Whereof full blith eftsoones his mightie hand
He heav'd on high, in mind with that same blow
To make an end of all that did withstand:
Which Cambell seeing come was nothing slow
Himselfe to save from that so deadly throw;
And at that instant reaching forth his sweard
Close underneath his shield, that scarce did show,
Stroke him, as he his hand to strike upreard,
In th' arm-pit full, that through both sides the
wound appeard.

Yet still that direfull stroke kept on his way,
And, falling heavie on Cambelloes crest,
Strooke him so hugely that in swowne he lay,
And in his head an hideous wound imprest:
And sure, had it not happily found rest
Upon the brim of his brode-plated shield,
It would have cleft his braine downe to his brest:
So both at once fell dead upon the field,
And each to other seemd the victorie to yield.

Which whenas all the lookers-on beheld,
They weened sure the warre was at an end;
And judges rose; and marshals of the field
Broke up the listes, their armes away to rend;
And Canacee gan wayle her dearest frend.
All suddenly they both upstarted light,

The one out of the swownd which him did blend,
The other breathing now another spright;
And fiercely each assayling gan afresh to fight.

Long while they then continued in that wize,
As if but then the battell had begonne:
Strokes, wounds, wards, weapons, all they did de-
Ne either car'd to ward, or perill shonne, [spise;

Desirous both to have the battell donne;
Ne either cared life to save or spill,

Ne which of them did winne, ne which were wonne;
So wearie both of fighting had their fill,
That life itselfe seemd loathsome, and long safetie ill.

Whilst thus the case in doubtfull ballance hong,
Unsure to whether side it would incline,
And all mens eyes and hearts, which there among
Stood gazing, filled were with rufull tine
And secret feare, to see their fatall fine;
All suddenly they heard a troublous noyes,
That seemd some perilous tumult to desine,
Confus'd with womeus cries and shouts of boyes,
Such as the troubled theatres ofttimes annoyes.

Thereat the champions both stood still a space,
To weeten what that sudden clamour ment:
Lo! where they spyde with speedie whirling pace
One in a charet of straunge furniment
Towards them driving like a storme out sent.
The charet decked was in wondrous wize
With gold and many a gorgeous ornament,
After the Persian monarchs antique guize,
Such as the maker selfe could best by art devize.

And drawne it was (that wonder is to tell)
Of two grim lyons, taken from the wood
In which their powre all others did excell,
Now made forget their former cruell mood,
T' obey their riders hest, as seemed good:
And therein sate a lady passing faire
And bright, that seemed borne of angels brood;
And, with her beautie, bountie did compare, [share.
Whether of them in her should have the greater

Thereto she learned was in magicke leare,
And all the artes that subtill wits discover,
Having therein bene trained many a yeare,
And well instructed by the Fay her mother,
That in the same she farre exceld all other:
Who, understanding by her mightie art
Of th' evill plight in which her dearest brother
Now stood, came forth in hast to take his part,
And pacifie the strife which causd so deadly smart.

And, as she passed through th' unruly preace
Of people thronging thicke her to behold,
Her angrie teame breaking their bonds of peace
Great heapes of them, like sheepe in narrow fold,
For hast did over-runne in dust enrould;
That, thorough rude confusion of the rout,
Some fearing shriekt, some being harmed hould,
Some laught for sport, some did for wonder shout,
And some, that would seeme wise, their wonder turnd
to dout.

In her right hand a rod of peace shee bore,
About the which two serpents weren wound,
Entrayled mutually in lovely lore,

And by the tailes together firmely bound,
And both were with one olive garland crownd;
(Like to the rod which Maias sonne doth wield,
Wherewith the hellish fiends he doth confound;)
And in her other hand a cup she hild,

The which was with nepenthe to the brim upfild.

Nepenthe is a drinck of soverayne grace,
Devized by the gods for to asswage
Harts grief, and bitter gall away to chace
Which stirs up anguish and contentious rage:
Instead thereof sweet peace and quiet age
It doth establish in the troubled mynd.
Few men, but such as sober are and sage,
Are by the gods to drinck thereof assynd;
But such as drinck, eternall happinesse do fynd.

