OF WHAT BEFELL AT THE HOUSE OF PRIDE
The Red-Cross Knight rode on with the false Fidessa, not knowing that
she was indeed the witch Duessa, who had changed the unhappy Fradubio
into a tree. After a while they came to a road which was manifestly much
frequented of men, and following this beheld before them a very stately
palace. “Come,” said Duessa, “let us seek shelter here, for I am weary
with my journeying and the day is far spent.”
It was, indeed, a very noble house, cunningly built of bricks laid
artfully together without mortar. It had very lofty walls, but they were
as slight as they were high, overlaid with shining gold, with many
towers rising from them, and goodly galleries disposed among them, and
spacious windows. No one could blame the skill of the architect that had
planned it, or of the builders that had raised it up, so fair it was to
look upon; yet it was passing strange that it had been built in a place
so ill chosen, to wit, upon a sandy hill, so that the foundations were
ever slipping away from it; and when the winds blew upon it it was
shaken most perilously, and the lower parts, for all that they were
painted so as to make a very brave show, were ruinous and old.
They passed by the porter, whose name was Malvenu, which being
interpreted is “Ill come,” without challenge, and so came into the hall.
This was right richly arrayed with arras and cloth-of-gold, and was
filled from end to end with a great crowd of people of all sorts and
degrees, waiting, all of them, for a sight of the lady of the house.
These also they passed, as being guests to whom special honour was due,
and so were brought into the presence of the lady, where she sat with as
fair and richly-clad a company of knights and dames about her as ever
was seen upon the earth. High on a throne, splendid in royal robes and
ornaments of gold and jewels costly beyond all count, sat the lady. Fair
she was, so fair that throne and robes and gold and gems were as nothing
in comparison with her beauty. Under her feet was a great dragon, and in
her hand she held a shining mirror of brass, and her name was Lucifera.
She was, indeed, the Queen of Pride, and all her brave show was a false
seeming, and her kingdom a kingdom of unrighteousness.
The Knight, not knowing what the lady truly was, and false Duessa, to
whom all these things were well pleasing, being introduced by a certain
usher of the court, Vanity by name, bowed themselves low before the
throne. And the Knight said, “Lady, we are come to see your royal state,
and to prove the report of your great majesty which has gone through all
the world.” “I thank you,” said the lady, but in a disdainful way, for
she did not so much as cast her eyes upon them, nor did she bid them
rise. On the other hand, the knights and ladies set themselves with much
heartiness to entertain the new-comers. The knights were right glad to
welcome among them a companion so fair and so stalwart, and to the dames
the false Duessa was well known. Nevertheless the Knight was but ill
pleased that the Lady Lucifera should show such scant courtesy to a
stranger. “She is overproud,” he thought to himself, “and there is too
much of vain show in these her surroundings.”
While he was thus thinking, the lady rose suddenly from her place, and
said that she would ride abroad, and bade call for her coach. A stately
coach it was, like to that which, as it was said of old, Queen Juno rode
with six peacocks, spreading out great starry tails, for horses. Six
steeds had this Queen also, but they were but ill matched, and on each
of them did ride one of the six counsellors who advised her in affairs
of state, and the six were Idleness, and Gluttony, and Lust, and
Avarice, and Envy, and Anger. The false Duessa followed close after the
Lady Lucifera, for she was of a kindred spirit, but the Knight, though
he knew not all the truth, yet held aloof from the rout, not liking
their company. When they had tarried awhile in the fields, breathing the
fresh air of the country-side, they turned back to the palace. There
they found a Saracen knight newly come, who carried on his shield the
name _Sansjoy_. He was ill-favoured and ill-conditioned, as one who bore
a grudge against his fellows. But when he saw how the page of the
Red-Cross Knight carried a shield on which was written the name of
_Sansfoy_, then was he filled with fury, and sprang upon the lad and
wrenched it from him, which the Red-Cross Knight perceiving, being ill
content so to lose the trophy which he had won in fair fight, ran at the
Saracen, and recovered that which was his own. Already had they drawn
their swords to fight out their quarrel hand to hand, when the Queen
Lucifera interposed her high command: “Sirs,” she said, “I command you
on pain of my high displeasure to forbear. To-morrow, if you will, you
shall prove in fair fight to whom this shield, for which I perceive you
contend, in right belongs. Meanwhile I bid you be at peace.”
“I beg your pardon, noble Queen,” said the Saracen, “for that I have
thus broken the peace of your court; in truth I could not refrain myself
when I saw this false knight possessing the shield of the brave
_Sansfoy_, whom he slew not in fair fight, but by magic arts, ay, and
not possessing it only, but that he might do it dishonour, commanding
that it should be publicly borne.” So spake Sansjoy, but the Red-Cross
Knight said nothing; he was a man of deeds, not of words. Only he threw
his gauntlet on the ground, to be a pledge that he would meet his
adversary in the field.
Then, for evening was now come, all sat down to the banquet. Right
royally did they feast, for Gluttony was steward that night, and ordered
their meat and drink; and when they had feasted to the full, they betook
themselves to their beds, and Sloth was their chamberlain. But before
she slept Duessa made Sansjoy aware that she was no friend to the
Red-Cross Knight.