 Canto 5. Book 5. The Legend of Artigal. So soon as day forth dawning from the east, night's humid curtain from the heavens withdrew, and early calling forth both man and beast, commanded them their daily works renew these noble warriors mindful to pursue the last day's purpose of their vowed fight, themselves thereto prepared in order due, the night as best was seeming for a night, and the Amazon as best it liked herself to-dite. All in a camis light of purple silk woven upon with silver subtly wrought, and quilted upon satin white as milk, trailed with ribbons diversely distraught, like as the workmen had their courses taught, which was short-tucked for light motion, up to her ham, but when she list it wrought, down to her lowest heel and there upon, she wore for her defence a mailed hebergion. And on her legs she painted Buskin's war, basted with bands of gold on every side, and mails between and laced close of four. Upon her thigh her scimitar was tied with an embroidered belt of nickel-pride, and on her shoulder hung her shield bedecked upon the boss with stones that shined wide, as the fair moon and her most full aspect, that to the moon it moat be like in each respect. So forth she came out of the city gate, with stately port and proud magnificence, guarded with many damsels that did wade upon her person for her sure defence, playing on shams and trumpets that from hence their sound did reach unto the heavens height. So forth into the field she marched advance, where was a rich pavilion ready pite, her to receive till time they should begin the fight. Then forth came Artigal out of his tent, all armed to point, and first the lists did enter. Soon after Eek came she with felon tent, and countenance fierce, as having fully bent her, that battles at most trial to invent her. The lists were closed fast to bar the route from rudely pressing to the middle centre, which in great heaps them circled all about, waiting how fortune would resolve that dangerous doubt. The trumpet sounded, and the field began. With bitter strokes it both began and ended. She, at the first encounter, on him ran, with furious rage as if she had intended, out of his breast, the very heart have rendered. But he, that had, like tempests, often tried, from that first flaw himself right well defended. The more she raged, the more he did abide. She hewed, she foined, she lashed, she laid on every side. Yet still her blows he bore, and her forebore, weaning at last to win advantage new. Yet still her cruelty increased more, and though power failed her courage did accrue, which failing he again fiercely her pursue, like as a smith that to his cunning feet, the stubborn metal seeketh to subdue, soon as he feels it mollified with heat, with his great iron sledge doth strongly on it beat. So did Sir Artigal upon her lay, as if she had an iron anvil bin, that flakes of fire, bright as the sunny ray, out of her steely arms were flashing seen, that all on fire ye would her surely wean. But, with her shield so well herself she warded, from the dread danger of his weapon keen, that all that while her life she safely guarded, but he that help from her against her will discarded. For, with his trenchant blade, at the next blow, half of her shield he shared quite a way, that half her side itself did naked show, and then force unto danger opened way. Much was she moved with the mighty sway of that sad stroke, that half enraged she grew, and like a greedy bear unto her prey, with her sharp scimitar at him she flew, that glancing down his thigh the purple blood forth drew. Thereat she began to triumph with great boast, and to upbrade that chance which him misspelled, as if the prize she gotten had almost, with spiteful speeches fitting with her well, that his great heart again inwardly to swell with indignation at her vaunting vein, and at her struke with poisons fearful fell, yet with her shield she warded it again, that shattered all two pieces round about the plane. Having her thus disarmed of her shield, upon her helmet he again her struke, that down she fell upon the grassy field, and senseless swoon as if her life forsook, and pangs of death her spirit overtook. Whom, when he saw before his foot prostrated, he to her leapt with deadly dreadful look, and her sun-shiny helmet soon unlaced, thinking at once both head and helmet to erase it. But when, as he discovered, had her face, he saw his senses strange astonishment, a miracle of nature's goodly grace, and her fair visage void of ornament, but bathed in blood and sweat together meant, which in the rudeness of that evil plight berayed the signs of feature excellent, like as the moon in foggy winter's night doth seem to be herself, though darkened be her light. At sight thereof his cruel-minded heart in piercid was with pitiful regard, that his sharp sword he threw from him apart, cursing his hand that had that visage marred. No hand so cruel, nor no heart so hard, but roof of beauty will it mollify. By this, upstarting from her swoon, she stared awhile about her, with confused eye, like one that from his dream is waked suddenly. Soon as the night she there by her did spy, standing with empty hands all weaponless, with fresh assault upon him she did fly, and Gann renew her former cruelness. And though he still retired, yet nevertheless with huge redoubled strokes she on him laid, and more increased her outrage merciless the more that he, with meek entreaty, prayed her wrathful hand from greedy vengeance to have stayed. Like as a puttuck having spied in sight, a gentle falcon sitting on an hill, whose other wing, now made unmeet for flight, was lately broken by some fortune ill, the foolish kite led with licentious will doth beat upon the gentle bird in vain, with many idle stoops her troubling still. Even so did Radigand, with bootless pain, annoy this noble night and sorely him constrain. Not could he do, but shun the dread despite of her fierce wrath and backward still retire, and with his single shield well as he might, bear off the burden of her raging ire, and evermore he gently did desire to stay her strokes, and he himself would yield. Yet nod she hark, nor let him once respire, till he to her delivered had his shield, and to her mercy him submitted in plain field. So was he overcome, not overcome, but to her yielded of his own accord, yet was he justly damned by the doom of his own mouth, that spake so wearless a word, to be her thrawl and service her afford. For though that he first victory obtained, yet after by abandoning his sword, he willful lost that he before attained it. No fair conquest than that with good will is gained. Though with her sword on him she fladdling stroke, in sign of true subjection to her power, and as her vassal him to thrall them took. But Turpine, born to more unhappy hour, as he, on whom the luckless stars did lower, she caused to be attached, and forthwith led unto the crook to abide the baleful stower, from which he lately had through rescue fled, where he full shamefully was hanged by the head. But when they thought, on talus hands to lay, he with his iron flail amongst them thundered, that they were feigned to let him escape away, glad from his company to be so sundered, whose presence all their troops so much encumbered that the heaps of those which he did wound and slay, besides the rest dismayed, might not be numbered. Yet all that while he would not once assay to rescue his own lord, but thought it just to be. Then took the Amazon this noble knight left to her will by his own willful blame, and caused him to be disarm'd quite, of all the ornaments of nightly name, with which while him he gotten had great fame, instead whereof she made him to be diet in women's weeds, that is to manhood shame, and put before his lap an apron white, instead of curiots and bases fit for fight. So being clad, she brought him from the field, in which he had been trained many a day, into a long large chamber, which was sealed with monuments of many knights decay, by her subdued in victorious fray. Amongst the witch she caused his warlike arms be hang'd on high, that moat his shame beret, and broke his sword, for fear of further harms, with which he wants to stir up battleous alarms. There entered in, he round about him saw many brave knights, whose names write well he knew, they're bound to obey that Amazon's proud law, spinning and carting all in comely rue, that his big heart loathed so uncomely view. But they were forced, through penury and pine, to do those works to them appointed due, for not was given them to supp or dine, but what their hands could earn by twisting linen twine. Amongst them all she placed him most low, and in his hand the staff to him gave, that he thereon should spin both flax and toe, a sordid office, for a mind so brave, so hard it is to be a woman's slave. Yet he it took in his own self's despite, and there too did himself write well behave, her to obey, sith he his faith had plight, her vassal to become, if she him won in fight. Who had him seen imagined moat thereby, that while him hath of Hercules been told, how for Yola's sake he did apply his mighty hands the distaff vile to hold, for his huge club, which had subdued of old so many monsters, which the world annoyed. His lion's skin changed to a pall of gold, in which forgetting wars he only joyed in combats of sweet love, and with his mistress toyed. Such is the cruelty of womankind. When they have shaken off the shamefast band, with which wise nature did them strongly bind, to obey the heasts of man's