Chapter 113 [part 3 of 4]

[What Nasciano said to Amadis and King Perion in his quest to make peace.]

[14th-century Gothic sculpture from the Doorway of the Apostles at the Cathedral of Valencia. Photo by Sue Burke.]
 
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And so the King and Nasciano entered the great tent where many knights and other people were, and as the hermit wished to bid the King farewell, that handsome childe, his ward Esplandian, came in through a door to the tent with his foster-brother Sarguil. Queen Brisena had sent him to learn news about her lord the King. When the good man saw how much he had grown, now almost a man, who could tell you of the joy he felt? Truly, it would be impossible. And as Nasciano was still with the King, he went to Esplandian as fast as he could to embrace him. The childe, although he had not seen him for a long time, immediately recognized him and came to kneel before him and began to kiss his hands. The holy man took him in his arms and kissed him many times with such great joy that he was almost completely out of his mind, and he held him that way for a long time and could not let him go, speaking to him this way:

“Oh my good child, blessed be the hour in which thy wert born, and blessed and praised be the Lord who by such a miracle wished to give thee life and reach such an estate as my eyes now see thee.”

And as this was happening, everyone was watching what the good man said and did and the great pleasure that it gave him to see the boy he had raised, and their hearts were moved to mercy to see such love.

But above all others, while he did not show it, was the pleasure that King Lisuarte felt, for although earlier he had esteemed and loved the boy for what he expected from him and for his great handsomeness, it was nothing in comparison to knowing that he was actually his grandson, and he could not take his eyes from him. Such was the great love that suddenly came over him that all the passion and anger that until then he had held about the past left him and was turned into the opposite, as it had been in the time when he had the most love for Amadis. And immediately he recognized the great truth in what Urganda the Unrecognized had written: that Esplandian would bring peace between himself and Amadis, so he firmly believed that everything else she had said would also come true.

The good man embraced Esplandian with great love, then released him from his arms, and the childe went to kneel before the King to give him a letter from the Queen, in which she begged him to seek peace and accord if it could be done with honor, and many other things that it is not necessary to speak of. The good man said to the King:

“My lord, I shall take it as a great favor and consolation to my spirit if ye were to give Esplandian permission to accompany me in my travels so I shall have time to look at him and speak with him.”

“So it shall be done,” the King said, “and I order that ye shall not be parted from him until ye wish it.”

The good man thanked him sincerely and said:

“My good and blessed son, come with me, since the King orders it.”

The childe told him:

“My good lord and true father, I am very content with that, for I have wished to see you for a long time.”

And so Nasciano left the tent with those two youths, Esplandian and his nephew Sarguil, and he mounted his donkey and they their palfreys, and they took the road to where Amadis had his camp, the good man spoke with Esplandian about many things he would enjoy, all the while praying to God to give him the grace to carry out his mission in whatever would be in His holy service.

So in this company as ye hear, the saintly hermit arrived at the camp and went directly to Amadis’ tent, where he found so many knights so well dressed that he was amazed. Amadis did not recognize him since he had never seen him and could not imagine what a man so old and ill was seeking. And he looked at Esplandian and saw him more handsome than he believed a mortal person could be. He also did not recognize him, for although he had spoken to him when Esplandian asked for the two Roman knights Amadis had defeated and he gave them to him as this story has recounted, that sight of him was so brief that he had forgotten how he looked.

But Sir Cuadragante, who was there, recognized him immediately and went to him and said:

“My good friend, I wish to embrace you. And do you recall when Sir Brian of Monjaste and I met you, and you gave your regards for the Greek Knight? I gave them to him on your behalf.”

Then he said to Amadis:

“My good lord, ye see here the handsome young nobleman Esplandian, from whom Sir Brian of Monjaste and I gave you a message.”

When Amadis heard him called Esplandian, he immediately recognized him, and if seeing him gave him pleasure, this need not be told, and so he lost his senses with the great joy that he felt, and he could barely respond, nor was he in his right mind. And if anyone had been paying attention they would have clearly seen his alteration, but no one suspected such a thing, instead they all believed that no one other than Urganda knew who his father was. Then with Sir Cuadragante holding him by the hand, Amadis wished to embrace him, but Esplandian told him:

“Good lord, instead do honor to this saintly man Nasciano, who seeks you.”

And when they all heard it said he was Nasciano, who was so renowned everywhere for his saintly and austere life, they came to him with great humility and, with their knees on the ground, asked him to give them his blessing.

The hermit said:

“I beg to my Lord Jesus Christ that, if a blessing of such a sinner as I am can be of any good, that mine may abate the great rage and pride in your hearts and put you in such understanding of His service that, forgetting the vain things of this world, ye shall follow the truth of He who is truth itself.”

Then he raised his hand and blessed them. Amadis turned to Esplandian and embraced him. And Esplandian gave him recognition and reverence not as his father, for he did not know he was, but as the best knight he had ever heard spoken of. And for this reason he considered him very highly and his eyes were so content he could not take them from him, and from the day he saw him defeat the Romans, his desire had always been to travel in his company serving him to see his great deeds of knighthood and to learn for the future. And now that he found himself older and closer to being a knight, he desired it even more, and if it were not for the great division between his lord the King and Amadis, he would have already asked for permission to go with him, but these troubles made it impossible.

Amadis, who could hardly take his eyes from him, saw how the young nobleman looked at him so eagerly, and he suspected that he must know something. The good hermit, who knew the truth, looked at the father and son and as he saw them together and so handsome, he was as joyful as if he were in paradise. And in his heart he prayed to God for them and for it to be in His service to bring about great love and accord between him and all the other knights who were the finest in the world. And as they were all congregating around that saintly man, he said to Sir Cuadragante:

“My lord, I must speak about some things with Amadis. Take this childe with you, for he has spoken more with you than with any of these other lords.”

Then he took Amadis by the hand and drew him some distance away, and told him:

“My son, before making manifest the main reason for which I have come, I wish to remind you of the debt and thanks greater than any other man now alive that ye have with our Lord God, for at your birth ye were thrown into the sea inside an ark without any protection, and the Redeemer of the world, having mercy on you, miraculously brought you into the sight of he who raised you so well. This Lord of whom I speak has made you the most handsome, the strongest, the most loved, and themost honored of anyone known in the world. Having been given His grace, ye have defeated many valiant knights and giants and other wild and misshapen creatures who did great harm in this world. Ye are today in the world the most outstanding of all men.

“Since He has done so much for you, what is reasonable that ye should do for Him? For truly, if the Evil Enemy [Satan] does not fool you, with more humility and patience than anyone else ye should look to do His service, and if ye do not, all the grace and gifts that ye have received from God shall do harm and diminish your honor, because while His holy mercy is great in those who obey and know Him, so His justice is great on those who have received the greatest gifts from Him but have not given recognition or thanks for them.

“And now, my good son, ye shall know why I put this tired and old body before every danger to its health, wishing to follow the purpose for which I chose to leave behind all things of this perishable world. I have come with great labor and trouble to my spirit with the help of He without whom nothing good can be done, to create peace and love where there was rupture and misfortune, as there is at present. And as I have spoken with King Lisuarte, in whom I have found what every good minister of God must obey, I wish to know from you, my good lord, if ye have greater recognition to He who created you than to the vainglory of this world. And so that without distrust or fear ye may speak with me, I would have you know that before I came here, I went to Firm Island, and with the permission of Princess Oriana, from whom in confession I learned everything in her heart and her greatest secrets, I undertook this mission in which you see me now.”

Amadis, when he heard him say this, fully believed that he was telling the truth, because he was a saintly man and would never say anything unless it were true, and he responded to him this way:

“Friend of God and saintly hermit, if the knowledge that I have of the goods and gifts that I have received from my Lord Jesus Christ I were to have put to use in the services that I am obliged to Him, I would be the most blessed knight that was ever born, but I have received from him everything and much more than you have said, and I have not recognized nor repaid Him but instead I have offended Him every day in many things, and I consider myself very sinful and full of error against His commandments. And if now with your arrival I could amend something of the past, I would be very happy and content to do so. For that end, tell me what is in my grasp, and with full dedication it shall be carried out.”

“Oh blessed son!” the good man said. “How much ye have made my sinful soul glad and have consoled my sorrow at seeing so much evil. May the Lord who shall save you give you rewards for me! And now without any fear, I wish you to know what I learned after I came to this land.”

Then he told him everything he had spoken of with Oriana and how with her permission he came to her father the King and all the things that he had spoken of with him, and how he told him plainly that Oriana was married to Amadis, and that the noble youth Esplandian was his grandson, and how the King had listened with great patience and was now very close to accepting peace. And since Nasciano, with the help of God, had placed him in that state of mind, Amadis should give orders so that, being married to the Princess, peace could be arranged between both sides. When Amadis heard this, his heart and flesh trembled with the great joy he had to know that by the wish of his lady their secret love had been made known, and he had her in his power without any risk of danger, and he said to the hermit:

“My good lord, if King Lisuarte is so disposed and he wishes me as his son, I shall take him as my lord and father to serve him in everything that may be to his honor.”

