Ichabod Crane, who sojourned, or, as he expressed it, "tarried, "in Sleepy Hollow, for the purpose of instructing the children of thevicinity. He was a native of Connecticut, a state which supplies theUnion with pioneers for the mind as well as for the forest, and sendsforth yearly its legions of frontier woodmen and country schoolmasters. The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, handsthat dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served forshovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head wassmall, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and along snipe nose, so that it looked like a weathercock perched upon hisspindle neck to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding alongthe profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging andfluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius offamine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from acornfield. 

His schoolhouse was a low building of one large room, rudely constructedof logs; the windows partly glazed, and partly patched with leaves ofold copybooks. It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours, by awithe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against thewindow shutters; so that though a thief might get in with perfect ease, he would find some embarrassment in getting out--an idea most probablyborrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, from the mystery of aneelpot. The schoolhouse stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation, just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close by, and aformidable birch tree growing at one end of it. From hence the lowmurmur of his pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, might be heardin a drowsy summer's day, like the hum of a beehive; interrupted now andthen by the authoritative voice of the master, in the tone of menace orcommand; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of the birch, as heurged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of knowledge. Truth tosay, he was a conscientious man, and ever bore in mind the golden maxim, "Spare the rod and spoil the child. " Ichabod Crane's scholars certainlywere not spoiled. 

I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruelpotentates of the school who joy in the smart of their subjects; on thecontrary, he administered justice with discrimination rather thanseverity; taking the burden off the backs of the weak, and laying it onthose of the strong. Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the leastflourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the claims ofjustice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some littletough, wrong-headed, broad-skirted Dutch urchin, who sulked and swelledand grew dogged and sullen beneath the birch. All this he called "doinghis duty by their parents"; and he never inflicted a chastisementwithout following it by the assurance, so consolatory to the smartingurchin, that "he would remember it and thank him for it the longest dayhe had to live. "

When school hours were over, he was even the companion and playmate ofthe larger boys; and on holiday afternoons would convoy some of thesmaller ones home, who happened to have pretty sisters, or goodhousewives for mothers, noted for the comforts of the cupboard. Indeed, it behooved him to keep on good terms with his pupils. The revenuearising from his school was small, and would have been scarcelysufficient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder, and, though lank, had the dilating powers of an anaconda; but to helpout his maintenance, he was, according to country custom in those parts, boarded and lodged at the houses of the farmers whose children heinstructed. With these he lived successively a week at a time, thusgoing the rounds of the neighbourhood, with all his worldly effects tiedup in a cotton handkerchief. 

That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rusticpatrons, who are apt to consider the costs of schooling a grievousburden, and schoolmasters as mere drones, he had various ways ofrendering himself both useful and agreeable. He assisted the farmersoccasionally in the lighter labours of their farms, helped to make hay, mended the fences, took the horses to water, drove the cows frompasture, and cut wood for the winter fire. He laid aside, too, all thedominant dignity and absolute sway with which he lorded it in his littleempire, the school, and became wonderfully gentle and ingratiating. Hefound favour in the eyes of the mothers by petting the children, particularly the youngest; and like the lion bold, which whilom somagnanimously the lamb did hold, he would sit with a child on one knee, and rock a cradle with his foot for whole hours together. 

In addition to his other vocations, he was the singing-master of theneighbourhood, and picked up many bright shillings by instructing theyoung folks in psalmody. It was a matter of no little vanity to him onSundays, to take his station in front of the church gallery, with a bandof chosen singers; where, in his own mind, he completely carried awaythe palm from the parson. Certain it is, his voice resounded far aboveall the rest of the congregation; and there are peculiar quavers stillto be heard in that church, and which may even be heard half a mile off, quite to the opposite side of the mill-pond, on a still Sunday morning, which are said to be legitimately descended from the nose of IchabodCrane. Thus, by divers little makeshifts, in that ingenious way which iscommonly denominated "by hook and by crook, " the worthy pedagogue got ontolerably enough, and was thought, by all who understood nothing of thelabour of headwork, to have a wonderfully easy life of it. 

The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the femalecircle of a rural neighbourhood; being considered a kind of idle, gentlemanlike personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments tothe rough country swains, and, indeed, inferior in learning only to theparson. His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some little stirat the tea-table of a farmhouse, and the addition of a supernumerarydish of cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade of a silverteapot. Our man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly happy in thesmiles of all the country damsels. How he would figure among them in thechurchyard, between services on Sundays! gathering grapes for them fromthe wild vines that overran the surrounding trees; reciting for theiramusement all the epitaphs on the tombstones; or sauntering, with awhole bevy of them, along the banks of the adjacent mill-pond; while themore bashful country bumpkins hung sheepishly back, envying his superiorelegance and address. 

From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house, so thathis appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover, esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had readseveral books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather's"History of New England Witchcraft, " in which, by the way, he mostfirmly and potently believed. 

