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 64 [part 4 of 4]

[How Gandandel and Brocadan received justice.] 

[Gauntlets on display at Segovia Castle. Photo by Sue Burke.]
 
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Then Angriote de Estravaus arrived with his nephew Sarquiles, fully armed, and approached the King to kiss his hands. The twelve knights were surprised that he had come because they did not know why. But Gandandel and Brocadan were terrified and looked at one another, as those who knew what Angriote had said previously, and thought he had come because of that. Although they held him to be one of the best knights in the King’s reign, they prepared themselves to answer him. They called their two sons to stand near them and ordered them to say nothing more than they were ordered.

Angriote came before the King and told him:

“My lord, order Gandandel and Brocadan to come forward. I must tell them some things so that ye and those here shall know better what has occurred.”

The King ordered them to step forward, and everyone came to see what it would happen.

Angriote said:

“My lord, know that Gandandel and Brocadan are disloyal and false to you, and they advised you badly and with lies, without thinking about God or you or Amadis, who did them so many honors and never did them wrong. And they vilely told you that Amadis sought to raise a revolt in your land, but he never thought of anything but to serve you. They made you lose the best man that any king has ever had, and with him many other good knights who did not deserve it. And so, my lord, I have come before you to tell them that they are evil and false and they did you great treachery when you trusted them fully. If they deny it, I shall fight them both, and if their age excuses them, they can put their sons in their places, for with the help of God I shall show them the disloyalty of their parents, and you, good King, shall witness it.”

“My lord,” Gandandel said, “ye see now how Angriote has come to your court to dishonor it, and this is because you allow those who do not wish to serve you enter your lands. If that had been remedied, this would not have happened. And do not be surprised, my lord, if Amadis were to come here tomorrow to challenge you. If Angriote had found me in that time when I did many services at arms in another kingdom for your brother, King Falangris, he would not dare to say what he says. But since he finds me old and weak, he is bold to conquer, and this diminishes you more than it affects me.”

“No, evil sir,” Angriote said. “Now that your false charges have been made known, they can do no harm, and they did enough harm when you told them to the King. I do not come to cause revolt nor to dishonor his court: instead, in his honor, to remove the bad seed that cast out the good seed.”

Sarquiles said:

“My lord, ye know well the words that I have told you about this, and by them ye recognize the truth in what my lord and uncle Angriote says. With my own ears I heard all about the malice that these two evil men did to you to make you suspect Amadis and his family. And if they say it is not so or excuse themselves for their age, let their sons respond, who are young and strong, those three against us two. God will show the truth, and there it shall be seen if they are such that can relieve Amadis and his family from your service as their fathers have.”

When Gandandel’s two sons saw their father discredited and everyone in the palace laughing to see him in such trouble, with great anger they came through the crowd, pushing aside one person after another, and when they were before the King, they said:

“My lord, Angriote has lied in what he said about our father and Brocadan, and we shall fight them. Here are our pledges.”

Each give the king their gauntlet, and Angriote gave him the skirt of his chain mail and said:

“My lord, here you see my pledge. Let them arm themselves at once. And ye, my lord, mount and watch our battle.”

The King said:

“Most of the day has gone past, and there is no more time to fight. Tomorrow, after Mass, be ready for battle, and we shall put you in the field.”

Then a knight came forward who was named Adamas, who was the son of Brocadan and Gandandel’s sister, and although he was well built, very brave, and strong, he was very vile, so everyone disliked him. He told the King:

“My lord, I say that Sarquiles has lied about everything he has said, and I shall fight him tomorrow if he dares to enter the field with his uncle.”

Sarquiles was very pleased by this and to find himself in the company of his uncle, and immediately gave his pledge to the King, for he wanted to fight. Then the King ordered everyone to go to their lodgings, and they did. Angriote and Sarquiles left with the dozen knights and took Madasima and her damsels with them, who had by then had said farewell to the Queen and Oriana, and the Queen ordered a fine tent provided for them to stay in.

