Sivut kuvina

Slaving her thus disarmed of her shield,

Tho with her sword on him she flatling strooke, Upon her helmet he againe her strooke,

In signe of true subiection to her powre, That downe she fell upon the grassie field And as her vassall him to thraldome tooke : In sencelesse swoune, as if her life forsooke, But Terpine, borne to’ a more unhappy howre, And pangs of death her spirit overtooke:

As he on whom the lucklesse starres did lowre, Whoin when he saw before his foote prostrated, She causd to be attacht and forthwith led He to her lept with deadly dreadfull looke, Unto the crooke, t' abide the balefull stowre And her sun-shynie helmet soone anlaced,

From which he lately had through reskew fled : Thinking at once both head and helmet to have Where he full shamefully was hanged by the hed. raeed.

But, when they thought on Talus hands to lay, But, whenas he discovered had her face,

He with his yron flaile amongst them thondred, He saw, bis senses straunge astonishment,

That they were fayne to let him scape away, A miracle of Natures goudly grace

Glad from his companie to be so condred; In her faire visage voide of ornament,

Whose presence all their troups so much encombreil, But bath'd in blond and sweat together ment; That th' heapes of those which he did wound and Which, in the rudenesse of tbat evill plight,

slay, Bewragd the signes of feature excellent :

Besides the rest dismayd, might not be nombred : Like as the Moone, in foggie winters night, [light. Yet all that while he would not once assay Doth seeme to be herselfe, though darkned be her To reskew his owne lord, but thought it iust t’obay. At sight thereof his cruell minded hart

Then tooke the Amazon this noble knight, Empierced was with pittifull regard,

Left to her will by his owne wilfull blame, That his sharpe sword he threw from him apart, And caused him to be disarmed quight Cursing his hand that had that visage mard: Of all the ornaments of knightly name, No hand so cruell, nor no hart so hard,

With which whylome he gotten had great fame : But ruth of beautie will it mollifie.

Instead whereof she made him to be dight By this, upstarting from her swoune she star'd In womans weedes, that is to manhood shame, A while about her with confused eye;

And put before his lap an apron white, Like one that from his dreame is waked suddenlye. Instead of curiets and bases fit for fight. Soone as the knight she there by her did spy So being clad she brought him from the field, Standing with emptie hands all weaponlesse, In which he had bene trayned many a day, With fresh assault upon him she did fly,

Into a long large chamber, which was field And gan renew her former cruelnesse:

With moniments of many knights decay And though he still retyr'd, yet nathëlesse By her subdewed in victorious fray: With huge redoubled strokes she on him layd; Amongst the which she causd his warlike armes And more increast her outrage mercilesse,

Bo hang'd on high, that mote his shame bewray ; The more that he with meeke intreatie prayd And broke his sword for feare of further harmes, Her wrathful hand from greedy vengeance to have with which he wont to stirre up battailous alarmnes.

stayd. Like as a puttocke having spyde in sight

There entred in he round about him saw [knew.

Many brave knights whose names right well ne A gentle faulcon sitting on an hill,

There bound tobay that Amazons proud law, Whose other wing, now made unmeete for flight,

Spinning and carding all in comely rew, Was lately broken by some fortune ill;

That his bigge hart loth'd so uncomely vew: The foolish kyte, led with licentious will,

But they were forst, through penurie and pyne, Doth beat upon the gentle bird in vaine,

To doe those workes to them appointed dew: With many idle stoups ber troubling still:

For nought was given them to sup or dyne, (twyne. Even so did Radigund with bootlesse paine

But what their hands could earne by twisting linnen Annoy this noble knight, and sorely him constraine. Nought could he do but shun the dred despight

Amongst them all she placed him most low, Of her fierce wrath, and backward still retyre;

And in his hand a distaffe to bim gave, And with his single shield, well as he might,

That he thereon should spin both flax and tow; Beard off the burden of her raging yre;

A sordid office for a mind so brave: And evermore he gently did desyre

So hard it is to be a womans slave! To stay her strokes, and he himselfe would yield:

Yet he it tooke in his owne selfes despight, Yet nould she hearke, ne let him once respyre,

And thereto did himselfe right well behave Till he to her delivered had his shield,

Her to obay, sith he his faith had plight And to her mercie him submitted in plaine field.

