 Book 3. Prologue. The Legend of Brita Martis. It falls me here to right of chastity, that fairest virtue far above the rest, for which what needs me fetch from fairy, for in her samples, it to have expressed, since it is shrined in my sovereign's breast, and formed so lively in each perfect part, that to all ladies which have it professed, need but behold the portrait of her heart, if portrayed it might be by any living art. But living art may not, least part, express, nor life-resembling pencil it can paint, all were it Zeus's or Parcittali's, his daydily hand would fail, and greatly faint, and her perfections with his error taint, nor poet's wit, like Parseth painter far, in picturing the parts of beauty daint, so hard a workmanship adventure dare, for fear, through want of words, her excellence to mar. How then shall I, apprentice of the skill, that while I'm in divinous witstid reign, presume so high to stretch my humble quill, yet now my luckless lot doth me constrain here to perforce? But, O dread sovereign, thus far forth pardon, sith that choicest wit, cannot your glorious portrait figure plain, that I in colored shows may shadow it, and antique praises unto present persons fit? But if in living curlers, and right you, yourself you covet to see pictured, who can it do more lively, or more true, than that sweet verse with nectar sprinkled, in which a gracious servant pictured, his Cynthia, his heaven's fairest light, that with his melting sweetness ravished, and with the wonder of her beamer's bright, my senses lullid are in slumber of delight. But let that same delicious poet lend a little leave unto a rustic muse, to sing his mistress' praise, and let him mend if ought amiss her liking may abuse. Nor let his fairest Cynthia refuse, in mirrors more than one herself to see, but either Gloriana let her choose, or in Belfibe fashion it to be, in the one her rule, in the other her verchastity. End of Prologue, Book 3, The Legend of Brito Martis. Book 3, Canto I, The Legend of Brito Martis. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, go to LibriVox.org. The Fairy Queen by Edmund Spencer. Book 3, The Legend of Brito Martis, Canto I. Guyon in Countrith, Brito Mart, Fair Floramel is chaste, Duesa is trains, and Malcaste is champions are defaced. The famous Britain Prince and Fairy Knight, after long ways and perilous pains endured, having their weary limbs to perfect plight restored, and sorry wounds right well recured, of the fair Alma greatly were procured, to make their Lengar sojourn and abode. But when there too they might not be allured from seeking praise and deeds of arms abroad, they courteous conge took and forth together yod. But the captive Acrasia he sent because of travel long, a nire way with a strong guard, all rescue to prevent, and her to Fairy Court safe to convey, that her for witness of his hard assay, unto his Fairy Queen he might present, but he himself betook another way to make more trial of his hard emit, and seek adventures as he with Prince Arthur went. Long so they traveled it through wasteful ways, where dangers dwelt, and perils most did one, to hunt for glory and renownment praise. Full many countries they did overrun, from the uprising to the setting sun, and many hard adventures did achieve. Of all the which they honour ever one, seeking the weak oppressive to relieve, and to recover right for such as wrong did grieve. At last as through an open plain they yod, they spied a night that towards them pricked fair, and him beside an aged squire there rode, that seemed to couch under his shield three square, as if that age bade him that burden spare, and yielded to those that stouter could it wield. He, them aspiring, again himself prepare, and on his arm address his goodly shield, that bore a lion passant in a golden field. Which, seeing good sir Guyon dear besought the Prince of Grace, to let him run that turn, he granted. Then the fairy quickly ruck his poignant spear in sharply, again to spurn his foamy steed, whose fiery feet did burn the verdant grass, as he thereon did tread. Nay, did the other back his foot return, but fiercely forward came, without in dread, and bent his dreadful spear against the other's head. They been he met, and both their points arrived, but Guyon drove so furious, and fell, that seemed both shield and plate it would have rivaled. Nay, the less it bore his foe not from his cell, but made him stagger, as he were not well. But Guyon self, ere well he was aware, nigh a spear's length behind his crouper fell, yet in his fall so well himself he bear, that mischievous mischance his life and limbs did spare. Great shame and sorrow of that fall he took, for never yet sith warlike arms he bore, and shivering spear in bloody field first shook, he found himself dishonored so sore. Ah, gentlest knight, that ever armor bore, let not thee grieve dismounted to have been, and brought to ground that never was to before. For not thy fault, but secret power unseen, that spear enchant it was, which laid thee on that green. But weenidst thou what white thee overthrew, much greater grief and shameful a regret, for thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew, that of a single damsel thou were to met on equal plain, and there so hard beset. Even the famous Britomart it was, whom, strong, adventure did from Britain fett, to seek her lover, love far sought alas, whose image she had seen in Venus' looking glass. Full of disdainful wrath he fierce uproars, far to revenge that foul, reproachful shame, and snatching his bright sword began to close with her on foot, and stoutly forward came, die, rather would he, than endure that same, which when his Palmer saw, he began to fear his toward peril, and untoward blame, which by that new encounter he should rear, for death set on the point of that enchanted spear. And hasting towards him began fair persuade, not to provoke misfortune, nor to wean his spear's default to mend, with cruel blade, for by his mighty science he had seen the secret virtue of that weapon keen, that mortal puissance moat not withstand, nothing on earth moat always happy been. Great hazard were it, and adventure fond, to loose long-gutten honor with one evil hand. By such good means he him discounted it, from prosecuting his revengeing rage, and ache the prince like the treaty handle it his wrathful will, with reason to assuage, and laid the blame not to his carriage, but to his starting steed that swarved aside, and to the ill-pervance of his page that had his furnitures not firmly tied. So is his angry courage fairly pacified. Thus reconcilment was between them knit, through goodly temperance, and affection chased, and either vowed, with all their power and wit, to let not others honor be defaced, of friend or foe, whoever it imbased, nay arms to bear against the other's side, in which accord the prince was also placed. And with that golden chain of concord tied, so goodly all agreed they forthy fear did ride. Oh, goodly usage of those antique times in which the sword was servant unto right, when not formalis and contentious crimes, but all for praise and proof of manly might, the marshal brewed a customid to fight. Then honor was the mead of victory, and yet the vanquish it had no despite. Let later age that noble use in thee, vile rancor to avoid and cruel circuitry. Long they thus traveled, infriendly wise, through country's waste, and eek well edified, seeking adventures hard, to exercise their puissance, who alone full-dernly tried. At length they came into a forest wide, whose hideous horror and sad, trembling sound full grisly seemed. Therein they long did ride, yet a tract of living creatures, none they found, save bears, lions, and bulls, which roamed them around. All suddenly out of the thickest brush, upon a mill-quite pulfry, all alone, a goodly lady did fore by them rush, whose face did seem as clear as crystal stone, and eek through fear as white as whale's bone. Her garments all were wrought of beaten gold, and all her steed with tinsel-trapping shone, which fled so fast that a nothing-mote him hold, and scarce them leisure gave, her passing to behold. Still as she fled her eye she backward threw, a sphering evil that pursued her fast, and her fair yellow locks behind her flew, loosely dispersed with puff of every blast. All as a blazing star doth far outcast, his hairy beams, and flaming locks despread, at sight whereof the people stand aghast, but the sage wizard tells, as he has read, that it importunes death and a doleful dreary head. So as they gazed after her awhile, lo where a grisly foster forth did rush, breathing out beastly lust, her to defile, his tireling jade he fiercely forth did push, too thick and thin, both overbank and bush, in hope her to attain by hook-arc-rook, that from his gory sides the blood did gush, large were his limbs in terrible his look, and in his clownish hand a sharp abore spear he shook. Which outrage, when those gentle knights did see full of great envy and fell jealousy, they stayed not to avise who first should be, but all spurred after fast, as they moat fly, to rescue her from shameful villainy. The prince and the guy