OF SIR CALIDORE AND THE LADY BRIANA
As Sir Artegall was returning from his latest enterprise, he met a
certain Sir Calidore, who was in high repute among the knights and dames
of Fairyland for his courtesy and honesty. These two had been friends in
old time, and now were right glad to meet.
“Hail, noble sir,” said Sir Calidore, “tell me, I pray you, how you have
prospered in your enterprise.”
And when the other had unfolded the whole matter in order, what
hindrances he had encountered, and what success he had achieved in the
end, “Happy man,” he said, “that have accomplished so great an
enterprise! You are at the end of your labours, but I am but beginning
mine, nor do I know where to begin; the way is all untried. I know not
what dangers await me, nor what provision I must make.”
“What, then, is this enterprise of yours?” said Sir Artegall.
“I pursue,” answered the other, “the Blatant Beast, a monster that,
having been nurtured in the regions below, has now come forth on the
earth to be the plague and bane of men. My task is to follow him, if
need be, all over the world, till I can destroy him.”
“Such a creature I myself saw,” said Sir Artegall, “after that I left
the Savage Island. It seemed to have full a thousand tongues, and with
all of these it bayed and barked at me; I heeded him not, and this
seemed to move him to still greater rage.”
“Doubtless,” answered Sir Calidore, “that is the monster which I
follow.”
“Go on and prosper,” said Sir Artegall; and so they parted in all
friendship and amity.
After Sir Calidore had travelled a mile or so, he came upon a squire, a
comely youth to behold, whom his enemies had bound to a tree. The same
loudly called on him for help, which he, without waiting to ask
questions, promptly rendered. When he had loosed his bonds he said:
“Tell me, unhappy man, how you came into this evil plight; who was it
that captured you and bound you in this fashion?”
“Sir Knight,” said the man, “be assured that it was by misfortune only,
not by fault committed, that I came into this condition. Not far from
this place there is a very strong castle, where they keep this evil
custom. No man may pass along the road—and the road so lies that none
may pass without leave obtained from them who hold the castle—without
payment of toll. And the toll is this—from every lady her hair, and from
every knight his beard.”
“As shameful a custom as ever came to my ears!” cried Sir Calidore, “and
one speedily to be overthrown! But tell me how it came about, and what
was its beginning?”
“In this castle,” the squire made reply, “there dwells a certain lady,
Briana by name; there is no one on earth more proud, and it vexes her
sorely that she loves a certain Sir Crudor, and that he will not deign
to return love for love, until she shall make for him a mantle lined
with the hair of ladies and the beards of knights. And she to gain this
end uses the castle, having for her minister in the matter a certain
Maleffort, who, indeed, does her will in the most cruel fashion. This
very day, as I journeyed by the road with the lady whom I love, this
Maleffort made an assault upon us. Me first he took prisoner, for I
could not withstand him, so strong was he. This done, he pursued the
damsel, binding me to this tree until he should come back. But whether
he has found her or not, I know not.”
While he was yet speaking, they heard a loud shriek from hard by, and
looking to the place saw the knave holding a lady by her garments and
about to shear the tresses from her head. When Sir Calidore saw this he
was greatly moved with wrath; the squire he left, and turned to pursue
the villain. “Hold!” he cried, “leave that evil doing, and turn to
answer me!”
The fellow, trusting in his strength, which, indeed, had never failed
him, answered him scornfully. “Who,” said he, “are you that defy me in
this fashion? You take this maiden’s part; will you then give your
beard, though it be but little, for her locks? Nay, nay, you may not
purchase them so cheaply.” So saying he ran at Sir Calidore in a mighty
rage, and rained upon him a great shower of blows. The knight, who was
well skilled in arms, held back awhile, standing on his defence, and let
him spend his strength. But when he perceived that he was failing
somewhat, then he began to press him; the more he gave way the more
strongly he assailed him. At last the fellow lost heart, and turned to
fly, hoping to gain the castle and find shelter. So he fled, Sir
Calidore pursuing; and now he had reached the gate and cried aloud that
they should open to him without delay. This indeed they who were within,
seeing in what extremity he was, made haste to do, but even as he stood
in the porch Sir Calidore dealt him a mighty blow with his sword, and
cleft his head from the crown to the chin. He fell down dead where he
stood, and when they would have shut the gate, they could not, for the
carcase blocked the way, and Sir Calidore entering in, slew the porter
where he stood. Then all who were in the castle set at him, but in vain;
he swept them aside full easily, as an ox, standing in a meadow on a
summer day, sweeps away the flies which trouble him. So he passed from
the porch into the hall, where the Lady Briana met him, and assailed him
with angry words, calling him villain because he had slain her steward,
and was now come to rob her of her possessions.
