"Leir and his Daughters"- Joy Chant C500A.D.

[Basia]

Leir was the son of Bladud, and wore the crown of London after him. He used no Magic, but he was a mighty King, and in his time Britain grew very wealthy. His court was of marvelous splendour, and there noble people sat upon silver couches and brocade cushions. Daily Leir feasted three hundred men of his warband; the least of the men in the hall drank from a cup of gold, and delicate balls of gold swung glinting from every braid of hair on each woman. Each night between Samhain and Beltain Leir heard a different story told before him, and no bard told a story twice, and each bard was of the first degree of bards.
Leir had no brothers to divide the inheritance with him, so for sixty years he ruled alone over the island of the mighty: and by reason of his wealth and his pre-eminence among the men of Britain he grew very proud. He had no sons, but when his hair was grey three daughters were born to him. Goronil and Riganna were the names of the two ender, and he loved them well; but his love for Cordaella the youngest was so great that he cared nothing for all the sweetness in the world besice.
When he was eighty years old he determined to make the division of the Island between the three of them: but he was not willing that Cordaella should receive no more than her sisters. Therefore he resolved to put them to the test of declaring their love for him before the assembly of the noble people of Britain. This he did to please his pride, but also so that he should find a pretext for giving Cordaella most; he did no doubt that the love she bore him should make her more elquent than her sisters.
Accordingly he made for a great feast, and if the gatherings that had been held in that hall before were spelndid, three times as splendid was this gathering. Treasures of gold and brinze glittered in the firelight, nor was there any lack of fine raiment among the nobles and bards and craftsmen assembled about the hoary-headed, handsome King. In the middle of the feist Leir called on his daughters to delcare before the people how they loved him; "For," he said, "she who loves most, most does she deserve."
First Goronil rose, a dark-haired majestic woman, and she said, "To speak my love, that is not a hard thing, for my heart is so full it spills out at my lips. I count it honour to tell before this assembly hie by summer and winter, in waking or sleeping, my constant thought is of th love I bear my father."
Turning, she addressed him directly and earnstly. "The swallow who returns each summer to her nest is not more fathful than is my heart to you, my father. Sweeter than the light of the son or the air of the morning is the thought of you to me, and you are dearer to me than the life of my soul."



(I have decided to post a page of this a night, that was page 1)

 

[phrodeau]

Keep it coming, Basia. Shakespeare's "King Lear" is one of my favorites.

 

[Basia]

Page 2

"Now that is well-spoken, and well shall it be rewarded," said Leir approvingly; and he alloted Albany to Goronil, and called her t's Queen.
Then yellow-haired Riganna spoke: soft and tender was her voice, but more tender the look she bent on her father. "Though I delight in the sight of the noble people of Britain, more delight have I in looking on my father. Though fair are the green woods and the bright hillsides, and sweet it is to behold them, it is more sweet to behold my father. I would sooner be at his side than sharing the sport of the gaily dresses maidens. I would sooner hear him speek, than to listen to harps and the singing bards, though Belgabreb himself sang among them. Two sisters I have, and I live them well, but I love my father more. Though dear to me is the sweetheart who comes wooing, dearer than all the wooers of the world are you to me, my father."
"That is kindly said, and kindness shall it have," said Leir, and he gave Riganna Cornwall for her portion. Bit Lorgis and Cambria he kept for Cordaella; and his elder daughters took note of that.
Then Leir bade Cordaella speak, but she, seeing the folly and understanfing his pourpose, for shame would have avoided it. She sat upon her silver couch and said lightly, "If coronets are to be given for golden words, my father, you must bestow them upon the bards; for I have no such skill."
Yet Leir would not be satisfied but insisted that she speak. "For," he said, "eloquence is fitting those of noble blood."
Then the slim auborn-haired girl stood forth and spoke: "It is fitting to give honour to noble men. Also it is natural for parents and children to love each other. You are my father, and a most kind father have you been to me; and as is fitting, so I love you."
Now Leir's anger began to kindle. He said sternly, "By the Three Riers of Britain, and that is coldly spoken! I looked for bounty from my daughter, but it is the speach of a niggard I hear from her!"
Cordaella's pride was not less than his, and at this insult she grew angry and turned on him. "Am I your daughter, and do you ask me to preform the antice of a buffoon before you? Myheart is not so light that I can make this kitten's play with it. We do not hear fine speech here, but the bawling of market women; a disgrace would it be to me, to have such a skill! Falsehood in a King's house brings destruction upon it. This is unworthy of you, my father, and shame and not honour will it bring you! But if what I have spoken is not pleasing to you, then I will say this: by as much as you hace, so much are you dear to me, and I love you to the measure of your wealth. For Kings, you will learn, are worth what they have to bestow!"

 

[Basia]

Page 3

When he heard that a great rage possessed Leir. His face became swollen and dark, the locks of his hair rose away from his head, his eyes bulged out of their sockets and he trembled all over. He would have struck Cordaella, but the bards ran between them to prevent this dishonour.
Then the King cried out, 'My repoach upon your mother, you are no daughter of mine! The blood of Brutus is not in you, and that golden torc is shamed by the neck that wears it. Cast out the foul unnatural hag, and let no one make her way pleasant, but let curses and pelting be her farewell! No inheritance shall she have of me except the violent death thatI shall give her if I ever look upon her again. If any man would have her fr his wife, let him know this: her dowry is my curse, and the man who takes her to his hearth, him will I account my enemy!"
All int he room were still. In the silence only the King's harsh breathing could be heared. Father and daughter stood a long moment in challenge, eye to eye, pride to pride, anger to anger. The Cordaella moved. She said no word but tore the golden torc from about her neck and hurled it down. As it rang out, she swept from her father's hall, andshe took nothing but what the clothes she wore.
When she had been gone a while Leir's frenzy abated, and he wept. Now he cried out, "Alas for the sorrow that is comming upon me! No daughter was ever so dear to her father as that girl was to me, and for her sakeI would have wronged her sisters! May the hard-hearted wrench have the fate she deserves!"
Cordealla's foster parents had not been atthe feast, because of a bond that was upon all of their house, that on certian days in every year they should not leave it; anf the feast had been held on such a day. When Cordaella left her father's court she consitered that to do and determined to go to her foter-home though there was no way of going but walking, and she would be some days on the road. She lived on food left for her by kindly villagers while never catching a glimpse of any of them because of the curse on her.
But the news of the bitter wrong that had been done toher travelled faster than she, and her foster father, Maglocun, set out to seek her, and so did his sons. He found her quickly enough, seeing her from a long way off walking proud and weary. When they were come together he way that she was dusty, with the shoes worn from her feet and his anger with Leir grew even as he held her tenderly. He took her into his chariot, scolding gently, "Child, you are not shod for the road. Is it fitting for the daughter of the High King to go about this way?"
She answered, "I am not the daughter of the High King, but a woman without a home. Take me under your roof again, for if there is no place for me at your hearth there is none for me in Britian."
He shook his head. "My dear, a blessing is on the roof that shelters you. Where you were nurtured, there is your home."

 

[phrodeau]

Is there more to this? I feel like it's missing a lot of sex and gore.