Eftsoonies his page drew to the castle gate,
And with his iron ffale at it let flie,
That all the warders it did sore amate,
The which ere-while spake so reprochfully,
And made them stoupe, that looked earst so bie.
Yet still he bet and bounst uppon the dore,
And thundred strokes thereon so hideouslie,
That all the peece he shaked from the flore,
And filled all the house with feare and great uprore.
With noise whereof the lady forth appeared
Uppon the castle wall; and, when she saw
The daungerous state in which she stood, she feared
The sad effect of her neare overthrow;
And gan intreat that iron man below

To cease his outrage, and him faire besought;
Sith neither force of stones which they did throw,
Nor powr of charms, which she against him wrought,
Might otherwise prevaile, or make him cease for
ought.

But, whenas yet she saw him to proceede
Unmov'd with praiers or with piteous thought,
She ment him to corrupt with goodly meede;
And causde great sackes with endlesse riches fraught
Unto the battilment to be upbrought,
And powred forth over the castle wall,
That she might win some time, though dearly bought,
Whilest he to gathering of the gold did fall;
But he was nothing mov'd nor tempted therewithall:

But still continu'd his assault the more,
And layd on load with his huge yron flaile,
That at the length he has yrent the dore,
And made way for his maister to assaile :
Who being entred, nought did then availe
For wight against his powre themselves to reare:
Each one did ffie; their harts began to faile;
And hid themselves in corners here and there;
And eke their dame halfe dead did hide herself for
feare.

Long they her sought, yet no where could they finde
That sure they ween'd she was escapt away: [her,
But Talus, that could like a lime-hound winde her,
And all things secrete wisely could bewray,
At length found out whereas she hidden lay
Under an heape of gold: thence he her drew
By the faire lockes, and fowly did array
Withouten pitty of her goodly hew,

That Artegall himselfe her seemelesse plight did rew.
Yet for no pitty would he change the course
Of justice, which in Talus hand did lye ;
Who rudely hayld her forth without remorse,
Still holding up her suppliant hands on hye,
And kneeling at his feete submissively:
But he her suppliant hands, those hands of gold,,
And eke her feete, those feete of silver trye,
Which sought unrighteousnesse, and iustice sold,
Chopt off, and nayld on high, that all might them

behold.

Herselfe then tooke he by the sclender wast
In vaine loud crying, and into the flood
Over the castle wall adowne her cast,
And there her drowned in the dirty mud:
But the streame washt away her guilty blood.
Thereafter all that mucky pelfe he tooke,
The spoile of peoples evit gotten good,
The which her sire had scrap't by hooke and crooke,
And burning all to ashes powr'd it down the brooke.

And lastly all that castle quite he raced,
Even from the sole of his foundation,
And all the hewen stones thereof defaced,
That there mote be no hope of reparation,
Nor memory thereof to any nation.

All which when Talus throughly had perfourmed, Sir Artegall undid the evil fashion,

And wicked customes of that bridge refourmed: Which done, unto his former iourney he retourned

In which they measur'd mickle weary way,
Till that at length nigh to the sea they drew ;
By which as they did travell on a day,
They saw before them, far as they could vew,
Full many people gathered in a crew;
Whose great assembly they did much admire;
For never there the like resort they knew.
So towardes them they coasted, to enquire
What thing so many nations met did there desire/

There they beheld a mighty gyant stand
Upon a rocke, and holding forth on hie
An huge great paire of ballance in his hand,
With which he boasted in his surquedrie
That all the world he would weigh equallie,
If ought he had the same to counterpoys:
For want whereof he weighed vanity,
And fild his ballaunce full of idle toys:
Yet was admired much of fooles, women, and boys.

He sayd that he would all the earth uptake
And all the sea, divided each from either:
So would he of the fire one ballaunce make,
And one of th' ayre, without or wind or wether :
Then would he ballaunce Heaven and Hell together,
And all that did within them all containe;

Of all whose weight he would not misse a fether:
And looke what surplus did of each remaine,
He would to his owne part restore the same againe.