Her vassall to become, if she bim wonne in fight. So was he overcome, not overcome;

Who had him seene, imagine mote thereby But to her yeelded of his owne accordo;

That whylome hath of Hercules bene told,
Yet was he justly damned by the doome

How for Lolas sake he did apply
Of his owne mouth, that spake so warelesse word, His mightie hands the distaffe vile to hold
To be her thrall and service her afford :

For his huge club, which had subdew'd of old For though that he first victorie obtayned, So many monsters which the world annoyed; Yet after, by abandoning his sword,

His lyons skin chaungd to a pall of gold, He wilfull lost that he before attayned:

In wbich, forgetting warres, he onely joyed [ed. No fayrer conquest then that with goodwill is gayned. In combats of sweet love, apd with his mistresse toga YOL. III.


Such is the crueltie of womenkynd,

“Clarin,” said she, “thou seest yond Fayry knight, When they have shaken off the shamefast band, Whom not my valour, but his owne brave mind With which wise Nature did them strongly bynd Subiected hath to my unequall might! Tobay the heasts of mans well-ruling hand, What right is it, that he should thraldome find That then all rule and reason they withstand For lending life to me a wretch unkind, To purchase a licentions libertie :

That for such good him recompence with ill! But vertuous women wisely understand,

Therefore I cast how I may him unbind, That they were borue to base humilitie,

And by his freedome get his free goodwill; Unlesse the Heavens them lift to lawfull soveraintie. Yet so, as bound to me he may continue still: Thus there long while continu'd Artegall,

“ Bound unto me; but not with such hard bands Serving proud Radigund with true subiection :

Of strong compulsion and streight violence, However it his noble heart did gall

As now in miserable state he stands; Tobay a womans tyrannous direction,

But with sweet love and sure benevolence, That might have had of life or death election:

Voide of malitious mind or foule offence: But, having chosen, now he might not chaunge. To which if thou canst win him any way During which time the wárlike Amazon,

Without discoverie of my thoughts pretence, Whose wandring fancie after lust did raunge,

Both goodly meede of him it purchase may, Gan cast a secret liking to this captive straunge.

And eke with gratefull service me right well apay. Which long concealing in her covert brest,

" Which that thou mayst the better bring to pass, She chaw'd the cud of lovers carefull plight; Yet could it not so thoroughly digest,

Loe! here this ring, which shall thy warrant bee

And token true to old Eumenias,
Being fast tixed in her wounded spright,
But it tormented her both day and night:

Prom time to tiine, when thou it best shalt see, Yet would she not thereto yeeld free accord

That in and out thou mayst have passage free. To serve the lowly vassall of her might,

Goe now, Clarinda; well thy wits advise, And of her servant make her soverayne lord : [hord. And all thy forces gather unto thee, So great her pride that she such basenesse much ab- Armies of lovely lookes, and speeches wise, (entise.”

With which thou canst even love himselfe to love So much the greater still her anguish grew, Through stubborne handling of her love-sicke hart; The trustie mayd, conceiving her intent, And still the more she strove it to subdew,

Did with sure promise of her good endevour The more she still angmented her owne smart, Give her great comfort and some harts content: And wyder made the wound of th' hidden dart. So from her parting she thenceforth did labour, At last, when long she struggled had in vaine, By all the meanes she might, to curry favour Sbe gan to stoupe, and her proud mind convert With the Elfin kuight, her ladies best beloved : To mceke obeysance of Loves mightie raine, With daily shew of courteous kind behaviour, And him entreat for grace that had procur'd her Even at the marke-white of his hart she roved, paine.

And with wide-glauncing words one day she thus

him proved : Unto herselfe in secret she did call Her nearest handmayd, whom she most did trust,

“ Unhappie knight, upon whose hopelesse state And to her said; “ Clarinda, whom of all

Fortune, envying good, hath felly frowned, I trust alive, sith I thee fostred first;

And cruell Heavens have heapt an heavy fate; Now is the time that I untimely must

I rew that thus thy better dayes are drowned Thereof make tryall, in my greatest need!

