The Legend of Britomart (continued 2)

“Then tell me, Sir Savage Knight,” said Scudamour, “do you dwell here, within the forest, which would answer well with your array?—Or have you put it on for some special occasion, as seems more likely, as you shun known arms?”

“The other day a stranger Knight brought shame and dishonour on me,” replied the Savage Knight. “I 251am waiting to revenge the disgrace whenever he shall pass this way, by day or night.”

“Shame be his reward who purposes shame!” said Scudamour. “But what is he by whom you were shamed?”

“A stranger Knight, unknown by name, but known by fame and by an ebony spear, with which he bore down all who met him. He, in an open tourney lately held, stole away from me the honour of the game, and having felled me (already weary), reft me of the fairest lady, whom he has ever since withheld.”

When Scudamour heard mention of the spear, he knew right well it was Britomart, who also, as he imagined, had taken Amoret from himself. Then his jealous heart swelled with rage, and he said sharply, “And that is not the first unknightly act which that same knight has done to other noble warriors, for he has lately stolen my lady from me, for which he shall pay dearly before long; and if to the vengeance decreed by you this hand can supply any help or succour, it shall not fail whensoever you need it.”

So they both agreed to wreak their wrath on Britomart.

While they thus talked together, lo! far away they saw a Knight gently riding towards them. He was attired in foreign armour and strange array, and when he came near they saw plainly he was the same for whom they waited.

Then said Scudamour, “Sir Savage Knight, let me beg this, that since I was the first to be wronged, let 252me be the first to requite it, and if I happen to fail, you shall recover my right.”

This being yielded, Sir Scudamour prepared his spear for battle, and ran fiercely against Britomart. But she gave him so rude a welcome that she smote both man and horse to the ground, from which they were in no hurry to rise. The sight of his mischance added fresh fuel to Artegall’s burning rage, and thrusting forward his steel-headed lance at a venture, he rode against Britomart; but his evil intention recoiled on himself, for unawares he suddenly left his saddle, and in great amazement found himself on the ground.

Starting up lightly, he snatched forth his deadly blade, and assailed Britomart with such vigour that, although she was mounted and he on foot, she was forced to give ground. As they darted here and there, it chanced in her wheeling round that one stroke fell on her horse and wounded him so badly that Britomart was forced to alight.

Now she could no longer use her enchanted spear. Casting it from her, she betook herself to her sword and shield, and fought so valiantly that even now she was almost a match for Sir Artegall; but towards the end, while his strength seemed to get greater, hers grew less. At last, he raised his hand, and gathering all his force, struck such a terrible blow that it seemed as if nothing but death could be her fate.

The stroke fell on her helmet, and with its force sheared off the visor, and from there glanced harmlessly downwards, and did her no more injury.

With that, her angel face, unseen before, shone 253forth radiant as the dawn; and round about it her yellow hair, loosed from its usual bands, appeared like a golden border, cunningly framed in a goldsmith’s forge. Yet goldsmith’s cunning never knew how to fashion such subtle wire, so clear and shining; for it glistened like the golden sand which the bright water of Pactolus throws forth on the shore around him.

As Sir Artegall again lifted up his hand, thinking to work his utmost vengeance on her, his powerless arm, benumbed with secret fear, shrunk back from his revengeful purpose, and his cruel sword fell from his slack fingers to the ground; as if the steel had sense and felt some compassion that his hand lacked, or as if both of them thought to do obedience to such divine beauty. And Artegall himself, gazing long thereon, at last fell humbly down upon his knee; and imagining he saw some angelic being—for he did not know what else it could be—he besought her to pardon his error, which had done her such infinite wrong, while trembling horror seized him, and made every limb quake and his brave heart quail.

Britomart, nevertheless, full of wrath for that last stroke, kept her angry hand uplifted all the while; she stood over him, with a stern look, threatening to strike, unless he prevented her, and bidding him rise, or he should surely die. But die or live, nothing would make Sir Artegall stand up. He prayed more earnestly that the warrior-maiden would either pardon him or do with him as she chose, because of the great wrong he had done her.

When Scudamour saw this, where he stood not far 254away, he was wondrously dismayed, and, drawing near and seeing plainly this peerless image of perfection, he too was terrified, and did homage to Britomart as to some celestial vision.

But Glaucé, seeing all that happened, knew well how to put right their error. Glad at such a good ending, and rejoiced to see Britomart safe after her 255long toil, she advanced, and saluted her with a hearty greeting. Then she besought her, as she was dear to her, to grant truce for awhile to these warriors, which being yielded, they lifted their beavers and showed themselves to her such as indeed they were.

