CHAPTER THE TENTH.
Those were wild times--the antipodes of ours: Ladies were there, who oftener saw themselves In the broad lustre of a foeman's shield Than in a mirror, and who rather sought To match themselves in battle, than in dalliance To meet a lover's onset.--But though Nature Was outraged thus, she was not overcome. FEUDAL TIMES.
Brenhilda, Countess of Paris, was one of those stalwart dames whowillingly hazarded themselves in the front of battle, which, during thefirst crusade, was as common as it was possible for a very unnaturalcustom to be, and, in fact, gave the real instances of the Marphisasand Bradamantes, whom the writers of romance delighted to paint,assigning them sometimes the advantage of invulnerable armour, or aspear whose thrust did not admit of being resisted, in order to softenthe improbability of the weaker sex being frequently victorious overthe male part of the creation.
But the spell of Brenhilda was of a more simple nature, and restedchiefly in her great beauty.
From a girl she despised the pursuits of her sex; and they who venturedto become suitors for the hand of the young Lady of Aspramonte, towhich warlike fief she had succeeded, and which perhaps encouraged herin her fancy, received for answer, that they must first merit it bytheir good behaviour in the lists. The father of Brenhilda was dead;her mother was of a gentle temper, and easily kept under management bythe young lady herself.
Brenhilda's numerous suitors readily agreed to terms which were toomuch according to the manners of the age to be disputed. A tournamentwas held at the Castle of Aspramonte, in which one half of the gallantassembly rolled headlong before their successful rivals, and withdrewfrom the lists mortified and disappointed. The successful party amongthe suitors were expected to be summoned to joust among themselves. Butthey were surprised at being made acquainted with the lady's furtherwill. She aspired to wear armour herself, to wield a lance, and back asteed, and prayed the knights that they would permit a lady, whom theyprofessed to honour so highly, to mingle in their games of chivalry.The young knights courteously received their young mistress in thelists, and smiled at the idea of her holding them triumphantly againstso many gallant champions of the other sex. But the vassals and oldservants of the Count, her father, smiled to each other, and intimateda different result than the gallants anticipated. The knights whoencountered the fair Brenhilda were one by one stretched on the sand;nor was it to be denied, that the situation of tilting with one of thehandsomest women of the time was an extremely embarrassing one. Eachyouth was bent to withhold his charge in full volley, to cause hissteed to swerve at the full shock, or in some other way to flinch fromdoing the utmost which was necessary to gain the victory, lest, in sogaining it, he might cause irreparable injury to the beautiful opponenthe tilted with. But the Lady of Aspramonte was not one who could beconquered by less than the exertion of the whole strength and talentsof the victor. The defeated suitors departed from the lists the moremortified at their discomfiture, because Robert of Paris arrived atsunset, and, understanding what was going forward, sent his name to thebarriers, as that of a knight who would willingly forego the reward ofthe tournament, in case he had the fortune to gain it, declaring, thatneither lauds nor ladies' charms were what he came thither to seek.Brenhilda, piqued and mortified, chose a new lance, mounted her beststeed, and advanced into the lists as one determined to avenge upon thenew assailant's brow the slight of her charms which he seemed toexpress. But whether her displeasure had somewhat interfered with herusual skill, or whether she had, like others of her sex, felt apartiality towards one whose heart was not particularly set upongaining hers--or whether, as is often said on such occasions, her fatedhour was come, so it was that Count Robert tilted with his usualaddress and good fortune. Brenhilda of Aspramonte was unhorsed andunhelmed, and stretched on the earth, and the beautiful face, whichfaded from very red to deadly pale before the eyes of the victor,produced its natural effect in raising the value of his conquest. Hewould, in conformity with his resolution, have left the castle afterhaving mortified the vanity of the lady; but her mother opportunelyinterposed; and when she had satisfied herself that no serious injuryhad been sustained by the young heiress, she returned her thanks to thestranger knight who had taught her daughter a lesson, which, shetrusted, she would not easily forget. Thus tempted to do what hesecretly wished, Count Robert gave ear to those sentiments, whichnaturally whispered to him to be in no hurry to withdraw.