The King received Sir Grumedan and his nephew Giontes, and ordered Gandandel and Brocadan to be called in and told them:

“I am amazed that ye told me so many times that Amadis wished to do me treason and lead a revolt in my land, and now when the proof is needed, ye have let it drop and have put your sons in a test in which they do not know what justice their side may have. Ye have wronged God and me, and the malice that ye did made me lose a good man and many good knights. Ye shall not be without penalty, because the just Judge shall give it to those who deserve it.”

“My lord,” Gandandel said, “my sons came forward thinking that the test would be delayed.”

“Indeed,” Sir Grumedan said, “they thought correctly, because there is and will be nothing against Amadis in this nor in any other thing in which he is said to have erred against the King. If ye suspected him, that was so unreasonable that not even the devils in hell could have thought it. If ye had a thousand heads and the King were to cut them all off, it would not avenge the harm that ye did him. But ye remain, and may God wish that it be not for more evil, and the anguish that your sons shall suffer will be your fault.”

“Sir Grumedan,” they said, “although ye may believe that and wish for it, we have hope that our sons shall raise up our honor and theirs.”

“May God not save me,” Grumedan said, “if I wished for that more than what is deserved for the good or bad advice that ye gave to the King.”

Then the King ordered them to speak no more of that for it was useless. They were dismissed and he went to eat, and the others went to their homes. That night each side prepared their arms and their horses, and from midnight on, Angriote and Sarquiles kept vigil in the chapel of Holy Mary that was next to their tents.

At the dawn of day all the dozen knights armed themselves and were suspicious of the King because they thought he was angry with them. They took Madasima and her damsels with them on their palfreys, each knight with a damsel, and Angriote and Sarquiles in front of them, and they entered the town and went to the field where the battle was going to be. The King and all the knights and townspeople were already there, with three judges to oversee the fight. One was King Arban of North Wales; the other Giontes, the King’s nephew; and the third Quinorante, the good jouster.

They took Angriote and Sarquiles and put them at one end of the field. Then Tanarin and Corian, the two brothers, and Adamas, the cousin, came and entered the field very well armed and on beautiful horses, prepared to prevail if the malice of their fathers would not prevent it.

When the knights were lined up against each other, Giontes sounded his trumpet, and the knights charged as fast as their horses could gallop. Corian and Tanarin aimed at Angriote, and Adamas at Sarquiles. Tanarin hit Angriote in the encounter and his lance broke and flew apart in pieces.

Angriote struck Corian on his shield so bravely that he threw him over the haunches of his horse. When he turned to Tanarin, he saw that he had his sword in his hand. Tanarin saw his brother on the ground and came at Angriote in rage, meaning to strike him on his helmet, but he swung too soon and instead hit Angriote’s horse on the head with a great blow that cut a piece from it and the bridle headband, and the reins fell to its chest.

And as he came so violently, and as Angriote came for him, they covered themselves with their shields and struck each other so hard that Tanarin fell to the ground stunned. Angriote, who saw that his horse was injured, jumped from it as fast as he could, as one who was very agile and valiant and had often seen himself in similar perils.

On foot, he held up his shield and put his hand on his sword, with which he had given many great and mighty blows in the past, and came at the two brothers, who were together. He saw how his nephew Sarquiles was fighting with Adamas on horse bravely with swords. When he reached the brothers, they came on either side of him and attacked him with great blows, as those who were valiant and very strong. But Angriote defended himself, raising his shield to one and his sword to the other, so that he made them turn around him, and they did not manage to strike him fully and their blows were always deflected downward, for, as ye have been told, this knight was better at attacking with a sword than all the other knights in the reign of the King. Soon he had them in such a state that their shields were in pieces and their chain mail was broken in many places, from which blood flowed.

But he was not unharmed himself. He had suffered many injuries and had lost a lot of blood. Sarquiles, when he saw his uncle in trouble and because he could not defeat Adamas, put everything into one attack. He spurred his horse sharply and grabbed Adamas by the arms. They struggled together for a time, each trying to pull the other down.

When Angriote saw them, he came as fast as he could to help Sarquiles if he fell, and the two brothers followed him as best as they could to help their cousin. At that moment the two knights fell to the ground tightly embraced, and there ye would have seen a great battle. Angriote tried to rescue his nephew and the others their cousin. Angriote did amazing feats at arms, giving such hard and terrible and fierce blows that for everything the two brothers did, they could not do enough to allow Adamas to leave the hands of Sarquiles alive.

