There they did thinke themselves on her to wreake:
Who as she nigh unto them drew, the one
These vile reproches gan unto her speake;
"Thou recreant false traytor, that with lone
Of armes hast knighthood stolne, yet knight art none,
No more shall now the darkenesse of the night
Defend thee from the vengeance of thy fone;
But with thy bloud thou shalt appease the spright
Of Guizor by thee slaine and murdred by thy slight."

Strange were the words in Britomartis eare;
Yet stayd she not for them, but forward fared,
Till to the perilous bridge she came; and there
Talus desir'd that he might have prepared
The way to her, and those two losels scared:
But she thereat was wroth, that for despight
The glauncing sparkles through her bever glared,
And from her eies did flash out fiery light,
Like coles that through a silver censer sparkle bright.

She stayd not to advise which way to take;
But, putting spurres unto her fiery beast,
Thorough the midst of them she way did make.
The one of them, which most her wrath increast,
Uppon her speare she bore before her breast,
Till to the bridges further end she past;
Where falling downe his challenge he releast:
The other over side the bridge she cast
Into the river, where he drunke his deadly last.

As when the flashing levin haps to light
Uppon two stubborne oakes, which stand so neare
That way betwixt them none appeares in sight;
The engin, fiercely flying forth, doth teare

Th' one from the earth, and through the aire doth
The other it with force doth overthrow [beare;
Uppon one side, and from his rootes doth reave:
So did the championesse those two there strow,
And to their sire their carcassess left to bestow.

CANTO VII.

Britomart comes to Isis Church, Where shee strange visions sees : She fights with Radigund, her slaies, And Artegall thence frees.

NOUGHT is on Earth more sacred or divine,
That gods and men doe equally adore,
Then this same vertue that doth right define:
For th' Hevens themselves, whence mortal men
implore

Right in their wrongs, are rul'd by righteous lore
Of highest love, who doth true iustice deale
To his inferiour gods, and evermore
Therewith containes his heavenly common weale:
The skill whereof to princes hearts he doth reveale.

Well therefore did the antique world invent
That Iustice was a god of soveraine grace
And altars unto him and temples lent,
And heavenly honours in the highest place;
Calling him great Osyris, of the race

Of th' old Egyptian kings that whylome were;
With fayned colours shading a true case;
For that Osyris, whilest he lived here,

The iustest man alive and truest did appeare.

One foote was set appon the crocodile,
And on the ground the other fast did stand;
So meaning to suppresse both forged guile
And open force: and in her other hand
She stretched forth a long white sclender wand.
Such was the goddesse: whom when Britomart
Had long beheld, herselfe uppon the land
She did prostrate, and with right humble hart
Unto herselfe her silent prayers did impart.

To which the idoll as it were inclining
Her wand did move with amiable looke,
By outward shew her inward sence desining:
Who well perceiving how her wand she shooke,
It as a token of good fortune tooke.

By this the day with dampe was overcast,
And ioyous light the house of love forsooke:
Which when she saw, her helmet she unlaste,
And by the altars side herselfe to slumber plaste.

For other beds the priests there used none,
But on their mother Earths deare lap did lie,
And bake their sides uppon the cold hard stone,
Tenure themselves to sufferaunce thereby,
And proud rebellious flesh to mortify:
For, by the vow of their religion,
They tied were to stedfast chastity
And continence of life; that, all forgon,
They mote the better tend to their devotion

Therefore they mote not taste of fleshly food,
Ne feed on ought the which doth blond containe,
Ne drinke of wine; for wine they say is blood,
Even the bloud of gyants, which were slaine
By thundring love in the Phlegrean plaine:
For which the Earth (as they the story tell)
Wroth with the gods, which to perpetuall paine
Had damn'd her sonnes which gainst them did rebell,
With inward griefe and malice did against them swell:

And of their vitall bloud, the which was shed
Into her pregnant bosome, forth she brought
The fruitfull vine; whose liquor blonddy red,
Having the mindes of men with fury fraught,
Mote in them stirre up old rebellious thought
To make new warre against the gods againe :
Such is the powre of that same fruit, that nought
The fell contagion may thereof restraine,

Ne within reasons rule her madding mood containe.