He was of the blood of Charlemagne, and, what was still of moreconsequence in the young lady's eyes, one of the most renowned ofNorman knights in that jousting day. After a residence of ten days inthe castle of Aspramonte, the bride and bridegroom set out, for suchwas Count Robert's will, with a competent train, to our Lady of theBroken Lances, where it pleased him to be wedded. Two knights who werewaiting to do battle, as was the custom of the place, were ratherdisappointed at the nature of the cavalcade, which seemed to interrupttheir purpose. But greatly were they surprised when they received acartel from the betrothed couple, offering to substitute their ownpersons in the room of other antagonists, and congratulating themselvesin commencing their married life in a manner so consistent with thatwhich they had hitherto led. They were victorious as usual; and theonly persons having occasion to rue the complaisance of the Count andhis bride, were the two strangers, one of whom broke an arm in therencontre, and the other dislocated a collar-bone.
Count Robert's course of knight-errantry did not seem to be in theleast intermitted by his marriage; on the contrary, when he was calledupon to support his renown, his wife was often known also in militaryexploits, nor was she inferior to him in thirst after fame. They bothassumed the cross at the same time, that being then the predominatingfolly in Europe.
The Countess Brenhilda was now above six-and-twenty years old, with asmuch beauty as can well fall to the share of an Amazon. A figure, ofthe largest feminine size, was surmounted by a noble countenance, towhich even repeated warlike toils had not given more than a sunny hue,relieved by the dazzling whiteness of such parts of her face as werenot usually displayed.
As Alexius gave orders that his retinue should return toConstantinople, he spoke in private to the Follower, Achilles Tatius.The Satrap answered with a submissive bend of the head, and separatedwith a few attendants from the main body of the Emperor's train. Theprincipal road to the city was, of course, filled with the troops, andwith the numerous crowds of spectators, all of whom were inconveniencedin some degree by the dust and heat of the weather.
Count Robert of Paris had embarked his horses on board of ship, and allhis retinue, except an old squire or valet of his own, and an attendantof his wife. He felt himself more incommoded in this crowd than hedesired, especially as his wife shared it with him, and began to lookamong the scattered trees which fringed the shores, down almost to thetide-mark, to see if he could discern any by-path which might carrythem more circuitously, but more pleasantly, to the city, and affordthem at the same time, what was their principal object in the East,strange sights, or adventures of chivalry. A broad and beaten pathseemed to promise them all the enjoyment which shade could give in awarm climate. The ground through which it wound its way was beautifullybroken by the appearance of temples, churches, and kiosks, and here andthere a fountain distributed its silver produce, like a benevolentindividual, who, self-denying to himself, is liberal to all others whoare in necessity. The distant sound of the martial music still regaledtheir way; and, at the same time, as it detained the populace on thehigh-road, prevented the strangers from becoming incommoded withfellow-travellers.
Rejoicing in the abated heat of the day-wondering, at the same time, atthe various kinds of architecture, the strange features of thelandscape, or accidental touches of manners, exhibited by those who metor passed them upon their journey, they strolled easily onwards. Onefigure particularly caught the attention of the Countess Brenhilda.This was an old man of great stature, engaged, apparently, so deeplywith the roll of parchment which he held in his
hand, that he paid noattention to the objects which were passing around him. Deep thoughtappeared to reign on his brow, and his eye was of that piercing kindwhich seems designed to search and winnow the frivolous from theedifying part of human discussion, and limit its inquiry to the last.Raising his eyes slowly from the parchment on which he had been gazing,the look of Agelastes--for it was the sage himself--encountered thoseof Count Robert and his lady, and addressing them, with the kindlyepithet of "my children," he asked if they had missed their road, orwhether there was any thing in which he could do them any pleasure.
"We are strangers, father," was the answer, "from a distant country,and belonging to the army which has passed hither upon pilgrimage; oneobject brings us here in common, we hope, with all that host. We desireto pay our devotions where the great ransom was paid for us, and tofree, by our good swords, enslaved Palestine, from the usurpation andtyranny of the infidel. When we have said this, we have announced ourhighest human motive. Yet Robert of Paris and his Countess would notwillingly set their foot on a land, save what should resound its echo.They have not been accustomed to move in silence upon the face of theearth, and they would purchase an eternal life of fame, though it wereat the price of mortal existence."
