“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.
CHAPTER VIII
OF THE DEEDS OF PRINCE ARTHUR
When they had travelled a score of miles or so, they came to a castle which was built very high and strong. Thereupon the Dwarf cried out, “This is the place in which my good lord lies a prisoner, the thrall of the giant Orgoglio.” Thereupon the Prince Arthur alighted from his steed, and said to the Lady Una, “Stay here, madam, and await the issue of this day’s combat.” Then, at his bidding, the squire came near to the wall of the castle. He found the gates fast shut, with no warder to guard them, nor was there any to answer when he called. Then the squire took in his hand a bugle that he bore, that hung by his side with a chain of gold decked with gay tassels. It was a bugle of wondrous power; for three miles it could be heard, and there came out of space three answers to its blast, nor could anyone in whose heart there was aught of falsehood endure to hear it without dismay, nor could any bolt or bar, however stout they might be, withstand its summons. This bugle, then, Prince Arthur’s squire sounded before the giant’s castle. And it was shaken straightway from the foundation to the topmost towers, and the doors flew open of their own accord. The giant himself was much troubled at the sound, and came with staggering steps, as one smitten with a sudden fear, to see what it might mean. And after came the false Duessa, riding on a many-headed beast, with fiery tongues, for such a monster the giant had given her for her own.
Prince Arthur without delay addressed himself to the fight. Nor did the giant draw back, being persuaded that no mortal man could stand up against him and prevail. He thought, indeed, to slay him with a single blow, and lifted up his mighty club. But the Prince was wise and wary, and, lightly leaping aside, he escaped the stroke unhurt, for he thought it no shame to use his craft against brute strength. As for the club, so missing its aim, it sank deep into the earth, making a furrow a yard deep and more. The giant pulled at it amain, seeking to lift it for another stroke, but could not prevail, so fast was it buried. The knight, therefore, had him at a disadvantage, and smote him with his sword so deadly a stroke that it shore off his arm. Loud did he bellow with fear and pain, and Duessa, seeing her champion in sore distress, made the great beast on which she sat advance against the Knight. But now Prince Arthur’s squire, a gallant warrior, worthy of such a lord, stood forth and, with his single sword, barred the way. In high disdain to be hindered by so weak a foe Duessa yet again urged on the beast, but still the squire stood firm; he would not give place a single step lest the enemy should so gain an advantage against his lord. Then Duessa had recourse to her magic arts, for she took of the magic juices which she ever carried with her, and sprinkled them upon the youth, and quenched his courage and robbed him of his strength, so that he could neither see nor stand. So he fell all his length upon the earth, and the beast laid his deadly claws upon his neck, and would have crushed the life out of him. But the Knight, perceiving his evil plight, turned quickly from his own adversary, and addressed himself to the beast, for, indeed, it grieved him much that his faithful squire should have come into such peril of his life. So, lifting high the sword with which he had smitten the giant, he smote the beast upon one of its heads, making the blood pour out amain. But when the beast, writhing to and fro in its pain, would have shaken Duessa from her seat upon its back, and she cried out in her fear, the giant came to her help. He was, indeed, of no common nature, nor was he disabled by the wound which would have bereft all other creatures of strength. In the one hand which was left to him there dwelt the strength of the two, and now being free to use again his club of oak, he lifted it up high and dealt such a blow at Prince Arthur’s shield that it brought him to the ground. But now by this very stroke the Knight’s deliverance was wrought, for the covering was torn from the shield by its violence, and all its brightness was revealed. With so great a splendour did it blaze into the giant’s eyes that he dropped his arm and let fall the club with which he was ready to slay his adversary. The beast also was blinded by that brightness, and fell reft of its senses on the ground. Nor when Duessa cried aloud to the giant in her fear could he render effectual help. With stroke after stroke the Prince lopped from him limb after limb, till he lay dead upon the ground. And then this marvel came to pass. This creature which had seemed so vast seemed to vanish away. As for Duessa, she sprang from off the beast, and would have fled away upon her feet. But this the squire would not suffer, for, pursuing her with speedy feet, he laid hold of her and brought her back to the Prince to await his judgment.
