Part IV
Quickly Sir Valentine revived
With Ursine’s timely care;
And now to search the castle walls
The venturous youths repair.
The blood and bones of murdered Knights
They found where’er they came;
At length within a lonely cell
They saw a mournful dame.
Her gentle eyes were dimmed with tears;
Her cheeks were pale with woe;
And long Sir Valentine besought
Her doleful tale to know.
“Alas! young Knight,” she weeping said,
“Condole my wretched fate;
A childless mother here you see;
A wife without a mate.
“These twenty winters here forlorn
I’ve drawn my hated breath;
Sole witness of a monster’s crimes,
And wishing aye for death.
“Know, I am sister of a King,
And in my early years
Was married to a mighty Prince,
The fairest of his peers.
“With him I sweetly lived in love
A twelvemonth and a day;
When, lo! a foul and treacherous priest
Y-wrought our loves’ decay.
“With treason, villainy, and wrong,
My goodness he repayed;
With jealous doubts he filled my Lord,
And me to woe betrayed;
“But, ’cause I then was ill, my Lord
At length my life he spared;
But bade me instant quit the realm,
One trusty Knight my guard.
“Forth on my journey I depart,
Oppressed with grief and woe,
And tow’rds my brother’s distant Court,
With breaking heart, I go.
“Long time thro’ sundry foreign lands
We slowly pace forlorn,
At length within a forest wild,
I had two babies born.
“The eldest fair and smooth, as snow
That tips the mountain hoar;
The younger’s little body rough
With hairs was covered o’er.
“But here afresh begin my woes:
While tender care I took
To shield my eldest from the cold,
And wrap him in my cloak,
“A prowling bear burst from the wood,
And seized my younger son;
Affection lent my weakness wings
And after them I run.
“But all forewearied, weak and spent,
I quickly swooned away;
And there beneath the greenwood shade
Long time I lifeless lay.
“At length the Knight brought me relief,
And raised me from the ground;
But neither of my pretty babes
Could ever more be found.
“And, while in search we wandered far,
We met that Giant grim,
Who ruthless slew my trusty Knight,
And bare me off with him.
“But charmed by Heaven, or else my griefs,
He offered me no wrong;
Save that within these lonely walls
I’ve been immured so long.”
“Now, surely,” said the youthful Knight,
“You are Lady Bellisance,
Wife to the Grecian Emperor;
Your brother’s King of France.
“For in your royal brother’s Court
Myself my breeding had;
Where oft the story of your woes
Hath made my bosom sad.
“If so, know your accuser’s dead,
And dying owned his crime;
And long your Lord hath sought you out
Thro’ every foreign clime.
“And when no tidings he could learn
Of his much-wronged wife,
He vowed thenceforth within his Court
To lead a hermit’s life.”
“Now Heaven is kind!” the Lady said;
And dropt a joyful tear;
“Shall I once more behold my Lord?
That Lord I love so dear?”
“But, Madam,” said Sir Valentine,
And knelt upon his knee;
“Know you the cloak that wrapt your babe,
If you the same should see?”
And pulling forth the cloth of gold
In which himself was found,
The Lady gave a sudden shriek,
And fainted on the ground.
But by his pious care revived,
His tale she heard anon;
And soon by other tokens found
He was indeed her son.
“But who’s this hairy youth?” she said;
“He much resembles thee;
The bear devoured my younger son,
Or sure that son were he.”
“Madam, this youth with bears was bred,
And reared within their den.
But recollect ye any mark
To know your son again?”
“Upon his little side,” quoth she,
“Was stamped a bloody rose.”
“Here, Lady, see the crimson mark
Upon his body grows!”
Then clasping both her new-found sons,
She bathed their cheeks with tears;
And soon towards her brother’s Court
Her joyful course she steers.
What pen can paint King Pepin’s joy,
His sister thus restored!
And soon a messenger was sent
To cheer her drooping Lord,
Who came in haste with all his peers,
To fetch her home to Greece;
Where many happy years they reigned
In perfect love and peace.
To them Sir Ursine did succeed,
And long the sceptre bare.
Sir Valentine he stayed in France,
And was his uncle’s heir.
Attributed in part to Bishop Percy
(Done into modern spelling)