He, though affiyde unto a former love,
To whom his faith he firmely ment to hold,
Yet seeing not how thence he mote remove,
But by that meanes which fortune did unfold,
Her graunted love, but with affection cold,
To win her grace his libertie to get:
Yet she him still detaines in captive hold,
Fearing, least if she should him freely set,

He would her shortly leave, and former love forget.

"Yet so much favour she to him hath hight
Above the rest, that he sometimes may space
And walke about her gardens of delight,
Having a keeper still with him in place;
Which keeper is this dwarfe, her dearling base,
To whom the keyes of every prison dore
By her committed be, of speciall grace,
And at his will may whom he list restore,
And, whom he list, reserve to be afflicted more.

“Whereof, when tydings came unto mine eare,
Full inly sorie, for the fervent zeale
Which I to him as to my soule did beare,
I thether went; where I did long conceale
Myselfe, till that the dwarfe did me reveale,
And told his dame her squire of low degree
Did secretly out of her prison steale;
For me he did mistake that squire to bee;
For never two so like did living creature see.

"Then was I taken and before her brought;
Who, through the likenesse of my outward hew,
Being likewise beguiled in her thought,
Gan blame me much for being so untrew
To seeke by flight her fellowship t' eschew,
That lov'd me deare, as dearest thing alive.
Thence she commaunded me to prison new:
Whereof I glad did not gaine-say nor strive,
But suffred that same dwarfe me to her dongeon
drive.

"There did I finde mine onely faithfull frend
In heavy plight and sad perplexitie:
Whereof I sorie, yet myselfe did bend
Him to recomfort with my companie;

But him the more agreev'd I found thereby;
For all his joy, he said, in that distresse
Was mine and his Emylias libertie.
Emylia well he lov'd, as I mote ghesse;
Yet greater love to me then her he did professe.

"But I with better reason him aviz'd,
And shew'd him how, through error and misthought
Of our like persons eath to be disguiz'd,
Or his exchange or freedom might be wrought,
Whereto full loth was he, ne would for ought
Consent that I, who stood all fearelesse free,
Should wilfully be into thraldome brought,
Till fortune did perforce it so decree :
Yet, over-ruld at last, he did to me agree,

"Which I, that was not bent to former love
As was my friend that had her long refus'd,
Did well accept, as well it did behove,
And to the present neede it wisely usd.
My former hardnesse first I faire excusd;
And, after, promist large amends to make.
With such smooth termes her error I abusd
To my friends good more then for mine owne sake,
For whose sole libertie I love and life did stake.

"Thenceforth I found more favour at her hand;
That to her dwarfe, which had me in his charge,
She bad to lighten my too heavie band,
And graunt more scope to me to walke at large.
So on a day, as by the flowrie marge

Of a fresh streame I with that Elfe did play,
Finding no meanes how I might us enlarge,
But if that dwarfe I could with me convay,

I lightly snatcht him up and with me bore away.

"Thereat he shriekt aloud, that with his cry
The tyrant selfe came forth with yelling bray,
And me pursew'd; but nathëmore would I
Forgoe the purchase of my gotten pray,
But have perforce him hether brought away."
Thus as they talked, loe! where nigh at hand
Those ladies two, yet doubtfull through dismay,
In presence came, desirous t' understand
Tydings of all which there had hapned on the land.

Where soone as sad Æmylia did espie
Her captive lovers friend, young Placidas;
All mindlesse of her wonted modestie
She to him ran, and, him with streight embras
Enfolding, said; "And lives yet Amyas?"
"He lives," quoth he, " and his Emylia loves."
"Then lesse," said she, "by all the woe I pas,
With which my weaker patience fortune proves;
But what mishap thus long him fro myselfe removes?"

Then gan he all this storie to renew,
And tell the course of his captivitie;
That her deare hart full deepley made to rew
And sigh full sore, to heare the miserie
In which so long he mercilesse did lie.
Then, after many teares and sorrowes spent,
She deare besought the prince of remedie;
Who thereto did with readie will consent,
And well perform'd; as shall appeare by his event.

CANTO IX.

The squire of low degree, releast,
Pæana takes to wife:
Britomart fightes with many knights;
Prince Arthur stints their strife.

