“Arayde wyth ryche gold wyre.”
But the labours of those days were not confined to merely good-appearing garments: the skill of the needlewoman—for doubtless it was solely attributable to that—could imbue them with a value far beyond that of mere outward garnish.
“She seyde, Syr Knight, gentyl and hende,[50]
I wot thy stat, ord, and ende,
Be naught aschamed of me;
If thou wylt truly to me take,
And alle wemen for me forsake
Ryche i wyll make the.
I wyll the geve an alner,[51]
Imad of sylk and of gold cler,
Wyth fayr ymages thre;
As oft thou puttest the hond therinne
A mark of gold thou schalt wynne,
In wat place that thou be.”[52]
But infinitely more marvellous is the following:—“King Lisuarte was so content with the tidings of Amadis and Galaor, which the dwarf had brought him, that he determined to hold the most honourable court that ever had been held in Great Britain. Presently three knights came through the gate, two of them armed at all points, the third unarmed, of good stature and well proportioned, his hair grey, but of a green and comely old age. He held in his hand a coffer; and, having inquired which was the king, dismounted from his palfrey and kneeled before him, saying, ‘God preserve you, Sir! for you have made the noblest promise that ever king did, if you hold it.’ ‘What promise was that?’ quoth Lisuarte. ‘To maintain chivalry in its highest honour and degree: few princes now-a-days labour to that end; therefore are you to be commended above all other.’ ‘Certes, knight, that promise shall hold while I live.’ ‘God grant you life to complete it!’ quoth the old man: ‘and because you have summoned a great court to London, I have brought something here which becomes such a person, for such an occasion.’ Then he opened the coffer and took out a Crown of Gold, so curiously wrought and set with pearls and gems, that all were amazed at its beauty; and it well appeared that it was only fit for the brow of some mighty lord. ‘Is it not a work which the most cunning artists would wonder at?’ said the old knight. Lisuarte answered, ‘In truth it is.’ ‘Yet,’ said the knight, ‘it hath a virtue more to be esteemed than its rare work and richness: whatever king hath it on his head shall always increase his honour; this it did for him for whom it was made till the day of his death: since then no king hath worn it. I will give it you, sir, for one boon.’——‘You also, Lady,’ said the knight, ‘should purchase a rich mantle that I bring:’ and he took from the coffer the richest and most beautiful mantle that ever was seen; for besides the pearls and precious stones with which it was beautified, there were figured on it all the birds and beasts in nature; so that it looked like a miracle. ‘On my faith,’ exclaimed the Queen, ‘this cloth can only have been made by that Lord who can do everything.’ ‘It is the work of man,’ said the old knight; ‘but rarely will one be found to make its fellow: it should belong to wife rather than maiden, for she that weareth it shall never have dispute with her husband.’ Britna answered, ‘If that be true, it is above all price; I will give you for it whatsoever you ask.’ And Lisuarte bade him demand what he would for the mantle and crown.”[53]
But the robe which occupied the busy fingers of the Saracen king’s daughter for seven long years, and of which the jewelled ornaments inwrought in it—as was then very usual—were sought far and wide, has often been referred to (albeit wanting in fairy gifts) as a crowning proof of female industry and talent. We give the full description from the Romance of ‘Emare,’ in Ritson’s collection:—
“Sone aftur yu a whyle,
The ryche Kynge of Cesyle
To the Emperour gaun wende,
A ryche present wyth hym he browght,
A cloth that was wordylye wroght,
He wellcomed hym at the hende.[54]
“Syr Tergaunte, that nobyll knyghte hyghte,
He presented the Emperour ryght,
And sette hym on hys kne,
Wyth that cloth rychyly dyght.
Full of stones ther hit was pyght,
At thykke as hit myght be,
Off topaze and rubyes,
And other stones of myche prys,
That semely wer to se,
Of crapowtes and nakette,
As thykke ar they sette
For sothe as y say the.
“The cloth was displayed sone,
The Emperoer lokede therupone,
And myght hyt not se,
For glysteryng of the ryche ston
Redy syght had he non,
And sayde, How may thys be?
The Emperour sayde on hygh,
Sertes thys ys a fayry,
Or ellys a vanyte.
The Kyng of Cysyle answered than,
So ryche a jewell ys ther non
In all Crystyante.
“The amerayle[55] dowghter of hethennes
Made this cloth withouten lees,
And wrowghte hit all with pride,
And purtreyed hyt with gret honour,
Wyth ryche golde and asowr,[56]
And stones on ylke a side;
And, as the story telles in honde,
The stones that yn this cloth stonde
Sowghte they wer full wyde.
Seven wynter hit was yn makynge,
Or hit was browght to endynge,
In herte ys not to hyde.
“In that on korner made was
Idoyne and Amadas,
With love that was so trewe,
For they loveden hem wit honour,
Portrayed they wer with trewe-love flour,
Of stones bryght of hewe,
Wyth carbankull and safere,
Kasydonys and onyx so clere,
Sette in golde newe,
Deamondes and rubyes,
And other stones of mychyll pryse,
And menstrellys with her gle.