When Gandandel and Brocadan saw this, for up until then they had hoped that the strength of their sons would uphold in battle what they had devised with great malice, they left their window with great pain and anguish in their hearts. The King did the same, for the success of Amadis’s friends weighed on him and he did not wish to see the defeat and death of the others nor the victory of Angriote. But everyone else was taking great pleasure in it because in this world the evil deeds of Gandandel and Brocadan were being repaid with some of what they deserved.

But the four knights that were in the field thought of nothing else but to attack on all sides with great blows, and the battle did not last long for Angriote and Sarquiles tired the two brothers with so many blows. Now Corian and Tanarin did not try to defend themselves and only retreated, looking for some protection, but they could not find it. They gave a few blows and turned to flee, thinking they could save their lives.

But in the end they were knocked down and could not withstand the blows that their enemies gave them, and died by their hands, much to the pleasure of the beautiful Madasima and the knights of Firm Island, and of Oriana and Mabilia, who had never ceased praying to God to give them victory, which they had won.

Then Angriote asked the judges if there was anything more to do. They told him that he had done quite enough to fulfill his honor. They sent them from the field, and they were taken away by their companions. With Madasima, they returned to their tents, where they had their wounds attended to.

HERE ENDS THE SECOND BOOK OF AMADIS
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Chapter 64 [part 3 of 4]

[How Madasima and the damsels were freed, but not to everyone’s satisfaction.] 

[View of the collegiate church and castle of Santa María la Mayor in Alquézar, Spain. Photo by LsanzSal.] 

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The next morning the twelve knights went to hear Mass with the King, and when it was said, the King went to his palace with his advisors and many other noblemen, and he ordered Gandandel and Brocadan brought to him. He told them:

“Now you must repeat the same argument that ye have always made to me before these noblemen about why Madasima and her damsels should not be heard.”

He ordered them to stand in a place where they could address everyone. Imosil of Burgundy and Ledaderin of Fajaraque came before the King:

“We and these knights come here to ask for your mercy so Madasima and her damsels may be heard, because we believe that thus ye shall do what is right.”

Gandandel said:

“Many speak of what is right but few know what it is. Ye say that these damsels rightly ought to be heard, but that cannot rightly be, for they are obliged to die without exception. They entered the King’s prison under this agreement: If Ardan Canileo were killed and defeated, the island of Mongaza would be freely given to him, and if not, the damsels and the knights with them would be killed. The knights, after the death of Ardan Canileo, delivered the castles they had, but Gromadaza does not wish to deliver what she has, so there is and can be no reason to excuse them from death.”

Imosil said:

“Truly, Gandandel, ye have no reason to say what ye did in front of such a good King and knights such as these, for it is contrary to what is right and was said for no other reason than ill will. It is manifest to all who know anything that in any dispute that may hang over a man or woman, if it does not involve treason or rebellion, their life or death must be heard and judged according to their guilt. This is done in lands were there is justice, and to do otherwise would be great cruelty. And this is what we ask of the King, that he consider the matter with these noblemen who are here and do what is just.”

Gandandel replied that this was so unjust that he could say no more, and the King should make a decision, for he had already heard both sides. And that was how the matter rested. The King and certain knights remained, and all the rest left. The King wanted his uncle Argamonte, a very honorable and wise count, to say what he thought, but he deferred to the King, saying that no one knew the law as completely as he did. The others agreed.

When the King saw this, he said:

“Since ye leave it to me, I say that it seems to me that the wisest thing is what Imosil of Burgundy said, that the damsels should be heard.”

“Truly, my lord,” said the Count and all the rest, “ye have decided justly, and so it shall be.”

Then they called the knights and told them his decision, and Imosil and Ledaderin kissed his hands and said:

“Then, my lord, if it is your mercy, order Madasima and her damsels be brought forth, and we shall save them with just cause or with arms if it is necessary.”

“I am pleased that it shall be so,” the King said. “Bring the damsels and we shall see if they accept you to speak for them.”

And then they were sent for, and they came before the King with such great fear and looking so lovely that there was no man who did not have great pity for them. The twelve knights from Firm Island took the damsels by the hand, and Agrajes and Sir Florestan took Madasima’s hands.

