Having her thus disarmed of her shield,
Upon her helmet he againe her strooke,
That downe she fell upon the grassie field
In sencelesse swoune, as if her life forsooke,
And pangs of death her spirit overtooke:
Whom when he saw before his foote prostrated,
He to her lept with deadly dreadfull looke,
And her sun-shynie helmet soone unlaced,

Tho with her sword on him she flatling strooke,
In signe of true subiection to her powre,
And as her vassall him to thraldome tooke:
But Terpine, borne to' a more unhappy howrê,
As he on whom the lucklesse starres did lowre,
She causd to be attacht and forthwith led
Unto the crooke, t' abide the balefull stowre
From which he lately had through reskew fled:

raeed.

But, whenas he discovered had her face,
He saw, his senses straunge astonishment,
A miracle of Natures goodly grace
In her faire visage voide of ornament,
But bath'd in blond and sweat together ment;
Which, in the rudenesse of that evill plight,
Bewrayd the signes of feature excellent:

Like as the Moone, in foggie winters night, [light.
Doth seeme to be herselfe, though darkned be her

At sight thereof his cruell minded hart
Empierced was with pittifull regard,
That his sharpe sword he threw from him apart,
Cursing his hand that had that visage mard:
No hand so cruell, nor no hart so hard,
But ruth of beautie will it mollifie.
By this, upstarting from her swoune she star'd
A while about her with confused eye;

Like one that from his dreame is waked suddenlye.
Soone as the knight she there by her did spy
Standing with emptie hands all weaponlesse,
With fresh assault upon him she did fly,
And gan renew her former cruelnesse:
And though he still retyr'd, yet nathëlesse
With huge redoubled strokes she on him layd;
And more increast her outrage mercilesse,
The more that he with meeke intreatie prayd
Her wrathful hand from greedy vengeance to have
stayd.

Like as a puttocke having spyde in sight
A gentle faulcon sitting on an hill,
Whose other wing, now made unmeete for flight,
Was lately broken by some fortune ill;
The foolish kyte, led with licentious will,
Doth beat upon the gentle bird in vaine,
With many idle stoups her troubling still:
Even so did Radigund with bootlesse paine
Annoy this noble knight, and sorely him constraine.
Nought could he do but shun the dred despight
Of her fierce wrath, and backward still retyre;
And with his single shield, well as he might,
Beare off the burden of her raging yre;
And evermore he gently did desyre

To stay her strokes, and he himselfe would yield:
Yet nould she hearke, ne let him once respyre,
Till he to her delivered had his shield,
And to her mercie him submitted in plaine field.

So was he overcome, not overcome;
But to her yeelded of his owne accord;
Yet was he justly damned by the doome

Of his owne mouth, that spake so warelesse word,
To be her thrall and service her afford:
For though that he first victorie obtayned,
Yet after, by abandoning his sword,
He wilfull lost that he before attayned:

No fayrer conquest then that with goodwill is gayned.
VOL. III.

But, when they thought on Talus hands to lay,
He with his yron flaile amongst them thondred,
That they were fayne to let him scape away,
Glad from his companie to be so gondred;
Whose presence all their troups so much encombred,
That th' heapes of those which he did wound and

slay,

Besides the rest dismayd, might not be nombred:
Yet all that while he would not once assay
To reskew his owne lord, but thought it iust t'obay.

Then tooke the Amazon this noble knight,
Left to her will by his owne wilfull blame,
And caused him to be disarmed quight
Of all the ornaments of knightly name,
With which whylome he gotten had great fame:
Instead whereof she made him to be dight
In womans weedes, that is to manhood shame,
And put before his lap an apron white,
Instead of curiets and bases fit for fight.

So being clad she brought him from the field,
In which he had bene trayned many a day,
Into a long large chamber, which was field
With moniments of many knights decay
By her subdewed in victorious fray:
Amongst the which she causd his warlike armes
Be hang'd on high, that mote his shame bewray;
And broke his sword for feare of further harmes,
With which he wont to stirre up battailous alarmes.

[knew.

