Chapter 77 [part 2 of 2]

[How Oriana sought help from Sir Florestan, and how he promised to give it.] 

[Detail of a tower at the Lesser Quarter side of the Charles Bridge in Prague, Czech Republic, showing a poor woman. Bridge construction began in 1357. Photo by Sue Burke.]
 
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Then they all went to the Queen’s chambers, which were delectable, with trees and fountains and fine rooms. Leaving her there with her ladies and damsels and Sir Grumedan, who remained to serve them, Oriana returned to her chamber. In private with Mabilia and the Damsel of Denmark, she said she truly believed that the knight whom Queen Sardamira spoke of was Amadis. They said they also thought so and were sure of it.

Mabilia said:

“My lady, now I understand a dream I had last night, in which it seemed we were in a locked and enclosed room, and we heard a great noise from outside that terrified us. And your knight broke down the door and shouted for you, and I showed him where you were lying on an estrado. He took you by the hand and brought us all from there and put us in a marvelous high tower and said:

“ ‘Wait here in this tower and fear no one.’

“And that is when I awoke. And that is why, my lady, my heart is full of courage. He will save you.”

When Oriana heard this, she felt joyful and embraced her, weeping, tears falling down her beautiful cheeks, and told her:

“Oh, Mabilia, my good lady and true friend, how well you come to my aid with your courage and fine words! And may God order in His mercy that your dream will come true as you told it. And if this is not His will, may He make it so that Amadis will come and we will both die together and neither of us will remain alive.”

“Let us not speak of this,” Mabilia said, “for God, having made him so blessed in the wonderful things he does for others, will not forsake him in his own needs. And speak with Sir Florestan, showing him great affection, and ask that he and his friends do everything they can so that you are not taken from this land, and ask him to tell that to Sir Galaor on your behalf.”

But I tell you that Sir Galaor, without anyone having spoken to him, already felt this concern and had so counseled the King, and we shall tell you how he did so. Know that King Lisuarte was hunting with Sir Galaor, and after they had hunted, the King was heading toward a valley. He reigned in his palfrey, and after all the others had passed on ahead, he called Sir Galaor and told him:

“My good friend and loyal servant, I have never asked for your counsel about anything in which your advice did not serve me well. Ye already know of the great power and high standing of the Emperor of Rome, who has sent for my daughter to be the Empress. In it I see two things to my great advantage. First, by marrying my daughter so honorably, making her a lady of such a great realm, I shall have the Emperor for my aid whenever I may need it. Second, my daughter Leonoreta will be lady and heir to Great Britain. I wish to speak of this to my noblemen, whom I have sent for, to see what they may advise about this marriage. And I would like you to speak to me here, where we have privacy, if ye please, about how this seems to you. I know you well and I know that ye will advise me about this matter in every sense that would be to my honor.”

Sir Galaor, after he heard this, spent a while thinking, then he said:

“My lord, I do not have a great mind, nor do I have a lot of experience in affairs of this type to know the ins and outs of such a great matter as this. For that reason, my lord, may I be excused, if ye please, because in these matters ye speak of, your lords are the ones with whom ye ought to consult, and they will tell you much better what would be to your honor and service, because they understand it much better than I do.”

“Sir Galaor,” the King said, “yet I wish you to tell me. If not, it would be the greatest sorrow in the world, especially since until today I have never received anything from you but great pleasure and service.”

“May God keep me from angering you,” Sir Galaor said, “but since ye are still pleased to test my simple mind, I shall tell you. And I say that although ye believe that ye would marry your daughter very honorably and to high estate, I think the opposite because she is your heir and successor to these reigns after your days, and ye could not do worse than to take them from her and put them under the subjugation of a foreign man over whom she will have no authority nor power. And if she achieves the goal of such ladies, which is to bear sons, and these sons marry, then she will be placed in even greater subjugation and poverty than before, seeing another empress reign.

“And regarding what ye said, that he shall help you, given that ye and your knights and friends are so worthy and have enhanced your dominions and your great fame in the world, I think, rather, it would diminish you to think and believe that ye could to turn to him in need. Given the arrogant ways everyone says he has, I think instead it would be the opposite, and ye would always suffer opposition and expenses without reward from him. The worst of this is that ye would be subject to being in his service and being judged as his servant, and ye would always be remembered that way in the books and chronicles. That is why, my lord, while ye see this to your greater honor, I see this as the greatest dishonor that could happen to you.

“And as to what ye say about your daughter Leonoreta inheriting Great Britain, this is a very great error, and from it many other errors would follow if discretion did not intervene. If ye, my lord, were to take this reign from a daughter so outstanding in the world, who rightly deserves it, and give it to one who ought not have it, may it never please God for me to advise you to do so. I do not say this about your daughter, because even the poorest woman of the world should not have what is hers taken from her. I say this for the loyalty I owe to God and you and my soul, and your daughter, for I hold myself as your vassal and hers.

“I am leaving tomorrow, God willing, for Gaul, to see my father the King, who for some reason has called for me. If ye please, I shall leave a letter explaining all that I have said under my name that ye may show to all the noblemen. If there is a knight who says otherwise, holding himself to be wiser, I shall fight him and make him know that what I have said is the truth.”

The King, having heard this, felt unsatisfied by his reasoning, although he did not show it, and he said:

“My friend Sir Galaor, if ye wish to go, leave me the letter.”

But he did not plan to show it to others unless it became very necessary.

And so as ye have heard, King Lisuarte rode with Sir Galaor until they arrived at his palace, and that night they rested with pleasure, everyone talking about the wedding, especially the King, who felt very eager for it. The next day Sir Galaor gave him the letter, said farewell to him and the noblemen, and left for Gaul. And know ye that the intention of Sir Galaor at this time was to prevent that wedding because he did not think it was to the advantage of the King, and he also suspected an affair between Amadis and Oriana, daughter of King Lisuarte, although no one had told him about it. He wished to go far away where he would no longer hear it spoken of, knowing that the King was already totally determined for it to happen. And Oriana knew nothing of this, and this is why she asked Sir Florestan to speak about it on her behalf with Sir Galaor, as ye have heard.

So that is how the day passed, as ye hear, at Miraflores. Queen Sardamira was very astounded by Oriana’s great beauty and could not believe that any mortal could be so lovely, although her beauty had been greatly diminished due to the great anguish and tribulations her heart gave her, fearing the marriage to the Emperor and hearing no news from her beloved friend Amadis of Gaul. And she did not wish for the Queen to speak to her about the Emperor but rather of other news and pleasure. But the next day she did speak of him, and such was the reply of Oriana, although with honor and courtesy, that she did not dare to speak of it again.

Then Oriana, knowing that Sir Florestan wished to leave, took him and went beneath some trees where there was a very fine estrado, had him sit facing her, and told him plainly and with her entire will about how her father was forcing her to be disinherited and sent to foreign lands, and she hoped for no other thing but death. And she wished to express her grievances not only to Sir Florestan, who loved her so well and in whom she had all hope and faith, but to all the grandees in all the kingdom, and to all the knights-errant, so they would have sorrow and pity for her and beg her father to change his mind.

“And ye, my good lord and friend Sir Florestan,” she said, “ask to advise him so he will understand the great sin that he is doing to me with this great cruelty and offense.”

Sir Florestan said:

“My good lady, without a doubt ye may well believe that I must serve you in everything that ye may order with the same will and humility as I would do for my father and lord King Perion. But I could not request this of your father at all because I am not his vassal nor would he take me into his counsel knowing the disdain I have over the ills he has done to me and my lineage. If he has had some service from me, he has no reason to be grateful to me, since I did it on the orders of my brother and lord Amadis, whom I could never contradict. It is not because your father the King would have lost these lands in the battle of the seven kings but because ye would have, Amadis placed himself in that battle and brought King Perion and myself with him, as ye know.

“He did that because he holds you to be one of the finest princesses in the world, and if he knew now about how ye are being coerced and wronged against your entire volition, my lady, believe that, with all his strength, he and his friends would put it right. I do not say this because ye are the high lady that ye are, since he would do this for the poorest woman that could be found in the world. So, my good lady, have hope, for there is still time to save you, if God wills, and I shall not stop until I am at Firm Island, where the knight Agrajes is, who is very willing to serve you because his father and mother raised you and because of the great love ye have for his sister Mabilia. And there we shall meet and decide what we can do.”

“Do you know,” Oriana said, “if Agrajes is there for certain?”

“I know it,” he said, “for Sir Grumedan told me he knew it because he sent a squire of his to him.”

“May God have mercy and guide him,” she said, “and give him my greetings. And tell him that I have great hopes in him and I rightly ought to. In the meantime if ye hear some news about your brother Amadis, let me know so I can tell it to his cousin Mabilia, who is dying from loneliness for him. May God guide you and Agrajes to come to a good agreement about my situation.”

Sir Florestan kissed her hands and said farewell. He took Sir Grumedan with him and went to Queen Sardamira and told her:

“My lady, I wish to go, and wherever I go I am your knight and servant, so I ask ye to think of me as such and order me to do anything that may serve you.”

