Chapter 67 [part 2 of 2]

[In which the war was brought to a close, but not in the way King Lisuarte would have preferred, due to trouble elsewhere.] 

 [Tour San-Nicolas, which guards the inner harbor of the old port of La Rochelle, France, the site of a siege and naval battle between Great Britain and Castile in 1372. Photo by Miles O'Reilly.] 
 
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Then the King spurred his horse and entered the fray without fear of death. When he saw Sir Cuadragante come at him, he turned his horse toward him, and they struck each other on the tops of their helmets so hard that they had to grab the necks of their horses. But as the King had a much better sword, it cut so deeply that it caused a head wound. But immediately they were aided: the King by Sir Galaor and Norandel and those who were with him; and Sir Cuadragante by Sir Florestan and Angriote d’Estravaus.

The King, when he saw the amazing feats of Sir Florestan, went at him and struck such a blow with his sword on the head of his horse that it fell with him on it among the knights. The blow was quickly repaid, for Florestan leaped from his horse and went at the King, and although many men guarded him and he only reached the leg of the horse, he cut it in half and it fell to the ground. The King jumped off it with such agility that Sir Florestan was amazed. Lisuarte gave Sir Florestan two blows with his good sword, and the armor could not stop it from cutting the flesh.

But Sir Florestan, remembering how he had once been Lisuarte’s knight and the honors he had received, let himself be attacked, covering himself with what little remained of his shield. The King, with great anger, did not cease to attack in any way he could. Not even at that did Sir Florestan wish to strike back and instead grabbed him by the arms and would not let him mount a horse or break free. A great fight broke out between one side and the other to help them, and the King shouted his name so his men would recognize him. Galaor came, called by those shouts, reached the King, and said:

“My lord, take my horse.”

Also with him on foot were Filispinel and Brandoivas, who wanted to give him their horses. Galaor told the King:

“My lord, take my horse.”

But to keep Galaor from dismounting, the King took Filispinel’s horse, leaving Sir Florestan badly injured by his good sword, for he had not given a blow that did not cut armor and flesh, while Florestan did not wish to strike back, as has been said. Sir Florestan was put on a horse that Sir Cuadragante brought him.

The King, freely placing his body before every danger, called Sir Galaor, Norandel, and King Cildadan, and the men who followed them, and entered into the thick of battle, attacking and causing devastation to everything he met, so the situation of his side improved due to him. Sir Florestan, Cuadragante, and Gavarte, and other fine knights, resisted the King and his men as best they could, doing wonders at arms, but they were few and many of them were in bad shape and injured. The opponents were a great crowd of men who had taken heart at the courage of the King, and they charged suddenly and so hard that by their blows and the strength of their horses they pushed their opponents from the field against the foothills of the mountains.

There Sir Florestan, Cuadragante, Angriote, and Gavarte of the Fearsome Valley, their armor in pieces, suffering many injuries not only from helping their side but in their attempt to regain lost ground, their horses dead and themselves almost dead, lay on the field under the power of the King and his men. Palomir, Elian the Vigorous, Branfil, Enil, Sarquiles, and Maratros of Lisanda, cousin of Sir Florestan, who had tried to rescue them, were taken prisoner. There were many dead and injured on both sides.

Sir Galvanes would have been lost many times if Dragonis had not rescued him with his men. But in the end they took him from the fray so badly injured that he could not remain on his horse, and so, senseless, they took him to Boiling Lake. He remained there with the small company that had escaped, defending the mountain from their opponents.

Thus it could be said very rightly that by the fortitude of the King and the great foolishness of Sir Florestan in not wanting to strike or harm the King when he had him in his power, this battle was won, as ye have heard.

It should be compared to the mighty Hector’s first battle against the Greeks when they were attempting to disembark in the great port of Troy. After the Greeks were almost defeated and much of their fleet was on fire and their men could fight no more, in the great melee Hector happened upon his cousin Ajax Talamon, son of his aunt Ansiona, fighting with the Greeks. Hector recognized him and embraced him, and Ajax asked him to withdraw the Trojans from the fight and return to the city, relinquishing the victory he held in his hands. Because of that, the Greeks landed, fortified their camp, and with many deaths and fires and great destruction, those mighty men defeated and destroyed that famous city, renowned throughout the world, which shall never be forgotten as long as the world shall last.

