him warning of the danger; but the king commanded them instantly to put off to sea, and not be afraid; for he had never in his life heard of any king that was drowned. In a few days he drove the enemy from before the city, and took the count himself prisoner; who, raging at his defeat and captivity, exclaimed[1], "That this blow was from Fortune; but Valour could make reprisals, as he should show, if ever he regained his liberty." This being told the king, he sent for the count, let him understand that he had heard of his menaces; then gave him a fine horse, bid him begone immediately, and defied him to do his worst.
It would have been an injury to this prince's memory, to let pass an action, by which he acquired more honour than from, any other in his life, and by which it appeared that he was not without some seeds of magnanimity, had they been better cultivated, or not overrun by the number or prevalency of his vices.
I have met with nothing else in this king's reign that deserved to be remembered; for; as to an un-
- ↑ There is so much pleasantry and humour, as well as spirit and heroism in this story, as we have it recorded by William de Malmesbury, who represents the menace as thrown out in the king's presence, that I shall make no apology for setting down his words at length. "Author turbarum Helias capitur; cui ad se adducto rex ludibundus, 'Habeo te, magister, inquit.' At ille, cujus alta nobilitas nesciret etiam in tanto periculo sapere; 'Fortuitò inquit, me cepisti: si possum evadere, novi quid facerem.' Tunc Willielmus, præ furore ferè extra se profitus, & obtuens Heliam, 'Tu inquir, nebulo, tu quid faceres! Discede; abi; fuge. Concedo tibi ut facias quicquid poteris: et per vultum de Luca, "nihil si me viceris, nihil pro hac veniâ tecum paciscar." i.e. By the face of St. Luke, if thou shouldst have the fortune to conquer me, I scorn to compound with thee for my release.