He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simplecredulity. His appetite for the marvellous, and his powers of digestingit, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by hisresidence in this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrousfor his capacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his schoolwas dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed ofclover bordering the little brook that whimpered by his schoolhouse, andthere con over old Mather's direful tales, until the gathering dusk ofevening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, as hewended his way by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the farmhousewhere he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, at thatwitching hour, fluttered his excited imagination--the moan of thewhip-poor-will from the hillside, the boding cry of the tree toad, thatharbinger of storm, the dreary hooting of the screech owl, to the suddenrustling in the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. Thefireflies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, nowand then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream acrosshis path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winginghis blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give upthe ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch's token. Hisonly resource on such occasions, either to drown thought or drive awayevil spirits, was to sing psalm tunes; and the good people of SleepyHollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often filled withawe at hearing his nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out, "floating from the distant hill, or along the dusky road. 

Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was to pass long winterevenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire, with a row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, andlisten to their marvellous tales of ghosts and goblins, and hauntedfields, and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, andparticularly of the headless horseman, or Galloping Hessian of theHollow, as they sometimes called him. He would delight them equally byhis anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentoussights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times ofConnecticut; and would frighten them woefully with speculations uponcomets and shooting stars; and with the alarming fact that the world didabsolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy!

But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in thechimney corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow from thecrackling wood fire, and where, of course, no spectre dared to show itsface, it was dearly purchased by the terrors of his subsequent walkhomewards. What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path, amidst thedim and ghastly glare of a snowy night! With what wistful look did heeye every trembling ray of light streaming across the waste fields fromsome distant window! How often was he appalled by some shrub coveredwith snow, which, like a sheeted spectre, beset his very path! How oftendid he shrink with curdling awe at the sound of his own steps on thefrosty crust beneath his feet; and dread to look over his shoulder, lesthe should behold some uncouth being tramping close behind him! and howoften was he thrown into complete dismay by some rushing blast, howlingamong the trees, in the idea that it was the Galloping Hessian on one ofhis nightly scourings!

All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the mindthat walk in darkness; and though he had seen many spectres in his time, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his lonelyperambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these evils; and he wouldhave passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the Devil and all hisworks, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes moreperplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race ofwitches put together, and that was--a woman. 

Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, toreceive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, thedaughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was ablooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge; ripe and meltingand rosy-cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and universally famed, not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations. She was withal alittle or a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which wasa mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off hercharms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, which hergreat-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam; the temptingstomacher of the olden time, and withal a provokingly short petticoat, to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round. 

Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart toward the sex; and it is notto be wondered at, that so tempting a morsel soon found favour in hiseyes, more especially after he had visited her in her paternal mansion. Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a thriving, contented, liberal hearted farmer. He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes orhis thoughts beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within thoseeverything was snug, happy and well-conditioned. He was satisfied withhis wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the heartyabundance, rather than the style in which he lived. His stronghold wassituated on the banks of the Hudson, in one of those green, sheltered, fertile nooks in which the Dutch farmers are so fond of nestling. Agreat elm tree spread its broad branches over it, at the foot of whichbubbled up a spring of the softest and sweetest water, in a little wellformed of a barrel; and then stole sparkling away through the grass, toa neighbouring brook, that babbled along among alders and dwarf willows. Hard by the farmhouse was a vast barn, that might have served for achurch; every window and crevice of which seemed bursting forth with thetreasures of the farm; the flail was busily resounding within it frommorning to night; swallows and martins skimmed twittering about theeaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one eye turned up, as if watchingthe weather, some with their heads under their wings or buried in theirbosoms, and others swelling, and cooing, and bowing about their dames, were enjoying the sunshine on the roof. Sleek unwieldy porkers weregrunting in the repose and abundance of their pens, from whence salliedforth, now and then, troops of sucking pigs, as if to snuff the air. Astately squadron of snowy geese were riding in an adjoining pond, convoying whole fleets of ducks; regiments of turkeys were gobblingthrough the farmyard, and Guinea fowls fretting about it, likeill-tempered housewives, with their peevish, discontented cry. Beforethe barn door strutted the gallant cock, that pattern of a husband, awarrior and a fine gentleman, clapping his burnished wings and crowingin the pride and gladness of his heart--sometimes tearing up the earthwith his feet, and then generously calling his ever-hungry family ofwives and children to enjoy the rich morsel which he had discovered. 

The pedagogue's mouth watered as he looked upon this sumptuous promiseof luxurious winter fare. In his devouring mind's eye, he pictured tohimself every roasting-pig running about with a pudding in his belly, and an apple in his mouth; the pigeons were snugly put to bed in acomfortable pie, and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese wereswimming in their own gravy; and the ducks pairing cosily in dishes, like snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce. Inthe porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon, and juicyrelishing ham; not a turkey but he beheld daintily trussed up, with itsgizzard under its wing, and, peradventure, a necklace of savourysausages; and even bright chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his back, in a side dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter whichhis chivalrous spirit disdained to ask while living. 

