Stories from the Faerie Queen, Told to the Children

THE QUEST OF SIR GUYON

Long ago, on the first day of every year, the Queen of the Fairies used to give a great feast.

On that day all the bravest of her knights came to her court, and when people wanted help to slay a dragon or a savage beast, or to drive away a witch or wicked fairy, they also came and told their stories.

To one of those feasts there came an old palmer dressed in black. His hair was grey, and he leaned heavily on his long staff. He told a sad tale of the evil things done in his land by a wicked witch.

The Faery Queen turned to Guyon, one of the bravest and handsomest of her young knights. ‘You shall go with this old man and save his land,’ she said to him.

‘I am not worthy,’ said Sir Guyon, ‘but I will do your bidding and my best.’

So he rode away with the palmer. His good horse had never paced so slowly before, for Guyon made him keep step with the feeble old man.

It was not possible to go far from the fairy court without having fights and adventures, but in every fight Guyon was the victor, because he listened to what the good old palmer said, and did not think that he himself knew better.

One day they came to a wide river on which floated a little boat, all decked out with green branches. In it sat a fair lady, who sang and laughed and seemed very happy and very gay. She was a servant of the wicked witch for whom Guyon was looking, but this Guyon did not know. She offered to ferry Guyon across the river, but she said there was no room in her boat for the palmer.

Guyon thought she looked so pretty and merry, and so kind, that he gladly went with her.

Together they gaily sailed down the river. When the birds sang, she sang along with them, and when little waves gurgled and laughed against the side of the boat, she laughed too.

But soon Guyon found that she was not really good, and he loved her gay laugh no longer, and presently left her and wandered on alone in the island to which she had brought him.

At last he came to a gloomy glen where trees and shrubs grew so thickly that no sunlight could get in. Sitting there in the darkness he found a rough and ugly man. His face was tanned with smoke and his eyes were bleared. Great heaps of gold lay about him on every side. When he saw Guyon, he dashed in a great fright at his money, and began to try to pour it into a hole and hide it, lest Guyon should steal it from him.

But Guyon ran quickly at him and caught him by the arm.

‘Who are you,’ he asked, ‘who hide your money in this lonely place, instead of using it rightly or giving it away?’

To which the man answered, ‘I am Mammon, the Money God. I am the greatest god beneath the sky. If you will be my servant, all this money shall be yours. Or if this be not gold enough for you, a mountain of gold, ten times more than what you see, shall be your very own.’

But Guyon shook his head. ‘I want none of your gold,’ said he.

‘Fair shields, gay steeds, bright arms be my delight,
Those be the riches fit for an adventurous knight.’

Then said the Money God, ‘Money will buy you all those things. It can buy you crowns and kingdoms.’

‘Money brings wars and wrongs, bloodshed and bitterness,’ said Guyon. ‘You may keep your gold.’

The Money God grew angry then.

‘You do not know what you refuse,’ he said. ‘Come with me and see.’

Guyon the fearless followed him into the thickest of the bushes and down a dark opening in the ground.

On and on they went through the darkness. Ugly things came and glared at them, and owls and night ravens flapped their wings, but Guyon had no fear.

At length they came to a huge cave whose roof and floor and walls were all of gold, but the gold was dimmed by dust and cobwebs. A light like the light of the moon from behind a dark cloud showed Guyon great iron chests and coffers full of money, but the ground was strewn with the skulls and dry bones of men who had tried to get the gold, and who had failed and perished there.

‘Will you serve me now?’ asked Mammon. ‘Only be my servant, and all these riches shall be yours.’

‘I will not serve you,’ answered Guyon. ‘I place a higher happiness before my eyes.’

Then Mammon led him into another room where were a hundred blazing furnaces.

Hideous slaves of the Money God blew bellows and stirred the flames, and ladled out of huge caldrons on the fires great spoonfuls of molten gold. When they saw Guyon in his shining armour, they stopped their work and stared at him in fear and amazement. Never before had they seen any one who was not as horrible and as ugly as themselves. Once again Mammon offered him the gold he saw, but again Guyon refused it.

Then did he bring him to a place where was a gate of beaten gold. Through this gate they passed, and Guyon found himself in a vast golden room, upheld by golden pillars that shone and sparkled with precious stones.

On a throne in this room sat a beautiful lady, dressed in clothes more gorgeous than any that the greatest king on earth ever wore.

‘That is my daughter,’ said Mammon. ‘She shall be your wife, and all these treasures that are too great to be counted shall be yours, if only you will be my servant.’

‘I thank you, Mammon,’ said Guyon, ‘but my love is given to another lady.’

The Money God was full of rage, yet still he thought that he might win Guyon to his will. He took him to a garden where dark cypresses hung their heads over the flaming blossoms of poppies that made men sleep for ever, and where every sort of poisonous flower and shrub flourished richly. It was called the Garden of Proserpine.

The most beautiful thing in the garden was a great tree, thickly leaved and heavily hung with shining golden apples. The branches of the tree hung their golden fruit over a dark river.

When Guyon went to the river’s brink and looked in, he saw many men struggling and moaning in the dark and fearful water. Some were trying to grasp the fruit that hung just beyond their reach, and others were trying vainly to get out.

‘You fool!’ said Mammon, ‘why do you not pick some of the golden fruit that hangs so easily within your reach?’

But Guyon, although for three long days and nights he had been without sleep and meat and drink in the dark land of the Money God, was too true and good a knight to do what Mammon wished. Had he picked the fruit, he would have put himself in Mammon’s power, and at once been torn into a thousand pieces.

‘I will not take the fruit,’ he said; ‘I will not be your slave.’

And then, for days and days, Guyon knew no more.

When he came to himself and opened his eyes, he found that his head was resting on the knee of the good old palmer.

After the witch’s beautiful servant had rowed Guyon away, the palmer had tried and tried to find a means of crossing the river, until at last he succeeded.

Day after day he sought Guyon, until one day a fairy voice called to him, loud and clear, ‘Come hither! hither! oh come hastily!’

He hurried to the place from whence the voice came, and in the dark thicket where Mammon had sat and counted his gold, he found Guyon lying.

A beautiful spirit with golden hair and shining wings of many colours, like the wings of a lovely bird, sat by Guyon’s side, keeping all enemies and evil things far from him.

When Guyon felt able for the journey, he and the palmer went on with their travels, and he had many fights and many adventures. But ever after he had been tempted to be Mammon’s slave and had resisted him, he was a better and a braver knight.

All his battles ended in victories, and he helped all those who needed help, and at last he and the palmer reached the shore of the sea across which was the land of the wicked witch.

They got a little boat, and a boatman to row them, and for two days they were far out at sea.

On the morning of the third day, Guyon and the others heard the sound of raging water. In the trembling light of the dawn that was spreading across the sea they saw great waves casting themselves high into the sky.

It was a gulf, called the Gulf of Greediness, and in its furious waves many ships were wrecked. But the palmer steered so straight and well that he guided the little boat without harm through the angry seas.