HARD is the doubt, and difficult to deeme,
When all three kinds of love together meet
And doe dispart the hart with powre extreme,
Whether shall weigh the balance downe; to weet,
The deare affection unto kindred sweet,

Or raging fire of love to womankind,

Or zeale of friends combynd with vertues meet.
But of them all the band of vertuous mind,
Me seemes, the gentle hart should most assured
bind,

For naturall affection soone doth cesse,
And quenched is with Cupids greater flame;
But faithfull friendship doth them both suppresse,
And them with maystring discipline doth tame,
Through thoughts aspyring to eternall fame.
For as the soule doth rule the earthly masse,
And all the service of the bodie frame;
So love of soule doth love of bodie passe, [brasse.
No lesse then perfect gold surmounts the meanest

All which who list by tryall to assay, Shall in this storie find approved plaine;

Whom soone as faire Æmylia beheld
And Placidas, they both unto him ran,
And him embracing fast betwixt them held,
Striving to comfort him all that they can,
And kissing oft his visage pale and wan:
That faire Pæana, them beholding both,
Gan both envy, and bitterly to ban;
Through iealous passion weeping inly wroth, [loth.
To see the sight perforce that both her eyes were

But when awhile they had together beene, And diversly conferred of their case,

Now, after that prince Arthur graunted had
To yeeld strong succour to that gentle swayne,
Who now long time had lyen in prison sad;
He gan advise how best he mote darrayne
That enterprize, for greatest glories gayne.
That headlesse tyrants tronke he reard from ground,
And, having ympt the head to it agayne,
Upon his usuall beast it firmely bound,
And made it so to ride as it alive was found.

Then did he take that chaced squire, and layd
Before the ryder, as he captive were,
And made his dwarfe, though with unwilling ayd,
To guide the beast that did his maister beare,
Till to his castle they approched neare;
Whom when the watch, that kept continuall ward,
Saw comming home, all voide of doubtfull feare
He, running downe, the gate to him unbard;
Whom straight the prince ensuing in together far'd.

There did he find in her delitious boure
The faire Pæana playing on a rote,
Complayning of her cruell paramoure,
And singing all her sorrow to the note,
As she had learned readily by rote;
That with the sweetnesse of her rare delight
The prince half rapt began on her to dote;
Till, better him bethinking of the right,
He her unwares attacht, and captive held by might.
Whence being forth produe'd, when she perceived
Her owne deare sire, she cald to him for aide:
But when of him no aunswere she received,
But saw him sencelesse by the squire upstaide,
She weened well that then she was betraide :
Then gan she loudly cry, and weepe, and waile,
And that same squire of treason to upbraide:
But all in vaine; her plaints might not prevaile;
Ne none there was to reskue her, ne none to baile.

Then tooke he that same dwarfe, and him compeld
To open unto him the prison dore,

And forth to bring those thrals which there he held.
Thence forth were brought to him above a score
Of knights and squires to him unknowne afore:
All which he did from bitter bondage free,
And unto former liberty restore.
Amongst the rest that squire of low degree
Came forth full weake and wan, not like himselfe
to bee.

Asunder, yet not ever in one place,

Began to doubt, when she then saw embrace,
Which was the captive squire she lov'd so deare,
Deceived through great likenesse of their face:
For they so like in person did appeare,
That she uneath discerned whether whether weare.

And eke the prince whenas he them avized,
Their like resemblaunce much admired there,
And mazd how Nature had so well disguized
Her worke, and counterfet herselfe so nere,
As if that by one patterne seene somewhere
She had them made a paragone to be;
Or whether it through skill or errour were.
Thus gazing long at them much wondred he;
So did the other knights and squires which him did

see.

Then gan they ransacke that same castle strong,
In which he found great store of hoorded threasure,
The which that tyrant gathered had by wrong
And tortious powre, without respect or measure.
Upon all which the Briton prince made seasure,
And afterwards continu'd there a while
To rest himselfe, and solace in soft pleasure
Those weaker ladies after weary toile;
To whom he did divide part of his purchast spoile.

And, for more joy, that captive lady faire,
The faire Paana, he enlarged free,

And by the rest did set in sumptuous chaire
To feast and frollicke; nathëmore would she
Shew gladsome countenaunce nor pleasaunt glee;
But grieved was for losse both of her sire,
And eke of lordship with both land and fee;
But most she touched was with griefe entire
For losse of her new love, the hope of her desire.

But her the prince, through his well-wonted grace,
To better termes of myldnesse did entreat
From that fowle rudenesse which did her deface;
And that same bitter cor'sive, which did eat
Her tender heart and made refraine from meat,
He with good thewes and speaches well applyde
Did mollifie, and calme her raging heat:
For though she were most faire, and goodly dyde,
Yet she it all did mar with cruelty and pride.

