ariondas/full_text_dataset · Datasets at Hugging Face

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----In the midst was seen
A lady of a more majestic mien,
By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign Queen.
* * * * *
And as in beauty she surpass'd the choir,
So nobler than the rest was her attire;
A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow,
Plain without pomp, and rich without a show;
A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand,
She bore aloft her symbol of command.
The Flower and the Leaf

William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, the marshals of the field,
were the first to offer their congratulations to the victor, praying
him, at the same time, to suffer his helmet to be unlaced, or, at least,
that he would raise his visor ere they conducted him to receive
the prize of the day's tourney from the hands of Prince John. The
Disinherited Knight, with all knightly courtesy, declined their request,
alleging, that he could not at this time suffer his face to be seen, for
reasons which he had assigned to the heralds when he entered the lists.
The marshals were perfectly satisfied by this reply; for amidst the
frequent and capricious vows by which knights were accustomed to bind
themselves in the days of chivalry, there were none more common than
those by which they engaged to remain incognito for a certain space, or
until some particular adventure was achieved. The marshals, therefore,
pressed no farther into the mystery of the Disinherited Knight, but,
announcing to Prince John the conqueror's desire to remain unknown, they
requested permission to bring him before his Grace, in order that he
might receive the reward of his valour.

John's curiosity was excited by the mystery observed by the stranger;
and, being already displeased with the issue of the tournament, in which
the challengers whom he favoured had been successively defeated by one
knight, he answered haughtily to the marshals, "By the light of Our
Lady's brow, this same knight hath been disinherited as well of his
courtesy as of his lands, since he desires to appear before us without
uncovering his face.--Wot ye, my lords," he said, turning round to his
train, "who this gallant can be, that bears himself thus proudly?"

"I cannot guess," answered De Bracy, "nor did I think there had been
within the four seas that girth Britain a champion that could bear down
these five knights in one day's jousting. By my faith, I shall never
forget the force with which he shocked De Vipont. The poor Hospitaller
was hurled from his saddle like a stone from a sling."

"Boast not of that," said a Knight of St John, who was present;
"your Temple champion had no better luck. I saw your brave lance,
Bois-Guilbert, roll thrice over, grasping his hands full of sand at
every turn."

De Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have replied, but was
prevented by Prince John. "Silence, sirs!" he said; "what unprofitable
debate have we here?"

"The victor," said De Wyvil, "still waits the pleasure of your
highness."

"It is our pleasure," answered John, "that he do so wait until we learn
whether there is not some one who can at least guess at his name and
quality. Should he remain there till night-fall, he has had work enough
to keep him warm."

"Your Grace," said Waldemar Fitzurse, "will do less than due honour to
the victor, if you compel him to wait till we tell your highness that
which we cannot know; at least I can form no guess--unless he be one of
the good lances who accompanied King Richard to Palestine, and who are
now straggling homeward from the Holy Land."

"It may be the Earl of Salisbury," said De Bracy; "he is about the same
pitch."

"Sir Thomas de Multon, the Knight of Gilsland, rather," said Fitzurse;
"Salisbury is bigger in the bones." A whisper arose among the train,
but by whom first suggested could not be ascertained. "It might be the
King--it might be Richard Coeur-de-Lion himself!"

"Over God's forbode!" said Prince John, involuntarily turning at the
same time as pale as death, and shrinking as if blighted by a flash of
lightning; "Waldemar!--De Bracy! brave knights and gentlemen, remember
your promises, and stand truly by me!"

"Here is no danger impending," said Waldemar Fitzurse; "are you so
little acquainted with the gigantic limbs of your father's son, as
to think they can be held within the circumference of yonder suit
of armour?--De Wyvil and Martival, you will best serve the Prince by
bringing forward the victor to the throne, and ending an error that has
conjured all the blood from his cheeks.--Look at him more closely," he
continued, "your highness will see that he wants three inches of King
Richard's height, and twice as much of his shoulder-breadth. The very
horse he backs, could not have carried the ponderous weight of King
Richard through a single course."

While he was yet speaking, the marshals brought forward the Disinherited
Knight to the foot of a wooden flight of steps, which formed the ascent
from the lists to Prince John's throne. Still discomposed with the idea

----In the midst was seen

A lady of a more majestic mien,

By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign Queen.

