As Sir Artegall travelled on his way he saw far off a crowd of many
people, to whom he hastened, in order to discover the cause of such a
large assembly. When he came near he saw a strange sight—a troop of
women clad in warlike fashion, with weapons in their hands, as if ready
to fight; and in the midst of them he saw a Knight, with both hands
pinioned behind him, and round about his neck a halter tight, ready
prepared for the gallows. His head was bare and his face covered, so
that it was not easy to distinguish him. He went along with a heavy
heart, grieved to the soul, and groaning inwardly that he should die so
base a death at the hands of women. But they, like merciless tyrants,
rejoiced at his misery, and reviled him, and sorely reproached him with
bitter taunts and terms of disgrace.
When Artegall, arriving at the place, asked what cause had brought the
man to destruction, the women swarmed eagerly around him, meaning to lay
their cruel hands on him, and to do him some unexpected mischief. But he
was soon aware of their evil mind, and drawing back defeated their
intention. He was ashamed to disgrace himself by fighting with women, so
he sent Talus to punish them for their rash folly. With a few strokes of
his iron flail the latter speedily dispersed their troop, and sent them
home to tell a piteous tale of their vain prowess turned to their own
injury.
The wretched man doomed to death they left behind them, glad to be quit
of them. Talus soon set him at liberty, and released him from his horror
at such a shameful death, unfitting a knight, which he dreaded more than
loss of life; and uncovering his face, he brought him to his master, who
then knew him at once.
[Illustration: A group of armored figures walking along a path, with one
man raising a sword and shield in the foreground.]
“Sir Terpin!” cried Artegall. “Hapless man, what are you doing here?
Have you lost yourself and your senses? Or have you, who can boast of
subduing men, yielded to the oppression of women? Or what other deadly
misfortune has fallen on you, that you have run so foolishly far astray
as to lead yourself to your own destruction?”
The man was so confused, partly with shame, partly with dismay, that he
stood lost in astonishment, and could find little to say in excuse.
“You may justly term me hapless, who am brought to this shame, and am
to-day made the scorn of knighthood,” was his only answer. “But who can
escape Fate? The work of Heaven’s will surpasses human thought.”
“True,” said Sir Artegall, “but faulty men often attribute their own
folly to Fate, and lay on Heaven the guilt of their own crimes. But tell
me, Sir Terpin—and do not let your misery daunt you—how you fell into
this state.”
“Since you needs will know my shame,” said the Knight, “and all the ill
which has lately chanced to me, I will briefly relate it, and do not
turn my misfortune to my blame.
“Being desirous, as all knights are, to try deeds of arms through hard
adventures, and to hunt after fame and honour, I heard a report which
flew far abroad that a proud Amazon lately bade defiance to all brave
knights, and wrought them all the villainy her malice could devise,
putting some to shame, and doing many of them to death.
“The cause of her hate is for the sake of a Knight called Bellodant the
Bold, whom a short time ago she liked greatly, and tried in every way to
attract; but finding nothing of any avail, her love turned to hatred,
and for his sake she vowed to do all the ill she could to other
knights,—which vow she now fulfils.
“For all those knights whom by force or guile she subdues she treats
shamefully. First she despoils them of their armour, and clothes them in
women’s garments; then with threats she compels them to work to earn
their food—to spin, to card, to sew, to wash, to wring. She gives them
nothing to eat but bread and water, or some such feeble food, to disable
them from attempting revenge.
“But if with manly disdain any of them withstand her insolent commands,
she causes them to be immediately hanged on that gibbet over there, in
which condition I stood just now; for being conquered by her in fight,
and put to the base service of her band, I chose rather to die than to
live that shameful life, unworthy of a knight.”
“What is the name of that Amazon?” asked Artegall. “And where, and how
far hence does she live?”
“Her name is called Radigund,” replied Sir Terpin, “a princess of great
power, and greater pride, Queen of the Amazons, well tried in arms and
sundry battles, which she has achieved with great success, and which
have won her much glory and fame.”
“Now, by my faith,” said Sir Artegall, “I will not rest till I have
tested her power, and avenged the shame that she shows to knights.
Therefore, Sir Terpin, throw from you those squalid clothes, the pattern
of despair, and go with me, that you may see and know how Fortune will
repair your ruined name and knighthood, whose praise she would tarnish.”
