1S24.] 



Aiiglitof bis love, and feasts upon the thought 

 So comfortably, that slie seems to breathe 

 And swim in flood; of love, — is full of joy 

 And happiness; yet she can iitler nothing, 

 As if afraid to break into her bliss 

 By speaking. 



Thus awhile they rode ; 

 When a small pathway cross'd them in the 



forest, 

 Which led down to a well. And thither Geron 

 Guided his horse's rein, and said, ' My lady, 

 A weariness, remainiiia from the tourney 

 And from this morning's toil, is come upon 



me. 

 If you approve, I very much should like 

 To take some rest beside the well that 's 



yonder.' 

 * Sir,' said the lady, blushing, ' do your 



pleasure.' 



" He took the pathway to the well, and she 

 Rode silent after him. When they were there. 

 Sir Geron first alighted, to a tree 

 Fastcn'd iiis horse, and tlien put forth liis hand 

 To help the dame of Maloane to dismount. 



" A fresh green turf, bedg'd round with copse 



and bushes. 

 And pleasantly o'ersbadow'd by the trees, 

 Grew there ; it was a place as snug and quiet, 

 And fashiou'd for repose, as could be vvish'd. 

 There, when he took his lady from the horse 

 Into his arms, be gently sat her down. 

 Then he began to take his armure off 

 Slowly, and piece by piece ; laid down his 



helmet. 

 And his black shield; unbuckled from bis 



shoulders 

 The heavy pouldrons, plac'd them on the rim 

 Of the walled well ; and the good sword upon 



them, 

 Which once the spotless knight, Hector the 



Brown, 

 Had wielded, and beqneath'd to him when 



dying; 

 And which, for its first owner's sake, to him 

 "Was still so dear, he'd not have taken for it 

 The very best of all King Uther's castles. 

 " But in this moment of intoxication 

 He thought but little of his sword, but little 

 Of the high duties to which he was pledg'd 

 Who, after Hector, should presume to wield 



it. 

 For the first time in his whole life forsook him 

 His faithfulness, his honour. A hot hunger 

 For the sweet fruits of love, alas! had stifled 

 The nobler feelings of his soul. Geron 

 Is Geron now no longer, has forgotten 

 His Danayn, — forgotten his best self; 

 He hastens now, with wild and rash impa- 

 tience, 

 Quite to disarm himself. 



Meanwhile the lady, 

 Sweetly asham'd, her lovely eyes cast down 

 Upon her lap, sat silent, scarcely daring 

 Even to breathe. 



And lo ! it somehow happcn'd 

 That, just as Geron was approaching her. 

 He brush'd against the low wall of the well, 

 Monthly Mag. No. 3<>7. 



Wieland's " Giron le Courteois. 



511 



Where he had pil'd his weapons on each other. 

 And the good sword slid down into the 



water. 

 Now, when he heard the splash, be quickly 



leaves 

 The lovely lady, runs to save the sword. 

 And draws it out, and wipes it very dry ; 

 And as he look'd along it narrowly, 

 To see if 'twas uninjui'd, his eye caught 

 The golden letters on the blade inscrib'd 

 By Hector's order. As he read, he trembled. 

 He reads again ; it was as had the words 

 Never before impress'd him. All the spell 

 At once was broke. 



He stands with the good sword 

 Bare in his hand, and sinks into himself: 

 * Where am I ? God in heaven ! what a deed 

 I was come here to do.' And his knees 



tottcr'd 

 Now at the thought. The sword still in his 



hand. 

 He oil the margin of the well sat down. 

 His back toward the lady, full of sorrow, 

 And sinking from one sad tliought to another. 

 " Now when the lady, who so late ago 

 Beheld him blithe and gay, thus suddenly 

 Perceiv'd him falling in strange melancholy, 

 She was alarm'd,and knew not what to think, 

 And came to him with gentle timid step, 

 And said, ' What ails you, sir; what are you 



planning ?' 



"Geron, unheeding her, still bent his eyes 

 Steadfast upon his sword, and made no 



answer. 

 She waited long, and, as he gave her none. 

 She stepp'd still nearer, and with tenderest 



voice 

 Again repeated, ' My dear sir, what ails you ?' 

 He, deeply sighing, answered, ' What I ail, — 

 May God in heaven have mercy on niy soni ! 

 Against my brother l>anayn I have sinned, 

 And am not worthy now to live.' He spoke, 

 And once again began to eye his sword, 

 Then said, with broken voice, 'Thou trusty 



blade, 

 Into whose hands art thou now fallen ? He 

 Was quite another man who us'd to wield 



thee. 

 No faithless thought e'er came across his 



heart 

 In his whole life. Forgive me : I no more 

 Can now deserve to wear thee. I'll avenge 

 Both thee and him, who once hop'd better of 



me. 

 When to my keeping he entrusted thee.' 

 And now he rais'd his arm ; and, ere the lady, 

 Helpless from terror, could attempt to hinder. 

 He ran his body through and through, — then 



drew 

 The weapon out, aud would have given 



himself 

 Another stab, but that the dame of Maloane, 

 With all the force of love and of despair. 

 Fell on his arm. 



* Good knight, for God's sake spare 

 Your precious life ; slay not yourself, and me. 

 So cruelly for nothing.' 



3 U «' Lady, 



