CHAPTER III

THE FORTUNES OF UNA

While the Red-Cross Knight was thus faring, the Lady Una was not a little troubled that she should have been so left by her champion. Never did she cease to search for him, wandering the while over plain, and forest, and mountain, and not one whit afraid, however desolate they were.

On a certain day she lighted off the ass, on which she was wont to ride, and laid herself down to rest in a solitary place, under the shadow of a tree; she took the covering from her head, and laid aside her black cloak; her faithful beast grazed hard by, for there was much grass in the place. As she lay, there rushed out of the wood with which the meadow was circled about a furious lion. Wild he was with hunger, and was hunting for prey. And when he saw the royal maid, he ran greedily at her with open mouth, as if he would have devoured her; but when he came near, and saw what manner of maid she was, all his rage departed from him. He kissed her weary feet, and licked with his tongue her lily hands, crouching down before her as if to show himself her servant. At the first sight of the beast the Lady Una was not a little afraid, but when she saw how gently he bore himself, she sighed and said: “See now, how this lion, who is the king of the forest, forgets his hunger and his rage in pity of my sad state, while he who was my champion leaves me to wander alone.” So she spake till she could speak no more for very tears, and the lion meanwhile stood looking upon her. Then—for the lady was of a brave spirit—she shut up her sorrows in her heart, and mounted on her steed again, and set out once more upon her quest. It was a long and weary way which she went, through divers places, where there were no inhabitants, and still the lion went with her, ready to guard her against all dangers. While she slept, he watched over her, and when she awaked he awaited her command, watching her eyes so that he might discern her pleasure.

After long journeying, in which they saw no sign of the presence of man, they came to a place which, from the wearing of the grass, seemed to be trodden by human feet. And in no long time the lady espied a woman, who was following the path with slow steps, and carrying on her head a pitcher of water. The lady cried to her, “Tell me now, my friend, whether there may be any dwelling near to hand, where I may rest awhile?” But the woman answered her never a word, seeming as if she could neither understand nor speak. But when, turning her eyes, she saw the lion by the lady’s side, she threw down her pitcher, and fled as fast as her feet could carry her. Not once did she look behind her, but fled as if for her life till she came to the house where she dwelt with her mother, a blind woman. Not a word did she say, but her fear was plain to see, and the old woman perceived that there was some great danger at hand, so when they two had shut the door they hid themselves in the darkest corner of the cottage.

In a short space of time came Una and her lion to the door. Thereat the lady knocked, but when no one answered, and the time was passing, the lion in his impatience rent the wicket-gate with his claws and let her in. No further hurt did he, and when Una had with much gentle speech allayed the women’s fear, they laid themselves down to sleep.

But when the night was far spent, there came one to the door demanding entrance, and when this was not speedily given him, using many oaths and curses. He was a sturdy thief, by name Kirkrapine, that is to say, Robber of Churches, and this indeed was his trade. He was wont to steal away the ornaments of churches, and to strip off from the images of the saints the vestments with which they were clad, and to purloin the robes of the priests, and to break open the boxes in which were put the alms for the poor. No small share of the plunder did he bring to the house where Una lay that night, for he was the lover of the old woman’s daughter, and he could never give her enough of gold and jewels and precious things. But whether the old woman knew of the matter none can tell, though it might have seemed that such doings were not to her mind, seeing that she told her beads and prayed both by day and by night; nine hundred Paternosters would she say daily, and of Ave Marias twice as many. Thrice in the week, also, did she sit in ashes; thrice three times she fasted from all food and drink, and she wore sackcloth nearest to her skin.

Now when this same Kirkrapine found that, for all his cursing, he could not win an entrance, for, indeed, though the women heard him, they were hindered from rising by fear of the lion, he let fly furiously at the door and brake it down, and would have entered. But as he was about to cross the threshold, the beast, thinking that his lady was in danger, sprang at him, and brought him to the ground, and so tore him that he died, which, having done, the lion came back to his place by the lady’s side, and watched her as before.