And now the Lady Una, who in fear and trembling had watched the combat from a distance, came near and thanked both Knight and squire for the good service which they had rendered. “I cannot repay you,” she said; “may Heaven give you your reward and with usury. Suffer me to say one thing. Let not this false woman depart, for, indeed, she is the cause of all the mischief that has been wrought.” Then Prince Arthur said to his squire: “Take this woman in charge; I will go seek the Red-Cross Knight.” So he departed on this errand, and, entering the castle, sought someone of whom he might inquire. No one did he find, and though he called aloud, there was none to answer. At last there came forth an old man leaning on a staff with which he guided his steps, for the sight of his eyes had failed him long since, and carrying a great bunch of keys, but all of them overgrown with rust. His name was Ignaro. A reverend sire he seemed, and the Knight asked him with all courtesy: “Who are they that dwell in this place, and where may they be found?” “I cannot tell,” he said. Then the Prince asked again: “Where, then, is the Knight whom the giant Orgoglio holds in thrall?” “I cannot tell,” said he again, nor did he say any other words. The Prince’s anger rose at this foolishness, but he checked it as should a courteous knight, and, taking the keys from the old man’s hand, essayed to open the doors, nor did they delay to yield. Great riches he found within—store of gold, and tapestry finely wrought, and much splendid furnishing; but the floor was foul with blood. Vainly did he search through all the chambers; the prisoner he could not find. At last he came to an iron door. It was fast locked, nor was there a key upon the bunch that would open it. But in the door there was a grating of iron bars. Through this he called aloud: “Dwells there anyone in this place, for I will set him free?” To this there came a low voice making this reply: “Who is that who comes? Three months have I lain in this foul dungeon, and if you bring me death itself I would choose it rather than to stay in this place.” When the Prince heard these words he was overcome with horror and pity; not the less, gathering up all his strength, he smote the door, and brake it from its hinges. But when the opening was made, lo! on the other side was no floor but only a deep pit, dark as night, from which there came up a loathsome smell. But neither the pit nor the darkness nor the vile stench abated the Prince’s courage. With much pains and toil he drew up the prisoner from the pit. Sadly wasted was he. He could not stand upon his feet, and his eyes, deep sunk in the sockets, could not bear to look upon the light, and his arms that had been so staunch and strong in the old time were wasted to the bone. So the Prince carried him to the castle door. And when the Lady Una saw him, she was filled with pity and ruth and would have comforted him: “Welcome, my lord,” she cried, “whom I have so long desired to see. Soon shall you have a recompense for all that you have suffered.” “Dear lady,” he made answer, “we will not speak of the evil that is past; only let us beware that we fall not into it again. For, indeed, there is engraven in my heart, as with a pen of iron, this true saying: ‘Happiness may not abide in the heart of mortal man.’”
As for the false Duessa, they were content to strip her of her robes and ornaments. And fouler creature to behold there never was. Then the knights and the squire and the Lady Una tarried awhile in the castle, where they found all things that they needed. So they took for sundry days a rest from their toil.
CHAPTER IX
OF THE HOUSE OF HOLINESS
The time was now come when, having rested sufficiently, the Red-Cross Knight must set forth again, and Prince Arthur, being bound for another land, must bid his companions farewell. Then said the Lady Una: “Tell us now your name and nation, for it would be a great loss not to know to whom we owe so great a debt.” “Fair lady,” said he, “you ask me that which it passeth my wit to answer. This only do I know, that so soon as I was born I was taken by a knight of Fairyland to Timon, now the wisest, as he was once the most expert, in arms among living men, by him to be brought up in all virtuous lore and noble accomplishment. To his house the great Merlin would often come, for he had the chief charge of my upbringing, and he, when I asked him of my family, answered: ‘Be content; you are the son and heir of a king, as shall be made manifest in due time.’” “And how,” said the Lady Una, “came you here seeking adventure?” “You bid me renew an unspeakable grief,” he answered. “There was a time when I laughed at the name of Love, and thought scorn of all that suffered from its power. But there came a time when I myself confessed it. On a certain day, being wearied out with sport, I laid me down to sleep. And in my sleep I dreamt a dream. The Queen of Fairyland stood by my side and told me that she loved me and would show her love when the time should come. Such was my dream; whether it was false or true I know not—only that never in this world did man see so fair a sight or hear words so sweet. And when I woke I vowed in my heart that I would seek her, and never rest till I had found her. Nine months have I sought her, but in vain.” The Lady Una said: “Happy Queen of Fairies that has found so gallant a champion!” and the Red-Cross Knight said: “O sir, to whom I owe my life, if ever man was worthy of such love, you are surely he!”
And now the time was come when they must part. Prince Arthur gave to the Knight a box of diamonds set in gold, wherein were drops of a wondrous liquid of a virtue so excellent that it could heal the most grievous wounds. And the Knight gave to the Prince a book in which the Gospels were written in golden letters.