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Show . , I Ten Minute Classics l j Famous Tales and Legends Told in Erief Form j i i A Love Story of the Battle -Scarred Land cf Champagne 1 By J. A7. DULLER j Copyrlslit by J. W. Mailer A warder ran to the knight, who was wan and broken from long hours of unavailing un-availing grief. "Oh, sir !" cried the man. "There is before the draw-bridge a most wondrous lovely woman, clad richly In scarlet and gold. Never have we seen any so slim, so dainty, so sweet! And, lord, she rides on your horse I" The knight bounded down the stairs and through the portal. He lifted down the bride, kissing her a hundred times and more. Then he sent for a chaplain and led her to the chapel of his house where they were married forthwith. In the meantime, there was wild trouble among the wedding party. The old lord and the old bridegroom tore their beards and laid lustily with whip and boot on the guards, who made mad clamor, blaming each other. To them at last spurred a rider sent by Messire William with this message: "Sir, my master sends you assurance assur-ance of his great friendship. lie also charges me to say to his uncle, who betrayed him so shamefully, that he pardons him the more easily for the reason that your daughter has giveu herself to him as a gift this day." The old lord listened with wonder and anger. But he took thought to himself, and concluded that since she was married, nothing he could do would undo it. Therefore, presently, all the company rode peacefully to the knight's castle, where the old noble embraced his undesired son-in-law vlth all courtesy, while the' graybeard of a bridegroom who was not a bridegroom tried in vain to discover a few crumbs of comfort that might console him. Failing in this, he went home and died, which was a favor to Messire AVilliam, since all his wealth went to the knight. And there is no troubadour trouba-dour in Champagne who ever has told or sung this story who was not forced to add, in accordance with the truth, that there never was a horse in all the world that was so honored and beloved as the horse that stole the bride and brought her to her bridegroom. The famous stories of the middle ages were preserved by three agencies agen-cies the trouveres., who lived usually usu-ally among noblemen, and often were poets and originators ; the troubadours, trou-badours, who were wandering minstrels min-strels and generally recited other men's tales and verses; and the learned monies, who set the more important legends down in writing. One of the latter was a monk of Soissons, Gautier de Coinci, who did a great service by setting down tales in French instead of Latin. Shakespeare, Shake-speare, Montaigne, Browning, Ana-tole Ana-tole France and many others have used these tales to make versions of their own. Playwrights, authors and poets find a deep fount of inspiration and story in the troubadour literature of the middle ages. Most famous of these tales are the French tales of the thirteenth century, and from one of them is taken the story presented pre-sented today. It deals with that part of the Champagne from Soissons Sois-sons to Reims, where today a long line is held desperately by French and Germans, who are face to face, and in some parts almost within touch of each other. Messire William was a loyal knight of Champagne who was honored by all men who prized truth and. nobility. His fortune, however, did not equal his merit. He possessed a castle, it is true ; but the only income that he had was obtained painfully in tournaments, out of the ransoms of his overthrown adversaries. He owned only one thing that was valuable. It was his horse. Gray it was, flower-bright of coat. Never had men seen another such steed, so proud, so impetuous and yet so dainty of foot. Men near and far coveted it and offered him wealth for it, but he would not listen. lis-ten. Between these two, knight and horse, there was a great love as between be-tween brothers. Poor as he was, Messire William set his heart on the daughter of the richest rich-est lord in all the Champagne. She was as good as she was beautiful, which is no scanty praise, since the minstrels all sang that she was In truth part and parcel of the loveliness of their land. She gave her heart to the tall, splendid splen-did knight, but never could they meet. Her father kept her close, never permitting per-mitting her to pass from the battlements battle-ments and walled gardens. Still the knight rode to her castle every day, and every day they saw each other and talked love, though they could do it only through a gap in the masonry of a great wall. Although he well knew the futility of it. Messire William ventured at last to ask her father for her hand. "Think you I am so besotted as to give my child to a knight who lives by play?" roared the old man. "She shall marry no beggar ! I have not yet found the man, from Soissons to Reims, and from Reims to Chalons, or from the Lorraine to Germany, who is rich enough to match me ! This fruit is too high for your seeking !" "Cursed be' your father's wealth !" said the knight when he saw his sweetheart sweet-heart again. "I would go with you gladly, and be a beggar!" said she. "But my father is old, and prayers will not move him, for age and youth cannot understand each other. Yet I would counsel you. Have you not an uncle, fully as rich as my father? And Bo these, two not greatly honor each other? Why do you not ride to him and ask for his intercession?" inter-cession?" The knight took courage and rode to his aged relative, who not only agreed to help him, but started at once, telling tell-ing the knight to return to his own castle and wait for word from him. It was an evil word that reached him after a week of anxious waiting. A friend brought him the news that his uncle had wooed indeed, but not for his nephew. He had wooed and won for himself, and the girl, locked safely within the castle, could do nothing but wring her hands. Scarcely had the news reached the poor knight before one of the nobleman's noble-man's varlets arrived to ask him for his steed. "My lord prays you," was the message, "to lead your beautiful horse to carry his daughter in honor and state to the church on her wedding wed-ding morn." "May heaver, bless my wicked uncle never for this foul, treasonable deed !' lamented the knight. "He has killed me! Cain wrought no redder wrong! Yet I will send my hqrse gladly to her who gave me her dear love. It is the last service I can do her. Never shall I hear her sweet voice again or see her come to meet mo, dainty-fair! Saddle the horse with my best gear and lead It to the most tender of maidens !" That night the wedding company in the rich man's castle feasted and made so merry that when the warders sounded sound-ed their trumpets at dawu to awaken nil for the wedding journey to the church, city guests and guards were alike sleepy and before they had ridden rid-den far they were nodding in their saddles. sad-dles. Even those who were detailed to guard he bride rode with closed eyes. Soon tnere was none to guide the bride's horse, for she rode weeping with thoughts far away, and the reins lay idle on the animal's neck. When the procession entered a devious devi-ous forest trail, the horse, being left to itself, turned off on his own account and entered a hidden woodland path that led to Messire William's home. The weeping bride became aware at last that she was alone ; but as the horse ambled on with great gentleness, and she did not know which way to go, she permitted it to take her whither whith-er it would. Eoon it stopped before a Castle. |