“Then so be it,” the good man said. “How do ye think these two intentions may be fully united so no more evil may come here?”

Amadis responded:

“It seems to me, father, that ye should speak with my lord King Perion and tell him the reason and desire with which ye came. If he considers it good to make peace with him and provided King Lisuarte agrees to that which Sir Cuadragante and Sir Brian of Monjaste on our behalf sought from him regarding the matter involving Oriana, I have so much faith in his virtue that ye shall achieve all the assurance that ye seek. And tell him that ye have spoken about this with me a little, but I place everything at his will.”

The good man believed he had spoken wisely and that is what he did: immediately he left Amadis’ tent and with his young nobleman and companions went to the tent of King Perion, who, knowing who he was, received him with great love and goodwill. The King looked at Esplandian, whom he had never seen, and was very amazed to see such a handsome and gracious youth, and he asked the holy hermit who he was. The holy man told him how he had raised him and how God had sent him in a miraculous way.

King Perion said:

“All the more miraculous, father, if this is the youth who led a lioness on a leash for hunting, and ye raised in the forest where you live, and of whom many amazing things will happen as the very wise Urganda the Unrecognized had sent to be told, if God lets him live. And it seems to me that I have been told that she sent a letter to King Lisuarte which said that this childe shall make great peace and accord between him and my son Amadis, and if it is so, we must all love and honor him greatly, since because of him so much good may come, as ye can see, father.”

The good and holy man Nasciano told him:

“My lord, this is truly whom ye speak of. And if ye have some reason to love him, ye shall have even more reason soon, when ye know more about him.”

Then he said to Esplandian:

“Son, kiss the hands of the King, who is well worthy of it.”

The young nobleman knelt to kiss his hands, but the King embraced him and told him:

“My childe, ye should be very grateful to God for the gift He gave you to be so handsome and graceful, so that even those who know nothing about you are attracted to you to love and esteem you. And since He was pleased to give you so much grace and good looks, if ye are obedient to him, much more He has promised you.”

The youth did not respond in any way. Instead, with great embarrassment at hearing himself praised by such a prince, his face grew red, which seemed very good to everyone to see such modesty at his age, and many people were amazed that such an outstanding person did not know who his father or mother was. The King asked the holy man Nasciano if he knew whose son he was. The good man told him:

“He is the son of God, who makes all things, although of mortal man and woman he was engendered and born. But given his beginning and the care God has taken to protect him and to see that he was well raised, it seems that He loves him like a son, and it will please Him by His holy clemency and mercy that soon ye shall know more about him.”

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How Esplandian almost killed his father Amadis

From Chapter 28 of The Exploits of Esplandian. 

“The exploits of the virtuous knight Esplandian, son of Amadis of Gaul”
 
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In the early versions of Amadis of Gaul, now lost, Amadis is tragically killed by his son Esplandian in combat – explained a bit more in depth here. However, in the 1508 version, that battle is never fought. Instead, in a sequel to Amadis of Gaul, called The Exploits of Esplandian, the son goes off to serve the glory of God by fighting infidels ... but an echo of their fateful encounter in the earlier tale is included in that novel:

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When Esplandian left the city of London [in the company of the doctor Elisabad and others ...] he took the road straight to Firm Island intending to avoid any joust or battle that might offer itself because neither desire nor ire burned in him except to make war on the enemies of the faith. And after they had gone three leagues, they entered a forest, and before they could leave it, almost another three lay ahead of them. After they had ridden for a while, they arrived at the great river that crossed the forest, over which there was a great bridge. [...] They saw a knight leave the riverbank on a large and beautiful horse, fully armed, with a lance in his hand as if he wished to joust. When they drew near him, the knight from the riverbank said:

“Knight, do not come forward, because I am the guardian of this bridge, which I must be to keep my word, but if ye cross it by force of arms, I will be free of my promise and ye from the labor of seeking another passage.”

Esplandian told him:

“If in the time of my father, who sought adventures in this land, and of the other famous knights who for such causes fought, this might come to pass and ye could test your fate as fortune might give you it; but I say to you, my lord knight, I would not wish his honor nor his fame, nor for God to give me such a path. Ye may block our way, but ye cannot block the countryside, which is exceedingly wide.”

Then he turned away, but the knight told him:

“In vain is your labor. Do ye think to find a place to ford the river before night falls?”

When Esplandian heard this, he said, somewhat angry:

“Knight, according to that, I cannot avoid doing battle with you. Well, if that is so, I wish to see if your hindrance will be a greater obstacle then taking the long way around.”

Then he laced on his helmet, put his shield around his neck, took up his lance, and said:

“Now make way or protect yourself for me!”

The other knight said nothing and instead had his horse gallop at him as fast as it could go. Esplandian did the same toward him, and their shields met the great blows of the lances and broke them without doing much harm. And as the horses were sturdy and the knights sought victory, they met so bravely, their shields and helmets striking against each other, that both crashed to the ground from their horses in such great falls that the doctor thought they were dead. But soon Esplandian got up and put his hand on his sword, with great shame for having fallen thus, and went at the other knight, who was ready to attack, and they began the bravest fight between each other that men had ever seen.

The doctor Elisabad watched them and said:

“Oh, holy Mary! What will become of this? For this is some devil in the form of a knight who has come to meet us in our confusion.”

The knights continued to battle for a full hour without resting or doing anything other than giving each other the most deadly and fierce blows that they could, so that their shields were in pieces and their chain mail torn and broken in many places, and so much blood flowed from them that the field was colored red. Then the knight of the bridge pulled back a little and said:

“Knight, leave this road and abandon the battle because, as ye are the best of all those I have tested myself against, it would be a great sorrow if ye were to lose your life here.”

Esplandian told him:

“If ye, knight, were such that ye considered me more virtuous than cowardly, it might be that ye said what ye did to make my will content, but knowing that ye have me in such difficulty that I believe the final glory will be the death of both of us, do not think of anything but defending yourself, and hold for certain that until death or defeat takes one of us from here, there shall be no other chance to rest from me.”

Then they attacked each other and returned to their battle with much more anger and strength than before, which went on for two long hours without either of them showing any weakness and each one of them testing all their strength. The noise of the blows was as if twenty knights were fighting there. Many times they struggled hand to hand, leaving their swords on their chains, but since they could not knock each other down, in the end they attacked each other again very cruelly.

When the doctor Elisabad saw them with such ire and in such danger he said:

“My friend Sargil [Esplandian’s squire], I think that Esplandian has found the grave at his tender and handsome age. My Lord God, protect him by Thy mercy, because his desire is none other than to expand Thy holy law!”

Sargil was terrified and tears fell down his cheeks to see the great difficulty in which his lord was. But it did not last much longer, because before the third hour was over, the knight of the bridge was in such a bad way and his weapons and armor so damaged that there was nothing for him except death. Esplandian attacked with great blows and continued so lively and lightly that he did not give him a single moment of rest; and those watching knew that if the knight of the bridge continued fighting any longer he would be dead.

When Esplandian saw that he was thus, his rage burned to see him in such difficulty, and he said:

“Sir knight, I have received great harm from you, and ye wished death to come to me unjustly; but I shall make you go first.”

Then he raised his sword to strike with all his strength, but the other knight, who could no longer raise his own sword, shouted and said:

“No more now, for I recognize my defeat.”

Esplandian held back the blow and said:

“Then say who ye are.”

The knight told him:

“Have the doctor Elisabad come, who shall be very necessary.”

Then the sword fell from his hand and he sat on the ground, for he could no longer stay on his feet. Esplandian called the doctor, telling him the knight wanted him. The doctor arrived, dismounted his palfrey, and went to him. He had lost consciousness due to all the blood he had lost from the great blows he had received. When Elisabad took off his helmet, he recognized him as Amadis, which astonished him. When Esplandian saw him, he threw his sword on the ground and, taking off his helmet, began to weep very bitterly and say:

“Oh misfortune and misery! What have I done?”

And he fell senseless next to his father. When the doctor saw the father and son, he began to curse repeatedly because great misfortune had brought him to such a state that before himself he saw the two people whom he most loved in the world at the point of death. And as he saw that he could do little for them there, he called for Sargil to come and help him. And as no one in the entire world was his equal in his profession, he provided medical care to Amadis’s injuries as no one else knew how to do.[...]

And so as ye have heard it came to pass the cruel and harsh battle between Amadis and his son, of which some say that in it Amadis died of those injuries, and others that he died in the first encounter with the lance, which passed through him front to back; when Oriana learned of it, threw herself from a window. But it was not so, for the great doctor Elisabad cured his wounds. And soon after, King Lisuarte and his wife the Queen renounced their kingdoms and retired, as shall be told further on. And Amadis and Oriana were very prosperous monarchs of Great Britain and Gaul, and they had another son, who was named Perion, and a daughter who was no less beautiful than her mother, and who married a son of Arquisil, the Emperor of Rome.