In sad despaire, and all thy senses swowned It is so hapned that the Heavens uniust,

In stupid sorow, sith thy iuster merit Spighting my happie freedome, have agreed

Might else have with felicitie bene crowned : To thrall my looser life, or my last bale to breed.” | Looke up at last, and wake thy dulled spirit [rit.” With that she turn'd her head, as halfe abashed,

To thinke how this long death thou mightest disinheTo hide the blush which in her visage rose

Much did he marvell at her uncouth speach, And through her eyes like sudden lightning flashed,

Whose hidden drift he could not well perceive; Decking her cheeke with a vermilion rose : But soone she did her countenance compose,

And gan to doubt least she him sought t'appeach And, to her turning, thus began againe ;

Of treason, or some guilefull traine did weave, This zriefes deepe wound I would to thee disclose, Through which she might his wretched life bereave: Thereto compelled through hart-murdring paine;

Both which to barre be with this answere met ber; But dread of shame my doubtfuil lips doth still re

“ Faire damzell, that with ruth, as I perceave, straine."

Of my mishaps art mov'd to wish me better,

For such your kind regard I can but rest your detter. “Ah! my deare dread," said then the fearefull mayd,

" Yet weet ye well, that to a courage great “ Candread of ought your dreadlesse hart withhold, It is no lesse beseeming well to beare That many hath with dread of death dismayd, The storme of Fortunes frowne or Heavens threat, And dare even Deathes most dreadfull face behold? Then in the sunshine of her countenance cleare Say on, my soverayne ladie, and be bold:

Timely to ioy and carrie comely cheare: Doth not your handmayds life at your foot lie?" For though this cloud have now me overcast, Therewith much comforted she gan unfold

- Yet doe I not of better times despeyre ; The cause of ber conceived maladie;

And though (unlike) they should for ever last, As one that would confesse, yet faine would it denie. Yet in my truthes assurance I rest fixed fast.”

< But what so stonie minde,” she then replyde, But sayd, that he was obstinate and sterne, “ But if in his owne powre occasion lay,

Scorning her offers and conditions vaine; Would to his hope a windowe open wyde,

Ne would be taught with any termes to lerne And to his fortunes helpe make readie way?” So fond a lesson as to love againe: “Unworthy sure," quoth he,“ of better day, Die rather would he in penurious paine, That will not take the offer of good hope,

And his abridged dayes in dolour wast, And eke pursew, if he attaine it may.'

Then his foes love or liking entertaine: Which speaches she applying to the scope

His resolution was, both first and last, Of her intent, this further purpose to him shope: His bodie was her thrall, his hart was freely plast. “ Then why doest not, thou ill-advized man,

Which when the cruell Amazon perceived, Make meanes to win thy libertie forlorne,

She gan to storme, and rage, and rend her gall, And try if thou by faire entreatie can

For very fell despight, which she conceived, Move Radigund? who though she still have worne

To be so scorned of a base-borne thrall, Her dayes in warre, yet (weet thou) was not borne Whose life did lie in her least eye-lids fall; Of beares and tygres, nor so salvage mynded

Of which she vow'd with many a cursed threat, As that, albe all love of men she scorne,

That she therefore would him ere long forstall. She yet forgets that she of men was kynded :

Nathlesse, when calmed was her furious heat, And sooth oft seene that proudest harts base love She chang'd that threatfull mood, and mildly gan

entreat: hath blynded.” " Certes, Clarinda, not of cancred will,”

" What now is left, Clarinda ? what remaines, Sayd he, “ por obstinate disdainefull mind,

That we may compasse this our enterprize?

Great shame to lose so long employed paines, I have forbore this duetie to fulfill : For well I may this weene, by that I fynd,

And greater shame t' abide so great misprize,

With which he dares our offers thus despize: That she a queene, and come of princely kynd,

Yet that his guilt the greater may appeare, Both worthie is for to be sewd unto,

And more my gratious mercie by this wize, Chiefely by him whose life her law doth bynd,

I will awhile with his first folly beare, (neare. And eke of powre her owne doome to undo,

Till thou have tride againe, and tempted him more And als’ of princely grace to be inclyn'd thereto. “ But want of meanes hath bene mine onely let

“ Say and do all that may hereto prevaile;

Leave nought unpromist that may him perswade, Prom seeking favour where it doth abound ; Which if I might by your good office get,

Life, freedome, grace, and gifts of great availe, I to yourselfe should rest for ever bound,

With which the gods themselves are mylder made : And ready to deserve what grace I found.”