The Queen said:

“Any woman who would not wish the service and honor of a man of such worth as you, Sir Florestan, would be foolish, and if God wills, I shall not fall into such great error. Instead, I receive your fine courtesy and I thank you as much as I can, and I shall always remember to ask you for anything you could do.”

Sir Florestan, who was studying her closely, said:

“May God, who has made ye so beautiful, thank you on my behalf for your answer, since I can give you nothing now more than my will and my word.”

And with that, he said goodby to her and to Mabilia and all the other ladies that were there, and he asked Sir Grumedan that if he heard any news about Amadis, to send it to him at Firm Island. He went to his lodging and armed himself, mounted his horse, and, with his squires, took the road that went straight to Firm Island, where he wished to speak with Agrajes and arrange with his friends to save Oriana if her father were to give her to the Romans.

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Chapter 77 [part 1 of 2]

How Queen Sardamira sent a message to Sir Florestan, telling him that because he had defeated her knights and left them injured, she wished him to guard her as far as Miraflores Castle, where she was going to speak with Oriana; and what happened there. 

[Statue of Beatriz Galindo (1465-1535) in Madrid. She served as a professor at the University of Salamanca before she became tutor to the children of Queen Isabella. Because of her proficiency in Latin, she was nicknamed La Latina, and the neighborhood in Madrid where she lived is still called La Latina. Photo by Tamorlan.]
 
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So, as you have heard, Sir Grumedan was speaking with Queen Sardamira, who was happy to hear about the journey the Emperor had made back when he called himself Patin. He had been traveling for her love, since he had loved her dearly and had gone to Great Britain hoping to win her love by testing himself against the fine knights there. But he had never told her about what had happened to him with Amadis, and she laughed a lot inwardly over how he had kept it from her.

Sir Grumedan told her:

“My lady, give me the message ye would be most pleased to have sent to Sir Florestan.”

She thought a bit and said:

“Sir Grumedan, you can see that my knights are badly injured and can no longer guard me or themselves, and they ought to stay behind for their health. Given how the knights of this land are, I would wish that Sir Florestan were my guard along with you.”

He said:

“I tell you, my lady, that Sir Florestan is so courteous that a lady or damsel could ask nothing from him that he would not do, and even more for you, for ye are a great lady to whom he must make amends for his error.”

“I am very pleased by what ye say,” she said, “and if ye give me someone to guide this damsel, I shall send her with my message.”

He gave her four squires, and the Queen sent the damsel who had received the horses with a letter of credentials, and told her privately what to say. She mounted her palfrey and with the squires she hurried on her way. When she arrived at the hermitage, she found Sir Florestan, who was speaking with the hermit, and she dismounted. Since she had not veiled her face, he recognized her immediately and received her very well.

She told him:

“My lord, there was a time today when I did not wish to look for you because I thought things would happen differently between you and our knights.”

“My good lady,” he said, “it was their fault, for they asked me to do what I could not refuse without shame. But tell me if your lady the Queen is going to lodge tonight where I left her.”

The damsel said:

“My lord, the Queen sends you her greetings. Take this letter I bring from her.”

He looked at it and said:

“My lady, tell me the order she sent with you, and I shall fulfill it.”

“It would not be unreasonable to do so,” she said. “In fact, it is to your honor and courtesy as a good knight, and I tell you I was ordered to say that the knights who guarded her were left in such a poor state by you that they cannot serve her. And since this trouble is caused by you, she wishes you to guard her until she reaches Miraflores, where she is going to see Oriana.”

“I am very gratified to your lady, for I hold it as a great honor and gift to be able to serve her. Let us leave here at such a time that we arrive at her tent at dawn.”

“In the name of God,” the lady said. “And now I say that ye are well known to Sir Grumedan, who told the Queen that ye would give the answer that ye did.”

The damsel was very taken by the fine words and great discretion of Sir Florestan, and by how he was handsome and debonair, and in every way he seemed like a high-born man, which he was. There they supped together and spoke about many things until well into the night. When it was time to sleep, they made a lodging for the damsel in the hermitage, and Sir Florestan went beneath the trees with his squires and slept that night very peacefully after the day’s labors. But when it was time, the squires awoke him, and he armed himself and brought the lady and the rest of the company with him as he rode, arriving at the tents early in the morning.

The damsel went to the Queen, and Sir Florestan to Sir Grumedan’s tent, who had already risen and was speaking with his knights, and he was about to hear Mass. When he saw Sir Florestan, he was delighted, and they embraced each other with pleasure and immediately went to the Queen’s tent.

Sir Grumedan told him:

“My lord, the Queen wishes you to guard her, and you should, for she is a very noble lady. And it seems to me that she made no bad exchange to lose her knights and win you,” he said laughing.

“May God help me,” Sir Florestan said, “I very much wish to put myself in her service in whatever may please her, especially doing it in your company, since I have not seen you for so long.”

“My lord, God knows how much it pleases me to see you,” he said. “Tell me what ye did with the shields that ye took from here.”

“I sent them last night with my squire to Firm Island and to your friend Sir Gandales, so he can put them where they may be seen by everyone who comes there, and the Romans will know where they are if they wish to come and try to take them.”

“If they do,” Sir Grumedan said, “the island will be well supplied with their shields and weapons.”

So they spoke as they came to where the Queen was, who knew they were coming. Sir Florestan came before her and wished to kiss her hands, but she would not let him and put her hand on the sleeve of his coat of mail as a sign of welcome, and told him:

“Sir Florestan, I am very thankful that ye have come and for the effort ye wish to make in my service. In that way ye have made amends for the injury ye did to my knights, and it is right to forgive you.”

“My good lady,” he said, “it is no effort or labor to serve you. Instead, I am very sorry if I gave you any affront, and I accept this as a great honor and kindness. And I ask ye to order me to do whatever else may be in your service, my lady, and as your knight and servant I shall fulfill it with my deepest devotion.”

The Queen asked Sir Grumedan if everything was ready for travel. He replied:

“My lady, ye may go whenever ye wish, and I shall have these injured knights taken to a town near here where they shall be cared for until they are well. Given their injuries, they cannot travel with us until they are healthy.”

“So shall it be,” she said.

Then they brought the Queen a palfrey white as snow with a fine saddle marvelously decorated with gold, as were the reins. She was dressed in fine clothing with pearls and expensive stones around her neck, which added to her great beauty. Her ladies and damsels, finely attired, immediately mounted, and with Sir Florestan taking the Queen’s horse by the reins, they took the road to Miraflores.

I tell you that Oriana already knew they were coming, which weighed on her, for there was nothing worse in the world for her than to hear speak of the Emperor of Rome, and she knew for certain that the Queen came for no other reason. But she was very pleased that Sir Florestan was coming when she learned that he was traveling with her, because she could ask him for news about Amadis and express her grievances to him about her father the King.

Although she was very upset, she ordered the house be decorated beautifully with fine estrados to receive them, and she wore her best clothing, as did Mabilia and her other damsels.

When Queen Sardamira entered the palace where Oriana was, Sir Florestan and Grumedan escorted her. She impressed Oriana, who thought that if it were not for what she was seeking, she would be very pleased to have her with her. The Queen approached and knelt before Oriana and wished to kiss her hands, but she pulled her up and told her that she was a queen and lady, and herself a poor damsel whose sins had brought her harm.

Then Mabilia and the other damsels greeted her, showing great pleasure to meet the Queen. But Oriana could not, for she had never felt pleasure since the Romans had arrived at her father’s court. But I tell you that she was very delighted with Sir Florestan and Sir Grumedan, for her heart found some rest with them.

All the women sat on an estrado, and Oriana had Sir Florestan and Sir Grumedan sit facing her, and after she had spoken a while with the Queen, she turned to Sir Florestan and said:

“My good friend, it has been a long time since I saw you, and I am sorry for that since I love you dearly, as do all who know you. And great is the loss of you and Amadis and your friends to Great Britain because you used to set right great wrongs and grievances here. May those who caused your estrangement from my father be damned, and if ye were all here together as before, an unfortunate woman, now sadly awaiting to be disinherited and be brought close to death, could have hope for remedy. And if ye were here, you would speak for her and come to her defense as ye have always done, for ye would never forsake those who need your help in their time of troubles. But such as been the ill fortune of she of whom I speak that nothing awaits her but death.”

As she said this, she wept bitterly, and for two reasons: The first because if her father were to deliver her to the Romans, she planned to throw herself into the sea. The other, because of her loneliness for Amadis, whom Sir Florestan reminded her of as he sat before her, looking so much like him.

Sir Florestan, who was very clever, understood that she was speaking about herself, and said:

“My good lady, God in His mercy brings help to those in great troubles, and my lady, place your hope in Him to bring you counsel for your trouble. And of what ye say of Amadis, my lord brother whom I deeply long to see, if in some places they lack his help, in others those who need it find it. Believe, my lady, that he is well and in his free will, traveling in foreign lands doing wondrous feats at arms and helping those who have been done ill, for God has placed his excellence in the world above all others He caused to be born.”

