Long so they traveiled through wastefull wayes,
Where daungers dwelt, and perils most did wonne,
To hunt for glory and renowmed prayse:
Full many countreyes they did overronne,
From the uprising to the setting Sunne,
And many hard adventures did atchieve;
Of all the which they honour ever wonne,
Seeking the weake oppressed to relieve,

And to recover right for such as wrong did grieve.

At last, as through an open plaine they yode,
They spide a knight that towards pricked fayre;
And him beside an aged squire there rode,
That seemd to couch under his shield threesquare,
As if that age badd him that burden spare,
And yield it those that stouter could it wield:
He, them espying, gan himselfe prepare,
And on his arme addresse his goodly shield
That bore a lion passant in a golden field.

Which seeing, good sir Guyon deare besought
The prince, of grace, to let him ronne that turne.
He graunted: then the Faery quickly raught
His poynant speare, and sharply gan to spurne
His fomy steed, whose fiery feete did burne
The verdant gras as he thereon did tread;
Ne did the other backe his foote returne,
But fiercely forward came withouten dread,
And bent his dreadful speare against the others head.
They beene ymett, and both theyr points arriv'd;
But Guyon drove so furious and fell,

That seemd both shield and plate it would have riv'd;
Nathelesse it bore his foe not from his sell,
But made him stagger, as he were not well:
But Guyon selfe, ere well he was aware,
Nigh a speares length behind his crouper fell;
Yet in his fall so well himselfe he bare,

[spare.
That mischievous mischaunce his life and limbs did
Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke;
For never yet, sith warlike armes he bore
And shivering speare in bloody field first shooke,
He found himselfe dishonored so sore.
Ah! gentlest knight, that ever armor bore,
Let not thee grieve dismounted to have beene,
And brought to grownd, that never wast before;
For not thy fault, but secret powre unseene;
That speare enchaunted was which layd thee on the
greene!

But weenedst thou what wight thee overthrew,
Much greater griefe and shamefuller regrett
For thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew,
That of a single damzell thou wert mett
On equall plaine, and there so hard besett:
Even the famous Britomart it was,
Whom straunge adventure did from Britayne fett
To seeke her lover (love far sought alas!)
Whose image shee had seene in Venus looking-glas.

Full of disdainefull wrath, he fierce uprose
For to revenge that fowle reprochefull shame,
And snatching his bright sword began to close
With her on foot, and stoutly forward came;
Dye rather would he then endure that same.
Which when his palmer saw, he gan to feare
His toward perill, and untoward blame,
Which by that new rencounter he should reare;
For Death sate on the point of that enchaunted

speare:

And hasting towards him gan fayre perswade
Not to provoke misfortune, nor to weene
His speares default to mend with cruell blade;
For by his mightie science he had seene
The secrete vertue of that weapon keene,
That mortall puissaunce mote not withstond:
Nothing on Earth mote alwaies happy beene!
Great hazard were it, and adventure fond,
To loose long-gotten honour with one evili hond.

By such good meanes he him discounselled
From prosecuting his revenging rage:
And eke the prince like treaty handeled,
His wrathfull will with reason to aswage;
And laid the blame, not to his carriage,
But to his starting steed that swarv'd asyde,
And to the ill purveyaunce of his page,
That had his furnitures not firmely tyde:
So is his angry corage fayrly pacifyde.

Thus reconcilement was betweene them knitt,
Through goodly temperaunce and affection chaste;
And either vowd with all their power and witt
To let not others honour be defaste
Of friend or foe, whoever it embaste,
Ne armes to bear against the others syde:
In which accord the prince was also plaste,
And with that golden chaine of concord tyde:
So goodly all agreed, they forth yfere did ryder
O, goodly usage of those antique tymes,
In which the sword was servaunt unto right;
When not for malice and contentious crymes,
But all for prayse, and proofe of manly might,
The martiall brood accustomed to fight:
Then honour was the meed of victory,
And yet the vanquished had no despight:
Let later age that noble use envy,
Vyle rancor to avoid and cruel surquedry!

Long they thus traveiled in friendly wise,
Through countreyes waste, and eke well edifyde,
Seeking adventures hard, to exercise
Their puissaunce, whylome full dernly tryde:
At length they came into a forest wyde,
Whose hideous horror and sad trembling sownd
Full griesly seemd: therein they long did ryde,
Yet tract of living creature none they fownd,
Save beares, lyons, and buls, which romed them
arownd.