Thereto adde art, even womens witty trade, She feeling him thus bite upon the bayt,

The art of mightie words that men can charme;

With which in case thou canst him not invade, Yet doubting least his hold was but unsound And not well fastened, would not strike him strayt, Who will not stoupe with good shall be made stoupe

Let him feele hardnesse of thy heavie arme: But drew him on with hope, fit leasure to awayt.

with harme. But foolish mayd, whyles heedlesse of the hooke “ Some of his diet doe from him withdraw; She thus oft-times was beating off and on, For I him find to be too proudly fed : Through slipperie footing fell into the brooke, Give him more labour, and with streighter law, And there was caught to her confusion:

That he with worke may be forwearied : For, seeking thus to salve the Amazon,

Let him lodge hard, and lie in strawen bed, She wounded was with her deceipts owne dart,

That may pull downe the courage of his pride ; And gan thenceforth to cast affection,

And lay upon him, for his greater dread, Conceived close in her beguiled hart,

Cold yron chaines with which let him be tide; To Artegall, through pittie of his causelesse smart. And let, whatever he desires, be him denide. Yet durst sbe not disclose her fancies wound, “ When thou hast all this doen, then bring me newes Ne to hiinselfe, for doubt of being sdayned, Of his demeane; thenceforth not like a lover, Ne yet to any other wight on ground,

But like a rebell stout, I will bim use: For feare her mistresse shold have knowledge gayn- For I resolve this siege not to give over, But to herselfe it secretly retayned [ed; Till I the conquest of my will recover. Within the closet of her covert brest :

So she departed full of griefe and sdaine, The more thereby her tender hart was payned : Which inly did to great impatience move her: Yet to awayt fit time she weened best,

But the false mayden shortly turn'd againe
And fairely did dissemble her sad thoughts unrest. Unto the prison, where her hart did thrall remaine.
One day her ladie, calling her apart,

There all her subtill nets she did unfold,
Gan to demaund of her some tydings good, And all the engins of her wit display;
Touching her loves successe, her lingring smart: In which she meant him warelesse to enfold,
Therewith sbe gan at first to change her mood, And of bis innocence to make her pray.
As one adaw'd, and halfe confused stood;

So cunningly she wrought her crafts assay,
But quickly she it overpast, so soone

That both her ladie, and herselfe withall, As she her face had wypt to fresh her blood : And eke the knight attonce she did betray; Tho gan she tell her all that she had donne, (wonne. But most the knight, whom she with guilefull call And all the wayes she sought his love for to have Did cast for to allure, into her trap to fall.

As a bad nurse, which, fayning to receive

Yet in the streightnesse of that captive state
In her owne mouth the food ment for her chyld, This gentle knight himselfe so well behaved,
Withboldes it to herselfe, and doeth deceive That notwithstanding all the subtill bait,
The infant, so for want of nourture spoyld; With which those Amazons his love still craved,
Even so Clarinda her owne dame beguyid, To his owne love his loialtie he saved :
And turn'd the trust, which was in her affyde, Whose character in th' adamantine mould
To feeding of her private fire, which boyld Of his true hart so firmely was engraved,
Her inward brest, and in ber entrayles fryde, That no new loves impression ever could (should.
The more that she it sought to cover and to hyde. Bereave it thence: such blot his honour blemish
For, comming to this knight, she purpose fayned, Yet his owne love, the noble Britomart,
How earnest suit she earst for him had made Scarse so conceived in her jealous thought,
Unto ber qneene, his freedome to have gayned; What time sad tydings of his baleful: smart
But by no meanes could her thereto perswade, In womans bondage Talus to her brought;
But that instead thereof she sternely bade Brought in untimely boure, ere it was sought :
His miserie to be augmented more,

For, after that the utmost date assynde
And many yron bands on him to lade;

for his returne she waited had for nought,
All which nathlesse she for his love forbore : She gan to cast in her misdoubtfull mynde (fynde.
So praying him t accept her service evermore. A thousand feares, that love-sicke fancies faine to
And, more then that, she promist that she would, Sometime she feared least some bard mishap
In case she might finde favour in his eye,

Had him misfalne in his adventurous quest;
Devize how to enlarge him out of hould.