As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his greatgreen eyes over the fat meadow lands, the rich fields of wheat, of rye, of buckwheat, and Indian corn, and the orchards burdened with ruddyfruit, which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heartyearned after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and hisimagination expanded with the idea, how they might be readily turnedinto cash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land, andshingle palaces in the wilderness. Nay, his busy fancy already realisedhis hopes, and presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a wholefamily of children, mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with householdtrumpery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath; and he beheld himselfbestriding a pacing mare, with a colt at her heels, setting out forKentucky, Tennessee--or the Lord knows where!

When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was complete. Itwas one, of those spacious farmhouses, with high ridged but lowlysloping roofs, built in the style handed down from the first Dutchsettlers; the low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the front, capable of being closed up in bad weather. Under this were hung flails, harness, various utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in theneighbouring river. Benches were built along the sides for summer use;and a great spinning-wheel at one end, and a churn at the other, showedthe various uses to which this important porch might be devoted. Fromthis piazza the wondering Ichabod entered the hall, which formed thecentre of the mansion, and the place of usual residence. Here rows ofresplendent pewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In onecorner stood a huge bag of wool, ready to be spun; in another, aquantity of linsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, andstrings of dried apples and peaches, hung in gay festoons along thewalls, mingled with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gavehim a peep into the best parlour, where the claw footed chairs and darkmahogany tables shone like mirrors; andirons, with their accompanyingshovel and tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops;mock-oranges and conch-shells decorated the mantle-piece; strings ofvarious coloured birds' eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrichegg was hung from the centre of the room, and a corner cupboard, knowingly left open, displayed immense treasures of old silver and wellmended china. 

From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight, thepeace of his mind was at an end, and his only study was how to gain theaffections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel. In this enterprise, however, he had more real difficulties than generally fell to the lot ofa knight-errant of yore, who seldom had anything but giants, enchanters, fiery dragons, and such like easily conquered adversaries, to contendwith, and had to make his way merely through gates of iron and brass, and walls of adamant to the castle keep, where the lady of his heart wasconfined; all which he achieved as easily as a man would carve his wayto the centre of a Christmas pie; and then the lady gave him her hand asa matter of course. Ichabod, on the contrary, had to win his way to theheart of a country coquette, beset with a labyrinth of whims andcaprices, which were forever presenting new difficulties andimpediments; and he had to encounter a host of fearful adversaries ofreal flesh and blood, the numerous rustic admirers, who beset everyportal to her heart, keeping a watchful and angry eye upon each other, but ready to fly out in the common cause against any new competitor. 

Among these, the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation, BromVan Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats ofstrength and hardihood. He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, withshort curly black hair, and a bluff but not unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From his Herculean frame andgreat powers of limb, he had received the nickname of Brom Bones, bywhich he was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge andskill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar. Hewas foremost at all races and cock-fights; and, with the ascendancywhich bodily strength always acquires in rustic life, was the umpire inall disputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions withan air and tone that admitted of no gainsay or appeal. He was alwaysready for either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief thanill-will in his composition; and with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong clash of waggish good humour at bottom. He had threeor four boon companions, who regarded him as their model, and at thehead of whom he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud ormerriment for miles round. In cold weather he was distinguished by a furcap, surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and when the folks at acountry gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whiskingabout among a squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall. Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses atmidnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks; and theold dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment tillthe hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, "Ay, there goesBrom Bones and his gang!" The neighbours looked upon him with a mixtureof awe, admiration, and good-will; and, when any madcap prank or rusticbrawl occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warrantedBrom Bones was at the bottom of it. 

This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrinafor the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though his amoroustoyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of abear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage hishopes. Certain it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates toretire, who felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours; insomuch, that when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel's paling, on a Sundaynight, a sure sign that his master was courting, or, as it is termed, "sparking, " within, all other suitors passed by in despair, and carriedthe war into other quarters. 

Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend, and, considering all things, a stouter man than he would have shrunkfrom the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired. He had, however, a happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature;he was in form and spirit like a supple-jack--yielding, but tough;though he bent, he never broke; and though he bowed beneath theslightest pressure, yet, the moment it was away--jerk!--he was as erect, and carried his head as high as ever. 

To have taken the field openly against his rival would have beenmadness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours, any morethan that stormy lover, Achilles. Ichabod, therefore, made his advancesin a quiet and gently insinuating manner. Under cover of his characterof singing-master, he made frequent visits at the farmhouse; not that hehad anything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference of parents, which is so often a stumbling block in the path of lovers. Balt VanTassel was an easy, indulgent soul; he loved his daughter better eventhan his pipe, and, like a reasonable man and an excellent father, lether have her way in everything. His notable little wife, too, had enoughto do to attend to her housekeeping and manage her poultry; for, as shesagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish things, and must be lookedafter, but girls can take care of themselves. Thus, while the busy damebustled about the house, or plied her spinning-wheel at one end of thepiazza, honest Balt would sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achievements of a little wooden warrior, who, armed with asword in each hand, was most valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacleof the barn. In the meantime, Ichabod would carry on his suit with thedaughter by the side of the spring under the great elm, or saunteringalong in the twilight, that hour so favourable to the lover's eloquence. 

