But made him stagger, as he were not well: 95
But Guyon selfe, ere well he was aware,
Nigh a speares length behind his crouper fell;
Yet in his fall so well him selfe he bare,
That mischievous mischaunce his life and limbs did spare.
VII
Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke; 100
For never yet, sith warlike armes he bore,
And shivering speare in bloody field first shooke,
He fownd him selfe dishonored so sore.
Ah! gentlest knight that ever armor bore,
Let not thee grieve dismounted to have beene, 105
And brought to grownd, that never wast before;
For not thy fault, but secret powre unseene:
That speare enchaunted was, which layd thee on the greene.
VIII
But weenedst thou what wight thee overthrew,
Much greater griefe and shamefuller regrett 110
For thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew,
That of a single damzell thou wert mett
On equall plaine, and there so hard besett:
Even the famous Britomart it was,
Whom straunge adventure did from Britayne fett, 115
To seeke her lover, (love far sought, alas!)
Whose image shee had seene in Venus looking glas.
IX
Full of disdainefull wrath, he fierce uprose,
For to revenge that fowle reprochefull shame,
And snatching his bright sword, began to close 120
With her on foot, and stoutly forward came;
Dye rather would he then endure that same.
Which when his palmer saw, he gan to feare
His toward perill and untoward blame,
Which by that new rencounter he should reare: 125
For death sate on the point of that enchaunted speare.
X
And hasting towards him gan fayre perswade,
Not to provoke misfortune, nor to weene
His speares default to mend with cruell blade:
For by his mightie science he had seene 130
The secrete vertue of that weapon keene,
That mortall puissaunce mote not withstond:
Nothing on earth mote alwaies happy beene.
Great hazard were it, and adventure fond,
To loose long gotten honour with one evill hond. 135
XI
By such good meanes he him discounselled
From prosecuting his revenging rage;
And eke the Prince like treaty handeled,
His wrathfull will with reason to aswage,
And laid the blame, not to his carriage, 140
But to his starting steed, that swarv’d asyde,
And to the ill purveyaunce of his page,
That had his furnitures not firmely tyde:
So is his angry corage fayrly pacifyde.
XII
Thus reconcilement was betweene them knitt, 145
Through goodly temperaunce and affection chaste;
And either vowd with all their power and witt,
To let not others honour be defaste
Of friend or foe, who ever it embaste,
Ne armes to beare against the others syde: 150
In which accord the Prince was also plaste,
And with that golden chaine of concord tyde.
So goodly all agreed, they forth yfere did ryde.
XIII
O goodly usage of those antique tymes,
In which the sword was servaunt unto right! 155
When not for malice and contentious crymes,
But all for prayse, and proofe of manly might,
The martiall brood accustomed to fight:
Then honour was the meed of victory,
And yet the vanquished had no despight: 160
Let later age that noble use envy,
Vyle rancor to avoid, and cruel surquedry.
XIV
Long they thus traveiled in friendly wise,
Through countreyes waste and eke well edifyde,
Seeking adventures hard, to exercise 165
Their puissaunce, whylome full dernly tryde:
At length they came into a forest wyde,
Whose hideous horror and sad trembling sownd
Full griesly seemd: therein they long did ryde,
Yet tract of living creature none they fownd, 170
Save beares, lyons, and buls, which romed them arownd.
XV
All suddenly out of the thickest brush,
Upon a milkwhite palfrey all alone,
A goodly lady did foreby them rush,
Whose face did seeme as cleare as christall stone, 175
And eke through feare as white as whales bone:
Her garments all were wrought of beaten gold,
And all her steed with tinsell trappings shone,
Which fledd so fast that nothing mote him hold,
And scarse them leasure gave, her passing to behold. 180
XVI
Still as she fledd her eye she backward threw,
As fearing evill that poursewd her fast;
And her faire yellow locks behind her flew,
Loosely disperst with puff of every blast:
All as a blazing starre doth farre outcast 185
His hearie beames, and flaming lockes dispredd,
At sight whereof the people stand aghast:
But the sage wisard telles, as he has redd,
That it importunes death and dolefull dreryhedd.
XVII
So as they gazed after her a whyle, 190
Lo! where a griesly foster forth did rush,
Breathing out beastly lust her to defyle:
His tyreling jade he fiersly forth did push,
Through thicke and thin, both over banck and bush,
In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke, 195
That from his gory sydes the blood did gush:
Large were his limbes, and terrible his looke,
And in his clownish hand a sharp bore speare he shooke.
XVIII
Which outrage when those gentle knights did see,
Full of great envy and fell gealosy, 200
They stayd not to avise who first should bee,
But all spurd after fast as they mote fly,
To reskew her from shamefull villany.