And, for to shut up all in friendly love,
Sith love was first the ground of all her griefe,
That trusty squire he wisely well did move
Not to despise that dame which lov'd him liefe,
Till he had made of her some better priefe ;
But to accept her to his wedded wife :
Thereto he offred for to make him chiefe
Of all her land and lordship during life:
He yeelded, and her tooke; so stinted all their strife.

From that day forth in peace and ioyous blis
They liv'd together long without debate;
Ne private iarre, ne spite of enemis,
Could shake the safe assuraunce of their state:
And she, whom Nature did so faire create
That she mote match the fairest of her daies,
Yet with lewd loves and lust intemperate
Had it defaste, thenceforth reformd her waies,
That all men much admyrde her change, and spake
her praise.

Thus when the prince had perfectly compylde
These paires of friends in peace and setled rest;
Himselfe, whose minde did travell as with chylde
Of his old love conceav'd in secret brest,
Resolved to pursue his former guest;
And, taking leave of all, with him did beare
Faire Amoret, whom fortune by bequest
Had left in his protection whileare,
Exchanged out of one into another feare.

Feare of her safety did her not constraine;
For well she wist now in a mighty hond
Her person, late in perill, did remaine,
Who able was all daungers to withstond:
But now in feare of shame she more did stond,
Seeing herselfe all soly succourlesse,
Left in the victors powre, like vassall bond;
Whose will or weakenesse could no way represse,
In case his burning lust should breake into excesse.

But cause of feare sure had she none at all
Of him, who goodly learned had of yore
The course of loose affection to forstall,
And lawlesse lust to rule with reasons lore;
That, all the while he by his side her bore,
She was as safe as in a sanctuary.
Thus many miles they two together wore,
To seeke their lovers dispersed diversly;
Yet neither shewed to other their hearts privity.

At length they came whereas a troupe of knights
They saw together skirmishing, as seemed:
Sixe they were all, all full of fell despight,
But foure of them the battell best beseemed,
That which of them was best mote not be deemed.
These foure were they from whom false Florimel
By Braggadochio lately was redeemed;
To weet, sterne Druon, and lewd Claribell,
Love-lavish Blandamour, and lustfull Paridell.

Druons delight was all in single life,

And unto ladies love would lend no leasure:
The more was Claribell enraged rife
With fervent flames, and loved out of measure:
So eke lov'd Blandamour, but yet at pleasure
Would change his liking, and new lemans prove:
But Paridell of love did make no threasure,
But lusted after all that him did move :
So diversly these foure disposed were to love.

But those two other, which beside them stoode,
Were Britomart and gentle Scudamour;
Who all the while beheld their wrathfull moode,
And wondred at their impacable stoure,
Whose like they never saw till that same houre:
So dreadfull strokes each did at other drive,
And laid on load with all their might and powre,
As if that every dint the ghost would rive
Out of their wretched corses, and their lives deprive.

As when Dan Eolus, in great displeasure
For losse of his deare love by Neptune hent,
Sends forth the winds out of his hidden threasure
Upon the sea to wreake his full intent;
They, breaking forth with rude unruliment
From all foure parts of Heaven, doe rage full sore,
And tosse the deepes, and teare the firmament,
And all the world confound with wide uprore;
As if instead thereof they chaos would restore.

Cause of their discord and so fell debate
Was for the love of that same snowy maid,
Whome they had lost in turneyment of late;
And, seeking long to weet which way she straid,
Met here together; where, through lewd upbraide
Of Ate and Duessa, they fell out;

And each one taking part in others aide
This cruell conflict raised thereabout,
Whose dangerous successe depended yet in doubt:

For sometimes Paridell and Blandamour
The better had, and bet the others backe;
Eftsoones the others did the field recoure,
And on their foes did worke full cruell wracke:
Yet neither would their fiend-like fury slacke,
But evermore their malice did augment;
Till that uneath they forced were, for lacke
Of breath, their raging rigour to relent,
And rest themselves for to recover spirits spent.

There gan they change their sides, and new parts
For Paridell did take to Druons side, [take;
For old despight which now forth newly brake
Gainst Blandamour whom alwaies he envide;
And Blandamour to Claribell relide:
So all afresh gan former fight renew.

As when two barkes, this caried with the tide,
That with the wind, contráry courses sew, [anew.
If wind and tide doe change, their courses change

Thenceforth they much more furiously gan fare,
As if but then the battell had begonne;

Ne helmets bright ne hawberks strong did spare,
That through the clifts the vermeil bloud out sponne,
And all adowne their riven sides did ronne.
Such mortall malice wonder was to see
In friends profest, and so great outrage donne :
But sooth is said, and tride in each degree,
Faint friends when they fall out most cruell fomen bee.