unequally belive, herself pursued, in hope to win thereby, most goodly mead, the fairest dame alive, but after the foul foster timious did strive. The wiles fair Britomart, whose constant mind would not so lightly follow beauty's chase, and erect of ladies' love did stay behind, and them awaited there a certain space, to weat if they would turn back to that place, but when she saw them gone she forward went, as lay her journey through the pearless pace, with steadfast courage and stout hardament, navel thing she feared, navel thing she meant. At last is Nye out of the wood she came. A stately castle far away she spied, to which her steps directly she did frame. That castle was most goodly edified, in place for pleasure Nye that forest side. But fair before the gate a spacious plain, mantled with green, itself did spreaden wide, on which she saw six knights that did derain fierce battle against one, with cruel might and main. Mainly they all at once upon him laid, and sore beset on every side around. That Nye he breathless grew, yet not dismayed. Nay ever to them yielded foot of ground, all had he lost much blood, through many a wound. But stoutly dealt his blows, and every way to which he turned his wrathful stone, made them recoil and fly from dread decay, that none of all the six before him durst assay. Like dastard currs, that having at a bay the salvage beast embossed in weary chase, dare not adventure on the stubborn prey, nearby to before but Rome place to place to get a snatch, when turn it is his face. In such distress and a doubtful jeopardy, when Britomart him saw, she ran a pace unto his rescue, and with earnest cry, bad those same six forebear that single enemy. But to her cry they lest not linden ear. Nay ought the more their mighty strokes surcease, but gathering him round about more near, their direful rank or rather did increase, till that she rushing through the thickest priests, perforce, disparted their compacted gyre, and soon compelled to hearken unto peace. No gents she mildly of them to inquire, the cause of their dissension and outrageous ire. Where to that a gentle knight did answer frame, these six would be enforced by odds of might to change my leaf, and love another dame, that death me leafer were, than such despite, so unto wrong to yield my rested right, for I love one, the truest one on ground. Nay, lest me change, she therein to damsel height, for whose dear sake full minneabitter stoned I have endured, and tasted minneabloody wound. Certes said she, then be any six to blame, to wean your wrong by force to justify, for knight to leave his lady were great shame, that faithful is, and better were to die. All loss is less and less the infamy, than loss of love to him, that loves but one. Nay, may love be compelled by mastery, for as soon as mastery comes, sweet love unknown, takeeth his nimble wings, and soon a way is gone. Then spake one of those six, there dwelleth here within this castle wall a lady fair, whose sovereign beauty hath no living peer, there too so bounteous and so debonair, that never any motive with her compare. She hath ordained this law, which we approve, that every night which doth this way repair, in case he have no lady, nor no love shall do unto her service never to remove. But if he have a lady, or a love, then must he her forego, with foul defame, or else with us by dint of sword approve. That she is fairer than our fairest dame, as did this night before ye hither came. Perdie, said Britomart, the choice is hard, but what reward had he that overcame? He should advance it be to high regard. Said they, and have our lady's love for his reward. Therefore, a read, sir, if thou have a love. Love, have I sure, quoth she, but a lady none. Yet will I not from mine own love remove? Nay, to your lady will I service done. But wreak your wrongs wrought to this night alone, and prove his cause. With that her mortal spear she mightily have entered towards one, and down him smot ere well aware he were. Then to the next she rode, and down the next did bear. Nay, did she stay till three on ground she laid, that none of them himself could rear again. The fourth was by that other night dismayed. All were he weary of his former pain, that now there do but two of six remain, which two did yield before she did them smite. Ah, said she then, now may ye all see plain, that truth is strong, and true love most of might, that for his trusty servants doth so strongly fight. To well we see, said they, and prove to well our faulty weakness, and your matchless might. For thy fair sir, yours be the damoiselle, which by her own law, to your lot doth light, and we, your liegemen, faith unto you plight. So, underneath her feet, their swords they marred, and after her besought, well as they might, to enter in and reap the due reward. She granted, and then in they altogether farred. Long were it to describe the goodly frame, and stately port of castle joyous, for so that castle height by commune name, where they were entertained with courteous and comely glee of many gracious fair ladies, and of many a gentle night, who, through a chamber long and spacious, effed soonce them brought unto their ladies sight, that of them cleaped was the lady of delight. For to tell the sumptuous array of that great chamber should be labour lost, for living wit, I wean, cannot display the royal riches, and exceeding cost of every pillar, and of every post, which all of purest bullion frame it were, and with great pearls, and precious stones embossed, that the bright glister of the beams clear, did sparkle forth great light, and glorious did appear. These, stranger nights, through passing, forth were led into an inner room, whose royalty and rich prevailance might uneath be read. Moat Prince's place besiems so decked to be, which stately manner, when as they did see, the image of superfluous riot eyes, exceeding much the state of mean degree, they greatly wondered, when so sumptuous guise might be maintained, and each can diversely devise. The walls were round about a perilous with costly clothes of heiress and of tour, in which, with cunning hand was portrayed the love of Venus and her paramour, the fair Adonis turned into a flower, a work of rare device and wondrous wit. First did it shoe the bitter baleful stour, which her assayed with many a fervent fit, when first her tender heart was with his beauty smith. Then with what slights and sweet allurements she enticed the boy, as well that art she knew, and wooed him her paramour to be, now making girlens of each flower that grew to crown his golden locks with honour due, now leading him into a secret shade from his beaupers and from bright heaven's view, where him to sleep she gently would persuade, or bathe him in a fountain by some covered glade. And whilst he slept, she over him would spread her mantle, colored like the starry skies, and her soft arm lay underneath his head with ambrosial kisses bathe his eyes. And whilst he bathed, with her two crafty spies, she secretly would search each dainty limb and throw into the well sweet rosemaries and fragrant violets and pansies trim, and ever with sweet nectar she did sprinkle him. So did she steal his heedless heart away and enjoyed his love in secret uninspired. But for she saw him bent to cruel play, to hunt the salvage beast in forest wide, full dreadful of danger that moat him betide, she oft and oft advised him to refrain from chase of greater beasts, whose brutish pride moat breed him skathe unwares, but all in vain, for who can shun the chance that destiny doth ordain? Low where beyond he lieth languishing, deadly engorred of a great wild boar, and by his side the goddess groveling makes for him endless moan, and evermore with her soft garment wipes away the gore, which stains his snowy skin with hateful hue. But when she saw no help, might him restore him to a dainty flower, she did transmute, which in that cloth was wrought, as if it lively grew. So was that chamber clad in goodly wise, and round about it many beds were dyed, as Willow was the antique world of skies, some for untimely ease, some for delight. It pleased them to use, that use it might, and all was full of damsels and of squires, dancing and reveling both day and night, and swimming deep in sensual desires, and cupids, still amongst them kindled, lustful fires. And all the while sweet music did divide, her looser notes with Lydian harmony, and all the while sweet birds there to applied, their dainty laze and a dulcet melody, eye, caroling of love and jollity, that wonder was to hear their trim consort, which when those knights beheld with scornful eye, they stained such lascivious discord, and loathed the loose demeanor of that wanton sort. Since they were brought to that great lady's view, whom they found sitting on a sumptuous bed, they'd glistered all with gold and glorious shoe, as the proud Persian queens accustomed. She seemed a woman of great bount ahead, and of rare beauty, saving that escance, her wanton eyes, ill signs of woman head, did roll too lightly, and too often glance, without regard of grace or comely amenance. Long work it were, and needless to devise their goodly