"You seek, then, to barter safety for fame," said Agelastes, "thoughyou may, perchance, throw death into the scale by which you hope togain it?"
"Assuredly," said Count Robert; "nor is there one wearing such a beltas this, to whom such a thought is stranger."
"And as I understand," said Agelastes, "your lady shares with yourhonourable self in these valorous resolutions?--Can this be?"
"You may undervalue my female courage, father, if such is your will,"said the Countess; "but I speak in presence of a witness who can attestthe truth, when I say that a man of half your years had not doubted thetruth with impunity."
"Nay, Heaven protect me from the lightning of your eyes," saidAgelastes, "whether in anger or in scorn. I bear an aegis about myselfagainst what I should else have feared. But age, with its incapacities,brings also its apologies. Perhaps, indeed, it is one like me whom youseek to find, and in that case I should be happy to render to you suchservices as it is my duty to offer to all worthy knights."
"I have already said," replied Count Robert, "that after theaccomplishment of my vow,"--he looked upwards and crossedhimself,--"there is nothing on earth to which I am more bound than tocelebrate my name in arms as becomes a valiant cavalier. When men dieobscurely, they die for ever. Had my ancestor Charles never left thepaltry banks of the Saale, he had not now been much better known thanany vine-dresser who wielded his pruning-hook in the same territories.But he bore him like a brave man, and his name is deathless in thememory of the worthy."
"Young man," said the old Grecian, "although it is but seldom that suchas you, whom I was made to serve and to value, visit this country, itis not the less true that I am well qualified to serve you in thematter which you have so much at heart. My acquaintance with nature hasbeen so perfect and so long, that, during its continuance, she hasdisappeared, and another world has been spread before me, in which shehas but little to do. Thus the curious stores which I have assembledare beyond the researches of other men, and not to be laid before thosewhose deeds of valour are to be bounded by the ordinary probabilitiesof everyday nature. No romancer of your romantic country ever devisedsuch extraordinary adventures out of his own imagination, and to feedthe idle wonder of those who sat listening around, as those which Iknow, not of idle invention, but of real positive existence, with themeans of achieving and accomplishing the conditions of each adventure."
"If such be your real profession," said the French Count, "you have metone of those whom you chiefly search for; nor will my Countess and Istir farther upon our road until you have pointed out to us some one ofthose adventures which, it is the business of errant-knights to beindustrious in seeking out."
So saying, he sat down by the side of the old man; and his lady, with adegree of reverence which had something in it almost diverting,followed his example.
"We have fallen right, Brenhilda," said Count Robert; "our guardian.angel has watched his charge carefully. Here have we come among an,ignorant set of pedants, chattering their absurd language, and holdingmore important the least look that a cowardly Emperor can give, thanthe best blow that a good knight can deal. Believe me, I was wellnighthinking that we had done ill to take the cross--God forgive such animpious doubt! Yet here, when we were even despairing to find the roadto fame, we have met with one of those excellent men whom the knightsof yore were wont to find sitting by springs, by crosses, and byaltars, ready to direct the wandering knight where fame was to befound. Disturb him not, my Brenhilda," said the Count, "but let himrecall to himself his stories of the ancient time, and thou shalt seehe will enrich us with the treasures of his information."
"If," replied Agelastes, after some pause, "I have waited for a longerterm than human life is granted to most men, I shall still be overpaidby dedicating what remains of existence to the service of a pair sodevoted to chivalry. What first occurs to me is a story of our Greekcountry, so famous in adventures, and which I shall briefly detail toyou:--
"Afar hence, in our renowned Grecian Archipelago, amid storms andwhirlpools, rocks which, changing their character, appear toprecipitate themselves against each other, and billows that are neverin a pacific state, lies the rich island of Zulichium, inhabited,notwithstanding its wealth, by a very few natives, who live only uponthe sea-coast. The inland part of the island is one immense mountain,or pile of mountains, amongst which, those who dare approach nearenough, may, we are assured, discern the moss-grown and antiquatedtowers and pinnacles of a stately, but ruinous castle, the habitationof the sovereign of the island, in which she has been, enchanted for agreat many years.
