The Faery Queen and Her Knights: Stories Retold from Edmund Spenser

by Alfred John Church; Edmund Spenser

“That would I willingly do,” said she, “only that the going thither would hinder your journey to Queen Mercilla.”

“Let not that stay you,” said the prince, and Sir Artegall gave also his consent.

So they travelled onwards together. After a while the damsel said to the knights: “We are close to the place!” Then Sir Artegall and Prince Arthur consulted together what was best to be done. They agreed that the damsel should sit by the robber’s cave, and raise a great uproar, and that when he should come to see what was the cause of the disturbance, they should set upon him, and hinder his return. So the Lady Samient went to the cave, and there threw herself upon the ground, and then made a great uproar, with much wailing and many cries of grief. When the villain heard it he came forth from his den, thinking that something had come in his way. A dreadful creature he was to see, with hollow eyes, and long curling hair which fell over his shoulders, and a most uncouth and ragged garment. In his hand he carried a long staff with iron hooks at the end of it, and on his back he bore a wide net. This he used, not for fishing in the brook, but to catch such prey as he desired on the dry land, taking them unawares.

When the damsel saw this strange creature standing close by her she was not a little dismayed, and cried out for help in good earnest. But he, with guileful words, would have persuaded her that she had nothing to fear; and then, while she listened, as she could scarce refrain from doing, suddenly he threw his net about her, and lifting her from the ground ran with her to his cave. But when, as he came near to the cave mouth, he saw the two knights barring the way, he threw down on the ground his net with its burden, and fled away: like to a wild goat did he leap from rock to rock, and he ran along the cliff-side without fear, into places where Sir Artegall, for all his courage, durst not follow him. So the knight sent his iron man, Talus, to follow him. And when the knave saw that the new-comer was not less swift of foot than he was himself, and did not grow weary or scant of breath, then he left running on the hills and came down again to the plain. And here he had recourse to a new device, changing himself into various shapes. First he made himself into a fox, but Talus was not slow to hunt him as a fox is hunted; then into a bush, but the iron man beat the bush with his flail; and from the bush he made himself into a bird, but Talus threw stones at the bird, and with so sure an aim that he soon brought it to the ground, as if it had been itself a stone. This Talus took from the ground and brought it to the knights, and gave it to Sir Artegall, saying at the same time: “Take it, Sir Knight, but beware! Hold it fast!” And lo! even while he held it fast, it was changed into a hedgehog, and pricked the knight’s hand so sorely that he threw it away. And the villain returned to his own shape and would have fled. But when Talus perceived it, he followed and overtook him and led him back. Then did he change himself into a snake; but this Talus struck so heavily with his iron flail that he broke all his bones, and left him dead for the fowls of the air to devour.

After this they came to the palace of Queen Mercilla, as fair and noble a palace as was ever seen upon the earth. The porch stood open day and night, so that all comers might enter in. But a warder of giant form sat there, to keep from entering all that harboured guile or malice, and such as with flattery and dissembling work such harm in the courts of kings. The warder’s name was Awe. Such as were permitted to pass in were marshalled in the hall by another warder, whose name was Order. There they saw many noteworthy things, and chief of all the Queen Mercilla herself, where she sat on her throne, with a sceptre in her hand, a pledge of peace and clemency. And under her feet lay a great lion, very fierce of nature, but wholly tamed in that presence. So then the two did obeisance, and stood aside while the queen judged affairs of state, and ministered justice and equity to her people. Of all these affairs the chiefest was the trial of a great lady who stood before the throne, most fair and royally arrayed. Many accusations were brought against this lady, the prosecutor being one Zeal. Nor could this be wondered at, for this great lady was no other than the false Duessa. It was surely proved against her that she had deceived knights, and brought them to shame, and even to death; also that she had wrought upon two vain knights, Blandamour and Paridell, to devise hostility against Queen Mercilla herself. Sir Artegall was so moved by these accusations that, being a lover of justice, he was firm in taking the contrary part against her. Prince Arthur, on the other hand, was not a little touched by the pleadings on her behalf. When all had been heard on either side, Queen Mercilla gave judgment, and although Duessa’s guilt was clear beyond all doubt, yet she, being true to name and nature, did not adjudge the extreme penalty of death, but ordered that she should be so kept as not to do any mischief more.

CHAPTER XXXIII
OF THE LADY BELGÉ

While the two knights tarried at the court of Queen Mercilla, being entertained by her in the most liberal fashion, there came two youths from a foreign land, praying for help for their mother, the Lady Belgé. It was a piteous story that they told before the Queen Mercilla and all the knights and ladies of her court. The Lady Belgé had been in former days among the most fortunate of women. She had to husband a most worthy and noble prince, of wide dominions and great wealth; she had also a very fair progeny, even seventeen sons, fair children, and of great promise. Anyone who saw them in those days would surely have said that not Niobé herself, before she moved the wrath of Apollo and Diana, was more blessed in her progeny. Now the beginning of troubles to this honourable lady was that her husband died in his prime, before any of his children had come to such an age that they could fill his place. And because the times were ill-suited to a woman’s rule, she was constrained to look for someone who should give her help and protection. Now there was in those parts a monstrous creature, Geryoneo by name, son of that Geryon who was slain by Hercules. He was terrible to look upon, and marvellously strong, for he had three bodies joined in one, the legs and arms of three men, as it were, to help him in the fighting. He, feigning himself to be just and kind, proffered his service to the Lady Belgé while she was yet in the first trouble of her widowhood, undertaking to defend her against all enemies both from within and from without. This proffer she gladly accepted, and he, for a time, kept the promise which he had made well and loyally. But having established himself in the country, and Belgé having given into his hands all the power, he began to bear himself most cruelly. Many wrongs did he do to this most unhappy lady, but of all the wrongs the worst was this, that he took of her children, one after another, to offer up in sacrifice to a horrible idol which he had made of his father Geryon. Twelve had he taken, one by one, so that now there were left to the unhappy mother but five only. And now, all other hope having been lost, she bethought her of the gracious Queen Mercilla, and sent her two eldest sons to entreat her help.

When they had told their story there was for a while silence in the court, no one caring to take this adventure upon himself. And when Prince Arthur saw that no one offered himself, he stood forth and said: “Grant me leave, gracious queen, to succour this distressed lady!”

“Readily do I grant it,” said the queen. Thereupon he began straightway to prepare himself for his journey, for he would not lose time; even on the morrow would he start on this adventure. And so it was. So soon as the next morning came the prince set forth, not without gifts from the queen. Sir Artegall he left to follow his own business, but the two young sons of the Lady Belgé went with him, guiding him on his way.

It was but a short journey to the place where the Lady Belgé dwelt. The tyrant had shut her out from the cities of her land, and from all the pleasant spots; she had her abode in the midst of marshes and fens, and was glad to find shelter in them from the cruelty of her oppressor. In such a dismal region did Prince Arthur find her, living quite alone, for her children had left her, seeking safety elsewhere. And she herself, when she caught sight of a man clad in armour, made ready to fly. But then, spying her own two sons, she took heart, and looked up joyfully, for she knew that the stranger was come to give her help. Then she threw her arms round the necks of the two lads as they knelt before her, crying, “Oh, my sweet boys, now I seem to live again, so joyful a thing is it to see you! Surely the sun shines brighter than its wont, thanks to your coming and to the presence of this noble knight.” Then turning to Prince Arthur she said: “Noble sir, who have taken all this trouble to help a miserable woman, may heaven reward you for your goodness. Reward have I none to give, for all that is left to me is bare life, and that life so full of misery that it is more like to a lingering death!”