There did the warlike maide herselfe repose,
Under the wings of Isis all that night;
And with sweete rest her heavy eyes did close,
After that long daies toile and weary plight:
Where whilest her earthly parts with soft delight
Of sencelesse sleepe did deeply drowned lie,
There did appeare unto her heavenly spright
A wondrous vision, which did close implie
The course of all her fortune and posteritie.

Her seem'd, as she was doing sacrifize
To Isis, deckt with mitre on her hed
And linnen stole after those priestës gnize,
All sodainely she saw transfigured
Her linnen stole to robe of scarlet red,
And moone-like mitre to a crowne of gold;
That even she herselfe much wondered
At such a chaunge, and ioyed to behold
Herselfe adorn'd with gems and jewels manifold.

And, in the midst of her felicity,

An hideous tempest seemed from below
To rise through all the temple sodainely,
That from the altar all about did blow
The holy fire, and all the embers strow
Uppon the ground; which, kindled privily,
Into outragious flames unwares did grow,
That all the temple put in ieopardy
Of flaming, and herselfe in great perplexity.

With that the crocodile, which sleeping lay
Under the idols feete in fearelesse bowre,
Seem'd to awake in horrible dismay,
As being troubled with that stormy stowre;
And gaping greedy wide did streight devoure
Both flames and tempest; with which growen great,
And swolne with pride of his owne peerelesse powre,
He gan to threaten her likewise to eat; [beat.
But that the goddesse with her rod him backe did

Tho, turning all his pride to humblesse meeke,
Himselfe before her feete he lowly threw,
And gan for grace and love of her to seeke:
Which she accepting, he so neare her drew,
That of his game she soone enwombed grew,
And forth did bring a lion of great might,
That shortly did all other beasts subdew:
With that she waked full of fearefull fright,
And doubtfully dismayd through that so uncouth
sight.

So thereuppon long while she musing lay,
With thousand thoughts feeding her fantasie;
Untill she spide the lampe of lightsome day
Up-lifted in the porch of Heaven hie:
Then up she rose fraught with melancholy,
And forth into the lower parts did pas,
Whereas the priests she found full busily
About their holy things for morrow mas;
Whom she saluting faire, faire resaluted was:

But, by the change of her unchearefull looke,
They might perceive she was not well in plight,
Or that some pensiveness to heart she tooke:
Therefore thus one of them, who seem'd in sight
To be the greatest and the gravest wight,
To her bespake; "Sir Knight, it seemes to me
That, thorough evill rest of this last night,
Or ill apayd or much dismayd ye be;
That by your change of cheare is easie for to see.”

"Certes," sayd she, "sith ye so well have spide
The troublous passion of my pensive mind,
I will not seeke the same from you to hide;
But will my cares unfolde, in hope to find
Your aide to guide me out of errour blind."
"Say on," quoth he, "the secret of your hart:
For, by the holy vow which me doth bind,
I am adiur'd best counsell to impart

To all that shall require my comfort in their smart."

Then gan she to declare the whole discourse
Of all that vision which to her appeard,
As well as to her minde it had recourse.
All which when he unto the end had heard,
Like to a weake faint-hearted man he fared
Through great astonishment of that strange sight;
And, with long locks up-standing stifly, stared
Like one adawed with some dreadfull spright:
So fild with heavenly fury thus he her behight;

At last whenas to her owne love she came,
Whom like disguize no lesse deformed had,
At sight thereof abasht with secrete shame
She turnd her head aside, as nothing glad
To have beheld a spectacle so bad;

And then too well believ'd that which tofore
Iealous suspect as true untruely drad:
Which vaine conceipt now nourishing no more,
She sought with ruth to salve his sad misfortunes sore.