"A bold knight, who came upon, a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, made a vow todeliver this unhappy victim of pain and sorcery; feeling, with justice,vehemently offended, that the fiends of darkness should exercise anyauthority near the Holy Land, which might be termed the very fountainof light. Two of the oldest inhabitants of the island undertook toguide him as near to the main gate as they durst, nor did they approachit more closely than the length of a bow-shot. Here, then, abandoned tohimself, the brave Frank set forth upon his enterprise, with a stoutheart, and Heaven alone to friend. The fabric which he approachedshowed, by its gigantic size, and splendour of outline, the power andwealth of the potentate who had erected it. The brazen gates unfoldedthemselves as if with hope and pleasure; and aerial voices swept aroundthe spires and turrets, congratulating the genius of the place, itmight be, upon the expected approach of its deliverer.
"The knight passed on, not unmoved with wonder, though untainted byfear; and the Gothic splendours which he saw were of a kind highly toexalt his idea of the beauty of the mistress for whom a prison-househad been so richly decorated. Guards there were in Eastern dress andarms, upon bulwark and buttress, in readiness, it appeared, to bendtheir bows; but the warriors were motionless and silent, and took nomore notice of the armed step of the knight than if a monk or hermithad approached their guarded post. They were living, and yet, as to allpower and sense, they might be considered among the dead. If there wastruth in the old tradition, the sun had shone and the rain had fallenupon them for more than four hundred changing seasons, without theirbeing sensible of the genial warmth of the one or the coldness of theother. Like the Israelites in the desert, their shoes had not decayed,nor their vestments waxed old. As Time left them, so and withoutalteration was he again to find them." The philosopher began now torecall what he had heard of the cause of their enchantment.
"The sage to whom this potent charm is imputed, was one of the Magi whofollowed the tenets of Zoroaster. He had come to the court of thisyouthful Princess, who received him with every attention whichgratified vanity could dictate, so that in a short time her awe of thisgrave personage was lost in the sense of ascendency which her beautygave her over him. It was no difficult matter--in fact it
happens everyday--for the beautiful woman to lull the wise man into what is notinaptly called a fool's paradise. The sage was induced to attempt featsof youth which his years rendered ridiculous; he could command theelements, but the common course of nature was beyond his power. When,therefore, he exerted his magic strength, the mountains bent and theseas receded; but when the philosopher attempted to lead forth thePrincess of Zulichium in the youthful dance, youths and maidens turnedtheir heads aside lest they should make too manifest the ludicrousideas with which they were impressed.
"Unhappily, as the aged, even the wisest of them, will forgetthemselves, so the young naturally enter into an alliance to spy out,ridicule, and enjoy their foibles. Many were the glances which thePrincess sent among her retinue, intimating the nature of the amusementwhich she received from the attentions of her formidable lover. Inprocess of time she lost her caution, and a glance was detected,expressing to the old man the ridicule and contempt in which he hadbeen all along held by the object of his affections. Earth has nopassion so bitter as love converted to hatred; and while the sagebitterly regretted what he had done, he did not the less resent thelight-hearted folly of the Princess by whom he had been duped.
"If, however, he was angry, he possessed the art to conceal it. Not aword, not a look expressed the bitter disappointment which he hadreceived. A shade of melancholy, or rather gloom, upon his brow, aloneintimated the coming storm. The Princess became somewhat alarmed; shewas besides extremely good-natured, nor had her intentions of leadingthe old man into what would render him ridiculous, been so accuratelyplanned with malice prepense, as they were the effect of accident andchance. She saw the pain which he suffered, and thought to end it bygoing up to him, when about to retire, and kindly wishing himgood-night.
"'You say well, daughter,' said the sage, 'good-night--but who, of thenumbers who hear me, shall say good-morning?'