Thus they long while continued in fight;
Till Scudamour and that same Briton maide
By fortune in that place did chance to light:
Whom soone as they with wrathfull eie bewraide,
They gan remember of the fowle upbraide,
The which that Britonesse had to them donne
In that late turney for the snowy maide;
Where she had them both shamefully fordonne,
And eke the famous prize of beauty from them

wonne.

Eftsoones all burning with a fresh desire
Of fell revenge, in their malicious mood
They from themselves gan turne their furious ire,
And cruell blades yet steeming with whot bloud
Against those two let drive, as they were wood:
Who wondring much at that so sodaine fit,
Yet nought dismayd, them stoutly well withstood;
Ne yeelded foote, ne once abacke did flit,
But, being doubly smitten, likewise doubly smit.

The warlike dame was on her part assaid
Of Clarabell and Blandamour attone;
And Paridell and Druon fiercely laid
At Scudamour, both his professed fone:
Foure charged two, and two surcharged one;
Yet did those two themselves so bravely beare,
That th' other litle gained by the lone,
But with their owne repayed duely weare,
And usury withall: such gaine was gotten deare.

Full oftentimes did Britomart assay

To speake to them, and some emparlance move;
But they for nought their cruell hands would stay,
Ne lend an eare to ought that might behove.
As when an eager mastiffe once doth prove
The tast of bloud of some engored beast,
No words may rate, nor rigour him remove
From greedy hold of that his blouddy feast:
So, litle did they hearken to her sweet beheast.

Whom when the Briton prince afarre beheld
With ods of so unequall match opprest,
His mighty heart with indignation sweld,
And inward grudge fild his heroicke brest:
Eftsoones himselfe he to their aide addrest,
And thrusting fierce into the thickest preace
Divided them, however loth to rest;

And would them faine from battell to surceasse,
With gentle words perswading them to friendly

peace.

But they so farre from peace or patience were,
That all at once at him gan fiercely flie,
And lay on load, as they him downe would beare;
Like to a storme which hovers under skie,
Long here and there and round about doth stie,

At length breakes downe in raine, and haile, and sleet,
First from one coast, till nought thereof be drie;
And then another, till that likewise fleet;
And so from side to side till all the world it weet.

But now their forces greatly were decayd,
The prince yet being fresh untoucht afore;
Who them with speaches milde gan first disswade
From such foule outrage, and them long forbore;
Till, seeing them through suffrance hartned more,
Himselfe he bent their furies to abate,
And layd at them so sharpely and so sore,
That shortly them compelled to retrate,
And being brought in daunger to relent too late.

But now his courage being throughly fired,
He ment to make them know their follies prise,
Had not those two him instantly desired
Tasswage his wrath, and pardon their mesprise:
At whose request he gan himselfe advise
To stay his hand, and of a truce to treat
In milder tearmes, as list them to devise;
Mongst which the cause of their so cruell heat
He did them aske; who all that passed gan repeat;

And told at large how that same errant knight,
To weet, faire Britomart, them late had foyled
In open turney, and by wrongfull fight
Both of their publicke praise had them despoyled,
And also of their private loves beguyled;
Of two fuil hard to read the harder theft.
But she that wrongfull challenge soone assoyled,
And shew'd that she had not that lady reft,
(As they suppos'd) but her had to her liking left.

To whom the prince thus goodly well replied;
"Certes, sir Knight, ye seemen much to blame
To rip up wrong that battell once hath tried;
Wherein the honor both of armes ye shame,
And eke the love of ladies foule defame;
To whom the world this franchise ever yeelded,
That of their loves choise they might freedom clame,
And in that right should by all knights be shielded:
Gainst which, me seemes, this war ye wrongfully
have wielded."

"And yet," quoth she, "a greater wrong remaines :
For I thereby my former love have lost;
Whom seeking ever since with endlesse paines
Hath me much sorrow and much travell cost:
Aye me, to see that gentle maide so tost!"
But Scudamour then sighing deepe thus saide;
"Certes her losse ought me to sorrow most,
Whose right she is, wherever she be straide,
Through many perils wonne, and many fortunes
waide:

"For from the first that I her love profest,
Unto this houre, this present lucklesse howre,
I never joyed happinesse nor rest;
But thus turmoild from one to other stowre
I wast my life, and doe my daies devowre
In wretched anguishe and incessant woe,
Passing the measure of my feeble powre;
That, living thus a wretch and loving so,
I neither can my love ne yet my life forgo."