Sometime least his false foe did him entrap
The Payrie, glad to gaine his libertie,

In traytrous trayne, or had anwares opprest;
Can yeeld great thankes for sych her curtesie; But most she did her troubled mynd molest,
And with faire words, fit for the time and place, And secretly afflict with jealous feare,
To feede the humour of her maladie,

Least some new love had him from her possest;
Promist, if she would free him from that case, Yet loth she was, since she no ill did heare,
He wold by all good means he might deserve such To thinke of him so ill; yet could she not forbeare,

One whyle she blam'd herselfe; another whyle
So daily he faire semblant did her shew,

She bim condemn'd as trustlesse and untrew : Yet never meant he in his noble mind

And then, her griefe with errour to beguyle, To his ow ne absent love to be untrew:

She fayn'd to count the time againe anew, Ne ever did deceiptfull Clarin find

As if before she had not counted trew: In her false hart his bondage to unbind;

For hợures, but dayes; for weekes that passed were, But rather how she mote him faster tye.

She told but moneths, to make them seeme more few: Therefore unto her mistresse most unkind

Yet, when she reckned them still drawing neare, She daily told her love he did defye;

Each hour did seeme a moneth, and every moneth And him she told her dame his freedome did denye.

a yeare. Yet thus much friendship she to him did show,

But, whenas yet she saw him not returne, That bis scarse diet soinewhat was amended,

She thought to send some one to seeke him out; And his worke lessened, that his love mote grow:

But none she found so fit to serve that turne, Yet to her dame him still she discommended,

As her owne selfe, to ease herselfe of dout. 'That she with him mote be the more offended.

Now she deviz'd, amongst the warlike rout Thus he long while in thraldome there remayned,

Of errant knights, to seeke her errant knight; Of both beloved well, but little friended;

And then againe resolv'd to hunt him out Untill his owne true love his freedome gayped :

Amongst loose ladies lapped in delight: (spight.
Which in another canto will be best contayned.

And then both knights envide, and ladies eke did
One day whenas she long had sought for ease
In every place, and every place thought best,
Yet found no place that could her liking please,

She to a window came, that opened west,

Towards which coast her love his way addrest:

There looking forth shee in her heart did find
Talus brings newes to Britomart

Many vain fancies working ber unrest;
Of Artegals mishap:

And sent her winged thoughts more swift then wind
She goes to seeke him; Dolon meetes, To beare unto her love the message of her mind.
Who seekes her to entrap.

There as she looked long, at last she spide
Some men, I wote, will deeme in Artegall One comming towards her with basty speede;
Great weaknesse, and report of him much ill, Well weend she then, ere him sbe plaine descride,
For yeelding so himselfe a wretched thrall That it was one sent from her love indeede:
To th' insolent commaund of womens will; Who when he nigh approacht, shee mote arede
That all his former praise doth fowly spill: That it was Talus, Artegall his groome:
But he the man, that say or doe so dare,

Whereat her hart was fild with hope and drede;
Be well adviz'd that he stand stedfast still; Ne would she stay till he in place could come,
For never yet was wight so well aware,

But ran to meete him forth to know bis tidings But he at first or last was trapt in womens snare.


[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]


Even in the dore bim meeting, she begun; “ Ah wellaway !” sayd then the yron man,
“And where is he thy lord, and how far bence? “ That he is not the while in state to woo;
Declare at once : and hath he lost or wun?" But lies in wretched thraldome, weake and wan,
The yron man, albe he wanted sence

Not by strong hand compelled thereunto,
And sorrowes feeling, yet, with conscience

But his owne doome, that none can now andoo." Of his ill newes, did inly chill and quake,

“ Sayd I not then," quoth she, “ere-while aright; And stood still mute, as one in great suspence; That this is thinge compacte betwixt you two As if that by his silence he wouid make

Me to deceive of faith unto me plight, Her rather reade his meaning then himselfe it spake. Since that he was not forst, nor overcome in fight?" Till she againe thus sayd ; “Talus, be bold, With that he gar at large to her dilate And tell whatever it be, good or bad,

The whole discourse of his captivance sad, That from thy tongue thy bearts intent doth hold." In sort as ye have heard the same of late: To whom he thus at length; “ The tidings sad, All which when she with hard enduraunce had That I would hide, will needs I see de rad.

