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 thoughts fell on love, and she wondered—as maidens will—whom fortune would allot for her husband.
Now Britomart was no foolish maiden, dwelling ever on her future, and in it forgetting the duties of the present; but she was a rich and lovely princess, and it was only natural that she should expect to marry some day.