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were no less the objects of admiration, than was the splendor of her birth and fortune. The breast of the king was replete with felicity.
The defence of the king’s power and dominions were intrusted to the care of a valiant count[1], named Eric. This warrior had past his life amidst the clash of swords and javelins, and had vanquished many a mighty Hero. His wife, a lady of illustrious birth, had brought him a son, named Grymer; a youth early distinguished in the profession of arms; who well knew how to die his sword in the blood of his enemies, to run over the craggy mountains, to wrestle, play at chess, trace the motions of the stars, and to throw far from him heavy weights; in short, he was possessed of every accomplishment that could perfect and compleat the Hero. By the time he was twelve years old, no one durst contend with him, either with the sword, the bow, or at wrestling. He frequently shewed his skill in the chamber of the damsels, before the king’s lovely daughter. Desirous of acquiring her regard, he displayed his dexterity in handling his weapons, and the knowlege he had attained in the sciences he had learned. At length he ventured to make this demand; “Wilt thou, O fair Princess, if I may obtain the king’s
- ↑ endnote a