“Nay, nay, fair lady,” he made answer, “I deserve not these reproaches.
I came to abate an evil custom that you wot of. Such things do dishonour
to the laws of courtesy. I pray you, therefore, of your own accord, to
do away with this evil. Rather show kindness and hospitality to all such
as pass by this way; so shall you gain a glory that is better far than
earthly love.”
These words did but make her wrath more strong. “Know, sir,” she cried,
“that I disdain all this talk of kindness and courtesy, and defy you to
the death.”
“I hold it no shame,” answered Sir Calidore, “to take defiance from a
lady; but were there one here who would abide the trial with his sword,
gladly would I prove my words upon him.”
Then the lady in great haste called to her a dwarf who served her, and
taking from her hand a ring of gold, gave it to him, saying: “Take this
with all speed to Sir Crudor; and tell him that there is a knight here
who has slain my steward and done much damage to my people;” for it had
been agreed between them, that when urgent need should arise she should
send this ring. So the dwarf departed with the ring, and travelled all
that night. Meanwhile Sir Calidore abode in the castle, the lady being
now scornful, now angry, and he enduring her moods with all patience and
courtesy.
The next day, before the sun rose, came the dwarf, bringing a message
from Sir Crudor that he would come to her help before he had broken his
fast, and would deliver to her the enemy alive or dead; and he sent his
helmet as a true token. Greatly did the Lady Briana rejoice to have such
news, and behaved herself more scornfully than ever to Sir Calidore. He
took no heed of her ways, rather rejoicing that he should have someone
with whom to settle this quarrel. So he donned his arms, and waited for
the coming of Sir Crudor. Nor did he wait long. Right soon did he espy a
knight riding across the plain. “This,” said he to himself, “is the Lady
Briana’s champion,” and without staying to ask of anyone who this
new-comer might be, he rode forth to meet him. The two came together in
the middle of the plain with so strong a shock that both were rolled
upon the ground, each rider with his horse. Sir Calidore rose lightly
from the ground, while his adversary still lay without sense or speech,
but he disdained to do him any damage; it would ill become a courteous
knight to strike a sleeping foe. But Briana, where she stood upon the
castle walls, thought that her champion was dead, and loudly bemoaned
him, and made as if she would throw herself from the walls to the earth.
After a while Sir Crudor raised himself from the ground, but in listless
fashion, like to one who can scarcely rouse himself from sleep. But when
he saw his adversary, his spirit returned to him as before, and he
renewed the fight, hoping that he would fare better on foot than he had
fared on horseback. Long did they fight, dealing each to other fearful
blows. Not once, so fierce were they, did they pause to take rest. At
the last, when, as if by common consent, both lifted their swords high
in the air to deal what might be a final blow, and so finish the fight,
either for this champion or for that, Sir Calidore, being more nimble
and quicker of sight than his adversary, was beforehand with him, and
struck him with so sharp a blow upon his helmet that he brought him to
his knee. Nor did he fail to follow up his advantage, but redoubling the
fierceness of his strokes, brought him altogether to the ground. As he
lay there he would have unlaced his helmet, and given him his
death-blow, but the vanquished man begged for mercy. Then Sir Calidore,
mastering his anger, such was his courtesy, said: “Mercy I grant with
all goodwill. Do you learn not to treat strangers with such rudeness.
This ill befits a knight, for his first duty is to conquer himself. And
now I give you your life on these conditions, that you help to the best
of your power all wandering knights, and also give aid as you can to all
ladies in need.”
These things the knight, being thus delivered beyond all hope from the
fear of death, promised to do, and swore fealty to Sir Calidore as being
his liege lord for all his life. All this time the Lady Briana was
looking in great dismay and trouble of mind; and now Sir Calidore,
bidding her to approach, told all that had been agreed between him and
Sir Crudor. She was overcome by so great a courtesy, and thanked him
with all her heart, for indeed it was in her inmost heart that she was
moved. She threw herself at his feet, and declared herself to be wholly
bound to him. After this they all betook themselves to the castle, where
the lady entertained them in most joyous fashion.
The banquet ended, she said: “Sir Calidore, I do bestow this castle upon
you freely and without price, by way of token of how great is my debt to
you.”
Then answered Sir Calidore: “Lady, I thank you for this gift; but I am
not minded to take any hire or reward for any good deed that it may be
given me to do.” So he gave the castle to the squire, that he and the
damsel might dwell there. And when he had tarried there certain days,
and was now made whole of his wounds, he went forth again on his quest.