I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won. To me theyhave always been matters of riddle and admiration. Some seem to have butone vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a thousandavenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways. It is a greattriumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater proof ofgeneralship to maintain possession of the latter, for a man must battlefor his fortress at every door and window. He who wins a thousand commonhearts is therefore entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputedsway over the heart of a coquette is indeed a hero. Certain it is, thiswas not the case with the redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the momentIchabod Crane made his advances, the interests of the former evidentlydeclined: his horse was no longer seen tied to the palings on Sundaynights, and a deadly feud gradually arose between him and the preceptorof Sleepy Hollow. 

Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain havecarried matters to open warfare and have settled their pretensions tothe lady, according to the mode of those most concise and simplereasoners, the knights-errant of yore--by single combat; but Ichabod wastoo conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the listsagainst him; he had overheard a boast of Bones, that he would "doublethe schoolmaster up, and lay him on a shelf of his own schoolhouse"; andhe was too wary to give him an opportunity. There was somethingextremely provoking in this obstinately pacific system; it left Brom noalternative but to draw upon the funds of rustic waggery in hisdisposition, and to play off boorish practical jokes upon his rival. Ichabod became the object of whimsical persecution to Bones and his gangof rough riders. They harried his hitherto peaceful domains, smoked outhis singing-school by stopping up the chimney, broke into theschoolhouse at night, in spite of its formidable fastenings of withe andwindow stakes, and turned everything topsy-turvy, so that the poorschoolmaster began to think all the witches in the country held theirmeetings there. But what was still more annoying, Brom took allopportunities of turning him into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog whom he taught to whine in the most ludicrousmanner, and introduced as a rival of Ichabod's, to instruct her inpsalmody. 

In this way matters went on for some time, without producing anymaterial effect on the relative situations of the contending powers. Ona fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned onthe lofty stool from whence he usually watched all the concerns of hislittle literary realm. In his hand he swayed a ferule, that sceptre ofdespotic power; the birch of justice reposed on three nails behind thethrone, a constant terror to evil doers; while on the desk before himmight be seen sundry contraband articles and prohibited weapons detectedupon the persons of idle urchins, such as half-munched apples, popguns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole legions of rampant little papergame-cocks. Apparently there had been some appalling act of justicerecently inflicted, for his scholars were all busily intent upon theirbooks, or slyly whispering behind them with one eye kept upon themaster; and a kind of buzzing stillness reigned throughout theschoolroom. It was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a negro intow-cloth jacket and trousers, a round-crowned fragment of a hat, likethe cap of Mercury, and mounted on the back of a ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he managed with a rope by way of halter. He cameclattering up to the school door with an invitation to Ichabod to attenda merry-making or "quilting-frolic, " to be held that evening at MynheerVan Tassel's; and having delivered his message with that air ofimportance and effort at fine language which a negro is apt to displayon petty embassies of the kind, he dashed over the brook, and was seenscampering away up the Hollow, full of the importance and hurry of hismission. 

All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet schoolroom. The scholarswere hurried through their lessons without stopping at trifles; thosewho were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and those who weretardy had a smart application now and then in the rear, to quicken theirspeed or help them over a tall word. Books were flung aside withoutbeing put away on the shelves, inkstands were overturned, benches throwndown, and the whole school was turned loose an hour before the usualtime, bursting forth like a legion of young imps, yelping and racketingabout the green in joy at their early emancipation. 

The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half hour at his toilet, brushing and furbishing up his best, and indeed only suit of rustyblack, and arranging his locks by a bit of broken looking-glass thathung up in the schoolhouse. That he might make his appearance before hismistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from thefarmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman of thename of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued forth likea knight-errant in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should, in thetrue spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks andequipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a brokendown plow-horse, that had outlived almost everything but itsviciousness. He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck, and a head likea hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with burs;one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and spectral, but the otherhad the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he must have had fire andmettle in his day, if we may judge from the name he bore of Gunpowder. He had, in fact, been a favourite steed of his master's, the cholericVan Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken down as helooked, there was more of the lurking devil in him than in any youngfilly in the country. 

Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode with shortstirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of the saddle;his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers'; he carried his whipperpendicularly in his hand, like a sceptre, and as his horse jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. Asmall wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip offorehead might be called, and the skirts of his black coat fluttered outalmost to the horse's tail. Such was the appearance of Ichabod and hissteed as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it wasaltogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met with in broaddaylight. 

It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear andserene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we alwaysassociate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their soberbrown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nippedby the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet. Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance high in theair; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beechand hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals fromthe neighbouring stubble field. 