"The speech drew little attention, although two or three persons towhom the character of the sage was known, fled from the island thatvery night, and by their report made known the circumstances attendingthe first infliction of this extraordinary spell on those who remainedwithin the Castle. A sleep like that of death fell upon them, and wasnot removed. Most of the inhabitants left the island; the few whoremained were cautious how they approached the Castle, and watcheduntil some bold adventurer should bring that happy awakening which thespeech of the sorcerer seemed in some degree to intimate.
"Never seemed there a fairer opportunity for that awakening to takeplace than when the proud step of Artavan de Hautlieu was placed uponthose enchanted courts. On the left, lay the palace and donjon-keep;but the right, more attractive, seemed to invite to the apartment ofthe women. At a side door, reclined on a couch, two guards of theharam, with their naked swords grasped in their hands, and featuresfiendishly contorted between sleep and dissolution, seemed to menacedeath to any who should venture to approach. This threat deterred notArtavan de Hautlieu. He approached the entrance, when the doors, likethose of the great entrance to the Castle, made themselves instantlyaccessible to him. A guard-room of the same effeminate soldiersreceived him, nor could the strictest examination have discovered tohim whether it was sleep or death which arrested the eyes that seemedto look upon and prohibit his advance. Unheeding the presence of theseghastly sentinels, Artavan pressed forward into an inner apartment,where female slaves of the most distinguished beauty were visible inthe attitude of those who had already assumed their dress for thenight. There was much in this scene which might have arrested so younga pilgrim as Artavan of Hautlieu; but his heart was fixed on achievingthe freedom of the beautiful Princess, nor did he suffer himself to bewithdrawn from that object by any inferior consideration. He passed on,therefore, to a little ivory door, which, after a moment's pause, as ifin maidenly hesitation, gave way like the rest, and yielded access tothe sleeping apartment of the Princess herself. A soft light,resembling that of evening, penetrated into a chamber where every thingseemed contrived to exalt the luxury of slumber. The heaps of cushions,which formed a stately bed, seemed rather to be touched than impressedby the form of a nymph of fifteen, the renowned Princess of Zulichium."
"Without interrupting you, good father," said the Countess Brenhilda,"it seems to me that we can comprehend the picture of a woman asleepwithout much dilating upon it, and that such a subject is littlerecommended either by our age or by yours."
"Pardon me, noble lady," answered Agelastes, "the most approved part ofmy story has ever been this passage, and while I now suppress it inobedience to your command, bear notice, I pray you, that I sacrificethe most beautiful part of the tale."
"Brenhilda," added the Count, "I am surprised you think of interruptinga story which has hitherto proceeded with so much fire; the telling ofa few words more or less will surely have a much greater influenceupon, the sense of the narrative, than such an addition can possiblypossess over our sentiments of action."
"As you will," said his lady, throwing herself carelessly back upon theseat; "but methinks the worthy father protracts this discourse, till itbecomes of a nature more trifling than interesting."
"Brenhilda," said the Count, "this is the first time I have remarked inyou a woman's weakness."
"I may as well say, Count Robert, that it is the first time," answeredBrenhilda, "that you have shown to me the inconstancy of your sex."
"Gods and goddesses," said the philosopher, "was ever known a quarrelmore absurdly founded! The Countess is jealous of one whom her husbandprobably never will see, nor is there any prospect that the Princess ofZulichium will be hereafter better known, to the modern world, than ifthe curtain hung before her tomb."
"Proceed," said Count Robert of Paris; "if Sir Artavan of Hautlieu hasnot accomplished the enfranchisement of the Princess of Zulichium, Imake a vow to our Lady of the Broken Lances,"--
"Remember," said his lady interfering, "that you are already under avow to free the Sepulchre of God; and to that, methinks, all lighterengagements might give place."
"Well, lady--well," said Count Robert, but half satisfied with thisinterference, "I will not engage myself, you may be assured, on anyadventure which may claim precedence of the enterprise of the HolySepulchre, to which we are all bound."
"Alas!" said Agelastes, "the distance of Zulichium from the speediestroute to the sepulchre is so small that"--
"Worthy father," said the Countess, "we will, if it pleases you, hearyour tale to an end, and then determine what we will do. We Normanladies, descendants of the old Germans, claim a voice with our lords inthe council which precedes the battle; nor has our assistance in theconflict been deemed altogether useless."
