Chapter II: Book VII: Two Cantos of Mvtabilitie 454 (2)

These three that hardie chalenge tooke in hand, iii
For _Canacee_ with _Cambell_ for to fight:
The day was set, that all might vnderstand,
And pledges pawnd the same to keepe a right,
That day, the dreddest day that liuing wight
Did euer see vpon this world to shine,
So soone as heauens window shewed light,
These warlike Champions all in armour shine,
Assembled were in field, the chalenge to define.

The field with listes was all about enclos’d, iv
To barre the prease of people farre away;
And at th’one side sixe iudges were dispos’d,
To view and deeme the deedes of armes that day;
And on the other side in fresh aray,
Fayre _Canacee_ vpon a stately stage
Was set, to see the fortune of that fray,
And to be seene, as his most worthie wage,
That could her purchase with his liues aduentur’d gage.

Then entred _Cambell_ first into the list, v
With stately steps, and fearelesse countenance,
As if the conquest his he surely wist.
Soone after did the brethren three aduance,
In braue aray and goodly amenance,
With scutchins gilt and banners broad displayd:
And marching thrise in warlike ordinance,
Thrise lowted lowly to the noble Mayd,
The whiles shril trompets and loud clarions sweetly playd.

Which doen the doughty chalenger came forth, vi
All arm’d to point his chalenge to abet:
Gainst whom Sir _Priamond_ with equall worth,[47]
And equall armes himselfe did forward set.
A trompet blew; they both together met,
With dreadfull force, and furious intent,
Carelesse of perill in their fiers affret,
As if that life to losse they had forelent,
And cared not to spare, that should be shortly spent.

Right practicke was Sir _Priamond_ in fight, vii
And throughly skild in vse of shield and speare;
Ne lesse approued was _Cambelloes_ might,
Ne lesse his skill[48] in weapons did appeare,
That hard it was to weene which harder were.
Full many mightie strokes on either side
Were sent, that seemed death in them to beare,
But they were both so watchfull and well eyde,
That they auoyded were, and vainely by did slyde.

Yet one of many was so strongly bent viii
By _Priamond_, that with vnluckie glaunce
Through _Cambels_ shoulder it vnwarely went,
That forced him his shield to disaduaunce:[49]
Much was he grieued with that gracelesse chaunce,
Yet from the wound no drop of bloud there fell,
But wondrous paine, that did the more enhaunce
His haughtie courage to aduengement[50] fell:
Smart daunts not mighty harts, but makes them more to swell.

With that his poynant speare he fierce auentred, ix
With doubled force close vnderneath his shield,
That through the mayles into his thigh it entred,
And there arresting, readie way did yield,
For bloud to gush forth on the grassie field;
That he for paine himselfe n’ote[51] right vpreare,
But too and fro in great amazement reel’d,
Like an old Oke whose pith and sap is seare,
At puffe of[52] euery storme doth stagger here and theare.

Whom so dismayd when _Cambell_ had espide, x
Againe he droue at him with double might,
That nought mote stay the steele, till in his side
The mortall point most cruelly empight:
Where fast infixed, whilest he sought by slight
It forth to wrest, the staffe a sunder brake,
And left the head behind: with which despight
He all enrag’d, his shiuering speare did shake,
And charging him a fresh thus felly him bespake.

Lo faitour there thy meede vnto thee take, xi
The meede of thy mischalenge and abet:
Not for thine owne, but for thy sisters sake,
Haue I thus long thy life vnto thee let:
But to forbeare doth not forgiue the det.
The wicked weapon heard his wrathfull vow,
And passing forth with furious affret,
Pierst through his beuer quite into his brow,
That with the force it backward forced him to bow.

Therewith a sunder in the midst it brast, xii
And in his hand nought but the troncheon left,
The other halfe behind yet sticking fast,
Out of his headpeece _Cambell_ fiercely reft,
And with such furie backe at him it heft,
That making way vnto his dearest life,
His weasand pipe it through his gorget cleft:
Thence streames of purple bloud issuing rife,
Let forth his wearie ghost and made an end of strife.