There entred in he round about him saw
Many brave knights whose names right well he
There bound t' obay that Amazons proud law,
Spinning and carding all in comely rew,
That his bigge hart loth'd so uncomely vew:
But they were forst, through penurie and pyne,
To doe those workes to them appointed dew:
For nought was given them to sup or dyne, [twyne.
But what their hands could earne by twisting linnen

Amongst them all she placed him most low,
And in his hand a distaffe to him gave,
That he thereon should spin both flax and tow;
A sordid office for a mind so brave:
So hard it is to be a womans slave!
Yet he it tooke in his owne selfes despight,
And thereto did himselfe right well behave
Her to obay, sith he his faith had plight
Her vassall to become, if she him wonne in fight.

"But what so stonie minde," she then replyde,
"But if in his owne powre occasion lay,
Would to his hope a windowe open wyde,
And to his fortunes helpe make readie way?"
"Unworthy sure," quoth he, " of better day,
That will not take the offer of good hope,
And eke pursew, if he attaine it may,"
Which speaches she applying to the scope
Of her intent, this further purpose to him shope:

"Then why doest not, thou ill-advized man,
Make meanes to win thy libertie forlorne,
And try if thou by faire entreatie can
Move Radigund? who though she still have worne
Her dayes in warre, yet (weet thou) was not borne
Of beares and tygres, nor so salvage mynded
As that, albe all love of men she scorne,
She yet forgets that she of men was kynded:
And sooth oft seene that proudest harts base love
hath blynded."

"Certes, Clarinda, not of cancred will,"
Sayd he, "nor obstinate disdainefull mind,
I have forbore this duetie to fulfill:
For well I may this weene, by that I fynd,
That she a queene, and come of princely kynd,
Both worthie is for to be sewd unto,
Chiefely by him whose life her law doth bynd,
And eke of powre her owne doome to undo,
And als' of princely grace to be inclyn'd thereto.

"But want of meanes hath bene mine onely let
From seeking favour where it doth abound;
Which if I might by your good office get,
I to yourselfe should rest for ever bound,
And ready to deserve what grace I found."
She feeling him thus bite upon the bayt,
Yet doubting least his hold was but unsound
And not well fastened, would not strike him strayt,
But drew him on with hope, fit leasure to awayt.

But foolish mayd, whyles heedlesse of the hooke
She thus oft-times was beating off and on,
Through slipperie footing fell into the brooke,
And there was caught to her confusion:
For, seeking thus to salve the Amazon,
She wounded was with her deceipts owne dart,
And gan thenceforth to cast affection,
Conceived close in her beguiled hart,

To Artegall, through pittie of his causelesse smart,

Yet durst she not disclose her fancies wound,
Ne to himselfe, for doubt of being sdayned,
Ne yet to any other wight on ground,

[ed;

For feare her mistresse shold have knowledge gayn-
But to herselfe it secretly retayned
Within the closet of her covert brest:
The more thereby her tender hart was payned:
Yet to awayt fit time she weened best,

But sayd, that he was obstinate and sterne,
Scorning her offers and conditions vaine;
Ne would be taught with any termes to lerne
So fond a lesson as to love againe:
Die rather would he in penurious paine,
And his abridged dayes in dolour wast,
Then his foes love or liking entertaine:
His resolution was, both first and last,
His bodie was her thrall, his hart was freely plast.
Which when the cruell Amazon perceived,
She gan to storme, and rage, and rend her gall,
For very fell despight, which she conceived,
To be so scorned of a base-borne thrall,
Whose life did lie in her least eye-lids fall;
Of which she vow'd with many a cursed threat,
That she therefore would him ere long forstall.
Nathlesse, when calmed was her furious heat,
She chang'd that threatfull mood, and mildly gan

entreat:

"Some of his diet doe from him withdraw ;
For I him find to be too proudly fed:
Give him more labour, and with streighter law,
That he with worke may be forwearied:
Let him lodge hard, and lie in strawen bed,
That may pull downe the courage of his pride;
And lay upon him, for his greater dread,
Cold yron chaines with which let him be tide;
And let, whatever he desires, be him denide.