The small birds were taking their farewell banquets. In the fullness oftheir revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking from bush tobush, and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and varietyaround them. There was the honest cockrobin, the favourite game ofstripling sportsmen, with its loud querulous note; and the twitteringblackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker, with his crimson crest, his broad black gorget, and splendid plumage;and the cedar-bird, with its red-tipt wings and yellow-tipt tail and itslittle monteiro cap of feathers; and the blue jay, that noisy coxcomb, in his gay light blue coat and white underclothes, screaming andchattering, nodding and bobbing and bowing, and pretending to be on goodterms with every songster of the grove. 

As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to every symptomof culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures of jollyautumn. On all sides he beheld vast store of apples: some hanging inoppressive opulence on the trees; some gathered into baskets and barrelsfor the market; others heaped up in rich piles for the cider-press. Farther on he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with its golden earspeeping from their leafy coverts, and holding out the promise of cakesand hasty-pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying beneath them, turningup their fair round bellies to the sun, and giving ample prospects ofthe most luxurious of pies; and anon he passed the fragrant buckwheatfields breathing the odour of the beehive, and as he beheld them, softanticipations stole over his mind of dainty slap-jacks, well buttered, and garnished with honey or treacle, by the delicate little dimpled handof Katrina Van Tassel. 

Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and "sugaredsuppositions, " he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills whichlook out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson. The sungradually wheeled his broad disk down in the west. The wide bosom of theTappen Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here and there agentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of the distantmountain. A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a breath of airto move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing graduallyinto a pure apple green, and from that into the deep blue of themid-heaven. A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of theprecipices that overhung some parts of the river, giving greater depthto the dark gray and purple of the rocky sides. A sloop was loitering inthe distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail hanginguselessly against the mast; and as the reflection of the sky gleamedalong the still water, it seemed as if the vessel was suspended in theair. 

It was toward evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of the Heer VanTassel, which he found thronged with the pride and flower of theadjacent country. Old farmers, a spare leathern-faced race, in homespuncoats and breeches, blue stockings, huge shoes, and magnificent pewterbuckles. Their brisk, withered little dames, in close crimped caps, longwaisted short-gowns, homespun petticoats, with scissors and pincushions, and gay calico pockets hanging on the outside. Buxom lasses, almost asantiquated as their mothers, excepting where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, or perhaps a white frock, gave symptoms of city innovation. The sons, inshort square skirted coats, with rows of stupendous brass buttons, andtheir hair generally queued in the fashion of the times, especially ifthey could procure an eelskin for the purpose, it being esteemedthroughout the country as a potent nourisher and strengthener of thehair. 

Brom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having come to thegathering on his favourite steed Daredevil, a creature, like himself, full of mettle and mischief, and which no one but himself could manage. He was, in fact, noted for preferring vicious animals, given to allkinds of tricks which kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, forhe held a tractable, well broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit. 

Fain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that burst upon theenraptured gaze of my hero, as he entered the state parlour of VanTassel's mansion. Not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, with theirluxurious display of red and white; but the ample charms of a genuineDutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous time of autumn. Such heaped-upplatters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds, known onlyto experienced Dutch housewives! There was the doughty doughnut, thetender olykoek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller; sweet cakes andshort cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the whole family ofcakes. And then there were apple pies, and peach pies, and pumpkin pies;besides slices of ham and smoked beef: and moreover delectable dishes ofpreserved plums, and peaches, and pears, and quinces; not to mentionbroiled shad and roasted chickens; together with bowls of milk andcream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty much as I have enumeratedthem, with the motherly teapot sending up its clouds of vapour from themidst--Heaven bless the mark! I want breath and time to discuss thisbanquet as it deserves, and am too eager to get on with my story. Happily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a hurry as his historian, butdid ample justice to every dainty. 

He was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated in proportionas his skin was filled with good cheer, and whose spirits rose witheating, as some men's do with drink. He could not help, too, rolling hislarge eyes round him as he ate, and chuckling with the possibility thathe might one day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable luxuryand splendour. Then he, thought, how soon he'd turn his back upon theold school-house; snap his fingers in the face of Hans Van Ripper, andevery other niggardly patron, and kick any itinerant pedagogue out ofdoors that should dare to call him comrade!

Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with a face dilatedwith content and good humour, round and jolly as the harvest moon. Hishospitable attentions were brief, but expressive, being confined to ashake of the hand, a slap on the shoulder, a loud laugh and a pressinginvitation to "fall to, and help themselves. "

And now the sound of the music from the common room, or hall, summonedto the dance. The musician was an old gray-headed negro, who had beenthe itinerant orchestra of the neighbourhood for more than half acentury. His instrument was as old and battered as himself. The greaterpart of the time he scraped on two or three strings, accompanying everymovement of the bow with a motion of the head; bowing almost to theground, and stamping with his foot whenever a fresh couple were tostart. 

Ichabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon his vocalpowers. Not a limb, not a fibre about him was idle; and to have seen hisloosely hung frame in full motion, and clattering about the room, youwould have thought St. Vitus himself, that blessed patron of the dance, was figuring before you in person. He was the admiration of all thenegroes; who, having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm andthe neighbourhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black faces atevery door and window; gazing with delight at the scene; rolling theirwhite eye-balls, and showing grinning rows of ivory from ear to ear. Howcould the flogger of urchins be otherwise than animated and joyous? thelady of his heart was his partner in the dance, and smiling graciouslyin reply to all his amorous oglings; while Brom Bones, sorely smittenwith love and jealousy, sat brooding by himself in one corner. 

When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of thesager folks, who, with Old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of thepiazza, gossiping over former times, and drawing out long stories aboutthe war. 

This neighbourhood, at the time of which I am speaking, was one of thosehighly favoured places which abound with chronicle and great men. TheBritish and American line had run near it during the war; it had, therefore, been the scene of marauding, and infested with refugees, cow-boys, and all kinds of border chivalry. Just sufficient time hadelapsed to enable each story-teller to dress up his tale with a littlebecoming fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, tomake himself the hero of every exploit. 

There was the story of Doffue Martling, a large blue-bearded Dutchman, who had nearly taken a British frigate with an old iron nine-pounderfrom a mud breast work, only that his gun burst at the sixth discharge. And there was an old gentleman who shall be nameless, being too rich amynheer to be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of White Plains, being an excellent master of defence, parried a musket-ball with asmall-sword, insomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz round the blade, and glance off at the hilt; in proof of which he was ready at any timeto show the sword, with the hilt a little bent. There were several morethat had been equally great in the field, not one of whom but waspersuaded that he had a considerable hand in bringing the war to a happytermination. 

But all these were nothing to the tales of ghosts and apparitions thatsucceeded. The neighbourhood is rich in legendary treasures of the kind. Local tales and superstitions thrive best in these sheltered, long-settled retreats; but are trampled under foot by the shiftingthrong that forms the population of most of our country places. Besides, there is no encouragement for ghosts in most of our villages, for theyhave scarcely had time to finish their first nap and turn themselves intheir graves, before their surviving friends have travelled away fromthe neighbourhood; so that when they turn out at night to walk theirrounds, they have no acquaintance left to call upon. This is perhaps thereason why we so seldom hear of ghosts except in our long establishedDutch communities. 

The immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of supernatural storiesin these parts, was doubtless owing to the vicinity of Sleepy Hollow. There was a contagion in the very air that blew from that hauntedregion; it breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infectingall the land. Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at VanTassel's, and, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderfullegends. Many dismal tales were told about funeral trains, and mourningcries and wailings heard and seen about the great tree where theunfortunate Major Andre was taken, and which stood in the neighbourhood. Some mention was made also of the woman in white, that haunted the darkglen at Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek on winter nightsbefore a storm, having perished there in the snow. The chief part of thestories, however, turned upon the favourite spectre of Sleepy Hollow, the Headless Horseman, who had been heard several times of late, patrolling the country; and, it was said, tethered his horse nightlyamong the graves in the churchyard. 

The sequestered situation of the church seems always to have made it afavourite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded bylocust trees and lofty elms from among which its decent, whitewashedwalls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity beaming through theshades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheetof water, bordered by high trees, between which, peeps may be caught atthe blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its grass-grown yard, wherethe sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there atleast the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends awide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks andtrunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not farfrom the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that ledto it, and the bridge itself, were thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the daytime; but occasioned afearful darkness at night. Such was one of the favourite haunts of theHeadless Horseman, and the place where he was most frequentlyencountered. The tale was told of old Brouwer, a most hereticaldisbeliever in ghosts, how he met the Horseman returning from his forayinto Sleepy Hollow, and was obliged to get up behind him; how theygalloped over bush and brake, over hill and swamp, until they reachedthe bridge; when the Horseman suddenly turned into a skeleton, threw oldBrouwer into the brook, and sprang away over the tree-tops with a clapof thunder. 

This story was immediately matched by a thrice marvellous adventure ofBrom Bones, who made light of the Galloping Hessian as an arrant jockey. He affirmed that on returning one night from the neighbouring village ofSing Sing, he had been overtaken by this midnight trooper; that the hadoffered to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should have won ittoo, for Daredevil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but just as theycame to the church bridge, the Hessian bolted, and vanished in a flashof fire. 

All these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which men talk inthe dark, the countenances of the listeners only now and then receivinga casual gleam from the glare of a pipe, sank deep in the mind ofIchabod. He repaid them in kind with large extracts from his invaluableauthor, Cotton Mather, and added many marvellous events that had takenplace in his native state of Connecticut, and fearful sights which hehad seen in his nightly walks about Sleepy Hollow. 