The tone in which this was spoken conveyed an awkward innuendo to thephilosopher, who began to foresee that the guidance of the Normanknight would be more difficult than he had foreseen, while his consortremained by his side. He took up, therefore, his oratory on somewhat alower key than before, and avoided those warm descriptions which hadgiven such offence to the Countess Brenhilda.
"Sir Artavan de Hautlieu, says the story, considered in what way heshould accost the sleeping damsel, when it occurred to him in whatmanner the charm would be most likely to be reversed. I am in yourjudgment, fair lady, if he judged wrong in resolving that the method ofhis address should be a kiss upon the lips." The colour of Brenhildawas somewhat heightened, but she did not deem the observation worthy ofnotice.
"Never had so innocent an action," continued the philosopher, "aneffect more horrible. The delightful light of a summer evening wasinstantly changed into a strange lurid hue, which, infected withsulphur, seemed to breathe suffocation through the apartment. The richhangings, and splendid furniture of the chamber, the very wallsthemselves, were changed into huge stones tossed together at random,like the inside of a wild beast's den, nor was the den without aninhabitant. The beautiful and innocent lips to which Artavan deHautlieu had approached his own, were now changed into the hideous andbizarre form, and bestial aspect of a fiery dragon. A moment shehovered upon the wi
ng, and it is said, had Sir Artavan found courage torepeat his salute three times, he would then have remained master ofall the wealth, and of the disenchanted princess. But the opportunitywas lost, and the dragon, or the creature who seemed such, sailed outat a side window upon its broad pennons, uttering loud wails ofdisappointment."
Here ended the story of Agelastes. "The Princess," he said, "is stillsupposed to abide her doom in the Island of Zulichium, and severalknights have undertaken the adventure; but I know not whether it wasthe fear of saluting the sleeping maiden, or that of approaching thedragon into which she was transformed, but so it is, the spell remainsunachieved. I know the way, and if you say the word, you may beto-morrow on the road to the castle of enchantment."
The Countess heard this proposal with the deepest anxiety, for she knewthat she might, by opposition, determine her husband irrevocably uponfollowing out the enterprise. She stood therefore with a timid andbashful look, strange in a person whose bearing was generally sodauntless, and prudently left it to the uninfluenced mind of CountRobert to form the resolution which should best please him.
"Brenhilda," he said, taking her hand, "fame and honour are dear to thyhusband as ever they were to knight who buckled a brand upon his side.Thou hast done, perhaps, I may say, for me, what I might in vain havelooked for from ladies of thy condition; and therefore thou mayst wellexpect a casting voice in such points of deliberation.--Why dost thouwander by the side of a foreign and unhealthy shore, instead of thebanks of the lovely Seine?--Why dost thou wear a dress unusual to thysex?--Why dost thou seek death, and think it little in comparison ofshame?--Why? but that the Count of Paris may have a bride worthy ofhim.--Dost thou think that this affection is thrown away? No, by thesaints! Thy knight repays it as he best ought, and sacrifices to theeevery thought which thy affection may less than entirely approve."
Poor Brenhilda, confused as she was by the various emotions with whichshe was agitated, now in vain endeavoured to maintain the heroicdeportment which her character as an Amazon required from her. Sheattempted to assume the proud and lofty look which was properly herown, but failing in the effort, she threw herself into the Count'sarms, hung round his neck, and wept like a, village maiden, whose truelove is pressed for the wars. Her husband, a little ashamed, while hewas much moved by this burst of affection in one to whose character itseemed an unusual attribute, was, at the same time, pleased and proudthat he could have awakened an affection so genuine and so gentle in asoul so high-spirited and so unbending.
"Not thus," he said, "my Brenhilda! I would not have it thus, eitherfor thine own sake or for mine. Do not let this wise old man supposethat thy heart is made of the malleable stuff which forms that of othermaidens; and apologize to him, as may well become thee, for havingprevented my undertaking the adventure of Zulichium, which herecommends."
