Sem | Ae % i a eae Kye Sree ce ig o7 SN EA RSS a Sa ee aS ET So‘ E f k i k AI rapTHE KNIGHT AND UNA IN THE FOREST. Page 20. SRA \ \ \ Wee SEMAHee SOR of _ THE RED Cross Kwigut. UNA AND THE LION. Page gO Thomas Welson and Sons, LONDON, EDIN BUWGH, AND NENA VORTKOOOH MOQ SAN NO i OoooOxOH8Huq NDIie SPOR \ OW Vine Ree). CkOSsS KNIGHT THROM “SPENSERIS FAIRY OUBBIV: ‘“ How many perils do enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall, Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold, And steadfast Truth acquit him out of all.” SPENSER, Terondon: Tt NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER EDINBURGH 5 AND NEW YORK.SSPo Eee eee. Tue intention of the writer in the following pages is to try to bring before children, clothed in simple language, the old story so beautifully narrated by Spenser. While full of stirring incidents, and containmg many noble lessons, the “ Fairy Queen” is, perhaps, hardly known as widely as it deserves. Feeling this, and being much interested in it herself, the writer -has tried to do something towards making others acquainted with it. In the earnest hope that it may help to inspire some with a love for the true and beautiful, and induce them to search for themselves the works of our great authors, this little book is offered to the writer’s child friends, known and unknown. Reek NeG\ ontents. I. LISTENERS AND A STORY, sat wae + ne 15 II. UNA IN DISTRESS, =. Se ee a and 39 Il]. THE HOUSE OF PRIDE, sce ee a ae - o4 IV. THE PICNIC, Se fae oe. oss ioe Sor 78 V. THE RESCUE, eee ae ee et = cc 87 VI. THE HOUSE OF HOLINESS, aoe a ice Bae 101 VII. THE COMBAT, aie mee Soc see oe = 119 VIII. THE REWARD OF VICTORY. aoe res Boe Sue 130 WHAT IS THE STORY 2————— Se as Wrist of BWllustrations. Ht) THE KNIGHT AND UNA IN THE FOREST, Frontispiece Vignette ij UNA AND THE LION, | IN THE DEN OF ERROR, 23 THE KNIGHT'S SURPRISE, THE COMBAT: UNA’S TERROR, THE HOUSE OF PRIDE, a oe oe = aS 55 HI THE GOODLY KNIGHT'S VOW, r | FOUND! i | IN THE HOUSE OF CHARISSA, ... oe = = a 109 : IN VIEW OF “‘ THE CITY OF THE GREAT KING,” ee e 115 | THE COMBAT WITH THE DRAGON, a - a led SSN Sn SWVentroductory We) ote. Tue grandest work of Spenser is his Yaere Queene. In a letter to Sir Walter Raleigh, prefixed to the first three books of “The Faerie Queene,” which were published in 1590, the poet himself tells us his object and his plan. His object was, following the example of Homer, Virgil, Ariosto, and Tasso, to write a book, coloured with an historical fiction, which should ‘fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle discipline.” The original plan provided for twelve books, “ fashion- ing XII. morall vertues.” Of these twelve books we have only six. The old story of the six remaining books being finished in Ireland, and lost by a careless servant, or dur- ing the poet’s voyage to England, is very improbable. Spenser had only time between 1596 and his death to write two cantos and a fragment of a third. Hallam justly says, ‘‘The short interval before the death of this great poet wasXl . INTRODUCTORY NOTE. filled up by calamities sufficient to wither the fertility of any mind.” Prince Arthur, who is chosen as the hero of the poem, falls in love with the Faerie Queene, and, armed by Merlin, sets out to seek her in Faery Land. She is supposed to hold her annual feast for twelve days, during which twelve adventures are achieved by twelve knights, who represent, allegorically, certain virtues. The Red-Crosse Knight, or Holiness, achieves the adven- ture of the first and finest book. In spite of the plots of the wizard Archimago (Hypocrisy) and the wiles of the witch Duessa (Falsehood), he slays the dragon that ravaged the kingdom of Una’s father, and thus wins the hand of that fair princess (Truth). Sir Guyon, or Temperance, is the hero of the second adventure; Britomartis, or Chastity—a Lady-Knight—of the third; Cambel and Triamond, typity- ing Friendship, of the fourth; Artegall, or Justice, of the fifth ; Sir Calidore, or Courtesy, of the sixth. The six books form a descending scale of merit. The first two have the fresh bloom of genius upon them; the third contains some exquisite pictures of womanhood, coloured with the light of poetic fancy; but in the last three the divine fire is seen only in fitful and uncertain flashes, It was not that the poet had written himself out, but he had been tempted to aim at achieving too much. Not contentINTRODUCTORY NOTE. Xl with giving us the most exquisite pictures of chivalrous life that have ever been limned in English words, and at the same time enforcing with some success lessons of true morality and virtue, he attempted to interweave with his bright allegories the history of his own day. Thus Gloriana thé Faerie Queene, and Belphebe the huntress, represent Elizabeth ; Artegall is Lord Grey; Envy is intended for poor Mary Stuart.--From Collier’s History of English Literature.Ct diye ane er eeUED edema:THE CIR OUP pl CHAPTER fF LISTHNERS AND A STORY. one of those Ir had been a hot but lovely day in May days when everything seems happy. The sun had looked down on the fresh green trees, and had made them glorious with his beauty ; the flowers had looked up into his face from the fields, or peeped at him from among the grasses and bushes in the woods, in quiet contentment. The bees and insects buzzed and hummed as if never tired of expressing their delight. As to the birds, they had sung in the morning as if their little throats would crack; and though through the middle of the day they had been more quiet and sleepy, as the afternoon drew on they began again. A party of children had been out since early morningFair A peciecny sane oven TecLA SLOMAN z ao aS ay Focanenieaaaen eens iw S Sion nampa nearer iat ea 16 LISTENERS AND A STORY. for a long ramble. They had walked a long way, through beautiful woods, across little rippling streams, picking the flowers as they went, and very much enjoy- ing themselves. Now they were coming back, and, having had tea, sat still a while to look about and rest.- And it was a lovely view that met their eyes. They were sitting on a grassy slope, with woods behind them, formed of various kinds of trees, especially beeches and firs: the former, a beautiful bright green tinged with red where the leaves were not fully opened; the latter, dark.and sombre, contrasting well with the fresh tints. It had been a balmy spring, and the ground at their feet was blue with wild hyacinths; other flowers adding their bright colours, and making a variegated carpet. Below them, the ground sloped to a river, which wandered in the valley, flowing through fields of cool grass, which the cows seemed to enjoy to their hearts’ content, as they nibbled it slowly or lay stretched at their ease. Beyond, the children could see the corn beginning to grow, and pretty little farm-houses and cottages dotted here and there ; and further still, woods and hills seemed to melt away into the golden glow of the afternoon sun, which was nearing the west. One by one the children became silent: even the (807) as SSLISTENERS AND A STORY. merriest felt as if he could not talk, the air was so still and the magic spell of nature’s beauty so strong. Suddenly a thrush piped up his evening song behind them ; another answered him, and a blackbird joined in the chorus. At last one of the girls remarked, “ Would not this do for Fairyland? I am sure the queen of the fairies must often come here with her train. I expect we should see some hiding in those pretty bells if we looked carefully enough.—Aunt!” said she, suddenly turning to a sweet-faced lady who had been sitting silent like the rest, gazing far off into the clear sky with a look on her face the children could not understand, but which made them think she was one of the most beautiful persons they had ever known, “can you tell us a fairy story? It would suit exactly with this place.” “Oh no!” said Sydney; “what a girl’s taste! Now if you asked for something sensible, like knights fight- ing, and taking care of ladies, and seeking adventures, it would be something like a tale.” “Besides, I like true stories,” exclaimed Ruth. “Fairy tales are nice, but you don’t know that they really happened.” “Perhaps,” said Aunt Alice, “I can satisfy you all, if you try to find out what I want as I go along.—Daisy, you want a fairy tale; well, I will tell you one-—And " _(g07) 218 LISTENERS AND A STORY. it shall be about knights and ladies, Sydney.—And what is better, Ruth, it has truth hidden in it.” «Then please let us hear it, aunt,’ and they settled themselves about her, while she began :— A long time ago the beautiful Queen of Fairyland, whose name was Gloriana, kept a feast for twelve days, and on each day some strange adventure happened, which was entered upon by one of twelve knights. The first was this:—When the feast had only just begun, a tall, awkward-looking young man entered, and asked the queen, who could not refuse anything during the feast, that if any one had need of an errant knight, he might be chosen. The queen promised to grant his request ; and then he lay down on the floor, feeling un-. fit for any other place, he looked so different from the rest of the lords and knights. Not long afterwards a fair and beautiful lady came in, dignified and regal in bearing, so that none dared lightly approach her. She was dressed in mourning, and rode on a white ass, while a dwarf by her side led a fine war-horse, which carried the armour of a knight, the dwarf himself holding the spear. When the lady reached the queen she fell down before her, saying that her father and mother, a king and queen of ancient family, had for a long time been kept in a brazen castle by a huge, terrible dragon, which harassed all the land. OASLISTENERS AND A STORY. 