entertainment and great glee, she caused them, be led in courteous wise, into a bower, disarm'd far to be, and cheered well with wine and spicery. The Red Cross knight was soon disarm'd there, but the brave maid would not disarm'd be, but only vented up her umbraire, and so did let her goodly visage to appear. As wind fair Cynthia, in dark sum night, is in a noyous cloud enveloped, where she may find the substance, thin and light, breaks forth her silver beams, and her bright head discovers to the world discomforted. Of the poor traveller that went astray, with thousand blessings she is harried, such was the beauty and the shining ray, with which fair Britomart gave light unto the day, and each of those six, which lately with her fought, now were disarm'd, and did themselves present unto her view, and company unsought. For they all seemed courteous and gent, and all six brethren, born of one parent, which had them trained in all civility, and goodly taught to tilt in tournament, now were they legement to this lady free, and her knight's service ought to hold of her in fee. The first of them, by name Gardante Hite, a jolly person, and of comely view, the second was Parlante, a bold knight, and next to him, Joe Conte, did ensue, Bacchante did himself most courteous shoe, but fierce Bacchante seemed too fell and keen, and yet in arms Noctante greater grew. All were fair knights, and goodly well be seen, but to fair Britomart they all but shadows bean. For she was of amiable grace, and manly terror mixed there with all, that as one stirred up affections base, so the other did mince-rage desires appall, and hold them back that would in error fall, as he that hath aspired a vermel rose, to which sharp thorns and briars the way for stall, dare not for dread his hardy hand expose, but wishing it far off, his idle wish doth lose, whom, when the lady, saw so fair a white, all ignorant of her contrary sex, for she, her weaned afresh and lusty knight, so greatly gain enamored to wax, and with vain thoughts her falsid fancy vex. Her fickle heart conceived hasty fire, like sparks of fire which fall in slender flecks, that surely brint in too extreme desire, and ransacked all her veins with passion entire. Eft soonce she grew to great impatience, and into terms of open outrage-brust, that plain discovered her incontinence, nerect she, who her meaning did mistrust, for she was given all to fleshly lust, and poured forth insensual delight, that all regard of shame she had discussed, and to meet her respect of honor put to flight. So shameless beauty soon becomes a loathly sight. Fair ladies, that to love captive it are, and chaste desires do nourish in your mind, let not her fault your sweet affections mar, ne'er blot the bounty of all woman kind, amongst thousands good one wanton dame to find. Amongst the roses grow some wicked weeds, for this was not to love but lust inclined, for love does always bring forth bountious deeds, and in each gentle heart desire of honor breeds. Not so of love this looser dame did skill, but as a coal to kindle fleshly flame, giving the bridle to her wanton will, and treading underfoot her honest name. Such love is hate, and such desire is shame. Still did she rove at her with crafty glance, of her false eyes, that at her heart did aim, and told her meaning in her countenance, but Britomart dissembled it with ignorance. Sapper was shortly died, and down they sat, where they were served with all sumptuous fare, while's fruitful series into Leia's fat poured out their plenty without spite or spare. Not wanted there that dainty was and rare, and eye the cups their banks did overflow, and eye between the cups she did prepare way to her love and secret darts did throw, but Britomart would not such guileful message know. So when they slaked had the fervent heat of appetite with meats of every sort, the lady did fare Britomart entreat her to disarm, and with delightful sport to lose her warlike limbs, and strong effort. But when she moat not there and to be won, for she, her sex under that strange report did used to hide in plain appearance shun, in plainer wise to tell her grievance she begun, and all at once discovered her desire, with sighs and sobs and plains and piteous grief, the outward sparks of her inburning fire which spent in vain, at last she told her brief, that but if she did lend her short relief, and do her comfort she moat all gates die. But the chaste damsel that had never briefed of such malingen and fine forgery did easily believe her strong extremity. Full easy was for her to have belief, who by self-feeling of her feeble sex, and by long trial of the inward grief, wherewith imperious love her heart did vex, could judge what pains do loving hearts perplex, who means no guile, beguiled soonest shall, and to fair semblance doth light fare annex the bird that knows not the false fowlers call into his hidden net, full easily doth fall. For thy she would not in discourtesy wise scorn the fair offer of good will professed, for great rebuke it is love to despise, or rudely's dana, gentle heart's request. But with fair countenance as beseemed best, her entertained, nath less she inly deemed her love too light, to woo a wandering guest, which she misconstruing, thereby esteemed that from like inward fire that outward smoke had steamed. There with a while she her flit fancy fed, till she moat win fit time for her desire. But yet her wound still inward freshly bled, and through her bones the false instill it fired, it spread itself, and vin' him closely inspire. Though were the tables taken all away, and every night, and every gentle squire again choose his dame with basio mani gay, with whom he meant to make his sport, and courtly play. Some fell to dance, some fell to hazardry, some to make love, some to make merriment, his divers wits to divers things apply. And all the while fair Malacastra bent her crafty engines to her close intent. By this eternal lamps, where with high jove doth light the lower world, were half is spent, and the moist daughters of huge atlas strove into the ocean deep to drive their weary drove. High time it seemed then for every white them to be take unto their kindly rest, eft soon's long wax and torches were in light, unto their bowers to guide and every guest, though when the Britoness saw all the rest avoided quite she again herself despoil. And safe commit to her soft feathered nest, where through long watch, and in late days weary toil, she soundly slept, and careful thoughts did quite a soil. Now, when as all the world in silence deep is shrouded was, and every mortal white was drown it in the depth of deadly sleep, fair Malacastra, whose ingreavid sprite could find no rest in such perplexed plight, lightly arose out of her weary bed, and under the black veil of guilty night, her with a scarlet mantle covered, that was with gold in ermine's fare enveloped, then panting soft and trembling every joint her fearful feet, towards the bower she moved, where she for secret purpose did appoint to lodge the warlike maid unwisely loved. And to her bed approaching first she proved, whether she slept or waked, with a soft hand she softly felt if any member moved, and to let her weary ear to understand if any puff of breath or sign of sense she fond, which when as none she fond, with easy shift for fear, least her unwares she should abrade, the embroidered quilt she lightly up did lift, and by her side herself she softly laid, of every finest finger's touch afraid, nay in annoy she made, nay where she spake but inly sighed, at last the royal maid out of her quiet slumber did awake, and changed her weary side, the better ease to take. Where feeling one close couched by her side, she lightly leapt out of her filet bed, and to her weapon ran, in mind to gride the loathed leecher, for the dame half-dead, through sudden fear and ghastly dreary head did shriek aloud, that through the house it rung, and the whole family there with a dread rashly, out of their roused couches sprung, and to the troubled chamber all in armies dethroned, and those six knights to ladies champions, and aches of red cross-night, ran to the stoned half-armed and half-unarmed, with them at once, where when confusedly they came they found their lady lying on the senseless ground, on the other side they saw the warlike maid, all in her snow-white smock, with locks unbound, threatening the point of her avenging blade, that with so troublesome terror they were all dismayed. About their lady first they flocked around, whom, having laid in comfortable couch, shortly they reared out of a frozen swooned, and afterwards they ghan with foul reproach to stirrup strife, and troublous con-tec brooch, but by in sample of the last day's loss, none of them rashly durst to her approach, Nayenso glorious spoil themselves in boss, her succord ache the champion of the bloody cross. But one of those six knights, Gardante height, drew out a deadly bow and arrow keen, which forth he sent with felonous despite, and fell intent against the virgin sheen. The mortal steel stayed not, till it was seen to gore her side, yet was the wound not a deep, but lightly raised at her soft