Phantastes, A Faerie Romance

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.

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.

"After all, however," I said to myself, and my heart sank, "it was only

skill. Your giant was but a blunderer."

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 dead.

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.

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.