But the death that overcame Amadis was none other than this: his great deeds were forgotten almost as if they were buried beneath the earth, while those of his son flourished which such fame and such glory that they seemed to reach the height of the clouds.

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Chapter 95

About the letter that Princess Oriana sent from Firm Island to her mother Queen Brisena. 

[John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, receiving a letter from the King of Portugal, in the Chronique d'Angleterre (Volume III), late 15th century. Image from the British Library.]
 
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The letter said:

“Mighty Queen Brisena, my lady and mother: I, the sad and ill-fated Oriana, your daughter, with great humility send kisses for your hands and feet. My good lady, ye already know I do not deserve my adverse fortune, which has wished to be more contrary and a greater enemy to me than to any other woman who has lived or who will live. It gave rise to my being exiled from your presence and realms with such cruelty by my lord and father the King, and to so much pain and anguish in my sad heart that I myself am surprised that I can continue even one more day with life. But my great misfortune was not content with merely that, seeing how I would rather die than contradict the orders of my father the King with the obedience that rightly or wrongly I owe him; it gave me a redress much more cruel for me than the suffering and sad life that exile held for me, because if I had died, only a sad damsel would have died, for whom considering her immense ill fortune it would have been much more appropriate and pleasing to die rather than live.

“But from what awaits now, my lady, if after God, ye in your pity for me do not find a solution, not only I but many other blameless people will lose their lives with very cruel and bitter deaths. The reason for that is because either by permission of God, Who knows the great injustice and injury that was being done to me, or because my fate willed it, as I have said, the knights who were at Firm Island destroyed the Roman fleet, leaving many dead and taking many prisoners among those who wished to defend themselves, and I was brought with all my ladies and damsels to that island, where I am treated and held with as much reverence and decency as if I were in your royal household.

“And because they shall send some knights to my lord and father the King with the intention of making peace, if peace may be achieved in some way in what regards me, I decided that before they arrive I would write this letter, by which and by the many tears that with it fell or without it would have fallen, I entreat that with your great nobility and virtue ye beg my father the King to have some pity and compassion for me, giving more importance to the service of God than to the perishable glory and honor of this world, and that he not seek to put at risk the high estate that fickle fortune has until now with great favor given him, since better than anyone else he knows the great violence and injustice that he did to me and that I did not deserve.”

When she finished reading the letter, the Queen ordered Durin not to leave without her answer because first she needed to speak with the King. He said he would do as he was ordered and told her how all the princesses and ladies and damsels who were with his lady sent their greetings. The Queen sent word to the King asking him to meet her alone in his chamber because she wished to speak to him, and he did so. And when they were alone, the Queen knelt before him weeping, and told him:

“My lord, read this letter that your daughter Oriana has sent me, and have pity for her and for me.”

The King raised her up by the hands, took the letter, and read it, and to give her some contentment he told her:

“Queen, since Oriana writes here that those knights are being sent to me, may it be such a mission that with it the dishonor received may receive amends. And if that is not the case, ye should hold it better for my honor to be maintained despite danger than for my reputation be diminished without danger.”

He begged her to leave it all to God, in Whose hands and will it was, and to cease suffering; and with that he returned to his hall. The Queen had Durin called and told him:

“My friend Durin, go tell my daughter that until, as she wrote in her letter, those knights arrive and their mission be known, her father the King will not know how to respond or decide to act. When they come, if a path to concordance can be found, I will use all my power to achieve it. And send my best greetings to her and to all her ladies and damsels, and tell her that now is the time to show who she is: first of all, to guard her reputation, for without it nothing would remain for her of value and esteem; and second, to suffer this anguish and sorrow as befits a person of high estate, for just as God gives people such estate and great realms, He also gives them anguish and concerns very different in size from those of much lower people. And tell her that I entrust her to God to protect her and bring her back to me with great honor.”

Durin kissed her hands and left on his journey, of which nothing more shall be said because he brought no agreement and with the Queen’s response Oriana was left without the hope she had sought.

The story says that one day King Lisuarte, after hearing Mass, was in his palace with his finest men about to eat, when a squire came through the door and gave him a letter, which was his accreditation. The King took it, read it, and told him:

“My friend, what do ye wish, and who sent you?”

“My lord,” he said, “I was sent by Sir Cuadragante of Ireland and I come to you with a message from him.”

“Then say what ye wish,” the King said, “and I will gladly listen.”

The squire said:

“My lord Sir Cuadragante of Ireland and Brian of Monjaste have arrived from Firm Island to your kingdom on orders of Amadis of Gaul and the princes and knights who are with him. Before they enter your court, they wish to know if they can come safely before you and tell you their mission, and if not, they will tell it publicly in many places and return from where they came. For that reason, my lord, tell me what ye wish so that they shall hasten.”

When the King heard this, he did not say anything for a while, which every great lord ought to do to give himself time to think. He considered that missions from the enemy always bring with them more advantage than disadvantage because if what they bring can be put into use, it should be taken, and if otherwise, they are given a serious warning; he also considered the fact it would seem hardly tolerant to refuse to hear them, so he said to the squire:

“My friend, tell these knights that they shall have complete security while they are in my kingdom and they may come to my court, and I will listen to everything that they wish to tell me.”

With that, the messenger left. And when Sir Cuadragante and Brian of Monjaste learned his answer, they left their ship wearing very fine armor, and in three days they arrived at the town, when the King had just eaten. And as they went through the streets everyone stared at them, since they knew very well who they were, and some of them said to each other:

“Accursed be these traitors who with their vile conniving made our lord the King lose so many knights and other men of great value!”

But others, who knew more about what had happened, placed all the blame on the King, who had chosen to let his discretion be overruled by scandalous and envious men. And so they passed through the town until they reached the palace, dismounted in a courtyard, went to where the King was, and greeted him with great courtesy. He received them with good will. Sir Cuadragante told him:

“Great princes ought to hear the messengers who come before them having set aside all emotion, because if the message they carry brings contentment, they should be very happy to have received it graciously, and if it is to the contrary, they should answer with strong wills and firm hearts rather than with disagreeable words. And the messengers must honestly say what they have been charged without fear of any danger it might bring them.

“The reason we have come to you, King Lisuarte, is on the order and request of Amadis of Gaul and the other great knights who are at Firm Island. They would have you know that when they were traveling through foreign lands seeking dangerous adventures, accepting those which were just and punishing those who were in the wrong as the greatness of their virtuous and mighty hearts required, they learned from many people how, following your own whims rather than justice and reason, paying no attention to the admonishments of the great men in your kingdom nor of the many tears of its humbler people, not thinking of what in good conscience ye owe to God, ye wished to disinherit your daughter Oriana, successor to your kingdoms after your life, and to give them to your younger daughter. Despite her great weeping and deep sorrow, without any pity ye delivered her to the Romans to give her as wife to the Emperor of Rome against all justice and against her will, and against the will of all your subjects.

“And as such things come to the attention of God, He may be the one to offer a solution, and He chose to permit that when we learned of it, we supplied the remedy to that thing which had been done with such injury against His service. And so it was done not with the will or intention to cause injury but instead to do away with such great violence and disorder, which we could not ignore without causing ourselves great shame. After we defeated the Romans who were carrying her away, we took her and brought her with great respect and reverence as is proper for her noble and royal estate to Firm Island, where we have left her accompanied by many noble ladies and great knights.

“And because our intention was none other than to serve God and maintain justice, those lords and great knights have decided to ask you if ye would wish to provide some means so that this noble Princess can be returned to your love and that those great affronts be ceased as the truth and good conscience require. And if by chance ye, King, hold some rancor against us, let that be for another time, because it would not be right for what is certain concerning the Princess to be mixed with what is dubious about ourselves.”

After Sir Cuadragante had finished speaking, the King responded in this fashion:

“Knights, because excessive words and untempered responses do not give rise to virtue nor make weak hearts strong, my response will be brief and with more patience than your request deserves. Ye have carried out that which according to your judgment satisfies your honor with greater arrogance than courage, because it should not be recounted as a great glory to attack and defeat those who were peacefully and unsuspectingly traveling, without recalling how I, as God’s lieutenant, to Him and to no one else am obliged to give account for what I might do. And when amends for this are made, then what ye ask for may be discussed, and since anything else would bring no results, no reply is needed.”

Sir Brian of Monjaste told him:

“Now that we know your will and the accounting that we owe to God about what happened, nothing more remains for us than for each of the sides to put into action that which most fulfills their honor.”

