OF THE GIANT ORGOGLIO
When the false Duessa came back to the Palace of Pride from the journey
which she had made in the matter of Sansjoy, she found that the
Red-Cross Knight had departed. Thereupon she set out without delay,
being altogether unwilling that he should escape out of reach of her
nets. Nor, indeed, was it long before she found him, sitting by the side
of a spring in the shade of a tree. He had put off his armour by reason
of his weariness and of the heat of the day. “You did ill to leave me in
that ill place Sir Knight,” she said, “for ill I found it to be, even as
you did yourself.” Then he excused himself with courteous words, and so
peace was made again between the two.
Now the spring by which the Knight was taking his rest was not as other
springs, but there lay a curse upon it, because the nymph which dwelt
therein had fallen out of favour with her mistress, Diana. And the cause
of her so falling was this. On a certain day, as Diana and her train
were following the chase, the nymph of this spring, being wearied with
the heat and toil of the day, sat herself down to rest. With this her
mistress, being very keen in her hunting, was ill pleased: “Maid,” she
cried, “you are dull and slow; such, then, shall these waters be for
ever, ay, and whosoever shall drink of them.” Of this the Knight knew
nothing, but because the waters were crystal clear and cold, and his
thirst was great, he drank a great draught. And as he drank, the powers
of body and soul grew faint and feeble, but by slow degrees and
unperceived. Ere long there came to his ears a loud bellowing sound
which made the trees to tremble and the very earth to shake. The Knight
leapt from the ground, and would have armed himself, but yet, such was
the working of that magic spring, was strangely slow. Certain it is that
ere he could don his armour or thrust his arm into the fitting of his
shield, there came stalking along with mighty stride the most fearsome
giant that ever was seen on the face of the earth. His stature was
thrice that of man, and in his right hand he carried an oak tree which
he had torn from the earth by its roots. It served him for a staff
whereon to stay his steps, and for a mace with which to slay his foes.
So soon as he spied the Knight he came against him with the oak tree
lifted in his hand. On the other hand, the Knight made a vain show of
battle, but the strength had departed from his arm, and the heart in him
failed for fear. He lifted his sword, indeed, but he had no power to
strike. Then the giant aimed at him a mighty blow, such as would have
levelled to the ground a tower of stone. Verily, but for the grace and
help of God, it had ground him to powder, but he leapt from under it,
yet its very wind laid him prostrate on the ground. When the giant saw
him lie helpless in this fashion, he lifted his hand again as if to slay
him, but the false Duessa, who, for her own ends, would not have the
Knight perish in this fashion, cried aloud: “O Orgoglio, greatest of all
creatures under the sun, slay him not, but make him your thrall and
slave.” The giant listened to this prayer. He took the Knight in his
arms and carried him to his castle, and there threw him into a dungeon
that had been dug deep into the earth. There he lay for a while, with
such scant provision of meat and drink as sufficed to keep the life in
him.
The faithful Dwarf had seen his master fall, for he had the Knight’s
war-horse in charge, while the beast was grazing in the meadow hard by.
And now, the giant having departed with his prisoner, he gathered
together the arms and the armour, for these Orgoglio had left lying on
the ground as taking no account of such things. There was the helmet and
the cuirass, and the greaves and the shield with the cross upon it, and
the spear—things sad to behold, now that there was none to wear or wield
them. He laid them on the back of the war-horse, and so departed. He had
not gone far before he met the Lady Una herself. When she saw him and
the war-horse and the burden which it bore, there was no spirit left in
her, so that she fell without sense to the ground. Willingly would the
faithful Dwarf have died, knowing what ill tidings he bore, and seeing
how ill they were taken. Nevertheless he did not lose heart, but with
much pain and care sought to recover the lady from her swoon. Thrice did
he bring her back to life, and thrice she fell as one dead to the
ground. At last, when the spirit within her had somewhat recovered
itself, she said with faltering tongue: “Tell me now, faithful friend,
the whole story from the beginning, how it is that I see these relics of
the bravest knight that ever was. Verily Fortune has spent all her spite
upon him and me. Worse than that which I feel in my heart I cannot hear.
Begin your tale and carry it to the very end. If haply it shall be in
aught less dreadful than what I fear, so much I shall have gained.”