Thus it should be learned that in such battles, pity and courtesy have no place neither with friend nor family until victory has finally been achieved, for in such times men often have blessings and good fortune but do not know how to use them properly, and instead give aid to those who were losing, who then take those advantages as their own.

Returning to the matter at hand, when King Lisuarte saw his enemies driven from the field and into the mountains, at sunset he ordered that none of his men advance, and placed guards because Dragonis, who was among the men who had sought safety in the mountains, had taken the most defendable passes. He ordered his tents be brought from where they had been and set up at the bank of a stream that came down the foothills of the mountain.

He ordered King Cildadan and Sir Galaor be brought to him, but he was told that they were in great sorrow because Sir Florestan and Sir Cuadragante were injured to the point of death. Since the King was on foot, he asked for a horse, more to go and console them than with thoughts of getting aid for those knights, for they were his opponents. However, he was moved to pity remembering how Sir Florestan, in the battle with King Cildadan, put his bare head before his own and took a great blow from the valiant Gadancuriel on his shield to it would not reach the King. He also remembered how on that very day Florestan had allowed himself to be injured out of virtue.

He went to where they were, consoled them with heart-felt words, and left them content, having ordered medical care. This had not been enough to keep Sir Galaor from repeatedly fainting over his brother Sir Florestan. But the King had them be brought to a very good tent and his doctors attend to them. He brought King Cildadan with him but gave Sir Galaor permission to stay with them that night. He also had those seven knights who had been taken prisoner, as ye have heard, be taken to the same tent to receive care with the others. And so, as ye hear, those injured and unconscious knights and prisoners were watched over by Sir Galaor. Mostly with the help of God, as well as of the doctors who were very skilled, before dawn they were all conscious, and the doctors promised Sir Galaor that they would all recover and be turned over to him healthy, each according to his wounds.

The next day Norandel and Sir Guilan the Pensive were with Sir Galaor to provide him company in his sadness over the condition of his brother and others in his lineage, they heard bugles and trumpets sound at the tent of the King, which was the signal for the men to arm. They bound their wounds well so they would not bleed, armed themselves, mounted their horses, went there, and found the King with new arms on horseback.

He was speaking with King Arban of North Wales, King Cildadan and Sir Grumedan about how to attack the knights who were in the mountains. They considered various ideas. Some said that since their own men were in bad shape, it was unreasonable to attack their enemies until they had recovered. Others said that since they all still burned with ire, it would be bad to wait longer, especially if Agrajes were to return from Little Brittany, where he had gone for food and more men, from which their opponents would draw strength. The King asked Sir Galaor what he thought, and he said:

“My lord, if your men are in bad shape and tired, so are your opponents, and since they are few and we are many, it would be good if we attacked immediately.”

“So it shall be done,” the King said.

Then he gathered up his men and attacked the mountain with Sir Galaor in the lead and his companion Norandel following him, and all the rest behind them. Although Dragonis and his men defended the passes and heights in the mountains for some time, so many crossbows and archers fired that many of them were injured and they were forced to give way. The knights rode up, and they fought a very perilous battle. But in the end they could not withstand so many men and were forced to retreat to the town and castle.

The King immediately arrived, and ordered his tent and supplies brought, and surrounded them and set up a siege, and ordered the fleet to come and besiege the castle by sea.

Because it does not serve this story to recount the things that happened there, since the tale is about Amadis, who did not fight in this war, this account will end here. Know only that the King had them under siege for thirteen months by land and sea, and they received no help because Agrajes was ill and did not have the equipment to attack the King’s great fleet.

Since those inside lacked food, both sides began to bargain that the King would release all his prisoners and Sir Galvanes would do the same with his, and that they would deliver the town and castle of Boiling Lake to the King for a ceasefire of two years. Although this was of great advantage to the King, he was in a secure position and would not have agreed except that he had received letters from his uncle, the Count of Agramonte, who had remained on land, telling how all the kings of the islands had rebelled against King Lisuarte, since he was away at war. They had taken as their leader and chieftain King Aravigo, lord of the Landas islands, who was the most powerful among them. All this had been the work of Arcalaus the Sorcerer, who had personally visited all those islands to unite them in the uprising, convincing them they would meet no defense and could divide the Kingdom of Great Britain among themselves. The Count of Agramonte advised the King to leave everything and return to his kingdom.