And having been dismissed by the King, they mounted their horses and left the palace, and Sir Grumedan rode with them, for the King had ordered him to guard them until they left the town. When Sir Grumedan found himself with them outside of the presence of the King, he told them:

“My good lords, what I see gives me great sorrow because, knowing the great discretion of the King and the nobility of Amadis and of all of you, and of the great friends that ye have here, I had great hope that these troubles would find a good solution. Now it seems that has all gone completely contrary, and now more than ever I see danger until our Lord is pleased to put these matters into the order that they require. But meanwhile I ask ye to tell me how Amadis found himself at Firm Island at this time, since no news had been heard of him for a long time although many of his friends have looked for him with great effort through foreign lands.”

Sir Brian of Monjaste told him:

“My Lord Sir Grumedan, regarding what ye say about us and the King, whom ye consider so wise, it will not be necessary to give you a very long account, since it is well known the great violence that the King did to his daughter, to which justice obliged us to respond, and certainly, leaving aside both his and our anger, we would have been pleased if some means could have been found regarding him and the Princess Oriana. But since he is pleased to proceed against us with more rigor than with just cause, he will see that the result of it will be much more demanding than it may seem at first. And, my good lord, regarding what ye ask about Amadis, know that we had no news about him until he left this court, where calling himself the Greek Knight, he brought that lady for whom the Romans were defeated and the crown from the damsels was won.”

“Holy Mary save me!” Sir Grumedan said. “What did ye say? Is it true that the Greek Knight who came here was Amadis?”

“Without any doubt he was,” Sir Brian said.

“Now I tell you,” Sir Grumedan said, “that I must be a man of poor discernment, since I should have thought that a knight who did such rare feats at arms greater than all the others, could have been no one other than him. Now I ask you: those two knights that he left here to help me in the battle that I had to fight with the Romans, who were they?”

Sir Brian told him, laughing:

“Your friends Angriote d’Estravaus and Sir Bruneo of Bonamar.”

“Merciful God,” he said, “if I had known that, I would not have feared that battle as much as I did, and now I realize that I won little esteem in it, since with that kind of help it would not have been hard to defeat twice as many knights as there were.”

“May God help me,” said Sir Cuadragante, “I believe that if it had been judged by your courageous heart, ye would have been sufficient for them alone.”

“My lord,” Sir Grumedan said, “whatever I may be, I have great love and goodwill for all of you, and may God be pleased to give some good ending to the concern that has brought ye here.”

And so they spoke until they had left the town and traveled some distance beyond it. And as Sir Grumedan was about to bid them farewell, they saw the handsome young nobleman Esplandian coming from a hunt, with Anbor, the son of Angriote d’Estravaus. Esplandian was carrying a hawk and riding on a beautiful palfrey with the richly decorated saddle and reins that Queen Brisena had given him, and wearing fine clothing. Due both to his extremely pleasing appearance and to what Urganda the Unrecognized had written to King Lisuarte, as the third part of this story has recounted more extensively, the King and Queen had ordered him to be provided with everything he might need. As he passed them, he greeted them, and they greeted him in return. Brian of Monjaste asked Sir Grumedan who that handsome young nobleman was, and he told him:

“My lord, he is called Esplandian, and he was raised in the most amazing fashion, and Urganda wrote to the King about the great deeds he will do in the future.”

“So help me God,” Sir Cuadragante said, “we at Firm Island have heard a lot said about that young man, and it would be good if ye were to call him here and we could hear what he says.”

So Sir Grumedan called to him, since he had already ridden past, and said:

“Good noble youth, come back, so ye may send greetings to the Greek Knight, who treated you so courteously by giving you the Romans that he was about to kill.”

Then Esplandian turned around and said:

“My lord, I would be very happy to know where I could send greetings to that very noble knight, as ye ask and as he deserves.”

“These knights are going to where he is,” Sir Grumedan said.

“He tells you the truth,” Sir Cuadragante said, “and we will take your message to he who was called the Greek Knight and is now called Amadis.”

When Esplandian heard that, he said:

“What, my lords! Is this the Amadis of whom everyone has spoken so highly and recounted his great deeds as a knight, and who is so outstanding among us all?”

“Yes, without a doubt,” Sir Cuadragante said, “he is.”

“I tell you truly,” Esplandian said, “his great courage ought to be highly considered, since he is so famous among so many good knights. And the envy of so many for him gives few the daring to be his equal, since he ought to be praised not less for his great self-control and courtesy. Although I encountered him when he had great ire and rage, he did not fail to do me great honor in spite of that, since he gave me those knights whom he had defeated and from whom he had received great affronts, for which I offer him sincere thanks. And may it please God to bring me a time when I can repay him equally to the great honor that he did me.”

The knights were very happy with what he had said, and they considered his great handsomeness a rare thing along with what Sir Grumedan had told them about him, and above all the grace and discretion with which he had spoken to them. Sir Brian of Monjaste told him:

“Good youth, may God make you as fine a man as he has made you handsome.”

“Thank you very much for what ye have said to me,” he said. “But if God has something good awaiting me, I would wish to have it now to be able to serve my lord the King, who has such a great need for the service of his subjects. And my lords, may ye be commended to God, for I have been gone quite a while outside of town.”

And Sir Grumedan said farewell to them and left with him, and they went to board their ship to return to Firm Island. But now the story shall cease to speak about them, and will return to King Lisuarte.

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Chapter 79 [part 2 of 2]

[How the Greek Knight defeated two more Romans but was persuaded by Esplandian to let them live.] 

[A picota, a column used in Spanish civil law since medieval times. This one is located in the town of Presencio near Burgos. Photo by Sanbec.]
 
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The Greek Knight spurred his horse and found it strong and rested, since it had done little labor that day. He hung his shield from his neck and selected a lance with a very handsome pennant. He called the damsel who had brought Grasinda’s message and told her:

“My friend, go to the King and tell him that he knows the agreement: if after the first battle I was in a condition to fight, I would hold the field against two knights who came together against me. And now it falls upon me to comply with that madness, and I ask him the favor of not ordering any of his knights to fight with me, because they are such that they would gain no honor in defeating me. Let me fight the Romans, who began this, and it shall be seen if I, being Greek, fear them.”

The damsel went to the King and told him in French what the Greek Knight had ordered her to say.

“Damsel,” the King said, “I would not be pleased if anyone from my court or reign were to fight him. He has earned his honor today and I esteem him greatly, and if he were to be pleased to remain with me, I would make it worthwhile for him. And I forbid those of my domain and lands to trouble him. Now I must leave, for I have things to do, but the Romans, who are on their own, may do what they please.”

He said this because he had a lot to prepare for his daughter Oriana’s departure and because at that time he had none of his most esteemed knights in the court, for they had left to avoid seeing the cruelty and madness of forcing his daughter to leave. He only had Guilan the Pensive in his court, who was ill, and Cendil of Ganota, whose legs had been pierced by an arrow released by Brondajel de Roca, one of the Romans, when the King had been pursuing a deer during a hunt in the mountains.

After the damsel heard this, she told him:

“My lord, many thanks for your kindness ye have done for the Greek Knight, but know for certain that if he had wished to remain in Greece with the Emperor, he would have fulfilled what was asked of him there, but his will is only to travel freely through the world rescuing ladies and damsels from the injuries they receive, and many others who ask him for justice. Of these things and more he has done so much that ye shall soon hear of them, and then ye, my lord, and others who do not know him now will come to hold and esteem him.”

“So help you God, damsel, tell me whose orders he follows.”

“Truly, my lord, I do not know, but if his mighty heart is subjected by something, I think it can only be some lady whom he loves to extreme and who is in your realm. May ye be commended to God, and I shall return to him with this response. Whoever wishes to meet him in that field shall find him there until midday.”

After hearing the response, the Greek Knight rode slowly toward Grasinda, and he gave one of the majordomo’s sons his shield and another one his lance, but he did not take off his helmet so he would not be recognized. He told the one who took his shield to put it on the column and to say that the Greek Knight ordered it put there as a challenge to the knights of Rome in order to fulfill what he had promised. He took Grasinda’s horse by the reins to converse with her.

Among the Romans was a knight who was held in great esteem at arms, second only to Salustanquidio, named Maganil, and it was truly believed that two knights from Greece would not hold the field against him. He brought two brothers with him, both good knights. When the shield had been placed on the column, the Romans looked to this Maganil as the one from whom they expected honor and vengeance, but he told them:

“My friends, do not look at me with expectation, because I can do nothing in this matter. I have promised Prince Salustanquidio that if he left this fight in a such a way that he could not fight, I would take upon myself his battle with Sir Grumedan with my brothers. And if he and his companions do not dare fight with us because I will be doing it for Salustanquidio, then I shall avenge him.”

As they were speaking, they saw two Roman knights of their company bearing fine arms and riding beautiful horses. One was named Gradamor and the other Lasanor, and they were brothers, Brondajel de Roca’s nephews, sons of his sister, who was as brave and arrogant as her husband and her sons. They were greatly feared by other Romans because of that and because they were Brondajel’s nephews, who was the Emperor’s majordomo.