19 She had travelled all this way—knowing the kind- ness of Gloriana—to ask her to send some good knight to deliver them. Directly the young man saw and heard fair Una (for that was the lady’s name), he started up and asked leave to go on this errand. The Fairy Queen wondered that such a rude-looking person should wish to undertake it, and Una tried to persuade him not, saying that unless he was clothed in the armour she brought he could not sueceed ; but he only prayed more earnestly, till at last his request was granted. And having put on the armour, he looked the most handsome of all the knights there, and the lady herself liked him. So being made a Knight of the Red Cross, he went forth, mounted on his splendid charger, which, however, he had to hold in well, and followed the lady and the dwarf. As the knight rode along, you boys would have admired him, for his armour gleamed and flashed in the sunlight. He carried a silver shield which would quench many a dart of wicked foes, and preserve him from harm, and on which was blazoned a red cross, another being on his breast. His helmet shone in the burning rays, and had a beautiful crest pointing up- ward, as if to say, “ Never despair.” Then his sword was of the best metal, and, if properly20 LISTENERS AND A STORY. used, was never known to fail. Victory depended on the hand that wielded it. If that was true and firm, nothing could resist the strokes of that wondrous sword. The knight looked so strong and powerful that any foe would feel afraid to meet him. His one desire was to win the praise and favour of the great Gloriana, whom he respected so much. Meanwhile the beautiful lady beside him seemed full of some secret sorrow, and rode silent and closely veiled, leading a pretty snow-white lamb by her side. Thus for some time they journeyed on together, till they were overtaken by a sudden heavy shower of rain, from which they sought shelter in a dense forest. The lofty trees had wide-spreading branches, and were covered so thickly with leaves that no sky could be seen through them. Under these trees were many well- : worn paths leading into the centre of the forest. This | | seemed a promising place, so they went further in. | | As they passed on they were delighted with the sweet songs of the little birds, and praised the beauty of the various trees,—the pine; the tall, proud cedar ; the elm and poplar; the oak, so good for building, king of all forests; the aspen, good for staves; the dark funereal cypress; the laurel, crown of victors and poets ; the willow, type of grief; the supple, pliant yew, so good for bows ; the birch, for arrows; and the warlikeLISTENERS AND A STORY. beech ; the ash, useful for anything ; the fruitful olive ; and the plane and maple. Here the knight and lady, well pleased to be safe from the storm, wandered on for some time, till, wishing to leave the wood again, they could find no path out of it. They tried many, but in vain, and at last determined to take one which seemed a beaten track. This led them to a cave, hidden in a dark part of the forest, which was called the “ Den of Error.” Here the knight dismounted, and gave his spear to the dwarf, though warned not to disarm by Una, who said it was a dangerous place, and he knew not what hidden perils lurked there. Her words only fired his courage, and saying that it would be shameful to retreat because of hidden perils, and that Virtue could give herself light in darkness, he advanced to the entrance of the cave, and looking in, he saw an ugly monster, something like a serpent, lying on the ground. His armour, so bright and glistening, lighted up the dark- some place, and terrified the creature, which glided towards him with threatening appearance. As soon, however, as it saw one clad in mail, it sought to turn back, for it hated light like poison; and the valiant knight, perceiving this, forced it to stay facing the brightness which could pierce through the dense canopy, and gave it a good stroke with his sword. On this the monster, lifting its tail, tried to strangle22 LISTENERS AND A STORY. him by coiling it round him. Now indeed he was in danger, for he could not move; and Una cried out, “Now, Sir Knight, show what thou really art. Do not give way in despair; add faith unto thy force, and be not faint; strangle Error, or she will surely strangle thee.” On hearing this, he managed with great effort to get one hand free, and grasping the monster with all his strength, forced it to uncoil itself. Then fearing the shame of being beaten, he gathered up his strength in one last attempt, and cut off its head, though faint and weak with the struggle. How thankful he felt that he had conquered, for Una was looking on, and now came up to encourage him, saying he had indeed done bravely in his first trial. Then having mounted again, the companions set forth, and this time, profiting by experience, they kept in a broad beaten path which led straight on, and did not turn aside to any by-ways, till at last it brought them out of the wood. After travelling some distance, they met an old man who looked like a hermit, of whom the knight inquired whether he knew of any adventures in those parts, or if there were any knights to fight with. “Ah!” said this old man, “how should one who lives in a retired cell, spending his days in devotion, hear tidings of warfare? I only know of one man, who SOLESDEN OF ERROR, Page 2.LISTENERS AND A STORY. lives a long distance from here, all alone in a wilderness, and who daily sallies forth to work harm wherever he can.” : The knight was beginning to ask the way to this place, when Una interrupted him, saying, “I am sure it is too late for thee to seek any more contests to-night, thou art too weary; rest a while, and thou wilt be fresher in the morning.” “Would you like,” asked the hermit, “to come home with me? I live close by.” So saying, he led the way to a lowly hermitage in a dale on the outskirts of a forest. Hard by a little chapel had been built, where the old man used to pray, and in front of which ran a clear stream, making sweet music as it babbled over its stony bed. Here they rested in content for the night, little dreaming that their host, who seemed such a kind man, was in reality a wicked enchanter, who hated them and wished to do them harm. When his guests were fairly asleep, the old magician went to his study, and, by aid of his numerous books and arts, sought charms to trouble the minds of the sleepers. Then calling to him many little sprites, which fluttered about his head like flies, he chose out two of the worst: one he kept by himself to be ready for whatever he might wish him to do, and to the other he gave a message. This one hied away swiftly through air and throughands a a 26 LISTENERS AND A STORY. water, right down below the surface of the earth, to the house of Morpheus. Here no ray of sun or even dawning day can pierce, the moon hides her drooping head in silver dew, while sad night spreads over the place her black mantle. Arrived here, the messenger found double gates fast locked—one framed of polished ivory, the other over- laid with silver. Wakeful dogs were lying in front, watching to banish their enemy, Care, who often troubles quiet sleep. Passing by them quietly, the sprite reached Mor- pheus, who was nodding away in a drowsy fit, taking heed of nothing. And the whole place seemed fit for sleep: he was constantly lulled by the sound of a trick- ling stream tumbling from a high rock ; the musical soft dropping of rain on the roof, mingled witb a gentle, murmuring wind, made a noise like bees swarming. No other sounds nor cries of people, such as distract the dwellers in towns, were heard there, but Quiet, free from care or foes, lay wrapped in eternal silence. The messenger approaching, spoke to Morpheus, but quite in vain, so soundly was he sleeping. Then he tried pushing and pulling him about, on which the sleeper began to stretch; but being shaken again, at last he spoke in a drowsy, mumbling way, like one in a dream. Then following up his advantage, the little spriteLISTENERS AND A STORY. oT woke him more fully, and lifting his heavy head, he asked half angrily what was wanted. “ Archimago has sent me,” answered his tormentor, “and bids you deliver me a bad, false dream, that may deceive the sleeper.” Morpheus obeyed, and calling to him a dream, gave it to the messenger, and forthwith laid down his head again, and was off to sleep in a moment. When the dream was brought to Archimago, he sent it by the hand of the bearer, and with him the other sprite to help, and all night long these two wicked little things tormented the poor knight. At last he started up, and thought he saw his Una before him; for the enchanter had dressed one of these creatures just like her. She seemed weeping bitterly ; but our knight could not understand what was the matter, and said, “ Why, what has frightened thee, that hast always comforted me when afraid ?” “T cannot sleep,” she seemed to say, “ but waste the night in sorrow, while thou art sleeping in careless- ness; but go on and rest.” So saying, she appeared to glide away, and her knight lay long wondering, till at last, from sheer weariness, he fell asleep again, only to be vexed afresh. In the morning old Archimago came to the Red Cross Knight, and told him that the fair Una (who was as good as she was beautiful) was false and wicked; and28 UGS TE NEEEUS: AND A SLORY. the knight, who was foolish enough to believe hin, leaped on his horse and galloped off, without stopping to inquire further. And as he rode along, thinking very sorrowfully of his dear Una, there met him a fierce-looking knight, whose name was Sansfoy, or Infidelity, riding with a handsome lady dressed in scarlet and pearls, and reminding one of the “lady who rode a white horse,’—for the bridle of her horse was covered with bells and ornaments. Directly she saw the Red Cross Knight she said to her companion, “Here comes an enemy; make haste and fight him, and be sure and conquer.” “J should think so, indeed!” replied Sansfoy. “ Dost thou suppose he will make me yield? What dost thou imagine my strength to be?” No sooner had he said this than he rushed at our good knight, and they met with such violence that the shock sent them far apart again, and they stood staring at each other with angry looks for some time. Then the Saracen took his sword, and they fought fiercely for a long while, cutting and wounding each other sadly. But Sansfoy could not prevail over the Red Cross Knight on account of the cross he wore on his shield and breast, and though he gave such a blow that he made a great gash in his foe’s helmet, he was at length cut down and killed by the strong sword of the Christian knight.LISTENERS AND A STORY. On seeing this the companion of Sansfoy fled in terror; and the knight, telling the dwarf to take the shield of his fallen foe as a sign of his victory, followed her, telling her not to fear, for he would not harm her. She turned back on hearing him, and with sad and downeast looks began,— “Tam a kine’s daughter, and am called Fidessa. I was betrothed to a brave knight who was slain; and as I wandered about seeking his body, which had been carried away, I fell in with this pagan knight, the eldest of three bad brothers, and am very glad to be rid of him.’ Now, as we shall see, this was all untrue; but she seemed so sad and lonely that the Red Cross Knight was moved with pity for her, and asked if she would go with him and ride under his protection. To this she joyfully consented, and they journeyed together, apparently well pleased with each other's society. Had the knight so soon forgotten his poor Una? We shall see. At length the day became very hot, and looking about for some shade, they spied two large and spread- ing trees, under which they stopped and dismounted to rest a while; and the knight, looking at Fidessa, thought she was very beautiful, and plucked a bough to make a garland for her.30 LISTENERS AND A STORY. Imagine his surprise on hearing a mournful voice exclaim, “Oh! what hast thou done? Have pity, and tear not my aching flesh. Whoever thou art, flee from this place, lest a fate should overtake thee similar to that which happened to me and my dear lady by my side.” “The knight stood spell-bound, as I daresay most of us would do at hearing a tree speak At last he began,— “Who art thou that askest me to spare guiltless blood? Art thou a spirit wandering about ?” “No, oh no,” replied the voice; “I am no spirit— a man once called Fradubio. Now I am this tree, and was thus transformed by a cruel, wicked witch, by name Duessa, or Falsehood, who has brought many a good knight to ruin.” “Teli me about it,” said the Knight of the Red Cross. “Tt happened thus,” continued Fradubio: “I was riding one day with the gentle lady who is now this seeming tree by my side, and we met a knight accom- panied by an apparently beautiful lady, who was in reality the wicked Duessa. The knight began to praise his love, and I, of course, upheld mine as being the more beautiful. So from words we came to blows, and at length he fell, leaving his lady my prisoner. “Now, when Duessa found I still loved Freelissa, and that she could not make me care for her entirely,See 5 Coad: fury Ue ee ep y \ vty > “Yes : Ge \ Ve be Le. SP g “sz a gs KNIGHT’S SURPRISE. Page 30.| 1S i i i Rie Mee Hi Le i i ‘ | fLISTENERS AND A STORY. 33 in spite of her seeming beauty, she raised a horrid mist, which made Freelissa look old and ugly and deformed, and made me believe she was really so. Then she transformed her into this tree which you see. ““ Ah, how foolish I was to be thus deceived! I took Duessa for my love, and thought she was fair, till one day I chanced to see her when she thought she was alone, and had taken off some of her ornaments, and who can tell my horror on perceiving that she was old and hideous, and had only been dressed up to appear beautiful. ‘Is it possible, I mused, ‘ that I left my good and true Freelissa for such a wretch as this?’ Oh, how I wished I had never listened to this enchantress! But it was too late now. And when Duessa saw that I turned from her and despised her, she took vengeance on me by turning me also into a tree. At least I have the consolation of being near my Freelissa.” “But is there nothing that can restore you?” asked the Red Cross Knight. “Only our being bathed in a well of pure water.” “How I wish I could find that well!” “We must wait the appointed time,” said Fradubio, “Again, I repeat, take warning, and be not deceived as I was.” On hearing this sad story the Red Cross Knight turned to his companion, and found she had fainted, as he thought, though she was only pretending, for she (807) 334 LISTENERS AND A STORY. was this same vile creature; and he, in his goodness and simplicity, tried to restore her, which having done at length, they set forth again. “Well, Sydney, how do you like my knight ?” “Q Aunt Alice, I think he is a real jolly fellow to beat that old dragon as he did. What did you say its name was ?” “Krror, dear boy,—which can only ‘be vanquished by such arms as this knight used.—George, what do you say to my fairy tale?” .“T like it very much; only I do think it was mean of the knight to leave Una. I wouldn’t have done so.” “T hope you would not, George, and you will see how he suffered for it. But now we must not stay longer, for the sun is setting, and we shall be benighted, as our knight and lady were, if we do not make haste home.” “Oh, but I do want to hear more,” said a chorus of voices ; “it is not all the story, is it 2 You have told us nothing about poor Una and what she did when she found herself alone.” “I have thought of a plan,” said Aunt Alice: “if you care to hear more you can come to me every afternoon; I will tell you the rest.” “Yes; that will be nice,” cried the children. “Only, you must all remember, it is not only a fairy story; there are beautiful meanings hidden in it which you can find out if you will.” SSS SESELISTENERS AND A STORY. 30 “TI should like to discover one now,” said thoughtful Ruth. “ What does the name Una mean? It is such a funny one.” “ts it, Ruth? YF think it is a very pretty one. It means ‘truth, because truth is always single and straightforward. And then it is so beautiful in every one, whether old or young. But now, before we 20, just look at that picture.” She pointed as she spoke to the sunset opposite, which was lighting up the whole landscape. As they gazed, it changed from gold_to green, red, and purple, the colours all mingling and melting one into another, and lighting up the woods and fields with their glory, till at last all sank down into a calm deep blue and purple. “How beautiful!” exclaimed the children, drawing a breath of satisfaction. “Yes,” said their aunt; “does it not remind you of a well-spent day, when, after having done all your work rightly, you feel the quiet content of ‘something at- tempted, something done’? And it seems, too, like a picture of a Christian’s life, ending in glory and peace. But now, scamper home before the fairies do come out and catch us.” Not long after, they reached the door of Aunt Alice’s little house among the trees, and said good-night, with many thanks and desires for the morrow to come.36 LISTENERS AND A STORY. “Mother,” cried two or three voices, as, after a little further walk, the children entered their home—“ mother, mother, where are you 2?” “JT am coming in a minute,” answered a cheery voice from the interior; and almost before the children had time to go in the direction from whence it came, Mrs. Ingoldsby met them. “So here you are again. Have you had a nice day ?” “Jolly,” replied Sydney. “We went to ask if Aunt Alice would go with us; but she had some letters to write first, so we waited in the garden till she was ready.” “ And what did you do in the meantime ?” “The boys chased all the fowls in the yard, I do believe, mother,” said Ruth; “and Daisy ran after to stop them, and caught her frock on a rose-bush, and tore a great slit in it. Of course she could not go like that, so I helped her to mend it.” “T expect you will say it is not neat, mother, for I cobbled it for fear it would not be done in time.” “Q Daisy, what a child you are! I shall have to fine you every time you tear your things, and then perhaps you will be more careful. JI wonder what Aunt Alice said to having her chickens run, boys!” “We did not go on long, mother; but you know that old black cock Sambo, he is so tall and crooked, we could not resist making him hop, and of course SMALISTENERS AND A STORY. 37 when he ran all the others went too. After that we went into the arbour and played at marbles.” “And what did you do all day? Did you havea nice time with your little friends 2” “Yes, very. We only meant to go for a walk; but when we reached the Grange, Maud and Edith were out, so Mrs. Bryant asked us to stay to dinner. First we went to the old castle; and after dinner, Aunt Alice stayed at home, and we fished in the river.” “What do you think?” said George. “Do you re- member there are some large stones in the river by the bridge? We did not notice that Maud and Daisy had gone, as we were pulling out a big fish, when we heard a splash, and Sydney looked round saying, ‘That’s Maud.’ He was off like a shot, and found Maud up to her waist in water; so he had very carefully to go on a large stone in the middle and pull her out. She and Daisy had been trying who could get across first. Daisy was safe, but Maud’s foot slipped, and in she went. She was not hurt, though, and we took her home to be dried, and stayed to tea.” “Tt must have been exciting; but do not let me hear of such pranks again, Daisy. J do not want any drowned rats brought home to me.” “We have not told mother one of the best parts,” said Daisy. “We were watching the sunset in Long Acre Field, when Aunt Alice began to tell us a lovely30 LISTENERS AND A STORY. story about a lady, and knight, and dragons, and ever so many things, and she will go on with it if we may go to her every afternoon.” “QO children, Aunt Alice spoils you. I shall have to send her away, and tell her to get some one else to take care of.” “Then we should have to write to her very often, and that would take more time than going to see her: —wouldn’t it, Ruth?” returned Daisy. Just then Mr. Ingoldsby entered, and the story of their day’s adventures had to be repeated, by which time most, if not all, were quite ready for bed, though protesting that they were not in the least tired. SASCHAPTER I. UNA IN DISTRESS. “Now, aunt, I think we are all ready,” said Daisy, as the merry faces looked up in expectation the next day. “What are you going to tell us to-day ?” “TI think this will be a chapter for the girls,” answered her aunt; “but perhaps the boys will like it as well.” We must go back to poor forsaken Una. She, poor maid, wandered everywhere, vainly seeking her cham- pion, fearing nothing, for she had no thought of ill. One day, alighting from her gentle ass, she lay down in the shadow of a wood to rest. Taking off the band from her hair, and laying aside her black mantle, her golden tresses showered down around her, and ‘‘ Her angel’s face, As the great eye of