The last day of the tournament came, when all the knights again
assembled to show their feats of arms. Many brave deeds were done that
day, but Satyrane above all the other warriors displayed his wondrous
might; from first to last he remained fighting, and though sometimes for
a little while fortune failed him, yet he always managed to retrieve his
honour, and with unwearied power he kept the prize secure for his own
party.
The field was strewn with shivered spears, and broken swords, and
scattered shields, showing how severe the fight had been; there might be
seen also loose steeds running at random, whose luckless riders had been
overthrown, and squires hastening to help their wounded masters. But
still the Knights of Maidenhood came off the best, till there entered on
the other side a stranger knight.
Whence he came no man could tell. He was in a quaint disguise, hard to
be discovered, for all his armour was like a savage dress, decked with
woody moss, and his steed had trappings of oak-leaves, that seemed fit
for some savage mortal. Charging the enemy, this stranger smote down
knight after knight, till every one began to shun the dreadful sight of
him. They all wondered greatly who he was and whence he came, and began
to ask each other his name; but when they could not learn it anyhow, it
seemed most suitable to his wild disguise to term him the _Savage
Knight_.
But, truly, his right name was otherwise. Though known to few, he was
called Sir Artegall, the champion of _Justice_, the doughtiest and the
mightiest Knight then living.
Sir Satyrane and all his band were so dismayed by his strength and
valour that none of them dared remain in the field, but were beaten and
chased about all day till the evening. Then, as the sun set, out of the
thickest rout rushed forth another strange knight, who put the glory of
the “Savage Knight” to shame—so can nothing be accounted happy till the
end.
This strange Knight charged his mighty spear at Artegall in the midst of
his pride, and smote him so sorely on the visor that he fell back off
his horse, and had small desire to rise again. Cambell, seeing this, ran
at the stranger with all his might and main, but was soon likewise to be
seen lying on the field. Triamond thereupon was inwardly full of wrath,
and determined to avenge the shame done to his friend; but by his friend
he soon found himself lying, in no less need of help. Blandamour had
seen everything from beginning to end, and when he beheld this he was
sorely displeased, and thought he would soon mend matters; but he fared
no better than the rest before him.
Many others likewise ran at the Knight, but in like manner they were all
dismounted; and of a truth it was no wonder. No power of man could stay
the force of that enchanted spear, for the stranger was no other than
the famous Britomart.
Thus the warrior Princess restored that day to the Knights of Maidenhood
the prize which was well-nigh lost, and bore away the prize of prowess
from them all.
Then the shrill trumpets began to bray loudly, and bade them leave their
labour and long toil for the joyous feast and other gentle play, for now
the precious golden girdle was to be awarded to the most beautiful lady.
Through all ages it has been the custom that the prize of Beauty has
been joined with the praise of arms and Chivalry. And there are special
reasons for this, for each relies much on the other; that Knight who can
best defend a fair Lady from harm, is surely the most fitting to serve
her; and that Lady who is fairest and who will never swerve from her
faith, is the most fitting to deserve his service.
So after the proof of prowess well ended came next the contest of the
sovereign grace of beauty, in which the girdle of Florimell should fall
to her who most excelled. Many wished to win it only from vanity, and
not for the wondrous virtues which some said it possessed. For the
girdle gave the gift of constant and loyal love to all who wore it; but
whosoever was false and fickle could never keep it on, for it would
loosen itself, or else tear asunder. It was said to be of magic origin,
and Florimell, to whom it had been given long ago, held it dear as her
life. No wonder, then, that so many ladies sought to win it, for she who
wore it was accounted to be peerless.
[Illustration:
“=He at his entrance charg’d his powrefull spear
At Artegall, in middest of his pryde,
And therewith smote him on his umbriere
So sore, that tombling back, he downe did slyde.=”
]
The feast, therefore, being ended, the selected judges went down into
the late field of battle to decide this doubtful case, for which all the
ladies contended. But, first, inquiry was made as to which of those
knights who had lately tourneyed had won the wager. Then it was judged
that Satyrane had done best on the first day, for he ended last, having
begun first; the second day was adjudged to Triamond, because he saved
the victor from disaster, for Cambell was in all men’s sight the victor
till by mishap he fell into the hands of his foemen; the third day’s
prize was adjudged to the stranger knight, whom they all termed the
“Knight of the Ebony Spear,” and it was given by good right to
Britomart, for she had vanquished the “Savage Knight,” who until then
was the victor, and appeared at the last unconquered; for the last is
deemed best.
To Britomart, therefore, the fairest lady was adjudged as a companion.
But Artegall greatly grudged this, and was much vexed that this stranger
had forestalled him both of honour and of the reward of victory. He
could not dispute what was decreed, but he inwardly brooded over the
disgrace, and awaited a fit time to be avenged.
This matter being settled and every one agreed, it next followed to
decide the Paragon of Beauty, and yield to the fairest lady her due
prize.