Old French Romances, Done into English by William Morris (large screen ebook reader .txt) 📕

thou so much?  Forsooth, all these words well befit a good lady and wise to say; and so, may help me God, she is both wise and valiant.  Wherefore I counsel thee in good faith that thou look to a day when thou canst be there; that thou send greeting to her that thou wilt be there on such day to do her honour, and take her to wife.”  “Forsooth,” said King Florus, “I will send word that I will be there in the month of Paske, and that she apparel her to receive such a man as I be.”  Then said King Florus to the knight who had been to the lady, that within three days he should go his ways to tell the lady these tidings.  So on the third day the knight departed, and went so much that he came to the lady, and said that the king sent word that he would be with her in the month of Paske; and she answered that it was so by God’s will, and that she would speak with her friends, and that she would be arrayed to do his will as the honour of a good lady called on her.  After these words departed the knight, and came to his lord King Florus, and told him the answer of the fair lady, as ye have heard it.  So King Florus of Ausay dight his departure, and went his ways with a right great folk to come to the country of the fair lady; and when he was come thither, he took her and wedded her, and had great joy and great feast thereof.  Then he led her into his country where folk made exceeding great joy of her.  But King Florus loved her much for her great beauty, and for the great wit and great valiancy that was in her.

And within the year that he had taken her to wife, she was big with child, and she bore the fruit of her belly so long as right was, and was delivered of a daughter first, and of a son thereafter, who had to name Florence and the daughter had to name Floria.  And the child Florence was exceeding fair, and when he was a knight he was the best that knew arms in his time, so that he was chosen to be Emperor of Constantinople.  A much valiant man was he, and wrought much wrack and dole on the Saracens.  But the daughter became queen of the land of her father, and the son of the King of Hungary took her to wife, and lady she was of two realms.

This great honour gave God to the fair lady for the goodness of her and her loyalty.  A great while abode King Florus with that fair lady; and when it pleased God that his time came, he had such goodly knowledge that God had in him a fair soul.  Thereafter the lady lived but a half year, and passed away from the world as one good and loyal, and had fair end and good knowledge.

Here endeth the tale of King Florus and the Fair Jehane.

p. 117The History of Over Sea

In years bygone was a Count of Ponthieu, who loved much chivalry and the world, and was a much valiant man and a good knight.

In the same times was a Count of St. Pol, who held all the country, and was lord thereof, and a man much valiant.  He had no heir of his flesh, whereof he was sore grieving; but a sister he had, a much good dame, and a valiant woman of much avail, who was Dame of Dontmart in Ponthieu.  The said dame had a son, Thibault by name, who was heir of the country of St. Pol, but a poor man so long as his uncle lived; he was a brave knight and a valiant, and good at arms: noble he was, and goodly, and was much honoured and loved of good folk; for a high man he was, and gentle of blood.

Now the Count of Ponthieu, with whom beginneth this tale, had a wife, a much good dame: of the said dame he had a daughter, much good and of much avail, the which waxed in great beauty and multiplied in much good; and she was of well sixteen years of age.  But within the third year of her birth, her mother died, whereof sore troubled she was and much sorrowful.

The Count, her father, wedded him right speedily thereafter, and took a high lady and a gentle; and in a little while the Count had of the said lady a son, whom he loved much.  The said son waxed in great worth and in great goodness, and multiplied in great good.

The Count of Ponthieu, who was a valiant man, saw my lord Thibault of Dontmart, and summoned him, and retained him of his meney; and when he had him of his meney he was much joyous thereat, for the Count multiplied in great good and in great avail by means of him.

As they returned from a tournament, the Count called to him Messire Thibault, and asked of him and said: “Thibault, as God may help thee, tell me what jewel of my land thou lovest the best?”  “Sir,” said Messire Thibault, “I am but a poor man, but, as God may help me, of all the jewels of thy land I love none so much as my damosel, thy daughter.”  The Count, when he heard that, was much merry and joyful in his heart, and said: “Thibault, I will give her to thee if she will.”  “Sir,” said he, “much great thank have thou; God reward thee.”

Then went the Count to his daughter, and said to her: “Fair daughter, I have married thee, save by thee be any hindrance.”  “Sir,” said she, “unto whom?”  “A-God’s name,” said he, “to a much valiant man, of much avail: to a knight of mine, who hath to name Thibault of Dontmart.”  “Ha,” sir, said she, “if thy country were a kingdom, and should come to me all wholly, forsooth I should hold me right well wedded in him.”  “Daughter,” said the Count, “blessed be thine heart, and the hour wherein thou wert born.”

So the wedding was done; the Count of Ponthieu and the Count of St. Pol were thereat, and many another good valiant man.  With great joy were they assembled, in great lordship and in great mirth: and in great joy dwelt those together for five years.  But it pleased not our Lord Jesus Christ that they should have an heir of their flesh, which was a heavy matter to both of them.