All suddenly out of the thickest brush,
Upon a milk-white palfrey all alone,
A goodly lady did foreby them rush,
Whose face did seeme as cleare as christall stone,
And eke, through feare, as white as whales bone:
Her garments all were wrought of beaten gold,
And all her steed with tinsell trappings shone,
Which fledd so fast that nothing mote him hold,
And scarse them leasure gave her passing to behold.

Still as she fledd her eye she backward threw,
As fearing evill that poursewd her fast;
And her faire yellow locks behind her flew,
Loosely disperst with puff of every blast:
All as a blazing starre doth farre outcast
His hearie beames, and flaming lockes diepredd,
At sight whereof the people stand aghast;
But the sage wisard telles, as he has redd,
That it jmpórtunes death and dolefull drery hedd.

So as they gazed after her awhyle,
Lo! where a griesly foster forth did rush,
Breathing out beastly lust her to defyle:
His tyreling jade he fiersly forth did push
Through thicke and thin, both over banck and bush,
In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke,
That from his gory sydes the blood did gush:
Large were his limbes, and terrible his looke,
And in his clownish hand a sharp bore-speare

shooke.

Which outrage when those geutle knights did see,
Full of great envy and fell gealosy

They stayd not to avise who first should bee,
But all spurd after, fast as they mote fly,
To reskew her from shamefull villany.
The prince and Guyon equally bylive
Herse fe pursewd, in hope to win thereby
Most goodly meede, the fairest dame alive:
But after the foule foster Timias did strive.

The whiles faire Britomart, whose constant mind
Would not so lightly follow beauties chace,
Ne reckt of ladies love, did stay behynd;
And them awayted there a certaine space,
To weet if they would turne backe to that place:
But, when she saw them gone, she forward went,
As lay her journey, through that perious pace,
With stedfast corage and stout hardiment;
Ne evil thing she feard, ne evill thing she ment.

At last, as nigh out of the wood she came,
A stately castle far away she spyde,
To which her steps directly she did frame.
That castle was most goodly edifyde,
And plaste for pleasure nigh that forrest syde:
But faire before the gate a spatious playne,
M..ntled with grecne, itselfe did spredden wyde,
On which she saw six kaights, that did darrayne
Fiers battaill against one with cruell might and
mayne.

Mainely they all attonce upon him laid,
And sore beset on every side arownd,
That nigh he breathlesse grew, yet nought dismaid,
Ne ever to them yielded foot of grownd,
All had he lost much blood through many a wownd;
But stoutly dealt his blowes, and every way,
To which ne turned in his wrathfull stownd,
Made them recoile, and fly from dredd decay,
That none of all the six before him durst assay:

Like dastard curres, that, having at a bay
The salvage beast embost in wearie chace,
Dare not adventure on the stubborne pray,
Ne byte before, but rome from place to place
To get a snatch when turned is his face.
In such distresse and doubtfull ieopardy
When Britomart him saw, she ran apace
Unto his reskew, and with earnest cry
Badd those same sixe forbeare that single enimy.

But to her cry they list not lenden eare,
Ne ought the more their mightie strokes surceasse;
But, gathering him rownd about more neare,
Their direfull rancour rather did encreasse;
Till that she rushing through the thickest preasse
Perforce disparted their compacted gyre,
And soone compeld to hearken unto peace:
Tho gan she myldly of them to inquyre

The cause of their dissention and outrageous yre.

"Certes," said she, "then beene ye sixe to blame,
To weene your wrong by force to justify:
For knight to leave his lady were great shame
That faithfull is; and better were to dy.
All losse is lesse, and lesse the infamy,
Then losse of love to him that loves but one:
Ne may Love be compeld by maistery;

For, soone as maistery comes, sweet Love anone
Taketh his nimble winges, and soone away is gone."

Then spake one of those six; "There dwelleth here
Within this castle-wall a lady fayre,
Whose soveraine beautie hath no living pere;
Thereto so bounteous and so debonayre,
That never any mete with her compayre:
She hath ordaind this law, which we approve,
That every knight which doth this way repayre,
In case he have no lady nor no love,
Shall doe unto her service, never to remove :

"Therefore aread, sir, if thou have a love.” "Love have I sure," quoth she, “but lady none; Yet will I not fro mine owne love remove, But wreake your wronges wrought to this knight Ne to your lady will I service done, [alone, She mightily aventred towards one, And prove his cause." With that, her mortall speare

And downe him smot ere well aware he weare; Then to the next she rode, and downe the next did beare.