silken skin, that drops of purple blood thereout did weep, which did her lily smock with stains of vermal steep, wherewith enraged, she fiercely at them flew, and with her flaming sword about her laid, that to none of them foul mischief could estue. But with her dreadful strokes were all dismayed. Here, there, and everywhere about her swayed her wrathful steel, that to none moated abide, and aches of red cross night gave her good aid, eye joining foot to foot and side to side, that in short space there foes they have quite terrified. Though when as all were put to shameful flight, the noble Britomartis her arrayed, and her bright arms about her body died, for nothing would she longer there be stayed, where so loose life and so un-gentle trade was used of knights and ladies seeming gent. So early ere the gross earth's crazy shade was all dispersed out of the firmament. They took their steeds and forth upon their journey went. End of Canto I. Book III. Book III. Canto II. The Legend of Britomartis 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 III. The Legend of Britomartis. Canto II. The Red Cross Knight to Britomart describeeth Artigal, the wondrous mirror by which she in love with him did fall. Here have I cause, and men just blame to find, that in their proper praise to part shall be, and not indifferent to women kind, to whom no share in arms and chivalry they do impart, to make in memory of their brave jests and prowess Marcial. Scarce did they spare to one, or two, or three, roundly in their writs, yet the same writing small does all their deeds deface, and dims their glories all. But by record of antique times I find that women want and war is to bear most sway, and two all great exploits themselves inclined, of which they still the girl and bore away, till envious men, fearing their rules decay, gain coin-straight laws to curb their liberty. Yet sith they warlike arms have laid away, they have excelled in arts and policy, that now we foolish men that praise gain ichten vie. Of warlike puissance and ages spent, be thou fair Britomart, whose praise I write. But of all wise dumb be thou precedent, O sovereign queen, whose praise I would indict. Indict I would as duty doth excite, but all my rhymes too rude and rugged are, when in so high an object they do light, and striving, fit to make, I fear do mar, thy self, thy praises tell, and make them know and far. She travelling with Guyon, by the way, of sundry things, fair purpose gand defined, to bridge their journey long and lingering day, amongst which it fell into that fairy's mind, to ask this Britain-made, what uncouth wind, brought her into those parts, and what in quest made her to symbol her disguised kind. Fair lady, she seemed like lady dressed, but fairest night alive, when armoured was her breast. There at she sighing softly had no power, to speak a while, nor ready answer make, but with heart-thrilling throbs and bitter store, as if she had a fever-fifted quake, and every dainty limb with horror's shake, and ever an unknown the rosy red flashed through her face, as it had been a flake of lightning, through bright heavenful minded, at last the passion passed, and she thus as him answered. Fair sir, I let you weep, that from the hour I was taken from the Norse's tender path I have been trained up in warlike store, to toss in spear and shield, and to a frappe the warlike rider to his most mishap. Since I loathe'd have my life to lead, as ladies want, and pleasures want in lap, to finger the fine needle and nice thread, me lever were with point of foam and spear be dead. All my delight on deeds of arms is set, to hunt out perils and adventures hard, by sea, by land, where so they may be met, only for honour and for high regard, without respect of richness or reward. For such intent into these parts I came, without encompass, without encard, far from my native soil, that is, by name, the greater Britain, here to seek for praise and fame. Fame blazed hath, that here and fairy-laund do many famous knights and ladies won, and many strong adventures to be fond, of which great worth and worship may be won, which I, to prove, this voyage have begun. But moat I wheat of you, write courteous night, tidings of one, that hath unto me done late foul dishonour and reproachful spite, the which I seek to wreak and artigal he height. The word gone out she back again would call, as her repenting so to have mis-said, but that he up-taking ere the fall, her shortly answered, fair marshal made, certigy misadvised being, to up-braid a gentle night with so un-nightly blame. For wheat ye well of all, that ever played at tilt or turny or word-like game, the noble artigal hath ever borne the name. For thy great wonder were it of such shame, should ever enter in his bounteous thought, or ever do, that moat deserve and blame. The noble courage never weeneth ought, that may unworthy of itself be thought. Therefore, fair damsel, be ye well aware, lest that too far ye have your sorrow sought, you and your country both I wish welfare, and honour both, for each of other worthy are. The royal maid wokes inly, wondrous glad, to hear her love so highly magnified, and joy'd that ever she affix it had her heart on night so goodly glorified. However finally she at feign to hide, the loving mother that nine month's did bear, in the dearer closet of her painful side, her tender babe, it seeing safe appear, doth not so much rejoice, as she rejoiceth there. But to occasion him to further talk, to feed her humour with his pleasing style, her list in strifle terms with him to balk, and thus reply'd, however sir ye file your courteous tongue his praises to compile, it ill be seems a night of gentle sort, such as ye have him boasted, to be guile, a simple maid, and work so heinous tort, in shame of knighthood, as largely I can report. Let be, therefore, my vengeance to assuade, and read, where I that fader false may find. Ah, but if reason fair might you persuade, to slake your wrath, and mollify your mind, said he perhaps you should it better find, for hardy thing it is, to wing by might, that man to heart conditions to bind, or ever hope to match an equal fight, whose prowess, paragon, never saw living white. Nasuthlich is it easy for to read, where now on earth, or how he may be found. For he know oneth in one certain steed, but restless walketh all the world around, I, doing things that to his fame redound, defending ladies' cause, and orphans' right, where so he hears, that doth confound, let them comfortless, through tyranny or might, so is his sovereign honor razed to heaven's height. His felling words her feeble sense much pleased, and softly sunken to her molten heart, that his inly hurt is greatly eased, with hope of thing that may allege his smart. For pleasing words are like to magic art, that doth the charmed snake in slumber lay. Such secret ease felt gentle Britomart, yet list the same efforce with fame gain say, so discord often music make the sweeter lay. And said to night these idle terms forbear, and sith it is uneath to find his hunt, tell me some marks by which he may appear, if chants I him encounter paravant, for parody one shall other slay, or daunt, what shape, what shield, what arms, what steed, what stad, and what so else his person most may vaunt, all which the Red Cross knight, to point to red, and him in every part before her fashion it. Yet him in every part before she knew, however list her now her knowledge fame, sith him Willem in Briton she did view, to her reveal it in a mirror plain, whereof did grow her first ingraphed pain, whose root and stalk so bitter yet did taste, that but the fruit more sweetness did contain. Her wretched days and dolors she most moat wasst, and yield the prey of love to loathsome death at last. By strain's occasion she did him behold, and much more strangely gand to loath his sight. As it in booketh's hath written, Benavold, in Dayhubarth that now south Wales his height, what time King Vriant's reigned and deal'd right, the great magician Merlin had devised by his deep science, and held dreaded might a looking-glass, right wondrously aghized, whose virtues through the wide world soon were solemnized. It verch you had to show in perfect sight whatever thing was in the world contained, betwixt the lowest earth and heaven's height, so that it to the looker appertained whatever foe had wrought or friend had feigned. Therein discovered was, Naot moat pass, Naot and secret from the same remained. For thy round and hollow-shaped was, liked the world itself, and seemed a world of glass. Who wonders not that reads so wondrous work, but who does wonder, that has read the tower, wherein the Egyptian pharaoh long did lurk from all men's view, that none might heard to scour? Yet she made all men view out of her bower. Great Ptolemy, it for his layman's sake, e'billed it all of glass by magic power, and also it impregnable did make. Yet when his love was false, he with appease it break. Such was the glassy globe that Merlin made, and gave unto King Rance for his guard, that never foes his kingdom might invade, but he knew it all at home before he hard tidings thereof, and so him