“I cannot. She resembleth none of these waiting ladies.”
My people murmured when they heard this. It was a hard statement I had made and one they could not understand. But I waved my hand regally and demanded silence.
“Here is a magical happening,” I cried. “There is no image in the well, but rather a real woman. Priest, bid her come forth and tell her station in life. Have her explain how comes she here.”
In seven different languages and five distinct dialects he called down the well, commanding the woman to come forth. She came, slowly, as though floating upward she came, stepping gracefully over the stone curbing. Then she made a deep curtsy and in a clear, beautiful voice, she spoke:
“I am Leonora,
Royal daughter
Of most royal parents.
I come from a land most noble.
Among men renowned.
That tract of earth is not
Over mid-earth.
Fellow to many peopled lands.
But is a celestial Paradise,
Beautiful is all that land
With delight blest.
I come from there to Cornwall,
To mate with him who reigns.
And shower love and riches
All over his domain.”
Then, stretching her hands toward me, she cried to the priest, “Marry us forthwith, so we may, united, bless this fair land of Cornwall and its beloved people. Why should I care about leaving Paradise, when I can spend an eternity Cornwall?”
She was regal. From the golden crown which held her glorious locks together down to the silver slippers on her little feet she was a rare mate for any Overlord. Something of this must have impressed my people. Perhaps they felt that it was a happy ending to what might have turned out to be a difficult situation. At least they cried their approval of the marriage.
Then, through the forest, came the sound of silvery horns and the neighing of horses and the dull roll of chariots. Who should it be but Queen Broda in her golden chariot with my friend, her husband, by her side. What magic procedure produced her arrival at this time? When I looked at the priest he winked. Good! With such a partner I would go far.
“Hail, Cecil, Overlord of Cornwall!” she cried. “Hail and thrice hail! I heard you were adventuring into the land of matrimony tonight, and, if the lady by your side is your bride, then your adventurings will be sweet indeed. But you have many damsels here who are unwed. It came to me to select fifty of my young nobles and offer them in marriage to your lovely maidens. With such marriages the friendship of Ireland and Cornwall will truly be made too strong to break.”
Then into the moonlight came fifty Irishmen in purple robes and golden armlets and with gold chains around their necks, and they all had yellow hair. The Cornwall maidens could hardly wait till proper introductions were made. Then, by the same magic that had ruled the entire evening, the couples instantly fell in love and understandings were soon reached so that, after an hour of merry-making, there were fifty-one couples to be married by the priest instead of one.
Naturally, everyone went away happy. I entertained as many as I could in my castle, but at last came the hour when I was alone with my bride. She had slipped off her regal robes and draped her lovely body with a silken gown that more than amply proved her statement that she came from Paradise. I determined to be stern with her. Now was the time to find out who was to rule.
“Why did you do it?” I asked.
“Why should I not? That night when Sir Mallory talked with you I hid behind the velvet curtain. What one woman can do, another can. You gave me the dresses and jewels and I made up my mind to use them. Of course you remember the poem? You read it to me several times and I memorized it, making only the necessary changes.”
“Yes,” I admitted, “the poem is De Phoenice. Of course it was all very ingenious and you looked more beautiful than ever as you rose from the well.”
“Of course I had to practice that. It was hard to climb the ladder gracefully, but I would do anything for you, Cecil dear. And it all ended perfectly. Just like one of those stories you used to read to me.”
She looked at me so sweetly, she clung to me so tenderly, she looked so adoringly into my eyes, that all my reserve melted. I crushed her to me,
“Oh, Ruth, Ruth! I am so glad it happened this way. No other woman would have had the courage to do it. I am so glad that you are my Queen. I do not believe I shall ever be able to stop kissing you.”
We heard a half-smothered laugh. Turning, we faced the priest. “I just dropped in to say good-bye and wish you all kinds of happiness,” he said. “You are going far in the world, Cecil, Overlord of Cornwall, with such a woman as wife. By the way, would you mind if I borrowed your copy of Elephantis? There is a Cardinal in Italy, a friend of mine, who has expressed the desire to see it.”
“That is all right,” I answered. “Just take it with you. Now that Ruth and I are married, I do not believe I shall care to spend as much time with Elephantis as I did.”
“You will find me much nicer,” cooed Ruth, as she clung to me.
9. Feminine Magic
This is the last of the five chapters from the Tales From Cornwall in which Cecil, self-styled Overlord, is the principal character. You will see him once more in the next chapter, but near the end of his days, where the tales have taken another tum. The present episode has not been published before.
For two months after my marriage to the beautiful Leonora we were very happy. Naturally much of the time was spent in entertaining the nobility of Cornwall, all of whom, especially their womenfolk, were more than curious to see their new queen in daylight. Her mysterious appearance had taken place in the soft moonlight and of course there were a hundred versions of exactly what had happened. But all my subjects agreed that her remarkable arrival from the Celestial Paradise which she hight her home was of the same magical nature which had savored all the adventures of their Overlord since first he arrived in Cornwall. As the land was at peace and prosperity reigned, they were content to leave matters as they were. My bride was very charming. Also she had a regal bearing and a haughty toss of the head which much astonished me, as I well knew her ancestry and former environment. As Ruth, daughter of humble parents, she had been rescued from the dragon and perhaps a worse fate at the hands of her aged lover; as Percy, the page, she had served me humbly and well, satisfied with an occasional word of kindness and a smile. Now this same girl did queen it over my castle and, in fact, over all Cornwall, as though she were to the manor born.
Having taken but scant part in her becoming my wife (the fact being that I had not even been consulted and had known nothing of what was to happen till she came from the Bride Well), I felt that with her it was a case of sink or swim and that she could make her way with good folk of Cornwall as best she might with meager help from me. To my surprise she did this very thing in an excellent manner. I was completely ignored and often left alone in the library while Queen Leonora entertained our guests, listening avidly to their flatteries. All day the castle buzzed with, “Oh, Queen Leonora, what dainty hands you have, enscorrelled with the most beautiful rings!” and “What a lovely complexion!” and, “How fortunate to possess that string of exquisite pearls!” or, “How remarkable that ivory pendant of Cupid and how bravely he carries his bow and arrow!”
For a while I contented myself bringing my history to date; but finally I could no longer endure the strain, so summoned the lady to the library. She gave me a deep curtsy and then lost herself in one of the leather chars, covered, as it happened, with the skin of a black bear, against which ebony her white gown and whiter skin shone like the sun against a darkening sky.