His wearie ghost assoyld from fleshly band, xiii
Did not as others wont, directly fly
Vnto her rest in Plutoes griesly land,
Ne into ayre did vanish presently,
Ne chaunged was into a starre in sky:
But through traduction was eftsoones deriued,
Like as his mother prayd the Destinie,
Into his other brethren, that suruiued,
In whom he liu’d a new, of former life depriued.

Whom when on ground his brother next beheld, xiv
Though sad and sorie for so heauy sight,
Yet leaue vnto his sorrow did not yeeld,
But rather stird to vengeance and despight,
Through secret feeling of his generous spright,
Rusht fiercely forth, the battell to renew,
As in reuersion of his brothers right;
And chalenging the Virgin as his dew.
His foe was soone addrest: the trompets freshly blew.

With that they both together fiercely met, xv
As if that each ment other to deuoure;
And with their axes both so sorely bet,
That neither plate nor mayle, whereas their powre
They felt, could once sustaine the hideous stowre,
But riued were like rotten wood a sunder,
Whilest through their rifts the ruddie bloud did showre
And fire did flash, like lightning after thunder,
That fild the lookers on attonce with ruth and wonder.

As when two Tygers prickt with hungers rage, xvi
Haue by good fortune found some beasts fresh spoyle,
On which they weene their famine to asswage,
And gaine a feastfull guerdon of their toyle,
Both falling out doe stirre vp strifefull broyle,
And cruell battell twixt themselues doe make,
Whiles neither lets the other touch the soyle,
But either sdeignes with other to partake:
So cruelly these Knights stroue for that Ladies sake.

Full many strokes, that mortally were ment, xvii
The whiles were enterchaunged twixt them two;
Yet they were all with so good wariment
Or warded, or auoyded and let goe,
That still the life stood fearelesse of her foe:
Till _Diamond_ disdeigning long delay
Of doubtfull fortune wauering to and fro,
Resolu’d to end it one or other way;
And heau’d his murdrous axe at him with mighty sway.

The dreadfull stroke in case it had arriued, xviii
Where it was ment, (so deadly it was ment[53])
The soule had sure out of his bodie riued,
And stinted all the strife incontinent.
But _Cambels_ fate that fortune did preuent:
For seeing it at hand, he swaru’d asyde,
And so gaue way vnto his fell intent:
Who missing of the marke which he had eyde,
Was with the force nigh feld whilst his right foot did slyde.

As when a Vulture greedie of his pray, xix
Through hunger long, that hart to him doth lend,
Strikes at an Heron with all his bodies sway,
That from his force seemes nought may it defend;
The warie fowle that spies him toward bend[54]
His dreadfull souse, auoydes it[55] shunning light,
And maketh him his wing in vaine to spend;
That with the weight of his owne weeldlesse might,
He falleth nigh to ground, and scarse recouereth flight.

Which faire adventure when _Cambello_ spide, xx
Full lightly, ere himselfe he could recower[56],
From daungers dread to ward his naked side,
He can let driue at him with all his power,
And with his axe him smote in euill hower,
That from his shoulders quite his head he reft:
The headlesse tronke, as heedlesse of that stower,
Stood still a while, and his fast footing kept,
Till feeling life to fayle, it fell, and deadly slept.

They which that piteous spectacle beheld, xxi
Were much amaz’d the headlesse tronke to see
Stand vp so long, and weapon vaine to weld,
Vnweeting of the Fates diuine decree,
For lifes succession in those brethren three.
For notwithstanding that one soule was reft,
Yet, had the bodie not dismembred bee,
It would haue liued, and reuiued eft;
But finding no fit seat, the lifelesse corse it left.

It left; but that same soule, which therein dwelt, xxii
Streight entring into _Triamond_, him fild
With double life, and griefe, which when he felt,
As one whose inner parts had bene ythrild
With point of steele, that close his hartbloud spild,
He lightly lept out of his place of rest,
And rushing forth into the emptie field,
Against _Cambello_ fiercely him addrest;
Who him affronting soone to fight was readie prest.