still debarred. It was a famous present for a prince, and worthy work of infinite reward, that treasons could beret and foes convince. Happy this realm had it remained ever since. One day at Fortuned, fair Brito Marte, into her father's closet to repair, for nothing he from her reserved apart, being his onely daughter and his hair. Where when she had aspired that mere affair, herself a wall therein she viewed in vain, though her advising of the virtue's rare, which thereof spoken were, she began again her to be think of, that moat to herself pertain. But as it falleth in the gentlest hearts, imperious love hath highest set his throne, and tyrannizeth in the bitter smarts of them, that to him buxom are and prone. So thought this made, as maidens used to done, whom Fortune for her husband would allot, not that she lusted after any one, for she was pure from blame of sinful blot. Yet whist her life at last must linken that same knot. As soon as there was presented to her eye a comely night, all armed and complete wise, through all bright ventail lifted up on high, his manly face, that did his foes aggrize, and friends to terms of gentle truth and ties, looked forth, as febus face out of the east, betwixt to shady mountains, death of rise, portly his person was, and much increased through his heroic grace, an honorable jest. His crest was covered with a cushioned hound, and all his armor seemed of antique mould, but wondrous, massy, and assured sound, and round about effretted all with gold, in which there was written, with ciphers old, Achilles' armus, which Artigal did when. And on his shield enveloped sevenfold, he bore a crowned little ermaline, that decked the azure field with hair-fair-poldered skin. The damsel well did view his personage, and liked well, no further fastened not, but went her way, nor her unguilty age did wean unawares that her unlucky lot lay hidden in the bottom of the pot. Of hurt unwist most donger doth redound, but the false archer, which that arrow shot so slyly that she did not feel the wound, did smile full smoothly at her weakless woeful stout. Thenceforth the feather in her lofty crest, roughed of love, ganlally to avail, on her proud portents, and her princely jest, with which she earth-triumped, now did quail. Sad, solemn, sour, and full of fancy's frail, she walks, nor wist, she neither howl, nor why, she wist not, silly maid, what she did ale. Yet wist she was not well at ease per die, yet thought it was not love, but some melancholy. So soon as night had with her pallid hue defast the beauty of the shining sky, and ref'd from men the world's desired view, she with her Norse adound to sleep did lie. But sleep full far away from her did fly, and stead thereof sad sighs and sorrows deep, kept watch and ward about her warily. That not she did, but wail, and often steep, he dainty couch with tears, which closely she did weep. And if that any drop of slumbering rest did chance distill into her weary sprite, when feeble nature felt herself oppressed, straight way with dreams and with fantastic sight of dreadful things the same was put to flight, that oft out of her bed she did a start, as one with view of ghastly fiends of fright. Though gans she to renew her former smart, and think of that fair visage written in her heart. One night, when she was tossed with such unrest, her aged nurse, whose name was Glousa Hight, feeling her leap out of her loathed nest, betwixt her feeble arms, her quickly kite, and down again into her warm bed her diet. All my dear daughter, all my dearest dread, what uncouth fit, said she, what evil plight hath thee oppressed, and with sad dreary head, chance at thy lively cheer and living made thee dead. For not of not, these sudden ghastly fears, all night afflict thy natural repose. And all the day, when as thine equal peers, there fit to sports with fair delight to chose, thou, in dull corners, doest thyself enclose. The tastest prince's pleasure, the doest spread abroad thy fresh youth's fairest flower, but lose both leaf and fruit, both chew and timely shed, as one in woeful bale for ever buried. The time that mortal men, their weary cares, do lay away, and all wild beasts do rest, and every river eek his course for bears. Then doth this wicked evil thee infest, and writhe with thousand throbs thy thrill'd breast, like a huge etna of deep engulfed grief, sorrow is heaped in thy hollow chest, once forth it breaks in sighs and anguish rife, as smoke and sulfura mixed with confused strife. I mee how much I fear lest love it be, but if that love it be, as sure I read by no one's signs and passions which I see, be it worthy of thy race and royal seed. Then I avow, by this most sacred head, of my dear foster child, to ease thy grief, and when thy will thereof a way to dread, for death nor donger, from thy due relief, shall me debar, tell me therefore thy leafest leaf. So having said, her twixed her arms twain, she straightly strained and cold tenderly, and every trembling joint and every vein she softly felt and rubbed busily. To do the frozen cold away to fly, and her fair dewy eyes with kisses, dear, she oft did bathe and oft again did dry, and ever her importuned not to fear, to let the secret of her heart to her appear. The damsel paused, and then thusly fearfully, Ah nurse, what needeth thee to eek my pain? Is not enough that I alone do die, but it must doubled be with death of twain? For not for me but death their death remain. O daughter dear, said she, despair no wit, for never soar but might a sav obtain, that blinded God which hath ye blindly smit, another arrow hath your lover's heart to hit. But mine is not, quotes she, like others wound, for which no reason can find remedy. Was never such but moat the like be found, said she, and though no reason may apply, sav to your soar, yet love can hire stye. Then reasons reach, and oft hath wonders done, but neither God of love nor God of sky can do, said she, that which cannot be done. Things often possible, quotes she, seem, ere begun. These idle words, said she, do not assuage my stubborn smart, but more annoyance breed. For no, no unusual fire, no unusual rage, it is, O nurse, which on my life doth feed, and sucks the blood from which my heart doth bleed. But since thy faithful zeal lets me not hide my crime, if crime it be, I will it read. Nor prince, nor peer is it, whose love hath gried my feeble breast of late, and launched this wound wide. Nor man is it, nor other living white. But then some hope I might unto me draw. But th' only shade and semblant of a night, whose shape or person yet I never saw, hath me subjected to love's cruel law. The same one day, as me misfortune led, I, in my father's wondrous mirror, saw, and pleased with that seeming goodly head, unaware as the hidden hook, with bait I swallowed. So thence it hath infixed faster hold, within my bleeding bowels, and so sore, now rankless in the same frail fleshly mould, that all mine and trellis flow with poisonous gore, and those sir groweth daily more and more. The can my running sore find remedy, other than my hard fortune to deplore, and languish as the leaf foam from the tree, till death make one end of my days and misery. Daughter said she, what need ye be dismayed? Or why make ye such monster of your mind? Of much more uncouth thing I was afraid, a filthy lust contrarry undecined. But this affection nothing strange I find. For who with reason can you I reproove to love the semblant pleasing most your mind, and yield your heart whence you cannot remove? No guilt in you, but in the tyranny of love. Not so the Arabian myrrh did set her mind, nor so did Biblis spend her pining heart, but loved their native flesh against all kind, and to their purpose use it wicked art. Yet played pacifay a more monstrous part, that loved a bowl and learned a beast to be. Such shameful lust who loath not which depart, from course of nature and from modesty. Sweet love such lewdness bands from his fair company. But thine, my dear, well fare thy heart, my dear, though strange beginning had, yet fix it is, on one that worthy may perhaps appear, and seratis seem bestowed not amissed. Joy therefore have thou, and eternal bliss. With that up-leaning on her oboe week her alabaster breast she soft did kiss, which all that while she felt to pant and quake, as it an earthquake were, at last she thus bespake. Beldam, your words do work me little ease, for though my love be not so lewdly bent, as those ye blame, yet mad not appease my raging smart, not my flame relent. But rather doth my helpless grief augment. For they, however shameful and unkind, did possess their horrible intent. Short end of sorrow as they thereby did find, so was their fortune good, though wicked were their mind. But wicked fortune mine, though mind be good, can have no end nor hope of my desire, but feed on shadowes whilst I die for food, and like a shadow weeks, whilst with entire affection I do languish and expire. I faunter, thencephasis foolish child, who, having viewed in a fontan cheer his face, was with the love thereof beguiled, I fond her love as shade the body far exiled. Not like, quoth she, for that same wretched boy was