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<h2> CHAPTER XXI </h2>
<p>"I put my life in my hands."—The Book of Judges.<br/></p>
<p>At length, with much toil and equal delight, our armour was finished.
We armed each other, and tested the strength of the defence, with many
blows of loving force. I was inferior in strength to both my brothers,
but a little more agile than either; and upon this agility, joined to
precision in hitting with the point of my weapon, I grounded my hopes of
success in the ensuing combat. I likewise laboured to develop yet more
the keenness of sight with which I was naturally gifted; and, from the
remarks of my companions, I soon learned that my endeavours were not in
vain.</p>
<p>The morning arrived on which we had determined to make the attempt,
and succeed or perish—perhaps both. We had resolved to fight on foot;
knowing that the mishap of many of the knights who had made the attempt,
had resulted from the fright of their horses at the appearance of the
giants; and believing with Sir Gawain, that, though mare's sons might
be false to us, the earth would never prove a traitor. But most of our
preparations were, in their immediate aim at least, frustrated.</p>
<p>We rose, that fatal morning, by daybreak. We had rested from all labour
the day before, and now were fresh as the lark. We bathed in cold
spring water, and dressed ourselves in clean garments, with a sense of
preparation, as for a solemn festivity. When we had broken our fast,
I took an old lyre, which I had found in the tower and had myself
repaired, and sung for the last time the two ballads of which I have
said so much already. I followed them with this, for a closing song:</p>
<p>Oh, well for him who breaks his dream<br/>
With the blow that ends the strife<br/>
And, waking, knows the peace that flows<br/>
Around the pain of life!<br/>
<br/>
We are dead, my brothers! Our bodies clasp,<br/>
As an armour, our souls about;<br/>
This hand is the battle-axe I grasp,<br/>
And this my hammer stout.<br/>
<br/>
Fear not, my brothers, for we are dead;<br/>
No noise can break our rest;<br/>
The calm of the grave is about the head,<br/>
And the heart heaves not the breast.<br/>
<br/>
And our life we throw to our people back,<br/>
To live with, a further store;<br/>
We leave it them, that there be no lack<br/>
In the land where we live no more.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, well for him who breaks his dream<br/>
With the blow that ends the strife<br/>
And, waking, knows the peace that flows<br/>
Around the noise of life!<br/>
<br/>
As the last few tones of the instrument were following, like a<br/>
dirge, the death of the song, we all sprang to our feet. For, through<br/>
one of the little windows of the tower, towards which I had looked as<br/>
I sang, I saw, suddenly rising over the edge of the slope on which our<br/>
tower stood, three enormous heads. The brothers knew at once, by my<br/>
looks, what caused my sudden movement. We were utterly unarmed, and<br/>
there was no time to arm.<br/></p>
<p>But we seemed to adopt the same resolution simultaneously; for each
caught up his favourite weapon, and, leaving his defence behind, sprang
to the door. I snatched up a long rapier, abruptly, but very finely
pointed, in my sword-hand, and in the other a sabre; the elder brother
seized his heavy battle-axe; and the younger, a great, two-handed sword,
which he wielded in one hand like a feather. We had just time to get
clear of the tower, embrace and say good-bye, and part to some little
distance, that we might not encumber each other's motions, ere the
triple giant-brotherhood drew near to attack us. They were about twice
our height, and armed to the teeth. Through the visors of their helmets
their monstrous eyes shone with a horrible ferocity. I was in the middle
position, and the middle giant approached me. My eyes were busy with his
armour, and I was not a moment in settling my mode of attack. I saw that
his body-armour was somewhat clumsily made, and that the overlappings
in the lower part had more play than necessary; and I hoped that, in
a fortunate moment, some joint would open a little, in a visible and
accessible part. I stood till he came near enough to aim a blow at me
with the mace, which has been, in all ages, the favourite weapon of
giants, when, of course, I leaped aside, and let the blow fall upon the
spot where I had been standing. I expected this would strain the joints
of his armour yet more. Full of fury, he made at me again; but I kept
him busy, constantly eluding his blows, and hoping thus to fatigue him.