Not so great wonder and astonishment
Did the most chast Penelope possesse,
To see her lord, that was reported drent
And dead long since in dolorous distresse,
Come home to her in piteous wretchednesse,
After long travell of full twenty yeares;
That she knew not his favours likelynesse,
For many scarres and many hoary heares; [feares.
But stood long staring on him mongst uncertaine
"Ah! my deare lord, what sight is this," quoth she,
"What May-game hath misfortune made of you?
Where is that dreadfull manly looke? where be
Those mighty palmes, the which ye wont t' embrew
In bloud of kings, and great hoastes to subdew?
Could ought on Earth so wondrous change have
wrought,

As to have robde you of that manly hew?
Could so great courage stouped have to ought?
Then farewell, fleshly force; I see thy pride is
nought!"

Thenceforth she streight into a bowre him brought,
And causd him those uncomely weedes undight;
And in their steede for other rayment sought,
Whereof there was great store, and armors bright,
Which had bene reft from many a noble knight;
Whom that proud Amazon subdewed had,
Whilest fortune favourd her successe in fight:
In which whenas she him anew had clad, [glad.
She was reviv'd, and ioyd much in his semblance

So there awhile they afterwards remained,
Him to refresh, and her late wounds to heale:
During which space she there as princess rained;
And changing all that forme of common-weale
The liberty of women did repeale,

Which they had long usurpt; and, them restoring
To mens subiection, did true iustice deale:
That all they, as a goddesse her adoring, [loring.
Her wisedome did admire, and hearkned to her

For all those knights, which long in captive shade
Had shrowded bene, she did from thraldome free;
And magistrates of all that city made,
And gave to them great living and large fee:
And, that they should for ever faithfull bee,
Made them sweare fealty to Artegall:
Who when himselfe now well recur'd did see,
He purposd to proceed, whatso befall,
Uppon his first adventure which him forth did call.

Full sad and sorrowfull was Britomart
For his departure, her new cause of griefe;
Yet wisely moderated her owne smart,
Seeing his honor, which she tendred chiefe,
Consisted much in that adventures priefe:
The care whereof, and hope of his successe,
Gave unto her great comfort and reliefe;
That womanish complaints she did represse,
And tempred for the time her present heavinesse.

There she continu'd for a certaine space,

Till through his want her woe did more increase:
Then, hoping that the change of aire and place
Would change her paine and sorrow somewhat ease,
She parted thence, her anguish to appease.
Meane while her noble lord sir Artegall
Went on his way; ne ever howre did cease,
Till he redeemed had that lady thrall:
That for another canto will more fitly fall.

CANTO VIII.

Prince Arthure and sir Artegall
Free Samient from feare:
They slay the Soudan; drive his wife
Adicia to despaire.

NOUGHT under Heaven so strongly doth allure
The sence of man, and all his minde possesse,
As beauties lovely baite, that doth procure
Great warriours oft their rigour to represse,
And mighty hands forget their manlinesse;
Drawne with the powre of an heart-robbing eye,
And wrapt in fetters of a golden tresse,
Their hardned hearts enur'd to bloud and cruelty.
That can with melting pleasaunce mollifye

So whylome learnd that mighty lewish swaine,
Each of whose lockes did match a man in might,
To lay his spoiles before his lemans traine:
So also did that great Oetean knight
For his love sake his lions skin undight;
And so did warlike Antony neglect

The worlds whole rule for Cleopatras sight.
Such wondrous powre hath wemens faire aspect
To captive men, and make them all the world reiect.

Yet could it not sterne Artegall retaine,
Nor hold from suite of his avowed quest,
Which he had undertane to Gloriane;
But left his love (albe her strong request)
Faire Britomart in languor and unrest,
And rode himselfe uppon his first intent:
Ne day nor night did ever idly rest;
Ne wight but onely Talus with him went,
The true guide of his way and vertuous government.

So travelling, he chaunst far off to heed
A damzell flying on a palfrey fast
Before two knights that after her did speed
With all their powre, and her full fiercely chast
In hope to have her overhent at last:

Yet fled she fast, and both them farre outwent,
Carried with wings of feare, like fowle aghast,
With locks all loose, and rayment all to rent ;
And ever as she rode her eye was backeward bent.