of himself the idle paramour, both love and lover, without hope of joy, for which he faded into a watery flower. But better fortune thine, and better hour, which loves the shadow of a world-like knight. No shadow but a body hath in power. That body, wheresoever that it light, may learn and be by ciphers or by magic might. But if thou may with reason yet repress the growing evil, ere its strength have got, and thee abandon wholly do possess against it strongly strive, and yield thee not, till thou in open field a down be smart, but if the passion mayster thy frail might, so that needs love or death must be thy lot, then I avow to thee, by wrong or right, to compass thy desire and find that love at night. Her cheerful words much cheered the feeble sprite of the sick virgin, that her down she laid in her warm bed to sleep, if that she might. And the old woman carefully displayed the clothes about her round with busy aid, so that at last a little creeping sleep surprised her sense she therewith well a-paid. The drunken lamp down in the oil did steep, and set her by to watch, and set her by to weep. Airely the morrow next before that day his joyous face did to the world reveal. They both up rose and took their ready way unto the church, their prayers to appeal, with great devotion, and with little zeal. For the fair damsel from the holy heiress her lovesick heart to other thoughts did steal, and that old dame said many an idle verse out of her daughter's heart fond fancies to reverse. Returned home the royal infant fell into her former fit, for why no power nor guidance of herself in her did dwell. But they did nurse her calling to her bower, had gathered rue and savvain, and the flower of Kamphara, and Caliment and Dill, a which she in an earthen pot did pour, and to the brim with colt wood did it fill, and many drops of milk and blood through it did spill. Then taking thrice three heiress from off her head, them trebly breaded in a threefold lace, and round about the pot's mouth bound the thread, and having whispered a sparse certain sad words with hollow voice and bass, she to the version said, thrice, said she it, come, daughter, come, come spit upon my face, spit thrice upon me, thrice upon me spit, than even numbers for this business is most fit. That said, her round about she from her turned, she turned her contrary to the sun, thrice she her turned contrary and returned, all contrary, for she the right did shun, and ever what she did was straight undone. So thought she to undo her daughter's love, but love that is in gentle breast begun, no idle charm so lightly may remove, that well can witness, who by trial it does prove. Na'at it moat the noble maid of Vale, neslake the fury of her cruel flame, but that she did still waste, and still did wail, that through long langer and heart-burning brame, she shortly pine'd ghost became, which long hath waited by the stinging straunt, that when all glousy saw, for fearless blame of her miscarriage shouldn't her be fond, she wist not how to mend, nor how to withstand. End of Canto 2, Book 3, The Legend of Brito Martis, read by Tora in Yellowstone National Park, October 2006. Book 3, Canto 3, The Legend of Brito Martis. 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 3, The Legend of Brito Martis, are of Chastity, Canto 3. Merlin berets to Brito Mart, the State of Artigale, and shows the famous progeny from which them spring and shall. Most sacred fire, that burnest mightily in living breasts, it kindled first above, amongst eternal spheres and lamping sky, and thence poured into men, which men call love. Not that same, which doth base affections move in brutish minds, and filthy lust in flame, but that sweet fit, that doth true beauty love, and chooseeth virtue for his dearest dame. When spring all noble deeds and never dying fame, well did antiquity a god thee deem, that over mortal minds hast so great might, to order them as best to thee doth seem, and all their actions to direct a rite. The fatal purpose of divine foresight, thou dost affect in destined descents, through deep impression of thy secret might, and stirredst up the hero's high intents, which the late world admires for wondrous monuments. But thy dread darts and none do triumph more, ne'er braver proof in any of thy power, shouldst thou then in this royal maid of yore, making her seek an unknown paramour from the world's end through many a bitter store. From whose two loins thou afterwards did raise most famous fruits of matrimonial bower, which through the earth have spread their living praise, that fame in trump of gold eternally displays. Begin then, O my dearest sacred dame, daughter of Phoebus and of memory, that dost ennoble with immortal name the warlike worthy's from antiquity, in thy great volume of eternity. Begin, O Cleo, and recount from hints my glorious sovereign's goodly ancestry, till that by due degrees and long pretence thou have it lastly brought unto her excellence. Full many ways within her troubled mind, old, glossy cast, to cure this lady's grief. Full many ways she sought but none could find, nor herbs, nor charms, nor counsel, that his chief and choicest medicine for sick heart's relief. For thy great care she took, and greater fear, least that it should her turn to foul reprieve, and so reproach, when, so her father dear, should of his dearest daughter's hard misfortune hear. At last she heravised that he, which made that mirror, were in the sick damsel, so strangely viewed her strange lover's shade, to which the learned Merlin, well, could tell under what coast of heaven the man did dwell, and by what means his love might best be wrought. For though beyond the Afrik Ismail, or the Indian Peru he were, she thought him forth through infinite endeavour to have sought. Forth with themselves disguising both in strange and base attire, that none might them beret to Meridunum, that is now by change of name, Caremer than called, they took their way. There the wise Merlin will want they say to make his one, low underneath the ground, in a deep delve, far from the view of day, that of no living white he might be found. When so he counseled with his sprites, encompassed round, And if thou ever happen, that same way to travel, go to see that dreadful place, It is in hideous hollow cave, they say, Under a rock that lies a little space From the swift berry, tumbling down a pace Amongst the woody hills of Dynour. But to dare thou not, I charge, in any case, To enter into that same baleful bower, For fear the cruel fiends should thee unwares devour. But standing high aloft, low lay thine ear, And there such ghastly noise of iron chains And brazen cauldrons thou shalt rumbling hear, Which thousand sprites with long enduring pains Do toss, that it will stun thy feeble brains, And oftentimes great groans and grievous stones, When too huge toil and labour them constrains, And oftentimes loud strokes and ringing sounds From under that deep rock most horribly rebounds. The cause, some say, is this. A little while before that Merlin died, he did intend a brazen wall encompassed to compile About Kermavon, and did it commend unto these sprites To bring to perfect end, During which work the lady of the lake, Whom long he loved, for him in haste, Did sinned, who thereby forced his workmen to forsake, Them bound till his return their labour not to slake. In the mean time, though, that false lady's train, He was surprised and buried under bear, Nay ever to his work returned again. Nay the less those fiends may not their work for bear, So greatly his commandment they fear, But there do toil and travel day and night, Until that brazen wall they up do rear, For Merlin had in magic more insight Than ever him before or after living white, For he by words could call out of the sky, Both sun and moon, and make them him obey, The land to see, and see to mainland dry, And darks of night he eek could turn to day, Huge hosts of men he could alone dismay, And hosts of men of meanest things could frame, When so him list his enemies to fray, That to this day for terror of his fame The fiends do quake when any hymn to them does name. And sooth men say that he was not the son of mortal Sire, or other living white, But wondrously begotten, and begun by false illusion of a guileful sprite, On a fair lady nun that will on height Matilda, daughter to Pubidius, Who was the lord of Mithraval by right, And cousin under King Ambrosius, Whence he endued, was with skill so marvelous. They here arriving, stayed a while without, Nedur's adventure rashly into wind, But of their first intent again make new doubt, For dread of danger which it might portend, Until the hardy maid, with love to friend, First entering the dreadful mage there found, Deep busied about work of wondrous end, And writing strange characters in the ground, With which the stubborn fiends he to his service bound, He not was moved at their entrance bold, For of their coming well he wished to fore. Yet list them bid their business to unfold, As if ought in this world in secret store Were from him hidden or unknown of yore. Then glousy thus, Let not it the offend that we thus rashly Through thy darksome