Old French Romances, Done into English, William Morris [easy books to read in english TXT] 📗

the Soudan, and said: “Sir, give me this captive, if it please thee, for he knoweth the chess and the tables, and fair tales withal, which shall please thee much; and he shall play before thee and learn thee.”  “Dame,” said the Soudan, “by my law, wot that with a good will I will give him thee; do with him as thou wilt.”

Then the Lady took him and sent him into her chamber, and the jailers went to seek another, and led out Messire Thibault, who was the husband of the Lady; and in sorry raiment was he, for he was dight with long hair, and had a great beard; he was lean and fleshless, as one who had suffered pain and dolour enough.  When the Lady saw him, she said unto the Soudan: “Sir, again with this one would I willingly speak, if it please thee.”  “Dame,” said the Soudan, “it pleaseth me well.”  So the Lady came to Messire Thibault, and asked him of whence he was, and he said: “I am of the land of the old warrior whom they led before thee e’en now: and I had his daughter to wife; and I am a knight.”

The Lady knew well her lord, so she went back unto the Soudan, and said to him: “Sir, great goodness wilt thou do unto me if thou wilt give me this one also.”  “Dame,” said he, “with a good will I will give him to thee.”  So she thanked him, and sent him into her chamber with the other.

But the archers hastened and came to the Soudan, and said: “Sir, thou doest us wrong, and the day is a-waning.”  And therewith they went to the gaol and brought out the son of the Count, who was all covered with his hair and dishevelled, as one who had not been washen a while.  Young man he was, so that he had not yet a beard; but so lean he was, and so sick and feeble, that scarce might he hold him up.  And when the Lady saw him, she had of him much great pity.  She came to him and asked of him whose son, and whence he was, and he said he was the son of the first worthy.  Then she wotted well that he was her brother, but no semblance she made thereof.

“Sir, certes,” said she to the Soudan, “thou wilt now do me great goodness if thou wilt give me this one also; for he knows the chess and the tables, and all other games, which much shall please thee to see and to hear.”  But the Soudan said: “Dame, by my law, were there an hundred of them I would give them unto thee willingly.”

The Lady thanked him much, and took her brother, and sent him straightway into her chamber.  But the folk betook them anew to the gaol, and brought forth another; and the Lady departed thence, whereas she knew him not.  So was he led to his martyrdom, and our Lord Jesus Christ received his soul.  But the Lady went her ways forthwith; for it pleased her not, the martyrdoms which the Saracens did on the Christians.

She came to her chamber wherein were the prisoners, and when they saw her coming, they made as they would rise up, but she made sign to them to hold them still.  Then she went close up to them, and made them sign of friendship.  And the Count, who was right sage, asked thereon: “Dame, when shall they slay us?”  And she answered that it would not be yet.  “Dame,” said they, “thereof are we heavy; for we have so great hunger, that it lacketh but a little of our hearts departing from us.”

Thereat she went forth and let array meat; and then she brought it, and gave to each one a little, and a little of drink.  And when they had taken it, then had they yet greater hunger than afore.  Thuswise she gave them to eat, ten times the day, by little and little; for she doubted that if they ate all freely, that they would take so much as would grieve them.  Wherefore she did them to eat thus attemperly.

Thuswise did the good dame give them might again; and they were before her all the first seven days, and the night-tide she did them to lie at their ease; and she did them do off their evil raiment and let give them good and new.  After the eighth day, she had strengthened them little by little and more and more; and then she let bring them victuals and drink to their contentment, and in such wise that they were so strong that she abandoned to them the victual and the drink withal.  They had chequers and tables, and played thereon, and were in all content.  The Soudan was ofttimes with them, and good will he had to see them play, and much it pleased him.  But the dame refrained her sagely toward them, so that never was one of them that knew her, neither by word nor deed of hers.

But a little while wore after this matter, as telleth the tale, ere the Soudan had to do, for a rich soudan, who marched on him, laid waste his land, and fell to harrying him.  And he, to avenge his trouble, summoned folk from every part, and assembled a great host.  When the Lady knew thereof she came into the chamber whereas were the prisoners, and she sat down before them, and spoke to them, and said: “Lords, ye have told me of your matters a deal; now would I wot whether that which ye have told me be true or not: for ye told me that thou wert Count of Ponthieu on the day that thou departedst therefrom, and that that man had had thy daughter to wife, and that the other one was thy son.  Now, I am Saracen, and know the art of astronomy: wherefore I tell you well, that never were ye so nigh to a shameful death as now ye be, if ye tell me not the truth.  Thy daughter, whom this knight had, what became of her?”

“Lady,” said the Count, “I trow that she be dead.”  “What wise died she?” quoth she.  “Certes, Lady,” said the Count, “by an occasion which she had deserved.”  “And what was the occasion?” said the Lady.

