English Fairy Tales | Page 5

with a huge
head, bristled like any boar's, with hot, glaring eyes and a mouth equalling a tiger's. At
first sight of him St. George gave himself up for lost, not so much for fear, but for hunger
and faintness of body. Still, commending himself to the Most High, he also rushed to the
combat with such poor arms as he had, and with many a regret for the loss of his magic
sword Ascalon. So they fought till noon, when, just as the champion's strength was nigh
finished, the giant stumbled on the root of a tree, and St. George, taking his chance, ran
him through the mid-rib, so that he gasped and died.
After which St. George entered the tower; whereat the beautiful lady, freed from her
terrible lord, set before him all manner of delicacies and pure wine with which he
sufficed his hunger, rested his weary body, and refreshed his horse.
So, leaving the tower in the hands of the grateful lady, he went on his way, coming ere
long to the Enchanted Garden of the necromancer Ormadine, where, embedded in the
living rock, he saw a magic sword, the like of which for beauty he had never seen, the
belt being beset with jaspers and sapphire stones, while the pommel was a globe of the
purest silver chased in gold with these verses:
My magic will remain most firmly bound Till that a knight from the far north be found

To pull this sword from out its bed of stone. Lo! when he comes wise Ormadine must fall.
Farewell, my magic power, my spell, my all.
Seeing this St. George put his hand to the hilt, thinking to essay pulling it out by strength;
but lo! he drew it out with as much ease as though it had hung by a thread of untwisted
silk. And immediately every door in the enchanted garden flew open, and the magician
Ormadine appeared, his hair standing on end; and he, after kissing the hand of the
champion, led him to a cave where a young man wrapped in a sheet of gold lay sleeping,
lulled by the songs of four beautiful maidens.
"The Knight whom thou seest here!" said the necromancer in a hollow voice, "is none
other than thy brother-in-arms, the Christian Champion St. David of Wales. He also
attempted to draw my sword but failed. Him hast thou delivered from my enchantments
since they come to an end."
Now, as he spoke, came such a rattling of the skies, such a lumbering of the earth as
never was, and in the twinkling of an eye the Enchanted Garden and all in it vanished
from view, leaving the Champion of Wales, roused from his seven years' sleep, giving
thanks to St. George, who greeted his ancient comrade heartily.
After this St. George of Merrie England travelled far and travelled fast, with many
adventures by the way, to Egypt where he had left his beloved Princess Sâbia. But,
learning to his great grief and horror from the same hermit he had met on first landing,
that, despite her denials, her father, King Ptolemy, had consented to Almidor the black
King of Morocco carrying her off as one of his many wives, he turned his steps towards
Tripoli, the capital of Morocco; for he was determined at all costs to gain a sight of the
dear Princess from whom he had been so cruelly rent.
To this end he borrowed an old cloak of the hermit, and, disguised as a beggar, gained
admittance to the gate of the Women's Palace, where were gathered together on their
knees many others, poor, frail, infirm.
And when he asked them wherefore they knelt, they answered:
"Because good Queen Sâbia succours us that we may pray for the safety of St. George of
England, to whom she gave her heart."
Now when St. George heard this his own heart was like to break for very joy, and he
could scarce keep on his knees when, lovely as ever, but with her face pale and sad and
wan from long distress, the Princess Sâbia appeared clothed in deep mourning.
In silence she handed an alms to each beggar in turn; but when she came to St. George
she started and laid her hand on her heart. Then she said softly:
"Rise up, Sir Beggar! Thou art too like one who rescued me from death, for it to be meet
for thee to kneel before me!"
Then St. George rising, and bowing low, said quietly: "Peerless lady! Lo! I am that very

knight to whom thou did'st condescend to give this."
And with this he slipped the diamond ring she had given him on her finger. But she
looked not at it, but at him, with love