Queen Sardamira, who was near them and heard every word, said:

“Oh, may God keep Amadis from falling into the hands of the Emperor, who despises him mortally. I can only feel sorrow for his hatred at him for being so esteemed, and at you, Sir Florestan, who is his brother.”

“My lady,” he said, “many others love him and wish him well and honor.”

“And I tell you,” the Queen said, “that from what I know, there is no man whom the Emperor hates as much as him, except for a knight who lodged for a time in the court of King Tafinor of Bohemia when the Emperor’s men went to war with him. That knight of whom I speak killed Sir Garadan in battle, who was the best knight in the entire lineage of the Emperor and in the entire dominion of Rome besides Salustanquidio, the very honorable prince sent on orders of the Emperor to your father for your wedding.

“And that knight of whom I speak, the day after he had killed Sir Garadan, through his great skill at arms he killed another eleven knights of the Emperor, among the best in all Rome. And with these two battles that I speak of, that knight brought to an end the Emperor’s war against the King of Bohemia, who otherwise would have had no expectation but to lose all his kingdom. So it was a good day when such a noble knight came to his court to solve all his ills.”

Then Queen Sardamira explained in detail the reasons behind the battles, and how the war was won to the honor and advantage of King Tafinor, just as this book has told. After she was done, Sir Florestan said:

“My good lady, do you know the name of this knight to whom all these things happened to increase his honor?”

“Yes,” the Queen said. “They call him the Knight of the Green Sword or the Knight of the Dwarf, and he answers to either of those names. But everyone knows those are not his real names. He carries a grand sword in a green sheath, and a dwarf accompanies him, so those names come from that. And as with the squire who accompanies him, the dwarf never parts from his side.”

When Sir Florestan heard this description, he was joyful and believed that it was in fact his brother Amadis. Oriana and Mabilia also believed that. Sir Florestan, after some thought, decided that when he left King Lisuarte’s court, he would go look for him. And Oriana, who was dying to speak privately with Mabilia, said to the Queen:

“My good lady, ye have come from far away and must need to relax, and it would be good if ye were to rest in these fine room that ye have here.”

“So it shall be done,” she said, “since ye wish it, my lady.”

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Chapter 76 [part 3 of 3]

[How Sir Grumedan and Queen Sardamira came to know the knight was Sir Florestan, brother of Amadis.]

[A late 15th century parade shield from Flanders or Burgundy depicting an image of courtly love: “vous ou la mort” (you or death). At the British Museum.]
 
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Sir Grumedan said to Sir Florestan:

“My lord, if ye please, tell us your name, for such a fine man as yourself should not go unknown.”

He replied:

“My lord Sir Grumedan, I pray it does not trouble you if I do not say, because due to the discourtesy I did to that lovely Queen for no reason, I do not wish her to know it, and I feel very guilty, although she and her ladies are more guilty. Their great beauty was the cause for my error, for it left me dazzled. And I beg you, my lord Sir Grumedan, that ye seek their forgiveness in exchange for whatever amends I might be able to make, and that ye send me their answer to the round hermitage near here, which is where I shall lodge today.”

Sir Grumedan told him:

“I shall do all in my power to do as ye wish, and I shall send my squire with the response. I think that the answer he shall bring you will be good, as ye deserve.”

The knight from Firm Island told him:

“I ask you, my lord Sir Grumedan, that if ye know any news about Amadis, please tell me.”

And Sir Grumedan, who deeply loved he whom he had been asked about, had tears come to his eyes from longing for him, and said:

“May God help me, good knight, from the time he left Gaul and his father King Perion’s house, I have heard no news at all about him, and I would be delighted to learn anything and tell it to you and to all his friends.”

“I well believe this,” Sir Florestan said, “due to your good will and the great loyalty within you, my lord. If all men were like that, immoderation and disloyalty would find noplace here to lodge, and they would be forced from this world. May God be with you, and I shall go to the hermitage, where I shall wait for the word your squire brings.”

“May ye go with God,” Sir Grumedan said.

He went to the tents, and Sir Florestan to where his squires were. He ordered the horses he had won be brought to the tents, and the peach-colored horse be given to Sir Grumedan on his behalf because it seemed especially fine, and the other four be given to the damsel who had spoken to him to do with as she pleased, and to say that they were sent by Sir Florestan.

Sir Grumedan was very happy with the horse for having belonged to the Romans, and even more to know that the knight had been Sir Florestan, whom he deeply loved and appreciated.

The squires gave the other horses to the damsel and told her:

“My lady damsel, that knight to whom ye spoke derisively today, praising your Romans, sends you these horses to do with as ye please, and asks ye to take them as proof of the truth of the words he said.”

“I am deeply grateful,” she said, “and truly, he won them with great honor and nobility, but I would be even more pleased if he had left his horse here than to receive these four.”

“That may well be,” said one of the squires, “but whoever would win his horse would have to have better knights than the ones who tried to take it from him here.”

The damsel said:

“Do not be surprised if I prefer the honor of those knights than honor from one whose name I do not even know. But however that may be, he has sent me a beautiful gift, and I am sorry to have said something to such a good man that made him angry. I shall make amends however he may ask.”

With that the squires returned to their lord, who waited for them, and told him what had happened, which pleased him. He ordered them to take the Romans’ shields and went to the round hermitage to wait there for word from Sir Grumedan. The hermitage was on the road straight to Firm Island, and he had no desire to go to the court of King Lisuarte. Instead, he wished to go talk to Sir Gandales, who governed the island, to ask him if he had any news about his brother and to deliver the shields.

But I tell ye that Sir Grumedan immediately went before Queen Sardamira and very humbly told her what Sir Florestan had asked him to say, and he told her his name. The Queen listened very carefully and said:

“Would this Sir Florestan be the son of King Perion and the Countess of Selandia?”

“He is, my lady, just as ye say, and I think he is one of the most courageous and courteous knights in the world.”

“I do not know how things have gone for him,” she said, “but I tell you, Sir Grumedan, that the sons of the Marquis of Ancona speak very highly of his great skill at arms, and his fine deeds, and how he is wise and prudent. And this ought to be believed, for they were his companions in the great wars in Rome, where Sir Florestan spent three years when he was a young knight. But of his skill they do not dare speak in front of the Emperor, who disdains him and does not wish to hear him spoken well of.”

“Do ye know,” Sir Grumedan said, “why the Emperor disdains him?”

“Yes,” the Queen said, “because of his brother Amadis, with whom the Emperor is aggrieved because Amadis got to Firm Island first and passed the tests that Patin expected to win. This is why he despises him, because Amadis deprived him of the honor and praise that he meant to gain.”

Sir Grumedan smiled over that and said:

“Truly, my lady, he has no reason to be aggrieved. Instead, I believe that he ought to love him for this because he saved him from the greatest dishonor he could have had, as happened to many other knights who tested their great skill at arms there and could not win. The winner could only be he whom God had raised above all others in the world in strength and every other thing a good knight ought to have. But believe me, my lady, that there is another reason why the Emperor ought to despise him.”

The Queen said:

“By the faith ye owe to God, Sir Grumedan, tell me.”

“My lady,” he said, “I shall tell you, but do not become angered by it.”

Laughing, she told him:

“Whatever it is, I wish to hear it.”

“In the name of God,” he said. Then he told her what had happened to the Emperor with Amadis in the forest one night when the Emperor rode praising love and Amadis rode lamenting it, and everything they said to each other, and how the fight between them was, just as ye have heard in the second book.* The Queen was very taken by the story and had him tell it three times, and said:

“May God help me, Sir Grumedan, from what ye say, it is easy to understand why this knight can serve love when he is happy with it, and do the opposite when love runs contrary. Yet it seems to me this small cause was not enough to create disdain between the Emperor and Amadis.”

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*In Chapters 46 and 47.

Chapter 76 [part 2 of 3]

[How Sir Florestan defeated all the knights but was restrained from killing Gradamor.] 

[Knights fighting with a lance, which was usually made of a single long piece of wood tipped with iron or steel.]
 
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The knight rode across the river and prepared his arms to meet Sir Florestan, who, seeing that the knight had crossed the river and was coming toward him, spurred his horse and charged, and the Roman did the same. The lances missed, horses and shields met each other, and the Roman, who was the poorer horseman, went to the ground immediately. It was such a great fall that his right arm was broken and he was dazed. To those who were watching he seemed dead, for that was how it looked.

Sir Florestan ordered one of his squires to dismount and take the shield and hang it from a tree, and also had him take the horse, and he returned to the place where he had been, obviously unhappy with himself for having missed. He put the tip of the lance on the ground and waited.

Then he saw another knight coming at him and charged as fast as his horse could carry him, but he did not miss this time. Instead, he struck the knight so hard on the shield that it gave way and with such force that he was thrown from the horse with the saddle on top of him. The lance had penetrated his shield and flesh and came out the other side. Sir Florestan rode past him looking handsome and riding well, then turned back to him and said:

“Sir Roman knight, the saddle ye wear may be yours, but the horse is mine, and if ye wish to recount this in Rome, I grant you permission.”