This news made the King agree to what was not his will, which was to take and kill all his opponents. When the agreement was reached, the King, accompanied by many of his noblemen, went to the town, whose gates were found open, and from there to the castle. Sir Galvanes came out with some knights who were with him, and with Madasima, tears falling down her beautiful cheeks. He came to the King and gave him the keys, and said:

“My lord, do with this as you will.”

The King took them and gave them to Brandoivas. Galaor came to Lisuarte and said:

“My lord, moderation and mercy are called for, and if I have served you, remember it now.”

“Sir Galaor,” the King said, “if I were to consider the services ye have done for me, I could not reward you even if I were worth a thousand times what I am. What I shall do here will not be counted among that which I owe you.”

Then he said:

“Sir Galvanes, ye took this by force against my will, and by force I won it back. I freely wish that by your worth, the goodness of Madasima, and Sir Galaor’s insistence, that this be yours, remaining in my realm, and you remain in my service, as your descendants shall also be.”

“My lord,” Sir Galvanes said, “since fate has not allowed me to have it by the means my heart desired and since I have done everything I should have in every way, I accept your mercy with the condition that as long as I possess this I shall be your vassal, and if my heart desires something else, I shall return it to you freely, and I shall be free to do what I wish.”

Then the King’s knights kissed his hands for what he had done, and Sir Galvanes and Madasima kissed his hands as his vassals.

With the war over, King Lisuarte decided to return promptly to his kingdom, and so he did, after resting for two weeks so that he and all the others who were injured were recovered. He took Sir Galvanes and the others who wished to go with him, and boarded his fleet. They sailed the sea and made port in his lands, where they learned the news that the seven kings were coming for him.

And although this troubled him greatly, he did not let his men know that. Instead he acted as if it were nothing. He left the port and went to where the Queen was, who received him with the same true love that he had for her. He learned there that the news that the kings were coming was true, so he had no time to rest and enjoy the company of the Queen and his daughter. With his knights, he prepared the things he would need for that confrontation.

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Chapter 67 [part 1 of 2]

In which is recounted the cruel battle between King Lisuarte and his men, and Sir Galvanes and his companions; and the King’s generosity and grandeur after their defeat, giving the land to Sir Galvanes and Madasima, making them vassals for as long as they lived there.

[View of the Castelo dos Mouros in Sintra, Portugal. Photo by Duca696.] 
 
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As ye have heard, King Lisuarte disembarked in the port of the island of Mongaza, where he found that King Arban of North Wales and his men had retreated to a camp on some rocky peaks. Lisuarte ordered them to descend immediately and join the men he had brought. He learned that Sir Galvanes and his companions, who had been at Burning Lake, had crossed the mountains, and that they were preparing to do battle.

Lisuarte and all his men immediately began to move toward them as fast as possible, and he encouraged them as much as he could, as he who was accompanied by the best knights in the world. They traveled until they were a league away from their opponents on the bank of a river, and there they stopped to spend the night. When daylight broke, they all heard Mass and armed themselves, and the King split his men into three divisions.

The first was of five hundred knights with Sir Galaor, and among them were his companion Norandel, Sir Guilan the Pensive and his cousin Ladasin, Grimeo the Valiant, Cendil of Ganota, and Nocoran of the Fearful Bridge, the very good jouster.

The second division he gave to King Cildadan with seven hundred knights. Among them were Ganides of Gantoa, the King’s nephew Acedis, Gradasonel Fillistre, Brandoivas, Tasian, and Filispinel, all of them well-esteemed knights.

In the middle division went Sir Grumedan of Norway and the knights who had come with King Arban of North Wales, who were charged with protecting the King and no other duties. So they moved through the field, exceptionally splendid and well-armed men, and so many bugles and trumpets sounded that one could hardly hear. They took up positions on a level field, and behind the King rode Baladan and Leonis with thirty knights.