Imosil and Ledaderin said:

“My lady Madasima, these knights came here to save you and your damsels from death. The King wishes to know if ye shall let us represent you.”

She said:

“My lords, if the rights of captive and ill-fated damsels can be given, we give them to you, and we place ourselves in the care of God and you.”

“Since that is so,” Imosil said, “now let whoever wishes to speak against you come forward, if there is anyone, and I shall defend you with words or arms. And if as many as twelve come, they shall find their reply here.”

The King turned to Gandandel and Brocadan and saw how they looked at the ground and were dismayed and did not respond. He said to the knights of Firm Island:

“Go to your lodgings until tomorrow, and meanwhile may those who wish to respond formulate their arguments.”

Then they accompanied Madasima back to prison and then went to their lodgings. The King took Gandandel and Brocadan aside and told them:

“Ye have told and counseled me many times that it was just to kill the damsels and that ye would defend that by just reason, and even, if it were necessary, by your sons with arms. Now it is time to for you to do so, and I, because what Imosil says seems like beautiful and just reason to me, shall not order anyone in my court to fight with these knights. And so, do as ye must. If not, the damsels shall be free and I shall not have been well counseled.”

They said they would come the next day with their reply, and went very sadly to their homes. They agreed that they had begun their cause with reasoned arguments, but they would not put their sons in the confrontation because their reasons were not true and because their sons were not equal in arms to those knights.

But that night the news arrived to the King that the giantess Gromadaza was dead and had ordered her castles be delivered to the King to free her daughter and the damsels, and that Count Latine had the castles in his power, which pleased him very much.

The next day, after Mass, he sat where he would give justice, and the twelve knights came before him, and he told them:

“From today on do not speak anymore about what shall be done with the damsels, for ye are released from that. Madasima and her damsels are freed from death because I have the castles for which I held them in prison.”

Hearing this gave great pleasure to Gandandel and Brocadan because they had expected nothing but great dishonor.

Then the King ordered Madasima and her damsels brought forth, and he told them:

“Ye are free and I hold ye released. Do what ye please, for I have the castles for which ye were held.”

He did not want to tell her that her mother was dead. Madasima wished to kiss his hands, but the King would not let her, for he never did unless he gave a lady or damsel a mercy. She told him:

“My lord, since I am in my own free will as ye say, I put myself under the power of my lord Sir Galvanes, who, with his friends, has put forth so much effort for me.”

Agrajes took her by the hand and said:

“My good lady, ye have done what ye ought, and although ye are now disinherited from your lands, ye shall have another where ye shall be honored until God provides the remedy.”

Imosil told the King:

“My lord, if Madasima is to be done rightly, she should not be disinherited, for it is known that children are in the power of their parents, and although it troubles them, they must follow their orders. But they should not be condemned to be disinherited for this, for obedience more than volition obliges them to do what their parents wish. And since ye, my lord, serve to give each one what is right, ye are obliged to do it yourself to give an example to others.”

“Imosil,” the King said, “ye have the damsels freed, and do not speak of the rest, for I have suffered many affronts from that land, and now I must defend it, and I cannot take it from my daughter Leonoreta, to whom I gave it.”

Sir Galvanes told him:

“My lord, the right that Madasima has to that land comes from her grandparents, and I am committed to that. I ask you to remember the services I did for you and do not seek to make me disinherited, for I wish to be your vassal and be in your mercy, and I shall serve you in it as loyally and as well as I can.”

“Sir Galvanes,” the King said, “do not speak of this, for what is done cannot be undone.”

“Since neither right nor prudence serves me,” he said, “I shall try to take it as best I can, and to keep it from your kingdom.”

“Do what ye may,” the King said, “for it has already been in the power of those braver than you, and it will be easier to defend it from you than it was to take it from them.”

“Ye hold it because of that person who has been poorly rewarded,” Sir Galvanes said. “He shall help me recover it.”

The King said:

“If he helps you, many others will serve me who did not serve for love of him, who I had in my court and protected from them.”

Agrajes, who was irate, said:

“In truth, as some here and many others well know, if Amadis was protected by you or you by him, although ye are King, he was always a knight errant.”