He spoke loudly enough that the Queen and her ladies and damsels could hear him clearly. And I tell you that Sir Grumedan was especially joyful to hear the knight from Great Britain say and do this to the knight from Rome. He said to Gradamor:

“My lord, if ye and your companions do not show yourself to be better, ye shall have no reason to bring down the walls of Rome to enter when ye arrive there.”

Gradamor told him:

“You think too highly of what happened, but if my companions complete their jousts well, I shall make ye say otherwise, and not with as much satisfaction as ye have now.”

“We are close to seeing that,” Sir Grumedan said, “for it seems to me that the knight from Firm Island can defend his shield well. I am confident in him and doubt we will have to fight the battle that I have set with you.”

Gradamor began to laugh without humor and said:

“When that time comes true, I shall grant you all that ye have said.”

“In the name of God,” Sir Grumedan said, “and I shall have my horse and my arms ready to fulfill what I said, because it seems to you that the knight in the field will not last long against your fellows, but I believe he thinks of you very differently from how you think of him.”

The Queen felt sorrow to hear the mad words of Gradamor and the other Romans. Sir Florestan had the shield and horse taken from the knight, who lay as if dead and senseless on the ground, but when they pulled the piece of lance from him, the knight shouted in a pain-filled voice asking for confession.

Sir Florestan took a lance and returned to the same place where he had been. Soon he saw another knight on a large and handsome horse coming toward him, but with less valor than the first. He charged at Sir Florestan as fast as he could, but the encounter came at an angle and his lance was knocked aside and broken. Sir Florestan struck him on the helmet, broke its laces, and knocked it from his head to roll on the field, and made the knight grab the neck of the horse, although he did not fall.

Sir Florestan raised his lance and came at him with ire, and the knight, who saw him coming, raised his shield. Sir Florestan struck it so hard that the shield hit him in the face, stunning him, and he dropped his reins. When Sir Florestan he was addled, he dropped the lance and grabbed the other knight’s shield so hard that he pulled it from his neck, then struck two blows with it on his head so hard that they made him fall from his horse senseless, and he rolled across the field.

He ordered that the other knight’s horse and shield be taken from him, and he went to the Roman and told him:

“From this day on, if ye lose, ye may return to Rome and praise the Knights of Great Britain.”

He straightened himself in the saddle and charged at the fourth knight, whom he saw coming at him. But the joust was determined at the first encounter, when Sir Florestan met him so hard that he and his horse were thrown to the ground, and the knight had his leg broken near his foot. When the horse stood up, the knight remained on the ground, unable to arise.

Sir Florestan had his shield and his horse taken like the rest.

He took a very good lance from his squire and saw that Gradamor was coming at him wearing handsome new arms and riding a large, beautiful, peach-colored horse, brandishing a lance with the hope of breaking it on him. The threat filled Sir Florestan with anger.

Gradamor shouted:

“Sir Grumedan, do not bother to put on your armor, for before you can mount your horse I shall make this knight before me need your help.”

“Now we shall see,” Sir Grumedan said, “but despite your praise of yourself, I do not know if my help will be needed until I see what happens.”

Gradamor, who had already crossed the river, saw Sir Florestan charging at him as fast as his horse could gallop, well covered with his shield, his lance lowered to attack, and he rode toward him as fast as his horse could go. Both knights were strong and valiant, and Gradamor’s lance passed through his shield a good palm-width deep, and there it snapped off. Sir Florestan’s passed through his shield from right to left and broke the plates on Gradamor’s armor by the force of the blow, which threw him from the saddle into a ditch full of water and mud.

As he passed, Sir Florestan ordered his squires to take his horse. Sir Grumedan, seeing this, told the Queen:

“My lady, it seems to me that ye may rest for a bit while Gradamor dries his armor and seeks another horse on which to fight.”

The Queen said:

“May their madness and arrogance be damned, with everyone becoming irate at each other and then falling into shame.”

Gradamor spent a while struggling in the water and mud, and when he was able to get out, he felt great sorrow over what had happened to him. He took off his helmet and wiped the water and mud from his eyes and face with his hand, shook his hand clean as best he could, and laced his helmet back on. When Sir Florestan saw that, he rode to him and said:

“My lord threatening knight, I tell you that if you do not help yourself better with your sword than with your lance, ye shall not take my shield or my name to Rome.”

Gradamor told him:

“I regret the test of the lances, but I did not bring this sword for any other reason than to avenge myself, and with it I shall soon see if you dare to maintain the custom of this land.”

Sir Florestan, who knew it better than he did, told him:

“And what custom is this that ye speak of?

“Either give me my horse,” he said, “or dismount from yours, and on feet we shall test our swords. The game shall be equal and the one who plays more poorly shall be left without blessing or mercy.”

Sir Florestan told him:

“I well believe that ye would not maintain this custom if ye were victorious, but I wish to dismount because it would not be right if a handsome Roman knight like yourself were to mount a horse only to be knocked from it again.”

Then he dismounted and gave his horse to his squires and put his hand on his sword. He covered himself carefully with his shield and strode toward him with rage, and their swords struck bravely. The battle was fierce and dangerous to all watching due to the anger between the two knights. But it did not last long, for Sir Florestan, who was stronger and more robust in use of arms, knowing that the Queen and her ladies were watching him along with Sir Grumedan, more knowledgeable in combat than them, used all his exertion, delivering such great and weighty blows that Gradamor, although he was valiant, could not withstand them. He retreated from the field of combat in the direction of the Queen’s tent, trusting that Sir Florestan, out of respect for her, would not follow him.

But Sir Florestan stopped him and made him turn back, and soon Gradamor was exhausted and dropped to the ground, having lost all his strength. His sword fell from his hand. Sir Florestan took his shield and gave it to his squires, and grabbed the other knight’s helmet, pulling so hard that he dragged him for a while around the field, took it off, and threw it into the muddy ditch ye have already heard about. He came back to Gradamor and took him by a leg and wanted to throw him into the same ditch as the helmet. Gradamor began to shout to have mercy on him in the name of God.

The Queen, who saw that, said:

“That wretch bargained poorly when he declared that the winner should have no quarter nor mercy on the loser.”

Sir Florestan said to Gradamor:

“A pact that such an honorable knight as yourself proposed ought not be broken, and I shall fulfill it with you completely, as ye shall now see.”

When Gradamor heard this, he said:

“Oh, poor me! I am dead.”

“So it shall be,” Sir Florestan said, “if you do not follow my orders about two things.”

“Give the orders,” he said, “and I shall obey.”

“First,” Sir Florestan said, “by your hand, and with the blood of yourself and your companions, write your name and theirs on the bosses of the shields, and when this is done, I shall tell you the second thing I want you to do.”

As Sir Florestan said this, he waved his sword over Gradamor, who trembled beneath it in fear. He called his scribe and ordered him to empty the ink from his inkwell and fill it with his blood and write his name on his shield, since he could not, and all the names of his companions on the other shields, and to do so quickly because he did not wish to have his head cut off. This was immediately done, and Sir Florestan cleaned his sword and put it in its sheath. He mounted his horse so easily it seemed he had done no labor that day. He gave his shield to his squire, but he kept on his helmet so Sir Grumedan would not recognize him.

The horse he rode was large and handsome and of an unusual color, and the knight was of a size and height so attractive that few could be found that looked as good as he did in armor. He picked up a lance with a fine and handsome pendant and held it over Gradamor, who had by then stood up.

Waving the lance, Sir Florestan said:

“Your life is not safe unless Sir Grumedan asks me not to kill you in front of him.”

Gradamor began to shout, calling on Grumedan to help him in the name of God, for it was a matter of life or death. Sir Grumedan came immediately on foot and said:

“Truly, Gradamor, if you do not deserve mercy or pity, this is proper, for in your arrogance this is what you asked from this lord, but I shall ask him to let you live because in that way he shall please me and serve me.”

“I shall happily do so for you,” Sir Florestan said, “as I would in everything that may be to your honor and pleasure.” Then he said:

“Ye, Sir Roman knight, from this day on, when ye are judged in Rome, if ye go there, ye may tell them of the great arrogant threats that ye declared against the knights of Great Britain, and what happened with them, and of the great praise and honor ye achieved in the short space of a single day. Ye may say so to your Emperor and to his potentates so that they may take pleasure in it. And I shall make it known on Firm Island how the knights of Rome are so generous and giving that they gladly present their horses and arms to strangers. But I do not have to thank you for your gifts, instead I shall thank God, who wished you to give them to me.”

Gradamor was so badly injured that his soul was about to leave him, but when he heard this, the words hurt more than his injuries.

Sir Florestan told him:

“My lord knight, ye make take back to Rome all the arrogance that ye brought from there, for they love and value it there. The knights of this land care not for it, and prefer that which ye abhor, which is courtesy and good will. And if ye, my lord, have a beloved equal to your courage at arms, and if ye wish me to take you to Firm Island, ye may try the enchanted arch of loyal lovers there, where men test their faithfulness to their beloved ladies. With the praise and honor that ye take from Great Britain, your beloved ought to love you more, and if it is true, she shall not leave you for another.”