When they arrived at the field, as ye hear, without speaking or bowing to the King they went to the column. One of them took the Greek Knight’s shield and gave it such a blow against the column that it was smashed to pieces, and he shouted:

“May he be damned who consents to have a Greek’s shield be placed as a challenge to Romans!”

The Greek Knight, when he saw his shield broken, was so angered that his heart burned with rage, and he left Grasinda, took his lance from the squire holding it, and did not bother with a shield, although Angriote told him he could take his. He charged at the Romans, and they at him. He struck his lance against the one who had broken his shield and hit him so hard that the Roman was thrown from his saddle, and when he fell, his helmet flew from his head. He he was so stunned he could not get up, and everyone thought he was dead.

Having lost his lance, the Greek Knight put his hand on his sword and turned to Lasanor, who was attacking him with great blows. The Greek struck him on his shoulder and cut his armor and flesh down to the bones and made him drop his lance. He gave him another blow on the top of his helmet and made him lose his stirrups and grasp the neck of his horse. Seeing him thus, he quickly switched the sword to his left hand, grabbed the other knight’s shield and pulled it from his neck, and the knight fell to the ground, but he got up quickly in fear of death.

He saw his brother, now on foot, sword in hand, and ran to join him. The Greek Knight, fearing they would kill his horse, dismounted and held up the shield he had taken, and with his sword he headed toward them and attacked so fiercely that the brothers could not hold their positions in the field. Those who watched were startled to see him so valiant, esteeming them so little.

Thus he made the Romans know how skilled he was and how weak they were. He gave Lasanor a blow on the left leg so it could no longer sustain him, and he begged for mercy, but the Greek Knight acted as if he did not understand him and kicked him in the chest and threw him flat onto the field.

Then he turned to the other knight, the one who had smashed his shield, but that Roman did not dare to face him, fearing that death was coming for him, and ran toward the King, begging for mercy and shouting to not let him be killed. But the Greek Knight followed him and stopped in front of him and made him turn back toward the column, and when he reached it, Gradamor ran behind it to protect himself from the blows. The Greek Knight, who was irate, tried to attack him, and at times his sword struck the column, which was of very hard stone, and when he did, sparks of flame flew from his sword.

And when he saw the other knight too tired to move, he took him in his arms and squeezed so tightly that all his strength left him, then he let the knight fall onto the field.

Then he took the shield and struck him such a blow on his head that the shield was smashed to pieces and the Roman lay as if dead. He put his sword point in his face and pushed a bit, and Gradamor shuddered and hid his face in great fear and put his arms around his head, terrified by the sword, and shouted:

“Oh, good Greek, my lord! Do not kill me. Order me to do anything!”

But the Greek Knight acted as if he did not understand him, and when he saw that he was conscious, he grabbed him by the hand, struck him on the head with the flat of his sword to force him to stand up, and motioned for him to climb onto the column. But Gradamor was so weak he could not, so the Greek helped him, and when he was standing still on it, the Greek pushed him so hard that he fell. And as he was large and heavy and fell from a great height, he landed and lay so still that he did not move, and the Greek put the pieces of the shield on his chest, went to Lasanor, grabbed his leg, and dragged him to lie next to his brother.

Everyone realized that he meant to behead them, and Sir Grumedan, who was watching with pleasure, said:

“It seems to me that the Greek has made a fine vengeance for his shield.”

The childe Esplandian, who was watching the battle, realized that the Greek Knight meant to kill the two knights whom he had defeated, and, feeling sorry for them, spurred his palfrey, called to his companion Ambor, and rode toward the knights. When the Greek Knight saw them coming, he waited to see what they wanted, and when they neared, Esplandian seemed to be the most handsome noble childe of all those he had seen in his life.

Esplandian came to him and said:

“My lord, since these knights are in such a state that they cannot defend themselves, and since  your skill is now well known, free them for me, and all honor shall remain with you.”

He gestured that he did not understand. Esplandian began to shout to Count Argamon to come there because the Greek Knight did not understand his language. The Count came immediately, and the Greek asked what the childe had said, and he told him:

“He asks you to give these knights to him.”

“I would savor killing them,” he said, “but I shall grant them to him.” And he told the Count, “My lord, who is this handsome childe, and whose son is he?”

The Count told him:

“Truly, knight, this I cannot tell you for I do not know, and no one in this land knows.” And he told him how the childe had been raised.

“I had heard speak of this childe in Romania, and I think they called him Esplandian. They told me he had some letters on his chest.”

“That is true,” the Count said, “and ye can see them if ye wish.”

“I would appreciate that, and would thank him for showing me them, for it is one thing to hear an amazing thing and another to see it.”

The Count asked Esplandian to show him the letters. He came closer, and he wore a doublet, a French hood embroidered with gold lions, and a narrow gold belt, and his tunic and hood were fastened with gold buttons. He loosened some buttons and showed the letters to the Greek Knight, who was amazed and considered them the most amazing thing he had ever heard. The white letters said Esplandian, but the red letters he could not read, although they were well defined and formed. He said:

“Handsome childe, may God bless you.”

Then he bid farewell to the Count and mounted his horse, which his squire had brought him, rode to Grasinda, and told her:

“My lady, ye must be annoyed by having to wait over my mad behavior, but blame the arrogance of the Romans, who caused it.”

“May God help me,” she said, “in fact, your good fortune makes me joyful.”

Then they rode toward the ships, Grasinda with great glory and happiness in her soul, and no less so the Greek Knight for having stopped the Romans that way, and he gave many thanks to God. When they arrived at the ships, they had the tents put on board, and they sailed off toward Firm Island.

But I tell you that Angriote d’Estravaus and Sir Bruneo remained at the orders of the Greek Knight in a galley so that they could secretly help Sir Grumedan in the battle he had pledged to fight with the Romans, and he asked them that when that confrontation was concluded, however God willed it, they should try to learn some news about Oriana and immediately go to Firm Island.

And the good childe Esplandian was sincerely thanked by the Roman knights for what he did, saving them from death, to which they had come so close.

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Chapter 78 [part 2 of 3]

[How Grasinda’s challenge was delivered to the court of King Lisuarte, and how it was received.] 

[A corner of the Archbishop’s Palace in Alcalá de Henares, Spain. The oldest parts date back to the 13th century. The statue is of Catalina of Aragón, Princess of Castile and Queen of England, who was born in that palace in 1485. Christopher Columbus had his first meeting with Queen Isabel there in 1486. Photo by Sue Burke.]
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The Greek Knight and Grasinda and their company hastened to where King Lisuarte was in his town of Tagades. Many grandees and other noblemen of his kingdom were with him, whom he had called to advise him about what to do regarding the marriage of his daughter Oriana, whom the Emperor of Rome had sent an urgent request to wed. They all told him not to do it, for it would be an error against God to take the reign from his daughter and send her to be subject of a foreign man with a changeable and inconstant moods. While he might deeply desire her now, soon he might chase after someone else, for that truly was the way of fickle men.

But the King, annoyed by this advice, remained firm in his resolve. God permitted this because Amadis had secured his kingdom and his life so often with notable services and given the King greater fame and height than any other king of that time, yet from that Amadis received such undeservedly poor thanks. Now the King’s grandeur and honor would be discredited and humbled, as the fourth book shall tell farther on.

Lisuarte would not change his mind, and his stubbornness and rigidity was made clear to everyone. Yet he thought it good to summon his uncle, who was very old and suffering from gout. Although the man did not wish to leave his home because he understood the error of the King’s plans and disagreed with him entirely, when he saw the King’s orders, he immediately left for the court. When he arrived at the palace, the King came out to receive him, took him by the hand to his dias, had him sit next to him, and said:

“Good uncle, I had you called along with these noblemen that ye see here to provide counsel for what I ought to do about the marriage of my daughter to the Emperor of Rome, and I ask you to tell me how it seems to you, and I ask the same of them.”

“My lord,” he said, “it is a very serious thing to provide advice as ye have ordered us because there are two issues here: one, a wish to fulfill your will, and the other, to disagree with it. If we disagree, ye shall become angry as most kings do, who in their great power wish to content and satisfy themselves in their opinions and not be berated and opposed by those whom they command. However, if we agree, ye put us all in a fine condition with God and His Justice and with the world, due to the great disloyalty and treachery that we would commit, since your daughter, being the heir to these reigns after your days, would lose them. She has the same right and even more to them than ye had to be King after your brother.

“Then look well, my lord, at how ye would have felt when your brother died if what ye ought to have possessed had been taken from you and given to someone it did not belong to. And if by chance your intention is that by making Oriana an empress and Leonoreta the lady of these reigns, both would be very grand and honored ladies, if ye look at it with the utmost rationality, it could turn out to be the contrary. Ye do not have the right to change the order of your ancestors who were lords of this realm and take one away or add another.