Such famous men, such worthies of the Earth,
As love will have advaunced to the skie,
And there made gods, though borne of mortall berth,
For their high merits and great dignitie,
Are wont, before they may to Heaven flie,
To drincke thereof; whereby all cares forepast
Are washt away quite from their memorie:
So did those olde heroes hereof taste, [plaste.
Before that they in blisse amongst the gods were

Much more of price and of more gratious powre
Is this, then that same water of Ardenne,
The which Rinaldo drunck in happie howre,
Described by that famous Tuscane penne;
For that had might to change the hearts of men
Fro love to hate, a change of evill choise:
But this doth hatred make in love to brenne,
And heavy heart with comfort doth rejoyce.
Who would not to this vertue rather yeeld his voice!
At last arriving by the listës side

Shee with her rod did softly smite the raile,
Which straight flew ope and gave her way to ride.
Eftsoones out of her coch she gan availe,
And pacing fairely forth did bid all haile
First to her brother whom she loved deare,
That so to see him made her heart to quaile;
And next to Cambell, whose sad ruefull cheare
Made her to change her hew, and hidden love t' ap-

peare.

They lightly her requit, (for small delight
They had as then her long to entertaine)
And eft them turned both againe to fight:
Which when she saw, downe on the bloudy plaine
Herselfe she threw, and teares gan shed amaine;
Amongst her teares immixing prayers meeke,
And with her prayers reasons, to restraine
From blouddy strife; and, blessed peace to seeke,
By all that unto them was deare did them beseeke.

But whenas all might nought with them prevaile,
She smote them lightly with her powrefull wand:
Then suddenly, as if their hearts did faile,
Their wrathfull blades downe fell out of their hand,
And they, like men astonisht, still did stand.
Thus whilest their minds were doubtfully distraught,
And mighty spirites bound with mightier band,
Her golden cup to them for drinke she raught,
Whereof, full glad for thirst, ech drunk an harty
draught:

Of which so soone as they once tasted had,
Wonder it is that sudden change to see:
Instead of strokes, each other kissed glad,
And lovely haulst, from feare of treason free,
And plighted hands, for ever friends to be.
When all men saw this sudden change of things,
So mortall foes so friendly to agree,
For passing ioy, which so great marvaile brings,
They all gan shout aloud, that all the Heaven rings.

All which when gentle Canacee beheld,
In hast she from her lofty chaire descended,
To weet what sudden tidings was befeld :
Where when she saw that cruell war so ended,
And deadly foes so faithfully affrended,
In lovely wise she gan that lady greet,
Which had so great dismay so well amended;
And, entertaining her with curt'sies meet,
Profest to her true friendship and affection sweet.

Thus when they all accorded goodly were,
The trumpets sounded, and they all arose,
Thence to depart with glee and gladsome chere.
Those warlike champions both together chose
Homeward to march, themselves there to repose:
And wise Cambina, taking by her side
Faire Canacee as fresh as morning rose,
Unto her coch remounting, home did ride,
Admir'd of all the people and much glorifide.

Where making joyous feast their daies they spent
In perfect love, devoide of hatefull strife,
Allide with bands of mutuall couplement;
For Triamond had Canacee to wife,

With whom he ledd a long and happie life;
And Cambel tooke Cambina to his fere,
The which as life were each to other liefe.
So all alike did love, and loved were,

CANTO IV.

Satyrane makes a turneyment
For love of Florimell:
Britomart winnes the prize from all,
And Artegall doth quell.

