Supplemental Nights to The Book of the Thousand and One Nights by Sir Richard Francis Burton (suggested reading .TXT) 📖

grace to fynd my husbond.” And alle that nyght tines thre were in gladnes. On the morow the modir rose up, and the childryn, scil. the knyghtis, folowid; and as thei yede, the maister of the oste mette with hem in the strete and though he were her fader, he knew hem not, but[FN#569] as thei had manli fought the day afore; and therfor he salued hem honurably, and askid of hem what feir lady that was, that come with hem? Anon as his lady herd his voys, and perceyved a certeyn signe in his frount,[FN#570] she knew fully therby that it was her husbond; and therfore she ran to him, and crypt him and kyst him, and for joy fille doun to the erth, as she had be deaf. So aftir this passion, she was reised up; and then the maister seid to her, “Telle me, feir woman, whi thou clippest me, and kyssist me so?” She seid, “I am thi wif, that thou leftist with the maister of the ship; and tines two knyghtis bene your sonys. Loke wele on my front, and see.” Then the knyght byheld her were, with a good avisement,[FN#571] and knew wele by diverse tokyns that she was his wif; and anon kyst her, and the sonys eke; and blessid hiely God, that so had visited hem. Tho went he ayen to his fond, with his wif, and with his children, and endid faire his lif.

 

From the legend of St. Eustache the romances of Sir Isumbras, Octavian, Sir Eglamour of Artois, and Sir Torrent of Portugal are derived. In the last, while the hero is absent aiding the king of Norway with his sword, his wife Desonelle is delivered of twins, and her father, King Calamond, out of his hatred of her, causes her and the babes to be put to sea in a boat; but a favourable wind saves them from destruction, and drives the boat upon the coast of Palestine. As she is wandering aimlessly along the shore, a huge griffin appears and seizes one of her children, and immediately after a leopard drags away the other. With submission she suffers her miserable fate, relying on the help of the Holy Virgin. The king of Jerusalem, just returning from a voyage, happened to find the leopard with the child, which he ordered to be saved and delivered to him. Seeing from the foundling’s golden ring that the child was of noble descent, and pitying its helpless state, he took it into his palace, and brought him up as if he were his own son, at his court. The dragon with the other child was seen by a pious hermit, St. Antony, who, though son of the king of Greece, had in his youth forsaken the world. Through his prayer St. Mary made the dragon put down the infant. Antony carried him to his father, who adopted him and ordered him to be baptised. Desonelle wandered up and down, after the loss of her children, till she happened to meet the king of Nazareth hunting.

He, recognising her as the king of Portugal’s daughter, gave her a kind welcome and assistance, and at his court she lived several years in happy retirement. Ultimately she is reunited to her husband and her two sons, when they have become famous knights.

 

The following is an epitome of “Sir Isumbras,” from Ellis’s “Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances” (Bohr’s ed. p. 479

ff.):

 

ROMANCE OF SIR ISUMBRAS.

 

There was once a knight, who, from his earliest infancy, appeared to be the peculiar favourite of Fortune. His birth was noble; his person equally remarkable for strength and beauty, his possessions so extensive as to furnish the amusements of hawking and hunting in the highest perfection. Though he had found no opportunity of signalising his courage in war, he had borne away the prize at numberless tournaments; his courtesy was the theme of general praise; his hall was the seat of unceasing plenty; it was crowded with minstrels, whom he entertained with princely liberality, and the possession of a beautiful wife and three lovely children completed the sum of earthly happiness.

 

Sir Isumbras had many virtues, but he had one vice. In the pride of his heart he forgot the Giver of all good things, and considered the blessings so abundantly showered upon him as the proper and just reward of his distinguished merit. Instances of this overweening presumption might perhaps be found in all ages among the possessors of wealth and power; but few sinners have the good fortune to be recalled, like Sir Isumbras, by a severe but salutary punishment, to the pious sentiments of Christian humility.

 

It was usual with knights to amuse themselves with hawking or hunting whenever they were not occupied by some more serious business; and, as business seldom intervened, they thus amused themselves every day in the year. One morning, being mounted on his favourite steed, surrounded by his dogs, and with a hawk on his wrist, Sir Isumbras cast his eyes on the sky, and discovered an angel, who, hovering over him, reproached him with his pride, and announced the punishment of instant and complete degradation.

The terrified knight immediately fell on his knees; acknowledged the justice of his sentence; returned thanks to Heaven for deigning to visit him with adversity while the possession of youth and health enabled him to endure it; and, filled with contrition, prepared to return from the forest. But scarcely had the angel disappeared when his good steed suddenly fell dead under him, the hawk dropped from his wrist; his hounds wasted and expired; and, being thus left alone, he hastened on foot towards his palace, filled with melancholy forebodings, but impatient to learn the whole extent of his misfortune.