well-ruling hand, that then all rule and reason they withstand, to purchase a licentious liberty. But virtuous women wisely understand that they were born to obey humility, unless the heavens them lift to lawful sovereignty. Thus their long while continued Artigal, serving proud radigand with true subjection. However it his noble heart did gall to obey a woman's tyrannous direction that might have had of life or death election. But having chosen, now he might not change. During which time the warlike Amazon, whose wandering fancy after lust did range, again cast a secret liking to this captive strange. Which long concealing in her covert breast she chawed the cud of lover's careful plight. Yet could it not so thoroughly digest, being fast fixed in her wounded sprite, but it tormented her both day and night. Yet would she not there to yield free accord, to serve the lowly vassal of her might, and her servant make her sovereign lord, so great her pride that she such baseness much abhorred. So much the greater still her anguish grew, through stubborn handling of her lovesick heart, and still the more she strove it to subdue, the more she still augmented her own smart, and wider made the wound of the hidden dart. Had last when long she struggled had in vain, she began to stoop and her proud mind convert to meek obeisance of love's mighty reign, and him entreat for grace that had procured her pain. Unto herself in secret she did call her nearest handmaid, whom she most did trust. And to her said, Clarinda, whom of all I trust alive, sith I thee fostered first, now is the time that I untimely must thereof make trial in my greatest need. It is so happened that the heavens, unjust, spiting my happy freedom, have agreed to thrall my looser life or my last bale to breed. With that she turned her head as half a vassal to hide the blush which in her visage rose, and threw her eyes like sudden lightning flashed, decking her cheek with a vermilion rose. But soon she did her countenance compose, and to her turning thus began again. This grief's deep wound I would to thee disclose, there too compelled through heart-murdering pain, but dread of shame my doubtful lips doth still restrain. Ah, my dear dread, said then the faithful maid, can dread of ought your dreadless heart withhold, that may hath with dread of death dismayed, and dare even death's most dreadful face behold? Say on my sovereign lady and be bold, doth not your handmaid's life at your foot lie? Therewith much comforted she again unfold the cause of her conceived melody, as one that would confess, yet feign would it deny. Claren, said she, thou seest yon fairy night, whom not my valour, but his own brave mind subjected hath to my unequal might. What right is it that he should thrall'd him find, for lending life to me a wretch unkind? That for such good him recompense with ill? Therefore I cast, how I may him unbind, and by his freedom get his free good will, yet so as bound to me he may continue still. Bound unto me, but not with such hard bands of strong compulsion and straight violence, as now in miserable state he stands, but with sweet love and sure benevolence void of malicious mind or foul offence. To which, if thou canst win him any way, without discovery of my thoughts pretence, both goodly mead of him it purchase may, and eek with great will service me right well a pay. Which, that thou mayst the better bring to pass, lo hear this ring, which shall thy warrant be, and token true to old Eumenius. From time to time, when thou at best shall see, that in and out thou mayst have passage free. Go now, Clarenda, well thy wits advise, and all thy forces gather unto thee, armies of lovely looks and speeches wise, with which thou canst even love himself to love and ties. The trust he made, conceiving her intent, did with sure promise of her good endeavour, give her great comfort, and some heart's content. So, from her parting, she thenceforth did labour, by all the means she might, to curry favour with the elfin night, her lady's best beloved, with daily shoe of courteous kind behaviour, even at the mark white of his heart, she roved, and, with wide-glancing words, one day she thus himproved. Unhappy night, upon whose hopeless state, fortune in being good, hath felly frowned, and cruel heavens have heaped and heavy fate, I rue that thus thy better days are drowned in sad despair, and all thy senses swooned in stupid sorrow, sith thy juster merit, might else have with felicity been crowded. Look up at last, and wake thy dulled spirit, to think how this long death thou mightest disinherit. Much did he marvel at her uncouth speech, whose hidden drift he could not well perceive, and, gan to doubt, lest she him sought to peach of treason, or some guileful trained did weave, through which she might his wretched life bereave. Both which tabar he with this answer met her. Fair damsel, that with Ruth, as I perceive, of my mishaps, art moved to wish me better, for such your kind regard I can but rest your debtor. Yet, wheat ye well, that to a courage great, it is no less beseeming well, to bear the storm of fortune's frown, or heaven's threat, then in the sunshine of her countenance clear, timely to joy, and carry comely cheer. For though this cloud have now me overcast, yet do I not of better times despair, and though, unlike, they should forever last, yet in my truth's assurance I rest fixed fast. But what so stony mind, she then replied, but if in his own power occasion lay, would do his hope a window open wide, and do his fortunes help make ready way? Unworthy sure, quote he, of better day, that will not take the offer of good hope, and eke pursue if he attain it may. Which speeches she applying to the scope of her intent, this further purpose to him, then why dost not, thou ill-advised man, make means to win thy liberty forlorn, and try if thou by fair entreaty can, move retigant, who, though she still have worn her days in war, yet, wheat thou, was not born of bears and tigers, nor so salvage minded is that all be all love of men she scorn'd? She yet forgets, that she of men was kind'd, and sooth off'd seen, thou proudest heart's based love hath blinded. Cirtus Clarenda, not of canker'd will, said he, nor obstinate, disdainful mind, I have forbore this duty to fulfil. For well I may this wean, by that I find, that she a queen, and come of princely kind, both worthy is for to be sow'd unto, chiefly by him, whose life her law doth bind, and eke of power her own doom to undo, and all's of princely grace to be inclined thereto. But want of means hath been mine only let, from seeking favour where it doth abound, which if I might by your good office get, I to yourself should rest for ever bound, and ready to deserve, what grace I found. She feeling him thus bite upon the bait, yet doubting lest his hold was but unsound, and not well fastened, would not strike him straight, but drew him on with hope, fit leisure to await. But foolish maid, while heedless of the hook, she thus oft times was beating off and on through slippery footing, fell into the brook, and there was caught to her confusion. For, seeking thus to sav the Amazon, she wounded was with her deceit's own dart, and again, thence forth to cast affection, conceiv'd close in her beguil'd heart to article through pity of his causeless smart. Yet, durst she not disclose her fancy's wound, nay to himself, for doubt of being stained, nay yet to any other white on ground, for fear her mistress should have knowledge gained, but to herself it secretly retained within the closet of her covert breast. The more thereby her tender heart was pain'd, yet to wait fit's time she wean'd best, and fairly did disemble her sand thoughts unrest. One day her lady, calling her apart, ganned to demand of her some tidings good, touching her love's success, her lingering smart. Therewith she gann'd at first to change her mood, as when a dod and half confused stood. But quickly she it overpassed, so soon as she her face had wiped to fresher blood. Though gann'd she tell her all that she had done, and all the ways she sought his love for to have won. But said that he was obstinate and stern, scorning her offers and conditions vain, no would be taught with any terms to learn so fond a lesson as to love again. Die rather would he in penurious pain, and his abridged days and duller waste, than his foe's love or liking entertain. His resolution was both first and last, his body was her thrall, his heart was freely plas'd. Which, when the cruel Amazon perceiv'd, she gann'd to storm and rage and rend her gall, for very fell despite which she conceiv'd to be so scorn'd of a base-born thrall, whose life did lie in her least eyelids fall. Of which she vow'd with many a cursed threat that she therefore would him ere long for stall. Nevertheless, when calmed was her furious heat, she changed at threatful mood and modly gann'd entreat. What now is left, Clarinda, what remains, that we may compass this our enterprise? Great shame to lose so long-employed pains, and greater shame to abide so great misprice with which he dares our offers thus despise. Yet, that his guilt the greater may appear, and more my gracious mercy by this wise, I will a while with his first folly bear, till thou have tried again, and tempted him more near. Say and do all that may thereto prevail. Leave not unpromised, that may him persuade. Life, freedom, grace, and gifts of great avail, with which the gods themselves are milder made. Thereto add art, even women's witty trade, the art of