CHAPTER XVII

HOW BRITOMART TOOK TO ARMS

From Merlin’s cave these two, Britomart and Glaucé, her nurse, went back to their own home. There they consulted together many days how they might best carry out their purpose of seeking Sir Artegall. At last Glaucé said: “My daughter, I have conceived in my heart a scheme, somewhat bold, I must confess, yet such as may be accomplished if you are both brave and prudent. And above all things, it is in good accord with the conditions of these present days. You must know that the good King Uther has of late made war against the pagan brothers, Octa and Oza, who are newly come to this country from the lands which lie about the Northern Sea, and has won a great victory over them and their people, and that all Britain is now in a great flame of war. My counsel therefore is, seeing that armed men are everywhere, let us make ourselves as armed men. Let our hands, weak though they be by nature, learn to handle the spear and the sword, nor shall we fail therein, for there are no scholars so apt as they who have need for their teacher. And, indeed, my daughter, you are one who should easily learn such matters, for you are both tall and strong, and need practice only, which being had, you should be as truly martial a maid as you could wish. Nor is such a thing unknown in the race from which you come. Such was the bold Boadicea, who reigned in old time over the Iceni, for she made haughty Rome to tremble before her, and others, as Gwendolen and Emmilen. Hear also this thing which I saw with my own eyes. On the battlefield at Menevia, where King Uther last fought against the pagan hosts, there was a Saxon virgin who thrice struck to the earth the great Ulfin himself. Verily she had slain him as he lay, but that Caradoc held her hand, and Caradoc himself had much ado to escape from her without hurt.”

“Tell me, I pray you, her name,” said Britomart.

“They call her Angela,” the nurse made answer, “and she is as fair as she is strong. She is the leader of a tribe who are more to be feared than all other Saxons; they call themselves Angles.”

Much was the maiden moved by this tale, so that she made her resolve, unknown to her father, to take upon herself all the duties and adventures which were fitting to a knight. And she said to her nurse: “See, Glaucé, that you have all things ready that are convenient to my new estate.” And this Glaucé did with all readiness and care. Fortune also helped in the matter; for about this time a band of Britons, being abroad on a foray, took a great spoil of Saxon goods, and among them goodly armour decked with gold, and arms of proof which belonged to the Saxon queen Angela. These spoils King Ryence commanded to be hung up in the chapel of his palace, that they might be a memorial for all time of the great victory which God had given to his arms. Into this same chapel Glaucé led the maiden Britomart late in the night when no one was near, and taking down the armour, clad her in it, and she gave her the arms also, chief among these being a wonderful spear which King Bladud had made by magical arts many years before. This virtue it had, that whosoever might be struck by the point thereof, could not stay in his saddle, but must be borne to the ground. And when Glaucé had so furnished the maiden with due equipment of war, then she took for herself such arms and armour as befitted a squire, and put them on. This done, they left the place by secret ways, unseen of any. Thus did it happen that Britomart came in guise of a knight into the company of Sir Guyon and the Red-Cross Knight.

Not long after this they parted from each other, for the Knight had an errand of his own, and Britomart was bent on the finding of Sir Artegall. Many miles did she ride, and through many lands did she travel, till at last she came to the shore of the sea. There she lighted from off her horse and bade Glaucé unlace her helmet, and sat down upon a rock to rest awhile and refresh herself with the breeze that blew from off the waves. And as she sat, she thought within herself: “Ah me, how like is love to this restless sea! How shall my frail bark escape where there are so many dangers, and no certain guide?” So she spake to herself, sighing the while; weep she would not, for tears, she thought, did not become a knight. But Glaucé comforted her, calling to her mind what Merlin had prophesied about the things to come. Nor were these words in vain; but there soon befell a thing which roused her more than many words. She spied a knight in shining armour riding towards her in all haste, with his spear in rest as one that had some hostile purpose. Quickly she mounted her horse, and bade Glaucé lace her helmet, and addressed herself without delay to battle. Now, by the time she had put her shield in place and made ready her spear, the knight was close at hand.

“Sir Knight,” said he, “know you that you travel on this road against my strict commands? I suffer not any to pass by this way. Others who have so trespassed have come by their death. Therefore I counsel you to go back while there is yet time.”

She made answer in few words: “Let them fly who have need for flight. You may frighten children with your words. As for passing by this way, I am prepared to do it, even without your leave. Verily, I will pass or die.” Scarcely had she spoken when the stranger knight rode at her with his spear in rest. He smote her full on the breast, and she bowed her head, so fierce was the stroke, till it well-nigh touched the crupper of her saddle. But her counter-stroke was deadlier by far. The spear-point passed through his shield and through his cuirass, and, glancing thence, pierced his left side. The power of the stroke bore him from the saddle, and laid him bleeding on the ground, where he lay wallowing in his blood. So fell the knight, Sir Marinell, upon the shore which he called his own. And Britomart rode on; and as she went she saw pearls and precious stones of every kind, and ingots of gold half buried in the sand. Much she wondered to see such riches, but she would not descend for a single hour. What were jewels or precious stones or gold to her, that they should hinder her in her quest?