For why, he sayd, they all unequall were,
And had encroched upon others share;
Like as the sea (which plaine he shewed there)
Had worne the earth; so did the fire the aire;
So all the rest did others parts empaire:
And so were realmes and nations run awry.
All which he undertooke for to repaire,
In sort as they were formed aunciently;
And all things would reduce unto equality.

Therefore the vulgar did about him flocke,
And cluster thicke unto his leasings vaine;
Like foolish flies about an hony-crocke;
In hope by him great benefite to gaine,
And uncontrolled freedome to obtaine.
All which when Artegall did see and heare,
How he misled the simple peoples traine,
In sdeignfull wize he drew unto him neare,
And thus unto him spake, without regard or
feare;

"Thou, that presum'st to weigh the world anew,
And all things to an equall to restore,
Instead of right me seemes great wrong dost shew,
And far above thy forces pitch to sore;
For, ere thou limit what is lesse or more
In every thing, thou oughtest first to know
What was the poyse of every part of yore:
And looke then, how much it doth overflow
Or faile thereof, so much is more then just to trow.

For at the first they all created were
In goodly measure by their Makers might;
And weighed out in ballaunces so nere,
That not a dram was missing of their right:
The Earth was in the middle centre pight,
In which it doth immoveable abide,
Hemd in with waters like a wall in sight,
And they with aire, that not a drop can slide:
All which the Heavens containe, and in their
courses guide.

"Such heavenly iustice doth among them raine,
That every one doe know their certaine bound;
In which they doe these many yeares remaine,
And mongst them al no change hath yet beene found:
But if thou now shouldst weigh them new in pound,
We are not sure they would so long remaine :
All change is perillous, and all chaunce unsound.
Therefore leave off to weigh them all againe,
Fill we may be assur'd they shall their course re-
taine."

"Thou foolishe elfe," said then the gyant wroth,
"Seest not how badly all things present bee,
And each estate quite out of order goth?
The sea itselfe doest thou not plainely see
Encroch uppon the land there under thee?
And th' earth itselfe how daily its increast
By all that dying to it turned be?
Were it not good that wrong were then surceast,
And from the most that some were given to the least?

"Therefore I will throw downe these mountains hie,
And make them levell with the lowly plaine,
These towring rocks, which reach unto the skie,
I will thrust downe into the deepest maine,
And, as they were, them equalize againe.
Tyrants, that make men subiect to their law,
I will suppresse, that they no more may raine;
And lordlings curbe that commons over-aw;
And all the wealth of rich men to the poore will
draw."

"Of things unseene how canst thou deeme aright,"
Then answered the righteous Artegall,
"Sith thou misdeem'st so much of things in sight?
What though the sea with waves continuall
Doe eate the earth, it is no more at all;
Ne is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought:
For whatsoever from one place doth fall
Is with the tide unto another brought:

For there is nothing lost, that may be found if sought.

"Likewise the earth is not augmented more
By all that dying into it doe fade;
For of the earth they formed were of yore:
However gay their blossome or their blade
Doe flourish now, they into dust shall vade.
What wrong then is it if that when they die
They turne to that whereof they first were made?
All in the powre of their great Maker lie:
All creatures must obey the voice of the Most Hie.

"They live, they die, like as he doth ordaine,
Ne ever any asketh reason why.

The hils doe not the lowly dales disdaine;
The dales doe not the lofty hils envy.
He maketh kings to sit in soverainty;

He maketh subiects to their powre obay;
He pulleth downe, he setteth up on hy;
He gives to this, from that he takes away:
For all we have is his; what he list doe, he may.

"Whatever thing is done, by him is donne,
Ne any may his mighty will withstand;
Ne any may his soveraine power shonne,
Ne loose that he hath bound with stedfast band:
In vaine therefore doest thou now take in hand
To call to count, or weigh his workes anew,
Whose counsels depth thou caust not understand;
Sith of things subiect to thy daily vew [dew.
Thou doest not know the causes nor their courses.

"For take thy ballaunce, if thou be so wise,
And weigh the winde that under Heaven doth blow;
Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise;
But if the weight of these thou canst not show,
Or weigh the thought that from mans mind doth flow:
Weigh but one word which from thy lips doth fall:
For how canst thou those greater secrets know,
That doest not know the least thing of them all?
Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small."

