He comming neare gan gently her falute
With curteous words, in the most comely wize;
Who though defirous rather to rest mute,
Then termes to entertaine of common guize,
Yet rather then the kindneffe would despize,
She would herselfe displease, fo him requite.
Then gan the other further to devize
Of things abrode, as next to hand did light,
And many things demaund, to which the answer'd light:
XXI.
For little luft had she to talke of ought,
Or ought to heare that mote delightfull bee;
Her minde was whole poffeffed of one thought,
That gave none other place. which when as hee
By outward fignes (as well he might) did fee,
He lift no lenger to use lothfull fpeach,
But her befought to take it well in gree,
Sith fhady dampe had dimd the heavens reach,
To lodge with him that night, unles good caufe empeach.
XXII.
The championeffe now seeing night at dore
Was glad to yeeld unto his good request;
And with him went without gaine-faying more.
Not farre away, but little wide by west,
His dwelling was, to which he him addreft;
Where foone arriving they received were
In feemely wife, as them beseemed beft;
For he their hoft them goodly well did cheare,
And talk't of pleafant things the night away to weare.
XXIII,
Thus paffing th'evening well, till time of reft,
Then Britomart unto a bowre was brought;
Where groomes awayted her to have undreft:
But she ne would undreffed be for ought,
Ne doffe her armes, though he her much befought:
For she had vow'd, fhe fayd, not to forgo
Those warlike weedes, till the revenge had wrought
Of a late wrong uppon a mortall foe
Which she would fure performe betide her wele or wo.
Which when her hoft perceiv'd, right difcontent
In minde he grew, for feare leaft by that art
He should his purpose miffe, which close he ment:
Yet taking leave of her he did depart:
There all that night remained Britomart,
Restleffe, recomfortleffe, with heart deepe-grieved,
Not fuffering the least twinckling fleepe to start
Into her eye, which th' heart mote have relieved;
But if the least appear'd, her eyes the ftreight reprieved.
Ye guilty eyes, fayd fhe, the which with guyle
My heart at first betrayd, will ye betray
My life now too, for which a little whyle
Ye will not watch? falfe watches, wellaway
I wote when ye did watch both night and day
Unto your loffe; and now needes will ye fleepe?
Now ye have made my heart to wake alway,
Now will ye fleepe? ab! wake, and rather weepe
To thinke of your nights want, that should yee waking keepe.
XXVI.
Thus did she watch, and weare the weary night
In waylfull plaints, that none was to appease;
Now walking foft, now fitting ftill upright,
As fundry chaunge her feemed best to ease.
Ne leffe did Talus fuffer fleepe to feaze
His eye-lids fad, but watcht continually,
Lying without her dore in great disease;
Like to a spaniell wayting carefully
Leaft any should betray his lady treacherously.
What time the native belman of the night,
The bird that warned Peter of his fall,
First rings his filver bell t'each fleepy wight,
That should their mindes up to devotion call,
She heard a wondrous noife below the hall:
All fodainely the bed, where the should lie,
By a falfe trap was let adowne to fall
Into a lower roome, and by and by
The loft was rayfd againe, that no man could it fpie.
VOL. II.
With fight whereof she was difmayd right fore,
Perceiving well the treason which was ment:
Yet ftirred not at all for doubt of more,
But kept her place with courage confident,
Wayting what would enfue of that event..
It was not long before fhe heard the found
Of armed men comming with close intent
Towards her chamber; at which dreadfull stound
She quickly caught her sword, and shield about her bound.
XXIX.
With that there came unto her chamber dore
Two knights all armed ready for to fight;
And after them full
other more,
A raskall rout, with weapons rudely dight:
Whom foone as Talus fpide by glims of night,
He started up, there where on ground he lay,
And in his hand his thresher ready keight:
They seeing that let drive at him streightway,
And round about him preace in riotous aray.
XXX.