Ne did she stay till three on ground she layd,
That none of them himselfe could reare againe :
The fourth was by that other knight dismayd,
All were he wearie of his former paine;
That now there do but two of six remaine;
Which two did yield before she did them smight.
"Ah!" said she then, "now may ye all see plaine,
That Truth is strong, and trew Love most of might,
That for his trusty servaunts doth so strongly fight."

"Too well we see," saide they," and prove too well
Our faulty weakenes, and your matchlesse might:
Forthy, faire sir, yours be the damozell,
Which by her owne law to your lot doth light,
And we your liegemen faith unto you plight."
So underneath her feet their swords they mard,
And, after, her besought, well as they might,
To enter in and reape the dew reward:
She granted; and then in they all together far'd.

The first of them by name Gardantè hight,
A iolly person, and of comely vew;
The second was Parlantè, a bold knight;
And next to him locantè did ensew;
Basciante did himselfe most courteous shew;
But fierce Bacchantè seemd too fell and keene;
And yett in armes Noctantè greater grew:
All were faire knights, and goodly well beseene;
But to faire Britomart they all but shadowes beene.

For shee was full of amiable grace
And manly terror mixed therewithall;
That as the one stird up affections bace,
So th' other did mens rash desires apall,
And hold them backe that would in error fall:
As hee that hath espide a vermeill rose,

To which sharp thornes and breres the way forstall,
Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose,
But, wishing it far off, his ydle wish doth lose.

Whom when the lady saw so faire a wight,
All ignorant of her contráry sex,
(For shee her weend a fresh and lusty knight)
Shee greatly gan enamoured to wex,
And with vaine thoughts her falsed fancy vex:
Her fickle hart conceived hasty fyre,
Like sparkes of fire which fall in sclender flex,
That shortly brent into extreme desyre,
And ransackt all her veines with passion entyre.

Eftsoones sbee grew to great impatience,
And into termes of open outrage brust,
That plaine discovered her incontinence;
Ne reckt shee who her meaning did mistrust;
For she was given all to fleshly lust,
And poured forth in sensuall delight,
That all regard of shame she had discust,
And meet respect of honor put to flight:

So, when they slaked had the fervent heat
Of appetite with meates of every sort,
The lady did faire Britomart entreat
Her to disarme, and with delightfull sport
To loose her warlike limbs and strong effort:
But when shee mote not thereunto be wonne,
(For shee her sexe under that siraunge purpórt
Did use to hide, and plaine apparaunce shonne)
In playner wise to tell her grievaunce she begonne;

And all attonce discovered her desire

With sighes, and sobs, and plaints, and piteous griefe,
The outward sparkes of her in-burning fire:
Which spent in vaine, at last she told her briefe,
That, but if she did lend her short reliefe
And doe her comfort, she mote algates dye.
But the chaste damzell, that had never priefs
Of such malengine and fine forgerye,
Did easely beleeve her strong extremitye.

Full easy was for her to have beliefe,
Who by self-feeling of her feeble sexe,
And by long triall of the inward griefe
Wherewith imperious love her hart did vexe,
Could judge what paines doe loving harts perplexe.
Who means no guile, be guiled soonest shall,
And to faire semblaunce doth light faith annexe:
The bird, that knowes not the false fowlers call,
Into his hidden nett full easely doth fall.

Forthy she would not in discourteise wise
Scorne the faire offer of good will profest;
For great rebuke it is love to despise,
Or rudely sdeigne a gentle harts request;
But with faire countenaunce, as beseemed best,
Her entertaynd; nath'lesse shee inly deemd
Her love too light, to wooe a wandring guest;
Which she misconstruing, thereby esteemd [steemd,

Now whenas all the world in silence deepe
Yshrowded was, and every mortall wight
Was drowned in the depth of deadly sleepe,
Faire Malecasta, whose engrieved spright
Could find no rest in such perplexed plight,
Lightly arose out of her wearie bed,
And, under the blacke vele of guilty night,
Her with a scarlott mantle covered

That was with gold and ermines faire enveloped.

Then panting softe, and trembling every ioynt,
Her fearfall feete towards the bowre she mov'd,
Where she for secret purpose did appoynt
To lodge the warlike maide, unwisely loov'd;
And, to her bed approching, first she proov'd
Whether she slept or wakte: with her softe hand
She softely felt if any member moov'd,
And lent her wary eare to understand

If any puffe of breath or signe of sence shee fond.

