The Book of Brave Old Ballads Part 20
This quickly found the youthful pair, Who boldly crossing o'er, The jangling sound bedeaft their ears, And rung from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.
Quick at the sound the castle gates Unlock'd and opened wide, And straight a giant huge and grim Stalk'd forth with stately pride.
Now yield you, caitiffs, to my will, He cried with hideous roar; Or else the wolves shall eat your flesh, And ravens drink your gore.
Vain boaster, said the youthful knight, I scorn thy threats and thee: I trust to force thy brazen gates, And set thy captives free.
Then putting spurs unto his steed, He aim'd a dreadful thrust; The spear against the giant glanc'd, And caus'd the blood to burst.
Mad and outrageous with the pain, He whirl'd his mace of steel: The very wind of such a blow Had made the champion reel.
It haply missed; and now the knight His glittering sword display'd, And riding round with whirlwind speed Oft made him feel the blade.
As when a large and monstrous oak Unceasing axes hew: So fast around the giant's limbs The blows quick-darting flew.
As when the boughs with hideous fall Some hapless woodman crush: With such a force the enormous foe Did on the champion rush.
A fearful blow, alas! there came, Both horse and knight it took, And laid them senseless in the dust; So fatal was the stroke.
Then smiling forth a hideous grin, The giant strides in haste, And, stooping, aims a second stroke: Now, caitiff, breathe thy last!
But ere it fell, two thundering blows Upon his scull descend: From Ursine's knotty club they came, Who ran to save his friend.
Down sank the giant gaping wide, And rolling his grim eyes: The hairy youth repeats his blows: He gasps, he groans, he dies.
Quickly sir Valentine reviv'd, With Ursine's timely care: And now to search the castle walls The venturous youths repair.
The blood and bones of murder'd knight They found where'er they came: At length within a lonely cell They saw a mournful dame.
Her gentle eyes were dimm'd with tears; Her cheeks were pale with woe; And long sir Valentine besought Her doleful tale to know.
Alas! young knight, she weeping said, Condole my wretched fate; A childless mother here you see; A wife without a mate.
These twenty winters here forlorn I've drawn my hated breath; Sole witness of a monster's crimes, And wishing aye for death.
Know, I am sister of a king, And in my early years Was married to a mighty prince, The fairest of his peers.
With him I sweetly liv'd in love A twelvemonth and a day: When, lo! a foul and treacherous priest Y-wrought our loves' decay.
His seeming goodness won him pow'r; He had his master's ear: And long to me and all the world He did a saint appear.
One day, when we were all alone, He proffer'd odious love: The wretch with horror I repuls'd, And from my presence drove.
He feign'd remorse, and piteous begg'd His crime I'd not reveal: Which, for his seeming penitence, I promis'd to conceal.
With treason, villainy, and wrong, My goodness he repay'd: With jealous doubts he fill'd my lord, And me to woe betray'd.
He hid a slave within my bed, Then rais'd a bitter cry.
My lord, possess'd with rage, condemn'd Me, all unheard, to die.
But 'cause I then was great with child, At length my life he spar'd: But bade me instant quit the realm, One trusty knight my guard.
Forth on my journey I depart, Oppressed with grief and woe: And tow'rds my brother's distant court, With breaking heart, I go.
Long time thro' sundry foreign lands We slowly pace along: At length, within a forest wild, I fell in labour strong:
And while the knight for succour sought, And left me there forlorn, My childbed pains so fast increas'd Two lovely boys were born.
The eldest fair and smooth as snow That tips the mountain h.o.a.r; The younger's little body rough With hairs was cover'd o'er.
But here afresh begin my woes: While tender care I took To shield my eldest from the cold, And wrap him in my cloak,
A prowling bear burst from the wood, And seiz'd my younger son: Affection lent my weakness wings, And after them I run.
But all forwearied, weak, and spent, I quickly swoon'd away; And there beneath the greenwood shade Long time I lifeless lay.
At length the knight brought me relief, And rais'd me from the ground: But neither of my pretty babes Could ever more be found.
And, while in search we wander'd far, We met that giant grim; Who ruthless slew my trusty knight, And bare me off with him.
But charm'd by heav'n, or else my griefs, He offer'd me no wrong; Save that within these lonely walls I've been immur'd so long.
Now surely, said the youthful knight, You are Lady Ballisance, Wife to the Grecian Emperor: Your brother's king of France.
For in your royal brother's court Myself my breeding had; Where oft the story of your woes Hath made my bosom sad.
If so, know your accuser's dead, And dying own'd his crime; And long your lord hath sought you out Thro' every foreign clime.
And when no tidings he could learn Of his much wronged wife, He vow'd thenceforth within his court To lead a hermit's life.
Now heaven is kind! the lady said; And dropped a joyful tear: Shall I once more behold my lord?
That lord I love so dear?
But, madam, said sir Valentine, And knelt upon his knee; Know you the cloak that wrapt your babe, If you the same should see?
And pulling forth the cloth of gold, In which himself was found; The lady gave a sudden shriek, And fainted on the ground.
But by his pious care reviv'd, His tale she heard anon; And soon by other tokens found, He was indeed her son.
But who's this hairy youth? she said; He much resembles thee: The bear devour'd my younger son, Or sure that son were he.
Madam, this youth with bears was bred, And rear'd within their den.
But recollect ye any mark To know your son again?
Upon his little side, quoth she, Was stamped a b.l.o.o.d.y rose.
Here, lady, see the crimson mark Upon his body grows!
Then clasping both her new-found sons She bath'd their cheeks with tears: And soon towards her brother's court Her joyful course she steers.