"To all which cruell tyranny, they say, He is provokt, and stird up day and night By his bad wife that hight Adicia;

Who counsels him, through confidence of might,
To breake all bonds of law and rules of right:

For she herselfe professeth mortall foe
To Justice, and against her still doth fight,
Working, to all that love her, deadly woe,
And making all her knights and people to doe so.

"Which my liege lady seeing, thought it best
With that his wife in friendly wise to deale,
For stint of strife and stablishment of rest
Both to herselfe and to her common-weale,
And all forepast displeasures to repeale.
So me in message unto her she sent,
To treat with her, by way of enterdeale,
of finall peace and faire attonement

Which might concluded be by mutuall consent.

"All times have wont safe passage to afford
To messengers that come for causes iust:
But this proude dame, disdayning all accord,
Not onely into bitter termes forth brust,
Reviling me and rayling as she lust,

But lastly, to make proofe of utmost shame,
Me like a dog she out of dores did thrust,
Miscalling me by many a bitter name,
That never did ber ill, ne once deserved blame.

"And lastly, that no shame might wanting be,
When I was gone, soone after me she sent
These two false knights, whom there ye lying see,
To be by them dishonoured and shent:
But, thankt be God, and your good hardiment!
They have the price of their owne folly payd."
So said this damzeil, that hight Samient;
And to those knights for their so noble ayd
Herselfe most gratefull shew'd, and heaped thanks
repayd.

But they now having throughly heard and seene
All those great wrongs, the which that mayd com-
To have bene done against her lady queene [plained
By that proud dame, which her so much disdained,
Were moved much thereat, and twixt them fained
With all their force to worke avengement strong
Uppon the Souldan selfe, which it mayntained,
And on his lady, th' author of that wrong,
And uppon all those knights that did to her belong.

But, thinking best by counterfet disguise
To their deseigne to make the easier way,
They did this complot twixt themselves devise:
First, that sir Artegall should him array

Like one of those two knights which dead there lay;
And then that damzell, the sad Samient,
Should as his purchast prize with him convay
Unto the Souldans court, her to present
Unto his scornefull lady that for her had sent.

So as they had deviz'd, sir Artegall
Him clad in th' armour of a Pagan knight,
And taking with him, as his vanquisht thrall,
That damzell, led her to the Souldans right:
Where soone as his proud wife of her had sight,
Forth of her window as she looking lay,
She weened streight it was her Paynim knight,
Which brought that damzell as his purchast pray;
And sent to him a page that mote direct his way:

Who, bringing them to their appointed place,
Offred his service to disarme the knight;
But he refusing him to et unlace,

For doubt to be discovered by his sight,

Kept himselfe still in his straunge armour dight:
Soone after whom the prince arrived there,
And, sending to the Souldan in despight
A bold defyance, did of him requere

That damzell whom he held as wrongfull prisonere.

Wherewith the Souldan all with furie fraught,
Swearing and banning most blasphemously,
Commaunded straight his armour to be brought;
And, mounting straight upon a charret hye,
(With yron wheeles and hookes arm'd dreadfully,
And drawne of cruell steedes which he had fed
With flesh of men, whom through fell tyranny
He slaughtred had, and ere they were halfe ded
Their bodies to his beastes for provender did spred;})

So forth he came all in a cote of plate
Burnisht with bloudie rust; whiles on the greene
The Briton prince him readie did awayte
In glistering armes right goodly well beseene,
That shone as bright as doth the Heaven sheene
And by his stirrup Talus did attend,
Playing his pages part, as he had beene
Before directed by his lord; to th' end
He should his flaile to finall execution bend.

Thus goe they both together to their geare
With like fierce minds, but meanings different:
For the proud Souldan, with presumptuous cheare
And countenance sublime and insolent,
Sought onely slaughter and avengement;
But the brave prince for honour and for right,
Gainst tortious powre and lawlesse regiment,
In the behalfe of wronged weake did fight:
More in his causes truth he trusted then in might.

Like to the Thracian tyrant, who they say
Unto his horses gave his guests for meat,
Till he himselfe was made their greedie pray,
And torne in pieces by Acides great;
So thought the Souldan, in his follies threat,
Either the prince in peeces to have torne
With his sharpe wheeles in his first rages heat,
Or under his fierce horses feet have borne,
And trampled downe in dust his thoughts disdained

scorne.

But the bold child that perill well espying,
If he too rashly to his charret drew,
Gave way unto his horses speedie flying,
And their resistlesse rigour did eschew:
Yet, as he passed by, the Pagan threw
A shivering dart with so impetuous force,
That, had he not it shunn'd with heedfull.vew,
It had himselfe transfixed or his horse, [morse
Or made them both one masse withouten more re-

Oft drew the prince unto his charret nigh,
In hope some stroke to fasten on him neare;
But he was mounted in his seat so high,
And his wing-footed coursers him did beare
So fast away, that, ere his readie speare
He could advance, he farre was gone and past;
Yet still be him did follow every where,
And followed was of him likewise full fast,
So long as in his steedes the flaming breath did last

Againe the Pagan threw another dart,
Of which he had with him abundant store
On every side of his embatteld cart,
And of all other weapons lesse or more,
Which warlike uses had deviz'd of yore:

The wicked shaft, guyded through th' ayrie wyde
By some bad spirit that it to misch efe bore,
Stayd not, till through his curat it did glyde,
And made a griesly wound in his enriven side.