But foone as he began to lay about
With his rude yron flaile, they gan to flie,
Both armed knights and eke unarmed rout:
Yet T'alus after them apace did plie,
Wherever in the darke he could them spie;
That here and there like scattred sheepe they lay.
Then backe returning where his dame did lie,
He to her told the story of that fray,
And all that treason there intended did bewray.
Wherewith though wondrous wroth, and inly burning
To be avenged for fo fowle a deede,
Yet being forft t'abide the daies returning,
She there remain'd; but with right wary heede,
Leaft any more fuch practise fhould proceede.
Now mote ye know (that which to Britomart
Unknowen was) whence all this did proceede;
And for what cause fo great mischievous fmart
Was ment to her that never evill ment in hart.
The goodman of this house was Dolon hight;
A man of fubtill wit and wicked minde,
That whilome in his youth had bene a knight,
And armes had borne, but little good could finde,
And much leffe honour by that warlike kinde
Of life: for he was nothing valorous,
But with flie fhiftes and wiles did underminde
All noble knights, which were adventurous,
And many brought to fhame by treafon treacherous.
XXXIII.
He had three fonnes, all three like fathers fonnes,
Like treacherous, like full of fraud and guile,
Of all that on this earthly compasse wonnes:
The eldest of the which was flaine erewhile
By Artegall, through his owne guilty wile;
His name was Guizor; whofe untimely fate
For to avenge, full many treasons vile
His father Dolon had deviz'd of late
With these his wicked fons, and fhewd his cankred hate.
For fure he weend that this his present guest
Was Artegall by many tokens plaine;
But chiefly by that yron page he gheft,
Which still was wont with Artegall remaine ;
And therefore ment him furely to have flaine:
But by Gods grace, and her good heedineffe,
She was preserved from that traytrous traine.
Thus fhe all night wore out in watchfulneffe,
Ne fuffred slothfull fleepe her eyelids to oppreffe.
XXXV.
The morrow next, fo foone as dawning houre
Discovered had the light to living eye,
She forth yffew'd out of her loathed bowre,
With full intent t'avenge that villany
On that vilde man and all his family;
And comming down to feeke them where they wond,
Nor fire, nor fonnes, nor any could she spie;
Each rowme she fought, but them all empty fond :
They all were fled for feare; but whether, nether kond.
She faw it vaine to make there lenger stay,
But tooke her steede; and thereon mounting light
Gan her addreffe unto her former way.
She had not rid the mountenance of a flight,
But that she saw there prefent in her fight
Those two false brethren on that perillous bridge,
On which Pollente with Artegall did fight.
Streight was the paffage like a ploughed ridge,
That if two met, the one mote needes fall o'er the lidge.
XXXVII.
There they did thinke themselves on her to wreake:
Who as the nigh unto them drew, the one
These vile reproches gan unto her speake;
Thou recreant false traytor, that with lone
Of armes haft knighthood flolne, yet knight art none,
No more fhall now the darkenesse of the night
Defend thee from the vengeance of thy fone;
But with thy bloud thou shalt appease the Spright
Of Guizor by thee flaine and murdred by thy flight.
XXXVIII.
Strange were the words in Britomartis eare;
Yet ftayd fhe not for them, but forward fared,
Till to the perillous bridge fhe came; and there
Talus defir'd that he might have prepared
The way to her, and thofe two lofels fcared:
But she thereat was wroth, that for defpight
The glauncing fparkles through her bever glared,
And from her eies did flash out fiery light,
Like coles, that through a filver cenfer fparkle bright.
XXXIX.
She stayd not to advise which way to take;
But putting fpurres unto her fiery beast
Thorough the midft of them the way did make.
The one of them, which most her wrath increast,
Uppon her speare fhe bore before her breast,
Till to the bridges further end fhe past;
Where falling downe his challenge he releaft:
The other over fide the bridge the caft
Into the river, where he drunke his deadly last.
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