I tell ye that Sir Grumedan felt great pleasure to hear those words, and laughed heartily to see the Roman’s pride broken that way. But Gradamor did not feel the same. Instead, those words broke his heart, and he said to Sir Grumedan:

“My good lord, by God, order me taken to the tents, for I am badly hurt.”

“It seems that ye are, from your appearance and your armor,” he said, “and it is your own fault.”

Then he had the squires take him away.

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Chapter 76 [part 1 of 3]

How Queen Sardamira and the other ambassadors from the Emperor of Rome arrived in Great Britain, having been sent to bring him Oriana, the daughter of King Lisuarte; and what happened to them in a forest where they had gone for recreation involving a knight-errant insulted by the ambassadors, and how he repaid them for their lack of respect. 

[An illustration from Codex Manesse, a German songbook written and illustrated between about 1304 and 1340. This miniature depicts the Alemannic poet Winli.]
 
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When Emperor Patin’s ambassadors arrived in Lombardy, they hired ships and sailed to Great Britain, landing in Fenusa where King Lisuarte was. He received them with great honors and ordered them to be very well-provisioned and given fine lodgings and everything they might need. At that time, many noblemen were with the King, and he awaited others whom he had sent for to advise him about the marriage of his daughter Oriana. He promised the ambassadors a reply within a month, giving them great hope that his decision would make them happy.

He also decided that Queen Sardamira, whom the Emperor had sent with twenty ladies and damsels to accompany Oriana by sea and serve her, should go to Miraflores where Oriana was and tell her about the grandeur of Rome and the high station she would have with the marriage, reigning over many kings and princes and other great lords. King Lisuarte did this because he knew his daughter’s will was deeply opposed to the wedding, but the Queen, who was very wise, might be able to convince her. Indeed, Oriana was so anxious and anguished that she could not think or speak, believing that her father would deliver her to the Romans entirely against her will, and for her and her beloved Amadis, that would mean death.

So Queen Sardamira left for Miraflores. On orders of the King, Sir Grumedan accompanied her to serve her, and in her guard she had knights from Rome and from Sardinia, where she reigned. It happened that they were on a green riverbank with beautiful flowers waiting for the heat of the afternoon to pass, and her knights, who were esteemed in arms, put their five shields outside the tent.

Sir Grumedan told them:

“My lords, have your shields placed inside the tent if ye do not wish to uphold the custom of this land, which is that any knight who puts his shield or lance outside the tent, house, or hut where he is lodging must joust with any knights who ask him to.”

“We fully understand that custom, and that is why we had them put outside,” they said. “God willing, before we leave, we will be asked to joust by someone.”

“In the name of God,” Sir Grumedan said, “some knights usually travel here, and if they do, we shall see how ye shall fight.”

While they waited, as ye hear, soon came the esteemed and valiant Sir Florestan, who had traveled many lands looking for his brother Amadis but had never learned any news about him, so he rode with great sorrow and sadness. And because he had heard that people from Rome and other places beyond the sea were in the court of King Lisuarte, he was going there to see if any of them had news about his brother.

When he saw the tents near the road he came down, he approached to learn who was there. He arrived at Queen Sardamira’s tent and saw her on an estrado, and she was one of the most beautiful women in the world, and the tent had its side raised, so he saw all her ladies and damsels. To see the Queen better, who seemed so fine and well-attired, he rode on horseback between the ropes of the tent to gaze at her.

And as he did, a damsel came to him and said:

“My lord knight, ye are not very courteous to be on horseback so close to such a good Queen and the other high-born ladies who are here. Ye would do better to study those shields over there, which pose a challenge to you, as do the knights they belong to.”

“Truly, my very good lady,” Sir Florestan said, “what ye say is true, but the blame is in my eyes, wishing to see the beautiful Queen, and that has caused me to fall in such a great error. I ask forgiveness from the good lady and from all of you, and I shall make amends in any way she may order.”

“Ye speak well,” the damsel said, “but before forgiveness, ye must make amends.”

“Good damsel,” Sir Florestan said, “I shall do this right away, if I can, provided that it does not require failing to do what I must about those shields, or else they must be put inside the tent.”

“My lord knight,” she said, “do not believe that the shields were put there by mistake. Before they are removed, their owners in their great courage will have defeated all the knights who have passed here and wished to fight. They will take those knights’ shields to Rome with their owners’ names written on the bosses to show how the skills of the Romans overshadowed those of the knights of other lands. If ye wish to avoid falling into dishonor, turn back toward where ye came from, and your shield and name shall not be taken to where your honor will be declared null.”

“Damsel,” he said, “may it please God, I shall protect myself from the dishonor ye speak of, but I cannot trust in your kindness or take any of your counsel. Instead, I intend to take those shields to Firm Island.”

Then he said to the Queen:

“My lady, may ye be commended to God, and may He, who made you so beautiful, give you great joy and pleasure.” And he rode toward the shields.

Sir Grumedan, who had heard everything he said to the damsel, held him in high regard, especially when he mentioned Firm Island because he immediately thought him to be of the valiant Amadis’s lineage, and he believed the knight would truly be able to do what he had told the damsel and take the shields to Firm Island. He was also happy because he would see how good the Roman knights were at arms. He did not know that the knight was Sir Florestan, but the knight seemed marvelously well-armed and was riding handsomely, and Sir Grumedan considered him very courageous to attempt such a great thing and wished him all the best. He would have thought even higher of him if he had known that he was Sir Florestan, whom he loved and esteemed greately.

When Sir Florestan saw Sir Grumedan before him, knowing that in the entire court there was no knight with greater knowledge of arms than him, his heart grew in ardor until no trace of cowardice could be felt in it. He rode to the shields and put the tip of his lance on the first and second and third and fourth and fifth, and he did this because thus they would have to joust one after the other according to the order in which the shields were touched.

This done, he rode the distance of the flight of an arrow into the field, hung his shield from his neck, took a good, thick lance, sat straight in the saddle, and waited. Whenever he could, Sir Florestan brought two or three squires to be better served so they could carry lances and battle axes, and he knew well how to use them, for in many lands another knight could not be found who jousted as well as he could.

The Romans were also waiting, armed in a tent, and hurried to mount and ride to him. Sir Grumedan told them:

“What is this, my lords? Do all of ye wish to charge together against one? That would violate the custom of these lands.”

Gradamor, a Roman knight who was in charge of the others, asked Sir Grumedan how they ought to do things, since he knew better than anyone. Sir Grumedan told him:

“In the order than the shields were touched, one after the other, the knights must go to joust. And if ye take my word, do not go wildly, for judging by the appearance of that knight, he will not wish to be dishonored.”

“Sir Grumedan,” Gradamor said, “the Romans are not like you, who praise yourselves before the deed. Even after we complete the deed, we let it be forgotten. That is why there are no knights who are our equal. May it please God that our fight with that knight be in accord with that, even if my companions do not lend a hand.”

Sir Grumedan told him:

“My lord, may what happens to that knight be as God pleases, and if he remains free and healthy after these jousts, that shall tell me whether what ye say is true. And if by chance he is impeded from doing so, I shall undertake the battle myself in the name of God. Now go to your joust, and if ye leave it well, we shall come before this noble Queen, so we shall not be able to back out of our agreement.”

Gradamor laughed with disdain and said:

“I wish we had that battle as close as this joust, if that the idiot knight waiting there dares to fight.” Then he said to the knight of the first shield that had been touched, “Go now and fight in a way that frees us from the little praise we would win from defeating that knight.”

“Relax,” the knight said, “for I shall bring you what ye wish, and his name shall be placed on his shield as the Emperor ordered us. And his horse, which looks good, shall be mine.”

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Chapter 69 [part 4 of 4]

[How King Lisuarte learned that Amadis had fought for him.] 

[A street in Granadilla leading to its castle. The town, in the province of Cáceres in western Spain, was founded in the 800s and became an important strategic and commercial location in the Middle Ages. Its present castle was built by the Duke of Alba in the 1470s. The town was abandoned in the 1960s after it was surrounded by the water of a new reservoir. Starting in the 1980s, it became a university student architectural rehabilitation workshop, and its former residents and their descendants visit twice a year for fiestas. Photo by Orlacos.] 
 
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So Sir Galaor and Norandel rode for three days, spending pleasant nights in towns, and on the fourth day they reached a town named Alfiad that was a seaport, and they found two ships traveling to Gaul. They boarded the ships and without delay they arrived where King Perion, Amadis, and Florestan were.

So it happened that, as Amadis was in Gaul preparing to go seek adventures to make up for the time he had spent there, during which his honor had been so diminished, each day he continued to ride along the seashore, looking at Great Britain, which held his desires and everything he valued.

One day he was riding with Sir Florestan, and they saw some boats coming, so they went there to learn the news. When they reached the shore, they saw Sir Galaor and Norandel getting into a skiff. Amadis recognized his brother and said:

“Holy Mary, that is our brother, Sir Galaor. May he be very welcome.” And he asked Sir Florestan, “Do ye know the one who is coming with him?”