Well mote ye wonder how that noble Knight, xxiii
After he had so often wounded beene,
Could stand on foot, now to renew the fight.
But had ye then him forth aduauncing seene,
Some newborne wight ye would him surely weene:
So fresh he seemed and so fierce in sight;
Like as a Snake, whom wearie winters teene[57]
Hath worne to nought, now feeling sommers might,
Casts off his ragged skin and freshly doth him dight.

All was through vertue of the ring he wore, xxiv
The which not onely did not from him let
One drop of bloud to fall, but did restore
His weakned powers, and dulled spirits whet,
Through working of the stone therein yset.
Else how could one of equall might with most,
Against so many no lesse mightie met,
Once thinke to match three such on equall cost,
Three such as able were to match a puissant host.

Yet nought thereof was _Triamond_ adredde, xxv
Ne desperate of glorious victorie,
But sharpely him assayld, and sore bestedde,
With heapes of strokes, which he at him let flie,
As thicke as hayle forth poured from the skie:
He stroke[58], he soust, he foynd, he hewd, he lasht,
And did his yron brond so fast applie,
That from the same the fierie sparkles flasht,
As fast as water-sprinkles gainst a rocke are dasht.

Much was _Cambello_ daunted with his blowes.[59] xxvi
So thicke they fell, and forcibly were sent,
That he was forst from daunger of the throwes
Backe to retire, and somewhat to relent,
Till th’heat of his fierce furie he had spent:
Which when for want of breath gan to abate,
He then afresh with new encouragement
Did him assayle, and mightily amate,
As fast as forward erst, now backward to retrate.

Like as the tide that comes fro th’Ocean mayne, xxvii
Flowes vp the Shenan with contrarie forse,
And ouerruling him in his owne rayne,
Driues backe the current of his kindly course,
And makes it seeme to haue some other sourse:
But when the floud is spent, then backe againe
His borrowed waters forst to redisbourse,
He sends the sea his owne with double gaine,
And tribute eke withall, as to his Soueraine.

Thus did the battell varie to and fro, xxviii
With diuerse fortune doubtfull to be deemed:
Now this the better had, now had his fo;
Then he halfe vanquisht, then the other seemed,
Yet victors both them selues alwayes esteemed.
And all the while the disentrayled blood
Adowne their sides like litle riuers stremed,
That with the wasting of his vitall flood,
Sir _Triamond_ at last full faint and feeble stood.

But _Cambell_ still more strong and greater grew, xxix
Ne felt his blood to wast[60], ne powres emperisht,
Through that rings vertue, that with vigour new,
Still when as he enfeebled was, him cherisht,
And all his wounds, and all his bruses guarisht,
Like as a withered tree through husbands toyle
Is often seene full freshly to haue florisht,
And fruitfull apples to haue borne awhile,
As fresh as when it first was planted in the soyle.

Through which aduantage, in his strength he rose, xxx
And smote the other with so wondrous might,
That through the seame, which did his hauberk close,
Into his throate and life it pierced quight,
That downe he fell as dead in all mens sight:
Yet dead he was not, yet he sure did die,
As all men do, that lose the liuing spright:
So did one soule out of his bodie flie
Vnto her natiue home from mortall miserie.

But nathelesse whilst all the lookers on xxxi
Him dead behight, as he to all appeard,
All vnawares he started vp anon,
As one that had out of a dreame bene reard,
And fresh assayld his foe, who halfe affeard
Of th’vncouth sight, as he some ghost had seene,
Stood still amaz’d, holding his idle sweard;
Till hauing often by him stricken beene,
He forced was to strike, and saue him selfe from teene.

Yet from thenceforth more warily he fought, xxxii
As one in feare the Stygian gods t’offend,
Ne followd on so fast, but rather sought
Him selfe to saue, and daunger to defend,
Then life and labour both in vaine to spend.
Which _Triamond_ perceiuing, weened sure
He gan to faint, toward the battels end,
And that he should not long on foote endure,
A signe which did to him the victorie assure.