Which whenas none she fond, with easy shifte,
For feare least her unwares she should abrayd,
Th' embroder'd quilt she lightly up did lifte,
And by her side herselfe she softly layd,
Of every finest fingers touch affrayd;
Ne any noise she made, ne word she spake,
But inly sighd. At last the royall mayd
Out of her quiet slomber did awake,

And chaungd her weary side the better ease to take.

Where feeling one close couched by her side,
She lightly lept out of her filed bedd,
And to her weapon ran, in minde to gride
The loathed leachour: but the dame, halfe dedd
Through suddeine feare and ghastly drerihedd
Did shrieke alowd, that through the hous it rong,
And the whole family therewith adredd
Rashly out of their rouzed couches sprong,
And to the troubled chamber all in armes did throng.

And those sixe knightes, that ladies champions,
And eke the Redcrosse knight ran to the stownd,
Halfe armd and halfe unarmd, with them attons:
Where when confusedly they came, they fownd
Their lady lying on the sencelesse grownd:
On th' other side they saw the warlike mayd
Al in her snow-white smocke, with locks unbownd,
Threatning the point of her avenging blade;
That with so troublous terror they were all dismayd.

About their ladye first they flockt arownd;
Whom having laid in comfortable couch,
Shortly they reard out of her frosen swownd;
And afterwardes they gan with fowle reproch
To stirre up strife, and troublous contecke broch:
But, by ensample of the last dayes losse,
None of them rashly durst to her approch,
Ne in so glorious spoile themselves embosse:
Her succourd eke the champion of the bloody crosse.

But one of those sixe knights, Gardantè hight,
Drew out a deadly bow and arrow keene,
Which forth he sent with felonous despight
And fell intent against the virgin sheene:
The mortall steele stayd not till it was seene
To gore her side; yet was the wound not deepe,
But lightly rased her soft silken skin,

That drops of purple blood thereout did weepe, Which did her lilly smock with staines of vermeil steep.

Wherewith enrag'd she fiercely at them flew,
And with her flaming sword about her layd,
That none of them foule mischiefe could eschew,
But with her dreadfull strokes were all dismayd:
Here, there, and every where, about her swayd
Her wrathfull steele, that none mote it abyde;
And eke the Redcrosse knight gave her good ayd,
Ay ioyning foot to foot, and syde to syde; [fyde.
That in short space their foes they have quite terri-

Tho, whenas all were put to shamefull flight,
The noble Britomartis her arayd,
And her bright armes about her body dight:
For nothing would she lenger there be stayd,
Where so loose life, and so ungentle trade,
Was usd of knightes and ladies seeming gent:
So, earely, ere the grosse Earthes gryesy shade
Was all disperst out of the firmament, [went.
They tooke their steeds, and forth upon their iourney

CANTO II.

The Redcrosse knight to Britomart
Describeth Artegall:

The wondrous myrrhour, by which she

In love with him did fall.

HERE have I cause in men iust blame to find,
That in their proper praise too partiall bee,
And not indifferent to woman kind,

To whom no share in armes and chevalree
They doe impart, ne maken memoree
Of their brave gestes and prowesse martiall:
Scarse do they spare to one, or two, or three,
Rowme in their writtes; yet the same writing small
Does all their deedes deface, and dims their glo-
ries all.

But by record of antique times I finde
That wemen wont in warres to beare most sway,
And to all great exploites themselves inclin'd,
Of which they still the girlond bore away;
Till envious men, fearing their rules decay,
Gan coyne streight lawes to curb their liberty:
Yet, sith they warlike armes have laide away,
They have exceld in artes and pollicy,
That now we foolish men that prayse gin eke t'envy.

Of warlike puissaunce in ages spent,

Be thon, faire Britomart, whose prayse I wryte;
But of all wisedom bee thou precedent,

O soveraine queene, whose prayse I would endyte,
Endite I would as dewtie doth excyte;
But ah! my rymes too rude and rugged arre,
When in so high an obiect they doe lyte,
And, striving fit to make, I feare, doc marre:
Thyselfe thy prayses tell, and make them knowen
farre.

She, traveiling with Guyon, by the way
Of sondry thinges faire purpose gan to find,
T'abridg their journey long and fingring day:
Mongst which it fell into that Fairies mind
To aske this Briton maid, what uncouth wind
Brought her into those partes, and what inquest
Made her dissemble her disgused kind:
Faire lady she him seemd like lady drest,
But fairest knight alive when armed was her brest.