door unwares have pressed, For either fatal end or other mighty cause Us too did hither send, He bad tell on, and then she thus began. Now have three moons with borrowed brother's light, Thrice shined fair, and thrice seemed dim and wan, Sith a sore evil which this virgin bright tormenteth, And doth plunge in doleful plight. First rooting took, But what thing it might be, Or whence it sprung I cannot read a rite, But this I read that but if remedy thou her afford, Full shortly I her dead shall see. Therewith, the enchanter, Softly again to smile at her smooth speeches, Weeding inly well that she to him Dissembled womanish guile, And to her said, Beldame, by that ye tell More need of leechcraft, Hathior Damosel, than of my skill, Who help may have elsewhere, In vain seeks wonders out of magic spell, The old woman walks half-blank, those words to hear, And yet was loath to let her purpose plain appear. And to him said, If any leeches, skill, or other learned means, Could have redressed this, my dear daughters, Deep in graffity ill, Certes, I should be loath thee too molest, But this sad evil, which doth her infest, Doth course of natural cause, Far exceed, and how's it is within her hollow breast, That either seems some cursed witch's deed, Or evil sprite that in her doth such torment breed. The wizard could no longer bear her bored, But brusting forth in laughter, To her said, Glousy, what needs this colorable word, To cloak the cause that hath itself berayed, Nay, if fair Britomart is thus arrayed, More hidden are than sun in cloudy veil, Whom thy good fortune, having fate obeyed, Hath hither brought for succor to appeal, The witch the powers to thee are pleased to reveal. The doubtful maid, seeing herself described, Was all abashed, and her pure ivory, Into a clear carnation, Sudden died, is fair Aurora rising hastily, Doth by her blushing tell, That she did lie all night in old Tithonus' frozen bed, Whereof she seems ashamed inwardly, But her old nurse was not disheartened, But Vantage maid of that which Merlin had arid, And said, Sith then, thou knowest all our grief, For what dost thou not know? Of grace I pray pity our plaint, And yield us meat relief, With that the prophet still a while did stay, And in his spirit thus can forth display. Most noble virgin, that by fatal law Has learned to love, Let know with thee dismay the heart begin, That meets thee in the door, And with sharp fits thy tender heart oppresseth sore, For so must all things excellent begin. And Eek and rooted deep must be that tree, Whose big embodied branches shall not lend, Till they to heaven's height forth stretch it be, For from thy womb a famous progeny Shall spring out of the ancient Trojan blood, Which shall revive the sleeping memory Of those same antique peers, The heavens broomed which Greece and Asian rivers stained with their blood. Renowned kings and sacred emperors, Thy fruitful offspring Shall from the descend brave captains, And most mighty warriors, That shall their conquests through all lands extend, And their decayed kingdoms shall amend. The feeble Britons, broken with long war, They shall uprear and mightily defend And mightily defend against their foreign foe That comes from far, Till universal peace compound all civil jar. It was not, Britomart, thy wandering eye, Glancing unawares, In charm and looking glass, But the straight course of heavenly destiny, Led with eternal providence, That has guided thy glance, To bring his will to pass. Nays thy fate, nays thy fortune ill To love the prowess tonight that ever was. Therefore submit thy ways unto his will, And do by all due means thy destiny fulfill. But read, said Glousie, thou magician, What means shall she out-seek? Or what ways take? How shall she know? How shall she find the man? Or what needs her to toil, Sith fates can make way for themselves, Their purpose to partake? Then Merlin, thus, indeed the fates are firm, And may not shrink, Though all the world do shake, Yet ought men's good endeavors them Confirm, and guide the heavenly causes To the man whom heavens have ordained To be the spouse of Britomart is Arthegal. He oneeth in the land of Fairy, Yet is no fairy born, Nay sibbital to Elves, But sprung of seed terrestrial, And who along by false fairies Stolen way, While yet an infant cradle he did crawl, Nay other to himself is known this day, But that he by an elf was gotten of a fae. But sooth he is the son of Gorlois, And brother unto Kador, Cornish King, And for his warlike feats renowned is. From where the day out of the sea doth spring Until the closure of the evening, From thins him firmly bound with faithful band To this his native soil thou back shalt bring, Strongly to aid his country to withstand The power of foreign panems which invade thy land. Great aid there to his mighty poisons, And dreaded name shall given that sad day, Where also proof of thy prow valiance, Thou then shalt make to increase thy lover's pray, Long time ye both in arms shall bear great sway, Till thy wounds burden thee from them do call, And his last fate him from thee take away To wraith cut off by practice criminal, Of secret foes that him shall make in mischief fall. Where thee yet shall he leave for memory Of his late poisons, his image dead, That living him in all activity to thee shall represent? He from the head of his cousin Constantius, without dread shall take the crown, That was his father's right, and there with crown himself in the other's stead. Then shall he issue forth with dreadful might Against his Saxon foes in bloody field to fight, Like as a lion that in drowsy cave hath long time slept, himself so shall he shake, And coming forth shall spread his banner brave, Over the troubled south that it shall make The war-like merchants for fear to quake, Thrice shall he fight with them, and twice shall win. But the third time shall fair accordance make, And if he then with victory can win, He shall his days with peace bring to his earthly in. His son Hyde Vortipour shall him succeed in kingdom, but not in felicity. Yet shall he long time war with happy speed, And with great honor many battles try, But at the last to the importunity Of forward fortune shall be forced to yield. But his son Malgo shall full mightily Avenge his father's loss With spear and shield, and his proud foes Discomfort in victorious field. Behold the man, and tell me, Britomard, If I, more goodly creature thou didst see, How, like a giant in each manly part, Bears he himself with portly majesty, That one of the old heroes seems to be. He, the six islands, comprovincial, In ancient times unto great Brittany, Shall to the same reduce, And to him call their sundry kings To do their homage several. Of which his son, Coreticus, a while, Shall well defend, And Saxon's powers suppress, Until a stranger king from unknown soil Arriving, him with multitude oppress, Great Gormand, having with huge mightiness, Ireland subdued, And therein fixed his throne, Like a swift otter fell through emptiness, Shall overswim the sea with many one Of his norvases To assist the Briton's phone. He and his fury all shall overrun, And holy church with faithless hands deface, That thy sad people utterly foredone, Shall to the utmost mountains fly apace, Was never so great lust in any place, Nor so foul outrage done by living men. For all thy cities they shall sack and race, And to the green grass that groweth They shall bran, That even the wild beast shall die in starved den. While thus thy Britons do in Langer Pine, Proud ethyl dread shall from the north arrive, Serving the ambitious will of Augustine, And passing thee with hardy enterprise, Shall back repulse the valiant Brockwell twice, And banger with massacred martyrs fill, But the third time shall rue his foolhardies, For Cadwin, pitying his people's ill, Shall stoutly him defeat and thousand Saxons kill. But after him could wellen, Mightily on his son Edwin, all those wrongs shall wreak, And they shall avail the wicked sorcery Of false pellite, His purpose is to break, but him shall slay, And on a gallows bleak, Shall give the enchanter his unhappy hire, Then shall the Britons late dismayed and weak From their long vassalage again to respire, And on their pain and foes avenge their wrinkled ire. They shall he yet his wrath so mitigate Till both the sons of Edwin he have slain, Offric and Osric, twins unfortunate, Both slain in battle upon labor and plain, Together with the king of Luthien, Hyde Aden, and the king of Orkney, Both joint partakers of the fatal pain, But Penda, fearful of like destiny, Shall yield himself his leechman, And swear fealty. Him shall he make his fatal instrument To afflict the other Saxons unsubdued, He marching forth with fury insolent, Against the good King Oswald, Who endued with heavenly power, Or by angels rescued, All holding crosses in their hands on the high, Shall him defeat without in blood and brood, Of which that field, for endless memory, Shall heaven field be called to all posterity, Where at Cadwallan wroth shall forth issue, And an huge host into Northumber Leed, With which he godly Oswald shall subdue, And crown with martyrdom his sacred head, Whose brother Oswyn