Sir Florestan, who saw that Agrajes was so angry, put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back, then stood in front of him and told the King:

“It seems, my lord, that ye value the services more of those of whom ye speak than of those of Amadis, and we are close to proving the truth of that.”

Sir Brian of Monjaste stepped past Florestan and said:

“Although ye, my lord, little value the services of Amadis and his friends, ye must value a lot those who could rightly make them forgotten.”

The King said:

“Sir Brian, I see by your face that you are one of his friends.”

“Truly I am,” he said, “and he is my cousin and I must do his will in everything.”

“We have everything here to prevent that,” the King said.

“It will all be necessary,” he said, “to prevent what Amadis could do.”

Then knights came from both sides to respond, but the King raised a staff he had in his hand and ordered them to speak no more of that, and everyone sat down again.
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Chapter 64 [part 1 of 4]

How Oriana fell into great sorrow over the departure of Amadis and the other knights, and even more to find herself pregnant; and how twelve knights who were at Firm Island with Amadis arrived to protect Madasima and the other damsels with her who were facing death without just cause. 

[From Wilhelm von Orlens by Rudolf von Ems, the story of the love between Wilhelm von Orlens and Princess Amelie. The illumination was made in the workshop of Diebold Lauber in about 1450 to 1470.] 
 
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It has been told to you how Amadis was with his lady Oriana at Miraflores Castle for eight days, and it seems that during that time Oriana was made pregnant. She did not realize it, since she was a person with little knowledge of such matters, until she suffered a great change and weakness in her health. And when she understood it, she took Mabilia and the Damsel of Denmark aside and told them, weeping:

“Oh, my great friends! What shall become of me? As I see it, my death is near, which I had always suspected.”

They thought she spoke about the separation from her beloved and her loneliness, and consoled her as they had before. But she said:

“Another trouble has come to me along with this one, which puts us in the greatest ill fortune and danger. And, truly, it is that I am pregnant.”

Then she described the signs so that they would believe her, and they knew that her suspicion was true. They were very frightened but they did not let her see that. Mabilia said:

“My lady, do not be afraid, for everything will have its good remedy. I have always believed the saying: “Some sports yield certain prizes’.”

Oriana, although she was very anxious, could not keep herself from laughing, and she said:

“My friends, now we need to decide how to solve this, and it would be good if I immediately seemed more afflicted and weak, and if I avoided the company of everyone I can except you, and when the necessity comes, to solve it with the least suspicion.”

“So it shall be done,” they said, “and may God put it right. Now we must decide what shall be done with the infant when it is born.”

“I shall tell you,” Oriana said. “The Damsel of Denmark, if she pleases to ease my anguish and pain, will let her honor be diminished so that mine and my life may be saved.”

“My lady,” she said, “I have no life or honor other than what ye will. So give the order, and I shall fulfill it unto death.”

“My good friend,” she said, “I had hoped for that from you, and I shall repay the honor that you now risk for me in even greater degree if I live.”

The Damsel knelt and kissed her hands. Oriana told her:

“Then, my good friend, this is what ye shall do: go sometimes to see Balasta, the abbess of my monastery in Miraflores, as ye go about doing other things, and when the time of my childbirth comes, go to her and tell her that ye are pregnant and beg her that besides keeping your secret, she shall provide the solution for the newborn, whom ye shall place at the door of the church, and ask that he be raised as a child of God. I know she will do it because she loves you dearly. And this way my pregnancy will be hidden, and ye shall not be in great peril, for this shall only be known by that honorable lady, who will keep your secret.”

“So it shall be done,” the Damsel said. “Ye have thought this through well.”

And for now, this concern shall wait until its proper time, and we shall speak of King Lisuarte.

When he learned that the giantess Gromadaza did not want to deliver the castle at Boiling Lake and the other castles to him, as we have already recounted, he ordered Madasima and her damsels brought before him, as he had been advised by Gandandel and Brocadan. When they were in his presence, he told them:

“Madasima, ye know how ye entered my prison under the agreement that if your mother did not deliver the island of Mongaza in the Burning Lake and the other castles to me, ye and your damsels would be beheaded. And now, I have learned from the men I sent there, that she will not comply with what she promised. That being the case, I wish that your death and the deaths of these damsels be an example and lesson to those who make agreements with me, so that they do not dare to lie.”