Then the Dwarf rehearsed from the beginning all that had befallen the
Red-Cross Knight from the time of their parting, the deceits of
Archimage and the wiles of the false Duessa, and the fate of the two
lovers who had been changed to trees, and the Palace of Pride, and the
combat with Sansjoy, and how the Knight had been taken unprepared by the
giant Orgoglio.
To these things the lady listened with attentive ear, and when the Dwarf
had ended his tale she said: “Verily I will seek him as long as I live.
Lead on, and show me the way that I must go.” So they travelled both
together.
They had not journeyed far before they met a knight riding on the way
with his squire behind him. Never was there more gallant warrior or more
gallantly arrayed. His armour shone like the sun, and across his breast
he wore a baldrick richly adorned with precious stones. Costly were they
all, but one among them shone most excellently, a great diamond like to
the head of a fair lady, brighter than all the rest, even as the star of
evening is brighter than all the hosts of heaven. His sword hung from
his side in a sheath cunningly made of ivory; its hilt was of burnished
gold, and its buckle also of gold. The crest of his helmet was a great
dragon, with wings spread out on either side, and above the crest a
horse-hair plume, which waved to and fro as an almond tree waves its
blossoms in the breath of spring. But the great marvel of his equipment
was his shield. It was not made of iron or of brass, as are the shields
of common men, but of one great diamond. Only it was covered up from
sight. When he would dismay some huge monster, or strike with fear some
great array of the enemy, then he would show its brightness. No power of
man, no enchantments, strong and subtle as they might be, could prevail
against it, or diminish aught of its power, for indeed it was made by
the greatest magician that ever lived upon the earth, even Merlin.
The gallant knight spake full courteously to the Lady Una, asking if he
could help her or serve her in aught. “Oh, Sir,” she answered, “my
sorrow is so great that it is past all remedy. What would it profit to
tell the tale? ’Tis best to hide it in my heart nor stir the hidden
grief.”
“Nay, lady,” answered the knight, “I doubt not that your grief is great,
but I would counsel you to tell the tale for all it is so sad. Pain is
ever lessened, be it ever so great, by wise counsel, and he who will not
reveal his trouble may never find help.”
So they spake together, he persuading her to reveal her sorrow and she
unwilling to bring it to the light, till at last, yielding to his words
of wisdom, she told her tale.
“I am the daughter,” she said, “the only child of a king and queen whose
kingdom lies far by the river Euphrates. Long did they reign in great
prosperity, till a great dragon, bred in the lakes of Tartary, wasted
their land till there was nothing left of all that belonged to them,
save the one castle in which they dwelt, and to this the dragon has laid
siege now for the space of four years. Many knights have taken in hand
this enterprise, to subdue the dragon and to deliver those whom he
oppresses. From every country under heaven have they come, brave men and
famous for great deeds, but they have failed, one and all. For want of
faith or for the hidden weakness of some secret sin they have fallen
before him. At last there came to our land a report of certain famous
knights that had been bred in this realm of Fairy Land. Thereupon I
betook myself thither, even to the Court of Queen Gloriana, who dwells
in the City of Renown, hoping that I might there find some faithful
knight who should deliver my father and mother from the power of the
tyrant. Nor did I go in vain. It was my good fortune to find a gallant
knight who was fit and willing to undertake this task. Unproved indeed
he was, but he was of a fair body and a noble soul. It was he who set
forth upon this enterprise. Of his prowess I saw full many a proof. Yea,
the sword and the spear which you see on the back of yonder steed might
tell, if they could speak, of the great deeds which he has wrought. But
by ill chance he encountered a most false magician, by whose arts he was
betrayed. First this vile creature made division between my knight and
me, so that he misdoubted of my faith. Next he delivered him to the
wiles of a certain false woman, Duessa by name. And she has betrayed him
into the hands of a great and terrible giant, Orgoglio by name. And in
this giant’s dungeon he now lies pining to death. This is my grief, Sir
Knight, and greater, surely, never woman bore.”
“Your grief is indeed great,” answered the stranger knight; “but be of
good cheer. I will never leave you till I have set your champion free.
Come now, let us bring this matter to an end.”
So they rode on together with the Dwarf for their guide. The name of the
gallant knight who bore the shield of diamond was Arthur.