Therewith the gyant much abashed sayd
That he of little things made reckoning light;
Yet the least word that ever could be layd
Within his ballaunce he could way aright.
"Which is," sayd he, "more heavy then in weight,
The right or wrong, the false or else the trew?"
He answered that he would try it streight:
So he the words into his ballaunce threw; [flew.
But streight the winged words out of his ballaunce

Wroth wext he then, and sayd that words were light,
Ne would within his ballaunce well abide:
But he could justly weigh the wrong or right.
"Well then," sayd Artegall, "let it be tride :'
First in one ballance set the true aside."
He did so first, and then the false he layd
In th' other scale; but still it downe did slide,
And by no meane could in the weight be stayd:
For by no meanes the false will with the truth be
wayd.

"Now take the right likewise," sayd Artegale,
"And counterpeise the same with so much wrong.”
And then the gyant strove with puissance strong
So first the right he put into one scale;
To fill the other scale with so much wrong:
But all the wrongs that he therein could lay
Might not it peise; yet did he labour long,
And swat, and chauf'd, and proved every way:
Yet all the wrongs could not a litle right downe way.

Which when he saw, he greatly grew in rage,
And almost would his balances have broken:
But Artegall him fairely gan asswage,
And said, "Be not upon thy balance wroken:
For they do nought but right or wrong betoken;
But in the mind the doome of right must bee:
And so likewise of words, the which be spoken,
The eare must be the ballance, to decree [agree.
And judge, whether with truth or falshood they

"But set the truth and set the right aside,
For they with wrong or falshood will not fare,
And put two wrongs together to be tride,
Or else two falses, of each equal share,
And then together doe them both compare:
For truth is one, and right is ever one."
So did he; and then plaine it did appeare,
Whether of them the greater were attone:
But right sat in the middest of the beame alone.

But he the right from thence did thrust away;
Fór it was not the right which he did seeke:
But rather strove extremities to way,
Th' one to diminish, th' other for to eeke:
For of the meane he greatly did misleeke.
Whom when so lewdly minded Talus found,
Approching nigh unto him cheeke by cheeke
He shouldered him from off the higher ground,
And down the rock him throwing in the sea him
dround.

Like as a ship, whom cruell tempest drives
Upon a rocke with horrible dismay,
Her shattered ribs in thousand peeces rives,
And spoyling all her geares and goodly ray
Does make herselfe misfortunes piteous pray.
So downe the cliffe the wretched gyant tumbled;
His battred ballances in peeces lay,

His timbered bones all broken rudely rumbled:
So was the high-aspyring with huge ruine humbled.

That when the people, which had there about
Long wayted, saw his sudden desolation,
They gan to gather in tumultuous rout,
And mutining to stirre up civill faction
For certaine losse of so great expectation:
For well they hoped to have got great good,
And wondrous riches by his innovation:
Therefore resolving to revenge his blood
They rose in armes, and all in battell order stood.

Which lawlesse multitude him comming to
In warlike wise when Artegall did vew,
He much was troubled, ne wist what to do:
For loth he was his noble hands t' embrew
In the base blood of such a rascall crew;
And otherwise, if that he should retire,

He fear'd least they with shame would him pursew:
Therefore he Talus to them sent t' inquire
The cause of their array, and truce for to desire.

But soone as they him nigh approching spide,
They gan with all their weapons him assay,
And rudely stroke at him on every side;

Yet nought they could him hurt, ne ought dismay:
But when at them he with his flaile gan lay,
He like a swarm of flyes them overthrew :
Ne any of them durst come in his way,
But here and there before his presence flew,
And hid themselves in holes and bushes from his

vew.

As when a faulcon hath with nimble flight
Flowne at a flush of ducks foreby the brooke,
The trembling foule dismayd with dreadfull sight
Of death, the which them almost overtooke,
Doe hide themselves from her astonying looke
Amongst the flags and covert round about.
When Talus saw they all the field forsooke,
And none appear'd of all that rascall rout,

To Artegall he turn'd and went with him through

out.