When Madasima heard this, her great beauty and lively color became yellow. She knelt before the King and said:

“My lord, the fear of death makes my heart even weaker than it naturally is, since I am a tender damsel. So I am left with no sense at all, and I do not know how to respond. If there is some knight in your court who could rightly speak for me, understanding that I was placed in this prison against my will, he would do what he must according to the rules of knighthood and respond on behalf of all women in such situations. And if there is not, ye, my lord, who has never failed a lady or damsel in tribulation, order that I be given a hearing, and do not let anger and ire overcome the justice that as a King ye must seek.”

Gandandel, who felt very eager for her death, hoping it would further inflame the enmity between King Lisuarte and Amadis, said:

“My lord, by no means should these damsels be heard under any condition because they were condemned to death unless the land is delivered to you. So immediately and without any further delay, justice should be executed.”

Sir Grumedan, tutor of the Queen, who was a very loyal knight and very wise in issues of honor as well as very experienced in deeds of arms, with his subtle and well-read ingenuity, said:

“The King shall not do this, may it please God, nor shall he cause such cruelty nor immoderation, for this damsel was placed in this situation more by the obedience she owes to her mother than by her own will. And so, just as what is humbly done in secret shall receive thanks from God, in public the King must do His duty following His doctrines. As well, I have learned that within three days some knights from Firm Island will be here to plead for those damsels, and if you, Sir Gandandel, or your sons, wish to show what ye said here to be true, ye shall find someone to respond to you among them.”

Gandandel told him:

“Sir Grumedan, if ye wish me ill, I have never deserved it from you, and if ye have had some affront with my sons, ye well know that they shall uphold as knights everything that I have said.”

“We shall see soon,” Sir Grumedan said, “and to you I wish no more ill or good than what is due for the way I see you counsel the King.”

The King, although he had erred against Amadis without reason, considered that he might have to further anger him in these matters, but his new passion could not overcome his old and accustomed virtue. When he heard what Sir Grumedan said, he was very pleased and asked which knights were coming to free the damsels. Grumedan recounted them all by name.

“A fine group of good and wise knights,” the King said.

When Gandandel heard them named, he was very frightened and regretted what he had said about his sons, for he knew well that their skill did not come close to equaling that of Sir Florestan, Agrajes, Brian of Monjaste, and Gavarte of Valtemoroso. As soon as the King had ordered Madasima and her damsels returned to prison, Gandandel went to his brother-in-law Brocadan with great anguish in his heart because things had gone completely the opposite from how he had first thought, and they might well receive the reward that evil deserved.

And now, in this case, things will happen just as the Evangel says: no hidden thing will go unknown.

Gandandel went with Brocadan to a private part of his house to discuss the arrival of the knights from Firm Island and how to try to make the King order the deaths of Madasima and her damsels before they arrived. Brocadan blamed Gandandel for the evil he did to Amadis by telling baseless falsehoods about him to the King and for all the other things that had happened in that evil business. He expressed great concern and sorrow over the bad counsel they had given and feared that the wrath of God and the King would soon arise, causing the loss of his honors and of his sons, for whose cause this had all begun.

As they spoke, it happened that Brocadan’s niece, who was in love with a young knight named Sarquiles, nephew of Angriote de Estravaus, had hidden him in a side room next to the chamber where those two, alone and secretly, were having their discussion. He heard everything they said and learned their evil secrets, and was very astonished.

When they left and night came, he departed, put on all the armor he had left in a house outside the town, mounted his horse in the morning and rode back as if he had come from the other way. He went to the King’s palace and spoke to him, saying:

“My lord, I am native to your lands and was raised in your court, and I want to protect you from all evil and trickery so that ye do not err in your affairs by following someone else’s will. Not yet three days ago I was where I heard some men who wished to give you bad advice that would go against your honor and good name. I tell you not to trust anything Gandandel and Brocadan may say to you about Madasima and her damsels, since there are such people in your court who would counsel you with less dishonesty. Ye and everyone else will know why I am moved to say this within twelve days. If ye remember what I say when they speak, ye can immediately understand that I know something about them. And my lord, may God be with you, for I am going to see my uncle Angriote.”