mighty words that men can charm, with which in case thou canst him not invade. Let him feel hardness of thy heavy arm, who will not stoop with good shall be made stoop with harm. Some of his diet do from him withdraw, for I find him to be too proudly fed. Give him more labour, and with straighter law, that he with work may be for wearied. Let him lodge hard, and lie in strong bed, that may pull down the courage of his pride. And lay upon him, for his greater dread, cold iron chains, with which let him be tied. And let whatever he desires be him denied. When thou hast all this done, then bring me news of his demean. Then sporth not like a lover, but like a rebel 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 grief and stain, which endly did to great impatience move her. But the false maiden shortly turned again unto the prison, where her heart did thrall remain. There all her subtle nets she did unfold, and all the engines of her wit display, in which she meant him weariless to unfold, and of his innocence to make her pray. So cunningly she wrought her crafts a say, that both her lady and herself with all, and eek the night at once she did betray. But most the night, whom she with guileful call did cast forth to allure into her trap to fall. As a bad nurse, which feigning to receive, in her own mouth the food meant for her child, withholds it to herself, and doth deceive the infant so for want of nurture spoiled. Even so, Clarinda, her own dame beguiled, and turned the trust which was in her afide, to feeding of her private fire which boiled her inward breast, and in her entrails fried, the more that she it sought to cover and to hide. For coming to this night she purposed feign, how earnest suit she earced for him had made, unto her queen his freedom to have gained it. But by no means could her there to persuade, but that instead thereof she sternly bade his misery to be augmented more, and many iron bands on him to laid, all which, nevertheless, she for his love for bore. So praying him to accept her service ever more. And more than that she promised that she would, in case she might find favor in his eye, to use how to enlarge him out of hold. The fairy glad to gain his liberty can yield great thanks for such her courtesy, and with fair words fit for the time and place to feed the humor of her malady, promised if she would free him from that case he would, by all good means he might, deserve such grace. So daily he fair semblance did her shoe, yet never meant he in his noble mind to his own absence love to be untrue. Never did deceitful Clarin find in her false heart his bondage to unbind, but rather how she moat him faster tie. Therefore unto her mistress most unkind she daily told her love he did defy, and him she told her dame his freedom did deny. Yet thus much friendship she to him did show, that his scarce diet somewhat was amended, and his work lessened, that his love moat grow. Yet to her dame him still she discommended, that she with him moat be the more offended. Thus he long while enthralled him there remained, of both beloved well, but little friended, until his own true love his freedom gained, which in another canto will be best contained. End of Book 5 The Legend of Artigal Canto 6 Book 5 The Legend of Artigal This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brian Barnes. The Fairy Queen by Edmund Spencer. Book 5 The Legend of Artigal. Canto 6 Some men I vote will deem in Artigal great weakness and report of him much ill, for yielding so himself a wretched thrall to the insolent command of woman's will, that all his former praise doth fowly spill. But he the man that say or do so dare be well advised, that he stand steadfast still, for never yet was white so well aware, but he at first or last was trapped in woman's snare. Yet in the straightness of that captive state this gentle knight himself so well behaved, that notwithstanding all the subtle bait with which those amazons his love still craved, to his own love his loyalty he saved, whose character in the adamantine mold of his true heart so firmly was engraved, that no new love's impression ever could, bereave it thence such blot his honour blemish should. Yet his own love, the noble Brittlemart, scarce so conceivid in her jealous thought, what time said tidings of his baleful smart in woman's bondage talus to her brought, brought an untimely hour ere it was sought. For after that the utmost date assigned for his return she waited had for naught. She ganned a cast in her misdoubtful mind a thousand fears that love sick fancies vain to find. Sometime she feared, lest some hard mishap had him misfawn in his adventurous quest. Sometime lest his false foe did him in trap and traitorous train, or had unware as oppressed. But most she did her troubled mind molest and secretly afflict with jealous fear, lest some new love had him from her possessed. Yet loathe she was, since she no ill did hear, to think of him so ill, yet could she not forbear. One while she blamed herself, another while she him condemned as trustless and untrue, and then her grief with error to beguile she feigned to count the time again anew, as if before she had not counted true. For hours but days, for weeks that pass it were, she told but months to make them seem more few, yet when she reckoned them still drawing near, each hour did seem a month and every month a year. But when as yet she saw him not return, she thought to send someone to seek him out, but none she found so fit to serve that turn as her own self, to ease herself of doubt. Now she devised amongst the warlike rout of errant knights to seek her errant knight, and then again resolved to hunt him out amongst loose ladies lapped in delight, and then both knights envied in ladies' ected spite. One day, when as she long had sought for ease in every place, in every place thought best, yet found no place that could her liking please, she too a window came that opened west, towards which coast her love his way addressed. There looking forth, she in her heart did find many vain fancies working her unrest, and sent her winged thoughts more swift than wind to bear unto her love the message of her mind. There as she looked long, at last she spied, one coming towards her with hasty speed, well weaned she then, ere him she plain described, that it was one sent from her love indeed, who, when he nigh approached, she, Mota, read, that it was Talus, Artigal his groom, where at her heart was filled with hope and dread, nay would she stay till he in place could come, but ran to meet him forth to know his tidings some. Even in the door him meeting she begun, and where is he thy lord, and how far hence, declare it once, and hath he lost or won? The iron man, albeit he wanted sense, and sorrow's feeling yet with conscience, of his ill news, did inly chill and quake, and stood still mute as one in great suspense, as if that by his silence he would make her rather read his meaning than himself its spake. Till she again thus said, Talus be bold, and tell whatever it be good or bad, that from thy tongue thy heart's intent doth hold. To whom he thus at length, the tidings said that I would hide will needs I see be read. My lord, your love, by hard mishap doth lie, in wretched bondage woefully bestowed, I me, quote she, what wicked destiny, and is he vanquished by his tyrant enemy? Not by that tyrant, his intended foe, but by a tyranness, he then replied, that him captived hath in hapless woe. Cease thou bad news, man, badly dust thou hide, thy master's shame, in Harlett's bondage tide. The rest, myself, too readily conspel, with that enraged she turned from him aside, forcing in vain the rest to her to tell, and to her chamber went like solitary cell. There she began to make her moanful plaint against her night for being so untrue, and him to touch with falsehood's phallotaint that all his other honor overthrew. Oft did she blame herself, and often rue, for yielding to a stranger's love so light, whose life and manners strange she never knew, and evermore she did him sharply twight, for breach of faith to her which he had firmly plight. And then she and her wrathful will did cast, how to revenge that blot of honor blent, to fight with him and goodly die her last, and then again she did herself torment, inflicting on herself his punishment. A while she walked and chaffed, a while she threw herself upon her bed and did lament, yet did she not lament with loud aloo, as women want, but with deep sighs and singles few. Like as a wayward child whose sounder sleep is broken with some fearful dreams of fright, with fro'ward will doth set himself to weep, nay can be stilled for all his nurses might, but kicks and squalls and shrieks for fell despite, now scratching her and her loose locks misusing, now seeking darkness and now seeking light, then craving suck, and then the suck refusing, such was this lady's spit in her love's fond accusing. But when she had with such unquiet fits herself their close afflicted long in vain, yet found no easement in her troubled wits, she unto Tallis forth returned again, by change of place seeking to ease her pain, and Gann inquire of him with milder mood the certain cause of articles detain, and what he did, and in what state he stood, and whether he did woo, or whether he were wooed. Ah, well away, said then the iron man, that he is not the while in state to woo, but lies and wretched thrall them, weak and wan, not by strong hand compelled there unto, but his own doom that none can now undo. Said I not