heaven, shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place,”— when, lo! a lion rushed out of the thickest wood, and seeing her, ran up eagerly, thinking to devour her at once. But as he came near, what was her surprise to40 UNA IN DISTRESS. see that he grew gentle; and when he was close to her, instead of tearing her to pieces, he began to lick her hands and her feet, and fawned upon her, trying in every way he could to comfort her, and to show her that he would help her if he could. “Oh, thought she, weeping, “this lion, so full of pride and hunger, yields to me in this submissive way ; how is it that my lion and dear lord has left me and hates me, who have ever loved him so truly ?” As she thought of this, her tears flowed faster, and the lion stood looking on in pity for her woes. At last the royal virgin arose, and mounting her white ass, again went forth to seek her knight. The lion would not leave her desolate, but guarded her by day and night as carefully as if he had been her servant, and used to watch her face to see what she wanted. So the lady and her strange but faithful attendant travelled on together, without meeting any one of whom to ask after her champion ; till one day she found a girl with a pitcher on her shoulder, walking slowly in front of her, of whom the weary maiden inquired whether there was any place near at hand where she might rest for the night. The rude country girl had never seen so beautiful a lady as this before; and perceiving the lion, she was terrified, and fled away without uttering a word. She rushed home to her blind old mother, and while she was telling her what a fright she hadUNA IN DISTRESS. 41 had, Dame Una came up to the door, which was fast closed, and begged to be taken in for the night. No one answered or opened; so the unruly page, leaping up, tore open the door with his claws to let his mistress in, who entering, saw the two women huddled in a corner, half dead with fear, to whom she spoke kind, loving words ; and having somewhat cheered them, lay down herself, the lion crouching at her feet. Lay down, I said, but not to sleep; for ever her thoughts turned night and day to him who had left her. But hark! what noise is that? Some one knocks at the door, and, when no one dares open it, bursts in. It is Kirk-Rapine, who daily robs churches and good men, and then brings home the spoil to Abessa and her old blind mother Corceca. When the lion saw this new foe entering, ** Encountering fierce, he sudden doth surprise, And seizing cruel claws on trembling breast, Under his lordly foot him proudly hath opprest.” It was of no use for Kirk-Rapine to struggle. The lion fiercely tore him into a thousand pieces, while his terrified friends dared not say or do anything to help him, for fear of being killed themselves. Now when day broke up rose Una, and sadly went forth again with her faithful friend, feeling weary and sick at heart. She had not gone far when she heard the two women with whom she had lodged calling after42 UNA IN DISTRESS. her every shameful name they could think of, and wishing her all kinds of evil, for having allowed her lion to kill Kirk-Rapine. But finding that Una an- swered nothing, but went on her way, they returned, and in the way met a knight, who asked if they knew where Una was. This was in reality the wicked Archi- mago, who had put on armour like the Red: Cross Knight's, to deceive poor Una. He soon overtook her, and on seeing the lion, dared not go too near, but waited on a little hill by the roadside, and showed his shield with the red cross on it. And Una, catching sight of it, joyfully went to him, saying,— “Oh, my dear lord, why hast thou been so long out of my sight? Ihave been in sadness ever since thou hast left me ; but now I am indeed joyful.” “Dear Una,” said the seeming knight, “ how couldst thou think I could leave thee alone without a good reason? Ihave been seeking adventures, and Archi- mago told me of a wicked knight who daily did some harm. I went to seek him, and after a fierce battle conquered ; and now he can no more vex and harass good people as he did. Now be comforted.” His words did indeed comfort Una, who, being true herself, had no idea she was being deceived; and they rode on together in joyous talk. They had only gone a little way, however, when they saw a proud knight coming to meet them—a fierce andUNA IN DISTRESS. 43 cruel man called Sansloy, or Lawlessness. His horse looked as fierce as himself, and was chafing and foam- ing with the spurring his master gave him. This stern and cruel man, on seeing one in the armour, as he thought, of his great enemy the Knight of the Red Cross, spurred to meet him, and ran at him with such force that he bore him to the ground. Then in fierce joy he cried,— “This is my revenge on thee for having slain my brother Sansfoy. Prepare to die, for die thou shalt this moment.” Saying which, he began to unlace the helmet of his fallen foe. Una besought him with tears to have mercy, but in vain, and he persisted in undoing the helmet; when, think of his surprise at seeing, not the Red Cross Knight, but old Archimago, who was one of his great friends. He stared at him, and said wonderingly,— “ Archimago! how is it I see thee thus? What has brought thee into this strait ?” But his victim answered not a word, lying in a trance, completely stunned by his fall; and Sansloy, seeing this, turned to Una, and rudely tried to pluck her veil aside, to look at her face. Her faithful lion could not stand this; so he sprang up, and ramping on his shield, thought to have torn it down. In vain, for Sansloy was stronger; and, full of rage, he pulled out his sword, and pierced the lion to the heart!44 UNA IN DISTRESS. Ah! now, what can poor Una do—her knight gone, her faithful servant killed, and no help near ? “How could I have mistaken this vile man,” she thought, “ for my dear knight ?” While she mused thus, in sorrow and fear, Sansloy came up, and in spite of her tears and entreaties put her on his horse to carry her away as his prisoner and shut her up in his castle. Her gentle ass, seeing her thus borne away, followed her afar off, unwilling to leave her. So the forlorn maiden was carried off in fear and dread of her cruel and proud captor, till, as they were passing through a thick wood, she could bear it no longer, and began to call loudly for help, though she saw none who could aid her. Her cries reached the furthest recesses of the forest, where many fauns and satyrs and nymphs were playing, who, hearing these unusual sounds, ran to find out what they were. When they came up, Sansloy in his turn was frightened ; for these queer creatures, with men’s heads and goats’ feet and shaggy hair, stood and stared at him; and being, as most cruel people are, a great coward, he galloped off as hard as he could, leaving Una to her fate. At first she was very frightened; but when these strange people saw this they tried to show by gentle looks and actions that they did not wish to harm her: wondering at her youth and beauty, they bowed low SST SECSUNA IN DISTRESS. 45 before her, and kissed her feet, and showed that they would be her servants. So she arose and went with them trustingly into the forest. Her strange companions accompanied her, sing- ing, dancing round her, strewing her path with green boughs and crowning her with garlands. All the woods echoed with their cries and the merry notes of their reeds; and old Sylvanus, the king of the forest, came out to learn the cause of these unwonted sounds. His people, coming near, presented Una to him, and then fell down again at her feet. Sylvanus himself did not know what to make of her ; he had never seen any one so fair before. At first he thought she must be Venus; then Diana, but he saw no bow and arrows in her hands. Then up came the wood-nymphs, and the light-footed naiads, and felt quite envious at her beauty. As for the satyrs, they cared for none but Una; and pleased with such for- tune, she lived in the forest for some time, trying to teach them many things. But she found it very diffi- cult ; for she was so beautiful, they thought she must be a goddess, and began to worship her. And when she told them this was very wrong and foolish, they worshipped her ass instead. As I said, she remained with them for some time, not knowing how to escape nor which way to go, till one day a noble, warlike knight came to the forest to46 UNA IN DISTRESS. see his relations ; for he had been born and brought up here, though now he had won much fame, and filled many lands with the glory of his name. And why? Because he was simple, faithful, and true, the enemy of shame and wrong; his great delight was to fight for distressed ladies, though he cared little for mere empty frays. As a child he had roamed about the forest fearlessly. His father wished him to be brave, so he made him hunt wild beasts, putting his little hand upon the fierce lion or bear, telling him to take bear cubs from their mother, and making him tame and ride wild roaring bulls. He ran so swiftly that he could overtake the roe- buck, and every animal fled quaking from before him. Even his father at last began to be alarmed, and begged him not to be rash, when he saw him putting together wild beasts in iron yoke—the panther, the boar with his great tusks, the swift leopard and cruel tiger, the antelope and wolf—making them all draw him. His mother one day met him unawares, carrying the cubs of a lioness quite fearlessly, though their mother ran behind roaring with rage. Terrified at the sight, she ¢ried out, “ Ah, Satyrane, my darling, leave off for my sake this dreadful play; risk not death in this way; find out other playfellows, my own sweet boy.” In these and such like sports he delighted till he grew to riper years, and was so brave he feared noth- SSIES ERSUNA IN DISTRESS. A7 ing. ‘Then he wished to turn his arms against more worthy foes; so he went abroad seeking adventures, in which he was so successful that his fame was pro- claimed all through Fairyland. But it was his custom, after long wanderings and labours, to retire for a while to his old home; and now, having returned thither, he found the fair Una— strange sight there—teaching the satyrs, who sat round her drinking in her words. Much wondered the knight at her heavenly wisdom, the like of which he had