Then the Count fell to tell, sore weeping, how she was wedded, and of the tarrying, whereby she might not have a child; and how the good knight promised his ways to St. Jakeme in Galicia, and how the Lady besought him that she might go along with him, and he granted it willingly.  And how they bestirred them with great joy, and went their ways, and so far that they came unto a place where they were without company.  Then met they in a forest robbers well armed, who fell upon them.  The good knight might do nothing against all them, for he was lacking of arms; but amidst all that he slew three, and five were left, who fell upon him and slew his palfrey, and took the knight and stripped him to the shirt, and bound him hand and foot, and cast him into a briar-bush: and the Lady they stripped, and took from her her palfrey.  They beheld the Lady, and saw that she was full fair, and each one would have her.  At the last, they accorded betwixt them hereto, that they should lie with her, and they had their will of her in her despite; and when they had so done they went their ways, and she abode, much grieving and much sad.  The good knight beheld it, and said much sweetly: “Dame, now unbind me my hands, and let us be going.”  Now she saw a sword, which was of one of the slain strong-thieves; she took it, and went towards her lord, who lay as aforesaid; she came in great ire by seeming, and said: “Yea, unbind thee I will.”  Then she held the sword all bare, and hove it up, and thought to smite him amidst the body, but by the good mercy of Jesus Christ, and by the valiancy of the knight, he turned upso down, and she smote the bonds he was bound withal, and sundered them, and he leapt up, for as bound and hurt as he was, and said: “Dame, if God will, thou shalt slay me not to-day.”

At this word spake the Lady, the wife of the Soudan: “Ha, sir! thou sayest the sooth; and well I know wherefore she would to do it.”  “Dame,” said the Count, “and wherefore?”  “Certes,” quoth she, “for the great shame which had befallen her.”

When Messire Thibault heard that, he fell a-weeping much tenderly, and said: “Ha, alas! what fault had she therein then, Lady?  So may God give me deliverance from this prison wherein I am, never should I have made worse semblance to her therefor, whereas it was maugre her will.”

“Sir,” said the Lady, “that she deemed nought.  Now tell me,” she said, “which deem ye the rather, that she be quick or dead?”  “Dame,” said he, “we wot not.”  “Well wot I,” said the Count, “of the great pain we have suffered, which God hath sent us for the sin which I did against her.”  “But if it pleased God,” said the Lady, “that she were alive, and that ye might have of her true tidings, what would ye say thereto?”  “Lady,” said the Count, “then were I gladder than I should be to be delivered out of this prison, or to have so much riches as never had I in my life.”  “Dame,” said Messire Thibault, “may God give me no joy of that which I most desire, but I were not the gladder than to be king of France.”  “Dame,” said the varlet who was her brother, “certes none could give me or promise me thing whereof I should be so glad as of the life of my sister, who was so fair a dame, and so good.”

But when the Lady heard these words, then was the heart of her softened and she praised God, and gave him thanks therefor, and said to them: “Take heed, now, that there be no feigning in your words.”  And they answered and said that none there was.  Then fell the Lady a-weeping tenderly, and said to them: “Sir, now mayest thou well say that thou art my father, and I thy daughter, even her on whom thou didest such cruel justice.  And thou, Messire Thibault, thou art my lord and my baron.  And thou, sir varlet, art my brother.”

Therewith she told them how the merchants had found her, and how they gave her as a gift to the Soudan.  And when they heard that, they were much glad, and made much great joy, and humbled them before her; but she forbade them that they should make any semblance, and said: “I am Saracen, and renied, for otherwise I might never endure, but were presently dead.  Wherefore I pray you and bid you, for as dear as ye hold your lives and honours, and your havings the greater, that ye never once, whatso ye may hear or see, make any more fair semblance unto me, but hold you simply.  So leave me to deal therewith.  Now shall I tell you wherefore I have uncovered me to you.  The Soudan, who is now my lord, goeth presently a-riding; and I know thee well” (said she to Messire Thibault), “that thou art a valiant man and a good knight: therefore I will pray the Soudan to take thee with him; and then if ever thou wert valiant, now do thou show it, and serve the Soudan so well that he may have no evil to tell of thee.”

Therewith departed the Lady, and came unto the Soudan, and said: “Sir, one of my prisoners will go with thee, if it please thee.”  “Dame,” said he, “I would not dare trust me to him, lest he do me some treason.”  “Sir,” she said, “in surety mayest thou lead him along; for I will hold the others.”  “Dame,” said he, “I will lead him with me, since thou counsellest me so, and I will give him a horse much good, and arms, and all that is meet for him.”

So then the Lady went back, and said to Messire Thibault: “I have done so much with the Soudan, that thou shalt go with him.  Now bethink thee to do well.”  But her brother kneeled before her, and prayed her that she would do so much with the Soudan that he also should go.  But said she: “I will not do it, the matter be over open thereby.”

The Soudan arrayed his matters and went his ways, and Messire Thibault with him, and they went against the enemy.  The Soudan delivered to Messire Thibault arms and horse.  By the will of Jesus Christ, who never forgetteth them who have in him trust and good faith, Messire Thibault did so