dim the light of heaven itself and force the warrior to retreat, lest he should be scorched alive. As he did so, his weary feet slipped, and he fell down, sore terrified with the dread of shame.

Now it chanced that close by where he fell, there grew a goodly tree, laden with apples. Great virtue had belonged to this tree, and even now there trickled forth from it a stream of balm that fell on the ground and watered it as if with dew. This little stream imparted life and long health to all whom it benefited, and into its soothing power the knight fell, on this, the close of the second day's fight.

Once more his life was saved, for the dragon, who was of death and darkness, dared not approach aught life-giving. And now the daylight began to fade, and Una, seeing her lord again fall and lie motionless, knowing not that he lay in the healing balm, was once more stricken with sore affright, and watched and prayed for him all through the weary darkness.

When morning again dawned Una saw her knight arise, healed and refreshed, ready for renewed combat. And the dragon, who had lain waiting for the day that he might destroy him, grew afraid when he beheld his foe as fresh as if he had not fought at all. Nevertheless, he advanced, full of his wonted pride and rage, with jaws wide open, thinking to devour his foe at the first encounter.

But the knight was prepared to meet him; thrusting his keen weapon between the monster's open jaws, he ran it through his mouth, and wounded him with a mortal wound. Then the dragon fell, and as he fell the earth groaned as if unable to support his weight. And the valiant knight himself trembled, so huge and hideous did the slain dragon look.

Una, who had seen all from her hill, dared not at first approach; but at length finding that the huge mass made no movement, she shook off her terror, and, drawing near, saw that the terrible monster was indeed dead. Then praising God, she thanked her brave champion for the great deliverance.

The sun had scarcely risen above the eastern horizon, when the watchman who stood on the battlements of the brazen tower, saw the last breath of the monster fade away, and knowing then that the dragon was dead, shouted out the glad tidings.

The king heard the shout, and rose in joyful haste, although for his feebleness he could not make much speed, and looked forth to see if the tidings were indeed true. When he found that they were, he commanded the brazen gate, long closed, to be thrown open, and peace and joy to be proclaimed throughout the land—for the dragon was slain! Then the trumpets sounded the happy victory, and the people, with one accord, assembled as in solemn festival, to rejoice over the fall of the great and terrible beast.

From the tower came forth the king and queen, clad in worn and sober garments. Grave nobles attended them, and a band of young men, bearing laurel boughs, followed in glad procession. Headed by the king these made their way to the Red-cross Knight, and, prostrating themselves before him, loudly proclaimed him their lord and patron, casting the laurels at his feet.

As they did so, there issued from the brazen gate maidens adorned with garlands, bearing sweet-sounding timbrels, and dancing as they went; while with them were children who sang to the maidens' music.

This second procession wended its way until it came where Una stood, and there they stayed and sang aloud her praises, and set a green garland on her head, crowning her "'twixt earnest and 'twixt game."

Last of all came the mob, hurrying to see the dragon-slayer, whom they looked upon as sent from heaven, and at whom they stared with gaping wonder. But when they arrived where lay the dead dragon they were filled with fear. Some, indeed, were so terrified that they fled away; others pretended to conceal their fear, while one who wished to be thought wiser than all the rest, suggested that the dragon might not be really dead. At this another immediately declared that he could see fire sparkle in his eye, while a third was persuaded he had seen the monster wink. Others, more bold, stood near its carcase, in order to measure how many acres it covered.

Thus the people flocked about the dead dragon, while the king and his train were entertaining the knight with gifts of ivory and gold. After thanking him a thousand times, and embracing their fair daughter Una, the king and queen conducted them to the palace, while the people strewed the way with their garments and shouted aloud for joy.

Now when the Red-cross Knight had rested and been feasted, the king and queen called upon him to relate the story of his adventures. Tears ran down their cheeks as they listened, and when he had ended, the king again welcomed him to the palace, and spoke of his resting there from all further toil.

But the knight declared that he might not rest yet, for he was bound by vow to Gloriana, Queen of Faeryland, to return and serve her for the space of six years. Then the king called for Una, his only daughter and sole heir, and with his own hands betrothed her to the knight.

Never in all her loveliness had Una looked so fair as when her father called her forth. The toil of the journey over, she had put aside her sober mournful robe, and was arrayed in a dress of pure and shining white, while the brightness of her beautiful countenance astonished even her own true lord. There was great joy among both old and young at the marriage, and a solemn feast was ordered throughout the land.

The Red-cross Knight held himself a thrice happy man, and ever as he looked on his dear lady rejoiced anew. In great peace and happiness he remained with Una until his conscience and his vow compelled him to return for a time to the court of Gloriana, leaving her in her dear parent's care.

After this he was no longer known as the Red-cross Knight, but as St. George, the slayer of the dragon—the great Saint George whom England has made her patron saint.

Britomart and the Magic Mirror.

Faerie Queene. Book III. Cantos II., III.

Once upon a time there lived in Cambria a king whose name was Ryence. Now Ryence was a good king, and dealt justly with his people, and on this account he won the approval of Merlin, the great magician. And Merlin gave King Ryence a boon.

This boon was a looking-glass, so wonderfully made, and possessed of such strange properties, that its fame spread throughout the wide world. The glass was round, shaped like a ball, and hollow inside. He who looked into it, saw not himself, but saw there portrayed anything that was happening in any part of the world that might be of consequence to him. If a foe were working him secret ill, or a friend feigning false kindness, this glass revealed their deeds. Such, then, was the boon which Merlin had given to King Ryence; and from it the king could learn the approach of an enemy more surely and more quickly than from the swiftest messenger.

Now the King of Cambria had one only child. This was Britomart, his daughter and his heir. She was a noble damsel, tall and stately, with rich golden hair, which, when loosened from its silken bands, fell like a sunny shower, reaching down to her feet. And she was brave as she was beautiful: gentle towards the weak, and ready to help those in trouble; one who scorned to take advantage of the misfortunes of others. A fit daughter of a great king, from whom her father kept no secrets.

It chanced that one day, as Britomart was wandering over the palace, she found herself in the small apartment where Ryence kept the mirror. Forgetful of its strange virtues, the princess looked into it, and was surprised that she did not see a reflection of herself. Then she remembered that Merlin's gift was no ordinary looking-glass, and as she recalled its properties, she began to wonder what she might look for there that was of importance to herself. Standing lingering by the mirror, her