“Yes,” he said, “that is Norandel, son of King Lisuarte, companion of Sir Galaor. And know that he is a very good knight, as he proved in the battle we had with his father at the Island of Mongaza, but he was not known as his son until after the great battle with the seven kings, when the King was pleased to have had him made known for his great skill.”

Amadis was very happy to have him as the brother of his lady and knew that she loved him, according to what Durin had told him. Then the knights arrived at the shore and came onto land, where they found Amadis and Florestan on foot, who welcomed them and embraced them repeatedly. They gave each of them a palfrey and left to see King Perion, who was riding out to receive them.

When they met, they wished to kiss the King’s hands, but he did not give them to Norandel. Instead, he embraced him and did him great honor, and brought them to the Queen, where they received no less honor.

Amadis, as I told you, was prepared to leave there in four days. The day before, he spoke with the King and his brothers, telling them how he needed to leave and take to the road the next day. The King said:

“My son, God knows the loneliness that I will feel, but not for that shall I keep you from going to gain honor and praise, as ye always do.”

Sir Galaor said:

“My lord brother, if it were not for a quest in which Norandel and I are involved and which we may not rightly set aside, we would give you company. But we must fulfill it or pass a year and a day trying, as is the custom in Great Britain.”

The King asked him:

“My son, what quest is this? May it be told?”

“Yes, my lord,” he said, “for we promised it in public, and it is this: know, my lord, that in the battle we had with the seven island kings, on the side of King Lisuarte there were three knights with the same dragon insignia, but their helmets were different, one white, one purple, and one gold. These knights did such marvelous feats at arms that we were all amazed, especially at the one who wore the gold helmet, whose skill I do not think could be equaled by anyone. In fact, it is believed that without them, King Lisuarte would not have been victorious. When the battle was won, all three left the field with their faces so well hidden that they could not be recognized, and because of what has been said about them, we have promised to find them and learn who they are.”

The King said:

“We have heard about those knights here, and may God give ye good news about them.”

So they spent the day until nightfall. Amadis took his father aside with Sir Florestan, and told them:

“My lord, I wish to leave tomorrow, and it seems to me that after I go, Sir Galaor should be told the truth about that which he seeks because his labor would be in vain without us, for no one else knows it. Show him the arms, which he will easily recognize.”

“Ye speak well,” the King said, “and so it shall be done.”

That night they were with the Queen and her daughter, and with many of their ladies and damsels, relaxing with great pleasure, but they all knew they would greatly miss Amadis, who wished to travel but no one knew where. After he bid farewell to all of them, they went to sleep.

The next day they all heard Mass and left with Amadis, who rode armed on horseback, with Gandalin and his dwarf and no one else to keep him company. The Queen gave Gandalin enough money to suffice for his lord for a year. Sir Florestan asked him very humbly to take him with him, but Amadis would not agree for two reasons: first, to be more free to think about his lady; and the other, because he hoped to achieve great undertakings alone so that he alone would achieve either glory or death.

When they had traveled a league, Amadis bid them farewell and took to the road, and the King and his sons returned to the town, where he spoke privately with his son Galaor and with Norandel, and told them:

“Ye are involved in a quest that if not here, then no where else in the world will ye find the answer, for which I give thanks to God for guiding you here to release you from great labor without success. Know now that the three knights with the dragon insignia whom ye seek are myself and Amadis and Sir Florestan. I wore the white helmet, Sir Florestan wore the purple one, and Amadis wore the gold one and did such great and extraordinary deeds as ye saw.”

He told them how they had agreed to go fight, and how Urganda sent them the arms. “And so ye may fully believe this and hold your adventure to be finished, come with me.”

He took them to another chamber, the armory, and showed them the arms with the dragon insignia damaged in many places by great blows, which they immediately recognized because they had seen them often in the battle, sometimes coming to their aid, and other times they had felt great envy over what their wearers were doing.

Sir Galaor said:

“My lord, God has done us a great mercy, as have ye, to save us from this quest because our concern was that with all our effort to look for the knights with these insignia, we might fall into a situation in which we could not escape from their anger without great shame and would have to engage them in a fight to the death and make them known to all. Although they did more in public than all others in the battle, in private they would be judged differently or die for it.”

“God has done better by His mercy,” the King said.

Norandel asked repeatedly for those arms, and with much more solemnity the King gave them to him. Then the King told the two how they had been imprisoned by Arcalaus, and by what fate they were able to get out. Tears came to Galaor’s eyes for his grief at such great danger, and he told what had happened with him and Norandel with Arcalaus, and how he had called himself Granfiles and escaped from them, and everything that happened with Dinarda, and how she remained in the castle, and what took place with Ambades, the host.

They spent fourteen days there relaxing, and, after saying goodbye to the King and Queen, they got on a ship, taking the arms with the dragon insignia, and with good weather sailed to Great Britain. They arrived at the town where King Lisuarte and the Queen were, disarmed in their lodging, and went to the palace to show him that their quest had been fulfilled, bringing him the arms with the dragon insignia on their surcoats.

They were well received by the King and everyone in court. Galaor told the King:

“My lord, if it pleases you, have us heard before the Queen.”

“Yes,” he said.

They immediately went to her chamber, and everyone followed to see what they brought. The Queen was pleased with their arrival, and they kissed her hands. Galaor said:

“My lords, ye know how Norandel and I left here on a quest to look for the three knights with the arms with the dragon insignia, who were in your battle and at your service. And God be praised, without effort we have found them, as Norandel shall show you.”

Then Norandel took the white helmet in his hands and said:

“My lord, do ye recognize this helmet?”

“Yes,” the King said. “Many times I saw it where I wished it would be.”

“This was worn on the head of King Perion, who loves you dearly.”

Then he took the purple one and said:

“Ye see here the one worn by Sir Florestan.”

He took the gold one and said:

“Ye see, my lord, this one, who did in your service what none other could do, and it was worn by Amadis. And of whether or not I am speaking the truth, ye are the best witness, for many times ye found yourself among them, they enjoying the fame and ye the victory.”

And he told them how King Perion and his sons came to the battle secretly, and why they had left afterwards without being recognized, and how they were imprisoned by Arcalaus and how they left, burning the castle, and how he and Sir Galaor found Arcalaus in the stretcher, and how he escaped calling himself Granfiles, cousin of Sir Grumedan, at which they all laughed, including Sir Grumedan, who was there, saying that he was very happy to find himself in such a debt he had not known about.

The King asked many questions about King Perion, and Norandel told him:

“Believe, my lord, that in the whole world there is no king with as much land who is his equal.”

“And nothing shall be lost,” Sir Grumedan said, “with such sons.”

The King was quiet so as not to praise Galaor, who was present, or the others with whom he was still not pleased, but he ordered the arms put in a glass case in his palace where the arms of other famous men were kept.

Sir Galaor and Norandel spoke with Oriana and Mabilia, and gave them the greetings and courtesies of Queen Elisena and her daughter, which were received by them with great affection, since they loved each other dearly. They felt great sorrow when they were told that Amadis had left alone to go to foreign lands of diverse languages to seek the most mighty and dangerous adventures. Then they went to their lodgings and the King remained speaking with his knights about many things.

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Chapter 69 [part 1 of 4]

How the knights with the dragon-insignia arms embarked for the Kingdom of Gaul, and how fortune placed them where their lives were put in great danger at the hands of Arcalaus the Sorcerer by trickery; and how, after they had escaped, they embarked and continued their voyage; and how Sir Galaor and Norandel happened to come down that same road looking for adventure, and what happened to them. 

 [Three kings portrayed in the Taymouth Book of Hours, made in England in the second quarter of the 14th century, now at the British Library.] 

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King Perion and his sons rested in the forest for several days, and when they saw that the weather was good and the sea favorable, they immediately embarked on their ship, expecting to be in Gaul soon. But it happened otherwise, for the wind changed and made the sea rough, so they had to return to Great Britain, but not to where they had been but to another more distant place. After five stormy days, the ship arrived at the foot of a mountain alongside the sea. They had their horses and arms brought to shore so they could travel through that land until the sea became more calm and the wind blew favorably, while their men replenished the fresh water in the ship.

After they had eaten, they armed themselves, mounted their horses, and rode inland to learn where they had landed. They ordered the men in the ship to wait for them, and brought three squires with them, but Gandalin did not accompany them because he was well-known in those parts.

So as ye hear, they rode up a valley and found a plain at its end, and they did not travel far before they met a damsel who was letting her horse drink at a spring. She was richly dressed and wore a scarlet cape with golden buckles and loops to hold it closed. Two squires and two damsels accompanied her, and they brought falcons and dogs for hunting.

When she saw them, she immediately recognized the dragon insignia on their arms and came very happily toward them. When she arrived, she greeted them with great humility, showing with signs that she was mute. They greeted her, and they thought she looked very beautiful and felt pity for her for being mute. She came to the knight with the gold helmet and embraced him, and wanted to kiss his hands, and soon invited them by signs to come as guests that night to her castle. But they did not understand, and she motioned to her squires to explain, and they did.