Sir Galvanes and the high noblemen who were with him learned of this and of the state and number of King Lisuarte’s troops, and how there were five of Lisuarte’s men for every one of their own. Their numbers were depleted by the imprisonment of Sir Brian of Monjaste and the departure of Agrajes to bring provisions that they needed. But they were not dismayed by that. Instead, Galvanes inspired his men with great courage, whose numbers were few but they had done great feats at arms, as this story has told.

They agreed to create two divisions, one with one hundred and six knights, and the other with  one hundred and nine. In the first one rode Sir Florestan, Sir Cuadragante, Angriote d’Estravaus, his brother Grovedan, his nephew Sarquiles, and his brother-in-law Gasinan, who carried the pennant of the damsels. Near the pennant rode Branfil and the faithful Gavarte of the Fearful Valley, Olivas, Balais of Carsante, and Enil, the good knight whom Beltenebros brought to the battle with King Cildadan.

In the other division rode Sir Galvanes and with him the two good brothers Palomir and Dragonis, Listoran of the Tower, Dandales of Sadoca, and Tantalis the Proud. Ahead of the divisions came some archers and men with crossbows. With this highly unequal company compared to the King’s great numbers, they rode into the level field where the others were waiting.

Sir Florestan and Sir Cuadragante called Elian the Vigorous, who was one of the best-looking knights and better armed than most of the rest, and told him to go to King Lisuarte with two other knights who were his cousins, and to tell him that if he would order the crossbows and archers to be removed from between the divisions of knights, they would have one of the most beautiful battles ever seen. These three immediately went to fulfill their orders, and when they had ridden ahead of the troops, they seemed so handsome that everyone watched them. And know that Elian the Vigorous was the nephew of Sir Cuadragante, son of his sister and Count Liquedo, first-cousin of King Perion of Gaul.

When they arrived at the first division led by Sir Galaor, they asked for safe conduct, for they were coming with a message for the King. Sir Galaor gave them assurance and sent Cendil of Ganota with them to protect them from the others. When they came before the King, they said:

“My lord, Sir Florestan and Sir Cuadragante and the other knights who are there to defend the lands of Madasima, sent us to you to say that if it pleases you, take away the crossbows and archers between us, and ye shall see a beautiful battle.”

“In the name of God,” the King said, “remove yours, and Cendil of Ganota shall withdraw mine.”

This was done at once, and the three knights returned to their company, and Cendil went to Sir Galaor to tell him why they had come to see the King. Then the divisions moved toward each other so close that there were not three flights of arrows between them. Sir Galaor recognized his brother by the insignia on his armor, as well as Sir Cuadragante and Gavarte of the Fearful Valley, who rode ahead of their men. He said to Norandel:

“My good friend, do ye see there where those three knights are together, the best that a man could find? The one with the scarlet shield with white lions is Sir Florestan, and the one with the indigo shield with golden flowers and purple lions is Angriote d’Estravaus, and the one who has an indigo field with silver flowers is Sir Cuadragante. The one ahead of the others, with the green shield, is Gavarte of the Fearful Valley, the very good knight who killed the dragon, which is how he got his name. Now we shall attack them.”

Then they rode with their lances lowered, covered by their shields, and the three opposing knights prepared for them. Norandel spurred his horse and went straight at Gavarte of the Fearful Valley and struck him so hard that he threw him from his horse onto the ground with the saddle on top of him. This was the first blow that he did, and it was held by all as a very fine beginning.

Sir Galaor met with Sir Cuadragante, and both struck so hard that they and their horses went to the ground. Cendil struck Elian the Vigorous, and although their lances broke and they were injured, they remained on their horses.

At this time all the divisions began to fight each other, and the noise of the shouting and the blows was so great that the bugles and trumpets could not be heard. Many knights were killed or injured, and others knocked from their horses. Great rage and anger grew in the hearts of both sides. But most of the men went to protect Sir Galaor or Sir Cuadragante, who were fighting hard and hand-to-hand, attacking with swords to defeat each other, and they put fear into all who saw them.