“May God be with you,” the King said, and he thought long about what he had been told.
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Chapter 63 [part 3 of 3]

[How Amadis and Sir Galvanes and the other knights learned that Madasima had been sentenced to death.] 

[The door in the prison at Segovia Castle. Photo by Sue Burke.] 
 
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Amadis and his companions who left King Lisuarte’s court, as ye have heard, arrived at Firm Island, where they were received with great pleasure and happiness by everyone who lived there, whose sorrow at having lost their new lord was turned into twice as much pleasure for their spirits at having him return.

The knights saw how strong the castle was and that the only entrance to the island was through it, and saw that the island was large, and the land was as fertile and delightful as they had heard, populated by so many good people. Having seen this, they said the island was suitable for waging war from it against the whole world. They were immediately lodged in the biggest town which lay at the foot of the castle.

Know ye that this island was nine leagues long and seven wide, and it was filled with towns and other fine dwellings of the knights of that land. In the most enjoyable places, Apolidon had made four dwellings for himself, the most rare and delightful that man could ever see. The first was the one with the serpent and the lions; the second with the deer and the dogs. The third, which was called the spinning palace, was a house that three times per day and three times per night turned around so sharply that those inside it thought they were sinking. The fourth was called the bull, because each day a very brave bull would come out of an old tunnel and charge at people as if it wished to kill them. Everyone would flee from it, and its mighty horns would break down the iron door of a tower. It would enter, but soon it would come out tame, ridden by a monkey so old and wrinkled that its skin hung off it everywhere. The monkey would strike the bull with a whip and make it enter the tunnel from which it had emerged.

All the knights had much pleasure and delight to see these enchantments and the many others that Apolidon had made out of his devotion to giving pleasure to his beloved Grimanesa so she would always have something with which to pass the time. And all the knights were very firm in their love for Amadis and to obey whatever his will was to do.

At this time, as ye hear, the hermit Andalod arrived, the one who had lived at Poor Rock when Amadis was there. He came to bring order to the monastery at Firm Island that ye have heard about. And when he saw Amadis thus, he gave many thanks to God for having given such a good man life, and gazed at him and embraced him as if he had never seen him before. Amadis kissed his hands and thanked him humbly for the health and life that through God and him he had recovered.

Then a monastery was founded at the foot of a peak on Firm Island at the hermitage of the Virgin Mary where Amadis, desperate for life, with great pain in his heart over the letter that his lady Oriana had sent him, had prayed and was lost to the world as ye have heard earlier. Andalod had brought a priest named Sisian and thirty friars for the monastery. Amadis ordered them to receive enough income to support their lives comfortably, and Andalod returned to Poor Rock as before.

Then Balais of Carsante arrived, whom Amadis had rescued from Arcalaus’s prison, and who had gone to bid farewell to King Lisuarte when he learned that Amadis had left him discontented. Olivas also came, who had helped Agrajes and Sir Galvanes in his battle with the Duke of Bristol. They asked Balais for news of the court of King Lisuarte, and he said:

“There is exceedingly much to tell.”

Then he told them:

“Know, my lords, that King Lisuarte has sent orders to all his men to join him immediately. Count Latine and the knights he had sent to take Mongaza Island had sent him word that the old giant had relinquished all the castles that were in the power of himself or his sons, but Gromadaza did not wish to give up Boiling Lake, the strongest castle in all the island, as well as three other very strong castles.

“And know that Gromadaza said that never in all the days of her life will she abandon the places where she had lived with her husband Famongomadan and son Barsagante. She would die before she delivers them, and the King will always receive trouble from her. And as for her daughter Madasima and her damsels, the King may do what he wishes to them, for she cares little for them or their lives, and their loss would give her a only a little sadness. And so I say she may be taken as an example of how rigorous and strong is the heart of an angry woman, willing to abandon all that she was engendered for and that her nature cannot achieve, and necessarily her slight wisdom cannot help her. And if a woman is not like this, it is due to the great grace of God in Whom all power is and Who can guide events without any difficulty as He pleases, forcing all things of nature to be contrary.”