Sir Terpin joyfully threw off his iron fetters, and eagerly prepared to
guide the way to the dwelling of the Amazon, which was not more than a
mile or two distant—a goodly and a mighty city, called after her own
name Radigund.
On their arrival they were immediately espied by the watchman, who
warned all the city of the appearance of three warlike persons, of whom
one seemed like a Knight fully armed, and the other two likely to prove
dangerous. The people ran at once to put on their armour, swarming in a
cluster like bees, and before long their Queen herself, looking half
like a man, came forth into the crowd, and began to set them in array.
And now the Knights, being arrived near, beat upon the gates to enter
in; threatening the porter, who scorned them for being so few, to tear
him to pieces if they won the city. When Radigund heard them her heart
was torn with rage. She bade her people to unbar the gates at once, and
to make way for the Knights with well-prepared weapons.
As soon as the gates were set open the Knights pressed forward to make
an entrance, but midway they were met by a sharp shower of arrows, which
stopped them. Then all the mob attacked them savagely heaping strokes so
fast on every side, and with such a hail of arrows, that the Knights
could not withstand them. But Radigund herself, when she espied Sir
Terpin freed from her cruel doom, was suddenly seized with a fit of
fury, and flying at him like a lioness, smote him so fiercely that he
fell to the ground. Then she leaped to him, and placed her foot on his
neck.
When Sir Artegall saw the Knight’s peril, he sprang at once to his
rescue, and assailed Radigund with such vigour that he drove her back.
For a moment she was stunned, but as soon as she collected her senses
she turned on Sir Artegall, half-mad with revengeful anger and pride,
for she had never suffered such a rebuff. But before they could meet in
fight her maidens flocked round her so fast that they parted them, in
spite of their valour, and kept them far asunder. But amongst the others
the fight lasted till the evening.
And all the while the great Iron Man sorely vexed the Amazons with his
strange weapon, to which they had never been accustomed in war. He
chased and outran them, and broke their bows, and spoilt their shooting,
so that not one of them all dared to go near him. They scattered like
sheep before a wolf, and fled before him through all the fields and
valleys.
But when the daylight grew dim with the shadows of night, Radigund, with
the sound of a trumpet, caused her people to cease fighting, and
gathering them to the gate of the city, made them all enter, and had the
weak and wounded conveyed in, before she would retreat herself.
When the field was thus empty and all things quiet, Sir Artegall, weary
with toil and travel, caused his pavilion to be richly prepared in full
view of the city gate. He himself, together with Sir Terpin, rested here
in safety all that night; but Talus was accustomed, in times of
jeopardy, to keep a nightly watch for fear of treachery.
Radigund, full of heart-gnawing grief for the rebuke she had met that
day, could take no rest nor relief, but tossed about in her mind in what
way she could revenge her disgrace. Then she resolved to try her fortune
in single fight herself, rather than see her people destroyed, as she
had seen that day.
She called to her a trusty maid, named Clarinda, whom she thought
fittest for the business, and said to her—
“Go, damsel, quickly; get ready to do the message which I shall tell
you. Go you to the stranger Knight who yesterday drove us to such
distress; tell him that to-morrow I will fight with him, and try in a
fair field which is the mightier.
“But these conditions you must propound to him—that if I vanquish him he
shall obey my law, and ever be bound to do my bidding. And so will I, if
he vanquish me, whatever he shall like to do or say. Go straight, and
take with you as witness six of your companions of the highest rank; and
carry with you wine and rich delicacies, and bid him eat: henceforth he
shall often sit hungry.”
The damsel instantly obeyed, and putting all in readiness went forth to
the town gate, where, sounding a trumpet loudly from the wall, she sent
warning to the warrior Knights. Then Talus, issuing from the tent, took
his way fearlessly to the wall, to know what that sounding of the
trumpet meant, whereupon the damsel called to him, and explained that
she wished to parley with his lord.
Then he conducted them at once to his master, who gave them a cordial
greeting, and to whom they told their message, word for word. Sir
Artegall, gladly accepting it, entertained them with fitting courtesy,
and gave them rich and handsome gifts. So they turned their steps
homeward again, but Artegall went back to rest, that he might be fresher
against the next day’s fight.