Much was he grieved with that haplesse throe,
That opened had the welspring of his blood;
But much the more that to his hatefull foe
He mote not come to wreake his wrathfull mood:
That made him rave, like to a lyon wood,
Which being wounded of the huntsmans hand
Cannot come neare him in the covert wood,
Where he with boughes hath built his shady stand,
And fenst himselfe about with many a flaming brand.

Still when he sought t'approch unto him ny
His charret wheeles about hin whirled round,
And made him backe againe as fast to fly;
And eke his steedes, like to an hungry hound
That hunting after game hath carrion found,
So cruelly did him pursew and chace,
That his good steed, all were he much renound
For noble courage and for hardie race, [place.
Durst not endure their sight, but fled from place to

Thus long they trast and traverst to and fro,
Seeking by every way to make some breach;
Yet could the prince not nigh unto him goe,
That one sure stroke he might unto him reach,
Whereby his strengthes assay he might him teach:
At last, from his victorious shield he drew
The vaile, which did his powrefull light empeach;
And comming ful before his horses vew,

As they upon him prest, it plaine to them did shew.

Like lightening flash that hath the gazer burned,
So did the sight thereof their sense dismay,
That backe againe upon themselves they turned,
And with their ryder ranne perforce away:
Ne could the Souldan them from flying stay
With raynes or wonted rule, as well he knew:
Nought feared they what he could do or say,
But th' onely feare that was before their vew;
From which like mazed deere dismayfully they flew.

Fast did they fly as them there feete could beare
High over hilles, and lowly over dales,
As they were follow'd of their former feare:
In vaine the Pagan bannes, and sweares, and rayles,
And backe with both h's hands unto him hayles
The resty raynes, regarded now no more:
He to them calles and speakes, yet nought avayles;
They heare-him not, they have forgot his lore;
But go which way they list; their guide they have
forlore.

As when the firie-mouthed steedes, which drew
The Sunnes bright wayne to Phaetons decay,
Soone as they did the monstrous scorpion vew
With ugly craples crawling in their way,
The dreadfull sight did them so sore affray,
That their well-knowen courses they forwent;
And, leading th' ever burning lampe astray,
This lower world nigh all to ashes brent,

And left their scorched path yet in the firmament.

Yet still the prince pursew'd him close behind,
Oft making offer him to smite, but found
No easie meanes according to his mind:
At last they have all overthrowne to ground
Quite topside turvey, and the Pagan hound
Amongst the yron hookes and graples keene
Torne all to rags, and rent with many a wound;
That no whole peece of him was to be seene,
But scattred all about, and strow'd upon the greene.

Like as the cursed sonne of Theseus,
That following his chace in dewy morne,
To fly his stepdames love outrageous,
Of his owne steedes was all to peeces torne,
And his faire limbs left in the woods forlorne;
That for his sake Diana did lament,

And all the woody nymphes did wayle and mourne:
So was this Souldain rapt and all to rent,
That of his shape appear'd no litle moniment.

Onely his shield and armour, which there lay,
Though nothing whole, but all to brus'd and broken,
He
up did take, and with him brought away,
That mote remaine for an eternall token
To all, mongst whom this storie should be 'spoken,
How worthily, by Heavens high decree,
Iustice that day of wrong herselfe had wroken;
That all men, which that spectacle did see,
By like ensample mote for ever warned bee.

So on a tree, before the tyrants dore,
He caused them be hung in all mens sight,
To be a moniment for evermore.
Which when his ladie from the castles hight
Beheld, it much appald her troubled spright:
Yet not, as women wout, in dolefull fit
She was dismayd, or faynted through affright,
But gathered unto her her troubled wit,
And gan eftsoones devize to be aveng'd for it.

Streight downe she ranne, like an enraged cow
That is berobbed of her youngling dere,
With knife in hand, and fatally did vow
To wreake her on that mayden messengere,
Whom she had causd be kept as prisonere
By Artegall, misween'd for her owne knight,
That brought her backe: and, comming present
there,

She at her ran with all her force and might,
All flaming with revenge and furious despight,

Like raging Ino, when with knife in hand
She threw her husbands murdred infant out;
Or fell Medea, when on Colchicke strand
Her brothers bones she scattered all about;
Or as that madding mother, mongst the rout
Of Bacchus priests, her owne deare flesh did teare:
Yet neither Ino, nor Medea stout,

Nor all the Monades so furious were,

As this bold woman when she saw that damzell there,

But Artegall being thereof aware

Did stay her cruell hand ere she her raught;
And, as she did herselfe to strike prepare,
Out of her fist the wicked weapon caught:
With that, like one enfelon'd or distraught,
She forth did rome whether her rage her bore,
With franticke passion and with furie fraught;
And, breaking forth out at a posterne dore,
Unto the wilde wood ranne, her dolours to deplore:

As a mad bytch, whenas the franticke fit
Her burning tongue with rage inflamed hath,
Doth runne at randon, and with furious bit
Snatching at every thing doth wreake her wrath
On man and beast that commeth in her path.
There they doe say that she transformed was
Into a tygre, and that tygres scath
In crueltie and outrage she did pas,

To prove her surname true, that she imposed has.