Whereof full blith, eftsoones his mightie hand xxxiii
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
Him selfe to saue from that so deadly throw;
And at that instant reaching forth his sweard[61]
Close vnderneath his shield, that scarce did show,
Stroke him, as he his hand to strike vpreard,
In th’arm-pit full, that through both sides the wound appeard.

Yet still that direfull stroke kept on his way, xxxiv
And falling heauie 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
Vpon the brim of his brode plated shield,
It would haue cleft his braine downe to his brest.
So both at once fell dead vpon the field,
And each to other seemd the victorie to yield.

Which when as all the lookers on beheld, xxxv
They weened sure the warre was at an end,
And Iudges rose, and Marshals of the field
Broke vp the listes, their armes away to rend;
And _Canacee_ gan wayle her dearest frend.
All suddenly they both vpstarted 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, xxxvi
As if but then the battell had begonne:
Strokes, wounds, wards, weapons, all they did despise,
Ne either car’d to ward, or perill shonne,
Desirous both to haue the battell donne;
Ne either cared life to saue or spill,
Ne which of them did winne, ne which were wonne.
So wearie both of fighting had their fill,
That life it selfe seemd loathsome, and long safetie ill.

Whilst thus the case in doubtfull ballance hong, xxxvii
Vnsure 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,
Confusd with womens cries, and shouts of boyes,
Such as the troubled Theaters oftimes annoyes.

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

And drawne it was (that wonder is to tell) xxxix
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 Ladie passing faire
And bright, that seemed borne of Angels brood,
And with her beautie bountie did compare,
Whether of them in her should haue the greater share.

Thereto she learned was in Magicke leare, xl
And all the artes, that subtill wits discouer,
Hauing therein bene trained many a yeare,
And well instructed by the Fay her mother,
That in the same she farre exceld all other.
Who vnderstanding by her mightie art,
Of th’euill plight, in which her dearest brother
Now stood, came forth in hast[62] to take his part,
And pacifie the strife, which causd so deadly smart.

And as she passed through th’vnruly preace xli
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 ouer-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, xlii
About the which two Serpents weren wound,
Entrayled mutually in louely lore,
And by the tailes together firmely bound,
And both were with one oliue 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 vpfild.

Nepenthe is a drinck of souerayne grace, xliii
Deuized by the Gods, for to asswage
Harts grief, and bitter gall away to chace,
Which stirs vp anguish and contentious rage:
In stead thereof sweet peace and quiet age[63]
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, xliv
As _Ioue_ will haue aduaunced 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 heauen flie,
To drincke hereof, whereby all cares forepast
Are washt away quite from their memorie.
So did those olde Heroes hereof taste,
Before that they in blisse amongst the Gods were plaste.

Much more of price and of more gratious powre xlv
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 loue to hate, a change of euill choise:
But this doth hatred make in loue to brenne,
And heauy heart with comfort doth reioyce.
Who would not to this vertue rather yeeld his voice?

At last arriuing by the listes side, xlvi
Shee with her rod did softly smite the raile,
Which straight flew ope, and gaue her way to ride.
Eftsoones out of her Coch she gan auaile,
And pacing fairely forth, did bid all haile,
First to her brother, whom she loued 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 loue t’appeare.

They lightly her requit (for small delight xlvii
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
Her selfe she threw, and teares gan shed amaine;
Amongst her teares immixing prayers meeke,
And with her prayers reasons to restraine[64]
From blouddy strife, and blessed peace to seeke,
By all that vnto them was deare, did them beseeke.

But when as all might nought with them preuaile, xlviii
Shee 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, xlix
Wonder it is that sudden change to see:
Instead of strokes, each other kissed glad,
And louely haulst from feare of treason free,
And plighted hands for euer 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 maruaile brings,
They all gan shout aloud, that all the heauen rings.

