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

by Alfred John Church; Edmund Spenser

The prince was not a little moved at these sorrowful words, and sought to comfort her. “Take heart, dear lady,” he said, “for help is at hand, and these, your troubles, will have an end. But now come with me, and find some spot where you may more conveniently dwell than in this miserable place.”

“Ah sir,” she answered, “to what place shall I go? The enemy dwells in my palaces, my cities are sacked, my towers are levelled with the ground, and what were abodes of men are fields where the wild flowers grow. Only these marshes, the abode of efts and frogs, are left to me.”

“Nay, good lady,” answered the prince, “think better things than these. We will find some place to harbour us. And if it yield not itself willingly, then will we compel it; for all that your adversary may do, we will purchase it with spear and shield; and if not, then the open field shall give us welcome; earth has a lodging for all its creatures.” With such words did the prince encourage her, so that she made ready to go with him.

They set out therefore and came to a city which once had been the Lady Belgé’s own, but had been taken from her by her enemy. He had pulled down its stately towers, closed its harbour, marred the trade of its merchants, and brought its people to poverty. And he had built a great fort from which he dominated the place. For a while the city had resisted his tyranny, but had now submitted itself to him, so purchasing life, but losing all else that is worth the having. Many things did it suffer from his tyranny, but of all that it endured the worst was this, that it was compelled to offer sacrifices of human life to a hideous idol which the tyrant had set up in a chapel which he had built and adorned with costliest fittings of gold and ivory. In this city he had put a strong garrison, and in command of this garrison he had set a seneschal, a very stalwart knight, who had vanquished hitherto all the knights that had ventured to come against him. He had vanquished them, and when he had them in his power he had dealt with them in the most shameful fashion.

Prince Arthur slaying the Seneschal.

When the Lady Belgé knew the place, she said to the prince, “Oh, sir, beware what you venture; very many knights have been undone at this place.” To this warning he paid no heed, but riding up to the wall of the city, called to the watchmen, “I challenge to single combat the seneschal of this fortress.” Nor did the man delay to come, but donning his armour, rode forth from the city gate. The two combatants met in full tilt in the open field, charging each the other with his spear full upon the shield. But the spear of the seneschal made no way, of so pure and well-refined a metal was the prince’s shield. Broken was it into pieces without number. But the spear of the prince passed through the pagan’s cuirass, and made a deep wound in his body, so that he fell from his horse to the ground. There the prince left him to lie, for he was dead almost before he touched the ground, and rode straight to the fortress seeking entrance. But as he rode he spied three knights advancing towards him at the top speed of their horses. All three charged him at once, all aiming their spears at one place in his armour. But the prince did not swerve from his straight seat in his saddle, no, not by a hair’s-breadth. Firm as a tower he sat, and with his spear he smote that one of the three who had the middle place. Nor was his smiting in vain, for he drove the spear through the shield and through the side of the man, so that he fell dead straight-way on his mother-earth. When his fellows saw how easily he had been overcome, they fled away as fast as their steeds could carry them. But the prince followed yet faster, and overtook them hard by the city gate. There, as they hasted to enter, one hindered the other, and the prince slew the hindmost. The third, striving to shut the gate in his adversary’s face, was hindered by the carcase of his companion, for it lay in the way. So he fled into the hall which stood at the entering in of the gate, hoping so to save himself, but the prince following hard after him, slew him there. When they that were left of the garrison saw how it had gone with these three, they were sore afraid, and fled in great terror, escaping by a postern door. When the prince found no more to oppose him, he returned to the Lady Belgé, and brought her into the city, her two sons being with her. Many thanks did she render for the good service which he had done her.

When the tidings of what had befallen the seneschal and his knights came to the sultan, he was carried out of himself with rage. Nevertheless there was something of fear mingled with his rage, for his conscience smote him with the thought that the recompense of his evil deeds was at hand. Nevertheless he comforted himself with this: “There is but one of them, and he cannot always prevail.” Therefore he armed himself: also he took with him all the followers that he had, and marched to the gate of the city, and there demanded entrance, saying, “Yield me up this place straightway, for it is my own.”

To this summons the prince made no answer, but rode forth through the gate, ready armed for battle. And being on the farther side he said, “Are you he that has done all this wrong to the noble Lady Belgé, exiling her from her own land in such fashion that all the world cries shame on you?”

The tyrant answered, “I stand on my own right; what I have done, that will I justify!” So saying he ran furiously at the prince, beating upon his armour with a great battle-axe as if he would have chopped it in pieces. So fierce was his onset that the prince was constrained to give place awhile. So heavy were his strokes, one had thought they would have riven a rock asunder. Also he had the advantage of his threefold form. Three pairs of hands he had, and he could shift his weapon from one to the other as occasion served. So crafty was he and so nimble, that an adversary scarce could know where and when he should defend himself. But the prince was his match and more. Ever he watched the motion of his hands, and parried the blow wherever it might fall. And the tyrant, being thus baffled again and again, roared for very rage, till, at the last, gathering up all the strength of the three bodies into one stroke, he thought to fell his adversary to the ground. What had happened had the stroke come upon the man none can say, but it lighted on the horse and brought him to the ground. So now the prince was constrained to fight on foot, and the giant laughed aloud to think that he had him at a disadvantage. But the fortune of the fight went not so. Now this arm and now that did the prince shear away with his good sword, and he himself was sheltered safe under his shield; so faultless was its temper, that no blow could shatter it. And ever the giant was more and more carried away by his rage, till, at the last, offering his whole side to the attack of the prince, he was brought to the ground a corpse, nay, three corpses, for all were smitten to death by the one stroke, and lay a bloody heap upon the plain.