PART I.

THE DEPARTURE.

I.

Wandered forth the young child Lez-Breiz From his mother’s side, Early on a summer morning, Through the forest wide. There the shade and sunlight glancing On the armor played Of a mounted knight, advancing Through the greenwood glade.

Under spreading oaks and beeches Rode the steel-clad knight, Till his warlike splendors nearer Flashed on Morvan’s sight. “‘Tis the great Archangel Michael,” Thought the child, and then Straight he crossed himself devoutly, Ere he gazed again.

Down upon his knees in wonder Fell the trembling boy; “O my lord! my lord S. Michael, Work me not annoy!” “Nay, boy, no more lord S. Michael Than a serf am I; But a dubbed and belted knight, sooth, That I’ll not deny.”

“Never saw I belted knight, nor Heard of, till this day.” “That am I: say, hast thou seen none Like me pass this way?” “Nay, first answer me, I pray thee: This, what may it be?” “‘Tis my lance, wherewith I wound all Whom it liketh me.

“But this weighty club far better Than my lance I prize; Whoso dares provoke my ange With one blow he dies.” “What this dish of steel, which thou, sir, On thine arm dost wield?” “Dish, child! ‘Tis nor steel nor dish: It is my silver shield!”

“Mock me not, sir knight, for silver Moneys more than one I have handled: this is larger Than an oven-stone. What may be the coat you wear, like Iron strong and hard?” “‘Tis my steel cuirass: from sword-strokes Safely this can guard.”

“Were the roes thus clad in harness, Hard to kill were they! Tell me, were you born, lord knight, just As you are to-day?” Thereupon the old knight, laughing, Shook his sides with glee. “Then what wizard clad you thus, if So it might not be?”

“He alone the right who claimeth.” “Who, then, has the right?” “Me my lord the Count of Quimper In my armor dight. Now, boy, answer in thy turn: hath One passed by this way Like to me?”—“‘Tis even so, as Thou, my lord, dost say.”

II.

The child ran home in eager haste; Leapt on his mother’s knee. ‘Ma Mammik, ah! you do not know” (He said, with boyish glee): “You cannot guess what I have seen, What I have seen to-day! My lord S. Michael in the church Is not so grand, so gay.

“A man so bright, so beautiful, I ne’er before have seen.” “Nay, son, more fair than angels are No man hath ever been.” “Pardon me, mother, but you err: These knights (men call them so) Are fairer. I would be as they, And after them will go.”

Then thrice the mother, at these words, Fell fainting to the ground: While Morvan to the stable went, Nor once his head turned round. A wretched beast he found therein, Then mounted, and away; Bidding farewell to none, he sped, He sped without delay.

After the noble knight went he, Urging his steed forlorn T’wards Quimper, from the manor old, The home where he was born.