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Updated: May 8, 2025
Robin was reading with exemplary patience and considerable difficulty one of the old French poetry books belonging to the "Sieur Amadis de Jocelin," and Priscilla's small glittering needle flew in and out the open- work stitchery of a linen pillow-slip she was mending as deftly as any embroideress of Tudor times.
I doe nothing without blithnesse; and an over obstinate continuation and plodding contention doth dazle, dul, and wearie the same: my sight is thereby confounded and diminished. I must therefore withdraw it, and at fittes goe to it againe. As for Amadis and such like trash of writings, they had never the credit so much as to allure my youth to delight in them.
I can never pay back my debt to Briar Farm! that would be impossible! Why, the very fields and trees and flowers and birds have made me happy! happier than I shall ever be after I have said good-bye to them all! good-bye even to the Sieur Amadis!" Quick tears sprang to her eyes and the tapering light of the candle looked blurred and dim.
Then it was he wished for the sword of Amadis, against which no enchantment whatever had any power; then he cursed his ill fortune; then he magnified the loss the world would sustain by his absence while he remained there enchanted, for that he believed he was beyond all doubt; then he once more took to thinking of his beloved Dulcinea del Toboso; then he called to his worthy squire Sancho Panza, who, buried in sleep and stretched upon the pack-saddle of his ass, was oblivious, at that moment, of the mother that bore him; then he called upon the sages Lirgandeo and Alquife to come to his aid; then he invoked his good friend Urganda to succour him; and then, at last, morning found him in such a state of desperation and perplexity that he was bellowing like a bull, for he had no hope that day would bring any relief to his suffering, which he believed would last for ever, inasmuch as he was enchanted; and of this he was convinced by seeing that Rocinante never stirred, much or little, and he felt persuaded that he and his horse were to remain in this state, without eating or drinking or sleeping, until the malign influence of the stars was overpast, or until some other more sage enchanter should disenchant him.
Callous and easy-going man of the world as he had ever been and ever would be, the steadfast truth and tender devotion of the poor child moved him to a faint sense of shamed admiration. On the inky blackness of the night he saw her face, floating like a vision, her little uplifted, praying hands, he heard her voice, piteously sweet, crying "Amadis! Amadis!
Oh, could I be released from Amadis By exercise of such coy chastity As led thee gentle Quixote to dismiss! Then would my heavy sorrow turn to joy; None would I envy, all would envy me, And happiness be mine without alloy. GANDALIN, SQUIRE OF AMADIS OF GAUL, To Sancho Panza, squire of Don Quixote All hail, illustrious man!
"How you dwell on the memory of that French knight!" she said. "When are you going to have your portrait painted by the modern Amadis?" Innocent smiled. "Very soon!" she answered "We are to begin our sittings next week. I am to wear a white frock and I told him about my dove Cupid, and how it used to fly from the gables of the house to my hand and he is going to paint the bird as well as me!"
Her first care was for her manuscript, the long-treasured scribble, kept so secretly and so often considered with hope and fear, and wonder and doubting then she took one or two of the more cherished volumes which had formerly been the property of the "Sieur Amadis" and packed them with it.
"But what is to be done about the signature?" said Sancho. "The letters of Amadis were never signed," said Don Quixote. "That is all very well," said Sancho, "but the order must needs be signed, and if it is copied they will say the signature is false, and I shall be left without ass-colts."
She shed some tears over this letter then, moved by a sudden impulse, sat down and answered it at once, giving a full account of her meeting and acquaintance with another Amadis de Jocelyn "the real last descendant," she wrote, "of the real old family of the very Amadis of Briar Farm!"
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