It often fals, (as here it earst befell)
That mortall foes doe turne to faithfull frends,
And friends profest are chaungd to foemen fell
The cause of both of both their minds depends;
For enmitie, that of no ill proceeds
And th' end of both likewise of both their ends:

But of occasion, with th' occasion ends;
Without regard of good, dyes like ill-grounded seeds
And friendship, which a faint affection breeds

That well (me seemes) appeares by that of late
Twixt Cambell and sir Triamond befell;

As als by this; that now a new debate
Stird up twixt Blandamour and Paridelt,
The which by course befals me here to tell:
Who, having those two other knights espide
Marching afore, as ye remember well,
Sent forth their squire to have them both descride,
And eke those masked ladies riding them beside.

Who backe returning told, as he had seene,
That they were doughtie knights of dreaded name;
And those two ladies their two loves unseene;
And therefore wisht them without blot or blame
To let them passe at will, for dread of shame.
But Blandamour full of vain-glorious spright,
And rather stird by his discordfull dame,
Upon them gladly would have prov'd his might,
But that he yet was sore of his late lucklesse fight,

Yet nigh approching he them fowle bespake,
Disgracing them, himselfe thereby to grace,
As was his wont; so weening way to make
To ladies love, whereso he came in,place,
And with lewd termes their lovers to deface.
Whose sharpe provokement them incenst so sore,
That both were bent t' avenge his usage base,
And gan their shields addresse themselves afore:
For evill deedes may better then bad words be bore

But faire Cambina with perswasions myld
Did mitigate the fiercenesse of their mode,
That for the present they were reconcyl'd,
And gan to treate of deeds of armes abrode,
And strange adventures, all the way they rode:
Amongst the which they told, as then befell,
Of that great turney which was blazed brode,
For that rich girdle of faire Florimell,

elswere.

VOL III.

To which folke-mote they all with one consent,
Sith each of them his ladie had him by,
Whose beautie each of them thought excellent,
Agreed to travell, and their fortunes try.
So as they passed forth, they did espy
One in bright armes with ready speare in rest,
That toward them his course seem'd to apply;
Gainst whom sir Paridell himselfe addrest,
Him weening, ere he nigh approcht, to have represt.

P

Which th' other seeing gan his course relent,
And vaunted speare eftsoones to disadvaunce,
As if he naught but peace and pleasure ment,
Now falne into their fellowship by chance;
Whereat they shewed curteous countenaunce.
So as he rode with them accompanide,
His roving eie did on the lady glance
Which Blandamour had riding by his side: [eide.
Whom sure he weend that he somewhere tofore had

There this faire crew arriving did divide
Themselves asunder: Blandamour with those
Of his on th' one, the rest on th' other side.
But boastful Braggadochio rather chose,
For glorie vaine, their fellowship to lose,
That men on him the more might gaze alone.
The rest themselves in troupes did else dispose,
Like as it seemed best to every one; [attone.
The knights in couples marcht with ladies linckt

Then first of all forth came sir Satyrane,
Bearing that precious relicke in an arke
Of gold, that bad eyes might it not prophane;
Which drawing softly forth out of the darke,
He open shewd, that all men it mote marke;

spize;

And said; "Sir Knight, sith ye this lady clame,
Whom he that hath were loth to lose so light,
(For so to lose a lady was great shame)
Yee shall her winne, as I have done, in fight:
And lo! shee shall be placed here in sight
Together with this hag beside her set,
That whoso winnes her may her have by right;
But he shall have the hag that is ybet,
And with her alwaies ride, till he another get."

That offer pleased all the company:
So Florimell with Atè forth was brought,
At which they all gan laugh full merrily:
But Braggadochio said, he never thought
For such an hag, that seemed worst then nought,
His person to emperill so in fight:

But if to match that lady they had sought
Another like, that were like faire and bright,
His life he then would spend to iustifie his right.

At which his vaine excuse they all gan smile,
As scorning his unmanly cowardize:
And Florimell him fowly gan revile,
That for her sake refus'd to enterprize
The battell, offred in so knightly wize;
And Atè eke provokt him privily
With love of her, and shame of such mesprize.
But naught he car'd for friend or enemy;
For in base mind nor friendship dwels nor enmity.