CANTO III.

The spousals of faire Florimell, Where turney many knights: There Braggadochio is uncas'd In all the ladies sights.

AFTER long stormes and tempests over-blowne
The Sunne at length his ioyous face doth cleare:
So whenas fortune all her spight hath showne,
Some blisfull houres at last must needes appeare}
Else should afflicted wights oft-times despeire.
So comes it now to Florimell by tourne,
After long sorrowes suffered whyleare,
In which captiv'd she many moneths did mourne,
To tast of ioy, and to wont pleasures to retourne:

Who, being freed from Proteus cruell band
By Marinell, was unto him affide,

And by him brought againe to Faerie land;
Where he her spous'd, and made his ioyous bride.
The time and place was blazed farre and wide,
And solemne feastes and giusts ordain'd therefore:
To which there did resort from every side
Of lords and ladies infinite great store;

Ne any knight was absent that brave courage bore.

To tell the glorie of the feast that day,
The goodly service, the devicefull sights,
The bridegromes state, the brides most rich aray,
The pride of ladies, and the worth of knights,
The royall banquets, and the rare delights,
Were worke fit for an herauld, not for me:
But for so much as to my lot here lights,
That with this present treatise doth agree,
True vertue to advance, shall here recounted beer

When all men had with full satietie
Of meates and drinkes their appetites suffiz'd,
To dcedes of arines and proofe of chevalrie
They gan themselves addresse, full rich aguiz'd,
As each one had his furnitures deviz❜d.
And first of all issu'd sir Marinell,

And with him sixe knights more, which enterpriz'd
To chalenge all in right of Florimell,

And to maintaine that she all others did excell.

The first of them was hight sir Orimont,
A noble knight, and tride in hard assayes:
The second bad to name sir Bellisont,
But second unto none in prowesse prayse:
The third was Brunell, famous in his dayes:
The fourth Ecastor, of exceeding might:
The fift Armeddan, skild in lovely layes:
The sixt was Lansack, a redoubted knight:
All sixe well seene in armes, and prov'd in many a
fight.

And them against came all that list to giust,
From every coast and countrie under Sunue:
None was debard, but all had leave that lust.
The trompets sound; then all together ronne.
Full many deeds of armes that day were donne;
And many knights unhorst, and many wounded,
As fortune fell; yet little lost or wonne:
But all that day the greatest prayse redounded [ed.
To Marinell, whose name the heralds loud resound-

The second day, so soone as morrow light
Appear'd in Heaven, into the field they came,
And there all day continew'd cruell fight,
With divers fortune fit for such a game,
In which all strove with perill to winne fame;
Yet whether side was victor note be ghest:
But at the last the trompets did proclame
That Marinell that day deserved best.

So they disparted were, and all men went to rest.

The third day came, that should due tryall lend
Of all the rest; and then this warlike crew
Together met, of all to make an end.
There Marinell great deeds of armes did shew;
And through the thickest like a lyon flew,
Rashing off helmes, and ryving plates asonder;
That every one his daunger did eschew:
So terribly his dreadfull strokes did thonder,

And thether also came in open sight
Fayre Florimell into the common hall,
To greet his guerdon unto every knight,
And best to him to whom the best should fall.
Then for that stranger knight they loud did call,
To whom that day they should the girlond yield;
Who came not forth: but for sir Artegall
Came Braggadochio, and did shew his shield,
Which bore the Sunne brode blazed in a golden field.

wonder.

But what on Earth can alwayes happie stand?
The greater prowesse greater perills find.
So farre he past amongst his enemies band,
That they have him enclosed so behind,
As by no meanes he can himselfe outwind:
And now perforce they have him prisoner taken;
And now they doe with captive bands him bind;
And now they lead him hence, of all forsaken,
Unlesse some succour had in time him overtaken.

It fortun'd, whylest they were thus ill beset,
Sir Artegall into the tilt-yard came,
With Braggadochio, whom he lately met
Upon the way with that his snowy dame:
Where when he understood by common fame,
What evil hap to Marinell betid,

He much was mov'd at so unworthie shame,
And streight that boaster prayd, with whom he rid,
To change his shield with him, to be the better hid.