then, quote she, ere while aright, that this is things compact betwixt you too, me to deceive of faith unto me plight, since that he was not forced, nor overcome in fight. With that he Gann at large to her dilate, the whole discourse of his captive and sad, in sort as ye have heard the same of late, all which when she with hard endurance had heard to the end, she was right sore bestowed, with sudden stounds of wrath and grief atone, nay would abide till she had answer made, but straight herself did dite and armor dawn, and mounting to her steed bad Tallis guide her on. So forth she rode upon her ready way, to seek her night, as Tallis her did guide. Sadly she rode, and never words did say, nor good nor bad, nay ever looked aside, but still wright down, and in her thought did hide the feldness of her heart rightfully bent to fierce avengement of that woman's pride, which had her lord and her base prison pent, and so great honour, with so foul reproach, had blent. So as she, thus melancholic did ride, chowing the cut of grief and inward pain, she chanced to meet toward the eventide a night, that softly paced on the plain, as if himself to Tallis he were fain. Well shot in years he seemed, and rather bent to peace, than needless trouble to constrain, as well by view of that his vestiment, as by his modest simplant, that no evil meant. He coming near again gently her salute, with courteous words in the most comely wise, who though desirous rather to rest mute, than terms to entertain of common guys, yet rather than she kindness would despise, she would herself displease, so him requite. Then gan the other further two devise of things abroad, as next to hand did light, and many things demand, to which she answered light. For little lust had she to talk of ought, or ought to hear that moat delightful be. Her mind was whole possessive of one thought, that gave none other place, which when as he, by outward signs as well he might did see, he list no linger to use loathful speech, but her besought to take it well in grie. Sith shady damp had dimmed the heavens' reach, to lodge with him that night, unless good cause impeach. The championess now seeing night at door was glad to yield unto his good request, and with him went without gain saying more. Not far away but little wide by west his dwelling was, to which he him addressed, where soon arriving they received were, in seemly wise is them besiemit best. For he their host them goodly well did cheer, and talked of pleasant things the night away to wear. Thus passing the evening well till time of rest, then Bretomart unto a bower was brought, where grooms awaited her to have undressed. But she ne' would undress it be for ought, n' doth her arms, though he her much besought. For she had vowed, she said, not to forgo those war-like weeds, till she revenge had wrought of a late wrong upon a mortal foe, which she would sure perform betide her wheel or woe. Which when their host perceived, right discontent in mind he grew, for fear least by that art he should his purpose miss, which close he meant, yet taking leave of her he did depart. There all that night remained Bretomart, restless, reconfortless, with heart deep grieved, not suffering the least twinkling sleep to start into her eye, which the heart motive relieved, but if the least appeared her eyes she straight reprieved. Ye guilty eyes, said she, the witch with guile my heart at first betrayed, will ye betray, my life now too, for which a little while ye will not watch, false watches well away. I vote when ye did watch both night and day unto your loss, and now needs will ye sleep. Now ye have made my heart to wake all way, now will ye sleep, awake and rather weep, to think of your night's want that should ye waking keep. Thus did she watch, and wear the weary night and waleful planks, that none was to appease. Now walking soft, now sitting still upright, as sundry change her seemed best to ease. Nellested talus, suffer sleep to seize, his eyelids sad, but watched continually, lying without her door in great disease, like to a spaniel waiting carefully, lest any should betray his lady treacherously. What time the native bellman of the night, the bird that warn'd Peter of his fall, first rings his silver bell to each sleepy white, that should their minds up to devotion call. She heard a wondrous noise below the hall. All suddenly the bed where she should lie, by a false trap was let a down to fall, into a lower room, and by and by the loft was raised again, that no man could it spy. With sight whereof she was dismayed right sore, perceiving well the treason which was meant, yet stirrid not at all for doubt of more, but kept her place with courage confident, waiting what would ensue of that event. It was not long before she heard the sound of armoured men coming with close intent towards her chamber, at which dreadful sound she quickly caught her sword in shield about her bound. With that there came unto her chamber door two nights, all armoured ready for to fight, and after them full many other more, a rascal rout with weapons rudely died, whom soon as talus spied by glimpse of night he started up, there where on ground he lay, and in his hand his thresher ready kite. They seeing that, let's drive at him straight way, and round about him priests in riotous array. But soon as he began to lay about with his rude iron flail, they began to fly, both armoured knights, and eke an armoured rout. Yet talus, after them a pace to deploy where ever in the dark he could them spy, that here and there like scattered sheep they lay, then back returning where his dame did lie, he to her told the story of that fray, and all that treason there intended did beret. Wherewith, though wondrous wroth and inly burning, to be avenged for so foul a deed, yet being forced to abide the day's returning, she there remained, but with right weary heed lest any more such practice should proceed. Namot, ye know that which to Britomart unknown was, whence all this did proceed, and for what cause so great mischievous smart was meant to her that never evil meant in heart. The goodman of this house was Dolanheit, a man of subtle wit and wicked mind, that while him and his youth had been a knight, and arms had borne, but little good could find, and much less honour by that warlike kind of life, for he was nothing valorous, but with sly shifts and wiles did undermine all noble knights which were adventurous, and many brought to shame by treason treacherous. He had three sons, all three like father's sons, like treacherous, like full of fraud and guile, of all that on this earthly compass ones, the eldest of the which was slain erhuile by artigal through his own guilty while. His name was Ghizor, who untimely fate, for to avenge full many treasons vile his father Dolan had devised of late, with these his wicked sons ensued his cankered hate. For sure, he weaned, that this his present guest was artigal by many tokens plain, but chiefly by that iron page he guessed, which still was want with artigal remain, and therefore meant him surely to a slain, but by God's grace and her good-heediness she was preserved from their treacherous train, thus she all night wore out in watchfulness, n' suffered slothful sleep her eyelids to oppress. The morrow next, so soon as dawning hour discovered had the light to living eye, she forthesued out of her loathed bower, with full intent to avenge that villainy on that viled man and all his family, and coming down to seek them where they want, nor sire, nor sons, nor any could she spy. Each room she sought but them all empty found, they all were fled for fear, but weather neither count. She saw it vain to make their linger stay, but took her steed and thereon mounting light, gan her address unto her former way. She had not rid the mountainants of a flight, but that she saw their present in her sight those two false brethren on that perilous bridge on which Polont with artigal did fight. Straight was the passage like a plowed ridge that if too met the one moat needs fall over the ledge. There they did think themselves on her to wreak, who as she nigh unto them drew the one, these vile reproaches gan unto her speak. Thou recriant false traitor that with loan of arms has knighthood stolen yet knight art none, no more shall now the darkness of the knight defend thee from the vengeance of thy phone, but with thy blood thou shalt appease the sprite of Gizor by thee slain and murdered by thy slight. Strange were the words in Brittle Martis' ear, yet stayed she not for them, but forward Farad. Till to the perilous bridge she came and there Talas desired that he might have prepared the way to her and those two local scared. But she thereat was wroth, that for despite the glancing sparkles through her beaver glared, and from her eyes did flash out fiery light like coals that through a silver censor sparkle bright. She stayed not to advise which way to take, but putting spurs unto her fiery beast through the midst of them she way did make. The one of them which most her wrath increased upon her spear she bore before her breast, till to the bridges further end she passed were falling down his challenge he released. The other over side the bridge she cast into the river where he drunk his deadly last. As when the flashing leaven haps to light upon two stubborn oaks which stand so near that way betwixt them none appears in sight, the engine fiercely flying forth doth tear the one from the earth and through the air doth bear, the other it with force doth overthrow upon one side and from his roots doth rear. So did the championess, those to their stro, and to their sire their carcasses left to bestow. End of Canto Six, Book Five, The Legend of Artigal. Book Five, Canto Seven, The Legend of Artigal. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. The Fairy Queen by Edmund Spencer, Book Five, The Legend of Artigal, Canto Seven. Britomart comes to Isis Church where she strange visions sees. She fights with Radigund, her slays, and Artigal thence frees. Not is on earth more sacred or divine that gods and men do equally adore than this same virtue that doth right define. For the heavens themselves whence mortal men implore right in their wrongs are ruled by righteous lore of highest jove who doth true justice deal to his inferior gods, and evermore therewith contains his heavenly common will, the skill whereof to prince's hearts he doth reveal. Well therefore did the antique world invent that justice was a god of sovereign grace and alters unto him and temples lent, and heavenly honors in the highest place calling him great Osiris of the race of the old Egyptian kings that while alone were, with fainted colors shading a true case, for that Osiris whilst he lived here, the justest man alive and truest did appear. His wife was Isis whom they likewise made a goddess of great power and sovereignty, and in her person cunningly did shade that part of justice, which is equity, whereof I have to treat here presently, unto whose temple when as Britomart arrived, she with great humility did enter in, name would that night depart, but Talus moat not be admitted to her part. There she receive it was in goodly wise of many priests, which duly did attend upon the rites and daily sacrifice, all clad in linen robes with silver hemmed, and on their heads with long locks comely kimmed. They wore rich mitres shape it like the moon, to shoe that Isis doth the moon portend, like as Osiris signifies the sun, for that they both like race in equal justice run. The championess, them greeting as she could, was sensed by them into the temple lead, whose goodly building when she did behold, born upon stately pillars, all disspread, with shining gold and arched overhead, she wondered at the workman's passing skill, whose like before she never saw nor read, and there upon long while stood gazing still, but thought that she thereon could never gaze her fill. Thinsforth unto the idol they her brought, that which was frame it all of silver fine, so well as could with cunning hand be wrought, and clothe it all in garments made of lime, hemmed all about with fringe of silver twine, upon her head she wore a crown of gold, to shoe that she had power in things divine, and at her feet a crocodile was rolled, that with her wreathed tail her middle didn't fold. One foot was set upon the crocodile, and on the ground the other fast did stand, so meaning to suppress both forged guile, and open force, and in her other hand she stretched forth a long white slender wand, such was the goddess, whom when Britomart had long beheld, herself upon the land, she did prostrate, and with right humble heart unto herself her silent prayers did impart. To which the idol, as it were inclining, her wand did move with amiable look, by outward shoe her inward sense designing, who well perceiving how her wand she shook, it as a token of good fortune took. By this the day with damp was overcast, and joyous light the house of Jove Forsook, which when she saw her helmet she unlaced, and by the altar's side herself, to slumber placed. For other beds the priests, there use it none, but on their mother earth's dear lap did lie, and bake their sides upon the cold hard stone, tenure themselves to sufferance thereby, and proud rebellious flesh to mortify. For by the vow of their religion they tied were to steadfast chastity, and continents of life, that all foregone they moat the better tinned to their devotion. Therefore they moat not taste of fleshly food, nor feed on art that which doth blood contain, nor drink of wine, for wine they say is blood, even the blood of giants which was slain, by thundering Jove in their flagrian plain, for which the earth is they the storytell wroth with the gods, which too perpetual pain had damned her sons, which against them did rebel, with inward grief and malice did against them swell. And of their vital blood, the which was shed in her pregnant bosom, forth she brought the fruitful vine, whose liquor bloody red, having the minds of men with fury fraught, moat in them stir up old rebellious thought to make new war against the gods again, such is the power of that same fruit that not the fel contagion may thereof restrain. Nay, within reason's rule her madding mood contain. There did the warlike maid herself repose, under the wings of Isis all that night, and with sweet rest her heavy eyes did close, after that long day's toil and weary plight, where, whilst her earthly parts with soft delight of senseless sleep did deeply drown it lie, there did appear unto her heavenly sprite a wondrous vision which did close imply the course of all her fortune and posterity. Her seemed, as she was doing sacrifice, to Isis, decked with mitre on her head, and linen stole, after those priestess guys, all suddenly she saw transfigured her linen stole to robe of scarlet red, and moon-like mitre to a crown of gold, that even she herself much wonder it at such a charge, and joy it to behold herself adorned with gems and jewels manifold. And in the midst of her felicity and hideous tempest seem it from below to rise through all the temple suddenly, that from the altar all about did blow the holy fire and all the embers strove upon the ground which kindled privily into outrageous flames unwares did grow, that all the temple put in jeopardy of flaming and herself in great perplexity. With that the crocodile, which sleeping lay under the idol's feet in fearless bower, seemed to awake in horrible dismay, is being troubled with that stormy stour, and gaping greedy wide did straight devour both flames and tempest, with which growing great and swollen with pride of his own peerless power he again to threaten her likewise to eat, but that the goddess with her rod him back did beat, though turning all his pride to humblest meek. Himself before her feet he lowly threw, and again for grace and love of her to seek, which she, accepting he so near her drew, that of his game she soon in womb it grew, and forth did bring a lion of great might, that shortly did all other beasts subdue, with that she wakened, full of fearful fright, and doubtfully dismayed, through that so uncouth sight. So thereupon, long while she musing lay, with a thousand thoughts feeding her fantasy, until she spied the lamp of lightsome day, uplifted in the porch of heaven high, then up she rose fraught with melancholy, and forth into the lower parts did pass, whereas the priestess she found full busily, about their holy things for moral mass, whom she saluting fair, fair resoluted was. But by the change of her uncearful look they might perceive she was not well in plight, or that some pincetness to heart she took, therefore thus one of them who seemed in sight to be the greatest and the gravest white to her bespeak. Sir, night it seems to me that thorough evil rest of this last night, or ill-upaid, or much dismayed ye be, that by your change of cheer is easy for to see. Sirtees said she, Sith ye so well have spied the troublous passion of my pincet mind, I will not seek the same from you to hide, but will my cares unfold in hope to find your aid, to guide me out of error blind. Say on, Quothee, the secret of your heart, for by the holy vow which me doth bind, I am adjured, best counseled to impart, to all that shall require my comfort in their smart. Then gans she to declare the whole discourse of all that vision which to her appeared, as well as to her mind it had recourse, all which when he unto the end had heard, like to a weak faint-hearted man he ferried, through great astonishment of that strange sight, and with long locks upstanding, stiffly stare it, like one adored, with some dreadful sprite, so filled with heavenly fury, thus he her be height. Magnific virgin, that in quaint disguise of British arms dust mask thy royal blood, so to pursue a perilous imprise, how couldst thou wean, through that disguised hood, to hide thy state from being understood? Can from the immortal gods ought hidden be? They do thy lineage, and thy lordly brood, they do thy sire, lamenting sore for thee, they do thy love forlorn in women's thralldom sea. The end whereof, in all the long event, they do to thee in this same dream discover, for that same crocodile doth represent the righteous night that is thy faithful lover, like to Osiris in all just endeavor, for that same crocodile, Osiris, is, that under ice's feet doth sleep for ever. To shoot that clements oft in things amiss, restrain those stern behests and cruel dooms of his. That night shall all the troublous storms assuage and rage in flames, that many foes shall rear to hinder thee from the just heritage of thy sire's crown, and from thy country dear. Then shall to thou take him to thy lovid fear, and join in equal portion of thy realm, and afterwards a son to him shall bear, that lion-like shall shoo his power extreme. So bless thee, God, and give thee joints of thy dream. All which, when she unto the end had heard, she much was eased in her troublous thought, and on those priests bestowed rich reward, and royal gifts