“If the Emperor were to have your daughter as his wife, he himself would have the right to inherit them through her. If ye do not agree, he is so powerful he could take them without much effort, and so both your daughters would be disinherited, and this land, so honored and outstanding in the world, would be subject to the Empire of Rome without Oriana having a thing to say except for what the Emperor may permit, so ye would leave her without a realm. And for that reason, my lord, if God wills, I wish to be excused from giving advice to someone who much better than I knows what ought to be done.”

“Uncle,” the King said, “I understand well what ye have told me, but I would rather that ye and those here were to praise me for what I have said and promised to the Romans, since by no means may I go back on my word.”

“Do not hesitate because of that,” the Count said, “for everything consists in how it ought to be done and made certain. In that, ye can protect yourself from shame and keep your word, and yet ye may decline or promote what would be best for you.”

“Ye speak well,” the King said, “and for now it shall not be spoken of more.”

Thus he ended that meeting, and everyone went to their lodgings.

In the ships where the beautiful Grasinda traveled with the Greek Knight, Sir Bruneo of Bonamar, and Angriote d’Estravaus, voyaging in the sea as ye have heard, one morning the sailors spied the mountain named Tagades, where the town called by the same name and King Lisuarte were at the foot of the mountain. They went to the lady, who was speaking with the Greek Knight and his companions, and they said:

“Lords, give us a reward for good news, for if the wind does not change, within an hour ye shall be docked in the port of Tagades, where ye wished to go.”

Grasinda was very joyful, as was the Greek Knight, and they all went to the railing of the ship and happily saw the land they had so much wished to see. Grasinda gave thanks to God for having guided her there, and with great humility she asked Him to direct her affairs so she could leave there with the honors she wished.

But I tell you that the eyes of the Greek Knight took great comfort in seeing that land where his lady was, from whom for such a long time he had been away. He could not hold back his tears, and he turned his face away from Grasinda so she would not see them and wiped them away as secretly as he could.

Putting on a happy face, he turned back to her and said:

“My lady, have hope that ye shall leave this land with the honor ye desire. Your beauty gives me great courage, and I feel certain that right and reason are on my side, and as God is the judge, He shall wish to have the honor be yours.”

Grasinda, who had felt afraid, as one whose moment was arriving, took courage and said:

“Greek Knight, my lord, I have much more faith in your good fortune and blessings than in the beauty of which you speak. Having that in your mind, ye shall cause your praise to be increased in this as in all other great deeds ye have brought to completion, and ye shall make me the happiest of all women alive.”

“Let us leave that to God,” he said, “and let us speak about how it may best be done.”

Then they called Grinfesta, a damsel who was the daughter of the majordomo and was good and wise and knew a good deal of French, which King Lisuarte spoke. They gave her a letter in Latin that had been written earlier to give to King Lisuarte and Queen Brisena. They ordered her not to speak or answer except in French while she was with them, and when she had the answer, to return to the ships.

The damsel took the letter and went to her lady’s chamber and dressed in fine and beautiful clothing, and as she was in the flower of youth and extremely beautiful, she seemed quite lovely to all who saw her. Her father, the majordomo, ordered palfreys and horses to be taken out of the ship and given fine saddles and reins, and the sailors put a boat into the water and took the damsel and her brothers, both knights, and two squires who carried their arms, and quickly brought them to land outside the town.

The Greek Knight ordered another boat put in the water to carry Lasindo, Sir Bruneo’s squire, and told him to go by another route to the town and ask there for news about his lord, saying that he had been ill when Sir Bruneo went to seek Amadis. With this excuse, he should try hard to find out what answer they gave to the damsel, and in any case, to return in the morning in a boat that would be waiting for him. Lasindo left to fulfill his orders.

And I tell you that when the damsel entered the town, everyone found pleasure in looking at her and said that she came marvelously attired and well-accompanied by those two knights. She asked where the King’s palaces were.

It happened that the handsome young childe Esplandian and Ambor of Gadel, son of Angriote, who by orders of the Queen were to serve her as long as the people from foreign lands were there, were both on their way to hunt with goshawks, and they met the damsel. When they learned that she was asking about the King’s palace, Esplandian gave the goshawk to Sargil and went to her, seeing that she wore foreign clothing, and spoke to her in French:

“My good lady, I shall guide you, if ye please, and I shall identify the King to you, if ye do not recognize him.”

The damsel looked at him carefully and was impressed by how handsome and charming he was, so much so that it seemed to her she had never in her life seen a man or woman so attractive, and she said:

“Gentle childe, may God make you as blessed as handsome. I thank you very much for what ye say to me, and I thank God for meeting such a good guide.”

Then her brother gave the reins of her horse to the childe, who took them and led them to the palace. At that moment, the King was in the courtyard under some finely worked porticos, and with him were many noblemen and all the men from Rome. He had just promised them they could take his daughter Oriana to the Emperor, and they had promised to accept her as their lady.

The damsel, who had dismounted, entered the gate with Esplandian leading her by the hand, followed by her brothers, and when they arrived at the King, she knelt and wished to kiss his hands, but he would not give them to her because he only did that as a sign of granting a great favor to a damsel.

She gave him the letter and told him:

“My lord, it is necessary for the Queen and all her damsels to hear it, and if by chance the damsels become angered when they hear what it says, they may wish to have a fine knight represent them, as my lady does, and by whose orders I come here.”

The King ordered King Arban of North Wales and his uncle, Count Argamon, to go to the Queen and bring with her all the princesses and damsels that were in her palace. This was done, and the Queen came with such a company of ladies, all of such beauty and fine apparel as would be hard do find in all the world, and she sat near the King, with the princesses and all the other women around her.

The damsel bearing the message kissed the Queen’s hands and told her:

“My lady, if what I seek seems strange, to not be surprised, since for such things God made your court excel over all others in the world, and the excellence of yourself and the King are the cause of this. Since only here can be found the remedy that in all other places is lacking, hear this letter and grant what is asked in it, and a beautiful lady shall come to this court with the valiant Greek Knight who protects her.”

The King ordered her to read it, and it said:

“To the noble and honorable Lisuarte, King of Great Britain: I, Grasinda, the most beautiful lady of all the damsels of Romania, send my greetings and would have ye know, my lord, why I have come to your land under the protection of the Greek Knight. The reason for it is that I was judged to be the most beautiful lady of all Romania, and to follow that glory which made my heart so delighted, I wish to be judged more beautiful than any of the many damsels in your court, because having defeated them first in one place and then in another, I shall have achieved the joy that I desire so much.

“And if there be a knight who wishes to contradict that on behalf of one of your damsels, he shall have to do two things: first, fight with the Greek Knight, and second, to place in the field of battle a fine crown, such as I bring, for the winner to take as a sign of having won that victory and give to she for whom he fought.

“And, most high King, if what I propose pleases you, order safe passage for all my company and the Greek Knight, who shall only fight those who wish to fight him. And if a knight fighting for the damsels is defeated, let there be a second fight, and a third, and he in his great skills shall hold the field against all.”

After the letter was read, the King said:

“May God save me, I believe that the lady is very beautiful and the knight esteems himself quite a bit at arms, but however that may be, they have embarked on a great fantasy that could have been avoided without harm to them. But people’s will comes in many ways, and people put their hearts in them and do not consider the fate that may result. And ye, damsel, may go, and I shall order the safe passage proclaimed as your lady asks, so she may come when she pleases. And if no one is found who contradicts her quest, her will shall be satisfied.”

“My lord,” she said, “your reply is as we had hoped, and she can come to your court without complaint. And since the Greek Knight is coming with two companions in search of jousts, they require the same safe conduct.”

“So be it,” the King said.

“In the name of God,” the damsel said, “then tomorrow ye shall see them in your court. And ye, my lady,” she said to the Queen, “order your damsels to be where they can see how their honor is increased or decreased by their protectors, as my lady shall do. And may ye be commended to God.”

Then she bid them farewell and they went to the ships, where they were received with great pleasure. She told them how her message had been delivered, and they immediately ordered their arms and horses be taken ashore, where they put up a fine tent and two smaller tents on the seashore, but that night only the majordomo and some servants came to the shore to protect them.

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The Exploits of Esplandian

Montalvo hoped to start an epic series, and he succeeded. 

“The exploits of the virtuous knight Esplandian, son of Amadis of Gaul”

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The story of Amadis of Gaul dates back to the 1300s. The oldest version we have was printed in 1508, and is divided into four books, but originally there had been only three. The author, Garcí Rodríguez de Montalvo, explains the reason for the addition in the prologue:

“I corrected these three books of Amadis, such as they could be read, due to poor writers or very corrupt and dissolute scribes, and I translated and emended a fourth book and The Exploits of Esplandian, a sequel, which up until now no one can recall seeing. By great good fortune, it had been discovered in a stone tomb beneath a hermitage near Constantinople and was brought by a Hungarian merchant to eastern Spain in such ancient script and old parchment that it could only be read with much difficulty by those who knew the language.”