never seen in woman, and he grieved that she had passed through such troubles. He was constantly by her side, learning faith and truth from her. But no solace or companion could make her forget her dear Red Cross Knight, and she thought over every possible way to escape, till at last she told Satyrane her story, and said how much she wished to go and seek her lost friend. He, glad to gain her favour, began to think how to manage it; and one day, when the satyrs were absent on a visit to Sylvanus, he took her out of the wood and rode away with her. Too late now it was for the satyrs to be told, or hope to bring her back again: he seeks for a thing in vain who, having it, cannot hold it. So swiftly did Satyrane carry away the forlorn maiden that they were soon past the woods and on the plain.48 UNA IN DISTRESS. When they had travelled the greater part of the day, they spied an old pilgrim toiling along, who seemed to have come from distant countries, he looked so travel- stained and weary. The knight, riding up to him, inquired if he had heard of any wars or adventures. “None,” replied he. Then Una asked—as she always did—if he had heard any tidings of a Knight of the Red Cross. “Ay me! dear lady,’ he answered; “I grieve to tell you I have seen that knight, both living and dead.” On hearing these terrible words she fell down faint- ing, and it was a long time before the kind knight could restore her. When she came to herself she said, “Go on, and tell me more of this sad story, now I know the worst.” So the old man began :— “T saw this day,—a sad day to me,—two knights fighting fiercely. I trembled at the sound of their weapons, and at the sight of their wounds. But I could do nothing to stop them; and oh, woe the day! at last one of them fell; and I saw a red cross graven on his shield.” : “Where,” said the knight Satyrane, “is that cruel foe, who has bereft him of life and us of joy?” “T left him,” returned the pilgrim, “washing his hands at a fountain hard by.” You may guess this pilerim was no other than the SISAAMSSSS SESS SEES SELENA ES EEE NEES SESE ESUNA’S TERROR, Page 51. }os 7UNA IN DISTRESS. 51 deceiver Archimago, who led Satyrane to Sansloy, who was resting by the fountain. “Come forth,” said Satyrane to him, “and maintain your cause, or else die, for being guilty of the death of a good knight.” On this the two began to fight, for Sansloy said he had not seen the Red Cross Knight, but had once fought instead with Archimago. And Una, coming up slowly, found them thus tearing and wounding each other; and seeing who it was, she fled away, terrified lest again she should be captured by this tyrant. Archimago, who was enjoying this contest, seeing her go, followed her, to try and work her further woe. “And now we must take leave of this poor distressed maiden to return to her knight, which will require another chapter ; so we must stop for to-day, children.” “Thank you very much, aunt. Will you explain some of this to us?” cried the listeners, “Whom does Archimago represent, for he keeps appearing in different characters ?” “Perhaps, Sydney, you could answer that question, if you think. Did he not always try to deceive? And so he may be taken to mean the spirit of evil which is abroad in the world, which men call ‘lying’ or ‘deceit, which is always at war with ‘truth, seeking to overcome it.”52 UNA IN DISTRESS. “What had the lion to do with Una? I think that is one of the prettiest parts,” said Daisy. “How frightened she must have been when she saw him coming !” “Yes, indeed,” continued Ruth; “but she was not afraid afterward; and how sorry she must have felt — when he was killed! If Una represents truth, what does the lion mean, Aunt Alice?” “Do you always like to believe things you cannot understand, Ruth ?” “No, aunt.” “Well, reason is a very good servant when truth is its mistress; but even reason fails sometimes, when wicked lawlessness fights against truth and _ holiness. Not that lawlessness can really conquer in the end; but it seems sometimes as if it were going to carry everything before it. Think how many true and good men have suffered for truth even when reason was on their side, while truth itself has never been, and never will be, destroyed.” “JT am so glad,” exclaimed George, “that Una got free from wicked Sansloy. If I had been a knight I should like to have met her, and carried her away to some safe place.” “Do you know, George, you can do something quite as noble and beautiful? Seek truth for yourself, and when you have found her, always carry her about withUNA IN DISTRESS. 53 you, and guard her from being overcome, as far as lies in your power. You may have a long search, but if it 1s in earnest, you will indeed be rewarded; for she never deceives any one, as all who really love her can witness.” “O aunt, I will try.” And George’s eyes kindled as he made the resolve to be a good man, and win glory and honour for the truth.CERNE TER, EEE THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. ANOTHER afternoon, the children having assembled at the appointed time, their aunt continued :— We left the Red Cross Knight caring for Duessa, whom he imagined to be the good Fidessa. When she was restored and able to set forth again, she led him to a splendid castle called the House of Pride. A broad road led up to it, and here crowds of people were travelling. It seemed a magnificent place afar off, made of red brick, cunningly laid without mortar, and painted all sorts of gorgeous colours; towers, galleries, windows, all these were added to this imposing building. But on nearer view it was found to be situated on a sandy hill, and was so shaky that every wind threat- ened to blow it down. Notwithstanding this, it was the dwelling-place of Queen Lucifera, who disdained all lowly things, and shone with as great magnificence as ever did kings of the Hast. SOOO~ Jona THe WOUSE OF. PRI DIE: Page 54.THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. o7 The road was worn bare by the great troops of people who went thither, both day and night, in every condi- tion of life; but few of them returned, having hardly escaped with beggary and disgrace, and these ever after lay along the hedges in miserable plight. Arrived here, the knight and his companion passed in as if by right; for all the gates stood wide open, only in charge of them was the porter Malvenu, who denied entrance to none (though his name meant it was a sad thing to enter), and from thence they passed to the hall, which was beautifully and richly furnished. Here also were crowds of people waiting for the long-wished-for sight of the lady of this palace. “Past these gazers they went into the presence-cham- ber, so brilliant that no court of a living prince equalled it; and here a number of lords and ladies were stand- ing round, who by their presence helped. to beautify the place. At one end, raised above all, was placed a gorgeous throne covered with a rich cloth of state. On this there sat a maiden queen, who glittered with gold and precious stones, which were yet eclipsed by her bright beauty. So proud she looked with her head lifted up, as if earth were far beneath her notice, and underneath her scornful feet lay a great dragon. She held a mirror in her hand, in which she often looked at her face, for in this she took great delight.58 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. Her great ambition was to be higher than any one else; and men might well call her proud, for she had made herself a crowned queen, though she had no right- ful kingdom or inheritance ; she had usurped the sceptre she held, and did not rule her kingdom with wise laws, but only as it pleased her whims, and by the advice of six old wizards who gave her bad counsel. When the knight and his companion entered, they were ushered into the queen’s presence by the steward Vanity; and all eyes were turned towards Duessa, for she was known of old, and was warmly welcomed by all. Making humble obeisance on bended knee, the two friends gave as the cause of their coming the desire to see the queen’s state, and prove if the reports of her were true. With lofty eyes, that seemed unwilling to look down, Lucifera thanked them disdainfully; no other grace did she show, and scarcely bade them rise. Meantime her courtiers all vied with each other as to who should make the best impression on the strangers: some set their curled hair to rights, others pulled out their ruffles, and others looked at their dresses; but all . were envious of each other. While Duessa was exchanging courtesies with her old acquaintances, the knight, looking round him, thought all this pretence of glory very vain, and the SENTHE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 59 princess herself most proud who had given so little welcome to a strange knight. Just then, Lucifera was preparing to go for a ride. At once there was great stir. As the fair dawn comes out of the east and calls the day, so she went forth dazzling with her brightness the eyes of those who pushed and jostled each other, thronging into the hall to gaze at her. Her coach was adorned with gold and garlands, and was drawn by six animals, on which sat her six counsellors. And strange beasts they were to draw the chariot. An ass, a pig, a camel, a goat, a lion, and a wolf, harnessed together in pairs, formed a curious team ! First rode Idleness, the nurse of Sin, who guided all the rest, on the lazy ass. He was dressed in black, and carried a little book in his hand that was much worn but little read. He was so drowned in sleep he could hardly hold up his heavy head to see whether it were night or day. Surely the way was very wrongly shown when such a one guided the chariot, and knew not whether he went rightly or astray. Beside him was placed the deformed creature Glut- tony, on a dirty pig. He was always ready to gobble up food he did not want, and poor starving creatures would have been glad of. Every one detested the sight of him. He was so taken up with eating and drink- ing that he could think of nothing else, and certainly60 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. was quite unfit for a royal counsellor, when he could not even tell friend from foe. Then came Jealousy, dressed in green, riding on the goat, ugly indeed to look at. Greedy Avarice was his companion, who