of gold and silver wrought, she for a present to their goddess brought. Then taking leaf of them she forward went, to seek her love where he was to be sought, and they rested till she came without relent, unto the land of Amazons as she was bent. Whereof when news to Radagund was brought, not with amaze as women wanted be, she was confused in her troublous thought, but filled with courage and with joyous glee, is glad to hear of arms, the which now she had long surceased, she bade to open bold, that she the face of her new foe might see. But when they of that iron man had told, which late her folk had slain, she bade them forth to hold. So there without the gate as seemed best, she caused her pavilion bepite, in which stout Britomart herself did rest, while Talus watched it at the door all night. All night likewise they of the town in fright, upon their wall good watch and ward did keep. The morrow next, so soon as dawning light, bade do away the damp of drowsy sleep. The war like Amazon out of a bower did peep, and caused straight a trumpet loud to shrill, to warn her foe to battle soon be pressed, who long before awoke, for she full ill could sleep all night, that in unquiet breast did closely harbour such a jealous guest, was to the battle while alone ready-dite, effed soonce that warrioress, with haughty crest did forth issue, all ready for the fight. On the other side her foe appeared soon in sight. But ere they reared hand the Amazon began the straight conditions to propound, with which she used still to tie her foe, to serve her so as she the rest had bound, which when the other heard she sternly frowned for high disdain of such indignity, and would no longer treat, but bade them sound, for her no other terms should ever tie than what prescribed were by laws of chivalry. The trumpet sound, and they together run with greedy rage, and with their falchions smot, nay either sought the other strokes to shun, but through great fury both their skill forgot, and practic use in arms, nay spared not their dainty parts, which nature had created, so fair and tender, without stain or spot, for other uses, then they them translated. Which they now hacked and hewed, as if such use they hated. As when a tiger and a lioness are met at spoiling of some hungry prey, both challenge it with equal greediness, but first the tiger claws their own delay, and therefore loathe to lose her right away. Doth in defense thereof full stoutly stunned, to which the lion's strongly doth gain say, that she to hunt the beast first took in hunt, and therefore ought it have, wherever it she fond. Full fiercely laid the Amazon about, and dealt her blows unmercifully sore, which Britomart withstood with courage stout, and them repaid again with double more, so long they fought that all the grassy floor was filled with blood, which from their sides did flow and gush it through their arms, that all in gore they trod, and on the ground their lives did strove, like fruitless seed, of which untimely death should grow. At last proud radigund with fell despite, having by chance, despite advantage near, let drive it her with all her dreadful might, and thus up a braiding said, This token bear unto the man whom thou dost love so dear, and tell him for his sake thy life thou gavest, which spiteful words she saw and grieved to hear, thus answered, Ludely thou my love depravest, who shortly must repent, that now so vainly bravest. Nevertheless that stroke so cruel passage found, that glancing on her shoulder plate, it bit unto the bone, and made a grisly wound, that she, her shield, through raging smart of it, could scarce uphold, yet soon she it requit, for having force increased, through furious pain, she heard so rudely on the helmet's smith, that it impearsed to the very brain, and her proud person low prostrated on the plane. Where being laid, the wrothful Britanness stayed not till she came to herself again, but in revenge both of her loves distress, and her late vile reproach, though vaunted vain, and also of her wound, which you saw did pain, she with one stroke both head and helmet cleft, which dreadful sight, when all her warlike train there present saw, each one of sense bereft fled fast into the town, and her so victor left. But yet so fast they could not home retreat, but that swift talus did the foremost win, and pressing through the priests unto the gate, Pelmel with them at once did enter in. There then a piteous slaughter did begin, for all that ever came within his reach, he with his iron flail did thresh so thin, that he no work at all left for the leech, like to an hideous storm which nothing may impeach. And now by this the noble conqueror herself came in, her glory to partake, where though revengeful vow she did profess, yet when she saw the heaps which he did make of slaughtered carcasses, her heart did quake for very Ruth, which did it almost rive, that she his fury willed him to slake, for else he sure had left not one alive, but all in his revenge of spirit would deprive. Though when she had his execution stayed, she for that iron prison did inquire, in which her wretched love was captive laid, which breaking open within dignant ire, she entered into all the parts entire, where when she saw that lowly uncouth sight of men disguised in womanish attire, her heart again grudge for very deep despite, of so unmanly mask in misery misdite. At last when as to her own love she came, whom like disguise no less deform it had, at sight thereof abashed with secret shame, she turned her head aside, as nothing glad to have beheld a spectacle so bad, and then too well believed that which to fore jealous suspect is true untruely dread, which vain conceit now nourishing no more she sought with Ruth to solve his sad misfortunes sore. Not so great wonder and astonishment did the most chaste Penelope possess to see her lord that was reported drent, and dead long since in dolerous distress, come home to her in piteous wretchedness, after long travel of full twenty years, that she knew not his favours likeliness, for many scars and many hoary hairs, but stood long staring on him amongst uncertain fears. Ah, my dear lord, what sight is this, called she? What may game hath misfortune made of you? Where is that dreadful manly look? Where be those mighty palms, the which ye won't timbrew in blood of kings and great hosts, to subdue? Could art on earth so wondrous change have wrought, as to have wrought you of that manly hue? Could so great courage stooped have to art? Then farewell fleshly force, I see thy pride is not. Thenceforth she straight into a bower him brought, and caused him those uncomely weeds undight, and in their steed, for other raiments sought, whereof there was great store and armours bright, which had been reft from many a noble night, whom that proud Amazon subdued had. Whilst fortune favoured her success in fight, in which when as she him a new had clad, she was revived and joyed much in his semblance glad. So there a while they afterwards remained, him to refresh and her late wounds to heal, during which space she there as princess reigned, and changing all that form of common wheel, the liberty of women did repeal, which they had long usurped, and them restoring to men's subjection did a true justice deal, that all they, as a goddess, her adoring, her wisdom did admire and hearkened to her lowering. For all those nights which long in captive shade had shrouded been, she did from thralldom free, and magistrates of all that city made, and gave to them great living and large fee, and that they should for ever faithful be, made them swear fealty to Artigal, who when himself now well recured did see, he proposed to proceed, what so befall upon his first adventure which him forth did call. Full sad and sorrowful was Britomart, for his departure her new cause of grief, yet wisely moderated her own smart, seeing his honor which she tendered chief, consisted much in that adventure's grief. The care whereof, and hope of his success, gave under her great comfort and relief, that womanish complaints she did repress, and tempered for the time her present heaviness. There she continued for a certain space, till through his want her woe did more increase, then hoping that the change of air into place would change her pain, and sorrow somewhat ease, she parted since her anguish to appease. Meanwhile her noble lord, Sir Artigal, went on his way, nay ever hour did cease, till he redeemed had that lady thrall, that for another canto will more fitly fall. End of Canto 7, Book 5, The Legend of Artigal Book 5, The Legend of Artigal, Canto 8, Prince Arthur and Sir Artigal, freesumient from fear, they slay the Sudan, drive his wife Adisha to despair. Nought under heaven so strongly doth the lure the sense of man and all his mind possess, as beauties lovely bait, that doth procure great warriors oft their rigor to repress, and mighty hands forget their manliness, drawn with the power of a heart-robbing eye, and wrapped in fetters of a golden tress, that can with melting pleasantse mollify, their hardened hearts enured to blood and cruelty. So Wylam learned that mighty Jewish swain, each of whose locks did match a man in might, to lay his spoils before his lemons' train. So also did that great Atian knight, for his love's sake his lion's skin undight, and so did warlike Anthony neglect the world's whole rule for Cleopatra's sight. Such wondrous power hath women's fair aspect, to captive men, and make them all the world reject. Yet could it not stern article retain? Nor