How Britomart ended her Quest

When Britomart, with keen, observant eye, beheld the beautiful face of Artegall, tempered with sternness, strength, and majesty, her mind at once recalled it as the same which in her father’s palace she had seen long since in that enchanted mirror. Then her wrathful courage began to falter, and her haughty spirit to grow tame, so that she softly withdrew her uplifted hand. Yet she tried again to raise it, as if feigning the anger which was now cold; but always when she saw his face, her hand fell down, and would no longer hold the weapon against him. Then having tried in vain to fight, she armed her tongue, and thought to scold him. Nevertheless, her tongue would not obey her will, but when she would have spoken against him, brought forth mild speeches instead.

Sir Scudamour, glad at heart because he had found all his jealous fears false, now exclaimed jestingly, “Truly, Sir Artegall, I rejoice to see you bow so low, and that you have lived to become a lady’s thrall, who formerly were wont to despise them!”

When Britomart heard the name of Artegall, her heart leaped and trembled with sudden joy and secret 256fear. She flushed deeply, and thought to hide her agitation by again feigning her former angry mood.

Then Glaucé began wisely to put all matters right. First, she told both the knights not to marvel any more at the strange part Fate had made Britomart play; then she bade Sir Artegall not to lament because he had been conquered by a woman, for love was the crown of Knighthood; and, lastly, she entreated Britomart to relent the severity of her anger, and, wiping out the remembrance of all ill, to grant pardon to Artegall, if he would fulfil the penance she would impose on him. “For lovers’ happiness is reached by the path of sorrow,” she added.

At this, Britomart blushed, but Sir Artegall smiled to himself and rejoiced in his heart; yet he dared not speak too suddenly of the love he bore her, for her grave and modest face and royal bearing still kept him in awe.

But Scudamour, whose heart hung all this while in suspense between hope and fear, longing to hear some glad and certain news of his Lady Amoret, now addressed Britomart. “Sir, may I ask of you tidings of my love, my Amoret, since you freed her from her long and woeful captivity? Tell me where you left her, so that I may seek her, as is fitting.”

“Indeed, Sir Knight, what has become of her, or if she has been stolen away, I cannot rightly tell you,” replied Britomart. “From the time I freed her from the Enchanter’s captivity, I have preserved her from peril and fear, and always kept her from harm, nor was there ever any one whom I loved more dearly; but 257one day, as we travelled through a desert wild, both being weary, we alighted and sat down in the shadow, where I fearlessly lay down to sleep. When I awoke, I did not find Amoret where I had left her, but thought she had wandered away or got lost. I called her loudly, I sought her near and far, but nowhere could find her, nor hear any tidings of her.”

When Scudamour heard this bad news his heart was thrilled with fear, and he stood dazed and silent. Glaucé tried to comfort him, bidding him not give way to needless dread until he was certain what had happened, “for she may yet be safe, though she has wandered away,” she said. “It is best to hope the best, though afraid of the worst!”

But he took no heed of her cheerful words, till Britomart said, “You have, indeed, great cause of sorrow, sir; but take comfort, for by the light of heaven I swear not to leave you, dead or living, till I find your Lady, and be avenged on him who stole her!”

With that he was contented.

So, peace being established amongst them all, they took their horses and rode forward to some resting-place, guided by Sir Artegall. Here a hearty welcome greeted them, with daily feasting, both in bower and hall, until their wounds were well healed, and their weary limbs recovered after their late rough usage.

And all the time Sir Artegall and Britomart grew more and more in love with each other, though Britomart did all she could to hide her feeling. But so winningly did Sir Artegall woo her that at last she was 258obliged to listen to him, and to relent. She consented to be his wife, and the marriage took place.

But their happiness was not yet complete. Sir Artegall was all this while bound upon a hard adventure, which had still to be fulfilled, and when a fitting time came, he had to depart on his quest. Poor Britomart would scarcely let him go, though he faithfully promised to return directly he had achieved his task, which would probably take him not longer than three months. With that she had to be appeased for the present, however 259unhappy she really felt; and early the next morning Sir Artegall started. Britomart went with him for a while on his journey. She could not bear to part from him, but all the way kept trying to find excuses for delay. Many a time she took leave, and then again invented something to say, so unwilling was she to lose his company. But at last she could find no further excuse, so, with a sad heart, she left him and returned to Scudamour, whom she had promised to aid in his search for Amoret.

Sir Scudamour and Britomart went back to the desert forest, where the latter had lately lost Amoret. They sought her there, and inquired everywhere for tidings, yet found none.

But by what hapless fate or terrible misfortune the Lady Amoret had been conveyed away is too long to tell here. In another story may be read the adventures that befell her after she parted from Britomart.

260