But Cambell thus did shut up all in iest;
"Brave knights and ladies, certes ye doe wrong
To stirre up strife, when most us needeth rest,
That we may us reserve both fresh and strong
Against the turneiment which is not long,
When whoso list to fight may fight his fill:
Till then your challenges ye may prolong;
And then it shall be tried, if ye will,
Whether shall have the hag, or hold the lady still.”

They all agreed; so, turning all to game
And pleasaunt bord, they past forth on their way;
And all that while, whereso they rode or came,
That masked mock-knight was their sport and play.
Till that at length upon th' appointed day
Unto the place of turneyment they came;
Where they before them found in fresh aray
Manie a brave knight and manie a daintie dame
Assembled for to get the honour of that game.

A gorgeous girdle, curiously embost

With pearle and precious stone, worth many a marke; Yet did the workmanship farre passe the cost:

The same alofte he hung in open vew,
To be the prize of beautie and of might;
The which, eftsoones discovered, to it drew
The eyes of all, allur'd with close delight,
And hearts quite robbed with so glorious sight,
That all men threw out vowes and wishes vaine.
Thrise happie ladie, and thrise happie knight,
Them seemd that could so goodly riches gaine,
So worthie of the perill, worthy of the paine.

Then tooke the bold sir Satyrane in hand
An huge great speare, such as he wont to wield,
And, vauncing forth from all the other band
Of knights, addrest his maiden-headed shield,
Shewing himselfe all readie for the field:
Gainst whom there singled from the other side
A Painim knight that well in armes was skil'd,
And had in many a battell oft bene tride,
Hight Bruncheval the bold, who fiersly forth did ride.

So furiously they both together met,
That neither could the others force sustaine:
As two fierce buls, that strive the rule to get
Of all the heard, meete with so hideous maine,
That both rebutted tumble on the plaine;
So these two champions to the ground were feld;
Where in a maze they both did long remaine,
And in their hands their idle troncheons held,
Which neither able were to wag, or once to weld.

Which when the noble Ferramont espide,
He pricked forth in ayd of Satyran;
And him against sir Blandamour did ride
With all the strength and stifnesse that he can:
But the more strong and stiffely that he ran,
So much more sorely to the ground he fell,
That on an heape were tumbled horse and man:
Unto whose rescue forth rode Paridell;

But him likewise with that same speare he eke die quell.

Which Braggadochio seeing had no will
To hasten greatly to his parties ayd,
Albee his turne were next; but stood there still,
As one that seemed doubtfull or dismayd:
But Triamond, halfe wroth to see him staid,
Sternly stept forth, and raught away his speare,
With which so sore he Ferramont assaid,
That horse and man to ground he quite did beare,
That neither could in hast themselves again upreare.

Which to avenge sir Devon him did dight,
But with no better fortune then the rest;
For him likewise he quickly downe did smight:
And after him sir Douglas him addrest;
And after him sir Palimord forth prest;
But none of them against his strokes could stand;
But, all the more, the more his praise increst :
For either they were left upon the land,

Or went away sore wounded of his haplesse hand.

And now by this sir Satyrane abraid

Out of the swowne, in which too long he lay;
And looking round about, like one dismaid,
Whenas he saw the mercilesse affray
Which doughty Triamond had wrought that day
Unto the noble knights of Maidenhead,
His mighty heart did almost rend in tway
For very gall, that rather wholly dead
Himselfe he wisht have beene then in so bad a stead.

Eftsoones he gan to gather up around
His weapons which lay scattered all abrode,
And, as it fell, his steed he ready found:
On whom remounting fiercely forth he rode,
Like sparke of fire that from the andvile glode,
There where he saw the valiant Triamond
Chasing, and laying on them heavy lode,
That none his force were able to withstond;
So dreadfull were his strokes, so deadly was his hond.

With that, at him his beamlike speare he aimed,
And thereto all his power and might applide:
The wicked steele for mischiefe first ordained,
And having now Misfortune got for guide,
Staid not till it arrived in his side,
And therein made a very griesly wound,
That streames of blood his armour all bedide.
Much was he daunted with that direfull stownd,
That scarse he him upheld from falling in a sound.