After Balais had delivered this news, they asked him what the King had said and planned to do, and he told them:

“In front of all his men, as I have told you, he swore that if Gromadaza’s castles were not his within a month, he would have Madasima and her damsels beheaded, and then he would march to Boiling Lake and would attack until he had taken them, and if he had the old giantess in his power, he would throw her to his brave lions.”

When they heard this news, they were very angry. They had Balais and the other knights given lodging, and they spoke a lot about it. But Sir Galvanes, who had not forgotten the promise he had made to Madasima, and whose heart was tormented by great anguish and pain, told them:

“My good lords, ye all know well that the principal cause for which Amadis and ourselves left the King was over Madasima and me. I beg you all to help me fulfill the promise I made, and to protect her with just reason, and if reason is not enough, to protect her with arms, which with God’s help and yours I believe I could well do.”

Sir Florestan stood up and said:

“My lord Sir Galvanes, there are others here who are wiser and can give better counsel than I, and they can help you protect Madasima if she can be defended with reason, which would be best. But if it is necessary to fight, I shall take on the battle in the name of God to defend her and to support your promise.”

“My good friend,” Sir Galvanes said, “I thank you for that as much as I can, because ye have shown yourself to be my loyal friend. But if she must be freed by arms, it ought to fall on me to do it, since I made that promise to her, and I shall do it.”

“My good lords,” Brian of Monjaste said, “ye both speak well, but we all have our part in this deed. What happened with Amadis with the King showed us how little we were regarded, and what happened between him and you, my lord Sir Galvanes, could also have befallen to any one of us who were there. But if we do not become involved in this, we should all be diminished, although the principal cause was Amadis’s. So, since we all left together and are together now, what befalls to one of us befalls us all, and so there is no private matter. And leaving that aside, Madasima is a damsel, one of the most lovely in the world, and she is in danger of losing her life, as are her damsels. Since one of the principles of the order of knighthood is to rescue such women, I tell you that I shall strive that they be defended with reason, and if that fails, with arms as long as my strength shall last.”

Sir Cuadragante said:

“Truly, Sir Brian, ye speak like a man of high estate, and I believe ye shall do the very best ye can, yet this business affects us all, and so we must all take it as our own so they hold us as worthy men. Now and without delay, because waiting often adds little to intentions, we must put this effort in effect, for there will not be a better time. And remember, my lords, these damsels are now miserable and forsaken, but they were not put in prison by their own volution but due to the obedience that Madasima owed to her mother. So, although the King may hold something against them in this world, God holds nothing against them, and so they have been condemned by force rather than their will.”

Amadis said:

“I am very pleased, my lords, to hear what ye say, because we should expect only a good outcome from things considered out of love and concord. And if ye maintain your mighty and brave hearts in the future the way they are now, no only do I think these damsels will find great aid, but this will lead to other great deeds, for none in the world can equal you. And if ye are all agreed to help, if ye please, I shall say what it seems to me should be done.”

They all asked him to say it. So he told them:

“There are twelve damsels. I think it good that they be rescued by twelve of you knights either by reason or by arms, one for each of them, together if possible or separately as necessity may demand. I am certain that all of ye here, with your great courage, would take this challenge for enjoyment and pleasure, but that cannot be, for there can only be twelve. I wish to name them, and the others and I shall remain here for things of greater danger that may occur to us.”

Then he said:

“Ye, my lord Sir Galvanes, are the first, for the business is principally yours; and your cousin Agrajes; my brother Sir Florestan; my cousins Palomir and Dragonis; Sir Brian of Monjaste; Nicoran of the White Tower; Orlandin, son of the Count of Urlanda; Gavarte of Valtemoroso; Imosil, brother of the Duke of Burgundy; Madansil of the Silver Bridge; and Ladaderin of Fajarque. I hold these twelve to be good because among them are sons of kings and queens and duke and counts of such high lineage that none of them can fail there because they have no par.”

They were all very pleased by what Amadis had said, and those who where named immediately went to their lodging to arrange everything necessary for their departure, which would be early in the morning the next day. That night they all stayed in Agrajes’s lodging, and at midnight they were armed. They mounted their horses and got on the road to Tasilana, the town where King Lisuarte was.
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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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