Of course, that’s not quite true. The third book ended tragically, which satisfied Medieval tastes, but Montalvo gave it a more optimistic Renaissance outcome, which allowed him to write a fourth book. He also added “doctrinal improvements” to Amadis of Gaul that you may have already noticed, adding a kind of piety more in keeping with Renaissance thought.

The “fifth book,” The Exploits of Esplandian (Las Sergas de Esplandián), opens:

“Here begins the branch from the four books about Amadis, called Las Sergas de Esplandían, which was written in Greek by the hand of the great master Elisabat, who saw and heard of many of his great deeds... and was translated into many languages for the provinces and kingdoms where... having read of the great things of his father, they were eager to see those of his son.”

The book ends inviting other writers to continue the stories, and that came to pass. Las Sergas de Esplandián enjoyed ten edition between 1510 and 1588, and during that century, eight more books were written about Amadis’s family in Spain, and those, too, achieved great success over the decades. (The exception is Book VIII, Lisuarte de Grecia by Juan Díaz, published in 1526, which was overly pious and boring, so it sold badly.) If that were not enough, another 75 novels of chivalry about other knights were published in Spain in the 1500s.

In addition to translations of the Amadis books into several languages, the Amadis family story was extended in Italy, Germany, and France with many additional sequels. In the end, the family tree grew into a sequoia. You can see a pdf of the Amadis clan including the Spanish and Italian branches, published by the Biblioteca Nacional de España, here (scroll down).

Unlike his father, Esplandian fights infidels in war, not individual fellow Christian knights. In much of the book, the son leads a crusade to protect Constantinople from the siege of King Armato of Persia and his Islamic allies. (Constantinople fell in 1453 to the Ottomans, and Sergas was published in 1510, so that was either wishful thinking or alternate history.)

Esplandian also fought for different reasons – not for earthly fame and honor, as he himself explains in Chapter II:

“...if the great things that my father did in this world with so much effort and such a courageous heart and no small danger to his life, so exceedingly well and amid such good men, had been employed in service to the Lord, there could never have been any man equal or comparable to his virtue and valor. But instead he has eagerly sought the things of this mortal world rather than those that shall last forever.... So may it please the Lord on High that, while I resemble my father somewhat, if I exceed his skill, it may be by aiming more to save my soul than to honor my body, and by avoiding everything that may offend Him.”

Montalvo, however, sought worldly fame, “wishing that some shadow of remembrance remain of me,” and shamelessly advertised the sequel to Amadis of Gaul within its “corrected” text. That’s one of the things we can remember him for.

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Chapter 74 [part 2 of 3]

[How the Knight of the Green Sword was honored; and his jests with the Emperor and Princess Leonorina.]

[12th century mosaic from the upper gallery of the Hagia Sophia, Constantinople. Emperor John II (1118–1143) is shown on the left, with the Virgin Mary and infant Jesus in the center, and Empress Irene on the right.]
 
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The next morning the Knight of the Green Sword arose and dressed himself in luxurious and handsome clothing, which he tended to wear. The Marquis and Gastiles and the doctor Elisabad were with him, and together they went to hear Mass with the Emperor in his chapel, where he awaited them, and then they went to see the Empress. And as they did, they met many ladies and damsels finely dressed in beautiful clothes who made way as they passed and received them well.

The palace was so richly and well decorated that except for the forbidden room at Firm Island, the Knight of the Green Sword had seen nothing like it. His eyes grew sated by the many beautiful women and the other amazing things he saw. When he approached the Empress, who was sitting on her estrado, he knelt before her with great humility and said:

“My lady, I thank God for bringing me where I may see you in your grand sovereignty and in your worth over all other ladies of the world, and your home accompanied and adorned by many ladies and damsels of high estate. And I thank you, my lady, for wishing to see me. I beg God in His mercy to give me a chance to serve you in some way for these great favors. And if I, my lady, do not express what my will and speech wish to say, since this language is foreign to me, please forgive me, for I learned it very quickly from the doctor Elisabad.”

The Empress took him by the hands, told him not to kneel, and had him sit near her. She spent some time talking with him about those things that such a high lady ought to speak of with a foreign knight whom she did not know, and he responded with such tact and grace that the Empress, who was very wise, looked at him and said to herself that his courage could not be so great as to overshadow his moderation and discretion.

At that time, the Emperor was sitting on a chair, speaking and laughing with the ladies and damsels as he who was very loved by all for having given them many favors and fine marriages. He said in a loud voice so all might hear:

“Honored ladies and damsels, ye see here the Knight of the Green Sword, your loyal servant. Honor him and love him, as he honors and loves all the women in the world and has placed himself in great danger to do justice for you, often coming close to death, according to what I have heard from those who know of his great deeds.”

The Duchess, the mother of Gastiles, said:

“My lord, may God honor and love you and thank you for the protection that ye provide for us.”

The Emperor had two princess rise who were daughters of King Garandel, then King of Hungary, and told them,

“Go get my daughter Leonorina, and let no one but you bring her back.”

They did so, and soon they returned with her, each holding her by the hand. And although she was finely attired, it all seemed like nothing compared to her great natural beauty, so there was no man in the world who saw her who was not amazed and was happy to gaze upon her. She was a girl no older than nine. She came to her mother the Empress, kissed her hands in humble reverence, and sat on the estrado below her. The Knight of the Green Sword was pleased to look at her and was amazed by her beauty, which seemed to be greater than that of any of the women he had seen anywhere he had traveled.

He was reminded then of his lady, the very beautiful Oriana, whom he loved more than he loved himself and of the time when he began to love her, which was at about that age, and how his love for her had always grown and never diminished. He recalled the good times when he had many great delights with her, and the bad times that had caused so much concern and pain in his heart, and he thought for a while about how he had no hope to see her for a long time. He was so lost in memories and unaware of his surroundings that tears came to his eyes, and everyone saw him cry and wondered about that, given his outstanding character.

But he returned the present and felt embarrassed, wiped his eyes, and resumed a pleasant expression. The Emperor, who was closest and saw him weep, wondered what might have caused it but seeing no reason, wished to know how such a brave and discreet knight, before himself and the Empress and other people, could have shown such weakness that even in a woman would have been considered poorly in such a situation, because of how happy the knight had been earlier. But he believed he would never find the cause for such a mystery.

Gastiles, who was next to the Emperor, said:

“What kind of man weeps at a time like this?”

“I would not ask about it,” the Emperor said, “but I think that the power of love made him do it.”

“Well, my lord, if ye wish to find out, there is no one who would know except for the doctor Elisabad, in whom he confides and often speaks to privately.”

Then he sent for Elisabad, had him sit before him, ordered all others to leave, and said:

“Doctor, I want you to tell me the truth if ye know it, and I promise you by who I am that not ye nor anyone else shall come to harm because of it.”

The doctor said:

“My lord, I have confidence in Your Highness’s virtue that it shall be so and that ye shall always show me favor, although I do not deserve it. If I know, I shall tell you willingly.”

“Why did the Knight of the Green Sword cry just now?” the Emperor said. “Tell me, for I am astonished by it, and if he needs my help in something, I shall provide it so thoroughly that he shall be content.”

When the doctor heard this, he said:

“My lord, I do not know what to say about that because there is no man in the world who better hides what he does not wish to be known; he is the most discreet knight ye shall ever see. But I often see him weep and suffer so fiercely that it seems to make no sense, and he sighs with great anxiety as if the heart in his body were breaking. And truly, my lord, as far as I believe, it is the great power of love that torments him, and he is lonely for the woman he loves. If it were some other suffering, I am sure I would find out before anyone else.”

“Certainly,” the Emperor said, “I think the same as you. And if he loves some woman, may God be pleased that she happens to be in my reign, and I would give him such a position and estate that no king or prince would not be pleased to have me give his daughter to him. And I would do this happily to have him with me as a vassal, because there is nothing I could do for him that he would not do more by serving me, such is his valor. And I ask you, doctor, to try to make him stay with me, and anything he asks for I shall grant.”

He thought about that for a while without speaking, then said:

“Doctor, go to the Empress and tell her in private to ask the knight to stay with me, and ye may counsel him to do that for my love, and meanwhile I shall arrange for something that I have just thought of.”

The doctor went to the Empress and the Knight of the Dwarf, and the Emperor called his lovely daughter Leonorina and the two princesses who waited on her, and spoke to them for a while very insistently, but no one else heard what he said. When he had finished, Leonorina kissed his hands and went with the princesses to her chamber, and he remained, speaking with his noblemen.

The Empress spoke with he of the Green Sword about staying with the Emperor, and the doctor advised and urged him to do so. And although there he would be in the best and most honorable situation possible while his father King Perion was alive, that could not conquer his heart, which could take no rest or repose except to think about returning to the land where his very beloved lady Oriana was. Thus no entreaty nor advice could attract him to remain nor detract him from his desire.

