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ss and her host of mercenary Normans were forced to flee, and that her place was taken by a more just and righteous ruler. _The Marquis of Guerande_ Breton tradition speaks of a wild young nobleman, Louis-Francois de Guerande, Seigneur of Locmaria, who flourished in the early part of the seventeenth century. He was wealthy, and lived a life of reckless abandon; indeed, he was the terror of the parish and the despair of his pious mother, who, whenever he sallied forth upon adventure bent, rang the bell of the chateau, to give the alarm to the surrounding peasantry. The ballad which tells of the infamous deeds of this titled ruffian, and which was composed by one Tugdual Salauen, a peasant of Plouber,[46] opens upon a scene of touching domestic happiness. The Clerk of Garlon was on a visit to the family of his betrothed. "Tell me, good mother," he asked, "where is Annaik? I am anxious that she should come with me to dance on the green." "She is upstairs asleep, my son. Take care," added the old woman roguishly, "that you do not waken her." The Clerk of Garlon ran lightly up the staircase and knocked at Annaik's door. "Come, Annaik," he cried; "why are you asleep when all the others go to dance upon the village green?" "I do not wish to go to the dance, for I fear the Marquis of Guerande," replied the girl. The Clerk of Garlon laughed. "The Marquis of Guerande cannot harm you so long as I am with you," he said lightly. "Come, Annaik; were there a hundred such as he I should protect you from them." Reassured by her lover's brave words, the girl rose and put on her dress of white delaine. They were a joyous and beautiful pair. The Clerk was gaily dressed, with a peacock's feather in his hat and a chain on his breast, while his betrothed wore a velvet corsage embroidered with silver. On that evening the Marquis of Guerande leaped on his great red steed and sallied forth from his chateau. Galloping along the road, he overtook the Clerk of Garlon and his betrothed on their way to the dance. "Ha!" he cried, "you go to the dance, I see. It is customary to wrestle there, is it not?" "It is, Seigneur," replied the Clerk, doffing his hat. "Then throw off your doublet and let us try a fall or two," said Guerande, with a wicked look at Annaik which was not lost upon her lover. "Saving your grace, I may not wrestle with you," said the Clerk, "for you are a gentleman and I am nobody. You are the son o
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