* * * * *

And as in beauty she surpass'd the choir,

So nobler than the rest was her attire;

A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow,

Plain without pomp, and rich without a show;

A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand,

She bore aloft her symbol of command.

The Flower and the Leaf

William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, the marshals of the field,

were the first to offer their congratulations to the victor, praying

him, at the same time, to suffer his helmet to be unlaced, or, at least,

that he would raise his visor ere they conducted him to receive

the prize of the day's tourney from the hands of Prince John. The

Disinherited Knight, with all knightly courtesy, declined their request,

alleging, that he could not at this time suffer his face to be seen, for

reasons which he had assigned to the heralds when he entered the lists.

The marshals were perfectly satisfied by this reply; for amidst the

frequent and capricious vows by which knights were accustomed to bind

themselves in the days of chivalry, there were none more common than

those by which they engaged to remain incognito for a certain space, or

until some particular adventure was achieved. The marshals, therefore,

pressed no farther into the mystery of the Disinherited Knight, but,

announcing to Prince John the conqueror's desire to remain unknown, they

requested permission to bring him before his Grace, in order that he

might receive the reward of his valour.

John's curiosity was excited by the mystery observed by the stranger;

and, being already displeased with the issue of the tournament, in which

the challengers whom he favoured had been successively defeated by one

knight, he answered haughtily to the marshals, "By the light of Our

Lady's brow, this same knight hath been disinherited as well of his

courtesy as of his lands, since he desires to appear before us without

uncovering his face.--Wot ye, my lords," he said, turning round to his

train, "who this gallant can be, that bears himself thus proudly?"

"I cannot guess," answered De Bracy, "nor did I think there had been

within the four seas that girth Britain a champion that could bear down

these five knights in one day's jousting. By my faith, I shall never

forget the force with which he shocked De Vipont. The poor Hospitaller

was hurled from his saddle like a stone from a sling."

"Boast not of that," said a Knight of St John, who was present;

"your Temple champion had no better luck. I saw your brave lance,

Bois-Guilbert, roll thrice over, grasping his hands full of sand at

every turn."

De Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have replied, but was

prevented by Prince John. "Silence, sirs!" he said; "what unprofitable

debate have we here?"

"The victor," said De Wyvil, "still waits the pleasure of your

highness."

"It is our pleasure," answered John, "that he do so wait until we learn

whether there is not some one who can at least guess at his name and

quality. Should he remain there till night-fall, he has had work enough

to keep him warm."

"Your Grace," said Waldemar Fitzurse, "will do less than due honour to

the victor, if you compel him to wait till we tell your highness that

which we cannot know; at least I can form no guess--unless he be one of

the good lances who accompanied King Richard to Palestine, and who are

now straggling homeward from the Holy Land."

"It may be the Earl of Salisbury," said De Bracy; "he is about the same

pitch."

"Sir Thomas de Multon, the Knight of Gilsland, rather," said Fitzurse;

"Salisbury is bigger in the bones." A whisper arose among the train,

but by whom first suggested could not be ascertained. "It might be the

King--it might be Richard Coeur-de-Lion himself!"

"Over God's forbode!" said Prince John, involuntarily turning at the

same time as pale as death, and shrinking as if blighted by a flash of

lightning; "Waldemar!--De Bracy! brave knights and gentlemen, remember

your promises, and stand truly by me!"

"Here is no danger impending," said Waldemar Fitzurse; "are you so

little acquainted with the gigantic limbs of your father's son, as

to think they can be held within the circumference of yonder suit

of armour?--De Wyvil and Martival, you will best serve the Prince by

bringing forward the victor to the throne, and ending an error that has

conjured all the blood from his cheeks.--Look at him more closely," he

continued, "your highness will see that he wants three inches of King

Richard's height, and twice as much of his shoulder-breadth. The very

horse he backs, could not have carried the ponderous weight of King

Richard through a single course."

While he was yet speaking, the marshals brought forward the Disinherited

Knight to the foot of a wooden flight of steps, which formed the ascent

from the lists to Prince John's throne. Still discomposed with the idea