was mounted on a camel laden with gold. Two iron chests hung by his side full of precious metal, and besides these he counted over a heap of money in his lap. For he worshipped wealth, and whether he got it rightly or wrongly mattered nothing to him. He looked almost ready to die; wearing a thread- bare coat and cobbled shoes, hardly tasting good food all his life, for fear he should spend his precious money, which he loved to hoard, though he had no one to leave it to. What a wretched life he led, through daily anxiety to get and nightly fear to lose! Most miserable man, for whom nothing could suffice, whose greedy desire was wanting in the greatest store; whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him poor; who had enough, yet always wished for more. He was tor- mented in feet and hands with grievous gout, so that he could not comfortably touch, or go, or stand. Such was Avarice. After him came wicked Envy on a hunery wolf. He was grinding his teeth at the sight of his neigh- bour’s wealth ; for he hated to see the good of others, though always he rejoiced when he heard of harm.THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 61 He wept often, though he had no cause to do so, and grudgingly coveted the happiness of Lucifera and his own company. Even his dress befitted him, made of discoloured thin stuff, painted all over with eyes. Oh what a vile thing is Envy, that hates all virtuous deeds, and turns all good to bad! Beside him rode fierce, avenging Wrath, seated on a lion unwilling to be led. In his hand he held a burn- ing torch, which he brandished about his head. His eyes shot forth fiery looks, glaring sternly on all who beheld him; one hand was on his dagger, and he trem- bled with rage. His garments were torn by his own hands in his fits of frenzy, for he had no control over them, and cared not whom he slew, or even if he hurt himself. He would often repent his wild acts, but never could foresee what mischief would follow his hastiness. And indeed many sad things follow Anger, —bloodshed, tumultuous strife, unmanly murder, bitter- ness, grief, and many others. Who would not shun such a train as this, with Idleness to lead, and Wrath to bring up the rear, all servants of Pride ? All being ready, the procession set forth into the fields, passing crowds of admiring spectators on the way—Duessa going next to the chariot of the proud queen, as one of her dearest friends; while the knight, who did not like the appearance of Lucifera, preferred to remain at the castle.62 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. When the princess and her train returned, they found a stranger knight just arrived, called Sansjoy, who, seeing his brother’s shield in the dwarf’s keeping, leaped upon him furiously, and snatched it away. On seeing this, the knight from Fairyland ran up and rescued the token of his late victory. Of course this led to a fight, and they would most likely have killed each other on the spot, but for the intervention of the queen, who commanded them to desist. Peace being restored, the two knights pleaded for a trial by combat, to prove which had right on his side. This was appointed for the next day; after which they all went to the banquet, and then retired to rest, the fairy knight thinking all night of how he could best achieve honour in the trial of the morrow, for he disdained his heathen foe. Next morning the sun rose clear and bright, waking with his burning rays our hero. He immediately began to prepare for the combat, equipping himself in his splendid armour, which shone like the sun itself. Then he went forth into the hall, where all eyes were directed towards him in admiration. Soon after came forth the bold Saracen, and olared fiercely at his foe, who returned his gaze steadily ; for what had he to fear ? The lists were arranged on a grassy plain, and the haughty queen took her seat under a stately canopy, with Duessa opposite to her, over whose head hung theTHE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 63 shield of the dead Sansfoy, which, with Duessa, was to be the prize of the victor. Everything being arranged, the trumpet was sounded, and the two knights began their contest. For a long time the battle seemed undecided: the combatants fought bravely, the one for right and the other for wrong. And ’twas pity to see the grievous wounds they received, the armour dimmed and stained, and the fierce blows that rained on shields and helmets, At last Sansjoy caught sight of his brother’s shield, and in redoubled rage he cried, “Go, base knight, and jom my brother, whom thou hast sent to the kingdom of Pluto, and tell him I have redeemed his shield.” With that he gave the good knight such a blow on his crest that twice he reeled and nearly fell; and Duessa cried out, “Thine, Sansjoy, am I, and the shield and all.” Now when the fairy knight heard his lady speak, he roused himself out of his deadly faint, and moved with wrath and shame at the thought of being dis- graced in the eyes of fair ladies, once more struck at his enemy, and forced him on to his knee, saying to him, “Go thou, proud man, and give thy message thy- self to thy brother, and say thy foe bears thy shield with his.” Lifting up his sword, he prepared for the final stroke, when suddenly a mist fell and completely hid his opponent. He called aloud, and looked on all sides,64 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. but nowhere could Sansjoy be found. Darkness shrouded him altogether. Then Duessa ran to the Red Cross Knight, crying out, “Now, brave knight, cease from thy anger and vengeance; the servants of Pluto have hidden thy enemy. Be content, and take the rewards of thy victory and enjoy thy triumph.” The knight, finding it was useless to seek any longer for his fallen foe, went to pay his respects to the queen, and then retired, followed by the applause of all the Spectators. “What had become of Sansjoy?” interrupted Sydney. “What a disappointment to the good knight not to be able to find him!” “You shall hear,” said Aunt Alice. While the Red Cross Knight was being tended and having his wounds dressed, Duessa, after weeping till evening, apparently in great sorrow, left the house and went hastily to the eastern boundary of the heavens, where dark-robed Night held sway. Here she stopped, and entering, saw the old dame preparing to take her journey through the sky. Duessa went up to her, praying her to take pity on her and listen to her tale, saying that she was the daughter of Deceit and Shame. The old woman received her joyfully ; and when she heard that Sansjoy had been wounded nearly to death, she entered her iron chariot, and taking Duessa withTHE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 65 her, drove to the place where Sansjoy had been carried, bereft of outward sense or feeling, and covered with the same dark cloud that had hidden him from his foe. The two women took him up, and placing him in the _ chariot, drove with him to the dark domains of Pluto, passing Cerberus, the three-headed dog who kept the gates, and who tried to stop them; but he was pacified by old Night, and suffered them to enter. Then continuing their way, they came at length to the cave of old Atsculapius, Apollo’s son, who was famed on earth for his healing power. Here they stopped, and taking off the armour, and showing the wounds of Sansjoy, they asked Aisculapius to heal him. At first the sage refused, but on being pressed by Night, consented to cure her charge. So leaving Sansjoy in the physician’s hands, the two friends returned to upper air. On reaching at length the House of Pride, Duessa found to her dismay that the Red Cross Knight had left. His faithful page had seen terrible things in that castle. Men and women who had given themselves into the care and service of the bad Lucifera were treated by her after a little time with great cruelty. Condemned to a dark and terrible dungeon, there to pine out their miserable days, were seen many whose names have come down to us in history. There was (807) D66 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. the great king of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar, that wished all nations to adore him; till for his pride he was driven from men, and made to eat grass like an ox. There also were King Crcesus, whose heart was lifted up through the abundance of his wealth; and proud Antiochus, who dared to defy God, and despised his altars. Nimrod, Ninus king of Assyria, Romulus, proud Tarquin of Rome, Scipio, Hannibal, Sylla, Marius, great Czesar and his noble foe Pompey, fierce Antonius, and many others, were there, together with proud, vain women, such as Semiramis and Cleopatra, —all of whom had thus brought themselves into this bondage to the wicked queen. ~ When our hero heard of these things, and knew that many knights and ladies were there who had once per- haps been as earnest and sincere as he was, he trembled lest he too should be overtaken by a like sad fate; so rising early, he with his page left this dreadful place, glad and thankful to be saved, and mourning over the wrecks of those he passed, who had surrendered them- selves to the dominion of Pride. When Duessa found that the knight had left, she went forth to seek him far and wide; for, as we know, she wanted to make him her prey. At length she found him seated by a fountain, reclining on the cool erass, having put off his armour, and bathing his aching brow in the clear water. She came up to him, saying,THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 67 “How is it thou hast left me, my lord and knight? how couldst thou go soon forget me?” “Ah, dear lady, I did not forget thee; but I dared not stay longer in that fatal House of Pride.” She answered with such loving words that she quite comforted him, and they passed some time in pleasant converse; and the knight, feeling thirsty, stooped down and drank some of the water by his side. Kre long he felt his strength begin to fail; he shook all over as with an ague, and a deadly faintness seized on him, owing to that strange and charmed water: for this fountain had once been one of Diana’s nymphs, who, getting weary in the chase, sat down to rest, and the goddess being angry, turned her into ‘a fountain, with the command that whoever drank of her waters should grow