The revel now gradually broke up. The old farmers gathered togethertheir families in their wagons, and were heard for some time rattlingalong the hollow roads, and over the distant hills. Some of the damselsmounted on pillions behind their favourite swains, and theirlight-hearted laughter, mingling with the clatter of hoofs, echoed alongthe silent woodlands, sounding fainter and fainter, until they graduallydied away--and the late scene of noise and frolic was all silent anddeserted. Ichabod only lingered behind, according to the custom ofcountry lovers, to have a tete-a-tete with the heiress; fully convincedthat he was now on the high road to success. What passed at thisinterview I will not pretend to say, for in fact I do not know. Something, however, I fear me, must have gone wrong, for he certainlysallied forth, after no very great interval, with an air quite desolateand chapfallen. Oh, these women! these women! Could that girl have beenplaying off any of her coquettish tricks? Was her encouragement of thepoor pedagogue all a mere sham to secure her conquest of his rival?Heaven only knows, not I! Let it suffice to say, Ichabod stole forthwith the air of one who had been sacking a henroost, rather than a fairlady's heart. Without looking to the right or left to notice the sceneof rural wealth, on which he had so often gloated, he went straight tothe stable, and with several hearty cuffs and kicks roused his steedmost uncourteously from the comfortable quarters in which he was soundlysleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, and whole valleys oftimothy and clover. 

It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted andcrest-fallen, pursued his travels homewards, along the sides of thelofty hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed socheerily in the afternoon. The hour was as dismal as himself. Far belowhim the Tappen Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, withhere and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at anchor underthe land. In the dead hush of midnight, he could even hear the barkingof the watchdog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but it was sovague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from thisfaithful companion of man. Now and then, too, the long-drawn crowing ofa cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off, from somefarmhouse away among the hills--but it was like a dreaming sound in hisear. No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally the melancholychirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a bull-frog from aneighbouring marsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably and turning suddenly inhis bed. 

All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoonnow came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker anddarker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving cloudsoccasionally hid them from his sight. He had never felt so lonely anddismal. He was, moreover, approaching the very place where many of thescenes of the ghost stories had been laid. In the centre of the roadstood an enormous tulip-tree, which towered like a giant above all theother trees of the neighbourhood, and formed a kind of landmark. Itslimbs were gnarled and fantastic, large enough to form trunks forordinary trees, twisting down almost to the earth, and rising again intothe air. It was connected with the tragical story of the unfortunateAndre, who had been taken prisoner hard by, and was universally known bythe name of Major Andre's tree. The common people regarded it with amixture of respect and superstition, partly out of sympathy for the fateof its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strangesights, and doleful lamentations, told concerning it. 

As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle; he thoughthis whistle was answered; it was but a blast sweeping sharply throughthe dry branches. As he approached a little nearer, he thought he sawsomething white, hanging in the midst of the tree: he paused, and ceasedwhistling; but, on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a placewhere the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood laidbare. Suddenly he heard a groan--his teeth chattered, and his kneessmote against the saddle: it was but the rubbing of one huge bough uponanother, as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree insafety, but new perils lay before him. 

About two hundred yards from the tree, a small brook crossed the road, and ran into a marshy and thickly-wooded glen, known by the name ofWiley's Swamp. A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridgeover this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered thewood, a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grape-vines, threw a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severesttrial. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate Andre wascaptured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were thesturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him. This has ever since beenconsidered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of theschoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark. 

As he approached the stream, his heart began to thump; he summoned up, however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in theribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead ofstarting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement, andran broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with thedelay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily with thecontrary foot: it was all in vain; his steed started, it is true, but itwas only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a thicket ofbrambles and alder-bushes. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip andheel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the bridge, with asuddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Justat this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge caught thesensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on the marginof the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, and towering. Itstirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some giganticmonster ready to spring upon the traveller. 

The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror. What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides, whatchance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, whichcould ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a showof courage, he demanded in stammering accents, "Who are you?" Hereceived no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitatedvoice. Still there was no answer. Once more he cudgelled the sides ofthe inflexible Gunpowder, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth withinvoluntary fervour into a psalm tune. Just then the shadowy object ofalarm put itself in motion, and with a scramble and a bound stood atonce in the middle of the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained. Heappeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a blackhorse of powerful frame. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road, jogging along on the blind sideof old Gunpowder, who had now got over his fright and waywardness. 

Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, andbethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the GallopingHessian, now quickened his steed in hopes of leaving him behind. Thestranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulledup, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind--the other did thesame. His heart began to sink within him; he endeavoured to resume hispsalm tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, andhe could not utter a stave. There was something in the moody and doggedsilence of this pertinacious companion that was mysterious andappalling. It was soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a risingground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in reliefagainst the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod washorror-struck on perceiving that he was headless! but his horror wasstill more increased on observing that the head, which should haverested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of hissaddle! His terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks andblows upon Gunpowder, hoping by a sudden movement to give his companionthe slip; but the spectre started full jump with him. Away, then, theydashed through thick and thin; stones flying and sparks flashing atevery bound. Ichabod's flimsy garments fluttered in the air, as hestretched his long lank body away over his horse's head, in theeagerness of his flight. 