By then on one side and the other more than one hundred knights had dismounted to help them and give them their horses, but Sir Galaor and Sir Cuadragante were fighting so closely and so fiercely that they could not be separated. What Norandel and Guilan the Pensive was doing for Sir Galaor could not be told to you, nor what Sir Florestan and Angriote was doing for Sir Cuadragante, and as there were more men on their side, they charged, but the blows were so dangerous that they gave way and did not dare to confront them.

But in the end so many were fighting each other that Sir Galaor and Sir Cuadragante had time to mount their horses. Then they attacked like enraged lions, knocking down and injuring all those before them, and each one helping his side.

At that moment King Cildadan attacked with his division so bravely that many knights went to the ground on both sides, but Sir Galvanes immediately came to the aid of his men and attacked his opponents so fiercely that it was understood that the fight was his and the battle had been called because of him. He feared neither death nor danger, which he held as nothing compared to the chance to do harm to those who had disdained him and had come to take what was his. Those in his division followed him into the fight, and as they were all select and very brave knights, they did great harm to their opponents.

Sir Florestan came with great wrath because he thought the contention was really about his brother Amadis, although he was not present, and if the knights on his side, moved by their great valor, ought to do amazing deeds, he ought to do even more, so he charged like a rabid dog looking to do the most harm it could. He saw King Cildadan, who was fighting bravely and doing great harm to his opponents, so much that at that time his deeds surpassed those of his men. Sir Florestan charged at him through the knights, who for all the blows they gave him could not stop him. He reached the King so violently and so eager to attack that he could do no other thing but grab him in his strong arms, and the King grabbed him.

They were immediately aided by the many knights that protected them, but they both lost their horses and fell onto the ground on their feet, put their hands on their swords, and gave each other mighty and mortal blows. But the good knight Enil and Angriote d’Estravaus, who protected Sir Florestan, were able to get him his horse, and when Sir Florestan mounted, he entered the fray doing wonders at arms, thinking of what his brother Amadis could do if he were there.

Norandel, whose armor was damaged and who was bleeding in many places, thrust his sword as deep as the hilt in many of the blows he gave with it. When he saw King Cildadan on foot, he called to Sir Galaor:

“My lord Sir Galaor, look to how your friend King Cildadan is. Let us help him. If not, he is dead.”

“Now, my good friend,” Sir Galaor said, “your excellence is shown. Let us give him a horse and stay with him.”

Then they entered the fight, attacking and knocking down whomever they could reach, and with great effort they got him on a horse, for he was badly injured by the blow of a sword that Dragonis had given him to the head, and blood ran freely into his eyes. And at that moment King Lisuarte’s men could do no more against the great strength of their opponents and would have been driven from the field unable to return the blows of the swords, if Sir Galaor and other distinguished knights had not come to help and regather them until they had reached King Lisuarte. When he saw them arriving defeated, he shouted:

“Now, my good friends, with your great skill, we shall defend the honor of the Kingdom of London!”

He spurred his horse, shouting, “Clarence, Clarence!” which was his surname, and charged his enemies at their strongest point. When he saw how bravely Sir Galvanes was fighting, the King struck him so hard that his lance flew in pieces and he lost his stirrups and grabbed the neck of his horse. He put his hand on his sword and began to attack on all sides. Thus he displayed the better part of his strength and courage, and his men shared his spirit and fought bravely with him.

But it all came to naught, for Sir Florestan, Sir Cuadragante, Angriote, and Gavarte, who found themselves together, did such deeds at arms that by their great strength it seemed is if their enemy would be defeated, and everyone thought that King Lisuarte’s men were going to be pushed from the field. The King, who saw his men retreating and in poor condition, felt great shame at losing. He called Sir Guilan the Pensive, who was badly injured and who came to him, along with King Arban of North Wales and Grumedan of Norway, and he told them:

“I see our people suffering, and I fear that God, Whom I have never served as I should, shall not give me honor in this battle. Let us do what we can, so that I could be said to be a king defeated and killed honorably, but never defeated alive with dishonor.”

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Chapter 62 [part 2 of 4]

[How King Lisuarte fell into grave error, and why it happened.] 