They good will in her, and because it was very late, they went with her in good faith, and had not traveled far before they arrived at a beautiful castle. Believing the damsel was very rich, since she was its lady, they entered and found that the staff received them humbly, as did other ladies and damsels, and they all honored the mute damsel as their lady.

They took their horses and led them up to a beautiful chamber about twenty cubits above the ground. They had them disarm, brought them rich capes to wear, and after having them converse with the mute damsel and other damsels, brought them dinner, and they were well served. The damsels went to their rooms but soon returned with many candles and well-tuned instruments to give them pleasure, and when it was time to sleep, they stopped playing and left.

In that chamber there were three very rich beds that the mute damsel had ordered made, and they each placed their arms next to their bed. They lay down and slept very peacefully, as those who had done hard work and were fatigued.

But while their spirits rested, their lives did not, due to the dangerous trap they had fallen into, which may be justly compared to the things of this world. Know ye that the chamber was made with trickery, and it was supported by an iron  pillar like a threaded beam that could be lowered like a screw. It was enclosed by another wooden pillar, and the room could be raised or lowered from beneath by turning a steel lever around it, for the chamber did not have its own walls. So when they awoke in the morning, they found themselves twenty cubits lower than they were when they entered the chamber.

We could compare this beautiful mute damsel to the world in which we live, which seems beautiful to us, and without mouth or tongue flatters and praises us, tempting us with many delights and pleasures, and without a single suspicion we follow her and embrace her. We forget the anguish and tribulations in the place that is being prepared for us after we have pursued and enjoyed these things. We sleep with restful dreams, and when we awake, having passed from life to death – although we ought to say from death to life, for being everlasting – we find ourselves in a great pit, now far away from the great mercy of the most high Lord, and no redemption in any form awaits us.

If these knights had redemption, it was because they still had life, and while alive, no one however evil or sinful he or she may be ought to lose hope for pardon by leaving aside vile deeds and instead acting in conformance with the service of the Lord, who can give them redemption.

Returning to the tale of these three knights, when they awoke and saw no hint of light and heard the footsteps of the people of the castle above them, they were surprised, and they got out of bed and groped for the door and windows. When they found them, they reached through them and touched the walls of the castle, so they knew they had been betrayed and fooled.

As they felt great grief to see themselves in such danger, high up in a window of the chamber appeared a large, muscular knight with a fearsome face whose beard and hair had more white hairs than black. He wore mourning clothes and a white cloth glove on his right hand that reached his elbow. He shouted:

“Who lies down there in such an ill place? Due to the great harm ye have done me, ye shall find not restraint and mercy but cruel and bitter deaths, and even with that I shall not be avenged for what I received from you in the battle with the traitorous King Lisuarte. Know that I am Arcalaus the Sorcerer, and if ye have never seen me, now ye shall know me, for no one has ever done me harm upon whom I did not avenge myself, except for one man whom I hope to have where you are now, to cut off his hands as he cut off one of mine, if I do not die first.”

And the damsel, who was at his side, said:

“Good uncle, that youth there is the one who wore the gold helmet.” And she pointed at Amadis.

When they learned that he was Arcalaus, they felt the terror of death as well as surprise at hearing speech from the mute damsel who had brought them there. And know ye that this damsel was named Dinarda, the daughter of Ardan Canileo, and she was skilled at evil. She had come to that land to use trickery to kill Amadis, and that was why she had pretended to be mute.

Arcalaus told them:

“Knights, I shall have your heads cut off in my presence and sent to King Aravigo to make some amends for your disservice to him.”

He left the window and had it closed, and the chamber was so dark they could not see each other. King Perion said:

“My good sons, we find ourselves shown one of the great turns of fortune. We survived a battle where so many knights fell, where we experienced so many dangers, and where we emerged with so much fame and glory, but who would have thought we would be fooled like this by a weak damsel without language or speech? Truly, it may seem amazing to those who place their hopes in worldly and perishable things without thinking of how little they are worth and how little they should be valued. But to us, who have been tested many times by experience, it ought not seem strange or grievous, because our chief cause is to seek adventure, both good and bad, and we ought to take them as they come, using our effort to resolve them, and those we cannot we must leave to the most high Lord in whom power is eternal. Thus, my sons, leaving aside the great sorrow that our humanity brings us, you for me, and even more me for you, let us leave it to God to resolve this so we may be in His greater service.”

His sons, who held their father’s devotion as greater than the menace and danger they were in, were joyous when they felt the great strength within him. They knelt and kissed his hands, and he blessed them. And, as ye hear, they passed the day without food or drink.

After Arcalaus had dined and part of the night had passed, he came to the window where they were, bringing two lit candles, Dinarda, and two old men. He ordered the window opened and said:

“Ye knights that lay there, I think ye would wish to eat if ye had something.”

“Happily,” Sir Florestan said, “if ye were to order it given to us.”

He said:

“If that were my will, may God take it from me. But I do not wish to leave you with nothing, so instead of food I will give you some news. Know that today, after night fell, two squires and a dwarf came to the gate of the castle and asked about the knights with the dragon insignia on their shields. I ordered them taken captive and put into a prison below you. Tomorrow I will find out from them who you are, or I will have them cut apart limb from limb.”

Know ye that what Arcalaus said was the truth. The men in the ship were concerned that the King and his sons had not returned, for the sea was ready for sailing, and decided that Gandalin, the dwarf, and Orfeo, the King’s butler, should look for them. They had been imprisoned as Arcalaus had said. This news weighed heavily on the King and his sons because they were in grave danger.

Amadis told Arcalaus:

“I am very certain that after ye know who we are, ye shall not do us such ill as before, because as ye are a knight and have much experience, what we did to help our friends would not seem wrong nor unseemly to you, just as we would have helped you if we had been on your side. And since we did rightly, we ought to be regarded better and treated with more honor now, although in battle we deserved the opposite. But by keeping us prisoners and treating us like this, ye do us no courtesy.”

“Who are you to dispute this?” Arcalaus said. “The honor I shall show you is the same I would show to Amadis of Gaul if I were to have him here, for of all the men in the world, he is the one I wish the worst and upon whom I wish to avenge myself the most.”

Dinarda said:

“Uncle, although you will send their heads to King Aravigo, do not kill them with hunger. Keep them alive because that way they will suffer more.”

“If that is how it seems to you, niece,” he said, “that is what I shall do.” Then he said, “Knights, tell me which troubles you more, hunger or thirst.”

“Well, to tell the truth,” they said, “although eating were more primary, thirst troubles us greatly.”

“Then,” Arcalaus said to the damsel, “niece, give them a salt-pork pastry so they cannot say we gave them no succor for their need.”

And he left along with the others. The damsel had seen that Amadis was very handsome, and knowing the great deeds of chivalry he had done in the battle, she was moved to pity for him and the other men. She put a flagon of water and a flagon of wine and a pastry in a basket, lowered it by a cord to give it to them and said:

“Take this and keep my secret, and if I can, ye shall not suffer.”

Amadis thanked her sincerely, and she left. With that they ate, lay down in their beds, and ordered their squires to keep their arms in good condition, for if they did not die of hunger, they would not give up their lives without great cost to their captors.

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Chapter 68 [part 3 of 4]

[Which tells how the battle began, and how King Aravigo’s troops had the advantage and steadily gained ground.] 

[A fragment from an early 1400s Spanish version of the legend of Tristan and Iseult, from the Biblioteca Nacional de España. The fragments were discovered in the binding of a collection of works about canonical law from the 15th century. Old parchments were often used for bookbinding.]
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King Lisuarte and his men camped on a hill a half-league from the field where his enemies were. Each side saw the other, and there were at least twice as many men with the seven kings. King Lisuarte’s company spent the night preparing their weapons and horses for the battle the next day.

Know ye that six of the kings and other great lords paid tribute that night to King Aravigo for leading the confrontation, and they pledged to be guided by his orders. He swore he would not take a greater part of the kingdom than any of them, for he only wanted honor for himself. Then they had their men move to a river between themselves and King Lisuarte to be closer.

The next morning they all armed themselves and came before King Aravigo so numerous and with such fine weapons that they held their opponents to be as nothing. And they said that since King Lisuarte had dared to do battle with them, Great Britain was theirs. King Aravigo divided his men into nine divisions, each with a thousand knights, but his division had one thousand five hundred. He gave the divisions to the kings and other knights, and arranged them in close formation.

King Lisuarte ordered Sir Grumedan, Sir Galaor, Sir Cuadragante, and Angriote d’Estravaus to divide his men and arrange them on the field ready to fight, since these men knew a great deal about everything regarding the use of arms. Then they rode down the hill onto the plain. It was sunrise, and the sun sparkled on their armor. They looked so well-prepared that their opponents, who had held them for little, thought differently of them.

These knights of whom I tell ye had been placed into five divisions. Brian of Monjaste had the first one with a thousand knights from Spain at his orders, whom his father had sent to King Lisuarte. King Cildadan had the second division with his men and others who had been given to him. Sir Galvanes had the third with his nephew Agrajes, who came there more for the love of his uncle and his friends than to serve the King.

