Phantastes, A Faerie Romance - Page 109/147

"I am sad," he said, "when I think of the youth whom I met twice in the

forests of Fairy Land; and who, you say, twice, with his songs, roused

you from the death-sleep of an evil enchantment. There was something

noble in him, but it was a nobleness of thought, and not of deed. He may

yet perish of vile fear."

"Ah!" returned the lady, "you saved him once, and for that I thank you;

for may I not say that I somewhat loved him? But tell me how you fared,

when you struck your battle-axe into the ash-tree, and he came and found

you; for so much of the story you had told me, when the beggar-child

came and took you away."

"As soon as I saw him," rejoined the knight, "I knew that earthly arms

availed not against such as he; and that my soul must meet him in its

naked strength. So I unclasped my helm, and flung it on the ground; and,

holding my good axe yet in my hand, gazed at him with steady eyes. On

he came, a horror indeed, but I did not flinch. Endurance must conquer,

where force could not reach. He came nearer and nearer, till the ghastly

face was close to mine. A shudder as of death ran through me; but I

think I did not move, for he seemed to quail, and retreated. As soon

as he gave back, I struck one more sturdy blow on the stem of his tree,

that the forest rang; and then looked at him again. He writhed and

grinned with rage and apparent pain, and again approached me, but

retreated sooner than before. I heeded him no more, but hewed with a

will at the tree, till the trunk creaked, and the head bowed, and with a

crash it fell to the earth. Then I looked up from my labour, and lo! the

spectre had vanished, and I saw him no more; nor ever in my wanderings

have I heard of him again."

"Well struck! well withstood! my hero," said the lady.

"But," said the knight, somewhat troubled, "dost thou love the youth

still?"

"Ah!" she replied, "how can I help it? He woke me from worse than death;

he loved me. I had never been for thee, if he had not sought me first.

But I love him not as I love thee. He was but the moon of my night; thou

art the sun of my clay, O beloved."