Soone after these he saw another knight,
That after those two former rode apace
With speare in rest, and prickt with all his might:
So ran they all, as they had bene at bace,
They being chased that did others chace.
At length he saw the hindmost overtake
One of those two, and force him turne his face;
However loth he were his way to slake,

Yet mote he algates now abide, and answere make.

But th' other still pursu'd the fearefull mayd;
Who still from him as fast away did flie,
Ne once for ought her speedy passage stayd,
Till that at length she did before her spie
Sir Artegall, to whom she streight did hie
With gladfull hast, in hope of him to get
Succour against her greedy enimy:
Who seeing her approch gan forward set

To save her from her feare, and him from force to let.

But he, like hound full greedy of his pray,

Being impatient of impediment,

Continu'd still his course, and by the way

Thought with his speare him quight have overwent.

So both together, ylike felly bent,

Like fiercely met: but Artegall was stronger,
And better skild in tilt and turnament,

And bore him quite out of his saddle, longer
Then two speares length: so mischiefe overmatcht
the wronger:

And in his fall misfortune him mistooke;
For on his head unhappily he pight,
That his owne waight his necke asunder broke,.
And left there dead. Meane while the other knight
Defeated had the other faytour quight,
And all his bowels in his body brast:
Whom leaving there in that dispiteous plight,
He ran still on, thinking to follow fast

His other fellow Pagan which before him past.

Instead of whom finding there ready prest
Sir Artegall, without discretion

He at him ran with ready speare in rest:
Who, seeing him come still so fiercely on,
Against him made againe: so both anon
Together met, and strongly either strooke
And broke their speares; yet neither has forgon
His horses backe, yet to and fro long shooke
And tottred, like two towres which through a tem-
pest quooke.

But, when againe they had recovered sence,
They drew their swords, in mind to make amends
For what their speares had fayld of their pretence:
Which when the damzell, who those deadly ends
Of both her foes had seene, and now her frends
For her beginning a more fearefull fray;
She to them runnes in hast, and her haire rends,
Crying to them their cruell hands to stay,
Untill they both do heare what she to them will say.

They stayd their hands; when she thus gan to speake;
"Ah! gentle knights, what meane ye thus unwise
Upon yourselves anothers wrong to wreake?
I am the wrong'd, whom ye did enterprise
Both to redresse, and both redrest likewise:
Witnesse the Paynims both, whom ye may see
There dead on ground: what doe ye then devise
Of more revenge? if more, then I am shee [mee."
Which was the roote of all; end your revenge on

Whom when they heard so say, they lookt about
To weete if it were true as she had told;
Where when they saw their foes dead out of doubt,
Eftsoones they gan their wrothfull hands to hold,
And ventailes reare each other to behold.
Tho, when as Artegall did Arthure vew,
So faire a creature and so wondrous bold,
He much admired both his heart and hew,
And touched with intire affection nigh him drew;

"Her name Mercilla most men use to call;
That is a mayden queene of high renowne,
For her great bounty knowen over all
And soveraine grace, with which her royall crowne
She doth support, and strongly beateth downe
The malice of her foes, which her envy
And at her happinesse do fret and frowne;
Yet she herselfe the more doth magnify,
And even to her foes her mercies multiply.

"Mongst many which maligne her happy state,
There is a mighty man, which wonnes here by,
That with most fell despight and deadly hate
Seekes to subvert her crowne and dignity,
And all his powre doth thereunto apply:
And her good knights, (of which so brave a band
Serves her as any princesse under sky)
He either spoiles, if they against him stand,
Or to his part allures, and bribeth under hand.
"Ne him sufficeth all the wrong and ill,
Which he unto her people does each day;
But that he seekes by trayterous traines to spill
Her person, and her sacred selfe to slay:
That, O ye Heavens, defend! and turne away
From her unto the miscreant himselfe ;
That neither hath religion nor fay,
But makes his god of his ungodly pelfe,
And idoles serves: so let his idols serve the Elfe!