The Prince and Guyon equally bylive
Her selfe pursewd, in hope to win thereby 205
Most goodly meede, the fairest dame alive:
But after the foule foster Timias did strive.
XIX
The whiles faire Britomart, whose constant mind
Would not so lightly follow beauties chace,
Ne reckt of ladies love, did stay behynd, 210
And them awayted there a certaine space,
To weet if they would turne backe to that place:
But when she saw them gone, she forward went,
As lay her journey, through that perlous pace,
With stedfast corage and stout hardiment; 215
Ne evil thing she feard, ne evill thing she ment.
XX
At last, as nigh out of the wood she came,
A stately castle far away she spyde,
To which her steps directly she did frame.
That castle was most goodly edifyde, 220
And plaste for pleasure nigh that forrest syde:
But faire before the gate a spatious playne,
Mantled with greene, it selfe did spredden wyde,
On which she saw six knights, that did darrayne
Fiers battaill against one, with cruel might and mayne. 225
XXI
Mainely they all attonce upon him laid,
And sore beset on every side arownd,
That nigh he breathlesse grew, yet nought dismaid,
Ne ever to them yielded foot of grownd,
All had he lost much blood through many a wownd, 230
But stoutly dealt his blowes, and every way,
To which he turned in his wrathfull stownd,
Made them recoile, and fly from dredd decay,
That none of all the six before him durst assay.
XXII
Like dastard curres, that, having at a bay 235
The salvage beast embost in wearie chace,
Dare not adventure on the stubborne pray,
Ne byte before, but rome from place to place,
To get a snatch, when turned is his face.
In such distresse and doubtfull jeopardy 240
When Britomart him saw, she ran apace
Unto his reskew, and with earnest cry
Badd those same sixe forbeare that single enimy.
XXIII
But to her cry they list not lenden eare,
Ne ought the more their mightie strokes surceasse, 245
But gathering him rownd about more neare,
Their direfull rancour rather did encreasse;
Till that she, rushing through the thickest preasse,
Perforce disparted their compacted gyre,
And soone compeld to hearken unto peace: 250
Tho gan she myldly of them to inquyre
The cause of their dissention and outrageous yre.
XXIV
Whereto that single knight did answere frame:
‘These six would me enforce by oddes of might,
To chaunge my liefe, and love another dame, 255
That death me liefer were then such despight,
So unto wrong to yield my wrested right:
For I love one, the truest one on grownd,
Ne list me chaunge; she th’ Errant Damzell hight;
For whose deare sake full many a bitter stownd 260
I have endurd, and tasted many a bloody wownd.’
XXV
‘Certes,’ said she, ‘then beene ye sixe to blame,
To weene your wrong by force to justify:
For knight to leave his lady were great shame,
That faithfull is, and better were to dy. 265
All losse is lesse, and lesse the infamy,
Then losse of love to him that loves but one:
Ne may love be compeld by maistery;
For soone as maistery comes, sweet Love anone
Taketh his nimble winges, and soone away is gone.’ 270
XXVI
Then spake one of those six: ‘There dwelleth here,
Within this castle wall, a lady fayre,
Whose soveraine beautie hath no living pere;
Thereto so bounteous and so debonayre,
That never any mote with her compayre. 275
She hath ordaind this law, which we approve,
That every knight, which doth this way repayre,
In case he have no lady nor no love,
Shall doe unto her service, never to remove.
XXVII
‘But if he have a lady or a love, 280
Then must he her forgoe with fowle defame,
Or els with us by dint of sword approve,
That she is fairer then our fairest dame;
As did this knight, before ye hether came.’
‘Perdy,’ said Britomart, ‘the choise is hard: 285
But what reward had he that overcame?’
‘He should advaunced bee to high regard,’
Said they, ‘and have our ladies love for his reward.
XXVIII
‘Therefore aread, sir, if thou have a love.’
‘Love have I sure,’ quoth she, ‘but lady none; 290
Yet will I not fro mine owne love remove,
Ne to your lady will I service done,
But wreake your wronges wrought to this knight alone,
And prove his cause.’ With that, her mortall speare
She mightily aventred towards one, 295
And downe him smot ere well aware he weare;
Then to the next she rode, and downe the next did beare.
XXIX
Ne did she stay, till three on ground she layd,
That none of them himselfe could reare againe;
The fourth was by that other knight dismayd, 300
All were he wearie of his former paine,
That now there do but two of six remaine;
Which two did yield before she did them smight.
‘Ah!’ sayd she then, ‘now may ye all see plaine,
That truth is strong, and trew love most of might, 305
That for his trusty servaunts doth so strongly fight.’