The story of Sir Marinell, briefly told, is this. His mother was a daughter of Nereus, God of the Sea, and his father a mortal man. He was reared up in arms, and became a great and famous knight. And he had for his possession this same shore; a place in which Nature of her own will had set much riches, pearls and precious stones and the like, and to which, by the ordering of Nereus, great store of the treasure which the sea swallows up through shipwreck was brought, for his daughter made request of the same for her son. This coast, then, he most jealously guarded against all comers. And being, as has been said, valiant and strong and expert in arms, and also because he knew the place and was able to take a new-comer unawares, he seemed to be invincible. Many knights, seeking to pass along the coast, for, indeed, the fame of its treasures was spread abroad, were slain, and yet more, being vanquished in battle, for life’s sake, submitted themselves to him, and became vassals and servants to him. One hundred knights, men of name all of them, were so bound to his service. In the end, Sir Marinell, what with the multitude of his riches, and the pride of having so many knights of renown at his beck and call, became not a little puffed up, and his mother, knowing that the wise man had said of old, “Pride goeth before a fall,” would fain know how he might be kept from mischief. So she went to a certain god of the sea, Proteus by name, who had the gift of foretelling things to come. And Proteus said to her: “My daughter, keep this thy son from all womankind, for from a woman he shall have a deadly hurt.” And the mother, taking these words to be spoken of woman’s love, set her son’s mind against all such things, and did most carefully keep him from all company of women. And he, to do her pleasure, obeyed her in this matter, yet could not so escape his fate. And this fate was all the harder, because this knight was beloved of a fair and virtuous maiden, Florimell by name, whom he might have wedded much to his joy and profit. Of this same Florimell more shall be told hereafter.

Britomart, after having thus vanquished Sir Marinell, still went on her quest, and came at night to the castle of a certain Malbecco. To this same place there had also come, earlier by the space of an hour or so, two other knights, Sir Paridell and Sir Satyrane. It was this same Satyrane that helped the Lady Una in her wanderings when she was parted by evil chance from the Red-Cross Knight. To them Sir Paridell’s squire had said: “My lords, you will not find entertainment here. The master of this castle, Malbecco by name, is a mere churl, and hates all company, and this for two reasons: the first of these reasons is that his mind is wholly set on riches, and he hates all doings by which they may seem to be wasted; and the second is that he, being old and crabbed, is wedded to a very fair young wife, whom he would fain keep from the sight of all eyes but his own. Verily he keeps her as in prison.”

When Sir Paridell heard the squire’s story, he said: “Why do we suffer this old dotard to behave himself in this churlish fashion? ’Twere better to kill the villain and spoil his home.”

“Nay,” said Sir Satyrane, who was a loyal and true knight, and would fain bear himself honestly to all men; “we will first gently entreat this man to give us entertainment. And if he will not listen to gentle words, then will we threaten him; for some who heed not fair words will take account of foul. And if we accomplish nothing either by entreaties or by threats, then we will make our way into his dwelling by force, and deal with him as he deserves.”

“So be it,” said Sir Paridell, and coming to the gate he knocked. “Sir Porter,” he said, “two knights seek shelter and entertainment.”

Now the porter was Malbecco himself, for it was his custom to play the porter’s part. He answered: “All in this house, my friend, are now gone to their beds, and the keys have been taken to the master of the house, and he also is in his bed, nor is there anyone so bold that would venture to wake him from his sleep. I pray you, therefore, to be patient and to seek entertainment elsewhere.”

The two knights were not a little wroth at this fellow’s churlishness, but knew not what they should do, for he took no heed, neither of blandishments nor of threats. And while they parleyed with him, the sky was overcast, and there came so bitter a blast of wind and so fierce a storm of rain and hail that they were constrained to depart and seek shelter in a little hut that was near at hand, being a sty for pigs. While they were faring as best they could in this place, there came another knight to the castle gate. He also sought for entertainment and was denied, and he also, under compulsion from the storm, sought shelter in the hut. And when, the place being indeed already filled, he was not suffered to enter, he fell into a great rage.

“Nay,” said he, “this will I not suffer. Either I will lodge with you, or you shall be dislodged. Choose then whether of these two things ye will have.” The two knights scarce knew how they should answer him. They liked not to deny him lodging, and they liked not to yield to his boasting. But of the two Paridell was the less disposed to take the matter patiently.

“Who is this fellow,” said he, “who talks to me as though he were rating a dog in a kennel? Of a truth, if he is a dog of spirit, he would rather die than lie like a coward in a corner.” So saying, he issued forth, and came to blows with the stranger. And doubtless mischief had been done but that the good Satyrane made peace between them. This done, they agreed together to punish the lord of the castle for his churlishness. So they went back to the gate, and Paridell cried aloud: “Hark, Sir Porter, whoever you are, if you open not this gate, then we will burn this place and all that is therein with fire.”

When Malbecco heard this, perceiving that they were in earnest, he ran with all speed and called to them from the castle walls. “Bear with me, fair sirs,” he cried, “and pardon me, seeing that I am so ill-served. These loutish knaves of mine know not their duty, and fail to attend as they should upon strangers.” When they heard this, the knights consented to let the matter be, though they believed not a word of what the man had said. So they entered the castle. Being within the walls, they rid themselves of their armour, for they were fain to dry their garments at the fire. And lo! when the last come of the three took off his helmet, the hair, which was of golden hue, broke loose from its tie and fell down to her feet, like the sunbeams that fall from a cloud; and when she doffed her coat of mail and let down the pleated frock she had tucked up for convenience’ sake in riding, then it was plain to see that she was a woman, and indeed the very fairest of women; for in sooth this last come of the three knights was Britomart.