The Empress made signs to the Emperor that the knight did not accept her offer. He stood up and came to them and said:

“Knight of the Green Sword, could there be any way that ye would stay with me? There is nothing that ye could ask for that I would not grant if it were in my power.”

“My lord,” he said, “so great is your virtue and grandeur that I would not dare nor know how to ask for such a favor that would be granted, but it is not in my power to do so at the sufferance of my heart. And my lord, do not blame me for not fulfilling your order, for if I were to do so, death would not leave me much time in your service.”

The Emperor truly thought that his passion was caused by nothing other than love, as did everyone else. And at that time the beautiful Leonorina entered the hall with her resplendent visage that annulled all other beauty, and the two princesses with her. She wore a very fine coronet and carried an even finer one in her hand, and she went directly to the Knight of the Green Sword and said:

“My lord Knight of the Green Sword, the time has never come to me before to ask for a boon except from my father, and now I wish to ask it from you. Tell me what ye shall do.”

He knelt before her and said:

“My good lady, who would be of such little wisdom that he would fail to do for you whatever he could? I would be very mad if I did not do your will, my lady. Ask for what would make you delighted, and I shall fulfill it unto death.”

“Ye have made me very happy,” she said, “and I thank you, and I wish to ask for three boons.”

She took the beautiful coronet from her head and said:

“This is the first one. Give this coronet to the most beautiful damsel that ye know, and greet her from me and tell her to send me a message by letter or messenger, and tell her I sent her this coronet which is a gift from this land, although I do not know her.”

Then she took the other crown which had many pearls and stones of great value, especially three that could light an entire room, no matter how dark it was, and gave it to the knight and said:

“Give this to the most beautiful lady that ye know. And tell her that I sent it to her to learn about her, and that I ask her to send me a message. This is the second boon. And before I ask the third, I wish to know what ye shall do with these crowns.”

“What I shall do,” he said, “is to comply immediately with the first boon and fulfill it.”

Then he took the first crown and put it on her head and said:

“I place this crown on the head of the most beautiful damsel that I know of now. And if anyone wishes to disagree, I shall make them know the truth of it by arms.”

Everyone took great pleasure in what he did, and Leonorina no less, although she was embarrassed to be praised so. They said that he had properly fulfilled that gift. And the Empress said:

“Truly, Knight of the Green Sword, I think men would be defeated by your arms easier than my daughter’s beauty would defeat them.”

He felt embarrassed to be praised by such a high lady and did not answer. Instead, he turned to Leonorina and said:

“My lady, do ye wish to ask me the third boon?”

“Yes,” she said. “I ask you to tell me why ye wept, and who she is who has such complete reign over you and your heart.”

The knight blushed and ceased to smile, so everyone knew that her request had troubled him. He said:

“My lady, if ye would be pleased to set aside this question, ask another that would serve you better.”

She said:

“This is what I ask, and I want nothing else.”

He lowered his head and spent some time hesitating, so everyone thought what he had to say was serious. But soon he lifted his head with a happy face, looked at Leonorina, who was before him, and said:

“My lady, since there is no other way to keep my promise, I shall say that when you first entered and I saw you, I recalled the time when I was your age, and a memory came to my heart of that time that was good and delightful, but since it is gone now, it made me weep, as ye saw.”

And she said:

“Well, now tell me who she is who rules your heart.”

“Your great restraint,” he said, “which never fails, works against me. This is my great misfortune, and since I have no choice, I must answer even against my pleasure. Know, my lady, that she whom I most love is the same one to whom ye send this crown. I believe she is the most beautiful lady of all whom I have ever seen, and I even believe among all ladies in the world. And by God, my lady, do not wish to know more from me, for I have fulfilled my promise.”

“Ye have fulfilled it,” the Emperor said, “but in such a way that we know no more than before.”

“It seems to me,” the knight said, “that I have said more than I ever have in the past, and that is the reason I wish to serve this beautiful lady.”

“May God save me,” the Emperor said, “ye truly wish to keep your love secret and hidden, and ye have let this be known. And since my daughter was the cause of this, she must ask your pardon.”

“Many have made this error,” he said, “and they have never learned so much from me. And although I am annoyed by the others, I forgive this beautiful lady because she is so high and outstanding in the world, and she wished so much to know about the affairs of a knight-errant like me. But you, my lord, I shall not pardon so easily. After the long and secret conversation ye had with her earlier, it seems she did this not by her will but by yours.”

The Emperor laughed heartily and said:

“God has made you accomplished in everything. It is as ye say, and because of that, I wish to set things right for her and for me.”

He of the Green Sword knelt to kiss his hands, but he did not wish him to do that, and the knight said:

“My lord, I accept these amends to use them when by chance ye are less concerned about them.”

“That cannot be,” the Emperor said, “for ye shall always be in my memory, and ye may take the amends when ye wish.”

These words passed between the Emperor and he of the Green Sword almost as a jest, but the time would come when out of them would come a great deed, as the fourth book in this story shall recount.

The beautiful Leonorina said:

“My lord Knight of the Green Sword, although ye may have no complaint against me, I am still not free of the guilt of having demanded so much from you against your will, and in amends I wish you to have this ring.”

He said:

“My lady, the hand that wears it I must kiss as your servant, for the ring cannot be on another hand without it troubling me.”

“Yet,” she said, “I wish it to be yours so that ye shall remember the trap I set for you and how subtly you escaped.”

The she took the ring and threw it before the knight on the estrado, saying:

“One like it remains with me in this coronet, which I do not know if ye gave me rightly.”

“Great and good witnesses,” he said, “are those lovely eyes and that beautiful hair, and all that God gave you in special grace.”

He picked up the ring and saw that it was the most beautiful and amazing that he had ever seen, and there was no other stone in the world like it except the one that remained in the coronet. And as the Knight of the Green Sword was looking at it, the Emperor said:

“I want ye to know where the stone came from. Ye can see that half of it is the finest and fieriest ruby ever seen, and the other half is white ruby, which by chance ye have never seen, which is even more beautiful than the scarlet half, and a ring with a gem like that would be hard find anywhere else. Now know that Apolidon, who is spoken of around the world, was my grandfather. I do not know if ye have heard of him.”

“Indeed I have,” said he of the Green Sword, “because as I spent a long time in Great Britain, I saw Firm Island, as it is called, where he left marvels, and, as people recount, he won, much to his honor. He was secretly carrying off the sister of the Emperor of Rome when he made port in that island during a great storm, and as was the custom of the island, he was forced to fight with a giant who at that time reigned over it. With great effort he killed him and became lord of the island, where he lived for a long time with his beloved Grimanesa. And of the things he left there, more than a hundred years passed during which time no knight arrived who surpassed him in skill at arms. I have been there, my lord, and ye well seem to be of his lineage, given your appearance and the statues of him he left beneath the arch of the loyal lovers, which truly seem to be alive.”

“Ye have made me very happy,” the Emperor said, “to make me remember things about him, who in his time had no par. I ask ye to tell me the name of the knight who showed himself to be more valiant and mighty at arms than he was and won Firm Island.”

The knight said:

“He is named Amadis of Gaul, son of King Perion, who has done grand and astounding deeds that are recounted all over the world. When he was born, he was placed in an arc and was found in the sea. And with the name of Childe of the Sea, he killed the mighty King Abies of Ireland in one-on-one battle, then he came to be known to his father and mother.”

“Now I am happier than before because, given the great news I have heard of him, I do not need to feel my grandfather’s skills to be overshadowed since Amadis surpasses all those alive in the world today. And if I were to believe that as the son of such a King and such a great lord, he were to dare to travel so far from his land, I would truly think that he were you, But even as I say this, I doubt it, and in addition, if ye were him, ye would not be so immoderate as to not tell me.”

Although he of the Green Sword felt troubled by this, he still wished to hide his identity, so he did not respond in any way, and said:

“My lord, if your mercy would be pleased, tell me how the stone was cut.”

“I shall tell you with pleasure,” he said. “When Apolidon, my grandfather, as I have said, was lord of this empire, Felipanos, who was King of Judea at that time, send him twelve very handsome and expensive crowns, and although in all of them were large pearls and precious stones, the one that ye gave to my daughter came with this stone, which was then in one piece. Since Apolidon saw that this crown was the most beautiful because of that stone, he gave it to Grimanesa, my grandmother. She ordered a master to cut it in half and put half in this ring, and she gave it to Apolidon and left the other half in the crown as ye see. So it was cut for this ring out of love and given to him. Thus I believe that out of good love my daughter gave it to you, and you will give it to someone even better loved.”

And this came to happen as the Emperor said, for it was placed on the hand of she from whom he left, spending three years without seeing her and suffering great anguish and passion for her love, which another branch of this story shall recount called The Exploits of Esplandian, which tells all about it as well as the deeds of Esplandian.

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