Christabel - An Ending

Christabel - An Ending

Bracy, much troubled, made his way; As his master had him bid; But stopped at hermit's lonely cell; For his counsel sound to pray.

There too was lodged a goodly knight; Sir Knight was faithful, fearless and fey; Much skilled in war and might of arms; His shield with roses painted gay.

Bracy told of his troubled dream; And his fears for Sir Leoline's daughter dear; And of Lord Roland de Vaux of Tryermain; And of his daughter, the Lady Geraldine.

The hermit he bethought awhile; Then sighed and creased his furrowed brow; If ancient tales of old be true; Then the curse of Leoline's line's now due. Is there naught that we can say or do? Thou must do as thou art bid; I'll to Sir Leoline's castle tread.

The aged sire took up his staff; And a bag of curious make; Traced with signs most intricate; Of stars and moons and comets bright; In which were miraculous herbs and magyck charms; To ward off threat of evil's harms. He set off with that goodly knight; And through the woods their way did strike.

Three days their weary way did take; Till Sir Leoline's castle they did make; The hermit, as they reached the door; Said, Sir Knight, thy shield and sword withdraw; Lest dainty hearts be troubled sore.

Sire, quoth he, if fiend there be; Then sword and shield will needs be free. Sir Knight, the old man whispered low; If ancient tales of old be true; Tis not thy sword but faith in everlasting God; That will defeat thy foe.

The old man knocked upon the door; And demanded entrance in. The door itself did open wide; Though no wight there could be espied; And chill air flowed across the floor. All was quiet within and out; And no sound was to be heard; The mastiff bitch lay still and cold; And dead leaves, drifting, strew the court. They stepped forth and cast about; For signs of life they sought.

Slow they paced the silent stones; And passed through many a hall; But no sight nor sound of living wight; Could they find at all. Then, as they stopped to raise a latch; A dreadful wail did moan; Sir Knight he froze and breath did catch; And his very soul did groan.

Suddenly a hideous sight was seen; Beneath the carven stair; But ere could look the vision changed; And there stood the Lady Geraldine. My Lords, pray what brings you both here so; Through wild woods and grassy dale? Both tall and fair she seemed to be; As she eyed her aged foe.

Quoth he, I come to serve my Lord; As best as I can tell; And pay respects to his daughter dear; The Lady Christabel. Saith she, the Lady Christabel; With her father dear; Left yestereve, I know not where; And when back I cannot tell.

The old man muttered beneath his breath; And peered up into her face; The lady, tall, seemed taller still; But yet fell back a pace.

Meanwhile Sir Knight had searched around; And in a corner dark; Had spied a glimpse of something white: Christabel in garments bright; Lay as if in trance were bound.

He stooped over her comely form; And marvelled at her beauty rare; N'er yet had he seen one so fair; N'er else could he to her compare. Her flowing locks, her luscious lips; Fit for true love's loving kiss. Her eyes, like jewelled amethysts; Caressed by soft-curled eyelashes. Her cheeks, as pale as autumn mist; Her slender neck, her snowy breast; Fit for lover's head to rest. Her graceful charms, gifts from the Graces three; Which she wore with all due modesty; Her loveliness did much enhance; E'en though she lay there trapped in trance.

His proud heart trembled at the force; Of her beauty's radiance, whose inner source; With power undimmed by evil curse; Shone straight and pierced him through and through. But his heart then sank with bleak remorse; For her gentle hands and dainty limbs; Lay limp as if she were a corse.

The Lady Geraldine gestured wide; And said, for three days now has she here lied; With fevered brow and shallow breath; I fear that she may be near death. I know not what might be amiss; But cure may lie with true heart's kiss.

Sir Knight, uncertain, wondered much; As she with honeyed words her lies did tell; (for she could file her tongue full well); To tempt him to try to break the spell. But in his mind a shadow cast; And beauty turned to hideous shell; Then wavered and the vision passed.

Do not touch the gentle maid; The old man cried aloud; The spell is such that just one touch; And the maiden's life will fade. From his bag he took some herbs; Of magyck power and virtue pure; And uttered the secret sacred words; Which unbeknown destroyed the arts; That protected her from virtue's darts; And revealed to them her hideous parts.

She laughed and raised up high her hand; The old man staggered to the ground; She cried aloud in ancient tongue; Thunder shook and lightning rung; A dark cloud gathered all around; And fire flashed o'er the darkened land.

Sir Knight he buckled sword and shield; And strook her with such mighty force; That she a backward step and ground must yield; The hammer dint to ward. Sir Knight then lunged with courage hot; And this time his blow went home; With no spell to her protect; The point went deep into a vein; And her black blood did flow amain. The monster now began to fret; And sweat and at the mouth did foam.

The old man on one arm did rise; And with hoarse breath did murmur low; Words which doomed her to the dark abyss; And gripping staff, with raised eyes; Caught the monster a feeble blow. She turned and with a venomous hiss; And tongue of fire did brent him sore; And all around the blood and gore; Did sizzle, smoke and dully glow.

Sir Knight, as she was thus engaged; Was quick to spy the advantage; And at once with force anew; His sword her head it clove in two; And with that blow the monster slew.

He knelt beside the aged sire; And dressed his wounds as best he may; Do not grieve for me, the old man sighed; My life's lost, as prophesied; When you did the monster slay. Twas with your help the spell did break; That maiden's life did threat to take.

Then Christabel herself did wake; As one whom from a dream doth break; With face all pale and hair awry; She looked around with wildered eye; At the scene which met her gaze; And shook her head as if in daze; Then with silent tears gan cry.

Trouble thee not dear maid, said he; All thy troubles now over be. But what of my father Sir Leoline; And of the Lady Geraldine; And of my true love, so far away; For whom in the wild woods I did pray? But of them all he naught could say; Thus with sad heart doth end this lay.