Then Artegall, himselfe discovering plaine,
Did issue forth gainst all that warlike rout
Of knights and armed men, which did maintaine
That ladies part and to the Souldan lout:
All which he did assault with courage stout,
All were they nigh an hundred knights of name,
And like wyld goates them chaced all about,
Flying from place to place with cowheard shame;
So that with finall force them all he overcame.

Then caused he the gates be opened wyde;
And there the prince, as victour of that day,
With tryumph entertayn'd and glorifyde,
Presenting him with all the rich array
And roiall pomp, which there long hidden lay,
Purchast through lawlesse powre and tortious wrong,
Of that proud Souldan, whom he earst did slay.
So both, for rest, there having stayd not long,
Marcht with that mayd; fit matter for another
song.

CANTO IX.

Arthur and Artegall catch Guyle
Whom Talus doth dismay:
They to Mercillaes pallace come,
And see her rich array.

WHAT tygre, or what other salvage wight,
Is so exceeding furious and fell

As Wrong, when it hath arm'd itselfe with might?
Not fit mongst men that doe with reason mell,
But mongst wyld beasts, and salvage woods, to dwell;
Where still the stronger doth the weake devoure,
And they that most in boldnesse doe excell

Are dreadded most, and feared for their powre;
Fit for Adicia there to build her wicked bowre.

There let her wonne, farre from resort of men,
Where righteous Artegall her late exyled;
There let her ever keepe her damned den,
Where none may be with her lewd parts defyled,
Nor none but beasts may be of her despoyled:
And turne we to the noble prince, where late
We did him leave, after that he had foyled
The cruell Souldan, and with dreadfull fate
Had utterly subverted his unrighteous state.

Where having with sir Artegall a space
Well solast in that Souldans late delight,
They both, resolving now to leave the place,
Both it and all the wealth therein behight
Unto that damzell and her ladies right,
And so would have departed on their way:
But she them woo'd, by all the meanes she might,
And earnestly besought to wend that day
With her, to see her ladie thence not farre away.
By whose entreatie both they overcommen
Agree to goe with her; and by the way,
As often falles, of sundry things did commen;
Mongst which that damzell did to them bewray
A straunge adventure which not farre thence lay;
To weet, a wicked villaine, bold and stout,
Which wonned in a rocke not farre away,
That robbed all the countrie thereabout,
And brought the pillage home, whence none could
get it out.

Thereto both his owne wylie wit, she sayd,
And eke the fastnesse of his dwelling place,
Both unassaylable, gave him great ayde:
For he so crafty was to forge and face,
So light of hand, and nymble of his pace,
So smooth of tongue, and subtile in his tale,
That could deceive one looking in his face:
Therefore by name Malengin they him call,
Well knowen by his feates, and famous over all.
Through these his slights he many doth confound:
And eke the rocke, in which he wonts to dwell,
Is wondrous strong and hewn farre under ground,
A dreadfull depth, how deepe no man can tell;
But some doe say it goeth downe to Hell:
And, all within, it full of wyndings is
And hidden wayes, that scarse an hound by smell
Can follow out those false footsteps of his,
Ne none can backe returne that once are gone amis.
Which when those knights had heard, their hearts
gan earne

To understand that villeins dwelling place,
And greatly it desir'd of her to learne,

And by which way they towards it should trace.
"Were not," sayd she, "that it should let your
Towards my ladies presence by you ment, [pace
I would you guyde directly to the place."
"Then let not that," said they," stay your intent;
For neither will one foot, till we that carle have
hent."

So forth they past, till they approched ny
Unto the rocke where was the villeins won:
Which when the damzell neare at hand did spy,
She warn'd the knights thereof: who thereupon
Gan to advize what best were to be done.
So both agreed to send that mayd afore,
Where she might sit nigh to the den alone,
Wayling, and raysing pittifull uprore,
As if she did some great calamitie deplore.
With noyse whereof whenas the caytive carle
Should issue forth, in hope to find some spoyle,
They in awayt would closely him ensnarle,
Ere to his den he backward could recoyle;
And so would hope him easily to foyle.
The damzell straight went, as she was directed,
Unto the rocke; and there, upon a soyle
Having herselfe in wretched wize abiected, [fected.
Gan weepe and wayle as if great griefe had her af-