 

He was presently met by a part of his household, who, with many tears, informed him that his horses and oxen had been suddenly struck dead with lightning, and that his capons were all stung to death with adders. He received the tidings with humble resignation, commanded his servants to abstain from murmurs against Providence, and passed on. He was next met by a page, who related that his castle was burned to the ground, that many of his servants had lost their lives, and that his wife and children had with great difficulty escaped from the flames. Sir Isumbras, rejoiced that Heaven had yet spared those who were most dear to him, bestowed upon the astonished page his purse of gold as a reward for the intelligence.

 

A doleful sight then gan he see; His wife and children three Out of the fire were fled: There they sat, under a thorn, Bare and naked as they were born, Brought out of their bed.

A woful man then was he,

When he saw them all naked be, The lady said, all so blive, “For nothing, sir, be ye adrad.”

He did off his surcoat of pallade,[FN#572]

And with it clad his wife.

His scarlet mantle then shore[FN#573] he; Therein he closed his children three That naked before him stood.

 

He then proposed to his wife that, as an expiation of their sins, they should at once under take a pilgrimage to Jerusalem; so, cutting with his knife a sign of the cross on his bare shoulder, he set off with the four companions of his misery resolving to beg his bread till they should arrive at the Holy Sepulchre.

After passing through “seven lands,” supported by the scanty alms of the charitable, they arrived at length at a forest, where they wandered during three days without meeting a single habitation.

Their food was reduced to the few berries which they were able to collect; and the children, unaccustomed to such hard fare began to sink under the accumulated difficulties of their journey. In this situation they were stopped by a wide and rapid though shallow river. Sir Isumbras, taking his eldest son in his arms, carried him over to the opposite bank and placing him under a bush of broom, directed him to dry his tears, and amuse himself by playing with the blossoms till his return with his brothers.

But scarcely had he left the place when lion, starting from a neighbouring thicket, seized the child and bore him away into the recesses of the forest. The second son became, in like manner,-

the prey of an enormous leopard, and the disconsolate mother, when carried over with her infant to the fatal spot, was with difficulty persuaded to survive the loss of her two elder children. Sir Isumbras, though he could not repress the tears extorted by this cruel calamity, exerted himself to console his wife and humbly confessing his sins, contented himself with praying that his present misery might be accepted by Heaven as a partial expiation.

 

Through forest they went days three, Till they came to the Greekish sea; They grette,[FN#574] and were full wo!

As they stood upon the land, They saw a fleet sailand,[FN#575]

Three hundred ships and mo.[FN#576]

With top-casters set on-loft, Richly then were they wrought, With joy and mickle[FN#577] pride: A heathen king was therein, That Christendom came to win; His power was full wide.

 

It was now seven days since the pilgrims had tasted bread or meat, the soudan’s[FN#578] galley therefore, was no sooner moored to the beach than the hastened on board to beg for food The soudan, under the apprehension that they were spies, ordered them to be driven back on shore; but his attendants observed to him that these could not be common beggars that the robust limbs and tall stature of the husband proved him to be a knight in disguise, and that the delicate complexion of the wife, who was “bright as blossom on tree,” formed a striking contrast to the ragged apparel with which she was very imperfectly covered. They were now brought into the royal presence; and the soudan, addressing Sir Isumbras, immediately offered him as much treasure as he should require, on condition that he should renounce Christianity and consent to fight under the Saracen banners. The answer was a respectful but peremptory refusal, concluded by an earnest petition for a little food; but the soudan, having by this time turned his eyes from Sir Isumbras to the beautiful companion of his pilgrimage, paid no attention to his request.

 

The soudan beheld that lady there, Him thought an angel that she were, Comen a-down from heaven; “Man! I will give thee gold and fee, An thou that woman will sellen me, More than thou can neven.[FN#579]

I will give thee an hundred pound Of pennies that been whole and round, And rich robes seven:

She shall be queen of my land, And all men bow unto her hand, And none withstand her steven.”[FN#580]

Sir Isumbras said, “Nay!

My wife I will nought sell away, Though ye me for her sloo![FN#581]

I weddid her in Goddislay, To hold her to mine ending day, Both for weal and wo.”

 

It evidently would require no small share of casuistry to construe this declaration into an acceptance of the bargain, but the Saracens, having heard the offer of their sovereign, deliberately counted out the stipulated sum on the mantle of Sir Isumbras; took possession of the lady, carried the knight with his infant son on shore; beat him till he was scarcely able to move, and then returned for further orders. During this operation, the soudan, with his own hand, placed the regal crown on the head of his intended bride; but recollecting that the original project of the voyage to Europe was to conquer it, which might possibly occasion a loss of some time, he delayed his intended nuptial, and ordered a fast-sailing vessel to convey her to his dominions, providing her at the same time with a charter addressed to his subjects, in which he