So forth he went, and soone them overhent,
Where they were leading Marinell away;
Whom he assayld with dreadlesse hardiment,
And forst the burden of their prize to stay.
They were an hundred knights of that array;
Of which th' one halfe upon himselfe did set,
The other stayd behind to gard the pray :
But he ere long the former fiftie bet;

And from the other fiftie soone the prisoner fet.

So backe he brought sir Marinell againe;
Whom having quickly arm'd againe anew,
They both together ioyned might and maine,
To set afresh on all the other crew:
Whom with sore havocke soone they overthrew,
And chased quite out of the field, that none
Against them durst his head to perill shew.
So were they left lords of the field alone :
So Marinell by him was rescu'd from his fonè.

Which when he had perform'd, then backe againe
To Braggadochio did his shield restore :
Who all this while behind him did remaine,
Keeping there close with him in pretious store
That his false ladie, as ye heard afore.
Then did the trompets sound, and judges rose,
And all these knights, which that day armour bore,
Came to the open hall to listen whose

The honour of the prize should be adiudg'd by those.

To whom the boaster, that all knights did blot,
With proud disdaine did scornefull answere make,
That what he did that day, he did it not
For her, but for his owne deare ladies sake,
Whom on his perill he did undertake
Both her and eke all others to excell:
And further did uneomely speaches crake.
Much did his words the gentle ladie quell,
And turn'd aside for shame to heare what he did tell

Then forth he brought his snowy Florimele,
Whom Tromparte had in keeping there beside,
Covered from peoples gazement with a vele:
Whom when discovered they had throughly eide,
With great amazement they were stupefide;
And said, that surely Florimell it was,
Or if it were not Florimell so tride,
That Florimell herselfe she then did pas.
So feeble skill of perfect things the vulgar has.
Which whenas Marinell beheld likewise,
He was therewith exceedingly dismayd;
Ne wist he what to thinke, or to devise:

But, like as one whom féends had made affrayd,
He long astonisht stood, ne ought he sayd,
Ne ought he did, but with fast fixed eies
He gazed still upon that snowy mayd;
Whom ever as he did the more avize,
The more to be true Florimell he did surmize.

As when two sunnes appeare in th' azure skye,
Mounted in Phoebus charet fierie bright,
Both darting forth faire beames to each mans eye,
And both adorn'd with lampes of flaming light;
All that behold so strange prodigious sight,
Not knowing Natures worke, nor what to weené,
Are rapt with wonder and with rare affright.
So stood sir Marinell when he had seene [queene.
The semblant of this false by his faire beauties

All which when Artegall, who all this while
Stood in the preasse close covered, well advewed,
And saw that boasters pride and gracelesse guile,
He could no longer beare, but forth issewed,
And unto all himselfe there open shewed,
And to the boaster said; "Thou losell base,
That hast with borrowed plumes thyselfe endewed,
And others worth with leasings doest deface,
When they are all restor'd thou shalt rest in dis-

grace.

"That shield, which thou doest beare, was it indeed
Which this dayes honour sav'd to Marinell :
But not that arme, nor thou the man I reed,
Which didst that service unto Florimell:
For proofe shew forth thy sword, and let it tell
What strokes, what dreadfull stoure, it stird this day:
Or shew the wounds which unto thee befell;
Or shew the sweat with which thou diddest sway
So sharpe a battell, that so many did dismay.

"But this the sword which wrought those cruell stounds,

And this the arme the which that shield did beare,
And these the signs," (so shewed forth his wounds)
"By which that glorie gotten doth appeare.
As for this ladie, which he sheweth here,
Is not (I wager) Florimell at all;

But some fayre franion, fit for such a fere,
That by misfortune in his hand did fall."

For proofe whereof he bad them Florimell forth call.

