Stories from the Faerie Queen, Told to the Children

On one side of the gulf was a great black rock where screaming seamews and cormorants sat and waited for ships to be wrecked. It was a magic rock, and the water round it tried to draw Guyon’s boat against its ragged sides, that it might be smashed to pieces like the other boats and ships whose broken fragments tossed up and down in the tide.

But so wisely did the palmer steer, and so strongly did the boatman row, that they safely passed the magic rock and got into calm water. And still the boatman rowed so hard that the little boat cut through the water like a silver blade, and the spray dashed off the oars into Guyon’s face.

‘I see land!’ at last called Guyon.

On every side they saw little islands. When they got nearer they found that they looked fresh and green and pleasant. Tall trees with blossoms of white and red grew on them.

‘Let us land!’ cried Guyon.

But the boatman shook his head.

‘Those are the Wandering Islands,’ he said. ‘They are magic islands, and if any one lands on one of them he must wander for ever and ever.’

On one island sat a beautiful lady, with her long hair flowing round her. She beckoned and called to them to come on shore, and when they would not listen she jumped into a little boat and rowed swiftly after them.

Then Guyon saw that it was the wicked witch’s beautiful servant, and they took no notice of her. So she got tired of coaxing, and went away, calling them names.

A terrible whirlpool, where the waves rushed furiously round and round, was the next danger that they met. Then, when they were free of that, a great storm arose, and every fierce and ugly fish and monster that ever lived in the sea came rushing at the boat from out the foaming waves, roaring as if they were going to devour them.

‘Have no fear,’ said the palmer to Guyon. ‘These ugly shapes were only made by the wicked witch to frighten you.’

With his palmer’s staff he smote the sea. The waves sank down to rest, and all the ugly monsters vanished away.

When the storm had ceased they saw on an island a lady, who wept and wailed and cried for help.

Guyon, who was always ready to help those who wanted help, wished at once to go to her.

But the palmer would not let him.

‘She is another of the servants of the witch,’ he said, ‘and is only pretending to be sad.’

They came then to a peaceful bay that lay in the shadow of a great grey hill, and from it came the sweetest music that Guyon had ever heard.

Five beautiful mermaids were swimming in the clear green water, and the melody of their song made Guyon long to stop and listen. They had made this song about Guyon:

‘O thou fair son of gentle fairy,
Thou art in mighty arms most magnified
Above all knights that ever battle tried.
O! turn thy rudder hitherward awhile,
Here may thy storm-beat vessel safely ride.
This is the port of rest from troublous toil,
The world’s sweet inn from pain and wearisome turmoil.’

The rolling sea gently echoed their music, and the breaking waves kept time with their voices. The very wind seemed to blend with the melody and make it so beautiful that Guyon longed and longed to go with them to their peaceful bay under the grey hill. But the palmer would not let him stop, and the boatman rowed onwards.

Then a thick, choking, grey mist crept over the sea and blotted out everything, and they could not tell where to steer. And round the boat flew great flocks of fierce birds and bats, smiting the voyagers in their faces with wicked wings.

Still the boatman rowed steadily on, and steadily the palmer steered, till the weather began to clear. And, when the fog was gone, they saw at last the fair land to which the Faerie Queen had sent Guyon, that he might save it from the magic of the wicked witch.

When they reached the shore the boatman stayed with his boat, and Guyon and the palmer landed. And the palmer was glad, for he felt that their task was nearly done.

Savage, roaring beasts rushed at them as soon as they reached the shore. But the palmer waved his staff at them, and they shrank trembling away. Soon Guyon and his guide came to the palace of the witch.

The palace was made of ivory as white as the foam of the sea, and it glittered with gold. At the ivory gate stood a young man decked with flowers, and holding a staff in his hand. He impudently held out a great bowl of wine for Guyon to drink. But Guyon threw the bowl on the ground, and broke the staff with which the man worked wicked magic.

Then Guyon and the palmer passed on, through rich gardens full of beautiful flowers, and came to another gate made of green boughs and branches. Over it spread a vine, from which hung great bunches of grapes, red, and green, and purple and gold.

A beautiful lady stood by the gate. She reached up to a bunch of purple grapes, and squeezed their juice into a golden cup and offered it to Guyon. But Guyon dashed the cup to the ground, and left her raging at him.

Past trees and flowers and clear fountains they went, and all the time through this lovely place there rang magic music. Sweet voices, the song of birds, the whispering winds, the sound of silvery instruments, and the murmur of water all blended together to make melody.

The farther they went, the more beautiful were the sights they saw, and the sweeter the music.

At last, lying on a bed of red roses, they found the wicked witch.

Softly they crept through the flowery shrubs to where she lay, and before she knew that they were near, Guyon threw over her a net that the palmer had made. She struggled wildly to free herself, but before she could escape, Guyon bound her fast with chains.

Then he broke down and destroyed the palace, and all the things that had seemed so beautiful, but that were only a part of her wicked magic.

As Guyon and the palmer led the witch by her chains to their boat that waited by the shore, the fierce beasts that had attacked them when they landed came roaring at them again.

But the palmer touched each one with his staff, and at once they were turned into men. For it was only the witch’s magic that had made them beasts. One of them, named Gryll, who had been a pig, was angry with the palmer, and said he had far rather stay a pig than be a man.

‘Let Gryll be Gryll, and have his hoggish mind,
But let us hence depart whilst weather serves and wind,’

said the palmer.

So they sailed away to the fairy court, and gave their wicked prisoner to the queen to be punished.

And Sir Guyon was ready once again to do the Faerie Queen’s commands, to war against all evil things, and to fight bravely for the right.

V

PASTORELLA

Long, long ago, in a far-away land, there lived a great noble, called the Lord of Many Islands. He had a beautiful daughter named Claribel, and he wished her to marry a rich prince.

But Claribel loved a brave young knight, and she married him without her father’s knowledge.

The Lord of Many Islands was fearfully angry when he found out that she was married.

He threw the young knight into one dark dungeon and Claribel into another, and there they were imprisoned for years and years, until the Lord of Many Islands was dead. Claribel was rich then, and she and her husband would have been very happy together, but for a great loss that they had had.

While she was in prison a little baby girl came to Claribel. She feared that her angry father might kill the baby if he knew that it had been born, so she gave it to her maid, and told her to give it to some one to take care of.

The maid carried the child far away to where there were no houses, but only wild moors and thick woods. There was no one there to give it to, but she dared not take it back in case its grandfather might kill it. She did not know what to do, and she cried and cried until the baby’s clothes were quite wet with her tears.