[King Fernando II of Castile, 1217–1252. He was canonized as a saint in 1671. Miniature from the 13th century Index of Royal Privileges kept at Santiago de Compostela.]   

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Now know ye that in the court of King Lisuarte there were two elderly knights who had served his brother King Falangris for many years, so due to their long service and the authority of their great age more than to their virtue or their abilities, they were made counselors to King Lisuarte. One of them was named Brocadan and the other Gandandel. And Gandandel had two sons who had been esteemed knights before Amadis and his brothers and relatives came to the court, and their surpassing skill and strength had left those two famed knights forgotten. This put such great anguish and brooding into the heart of their father, Gandandel, that without fear of God nor considering the faith he owed to his lord the King, he thought he could use his private honor and advantage to damage and darken the general good which he was obligated to uphold, so he fabricated a great treachery in his evil heart, which he brought about in this way:

Speaking to the King one day, he said:

“My lord, ye and I must speak in private. I have refrained from talking with you for many days, hoping that the issue would be solved some other way, and I realize I have erred seriously in doing so, and since things get worse every day, it is very necessary for you to receive counsel.”

When the King heard this, he wanted to know what it was about, and he took Gandandel to his chamber, where no one else was, and told him:

“Now say what ye please.”

And Gandandel told him:

“My lord, I have always had the wisdom to protect my soul and honor, and to do nothing wrong although I could, thanks be to God. So I am free and without passion and can use my judgement in your service to advise you without impediment, and ye, my lord, may do what ye see fit. And because I would err before God and you if I were not to speak of it, I must say this:

“Ye already know, my lord, how for a long time in the past until now there has always been great discord between the kingdoms of Gaul and Great Britain, and how that kingdom ought to be subject to this one, recognizing its supremacy as all the other neighboring regions do. This is an illness that shall not be cured until the matter has been justly concluded. Now I have seen how Amadis is not only native to Gaul but the eldest son of his lineage, and others are here in your land who have such power over and affection from your people that it seems it is within his grasp to rebel and take this land as if he were its rightful heir.

“It is true that from this knight and his brothers and relatives I have never received anything other than honor and pleasure, for which I am obliged to them with my person and sons and estate, but may it never please God for me to be obliged with what is yours, for ye are my lord and natural king. Instead I would submit my own person and possessions to yours over the least thing, for if I were to do less, in this world I would fall into evil and in the next my soul would be in Hell.

“And so, my lord, I have said what I am obliged to say and have discharged my duty. Order the situation remedied before waiting brings greater peril for, in keeping with your majesty, ye can more honorably and restfully be with your own people rather than with strangers who are contrary to you and will place your estate in great danger, although it may seem otherwise now.”

The King said, without anger:

“These knights have served me so well and done so much for my honor and advantage that I cannot think of them except as in every way good.”

“My lord,” Gandandel said, “this is the worst way ye can look at it, because if they were to do you disservice, ye would protect yourself from them as if they were enemies, but great services hide within themselves trickery, and in the end its nature cannot be denied, as I have told you.”

And with this which ye have heard, the talk was ended because the King did not reply again. But Gandandel immediately spoke with the other man, named Brocadan, who was his brother-in-law, and in keeping with his ill will, he told him everything that had happened with the King and suggested he do the same.

And so, with what one or the other said, attributing it all to the good of the kingdom, the King was moved to great resentment against those who thought of nothing except to serve him. He forgot about the great danger from which Sir Galaor had saved him when he was a prisoner of Arcalaus’s ten knights, and the danger from which Amadis, calling himself Beltenebros, had saved him from when Madanfabul, the brave giant of the Scarlet Tower, had pulled him from his saddle and was carrying him away under his arm toward the ships. In each case it could be very rightly said that he had been restored to life with all his kingdom.

Oh, kings and great lords who govern this world, how appropriate and pertinent this example is for you! Remember to place your trust in men of good conscience and good will, without trickery or malice, who will advise you not only in what is to your service but also in what is to your salvation. Stay far away from those resembling Brocadan and Gandandel and many others like them who spend their time in your courts thinking and working about how, with false praise and hidden trickery, they can make you stray from the service of the God whose ministers ye are, only so that they and their sons and daughters may achieve honors in the same way that these self-interested men have done.