So forth the noble ladie was ybrought,
Adorn'd with honor and all comely grace:
Whereto her bashfull shamefastnesse ywrought
A great increase in her faire blushing face;
As roses did with lillies interlace :

For of those words, the which that boaster threw,
She inly yet conceived great disgrace:
Whom whenas all the people such did vew, [shew.
They shouted loud, and signes of gladnesse all did

Then did he set her by that snowy one,
Like the true saint beside the image set;
Of both their beauties to make paragone
And triall, whether should the honor get.
Streightway, so soone as both together met,
Th' enchaunted damzell vanisht into nought:
Her snowy substance melted as with heat,
Ne of that goodly hew remayned ought, [wrought.
But th' emptie girdle which about her wast was

As when the daughter of Thaumantes faire
Hath in a watry cloud displayed wide
Her goodly bow, which paints the liquid ayre;
That all men wonder at her colours pride;
All suddenly, ere one can looke aside,
The glorious picture vanisheth away,
Ne any token doth thereof abide :
So did this ladies goodly forme decay,

And into nothing goe, ere one could it bewray.

Which whenas all that present were beheld,
They stricken were with great astonishment,
And their faint harts with senselesse horrour queld,
To see the thing, that seem'd so excellent,
So stolen from their fancies wonderment;
That what of it became none understood:
And Braggadochio selfe with dreriment
So daunted was in his despeyring mood,
That like a lifelesse corse immoveable he stood.

But Artegall that golden belt uptooke,
The which of all her spoyle was onely left;
Which was not hers, as many it mistooke,
But Florimells owne girdle, from her reft
While she was flying, like a weary weft,
From that foule monster which did her compell
To perils great; which he unbuckling eft
Presented to the fayrest Florimell;

Who round about her tender wast it fitted well.

Full many ladies often had assayd
About their middles that faire belt to knit ;
And many a one suppos'd to be a mayd:
Yet it to none of all their loynes would fit,
Till Florimell about her fastned it.
Such power it had, that to no womans wast
By any skill or labour it would sit,
Unlesse that she were continent and chast;
But it would lose or breake, that many had disgrast.

Whilest thus they busied were bout Florimell,
And boastfull Braggadochio to defame,
Sir Guyon, as by fortune then befell,
Forth from the thickest preasse of people came,
His owne good steed, which he had stolne, to clame;
And, th' one hand seizing on his golden bit,
With th' other drew his sword; for with the same
He meant the thiefe there deadly to have smit:
And, had he not bene held, he nought had fayld of
it.

Thereof great hurly burly moved was
Throughout the hall for that same warlike horse:"
For Braggadochio would not let him pas;
And Guyon would him algates have perforse,
Or it approve upon his carrion corse.
Which troublous stirre when Artegall perceived,
He nigh them drew to stay th' avengers forse;
And gan inquire how was that steed bereaved,
Whether by might extort, or else by slight deceaved.

Who all that piteous storie, which befell
About that wofull couple which were slaine,
And their young bloodie babe to him gan tell;
With whom whiles he did in the wood remaine,
His horse purloyned was by subtill traine;
For which he chalenged the thiefe to fight:
But he for nought could him thereto constraine;
For as the death he hated such despight,
And rather had to lose than trie in armes his right.

Which Artegall well hearing, (though no more
By law of armes there neede ones right to trie,
As was the wont of warlike knights of yore,
Then that his foe should him the field denie,)
Yet further right by tokens to descrie,
He askt, what privie tokens he did beare.
"If that," said Guyon, "may you satisfie,
Within his mouth a blacke spot doth appeare,
Shapt like a horses shoe, who list to seeke it there.

Whereof to make due tryall one did take
The horse in hand within his mouth to looke:
But with his heeles so sorely he him strake,
That all his ribs he quite in peeces broke,
That never word from that day forth he spoke.
Another, that would seeme to have more wit,
Him by the bright embrodered hedstall tooke:
But by the shoulder him so sore he bit, [split.
That he him maymed quite, and all his shoulder
Ne he his mouth would open unto wight,
Untill that Guyon selfe unto him spake,
And called Brigadore, (so was he hight)
Whose voice so soone as he did undertake,
Eftsoones he stood as still as any stake,
And suffred all his secret marke to see;
And, whenas he him nam'd, for ioy he brake
His bands, and follow'd him with gladfull glee,
And friskt, and flong aloft, and louted low on knee.