"When thou hast all this doen, then bring me newes
Of his demeane; thenceforth not like a lover,
But like a rebell stout, I will him use:
For I resolve this siege not to give over,
Till I the conquest of my will recover."
So she departed full of griefe and sdaine,
Which inly did to great impatience move her:
But the false mayden shortly turn'd againe

One day her ladie, calling her apart,
Gan to demaund of her some tydings good,
Touching her loves successe, her lingring smart:
Therewith she gan at first to change her mood,
As one adaw'd, and halfe confused stood;
But quickly she it overpast, so soone
As she her face had wypt to fresh her blood:
Tho gan she tell her all that she had donne, [wonne.
And all the wayes she sought his love for to have

There all her subtill nets she did unfold,
And all the engins of her wit display;
In which she meant him warelesse to enfold,
And of his innocence to make her pray.
So cunningly she wrought her crafts assay,
That both her ladie, and herselfe withall,
And eke the knight attonce she did betray;
But most the knight, whom she with guilefull call
Did cast for to allure, into her trap to fall.

As a bad nurse, which, fayning to receive
In her owne mouth the food ment for her chyld,
Withholdes it to herselfe, and doeth deceive
The infant, so for want of nourture spoyid;
Even so Clarinda her owne dame beguyid,
And turn'd the trust, which was in her affyde,
To feeding of her private fire, which boyld
Her inward brest, and in her entrayles fryde,
The more that she it sought to cover and to hyde.

For, comming to this knight, she purpose fayned,
How earnest suit she earst for him had made
Unto her queene, his freedome to have gayned;
But by no meanes could her thereto perswade,
But that instead thereof she sternely bade
His miserie to be augmented more,
And many yron bands on him to lade;
All which nathlesse she for his love forbore:
So praying him t' accept her service evermore.

And, more then that, she promist that she would,
In case she might finde favour in his eye,
Devize how to enlarge him out of hould.
The Fayrie, glad to gaine his l.bertie,
Can yeeld great thankes for such her curtesie;
And with faire words, fit for the time and place,
To feede the humour of her maladie,
Promist, if she would free him from that case,
He wold by all good means he might deserve such
grace.

So daily he faire semblant did her shew,
Yet never meant he in his noble mind
To his owne absent love to be untrew:
Ne ever did deceiptfuli Clarin find

In her false hart his bondage to unbind;
But rather how she mote him faster tye.
Therefore unto her mistresse most unkind
She daily told her love he did defye;

And him she told her dame his freedome did denye.

Yet thus much friendship she to him did show,
That his scarse diet somewhat was amended,
And his worke lessened, that his love mote grow:
Yet to her dame him still she discommended,
That she with him mote be the more offended.
Thus he long while in thraldome there remayned,
Of both beloved well, but little friended;
Untill his owne true love his freedome gayned:
Which in another canto will be best contayned.

CANTO VI.

Talus brings newes to Britomart
Of Artegals mishap :

She goes to seeke him; Dolon meetes,
Who seekes her to entrap.

SOME men, I wote, will deeme in Artegall
Great weaknesse, and report of him much ill,
For yeelding so himselfe a wretched thrall
To th' insolent commaund of womens will;
That all his former praise doth fowly spill:
But he the man, that say or doe so dare,
Be well adviz'd that he stand stedfast still;
For never yet was wight so well aware,

But he at first or last was trapt in womens snare.

Yet in the streightnesse of that captive state
This gentle knight himselfe so well behaved,
That notwithstanding all the subtill bait,
With which those Amazons his love still craved,
To his owne love his loialtie he saved:
Whose character in th' adamantine mould
Of his true hart so firmely was engraved,
That no new loves impression ever could [should.
Bereave it thence: such blot his honour blemish

Yet his owne love, the noble Britomart,
Scarse so conceived in her iealous thought,
What time sad tydings of his baleful! smart
In womans bondage Talus to her brought;
Brought in untimely houre, ere it was sought:
For, after that the utmost date assynde
For his returne she waited had for nought,
She gan to cast in her misdoubtfull mynde [fynde.
A thousand feares, that love-sicke fancies faine to

Sometime she feared least some hard mishap
Had him misfalne in his adventurous quest;
Sometime least his false foe did him entrap
In traytrous trayne, or had unwares opprest;
But most she did her troubled mynd molest,
And secretly afflict with iealous feare,
Least some new love had him from her possest;
Yet loth she was, since she no ill did heare,
To thinke of him so ill; yet could she not forbeare,

One whyle she blam'd herselfe; another whyle
She him condemn'd as trustlesse and untrew:
And then, her griefe with errour to begnyle,
She fayn'd to count the time againe anew,
As if before she had not counted trew:
For houres, but dayes; for weekes that passed were,
She told but moneths, to make them seeme more few:
Yet, when she reckned them still drawing neare,
Each hour did seeme a moneth, and every moneth
a yeare.