Look, look for yourselves and see how those men entrusted with great reigns by the Lord must render a full and good account for what He has given them. And if ye do not, whatever glory and power and pleasure that ye may have in this world, in the other world without end ye shall have to endure the great anguish and pain with which your souls will be inflicted and tormented. And not only shall ye be left in that vast waste, but in the present years, where ye esteem honor and fame so much, ye shall be brought down like King Lisuarte was. He believed and trusted the words of those who knew how to do ill works, and he saw with his own eyes the loss and dishonor of his court without any remedy for it in all the days of his life. If Fortune had up until this point granted him some victories, it was because the farther he fell, the more anguished and pained his soul would be.

Returning to the story, I say that these words had such power over the King that the great and excessive love he had felt with great cause and good reason for Amadis and his family was not only chilled with great injustice but thrust aside in such a way that without any further thought or advice, he no longer had an interest in seeing them. He immediately ceased to visit and converse with Amadis as he lay injured in his bed, which he had often done, and, several times, he passed by his lodging without remembering to ask about his ill health or to speak to the knights who were accompanying him.

When they saw the King’s new and strange behavior, they were surprised, and they spoke of it sometimes in front of Amadis. But he still thought of himself as completely in his service and thought the King understood that, so he believed other duties and business had caused that behavior. He told the others not to suspect anything, especially his loyal and great friend Angriote de Estravaus, who was more concerned than anyone else.

The situation being as ye have heard, King Lisuarte ordered Madasima and her damsels and the old giant and his sons and the nine knights who were his hostages to be brought before him. He told them that if they did not immediately turn over the island of Mogaza as had been agreed, he would cut off their heads. When Madasima heard this, due to her great fear, tears came in abundance to her eyes, for she thought that if the lands were delivered, she would be disinherited, and if it were not done, she would suffer cruel death. She did not know how to respond, and in her great anxiety, her flesh trembled.

But Andaguel, the old giant, told the King that if he gave him permission and some men, he promised to have the island turned over or he would return to prison. The King held that as good and gave him some men, and they immediately left.

Madasima returned to prison, accompanied by many knights, among them Sir Galvanes the Landless. When he saw those tears falling down the cheeks of that beautiful face, his heart was not only moved to great pity, but suddenly, he lost the freedom he had possessed until that moment, never having been the prisoner of any of the many women he had seen. He did not know why nor how, but he was deeply subjected and captivated without any further thought or delay. Within the hour, he spoke privately to Madasima, laying bare his heart, and told her that if she were pleased to marry him, he would find a way to save her life and let her keep her land in freedom.

Madasima had already noticed the quality of this knight and his great and high lineage. She granted what he asked and knelt, wishing to kiss his hands. With that assurance, Sir Galvanes felt his heart ache cruelly as the flames rose higher and higher in it, which until that moment had been free of the combat of love for so long.

A few days later, to put into effect what he had promised, he went to Amadis’s lodging. He spoke with him and his nephew Agrajes, and he revealed the full secret of his heart, showing them that if they did not get him a remedy, his life would be placed in the extreme of death. They were amazed by his sudden change and how he seemed to have lost control over his own will, being the reverse of his former concerns and thoughts. They told him that due to his valor and the great services he had done for King Lisuarte, it would be much easier to have Madasima and all her land be delivered to him, especially since it would remain in the realm because he was the King’s vassal. Amadis said that when he could mount a horse, he would go and arrange it with the King.

Meanwhile, Gandandel, sowing enmity, often went to see Amadis and showed him great love, and each time they spoke of the King, he always said it seemed to him that the King’s love had greatly cooled, and Amadis should be careful not to have any harm befall him. Gandandel said this would be a serious sorrow for him, considering all the help and favors he and his sons had received from Amadis.

But no matter how many subtle things he said, he could never move Amadis to anger or suspicion, and because Gandandel kept insisting, Amadis told him with some ire to speak about it no more. He said that even if everyone were to say the same thing, he could not believe that a man as wise and virtuous as the King could have come to oppose him, for Amadis, whether sleeping or awake, had never thought of anything but his service.
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