XXX
‘Too well we see,’ saide they, ‘and prove too well
Our faulty weakenes, and your matchlesse might:
Forthy, faire sir, yours be the damozell,
Which by her owne law to your lot doth light, 310
And we your liege men faith unto you plight.’
So underneath her feet their swords they mard,
And after, her besought, well as they might,
To enter in and reape the dew reward:
She graunted, and then in they all together far’d. 315
XXXI
Long were it to describe the goodly frame
And stately port of Castle Joyeous,
(For so that castle hight by commun name)
Where they were entertaynd with courteous
And comely glee of many gratious 320
Faire ladies, and of many a gentle knight,
Who through a chamber long and spacious,
Eftsoones them brought unto their ladies sight,
That of them cleeped was the Lady of Delight.
XXXII
But for to tell the sumptuous aray 325
Of that great chamber should be labour lost:
For living wit, I weene, cannot display
The roiall riches and exceeding cost
Of every pillous and of every post;
Which all of purest bullion framed were, 330
And with great perles and pretious stones embost,
That the bright glister of their beames cleare
Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appeare.
XXXIII
These stranger knights, through passing, forth were led
Into an inner rowme, whose royaltee 335
And rich purveyance might uneath be red;
Mote princes place beseeme so deckt to bee.
Which stately manner when as they did see,
The image of superfluous riotize,
Exceeding much the state of meane degree, 340
They greatly wondred whence so sumpteous guize
Might be maintaynd, and each gan diversely devize.
XXXIV
The wals were round about appareiled
With costly clothes of Arras and of Toure,
In which with cunning hand was pourtrahed 345
The love of Venus and her paramoure,
The fayre Adonis, turned to a flowre,
A worke of rare device and wondrous wit.
First did it shew the bitter balefull stowre,
Which her assayd with many a fervent fit, 350
When first her tender hart was with his beautie smit:
XXXV
Then with what sleights and sweet allurements she
Entyst the boy, as well that art she knew,
And wooed him her paramoure to bee;
Now making girlonds of each flowre that grew, 355
To crowne his golden lockes with honour dew;
Now leading him into a secret shade
From his beauperes, and from bright heavens vew,
Where him to sleepe she gently would perswade,
Or bathe him in a fountaine by some covert glade. 360
XXXVI
And whilst he slept, she over him would spred
Her mantle, colour’d like the starry skyes,
And her soft arme lay underneath his hed,
> And with ambrosiall kisses bathe his eyes;
And whilst he bath’d, with her two crafty spyes 365
She secretly would search each daintie lim,
And throw into the well sweet rosemaryes,
And fragrant violets, and paunces trim,
And ever with sweet nectar she did sprinkle him.
XXXVII
So did she steale his heedelesse hart away, 370
And joyd his love in secret unespyde.
But for she saw him bent to cruell play,
To hunt the salvage beast in forrest wyde,
Dreadfull of daunger, that mote him betyde,
She oft and oft adviz’d him to refraine 375
From chase of greater beastes, whose brutish pryde
Mote breede him scath unwares: but all in vaine;
For who can shun the chance that dest’ny doth ordaine?
XXXVIII
Lo! where beyond he lyeth languishing,
Deadly engored of a great wilde bore, 380
And by his side the goddesse groveling
Makes for him endlesse mone, and evermore
With her soft garment wipes away the gore,
Which staynes his snowy skin with hatefull hew:
But when she saw no helpe might him restore, 385
Him to a dainty flowre she did transmew,
Which in that cloth was wrought, as if it lively grew.
XXXIX
So was that chamber clad in goodly wize:
And rownd about it many beds were dight,
As whylome was the antique worldes guize, 390
Some for untimely ease, some for delight,
As pleased them to use, that use it might:
And all was full of damzels and of squyres,
Dauncing and reveling both day and night,
And swimming deepe in sensuall desyres; 395
And Cupid still emongest them kindled lustfull fyres.
XL
And all the while sweet musicke did divide
Her looser notes with Lydian harmony;
And all the while sweet birdes thereto applide
Their daintie layes and dulcet melody, 400
Ay caroling of love and jollity,
That wonder was to heare their trim consort.
Which when those knights beheld, with scornefull eye,
They sdeigned such lascivious disport,
And loath’d the loose demeanure of that wanton sort. 405
XLI
Thence they were brought to that great ladies vew,
Whom they found sitting on a sumptuous bed,
That glistred all with gold and glorious shew,
As the proud Persian queenes accustomed:
She seemed a woman of great bountihed 410
And of rare beautie, saving that askaunce
Her wanton eyes, ill signes of womanhed,
Did roll too lightly, and too often glaunce,
Without regard of grace or comely amenaunce.
XLII
Long worke it were, and needlesse, to devize 415
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