The good sir Claribell him thus bespake;
"Now were it not, sir Scudamour, to you
Dislikefull paine so sad a taske to take,
Mote we entreat you, sith this gentle crew
That, as we ride together on our way,
Is now so well accorded all anew,

Ye will recount to us in order dew
All that adventure which ye did assay

For that faire ladies love: past perils well apay."

So gan the rest him likewise to require:
But Britomart did him impórtune hard
To take on him that paine; whose great desire
He glad to satisfie, himselfe prepar'd
To tell through what misfortune he had far'd
In that atchievement, as to him befell,
And all those daungers unto them declar'd;
Which sith they cannot in this canto well
Comprised be, I will them in another tell.

CANTO X.

Scudamour doth his conquest tell
Of vertuous Amoret:
Great Venus temple is describ'd;

And lovers life forth set.

"TRUE he it said, whatever man it sayd,
That love with gall and hony doth abound
But if the one be with the other wayd,
For every dram of hony, therein found,
A pound of gall doth over it redound:
That I too true by triall have approved';
For since the day that first with deadly wound
My heart was launcht, and learned to have loved,
I never ioyed howre, but still with care was moved.

And yet such grace is given them from above,
That all the cares and evill which they meet
May nought at all their setled mindes remove,
But seeme gainst common sence to them most
As bosting in their martyrdome unmeet. [sweet;
So all that ever yet I have endured
I count as naught, and tread downe under feet,
Since of my love at length I rest assured,
That to disloyalty she will not be allured.

"Long were to tell the travell and long toile,
Through which this shield of love I late have wonne,
And purchased this peerelesse beauties spoile,
That harder may be ended, then begonne :
But since ye so desire, your will be donne.
Then hearke, ye gentle knights and ladies free,
My hard mishaps that ye may learne to shonne;
For though sweet love to conquer glorious bee,
Yet is the paine thereof much greater then the fee.
"What time the fame of this renowmed prise
Flew first abroad, and all mens eares possest;
I, having armes then taken, gan avise
To winne me honour by some noble gest,
And purchase me some place amongst the best.
I boldly thought, (so young mens thoughts are bold)
That this same brave emprize for me did rest,
And that both shield and she whom I behold
Might be my lucky lot; sith all by lot we hold.

"So on that hard adventure forth I went,
And to the place of perill shortly came :
That was a temple faire and auncient,
Which of great mother Venus bare the name,
And farre renowmed through exceeding fame;
Much more then that which was in Paphos built,
Or that in Cyprus, both long since this same,
Though all the pillours of the one were guilt,
And all the others pavement were with yvory spilt:

"And it was seated in an island strong,
Abounding all with delices most rare,
And wall'd by nature gainst invaders wrong,
That none mote have accesse, nor inward fare,
But by one way that passage did prepare.
It was a bridge ybuilt in goodly wize
With curious corbes and pendants graven faire,
And arched all with porches did arize

On stately pillours fram'd after the Doricke guize:

"And for defence thereof on th' other end
There reared was a castle faire and strong,
That warded all which in or out did wend,
And flancked both the bridges sides along,
Gainst all that would it faine to force or wrong:
And therein wonned twenty valiant knights;
All twenty tride in warres experience long;
Whose office was against all manner wights
By all meanes to maintaine that castels ancient
rights.

"Before that castle was an open plaine,
And in the midst thereof a pillar placed;
On which this shield, of many sought in vaine,
THE SHIELD OF LOVE, whose guerdon me hath graced,
Was hangd on high with golden ribbands laced;
And in the marble stone was written this,
With golden letters goodly well enchaced;
Blessed the man that well can use this blis:
Whose ever be the shield, faire Amoret be his.

"On th' one side he, on th' other sate Delay,
Behinde the gate, that none her might espy;
Whose manner was, all passengers to stay
And entertaine with her occasions sly;
Through which some lost great hope unheedily,
Which never they recover might againe;
And others, quite excluded forth, did ly
Long languishing there in unpittied paine,
And seeking often entraunce afterwards in vaine.

"Me whenas he had privily espide

Bearing the shield which I had conquerd late,
He kend it streight, and to me opened wide:
So in I past, and streight he closd the gate.
But being in, Delay in close awaite
Caught hold on me, and thought my steps to stay,
Feigning full many a fond excuse to prate,
And time to steale, the threasure of mans day,
Whose smallest minute lost no riches render may.

"But by no meanes my way I would forslow
For ought that ever she could doe or say;
But from my lofty steede dismounting low
Past forth on foote, beholding all the way
The goodly workes, and stones of rich assay,
Cast into sundry shapes by wondrous skill,
That like on Earth no where I recken may;
And underneath, the river rolling still [mans will.
With murmure soft, that seem'd to serve the work-