They had now reached the road which turns off to Sleepy Hollow; butGunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon, instead of keeping up it, made an opposite turn, and plunged headlong down hill to the left. Thisroad leads through a sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarterof a mile, where it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story; and justbeyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church. 

As yet the panic of the steed had given his unskilful rider an apparentadvantage in the chase; but just as he had got half way through thehollow, the girths of the saddle gave way, and he felt it slipping fromunder him. He seized it by the pommel, and endeavoured to hold it firm, but in vain; and had just time to save himself by clasping old Gunpowderround the neck, when the saddle fell to the earth, and he heard ittrampled under foot by his pursuer. For a moment the terror of Hans VanRipper's wrath passed across his mind--for it was his Sunday saddle; butthis was no time for petty fears; the goblin was hard on his haunches;and (unskilful rider that he was!) he had much ado to maintain his seat;sometimes slipping on one side, sometimes on another, and sometimesjolted on the high ridge of his horse's backbone, with a violence thathe verily feared would cleave him asunder. 

An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the churchbridge was at hand. The wavering reflection of a silver star in thebosom of the brook told him that he was not mistaken. He saw the wallsof the church dimly glaring under the trees beyond. He recollected theplace where Brom Bones's ghostly competitor had disappeared. "If I canbut reach that bridge, " thought Ichabod, "I am safe. " Just then he heardthe black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even fanciedthat he felt his hot breath. Another convulsive kick in the ribs, andold Gunpowder sprang upon the bridge; he thundered over the resoundingplanks; he gained the opposite side; and now Ichabod cast a look behindto see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash offire and brimstone. Just then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeavoured tododge the horrible missile, but too late. It encountered his craniumwith a tremendous crash--he was tumbled headlong into the dust, andGunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by like awhirlwind. 

The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and withthe bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master'sgate. Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast; dinner-hourcame, but no Ichabod. The boys assembled at the schoolhouse, andstrolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no schoolmaster. HansVan Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poorIchabod, and his saddle. An inquiry was set on foot, and after diligentinvestigation they came upon his traces. In one part of the road leadingto the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks ofhorses' hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the dank of a broad part ofthe brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of theunfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin. 

The brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster was not to bediscovered. Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate, examined thebundle which contained all his worldly effects. They consisted of twoshirts and a half; two stocks for the neck; a pair or two of worstedstockings; an old pair of corduroy small-clothes; a rusty razor; a bookof psalm tunes full of dog's-ears; and a broken pitch-pipe. As to thebooks and furniture of the schoolhouse, they belonged to the community, excepting Cotton Mather's History of Witchcraft, a New England Almanac, and a book of dreams and fortune-telling; in which last was a sheet offoolscap much scribbled and blotted in several fruitless attempts tomake a copy of verses in honour of the heiress of Van Tassel. Thesemagic books and the poetic scrawl were forthwith consigned to the flamesby Hans Van Ripper; who, from that time forward, determined to send hischildren no more to school; observing that he never knew any good comeof this same reading and writing. Whatever money the schoolmasterpossessed, and he had received his quarter's pay but a day or twobefore, he must have had about his person at the time of hisdisappearance. 

The mysterious event caused much speculation at the church on thefollowing Sunday. Knots of gazers and gossips were collected in thechurchyard, at the bridge, and at the spot where the hat and pumpkin hadbeen found. The stories of Brouwer, of Bones, and a whole budget ofothers were called to mind; and when they had diligently considered themall, and compared them with the symptoms of the present case, they shooktheir heads, and came to the conclusion that Ichabod had been carriedoff by the Galloping Hessian. As he was a bachelor, and in nobody'sdebt, nobody troubled his head any more about him; the school wasremoved to a different quarter of the Hollow, and another pedagoguereigned in his stead. 

It is true, an old farmer, who had been down to New York on a visitseveral years after, and from whom this account of the ghostly adventurewas received, brought home the intelligence that Ichabod Crane was stillalive; that he had left the neighbourhood partly through fear of thegoblin and Hans Van Ripper, and partly in mortification at having beensuddenly dismissed by the heiress; that he had changed his quarters to adistant part of the country; had kept school and studied law at the sametime; had been admitted to the bar; turned politician; electioneered;written for the newspapers; and finally had been made a justice of theten pound court. Brom Bones, too, who, shortly after his rival'sdisappearance conducted the blooming Katrina in triumph to the altar, was observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of Ichabodwas related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the mention of thepumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more about the matterthan he chose to tell. 

The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of thesematters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away bysupernatural means; and it is a favourite story often told about theneighbourhood round the winter evening fire. The bridge became more thanever an object of superstitious awe; and that may be the reason why theroad has been altered of late years, so as to approach the church by theborder of the mill-pond. The schoolhouse being deserted soon fell todecay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortunatepedagogue; and the plough-boy, loitering homeward of a still summerevening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting amelancholy psalm tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.