But, whenas yet she saw him not returne,
She thought to send some one to seeke him out;
But none she found so fit to serve that turne,
As her owne selfe, to ease herselfe of dout.
Now she deviz'd, amongst the warlike rout
Of errant knights, to seeke her errant knight;
And then againe resolv'd to hunt him out
Amongst loose ladies lapped in delight: [spight.
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
Many vain fancies working her unrest;

And sent her winged thoughts more swift then wind
To beare unto her love the message of her mind.

There as she looked long, at last she spide
One comming towards her with hasty speede;
Well weend she then, ere him she plaine descride,
That it was one sent from her love indeede:
Who when he nigh approacht, shee mote arede
That it was Talus, Artegall his groome:
Whereat her hart was fild with hope and drede;
Ne would she stay till he in place could come,
But ran to meete him forth to know his tidings

somme.

Even in the dore bim meeting, she begun;
"And where is he thy lord, and how far hence?
Declare at once: and hath he lost or wun ?"
The yron man, albe he wanted sence
And sorrowes feeling, yet, with conscience
Of his ill newes, did inly chill and quake,
And stood still mute, as one in great suspence;
As if that by his silence he would make

Her rather reade his meaning then himselfe it spake.

Till she againe thus sayd; "Talus, be bold,
And tell whatever it be, good or bad,

That from thy tongue thy hearts intent doth hold."
To whom he thus at length; "The tidings sad,
That I would hide, will needs I see be rad.
My lord (your love) by hard mishap doth lie
In wretched bondage, wofully bestad."
"Ay me," quoth she, "what wicked destinie!
And is he vanquisht by his tyrant enemy?"

"Ah wellaway!" sayd then the yron man,
"That he is not the while in state to woo;
But lies in wretched thraldome, weake and wan,
Not by strong hand compelled thereunto,
But his owne doome, that none can now undoo."
"Sayd I not then," quoth she, “ere-while aright,
That this is thinge compacte betwixt you two
Me to deceive of faith unto me plight,
Since that he was not forst, nor overcome in fight?”

With that he gar at large to her dilate
The whole discourse of his captivance sad,
In sort as ye have heard the same of late:
All which when she with hard enduraunce had
Heard to the end, she was right sore bestad,
With sodaine stounds of wrath and grief attone;
Ne would abide, till she had aunswere made;
But streight herselfe did dight, and armor don,
And mounting to her steede bad Talus guide her on.

So forth she rode uppon her ready way,
To seeke her knight, as Talus ber did guide:
Sadly she rode, and never word did say
Nor good nor bad, ne ever lookt aside,
But still right downe; and in her thought did hide
The felnesse of her heart, right fully bent
To fierce avengement of that womans pride,
Which had her lord in her base prison pent,
And so great honour with so fowle reproch had blent.

So as she thus melancholicke did ride,
Chawing the cud of griefe and inward paine,
She chaunst to meete toward the even-tide
A knight, that softly paced on the plaine,
As if himselfe to solace he were fame:
Well shot in yeares he seem'd, and rather bent
To peace then needlesse trouble to constraine;
As well by view of that his vestiment,
As by his modest semblant, that no evill ment.

He comming neare gan gently her salute
With curteous words, in the most comely wize;
Who though desirous rather to rest mute,
Then termes to entertaine of common guize,
Yet rather then she kindnesse would despize,
She would herselfe displease, so him requite.
Then gan the other further to devize

Of things abrode, as next to hand did light, [light:
And many things demaund, to which she answer'd

For little lust had she to talke of ought,
Or ought to heare that mote delightfull bee;
Her minde was whole possessed of one thought,
That gave none other place. Which when as hee
By outward signes (as well he might) did see,
He list no lenger to use lothfull speach,
But her besought to take it well in gree,
Sith shady dampe had dimd the Heavens reach,
To lodge with him that night, unles good cause em-
peach.

The championesse, now seeing night at dore,
Was glad to yeeld unto his good request;
And with him went without gaine-saying more.
Not farre away, but little wide by west,
His dwelling was, to which he him addrest;
Where soone arriving they received were
In seemely wise, as them beseemed best;
For he their host them goodly well did cheare,
And talk't of pleasant things the night away to weare.