faint and feeble as she was then, While the knight thus lay in a half stupor, he heard a terrible sound in the distance. Starting up, he tried to put on his invincible armour, which he had foolishly cast aside. But before he could do go, a huge, terrible giant came stalking into sight. His head seemed to reach up to the sky, and he utterly scorned all those who were smaller and weaker than himself. He was leaning as he walked upon a massive oak, which he had torn from the earth, and used as his mace. No sooner did he perceive the knight than he advanced to him, brandishing his club, and looking68 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. upon him with fury. Our poor hero, weak and faint, and helpless without his armour, addressed himself to the unequal fight. His hand shook so that he could scarcely hold his sword, and before he had time to give one stroke, the giant thundered down such a heavy blow with his mace, that he would have been crushed to atoms but for heavenly grace which upheld him. Seeing the blow coming, he leaped aside, yet the wind caused by the mighty tree so stunned him that he sank to the earth as dead. When the giant saw this, he lifted up his hand to crush him, and would have made an end of him, had not Duessa called out, “O great Orgoglio, stay thy hand for my sake and kill him not, but make him thy slave for ever.” Orgoglio, hearing her voice, drew back ; and seeing who she was, joyfully accosted her. Taking up the senseless knight, he carried him to his castle near, where he threw him into a dungeon dark and deep, while he loaded Duessa with favours, treating her like a queen, and giving her gold and purple dresses and a splendid triple crown. And in order to make her more dreaded by men, he brought out of a gloomy cave a huge monster like a serpent, with seven heads and a long tail, which should carry her whenever she wished to ride forth abroad. | |THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 69 The woful dwarf, who saw his master’s sad and terrible fall while he was guarding his grazing steed, sorrowfully took up his armour—that armour which had never been more needed than now: the mighty silver shield, the strong spear, the redoubted helmet and breastplate—and with these relics departed to tell his great distress. He had not travelled far before he met Una flying fast from that fierce Saracen whom Satyrane was hindering from following. When she caught sight of these sad tokens of her missing lord, she fell senseless to the earth, and it was only the beating of her heart that gave sion of life. The unhappy messenger would have liked to die too; yet striving to recover himself, he gave his attention to restoring his mistress, chafing her hands and head, and trying by every means in his power to bring her back to consciousness. At last, opening her eyes, she thus spoke: “Oh, why do my eyes look longer on the light, or care to gaze on earthly things, now that the threads are severed which bound my life and love together? And thou, glad day, which lightest up all things beautiful, hence- forth hide thy face from me and let me die, since my lord and love is no more!” Thrice she sank down, and thrice the anxious dwarf restored her with earnest care; and at length she said,70 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. “Say on whatever you have to tell, for now from the sight of these tokens I know the worst has happened, and I cannot hear anything more terrible; it may be the evil is less than I fear.” Then the dwarf began, and related to her his master’s history from the time he had left her,—how he met Fidessa; the conquest of Sansfoy; the tale he had heard from Fradubio; how he had gone to the House of Pride, and had fought with Sansjoy. “And now,” groaned he, “he is taken captive by a fierce, cruel giant, and whether he is dead or alive I know not.” Una heard this patiently to the end; but it almost rent her heart in twain, for never did lady love any one more strongly than she did the Red Cross Knight, for whose dear sake she had endured so many trials. Presently, when her grief was somewhat abated, she rose up, determined to seek him till she found him, alive or dead, and wandered on in the way the dwarf pointed out, traversing many a wood and hill and valley in weariness and pain. One day she chanced to meet a goodly knight, who, together with his squire, was arrayed in armour bright. It shone far off like the beams of the sun, and from top to toe no joint appeared bare. Across his breast a baldric brave he wore, studded with precious and rare stones that glittered like the twinkling stars. And in the midst was one jewel of rare beauty that almostTHE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 71 dazzled the sight, from which hung his wondrous sword in ivory sheath of curious workmanship. The hilt of this sword was of burnished gold and mother-of-pearl, and it was fastened to his girdle with a golden clasp. His towering helmet, bright with gold, was crested with the image of a dragon, made of the same precious metal. Upon the top of this lofty crest a bunch of hairs, covered with sprinkled pearls and gold, shook and danced as he moved, But his shield was the most splendid of all, and was closely covered, that it might not be seen; for not of steel, or brass, or even silver was it made. Such metals were too base. But it was framed of one pure, perfect diamond, hewn out of the rock, and no point of spear or dint of sword could pierce it. This shield, so clear and flaming, he never disclosed but when he wanted to strike terror into the hearts of his foes; for so brightly it shone that even the sun seemed less bright beside it. Nor was this all; for it was proof against all enchantment, and all that was not what it seemed faded and shrank before it; and when the knight wished, he could turn men to stones, and stones to dust, and dust to nothing, through the virtue of this weapon. And well might this be, for Merlin the great magician had made this shield for the young prince when first he took to arms; and when he died the Fairy Queen72 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. took it to Fairyland, where it may yet be seen if sought for. Now when this glorious knight drew near to Una, he began to speak with kind and courteous words, but soon perceived that she had some great and secret trouble which he gently sought to discover. Then Una began,— “What joy or comfort can I take in words of any living man ? bitter lot. It is better hidden, and my last comfort is to lament My heart grows cold when I think of my What good can it do to disclose my grief ? my fate.” “Ah, dear lady,” quoth then the gentle knight, “well do I see that your grief is very great; yet, I beseech you, unfold to me your woe, for he never yet found help who did not disclose his trouble.” “Oh, but,” replied she, “great grief can better be imagined than told.” “True; but he that never would do anything never could, tor will gives greatest help to power.” “Yet grief,” she continued, “grows greater by being told. “There is no despair,’ he answered, “where there is faith.” “Yes; but no faith is so strong that trouble may not If it finds not help it brings despair.” weaken it.” “That is so, but reason may help to restore it.”THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 13 His gentle and wise speech overcame her, and she repled,— “I, the forlorn maiden whom you see before you, am the only daughter of a king and queen whose sway extended far and wide, till their cruel enemy, a dragon huge and stern, wasted their kingdom on all sides, and forced them to take refuge in a strong brazen castle, in which they have been immured four years. Many strong, stout knights have ventured forth to subdue this monster; but all have failed, either from want of faith or through weakness from sinful heart, and the foe gets flercer every day. “At last I was led hither by report of the brave knights of Fairyland, and sped to the noble court of great Gloriana, queen of glory bright, there to seek one who might help and release my dear parents. “TI found there a young and unproved knight, whose hands were not dyed with guilty blood, and who had never had a combat; yet has he proved himself a worthy, doughty knight in many a cruel fight, as I can wit- ness. “T hoped strongly, and thought my hopes would be fulfilled, that he would overcome our foe, till one sad, heavy day a wicked enchanter deceived him, and made him believe me untrue—I, who would rather die than be that. “Oh, how I loved him, and do love him still! So did IPeed eee a Be See ¥) SMM Le cat is rere. ee 74 THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. think of him, and believe I thought aright. Thenceforth he left me desolate, to wander where I would, and took other ways himself, meeting with the bad Duessa, my great and only foe and dread, who has bewitched him, and led him in her ways, till she has betrayed him to a giant who has surprised him, and cast him into a fear- ful dungeon where he can get no help—he who never yet fell before any foe. This is my tale, and is there not cause enough for grief?” The courteous knight answered, “Good cause hast thou, fair lady, to complain; but be of good cheer, for till I have released thy captive knight I will not for- sake thee.” | His cheerful words began to revive her spirit, and they rode forth together, the dwarf leading them rightly to the knight’s place of imprisonment. “Now,” said Aunt Alice, pausing in the tale, “we must stop, as it is already late, and we have no time to _ talk to-night. You must keep all your questions for another day. So run home, or mother will wonder where you are.” d «Aunt, do you know,” said Daisy, “ mother has given us a holiday to-morrow because Uncle Will is coming, and we want you to come with us to Lyndhurst Tower, if it is a fine day, and then, if you like, we can have some more of the story there. So please do come if you can.”Tints GOCMEE IN CHet eS) AOS Page 74.THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. ~I ~I “T will try what I can do, Daisy, for that is one of my favourite haunts.” As she spoke, a merry good-night was uttered by all the four, and they scampered off home across the fields.CHAPTER. IV. THE PICNIC. THE following morning rose clear and beautiful. ‘The sun seemed to know that he was desired to put on his best appearance, and he certainly tried to do so. Nota cloud covered the sky, as the four children, having put away lesson-books for a while, ran off to find their aunt. What was their dismay on being told that she had suddenly been sent for that morning to Southampton to see a dear friend who was going abroad, and that she would not be back for some days. But there was no help for it, so they returned, a good deal more slowly than they had gone. “Mother,” said Sydney, “ Aunt Alice has gone away, and will not be back for some days. What are we to dog? “ Keep a bright face, my boy, and wait patiently till she comes back.” “But she left off in such an interesting part of the story. I can’t wait; I want to hear it directly.”THE PICNIC. 