It was not easy for Brenhilda to recover herself, after having affordedso notable an instance how nature can vindicate her rights, withwhatever rigour she may have been disciplined and tyrannized over. Witha look of ineffable affection, she disjoined herself from her husband,still keeping hold of his hand, and turning to the old man with acountenance in which the half-effaced tears were succeeded by smiles ofpleasure and of modesty, she spoke to Agelastes as she would to aperson whom she respected, and towards whom she had some offence toatone. "Father," she said, respectfully, "be not angry with me that Ishould have been an obstacle to one of the best knights that everspurred steed, undertaking the enterprise of thine enchanted Princess;but the truth is, that in our land, where knighthood and religion agreein permitting only one lady love, and one lady wife, we do not quite sowillingly see our husbands run into danger--especially of that kindwhere lonely ladies are the parties relieved--and--and kisses are theransom paid. I have as much confidence in my Robert's fidelity, as alady can have in a loving knight, but still"--
"Lovely lady," said Agelastes, who, notwithstanding his highlyartificial character, could not help being moved by the simple andsincere affection of the handsome young pair, "you have done no evil.The state of the Princess is no worse than it was, and there cannot bea doubt that the knight fated to relieve her, will appear at thedestined period." The Countess smiled sadly, and shook her head. "Youdo not know," she said, "how powerful is the aid of which I haveunhappily deprived this unfortunate lady, by a jealousy which I nowfeel to have been alike paltry and unworthy; and, such is my regret,that I could find in my heart to retract my opposition to CountRobert's undertaking this adventure." She looked at her husband withsome anxiety, as one that had made an offer she would not willingly seeaccepted, and did not recover her courage until he said, decidedly,"Brenhilda, that may not be."
"And why, then, may not Brenhilda herself take the adventure,"continued the Countess, "since she can neither fear the charms of thePrincess nor the terrors of the dragon?"
"Lady," said Agelastes, "the Princess must be awakened by the kiss oflove, and not by that of friendship."
"A sufficient reason," said the Countess, smiling, "why a lady may notwish her lord to go forth upon an adventure of which the conditions areso regulated."
"Noble minstrel, or herald, or by whatever name this country callsyou," said Count Robert, "accept a small remuneration for an hourpleasantly spent, though spent, unhappily, in vain. I should make someapology for the meanness of my offering, but French knights, you mayhave occasion to know, are more full of fame than of wealth."
"Not for that, noble sir," replied Agelastes, "would I refuse yourmunificence; a besant from your worthy hand, or that of yournoble-minded lady, were centupled in its value, by the eminence of thepersons from whom it came. I would hang it round my neck by a string ofpearls, and when I came into the presence of knights and of ladies, Iwould proclaim that this addition to my achievement of armorialdistinction, was bestowed by the renowned Count Robert of Paris, andhis unequalled lady." The Knight and the Countess looked on each other,and the lady, taking from her finger a ring of pure gold, prayed theold man to accept of it, as a mark of her esteem and her husband's."With one other condition," said the philosopher, "which I trust youwill not find altogether unsatisfactory. I have, on the way to the cityby the most pleasant road, a small kiosk, or hermitage, where Isometimes receive my friends, who, I venture to say, are among the mostrespectable personages of this empire. Two or three of these willprobably honour my residence today, and partake of the provision itaffords. Could I add to these the company of the noble Count andCountess of Paris, I should deem my poor habitation honoured for ever."
"How say you, my noble wife?" said the Count. "The company of aminstrel befits the highest birth, honours the highest rank, and addsto the greatest achievements; and the invitation does us too muchcredit to be rejected."
"It grows somewhat late," said the Countess: "but we came not here toshun a sinking sun or a darkening sky, and I feel it my duty, as wellas my satisfaction, to place at the command of the good father everypleasure which it is in my power to offer to him, for having been themeans of your neglecting his advice."
"The path is so short," said Agelastes, "that we had better keep ourpresent mode of travelling, if the lady should not want the assistanceof horses."
"No horses on my account," said the Lady Brenhilda. "My waiting-woman,Agatha, has what necessaries I may require; and, for the rest, noknight ever travelled so little embarrassed with baggage as my husband."
Agelastes, therefore, led the way through the deepening wood, which wasfreshened by the cooler breath of evening, and his guests accompaniedhim.