He did not seem to fear any assault from me, and I attempted none as
yet; but while I watched his motions in order to avoid his blows, I, at
the same time, kept equal watch upon those joints of his armour, through
some one of which I hoped to reach his life. At length, as if somewhat
fatigued, he paused a moment, and drew himself slightly up; I bounded
forward, foot and hand, ran my rapier right through to the armour of
his back, let go the hilt, and passing under his right arm, turned as
he fell, and flew at him with my sabre. At one happy blow I divided the
band of his helmet, which fell off, and allowed me, with a second cut
across the eyes, to blind him quite; after which I clove his head, and
turned, uninjured, to see how my brothers had fared. Both the giants
were down, but so were my brothers. I flew first to the one and then
to the other couple. Both pairs of combatants were dead, and yet locked
together, as in the death-struggle. The elder had buried his battle-axe
in the body of his foe, and had fallen beneath him as he fell. The giant
had strangled him in his own death-agonies. The younger had nearly hewn
off the left leg of his enemy; and, grappled with in the act, had,
while they rolled together on the earth, found for his dagger a passage
betwixt the gorget and cuirass of the giant, and stabbed him mortally in
the throat. The blood from the giant's throat was yet pouring over the
hand of his foe, which still grasped the hilt of the dagger sheathed
in the wound. They lay silent. I, the least worthy, remained the sole
survivor in the lists.</p>
<p>As I stood exhausted amidst the dead, after the first worthy deed of my
life, I suddenly looked behind me, and there lay the Shadow, black in
the sunshine. I went into the lonely tower, and there lay the useless
armour of the noble youths—supine as they.</p>
<p>Ah, how sad it looked! It was a glorious death, but it was death. My
songs could not comfort me now. I was almost ashamed that I was alive,
when they, the true-hearted, were no more. And yet I breathed freer to
think that I had gone through the trial, and had not failed. And perhaps
I may be forgiven, if some feelings of pride arose in my bosom, when I
looked down on the mighty form that lay dead by my hand.</p>
<p>"After all, however," I said to myself, and my heart sank, "it was only
skill. Your giant was but a blunderer."</p>
<p>I left the bodies of friends and foes, peaceful enough when the
death-fight was over, and, hastening to the country below, roused the
peasants. They came with shouting and gladness, bringing waggons to
carry the bodies. I resolved to take the princes home to their father,
each as he lay, in the arms of his country's foe. But first I searched
the giants, and found the keys of their castle, to which I repaired,
followed by a great company of the people. It was a place of wonderful
strength. I released the prisoners, knights and ladies, all in a sad
condition, from the cruelties and neglects of the giants. It humbled me
to see them crowding round me with thanks, when in truth the glorious
brothers, lying dead by their lonely tower, were those to whom the
thanks belonged. I had but aided in carrying out the thought born
in their brain, and uttered in visible form before ever I laid hold
thereupon. Yet I did count myself happy to have been chosen for their
brother in this great deed.</p>
<p>After a few hours spent in refreshing and clothing the prisoners, we all
commenced our journey towards the capital. This was slow at first; but,
as the strength and spirits of the prisoners returned, it became more
rapid; and in three days we reached the palace of the king. As we
entered the city gates, with the huge bulks lying each on a waggon drawn
by horses, and two of them inextricably intertwined with the dead bodies
of their princes, the people raised a shout and then a cry, and followed
in multitudes the solemn procession.</p>
<p>I will not attempt to describe the behaviour of the grand old king. Joy
and pride in his sons overcame his sorrow at their loss. On me he heaped
every kindness that heart could devise or hand execute. He used to sit
and question me, night after night, about everything that was in any
way connected with them and their preparations. Our mode of life,
and relation to each other, during the time we spent together, was a
constant theme. He entered into the minutest details of the construction
of the armour, even to a peculiar mode of riveting some of the plates,
with unwearying interest. This armour I had intended to beg of the king,
as my sole memorials of the contest; but, when I saw the delight he took
in contemplating it, and the consolation it appeared to afford him in
his sorrow, I could not ask for it; but, at his request, left my own,
weapons and all, to be joined with theirs in a trophy, erected in the
grand square of the palace. The king, with gorgeous ceremony, dubbed me
knight with his own old hand, in which trembled the sword of his youth.</p>
<p>During the short time I remained, my company was, naturally, much
courted by the young nobles. I was in a constant round of gaiety and
diversion, notwithstanding that the court was in mourning. For the
country was so rejoiced at the death of the giants, and so many of their
lost friends had been restored to the nobility and men of wealth, that
the gladness surpassed the grief. "Ye have indeed left your lives to
your people, my great brothers!" I said.</p>
<p>But I was ever and ever haunted by the old shadow, which I had not seen
all the time that I was at work in the tower. Even in the society of the
ladies of the court, who seemed to think it only their duty to make
my stay there as pleasant to me as possible, I could not help being
conscious of its presence, although it might not be annoying me at the
time. At length, somewhat weary of uninterrupted pleasure, and nowise
strengthened thereby, either in body or mind, I put on a splendid suit
of armour of steel inlaid with silver, which the old king had given
me, and, mounting the horse on which it had been brought to me, took my
leave of the palace, to visit the distant city in which the lady dwelt,
whom the elder prince had loved. I anticipated a sore task, in conveying
to her the news of his glorious fate: but this trial was spared me, in a
manner as strange as anything that had happened to me in Fairy Land.</p>
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