79 “T daresay that poor knight thought he could not wait, remarked Ruth, “when he was put into the dungeon; but he had to. JI wonder who this new knight is? I think he is some one nice; don’t you?” “JT think he is, because his armour was so splendid ; but who he is I cannot imagine.” “T can guess,’ interrupted Daisy, who rather prided herself on having read more than the others: “I believe we shall find it is King Arthur.” “Perhaps it was. Well, any way, he was a jolly fellow.—lI say, George, should you not like to have met him and seen his shield? I think J could risk being blinded just to see its flashing rays.” Here Uncle Will broke in, “ Whatever are you chil- dren talking about? It seems to me you have a pretty ' good time of it down at Aunt Alice’s.” “T should think we have, uncle. You should just hear the way she tells stories. And this one is partly true, and so interesting. I wish you would come and hear it.” “Perhaps Aunt Alice might not like me for a listener. At any rate, I can only stay here a few days, so I may be gone by the time she returns. Now, I want to know whether you mean to take me to Lyndhurst Tower to-day or not.” “Oh yes, uncle, and then you can carry us over any rough places we come to. That will be nice,” exclaimed the girls.80 THE. RCN: “Part of the way is so steep, it takes us a long time to get up.” “Ihave thought of a better plan than that,” said Mrs. Ingoldsby. “Why not take old Neddy? He can carry the basket if you are going to take your dinner, and then any one who is tired can ride.” “Capital!” cried Uncle Will. «I propose we start as SOON as we can.” So the kind mother packed up a large store of good things—white and brown bread and golden butter ; meat-pies, cakes, fruit; I know not what beside ; and, to crown all, a saucepan for potatoes was slung on, which greatly delighted the children, as they would have to make a fire for boiling the water. When all was ready, they started off, Sydney and George leading the donkey, and the girls walking with their uncle, who amused them with all sorts of tales about foreion countries; for he was a captain, and had only just left his ship for a short time. “Don’t you think we have the nicest home you could find anywhere,” said Ruth, “and the prettiest ? Wherever you go you find something beautiful; and this walk we are taking to-day I like best of all.” They were going along a very pretty lane, on each side of which the banks were so high they seemed like walls: but very different from the walls you see in large cities, or even the houses, which are often justTHE PICNIC. 81 alike. Here every step showed something different to a careful observer. At the top, over-arching trees stood, and waved their boughs, making a cool shade from the fierce heat. Just under them the banks shelved, so that the roots stuck out in all kinds of curious, fantastic shapes. Then round about grew tufts of grasses and flowers; and turning to another corner, a lovely cluster of ferns might be seen—polypodium, lady-fern, spleenwort, and others. _There was constant variety and ever-changing beauty. “TI like to imagine the flowers and insects are real people,” said Daisy, “and make up stories about them to myself. Look at this stellaria, with its lovely white flowers; is it not like Una, Ruth? And this poppy would do splendidly for Duessa.” “Yes; only I think you are rather hard on the poppy, Daisy; for Duessa only seemed beautiful, and the poppy is really so. Look at its splendid scarlet and soft bloom.” “Well, it does not smell nice, at any rate,” replied Daisy. “Oh, do look here! This must be a fairy haunt.” She pointed to a small hollow in the bank, which was almost overshadowed with grass and flowers. When these were pushed aside, a most exquisite nest of ferns was discovered, little ones growing among the larger fronds, and underneath them a cushion of soft (807) 682 THE PICNIC. green moss. And just outside was a long tunnel made of some curious white-looking stuff, which would puzzle a London child. “Have you ever seen a nest like this before, uncle? Can you guess what it is?” “Yes, Daisy; I have seen a great many, and also a very curious and beautiful one of the same kind abroad, which has a little door at the entrance fastened by a most perfect hinge, and which can be opened or closed at the will of the occupant.” “ Now, I did want to puzzle you, uncle. Look here!” She tickled the entrance of the tunnel gently with a piece of grass, and up popped a spider, thinking, no doubt, that it was some careless fly, which had become entangled in the sticky web, and seeming very disap- pointed on finding out what was the real cause of the disturbance. “Do you see what a long way the tun- nel runs into the bank? I think the spider is a very clever animal. And the web is so strong too. I do feel sorry, though, for the flies, poor things.” “Did you ever see a fly kill a spider, Daisy ?” “No, uncle; have you ?” “Yes, and a sore battle it was too. The combatants were about equally matched. The fly was a brilliant red and green one, with a long thin body, and very wiry. The spider jumped on him from behind, think- ing to capture him easily; but the fly, being of a nimble disposition, hopped round and faced him. AndHAE. PICNIC. 83 then began a fight in real earnest, The spider tried to get behind, and out of reach of the fly’s bite, for he knew that was anything but pleasant; and the fly in his turn was just as determined to keep his face to the foe. He was not going to shirk fight. At it they went, first one and then another, till the fly did give the spider a bite which seemed to half paralyze him. He still endeavoured feebly to resist, but in vain ; and the triumphant victor dragged him up to a hole in the wall, near which they had fought. But here a new difficulty presented itself. The fly, of course, went up backwards, dragging the spider. Just when he came near the hole, a piece of mortar or brick sticking out stopped his progress, and down fell the spider. This went on for some time, the fly going up and dropping the spider, and having to fetch him again, till at last he left his booty on the ground, ran up head foremost, searched carefully all round to find what had hindered him, and then for the last time took up the spider, and, though going backwards, went’ rownd the obstruction and into the hole.” * “What a clever fly! I should like to have seen that battle,” said both the boys, who had heard the latter part of this anecdote, as they sat on the bank waiting for the others to come up. “Come, children ; if we stop talking here, we shall “ A fact, having been witnessed by a friend of the author’.84 THE PICNIC. never get to Lyndhurst Tower to-day, so let us make the best of our way onward.” They continued their way without further interrup- tion, the girls riding by turns as they began the ascent. The road passed across sandy heaths, after they left the woods and lanes; and then at the foot of the hill they entered another pine grove, with its dark cool shade and sweet scent; then’ out again on the side of a hill where the graceful bracken grew luxuriantly. Here they stopped to rest for a few minutes, and dip their hands in a little stream that flowed down into the valley. Then up they went, following the wind- ines of this little rill as it meandered about, sometimes almost hidden by the ferns and mosses and flowers that grew on its margin, till, as they nearly reached the top, not one but many streamlets branched off in different directions, yet all springing from the same grassy slope. Who can forget, who has once known the delights of a country ramble, the utter enjoyment of such a time? The boys went here, there, and everywhere, chasing the bright blue butterflies, gathering sticks for the fire, ete., while the rest followed more leisurely. Arrived at the top, they took out the cloth and spread the good things on it, lighted the fire, peeled the potatoes and popped them into the boiling water, feel- ing quite important at having so much intrusted to them. Surely never before did potatoes taste so nice,THE PICNIC. 85 After dinner, Uncle Will wished to enjoy himself, as he called it; so he took out his pipe, chose a shady place where he had a good view, and stretched himself on the grass. It was a lovely panorama. As he lay there, he could look over on one side to the sea, as it glistened in the summer sun, so calm and blue. On the other he looked across the fertile valley to another range of hills which bounded the horizon. Not a house was visible for some distance ; he was on the highest point of the hill, which was crowned with the ruins of an old watch- tower, which had often proved of good service in time of war or invasion, and from which the hill took its name. Looking down, he could see how one after another the hills sloped away, and seemed to fit into one another, like bits of a puzzle; while doxgn in these valleys a few ponies, cows, and sheep were feeding. Indeed, some of them had paid them a visit during dinner. They came up and stared at these new-comers, as if they could not at all make out what kind of crea- tures they were. Not a single person was in sight; there was no sound except the nibbling of the animals, the chirping of grasshoppers, the humming of bees, as they. went about their business, which could not stop even for a stranger. Truly it was a spot in which to give oneself up to enjoyment. The children scampered about, collecting objects for their museum, not noticing that they had aw” Zz as ea i j . ; Sa te TT i ha _ | > he a ES ar he ae ea