Heard to the end, she was right sore bestad, My lord (your love) by hard mishap doth lie With sodaine stounds of wrath and grief attone; In wretched bondage, wofully bestad."

Ne would abide, till she had aunswere made; Ay me," quoth she, “what wicked destinie! But streight herselfe did dight, and armor don, And is he vanquisht by his tyrant eveiny?" And mounting to her steede bad Talas guide her on. “ Not by that tyrant, his intended foe;

So forth she rode uppon her ready way, But by a tyraunesse," he then replide,

To seeke her knight, as Talus ber did guide: " That him captived hath in haplesse woe.” Sadly she rode, and never word did say “ Cease thou, bad newes-man; badly doest thou hide Nor good nor bad, ne ever lookt aside, Thy maisters shame, in hariots bondage tide; But still right downe; and in her thyight did hide The rest myselfe too readily can spell.”

The felnesse of her heart, right fully bent With that in rage she turn'd from him aside, To fierce avengement of that womans pride, Forcing in vaine the rest to her to tell;

Which bad her lord in her base prison pent, And to her chamber went like solitary cell. And so great honour with so fowle reproch had blent. There she began to make her moanefull plaint So as she thus melancholicke did ride, Against her knight for being so untrew;

Chawing the cud of griefe and inward paine, And him to touch with falshoods fowle attaint, She cbaunst to meete toward the even-tide That all his other honour overthrew.

A knight, that softly paced on the plaine, Oft did she blame herselfe, and often rew,

As if himselfe to solace he were faine : For yeelding to a straungers love so light,

Well shot in yeares he seem'd, and rather bent Whose life and manners straunge she never knew; To peace then needlesse trouble to constraine ; And evermore she did him sharpely twight As well by view of that his vestiment, For breach of faith to her, which he had firmely As by his modest semblant, that no evill mento plight.

He comming neare gan gently her salute And then she iu her wrathfull will did cast

With curteous words, in the most comely wize; How to revenge that blot of honour blent,

Who though desirous rather to rest mute, To fight with him, and goodly die her last : Then termes to entertaine of common guize, And then againe she did herselfe torment,

Yet rather then she kindnesse would despize, Inflicting on herselfe his punishment.

She would herselfe displease, so him requite. Awbile she walkt, and chauft ; awhile she threw Then gan the other further to devize Herselfe uppon her bed, and did lament:

Of things abrode, as next to hand did light, (light: Yet did she not lament with loude alew, [few. And many things demaund, to which she answer'd As women wont, but with deepe sigbes and singulfs

For little lust had she to talke of onght, Like as a wayward childe, whose sounder sleepe Or ought to heare that mote delightfull bee; Is broken with some fearefull dreames affright, Her minde was whole possessed of one thought, With froward will doth set himselfe to weepe, That gave none other place. Which when as hee Ne can he stild for all his nurses might,

By outward signes (as well he might) did see, But kicks, and squals, and shriekes for fell despight; He list no lenger to use lothfull speach, Now scratching her, and her loose locks misusing, But her besought to take it well in gree, Now seek'ng darkenesse, and now seeking light, Sith shady dampe bad dimd the Heavens reach, Then craving sucke, and then the sucke refusing : To lodge with him that night, unles good cause emSuch was this ladies fit in her loves fond accusing. peach. But wben she had with such unquiet fits

The championesse, now seeing night at dore, Herself there close amicted long in vaine,

Was glad to yeeld unto his good request;
Yet found no easement in her troubled wits, And with him went without gaine-saying more.
She unto Talus forth return'd againe,

Not farre away, but little wide by west,
By change of place seeking to ease her paine ; His dwelling was, to which he him addrest;
And gan enquire of him with mylder mood

Where soone arriving they received were
The certaine cause of Artegals detaine,

In seemely wise, as them beseemed best; And what he did, and in what state he stood, For he their host them goodly well did cheare, And whether he did woo, or whether he were wood. And talk't of pleasant things the night away to weare.

« EdellinenJatka »