OF SIR PARIDELL AND OTHERS
It was, in truth, a great deliverance that Britomart had worked for the
Lady Amoret. Nevertheless this same lady was somewhat in doubt how she
should bear herself to her deliverer. For, on the one hand, she was well
aware that all her love and homage was due to Sir Scudamore, nor was
there aught in her heart that hindered her from rendering it. It should
be told indeed that she was not only betrothed to this same Scudamore,
but verily wedded, only it had come to pass on the very wedding-day,
when the guests were somewhat overtaken with wine, that the enchanter
Busyrane had entered the palace, and, under cover of a jest, had carried
her away into captivity. So now she said to herself:
“This is a very noble knight, and it irks me to show him any
discourtesy; yet, on the other hand, I fear me much lest I should seem
in any wise disloyal to my own dear lord,” for she knew not that
Britomart was a maid. And Britomart, on her part, desiring that the
secret should not be known, bore herself with a certain freedom. Nothing
unseemly did she say or do; but none had guessed her to be what she was.
As they journeyed together they came to a castle, where a great company
of knights and ladies had assembled to hold a tournament. Now it was a
custom of tournament that every knight entering the lists bore the
colours of some lady, and averred that she was the fairest of all
ladies, and that he would prove it with spear and sword. Thus it came to
pass that when the knights were gathered together, and the master of the
ceremony asked of each his lady’s name, a certain young and lusty knight
cried out, “My lady is the fair Amoret, and that I will avow with spear
and sword.”
When Britomart heard these words she was not a little wroth;
nevertheless she dissembled her anger, and said only, “I am loath to
make strife; but this young man must needs make good his words!” So they
jousted together, and the knight was easily overthrown, being thus made
to suffer for coveting that which was not his. But Britomart, seeing
that he was a brave man, and being herself as courteous as she was
strong, cast about how she could save his honour. She said, therefore,
to the master of the ceremony: “Let me have this knight for my
champion.” And as she spoke she doffed her helmet, and her golden hair,
which had been cunningly coiled up within, fell down to her very feet.
All that stood by, both ladies and knights, were not a little amazed.
Some said, “This is wrought by magic!” others, “This is Bellona’s self
that has come among mortal men.” As for the young knight, he worshipped
her as though she were divine, and the fair Amoret, all her doubts being
removed, was knit to her in the closest bonds of affection and
tenderness.
The next morning they departed together from the castle, the one ever
cherishing in her heart the thought of Sir Artegall and the other of Sir
Scudamore. After a while they were aware of two knights riding towards
them, having each a lady at his side; ladies, indeed, they were not,
save in outward appearance, for one was the false Duessa, the other was
called Até, which name by interpretation is Strife, than whom there is
no more baleful creature under the sun, and she has her dwelling hard by
the gates of hell. Many ways are there by which a man may go into that
place, but none by which he may come forth. And the walls on every side
are hung with the rent robes and broken sceptres of kings, shivered
spears and shields torn in twain, spoils of Babylon and of Rome, relics
of great empires that have been and are no more. Até herself was hideous
to behold, if one could see her as she was in truth. But now she was
fair to look at, for she had put on, as can all evil things, the
semblance of beauty.
The knight who rode by her side was a certain Blandamour, gallant and
strong, and most expert in arms, but of a fickle and inconstant heart;
and he that was companion to the false Duessa was Sir Paridell. When Sir
Blandamour saw from afar Britomart and Amoret, he said to Sir Paridell:
“See you, my friend, that knight with a lady by his side? There is a
fair adventure for you!” But Sir Paridell, for now they were near enough
to discern the fashion of Britomart’s arms, perceived that this knight
bore the like scutcheon to one by whom he had of late been worsted in
battle; nor was he minded to tempt his fate again.
“I know that knight full well, Sir Blandamour,” he said; “he proved his
skill on me, and I count it folly when he who has escaped a danger
challenges it again.”
“Then I,” replied Sir Blandamour, “will try my fortune; take you,
meanwhile, this dame in charge.” And he laid his spear in rest and
charged. Britomart, on her part, made ready to receive him, and gave him
an uncouth welcome. Scarce had they met than he found himself lying
helpless on the ground. Meanwhile his conquering adversary rode on, not
deigning so much as to say a single word.
When his companions saw in what an evil plight he was, they hastened to
his help, and put him on his steed, for mount himself he could not, and
held him up as he rode. Ill-content he was that he had ventured so much
and won so little.
After that they had journeyed awhile, they saw two knights coming
towards them across the plain. When Sir Blandamour perceived them, he
grieved more than ever for his late mishap, for he saw that one of them
was his old enemy Sir Scudamore, knowing him to be such by the device
that he wore, to wit, the god of love with his wings spread out on this
side and on that. “Here,” he said to himself, “is evil fortune! Yonder
is my enemy, and I am so bruised with this late encounter that I cannot
do battle with him.” Then he said to Sir Paridell: “My friend, will you,
of your affection, do somewhat for me, even as I have done for you? My
hurts keep me back from battle, but I have just cause of enmity against
yonder knight. Will you, therefore, maintain this my cause against him?”
Sir Paridell answered: “Trouble not yourself. There is a proverb that
the left hand rubs the right. As you have fought for me, so will I for
you.” Forthwith he laid his spear in rest, and charged, swift as an
arrow from a bow. Nor was Sir Scudamore slow to make himself ready. So
they met in fierce encounter, and with so great a shock, that both were
driven from their saddles, and they lay stretched upon the ground. Sir
Scudamore was soon on his feet again, and said to the other: “Laggard,
why lie you so long?” But Sir Paridell lay tumbled in a heap, without
sense or speech, all unheeding of his adversary’s reproach. Then his
companion ran to him, and unlaced his helmet, and loosened his coat of
mail, and so brought him back to feeling; but not a word did he speak.
Then said Sir Blandamour:
“False knight, you have overcome by craft a better man than yourself. It
is well for you that I am not in such good case to-day that I can avenge
him.”
To this Sir Scudamore made no answer, though there was great anger in
his heart. Then the false Duessa, not seeing how her ends would be
served by a quarrel between these two, would have made peace between
them. But, on the other hand, Até made up a fresh contention, for she
turned Sir Scudamore against Amoret, slandering that true lady with
false tales of how she had given her love to a stranger knight, who,
indeed, was none other than Britomart. Nor was she content with this,
but she made a quarrel also between Paridell and Blandamour. And the
contention between these two grew so hot that they were ready to do
battle with each other. What had been the end thereof none can say, but
by good luck there came that way a certain squire who was well known to
both, and not a little beloved by them. No easy thing was it for him to
get hearing from the two, so full of fury were they. Yet, at the last,
he persuaded them to stay their hands. This done, he said: “Brave
knights, you ought to be at peace and not at variance. There are those
that seek your harm, and you would do well to ally yourselves against
them.” Thus he persuaded them to swear friendship again. So being
reconciled, they pursued their journey. After a while they saw two
knights and two ladies with them, and they sent on their squire to
inquire who these might be. And when the squire came back to his company
he said: “These are two famous knights, brave Cambell and stout
Triamond; and the ladies are Cambina, who is wife to Cambell, and
Canacé, who is wedded to Triamond. But would it please you, gentle sirs,
to hear their story, for I know it well, and it is worth the hearing?”
Sir Blandamour answered, “Speak on.” So the squire told this tale that
follows.