“So be it,” said the sham knight, “your fate has baulked my will, and given you life when I had purposed death. So be it; life I give you. Fall on the ground, and kiss my stirrup. So pay your homage.”
Then the wretch threw himself on the ground, and kissed the stirrup, and declared himself to be Bragadocchio’s man. For a while he held his master in great respect, but when he found out how hollow was his show of courage, then he grew bolder, and practised upon him for his own ends. Trompart was his name, which, being interpreted, means deceiver; a worthy squire he was for such a knight.
They had not long companied together when they chanced to meet Archimage, who was looking out for some men-at-arms to help him in his evil designs. He, coming close to Trompart, said to him under his breath: “Who is this mighty warrior, who has a spear only and no sword?”
Said Trompart: “He is indeed a mighty warrior; as for his sword, he has made a vow that he will use none till he shall be avenged for a certain wrong that has been done to him. Meanwhile his spear is enough: he can do to death with that as many as he will.” Then Archimage, louting low before him, told a false tale about the Red-Cross Knight and Sir Guyon, which when Bragadocchio had heard, he cried with a loud voice: “Old man, tell me where these false knights are hiding themselves. I will soon punish them for all their misdeeds.”
“That will I do without delay,” answered Archimage, “and will help you also when you come to deal with them. Meanwhile I would give you this counsel, that you give no odds to your adversaries, but provide yourself with a sword before you do battle with them, for, indeed, they are sturdy fighters.”
“Old man,” said Bragadocchio, “you dote. Doubtless your wits have failed you by reason of age, or you would not judge of a man by his coat of mail or his sword. A man, be he indeed a man, can quell a host without sword or shield. Little do you know what this right hand of mine has achieved; but they who have seen it can tell if they will.”
Not a little abashed was Archimage at these high words; well he knew in his heart that whoso should do battle with the Red-Cross Knight or Sir Guyon would need all his arms, and yet he feared to offend this knight. Then Bragadocchio said further: “Once upon a time I slew seven knights with one sword. And I took a great oath, having done this, never again to use a sword in battle, unless it should be the sword of the very noblest knight in all the world.”
“Wait you for that,” said Archimage, “then you shall have it by to-morrow at this time. ’Tis the sword of Prince Arthur, and it flames like a burning fire. Lo! I go to fetch it.” And as he spoke he vanished into air.
“What is this?” thought the two to themselves in sore dismay, for they liked little to have aught to do with such a sword. And they fled from the place as fast as they could to hide themselves in a wood which was near at hand. This they had scarcely reached when they heard the clear ringing of a horn. Thereupon Bragadocchio leapt from his horse and hid his coward head in a thicket. As for Trompart, he was not easily moved, but abode in his place to see what should happen. Soon there came into the glade where they were a very fair lady dressed in huntress fashion. She had a fair white tunic with an edge of gold and gilded buskins, and a boar-spear in her hand, and on her shoulder a bow and a quiver filled with steel-headed arrows. And all about them flowed loosely down her golden hair. When she spied Trompart she said: “Saw you a hind with an arrow in her right haunch? If so, tell me which way she went, that I may follow up the chase.” But while she was speaking, she saw the bush stir in which Bragadocchio lay hid, and thinking it was some beast of prey, would have shot an arrow into it.
But Trompart cried: “Forbear, I pray you, whether you be nymph or mortal maid. That is no mark for your arrows. My master, a famous knight, rests awhile under the shade.” So she stayed her hand, and Bragadocchio came forth from his hiding-place on his hands and knees, and after stood up, making as if he had been newly roused from sleep. After this they talked awhile, and when the lady had passed on, Bragadocchio said to Trompart: “I had from my birth this grace, not to fear any mortal thing. But of the heavenly powers and of the fiends in hell I do stand, I do honestly confess, in great dread. And when I heard that horn, I took it for some signal from the sky, and hid myself for fear. And now let us depart hence.”