Such was Bragadocchio, the false knight who came upon the son of the witch woman as he was walking in the wood with the false Florimell. When he saw the two, and perceived that the lady was very fair to look upon, and that he who was with her was no man of war, he rode up, with his spear in rest, crying, “Clown, how is this? This lady is my love. Gainsay it if you dare!”
The churl dare not answer him a word, but yielded the damsel to him; and he, mounting her upon Trompart’s horse, rode on, not a little proud of the valiant deed which he had done. Nor had he ridden long when there came in view a stranger knight, who cried: “Ho there! Yield the damsel to me; I have a better right than you!”
Sorely dismayed was Bragadocchio at such a challenge, but dissembled his fear, saying, “Think you, Sir Knight, to steal away with words what I have won by many blows? Yet, if you will have trial of my strength or prove your own, let it be so.”
“Turn your horse,” said the stranger, “or I will strike you dead!”
“So be it,” answered Bragadocchio, “if nothing else will content you. Let us then retire our horses for a furlong either way, and tilt together as is the custom.” So they turned their horses, and retired each a furlong’s length; but Bragadocchio came not again, but fled away as fast as his horse could carry him.
CHAPTER XXIII
SIR SATYRANE’S TOURNAMENT
By sundry adventures, which there is no need to set forth in their place, the girdle of Florimell came into the possession of Sir Satyrane, who forthwith resolved to hold in honour of it a great tournament. In this same tournament there should be, so he proclaimed, two contests; first, a contest of knights, who should joust with each other, so showing who excelled in strength and courage; second, a contest of fair ladies, she who should most fittingly wear the said girdle being adjudged the most excellent.
The beginning of the tournament was that Sir Satyrane came forth from his pavilion, holding in his hands an ark of gold. This ark he opened with much solemnity, and drew forth from it the girdle. A wondrously fair thing it was, curiously embossed with pearls and precious stones; they were all costly things, but the workmanship was costlier yet. This he held up for the general view; and all eyes were drawn to it, for indeed it was a thing greatly to be admired; nor was there one in all that company but said in his heart: “Happy the knight who shall win so fair a prize! Happy the dame who shall be deemed to wear it most fittingly.”
The girdle having been thus displayed in the sight of all the concourse, the knights disposed themselves for the jousting. And first of all Sir Satyrane came forth holding in his hand the great spear which he was wont to wield; no man in those days bore one greater, or, indeed, so great. He was the challenger, and it became him thus to be first in the field. Behind him were ranged the knights of Fairyland, owning allegiance, all of them, to the great Queen Gloriana. On the other side was ranged a great company of knights, who had come from all parts. First of these rode up a pagan knight, Sir Bruncheval, surnamed the Bold (he jousted with Sir Satyrane), whose mastery of arms had been tried in many battles. Fierce was their onset, so fierce that neither could resist the other; but both were tumbled on the plain, holding, indeed, their spears in their hands, but not able to move them so much as a hair’s-breadth. When Sir Ferramont saw his leader in this plight, he set spurs to his horse, and rode forth. Against him came out Sir Blandamour, putting all his strength into his stroke; but his strength availed him nothing, for he was tumbled on the ground, he and his horse together. And when Sir Paridell rode forth to his rescue, he fared no better. The next in turn to contend was Bragadocchio, but the thing was not to his liking, and he stood still in doubt what he should do, or rather in fear. Thereupon Sir Triamond, vexed indeed that a brave-seeming knight should bear himself so basely, but rejoicing in the occasion, rode forth with his spear in rest, and charged on Sir Ferramont with all his might. So sure was the stroke, that both man and horse were laid prostrate on the ground, nor could they lift themselves again for a space. And when Sir Devon rode forth from the Fairyland array he fared no better; nor did Sir Douglas, nor Sir Palimord, when in turn they made trial of him. Either they were stretched on the plain or went sorely wounded.
By this time Sir Satyrane had woke out of the swoon in which he had lain so long. Looking round, he was sorely dismayed to see the havoc which Sir Triamond had wrought among the knights of Queen Gloriana. “Truly,” he said to himself, “I had rather been dead than laid here helpless while such deeds were done.” Then, gathering strength, he laid hold of his spear, which lay close beside him; his horse also, by good fortune, was at hand. Mounting, therefore, he rode forth again to where the brave Triamond was carrying all before him. Not a man could stand up against him, so heavy were his strokes, so deadly was his hand. But now there came a stay to his achievements; Sir Satyrane smote him on the side with his great spear, and the point made a most grievous wound. So grievous was it, that though he was not forthwith overthrown, he was fain to withdraw himself from the field. Then the challengers ranged over the lists, claiming to be conquerors, and, indeed, no one was ready to take them in hand. And now the night fell, and the trumpets sounded a retreat. That day, therefore, Sir Satyrane was adjudged to have won the prize.