daunted with like dread, With price of silver shall his kingdom buy, And Penda, seeking him a down to tread, Shall tread adown, and do him foully die, But shall with gifts his lord Cadwallan pacify. Then shall Cadwallan die, And then the reign of Britain's eek with him atonce shall die, And I shall the good Cadwallader with pain or power Be able to it remedy, When the full time prefixed by destiny Shall be expired of Britain's regiment, For heaven itself shall their success in thee, And them with plagues and moorings, Pestilent consume, Till all their warlike poisons be spent. Yet after all these sorrows and huge hills Of dying people during eight years' space, Cadwallader not yielding to his ills from Armoric, Where long and wretched case he lived Returning to his native place, Shall be by vision stayed from his intent, For the heavens have decreed to displace the Britons For their sins due punishment, And to the Saxons overgive their government. Then woe, and woe, and everlasting woe, Be to the Britain babe that shall be born To live in thralldom of his father's foe. Late king, now captive, late lord, now forlorn The world's reproach, the cruel victors scorn, Banished from princely bower, to wasteful wood, Oh, who shall help me to lament and mourn The royal seed, the antique Trojan blood Whose empire longer here than ever any stood. The damsel was full, deep in passion, Both for his grief and for her people's sake, Whose future woes so plain he fashioned, And sighing soar it linked him thus bespake, Ah, but will heaven's fury never slake, Nor vengeance huge relent itself at last, Will not long misery late mercy make, But shall their name forever be defaced, And quite from off the earth their memory be raced. Nay, but the term, he said, is limited, That in this thralldom Britain shall abide, And the just revolution measured, That they, as strangers, shall be notified, For twice four hundred years shall be supplied, ere they, to form a rule restored, shall be, And their importuned fates all satisfied, Get during this their most obscurity, Their beams shall off to break forth, That men them fair may see, For Roderick, whose surname shall be great, Shall have himself a brave and sample shoe, That Saxon kings his friendship shall entreat, And how old thou shall goodly well endu, The salvage minds with skill of just and true, Then Griffith Conan, also shell up rear, His dreaded head, And the old spark's renew of native courage, That his foes shall fear least back again The kingdom he from them should bear. Nay, shall the Saxons selves all peaceably enjoy the crown, Which they from Britain's won, first ill, And after ruled wickedly, For ere two hundred years be full out run, Their shall be rave and far from rising sun, With his wide wings upon them fiercely fly, And bid his faithless chickens over run, The fruitful plains and with fell cruelty, In their avenge treaded down the victor's circuitry. Yet shall a third both these and thine subdued, Their shall a lion from the seaboard wood of Neustria Come roaring with a crew of hungry whelps, His battlest bold brood, whose claws were newly dipped in cruddy blood, That from the Danish tyrants head shall rend The usurped crown, As if that he were wood, and the spoil of the country conquered Amongst his young ones shall divide with bounty head. Though when the term is full accomplished, Their shall a spark of fire which hath long while Been in his ashes raked up and hid, Be freshly kindled in the fruitful isle of Mona, Where it lurked in exile, which shall break forth into bright burning flame, And reach into the house that bears the style of royal majesty and sovereign name, So shall the Britain blood their crown again reclaim. Henceforth eternal union shall be made Between the nations different of four, And sacred peace shall lovingly persuade the warlike minds To learn her goodly lore and civil arms To exercise no more. Then shall a royal virgin reign Which shall stretch her white rod Over the Belgic shore, under the great castle smite, So sore with all that it shall make him shake And shortly learn to fall. But yet the end is not there, Merlin stayed, His overcoming of the spirit's power, Or other ghastly spectacle dismayed, That secretly he saw yet a note Discour which sudden fit in half ecstatic store. When the two fearful women saw, They grew greatly confused in behavior, At last the fury passed, To form a hue he turned again, In cheerful looks his erst did show. Then when themselves they well instructed had of all, That needed them to be inquired, They both conceiving hope of comfort glad, With lighter hearts unto their home retired, Where they in secret council close conspired, How to effect so hard an enterprise, And to possess the purpose they desired. Now this, now that, Twix them they did devise, And diverse plots did frame To mask in strange disguise. At last the nurse in her foolhardy wit Conceived a bold device, And thus bespake. Daughter, I deem that council, I most fit that of the time Doth due advantage take. You see, that good king, Uther, now doth make, Strong war upon the pain in brethren, Height octa in Osa, Whom he lately break beside care verolame, In victorious fight, That now all Brittany doth burn in arm is bright. That therefore not our passage may impeach, Let us in feigned arms ourselves disguise, And our weak hands, whom need new strength shall teach, The dreadful spear and shield to exercise, Ne, Serity's daughter, that same more likewise, I wean, would you misseem, For you been tall and large of limb, To achieve and hard in prize. Nay, ought you want, but skill, Which practice small will bring, And shortly make you a maid-martial. And sooth it, ought your courage much in flame To hear so often, In that royal house, from whinsto none inferior ye came. Bards tell of many women valorous, Which have full many feats adventurous, Performed in paragon of proudest men. The bold Bonduca, Whose victorious exploits made Rome to quake, Stout Gwendolyn, Renowned Marsha, and redoubted Emeline. And that, which more than all the rest May sway, late days in sample, Which these eyes beheld in the last field before Menuria, which Euther, with those foreign pagans held, I saw a Saxon virgin, that which felt great Ulfin thrice upon the bloody plain, And had not carried us her hand withheld, From rash revenge, she had him surely slain, Yet carried us himself from her escape with pain. Ah, Reed, quoth Britomart, how is she height? Fair Angela, quoth she, mend to her call, No wit less fair than terrible in fight. She hath the leading of a Marshal, And a mighty people, Dreaded more than all the other Saxons, Which do for her sake and love themselves Of her name angles call. Therefore, fair infant, Her in sample make unto thyself, And equal courage to thee take. Her hearty words so deep into the mind Of the young damsel sunk, That great desire of warlike arms In her forthwith they time. And a generous stout courage Did inspire that she resolved, On weeding to her sire, Adventurous knighthood on herself to dawn, And counseled with her nurse, Her maid's attire, To turn into a messy Habergean, And bade her all things put in readiness anon. The old woman not, that needed did omit, But all things did conveniently purvey. It fortune'd, so time their turn did fit, A band of Britons riding on foray. Few days before had gotten a great prey Of Saxon goods amongst the Which was seen a goodly arbor, And full rich array, Which longed to Angela, The Saxon queen, All fritted round with gold, And goodly well be seen. The same with all the other ornaments King Ryance Caused to be hanged high, In his chief church, For endless monuments of his success In gladful victory, Of which herself, avising readily, In the evening late, O glossy, thither-lead, fair Britomart, And that same armory down, Taking her there in apparel'd, Well, as she might, And with brave Baldrick garnished. Beside those arms there stood a mighty spear, Which bladed maid by a magic art of yore, And used the same in battle eye to bear, Sith Witchet had been here preserved in store, For his great virtues proved longer for, For never white so fast in sell could sit, But him before us unto the grounded bore, Both spear she took and shield, Which hung by it, Both spear and shield of great power For her purpose fit. Thus when she had the virgin all arrayed, Another harness, Which did hang thereby about herself she died, That the young maid she might in equal arms accompany, And as her squire attend her carefully, Though to their ready steeds they cloned full light, And threw back ways that none might them aspire, Covered with secret cloud of silent night, Themselves they forth had conveyed And passed forward right. Nay, rested they till that to fairy land They came as merlin them directed late, Where meeting with this Red Cross Knight She fond of diverse things discourses too dilate, But most of Artigal in his estate At last their ways so fell, That they might part, then each to other well affectionate, Friendship professed with unfeigned heart, The Red Cross Knight diverse, But forth rode Britomart. End of Canto 3, Book 3, The Legend of Britomartus, or of Chastity.