Yet, as he might, himselfe he soft withdrew
Out of the field, that none perceiv'd it plaine:
Then gan the part of chalengers anew
To range the field, and victorlike to raine,
That none against them battell durst maintaine.
By that the gloomy evening on them fell,
That forced them from fighting to refraine,
And trumpets sound to cease did them compell:

[fell.

So as they courst, and turneyd here and theare,
It chaunst sir Satyrane his steed at last,
Whether through foundring or through sodein feare,
To stumble, that his rider nigh he cast;
Which vauntage Cambell did pursue so fast,
That, ere himselfe he had recovered well,
So sore he sowst him on the compast creast,
That forced him to leave his loftie sell,
And rudely tumbling downe under his horse-feete
Lightly Cambello leapt downe from his steed
For to have rent his shield and armes away,
That whylome wont to be the victors meed;
When all unwares he felt an hideous sway
Of many swords that lode on him did lay:
An hundred knights had him enclosed round,
To rescue Satyrane out of his pray;

All which at once huge strokes on him did pound,
In hope to take him prisoner, where he stood on

ground.

He with their multitude was nought dismayd,
But with stout courage turnd upon them all,
And with his brond-iron round about him layd;
Of which he dealt large almes, as did befall:
Like as a lion, that by chaunce doth fall
Into the hunters toile, doth rage and rore,
In royall heart disdaining to be thrall:
But all in vaine: for what might one do more?

The morrow next the turney gan anew;
And with the first the hardy Satyrane
Appear'd in place, with all his noble crew:
On the other side full many a warlike swaine
Assembled were, that glorious prize to gaine.
But mongst them all was not sir Triamond;
Unable he new battell to darraine,
Through grievaunce of his late received wound,
That doubly did him grieve when so himselfe he
found.

Which Cambell seeing, though he could not salve,
Ne done undoe, yet, for to salve his name
And purchase honour in his friends behalve,
This goodly counterfesaunce he did frame:
The shield and armes, well knowne to be the same
Which Triamond had worne, unwares to wight
And to his friend unwist, for doubt of blame
If he misdid, he on himselfe did dight, [to fight.
That none could him discerne; and so went forth

sore.

Whereof when newes to Triamond was brought
Thereas he lay, his wound he soone forgot,
And starting up streight for his armour sought:
In vaine he sought; for there he found it not;
Cambello it away before had got:
Cambelloes armes therefore he on him threw,
And lightly issewd forth to take his lot.
There he in troupe found all that warlike crew
Leading his friend away, full sorie to his vew.

Into the thickest of that knightly preasse
He thrust, and smote downe all that was betweene,
Caried with fervent zeale; ne did he ceasse,
Till that he came where he had Cambell seene
Like captive thral two other knights atweene:
There he amongst them cruell havocke makes,
That they, which lead him, soone enforced beene
To let him loose to save their proper stakes;
Who, being freed, from one a weapon fiercely takes:

Both in remembrance of his friends late harme,
And in revengement of his owne despight:

So both together give a new allarme,
As if but now the battell wexed warme.

As when two greedy wolves doe breake by force

Into an heard, farre from the husband farme, They spoile and ravine without all remorse:

That did amongst the troupes so tyrannize;
And each of other gan inquire his name:
But, when they could not learne it by no wize,
Most answerable to his wyld disguize

It seemed, him to terme the Salvage Knight:
But certes his right name was otherwize,
Though knowne to few that Arthegall he hight,

Fiercely they followd on their bolde emprize,
Till trumpets sound did warne them all to rest:
Then all with one consent did yeeld the prize
To Triamond and Cambell as the best:
But Triamond to Cambell it relest,
And Cambell it to Triamond transferd;
Each labouring ť' advance the others gest,
And make his praise before his owne preferd:
So that the doome was to another day differd.