hold from sweet of his avowed quest, which he had undetained to Gloriane, but left his love all be her strong request, fair Britomart, in languor and unrest, and rode himself upon his first intent. Nay day nor night did ever idly rest. Nay White would only talus with him went, the true guide of his way, and virtuous government. So travelling, he chanced far off to heed a dumbsel flying on a polfri fast before two nights, that after her did speed with all their power, and her full face fiercely chased, in hope to have her overhent at last. Yet fled she fast, and both them far out went, carried with wings of fear like foul agast, with locks all loose and raiment all to rent. And ever as she rode, her eye was backward bent. Soon after these he saw another knight, that after those two former rode apace, with spear in rest, and pricked with all his might. So ran they all, as they had been at base, they being chased, that did others chase. At length he saw the hindmost overtake one of those two, and force him turn his face. However loathe he were his way to Slake, yet mot he all gates now abide, and answer make. But the other still pursued the fearful maid, who still from him as fast away did fly, nay once for ought her speedy passage stayed, till that at length she did before her spy Sir Artigal, to whom she straight did high, with gladful haste, in hope of him to get succour against her greedy enemy. Who seeing her approach, gan forward set, to save her from her fear, and him from force to let. But he, like hound full greedy of his prey, being impatient of impediment, continued still his course, and by the way thought with his spear him quite have overwent. So both together, illike felly bent, like fiercely met. But Artigal was stronger, and better skilled in tilt and tournament, and bore him quite out of his saddle, longer than two spears length. So mischief overmatched the ronga. And in his fall misfortune him mistook, for on his head unhappily he pight, that his own weight, his neck a sunder broke, and left there dead. Meanwhile the other night defeated had the other fater quite, and all his bowels in his body brust, whom leaving there in that despiteous plight he ran still on, thinking to follow fast his other fellow pagan which before him passed. Instead of whom finding there ready-pressed Sir Artigal, without discretion he at him ran, with ready spear in rest, who seeing him come still so fiercely on, against him made again. So both and on together met, and strongly either struck, and broke their spears, yet neither has forgotten his horse's back, yet to and fro long shook, and tottered like two towers, which threw a tempest cook. But when again they had recovered sense, they drew their swords in mind to make amends for what their spears had failed of their pretence. Which when the damsel, who those deadly ends of both her foes had seen, and now her friends, for her beginning a more fearful fray, she to them runs in haste, and her hair rends, crying to them their cruel hands to stay, until they both do hear what she to them will say. They stayed their hands, when she thus began to speak. Our gentle knights, what mean ye thus unwise upon yourselves and others wrong to wreak? I am the wronged, whom you did enterprise, both to redress, and both redressed likewise. Witness the panims both, whom ye may see there dead on ground. What do ye then devise of more revenge? If more, then I am she which was the root of all, end your revenge on me. Whom when they heard so say they looked about, to wheat if it were true as she had told, where when they saw their foes dead out of doubt, eff soonce they garned their wrothful hands to hold, and ventails rear, each other to behold. Though when, as Artigal did Arthur view, so fair a creature, and so wondrous bold, he much admired both his heart and hue, and touched, with entire infection, nigh him drew. Saying, Sir Knight, of pardon are you pray, that all unwitting have you wronged the sore, suffering my hand against my heart to stray, which, if ye please forgive, I will therefore yield for amends myself yours ever more, or what so penance shall by you be read? To whom the Prince, surtease me needeth more to crave the same, whom error so misled, as that I did mistake, the living for the dead? But, sith he please, that both our blames shall die, amends may for the trespass soon be made, since neither is endammaged much thereby, so can they both themselves fall eath-persuade to fair accordance, and both faults to shade, either embracing other lovingly, and swearing faith to either on his blade, never thenceforth to nourish enmity, but either other's cause to maintain mutually. Then Artigal, gun of the Prince-Enquirer, what were those nights which there on ground were laid, and had received their follies worthy higher, and for what cause they chasted so that made? Settease I what not well, the Prince then said, but by adventure found them fairing so, as by the way unwittingly I strayed. And lo! the damsel self, whence all did grow of whom we may at will, the whole occasion know. Then they, that damsel, called to them nigh, and asked her, what were those two her phone? From whom she erst so fast away did fly, and what was she herself so woe-begone, and for what cause pursued of them at one? To whom she thus? Then woe she well that I do serve a queen, that not far hence doth wown? A princess of great power and majesty, famous through all the world, and honoured far and nigh. Her name, Mercilla, most men used to call, that is a maiden queen of high renown, for her great bounty know an overall, and sovereign grace with which her royal crown she doth support, and strongly beateth down the malice of her foes, which her envy. And at her happiness do fret and frown. Yet she herself the more doth magnify, and even to her foes her mercies multiply. Amongst many which malign her happy state, there is a mighty man, which ones hereby, that with most fell despite and deadly hate, seeks to subvert her crown and dignity, and all his power doth there unto apply. And her good nights, of which so braver band serves her as any princess under sky, he either spoils if they against him stand, or to his part allures, and bribeeth under hand. Nay him suffiseth all the wrong and ill, which he unto her people does each day, but that he seeks by traitorous trains to spill her person and her sacred self to slay. That O ye heavens defend and turn away from her unto the miscreant himself, that neither hath religion nor fay, but makes his God of his ungodly pelf, and idols serves, so let his idols serve the elf. To all which cruel tyranny, they say, he is provoked and stirred up day and night by his bad wife, that hight Addicia, who cancels him through confidence of might, to break all bonds of law and rules of right, for she herself professeth mortal 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 do so. Which, my liege lady seeing, thought it best, with that his wife in friendly wise to deal, for stint of strife and establishment of rest both to herself and to her common-wheel, and all for past displeasures to repeal, so me and message unto her she sent, to treat with her by way of enter-deal a final peace and fair atonement, which might concluded be by mutual consent. All times have won't safe passage to afford to messengers that come for causes just, but this proud dame, disdaining all accord, not only into bitter terms forthburst, reviling me and railing as she lust, but lastly to make proof of utmost shame, me like a dog she out of doors did thrust, miscalling me by many a bitter name, that never did her ill, nay once deserved blame. And lastly, that no shame might wanting be, when I was gone, soon after me she sent these two false knights, whom there ye lying see, to be by them dishonoured and shent. But thank to be God, and your good hardiment, they have the price of their own folly paid. So said this damsel that hights Samient, and to those knights, for their so noble aid, her self most grateful showed, and he put thanks repaid. But they, now having throughly heard and seen all those great wrongs the witch that made complained to have been done against her Lady Queen, by that proud dame, which her so much disdained, were movered much there at, and twix them feigned with all their force to work avengements strong upon the sultan's self, which it maintained, and on his Lady, the author of that wrong, and upon all those knights that did to her belong. But thinking best by counterfeit disguise to their design to make the easier way, they did this complot, twix themselves devise. First that Sir Artigal should him array, like one of those two knights which dead their lay, and then that damsel, the sad Samient, should as his purchased prize with him convey unto the sultan's court, her to present unto his scornful Lady, that for her had sent. So as they had devised, Sir Artigal him clad in the armour of a pagan knight, and taking with him as his vanquished thrall that damsel, led her to the sultan's right, where soon as his proud wife of her had sight, fourth of her window as she looking lay, she weaned straight it was her pain him night, which brought that damsel, as his purchased prey, and sent to him a page, that moat direct his way. Who bringing them to their appointed place offered his service to disarm the knight. But he refusing him to let unlace, for doubt to be discovered by his sight, kept himself still in his strange armour-dite. Soon after whom, the prince arrived there, and sending to the sultan