Giontes, nephew of the King, went with the fourth, with exceptionally good knights. King Lisuarte led the fifth, with two thousand knights, and he asked and ordered Sir Galaor, Sir Cuadragante, and Angriote d’Estravaus to protect him and stand by him. For that reason, he did not place them in charge of any troops.

So, as ye hear, arranged thus, they slowly advanced across the field at each other. And then King Perion and his sons Amadis and Florestan arrived at the plain on their handsome horses and bearing the arms with dragon insignia, which gleamed in the sun. They rode forward to place themselves between the two armies, brandishing their lances with iron tips so polished that they were bright as stars. The father rode between his two sons.

Men in both armies stared at them and each side wished to have them among their troops, but no one knew whom they meant to help nor who they were. When the three saw that Brian of Monjaste’s division was going to meet the enemy, they spurred their horses and rode close to Brian’s standard. Then they turned toward King Targadan, who was coming at him.

Sir Brian was happy for their help, although he did not know who they were. When they saw it was the right time, all three went to attack King Targadan’s division so fiercely that everyone felt terror. In the charge, King Perion struck that King so hard that he knocked him to the ground and part of the iron of his lance entered his chest. Amadis attacked Abdasian the Brave, whose armor did not protect him, and the lance passed from one side of his ribs to the other, and he fell as a dead man. Sir Florestan knocked Carduel to the feet of his horse with the saddle on top of him. Those three, as the most esteemed of the division, had come forward to fight with the dragon-insignia knights.

Then Amadis, King Perion, and Sir Florestan put their hands on their swords and passed through the first division knocking down many whom they encountered, then attacked the second division. And when they found themselves amid both, ye would have been able to see the great wonders they did with their swords, so much that not on one side or the other was there a man who equaled them, and ten knights whom they had brought down lay beneath their horses’ hooves.

But eventually, when their opponents saw they were only three men, they charged at them with great blows from every side, so the help of Sir Brian of Monjaste was clearly needed. He immediately came with his Spaniards, who were strong men with good horses. They attacked so fiercely, knocking down and killing men, and they themselves dying and falling on the ground, that the knights with the dragon insignia were rescued and their opponents put in such danger that the struggle brought those two columns into contact with a third.

There was a great melee that put everyone in danger, and many knights on both sides died, but what King Perion and his sons did cannot be recounted. The struggle was so great that King Aravigo feared that his own men, who had retreated, would make the others flee, and he shouted to Arcalaus to move all the divisions and, with a sudden charge, break through.

And so it happened. They all charged together and King Aravigo with them, but it did not take long for King Lisuarte to do the same. So all were battling at once, and the injuries were many, and the shouting and the noise of the knights so great that the earth shook and the valleys echoed.

At this time King Perion, who was riding bravely at the front line, suddenly entered into the enemy ranks and would have been lost, but he was immediately aided by his sons, and many of those who attacked Perion were killed by them. The damsels in the tower shouted:

“There, knights, the one in the white helmet is the best!”

But Amadis’s horse was killed as he came to help, and it fell with him in the middle of the battle, and his father’s and brother’s horses were badly injured. When they saw him on foot in such great peril, they dismounted and came to him. Then many men charged to kill them, and others to help them, yet they were in great danger, and were it not for the hard and cruel blows that they offered so that none dared to near them, they would have been killed.

As King Lisuarte rode from one battle to another, with his seven companions whom ye have heard about, he saw the knights with the dragon insignia in great danger, and he said to Sir Galaor and the others:

“Now, my good friends, let us show our skills and save those who have helped us so well.”

“Now, have at them!” Sir Galaor said.

Then they spurred their horses and charged into the middle of that great battle until they reached the standard of King Aravigo, who was shouting to encourage his men. King Lisuarte was exceedingly brave, and with his good sword in his hand, giving so many mortal blows that everyone was frightened to see it, and his guards could hardly keep up. And despite the many who attacked him, they could not prevent him from reaching the standard, grabbing it from the hands of the man who held it, and throwing it at the feet of the horses. He shouted:

“Clarence, Clarence, for I am King Lisuarte,” invoking his surname.

He did so much for so long among his enemies that they killed his horse and he fell and was so badly stunned that those who guarded him could not put him on another horse. But immediately Angriote, Antimon the Brave, and Landin of Fajarque arrived. They dismounted and put him on Angriote’s horse to the consternation of his enemies and with the help of those who guarded him. And although he was badly injured and shaken, he did not leave there until Antimon and Landin of Fajarque had mounted and brought another horse for Angriote from those that the King had ordered to circulate through the battle to help his knights.

Meanwhile, Sir Galaor and Cuadragante, in the midst of the thickest part of the battle and the greatest danger, showed well their courage by suffering and giving mortal blows. Know ye that if it were not for them, through their great effort to prevent enemy troops from reaching King Lisuarte and those with him while they were on foot, the King and his guards would have found themselves in great danger.

The damsels in the tower shouted that those two knights with the flower insignia were fighting the best.

But none of this could keep King Aravigo’s men from having the advantage and steadily gaining ground. The principal cause was that two well-rested knights had begun to fight. They were of such great deeds at arms and so valiant that they thought they could defeat their enemies because they believed that King Lisuarte’s men had no knight who could hold the field against them.

One was named Brontaxar d’Anfania and the other Argomades of the Deep Isle. He bore green arms with white doves scattered across them, and Brontaxar’s had gold and red cups. When they entered into battle, they seemed so tall that their helmets and shoulders stood out above the rest, and while their lances lasted, no knight remained in his saddle. When their lances were broken, they put their hands on their uncommonly large swords. What shall I tell you? They delivered such great blows with them that soon they hardly found anyone to attack, so hard had they dealt out punishment with those swords to all.

So they cleared the field, and the damsels in the tower called out:

“Knights, do not flee. They are men, not devils.”

But the men on the side of Brontaxar and Argomades shouted:

“King Lisuarte is defeated!”

When the King heard this, he began to encourage his men, saying:

“Here I shall remain, dead or victorious, so the sovereignty of Great Britain shall not be lost.”

All the remaining knights came to him, as they ought. Amadis took another horse that was very good and rested, and waited for his father to mount. When he heard those shouts saying that King Lisuarte was defeated, he said to Sir Florestan, who rode beside him:

“What is this? Why are these despicable men braying?”

Florestan responded:

“Do ye not see those two mighty and valiant knights who done nothing but devastate and destroy all that they find? Although they did not appear in this battle until now, with their strength they are making the men on their side gain ground.”

Amadis turned his head and saw Brontaxar d’Anfania coming toward him, attacking and felling knights with his sword. Sometimes he let it hang from a chain with which it was attached, and he grabbed the knights who approached with his arms and hands, so that not one remained in his saddle, and all the rest fled from him.

“Holy Mary, help us!” Amadis said. “How can this be?”

Then he took a sturdy lance from the squire who had given him the horse, and thinking of Oriana and the great loss she would suffer if her father were defeated, he sat up straight in his saddle and said to Sir Florestan:

“Protect our father.”

By then Brontaxar had neared and saw how Amadis, in a gold helmet, was charging straight at him. Because of the great deeds that Brontaxar had been told about him before joining the battle, he had furiously searched for him. He immediately took a very heavy lance and shouted:

“Now ye shall see a beautiful blow if that knight in the gold helmet dares to approach me.”

With his lance under his arm, he spurred his horse and rode at him, and Amadis, who had already begun to charge, did the same. Their lances struck their shields, which were pierced and the lances were broken, and their horses’ bodies struck each other so hard that it seemed to each knight that they had struck a rocky peak. Brontaxar hit his head and felt so faint he could not maintain himself on his horse and fell to the ground as if he were dead. His great weight fell twisted onto one foot, and his leg broke beneath him, and he carried a piece of lance stuck in his shield, although it was strong.

Amadis’s horse bucked backwards twice and was about to fall. Amadis was so stunned he could not spur his horse or put his hand on his sword to defend himself from those who were attacking him. But King Perion, who had by then mounted a horse and had seen the enormous knight and how Amadis had met him so hard, was very frightened and said:

“My Lord God, protect that knight. Now, my son Florestan, let us come to his aid.”

Then they charged so bravely that it was amazing to see them, and they entered into the melee, attacking and striking down knights until they reached Amadis. The King told him:

“What is this, knight? Be strong, be strong, for I am here.”

Amadis recognized the voice of his father, and although he was not entirely aware of his surroundings, he put his hand on his sword and, as he saw that many knights were attacking his father and brother, began to strike at those knights, although weakly.

At this point there was nothing for them but danger because the opposing men were very spirited and King Lisuarte’s men had lost a lot of ground. Many had come to kill those three, and few had come in their defense. But then Agrajes, Sir Galvanes, and Brian of Monjaste arrived, rushing to find Brontaxar d’Anfania, who had caused so much havoc, as ye have heard, and they saw the three knights with the dragon insignia in combat. They came to their aid as those who in any kind of danger never lose heart, and as they arrived, they killed or brought down many of their opponents. Thus the knights with the dragon insignia were able to attack more fiercely and with less danger.

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