When the day broke, the Lady Una rose from her place, and went forth from the cottage, and journeyed onwards still seeking the Knight, and the lion went with her. The old woman also and her daughter, so soon as the house was clear of its guests, rose up. But when they found Kirkrapine lying dead before the door, great was their grief and greater still their anger.

“This,” they cried, “the savage beast has done,” and they followed with all the speed they might use, and so overtook her. Harm her they might not, for they feared the lion, and when they had cursed her loud and long they turned back to go to their own house.

As they went they met a knight, fully clad in armour. But yet he was no knight but only the wizard Archimage, who had taken upon himself, by help of his wicked arts, the semblance of the Red-Cross Knight. The false knight asked them whether they had seen a lady journeying alone.

“Yea,” the old woman answered, “such I have seen; an evil woman she is, and much harm hath she wrought.” And she told a piteous tale of the things which she had suffered. This done, she showed him the way by which he must go, if he would overtake the lady, and he, having thanked her with due courtesy, rode on. Nor was it long before he overtook the Lady Una, for she, having but an ass for her steed, travelled slowly. When she saw him, and noted the Red Cross on his shield and the like emblem on his breast, she said to herself: “Now God be thanked, I see my true champion again,” and she rode to meet him, and greeted him with friendly words, saying: “Where have you been these weary days, my lord? I have fared ill without your company,” and she told him of all the troubles and dangers through which she had passed.

On the other hand, the false knight spoke her fair: “For this cause I left you, dearest lady, that I might seek an adventure of which Archimage told me, and how I might deal with a felon who had done great harm to many gallant knights. And, indeed, I did deal with him, so that he shall hurt such knights no more. I pray you, fair lady, to pardon me that I left you awhile, even for such cause, and to take me once more as your faithful servant and champion.”

So the two rode on together. They had not travelled many miles when they saw coming to them, riding at the full speed of his horse a knight fully armed. When he came near they saw that he was a man of very fierce aspect, and that he carried on his shield the name _Sansloy_. Fierce as he was of look, he grew fiercer yet when he perceived the false knight’s shield, how it had the badge of the Red Cross. Not a word did he speak, but he laid his spear in rest and rode fiercely forward.

Sorely dismayed was Archimage, and loath to meet the stranger in battle, for, indeed, he was not used to bearing arms. Yet could he not hold back for very shame. The Lady Una also looked at him that he should bear himself bravely. But it fared ill with him, and, indeed, it would have fared worse but that his steed, being no less timorous than himself, held back in the onset, so that the shock of their meeting was the less fierce. Nevertheless, he was thrown to the ground, where he lay helpless and without defence.

The strange knight leapt lightly from his horse, and made as though he would have slain his adversary. “Ha!” he cried, “so he that slew the brave knight Sansfoy, my brother, has come by his deserts. Sansfoy he slew, and by Sansloy he shall be slain!”

Then he began to unlace the man’s helmet as he lay upon the ground, but the Lady Una cried, “Oh, Sir Knight, hold your hand; is it not enough that you have vanquished him? He lies there at your mercy. Therefore have mercy upon him. Verily there is not in the whole world a truer knight than he.” But the stranger had no mind to hold his hand, for, indeed, he had no compassion within his heart. But when he had ended the unlacing of the helmet, and was now ready to strike, he saw the hoary head and wrinkled face of Archimage, and cried: “What is this that I see, Archimage, luckless sire? By what ill-fortune have you come across me in this fashion? Is the fault with me or with you, that I should have dealt with a friend as though he were an enemy?”

So he spake, but not a word did the wizard answer. He lay in a swoon, and the shadow of death was on his face. And now the Lady Una had come and was looking into the old man’s face. Sore dismayed she was and sore vexed; for he whom she had taken for her champion was a deceiver; nor could she divine how she might escape from the hand of this paynim knight. And now she had to bear yet another grief. For when Sansloy laid a rude hand upon her and bade her descend from her steed, and caught away her veil that he might look upon her face, the lion, not enduring to see his mistress so handled and treated, sprang at the knight, but alas! what was he to withstand a knight clad in armour of proof, with spear and sword? Soon did Sansloy thrust him through with the iron point, so that the faithful beast fell dead upon the ground, and the lady was left helpless and without defence.