in despite a bold defiance, did of him require that damsel, whom he held as wrongful prisoner. Wherewith the sultan all with fury fraught, swearing and banning most blasphemously, commanded straight his armour to be brought, and mounting straight upon a charret high, with iron wheels and hooks armed dreadfully, and drawn of cruel steeds, which he had fed with flesh of men, whom through fell tyranny he slaughtered had, and ere they were half-dead, their bodies to his beasts for proven-dead spread. So forth he came, all in a coat of plate, burnished with bloody rust, whilst on the green the Britain prince him ready did await, in glistering arms, right goodly well be seen, that shone as bright as dust the heaven sheen, and by his stirrup Talas did attend, playing his page as part, as he had been before directed by his lord, to the end he should his flail to final execution then. Thus go they both together to their gear, with like fierce minds but meanings different, for the proud sultan with presumptuous cheer, and countenance sublime and insolent, sought only slaughter and avengement, but the brave prince for honour and for right, gains torturous power and lawless regiment, in the behalf of wronged weak did fight, more in his causest truth he trusted than in might. Like to the Thracian tyrant, who they say unto his horses gave his guests for meat, till he himself was made their greedy prey, and torn in pieces by Olsides great, so thought the sultan in his folly's threat, either the prince in pieces to have torn with his sharp wheels in his first rages heat, or under his fierce horses feet have borne, and trampled down in dust his thoughts disdainered scorn. But the bold child that peril well aspiring, if he too rashly to his chariot drew, gave way unto his horses speedy flying, and their resistless rigor did astue. Yet as he passed by the pagan through a shivering dart, with so impetuous force, that had he not it shunned with heedful view, it had himself transfixered, or his horse, or made them both one mass without and more remorse. Off drew the prince unto his chariot nigh, in hopes some stroke to fasten on him near, but he was mounted in his seat so high, and his wing-footed courses him did bear so fast away, that ere his ready spear he could advance, he far was gone and past. Yet still he him did follow everywhere, and followed was of him likewise full fast, so long as in his steeds, the flaming breath did last. Again the pagan through another dart, of which he had with him abundant store on every side of his embattled cart, and of all other weapons less or more, which warlike uses had devised of yore, the wicked shaft guided through the airy wide by some bad spirit that it to mischief bore, stayed not, till through his curret it did glide, and made a grisly wound in his enriven side. Much was he grieved with that hapless throw that open had had the wellspring of his blood, but much the more that to his hateful foe he might not come to wreak his wrathful mood, that made him rave like to a lion-wood which being wounded of the huntsman's hand cannot come near him in the covet wood where he with bows had built his shady stand, and fenced himself about with many a flaming brand. Still when he sought to approach and to him nigh his chariot wheels about him whirled round, and made him back again as fast to fly, and eek his steeds like to an hungry hound that hunting after game hath Carrion found, so cruelly did him pursue and chase, that his good steed, or were he much renowned for noble courage and for hardy race, doth not endure their sight, but fled from place to place. Thus long they traced and travest to and fro, seeking by every way to make some breach, yet could the Prince not nigh unto him go that one sure stroke he might unto him reach, whereby his strengths assay he might him teach. At last from his victorious shield he drew the veil, which did his powerful light impeach, and coming full before his horse's view, as they upon him pressed, it plain to them did show. Like lightning flash that hath the gaze a-burned, so did the sight thereof their sense dismay, that back again upon themselves they turned, and with their rider ran perforce away, nigh could the soled and them from flying stay, with reigns or wounded rule as well he knew, not feared they, what he could do or say, but the only fear that was before their view, from which like masered deer dismayfully they flew, fast did they fly, as them their feet could bear, high over hills and lowly over dales, as they were followed of their former fear. In vain the pagan bands and swears and rails, and back with both his hands unto him hails the resty rains, regarded now no more. He to them calls and speaks, yet nought to veils they hear him not, they have forgot his law, but go which way they list, their guide they have for law. As when the fiery mouthered steeds, which drew the sun's bright wane to fate and's decay, soon as they did the monstrous scorpion view with ugly creeples crawling in their way, the dreadful sight did them so saw afray that their well-known courses they forwent, and leading the ever-burning lamps astray, this lower world night all to Asher's Brent, and left their scorched path yet in the firmament. Such was the fury of these headstrong steeds, soon as the infant's sun-like shield they saw, that all obedience, both to words and deeds they quite forgot, and scorned all former law. Through woods and rocks and mountains they did draw the iron chariot, and the wheels did tear, and tossed the panem without fear or awe from side to side they tossed him here and there, crying to them in vain, that nod his crying here. Yet still the prince pursued him close behind, after making offer him to smite, but found no easy means according to his mind. At last they have all overthrown to ground quite topside turvy, and the pagan hound amongst the iron hooks and grapples keen, torn all to rags and rent with many a wound, that no whole piece of him was to be seen, but scattered all about, and strode upon the green. Like as the cursed son of Theseus, that following his chase in dewy mourn, to fly his step-dam's love's outrageous, of his own steeds was all to peace's torn, and his fair limbs left in the wood for lawn, that for his sake Diana did lament, and all the woody nymphs did wail and mourn, so was this suldan wrapped and all to rent, that of his shape appeared no little monument. Only his shield and armour which there lay, though nothing whole, but all to bruised and broken, he up did take, and with him brought away that moat remain for an eternal token to all, amongst whom this story should be spoken. How worthily, by heaven's high decree, justice that day of wrong herself had broken, that all men which that spectacle did see, by like and sample moat for ever warnered be. So on a tree before the tyrant's door he caused them to be hung in all men's sight, to be a monument for evermore, which when his lady from the castle's height beheld, it much appalled her troubled sprite. Yet not as women won't indoleful fit she was dismayed or fainted through a fright, but gathered unto her her troubled wit and Gan Efsoon's device to be avenged for it. Straight down she ran, like an enraged cow that is berobbed of her youngling dear, with knife in hand, and fatally did vow to wreak her on that maiden messenger, whom she had caused be kept as prisoner by Artigal, miss weaned for her own night, that brought her back, and coming present there, she at her ran with all her force and might, all flaming with revenge and furious despite. Like raging I know, when with knife in hand she threw her husband's murdered infant out, or fell Medea, when on Kolchik's strand, her brother's bones she scattered all about, or as that madding mother amongst the rout of Bacchus priests her own dear flesh did tear. Yet neither I know, nor Medea stout, for all the meanadies so furious were, as this bold woman, when she saw that damsel there. But Artigal, being there of aware, did stay her cruel hand, as she her wrought, and as she did herself to strike prepare, out of her fist the wicked weapon-court, with that like one infelland or distraught she forth did roam, whether her rage her bore with frantic passion and with fury fraught, and breaking forth out at a post and door, unto the wild wood ran her dollars to deplore. As a mad bitch, when as the frantic fit her burning tongue with rage inflamed hath, doth run at random, and with furious bits snatching at everything, doth wreak her wrath on man and beast that cometh in her path. There they do say that she transformid was into a tiger, and that tiger's scath, in cruelty and outrage she did pass, to prove her surname true, that she imposed hers. Then Artigal, himself discovering plain, did issue forth against all that warlike rout of knights and armoured men which did maintain that lady's part, and to the solden lout. All which he did assault with courage stout, all were they nigh and hundred knights of name, and like wild goats them chastred all about, flying from place to place, with coward shame, so that with final force them all he overcame. Then caus'd he the gates be opened wide, and there the prince as victor of that day with triumph entertained and glorified, presenting him with all the rich array, and royal pomp, which there long hidden lay, purchased through lawless power and tortuous wrong of that proud solden, whom he erst did slay. So both for rest there having stayed not long, marched with that maid, fit matter for another song.