On a night lay Messire Thibault in his bed and pondered sore, and said: “God! of whom it cometh that I love so much this dame, and she me, and forsooth no heir of our flesh may we have, whereby God might be served, and good be done to the world.”  Therewith he thought on my lord St. Jakeme, the apostle of Galicia, who would give to such as crave aright that which by right they crave, and he behight him the road thither in his heart.

The dame was a-sleeping yet, and whenas she awoke he held her betwixt his arms, and prayed her that she would give him a gift.  “Sir,” said the dame, “and what gift?”  “Dame,” said he, “thou shalt wot that when I have it.”  “Sir,” she said, “if I may give it, I will give it, whatso it may be.”  “Dame,” he said, “I crave leave of thee to go to my lord St. Jacque the Apostle, that he may pray our Lord Jesus Christ to give us an heir of our flesh, whereby God may be served in this world, and the Holy Church refreshed.”  “Sir,” said the dame, “the gift is full courteous, and much debonairly will I grant it thee.”

In much great joy were they for long while: wore one day, and another, and a third; and it befell that they lay together in bed on a night, and then said the dame: “Sir, I pray and require of thee a gift.”  “Dame,” said he, “ask, and I will give it, if give it I may.”  “Sir,” she said, “I crave leave of thee to go with thee on thy journey.”

When Messire Thibault heard that, he was much sorrowful, and said: “Dame, grievous thing would it be to thine heart, for the way is much longsome, and the land is much strange and much diverse.”  She said: “Sir, doubt thou nought of me, for of such littlest squire that thou hast, shalt thou be more hindered than of me.”  “Dame,” said he, “a-God’s name, I grant it thee.”

Day came, and the tidings ran so far till the Count of Ponthieu knew it, and sent for Messire Thibault, and said: “Thibault, thou art vowed a pilgrim, as they tell me, and my daughter also?”  “Sir,” said he, “that is sooth.”  “Thibault,” said the Count, “concerning thee it is well, but concerning my daughter it is heavy on me.”  “Sir,” said Messire Thibault, “I might not naysay her.”  “Thibault,” said the Count, “bestir ye when ye will; so hasten ye your palfreys, your nags, and your sumpter-beasts; and I will give you pennies and havings enow.”  “Sir,” said Messire Thibault, “great thank I give thee.”

So then they arrayed them, and departed with great joy; and they went so far by their journeys, that they drew nigh to St. Jacque by less than two days.

On a night they came to a good town, and in the evening Messire Thibault called his host, and asked him concerning the road for the morrow, what road they should find, and what like it might be; and he said to him: “Fair sir, at the going forth from this town ye shall find somewhat of a forest to pass through, and all the day after a good road.”  Therewith they held their peace, and the bed was apparelled, and they went to rest.

The morrow was much fair, and the pilgrims rose up at daybreak and made noise.  Messire Thibault arose, and found him somewhat heavy, wherefore he called his chamberlain, and said: “Arise now, and do our meyney to truss and go their ways, and thou shalt abide with me and truss our harness: for I am somewhat heavy and ill at ease.”  So that one commanded the sergeants the pleasure of their lord, and they went their ways.

But a little while was ere Messire Thibault and his wife arose and arrayed them, and got to the road.  The chamberlain trussed their bed, and it was not full day, but much fair weather.  They issued out of the town, they three, without more company but only God, and drew nigh to the forest; and whenas they came thither, they found two ways, one good, and the other bad.  Then Messire Thibault said to his chamberlain: “Prick spur now, and come up with our folk, and bid them abide us, for ugly thing it is for a dame and a knight to wend the wild-wood with little company.”

So the chamberlain went his ways speedily; and Messire Thibault came into the forest, and came on the sundering ways, and knew not by which to wend.  So he said: “Dame, by which way go we?”  “Sir,” said she, “by the good way, so please God.”

But in this forest were certain strong-thieves, who wasted the good way, and made the false way wide and side, and like unto the other, for to make pilgrims go astray.  So Messire Thibault lighted down, and looked on the way, and found the false way bigger and wider than the good; so he said: “Come dame, a-God’s name, this is it.”  So they entered therein, and went a good quarter of a league, and then began the way to wax strait, and the boughs to hang alow; so he said: “Dame, meseemeth that we go not well.”

When he had so said, he looked before him, and saw four strong-thieves armed, upon four big horses, and each one held spear in hand.  And when he beheld them, he looked behind him, and saw other four in other fashion armed and arrayed; and he said: “Dame, be not abashed at anything thou mayst see now from henceforward.”  Then Messire Thibault greeted those first come, but they held them all aloof from his greeting.  So thereafter he asked them what was their will toward him; and one thereof said: “That same shall we tell thee anon.”

Therewith the strong thief came against Messire Thibault with glaive in rest, and thought to smite him amidst of the body; and Messire Thibault saw the stroke a-coming, and if he doubted thereof, no marvel was it; but he swerved from the stroke as best he might, and that one missed him; and as he passed by him Messire Thibault threw himself under the glaive, and took it from the strong thief, and bestirred him against those three whence that one was come, and smote