The last day came; when all those knightes againe
Assembled were their deedes of armes to shew.
Full many deedes that day were shewed plaine:
But Satyrane, bove all the other crew,
His wondrous worth declard in all mens view;
For from the first he to the last endured:
And though some while Fortune from him withdrew,
Yet evermore his honour he recured,
And with unwearied powre his party still assured.

Ne was there knight that ever thought of armes, But that his utmost prowesse there made knowen: That, by their many wounds and carelesse harmes, By shivered speares and swords all under strowen, By scattered shields, was easie to be showen. There might ye see loose steeds at randon ronne, Whose lucklesse riders late were overthrowen; And squiers make hast to helpe their lords fordonne: But still the knights of Maidenhead the better wonne.

Till that there entred on the other side

A straunger knight, from whence no man could reed,
In quyent disguise, full hard to be descride:
For all his armour was like salvage weed
With woody mosse bedight, and all his steed
With oaken leaves attrapt, that seemed fit
For salvage wight, and thereto well agreed
His word, which on his ragged shield was writ,
Salvagesse sans finesse, shewing secret wit.

He, at his first incomming, charg'd his spere
At him that first appeared in his sight;
That was to weet the stout sir Sangliere,
Who well was knowen to be a valiant knight,
Approved oft in many a perlous fight:
Him at the first encounter downe he smote,
And over-bore beyond his crouper quight;
And after him another knight, that hote
Sir Brianor, se sore, that none him life behote.

Then, ere his hand he reard, he overthrew
Seven knights one after other as they came:
And, when his speare was brust, his sword he drew,
The instrument of wrath, and with the same
Far'd like a lyon in his bloodie game,
Hewing and slashing shields and belmets bright,
And beating downe whatever nigh him came,
That every one gan shun his dreadfull sight
No lesse then death itselfe, in daungerous affright.

of might.

Thus was sir Satyrane with all his band

By his sole manhood and atchievement stout
Dismay'd, that none of them in field durst stand,
But beaten were and chased all about,
So he continued all that day throughout,
Till evening that the Sunne gan downward bend:
Then rushed forth out of the thickest rout
A stranger knight, that did his glorie shend:
So nought may be esteemed happie till the end!

He at his entrance charg'd his powrefull speare
At Arthegall, in middest of his pryde,
And therewith smote him on his umbriere
So sore, that tombling backe he downe did slyde
Over his horses taile above a stryde;
Whence litle lust he had to rise againe.
Which Cambell seeing, much the same envyde,
And ran at him with all his might and maine;
But shortly was likewise seene lying on the plaine.

Whereat full inly worth was Triamond,
And cast t' avenge the shame doen to his freend:
But by his friend himselfe eke soone he fond
In no lesse neede of helpe then him he weend.
All which when Blandamoar from end to end
Beheld, he woxe therewith displeased sore,
And thought in mind it shortly to amend :
His speare he feutred, and at him it bore;
But with no better fortune then the rest afore.

Full many others at him likewise ran;
But all of them likewise dismounted were:
Ne certes wonder; for no powre of man
Could bide the force of that enchaunted speare,
The which this famous Britomart did beare;
With which she wondrous deeds of arms atchieved,
And overthrew whatever came her neare,
That all those stranger knights full sore agrieved,
And that late weaker band of chalengers relieved,

Like as in sommers day witen raging heat
Doth burne the earth and boyled rivers drie,
That all brate beasts forst to refraine fro meat
Doe hunt for shade where shrowded they may lie,
And, missing it, faine from themselves to flie;
All travellers tormented are with paine:
A watry cloud doth overcast the skie,
And poureth forth a sudden shoure of raine,
That all the wretched world recomforteth againe:

So did the warlike Britomart restore
The prize to knights of Maydenhead that day,
Which else was like to have been lost, and bore
The prayse of prowesse from them all away.
Then shrilling trompets loudly gan to bray,
And bad them leave their labours and long toyle
To ioyous feast and other gentle play,
Where beauties prize shouldwin that pretious spoyle:
Where I with sound of trompe will also rest awhyle.