All which, when gentle _Canacee_ beheld, l
In hast she from her lofty chaire descended,
To[65] weet what sudden tidings was befeld:
Where when she saw that cruell war so ended,
And deadly foes so faithfully affrended,
In louely 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, li
The trumpets sounded, and they all arose,
Thence to depart with glee and gladsome chere.
Those warlike champions both together chose,
Homeward to march, themselues there to repose,
And wise _Cambina_ taking by her side
Faire _Canacee_, as fresh as morning rose,
Vnto her Coch remounting, home did ride,
Admir’d of all the people, and much glorifide.

Where making ioyous feast[66] theire daies they spent lii
In perfect loue, deuoide 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 loue, and loued were,
That since their days such louers were not found elswhere[67].

FOOTNOTES:

[46] Arg. 2 _Canacee_ _1596_

[47] vi 3 worth: _1596_

[48] vii 4 skill] sill _1596_

[49] viii 4 disaduaunce, _1596_

[50] 8 avengement _1609_

[51] ix 6 n’ote] not _1596_

[52] 9 of] at _1609_

[53] xviii 2 so deadly was it ment _1609_

[54] xix 5 bend, _1609_

[55] 6 souse auoydes, it _1609_

[56] xx 2 recover _1609_

[57] xxiii 7 teene, _1596_

[58] xxv 6 strooke _1609 passim_

[59] xxvi 1 blowes, _1596_

[60] xxix 2 waste _1609_

[61] xxxiii 6 sword _1609_

[62] xl 8 haste _1609 passim_

[63] xliii 5 quiet-age _Morris_

[64] xlvii 7 restraine, _1596_

[65] l 3 To] Too _1596_

_Cant. IIII._

_Satyrane makes a Turneyment
For loue of Florimell:
Britomart winnes the prize from all,
And Artegall doth quell._
]

It often fals, (as here it earst befell) i
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,[68]
And th’end of both likewise of both their ends.
For enmitie, that of no ill proceeds,
But of occasion, with th’occasion ends;
And friendship, which a faint affection breeds
Without regard of good, dyes like ill grounded seeds.

That well (me seemes) appeares, by that of late ii
Twixt _Cambell_ and Sir _Triamond_ befell,
As als[69] by this, that now a new debate
Stird vp twixt _Scudamour_[70] and _Paridell_,
The which by course befals me here to tell:
Who hauing those two other Knights espide
Marching afore, as ye remember well,
Sent forth their Squire to haue them both descride,
And eke those masked Ladies riding them beside.

Who backe returning, told as he had seene, iii
That they were doughtie knights of dreaded name;
And those two Ladies, their two loues vnseene;
And therefore wisht them without blot or blame,
To let them passe at will, for dread of shame.
But _Blandamour_ full of vainglorious spright,
And rather stird by his discordfull Dame,
Vpon them gladly would haue prov’d his might,
But that he yet was sore of his late lucklesse fight.

Yet nigh approching, he them fowle bespake, iv
Disgracing them, him selfe thereby to grace,
As was his wont, so weening way to make
To Ladies loue, where so he came in place,
And with lewd termes their louers to deface.
Whose sharpe prouokement them incenst so sore,
That both were bent t’auenge his vsage base,
And gan their shields addresse them selues afore:
For euill deedes may better then bad words be bore.

But faire _Cambina_ with perswasions myld, v
Did mitigate the fiercenesse of their mode,
That for the present they were reconcyld,
And gan to treate of deeds of armes abrode,
And strange aduentures, 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_,
The prize of her, which did in beautie most excell.

To which folke-mote they all with one consent, vi
Sith each of them his Ladie had him by,
Whose beautie each of them thought excellent,
Agreed to trauell, 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 haue represt.

Which th’other seeing, gan his course relent, vii
And vaunted speare eftsoones to disaduaunce,
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 rouing eie did on the Lady glaunce,
Which _Blandamour_ had riding by his side:
Whom sure he weend, that he some wher tofore had eide.

It was to weete that snowy _Florimell_, viii
Which _Ferrau_[71] late from _Braggadochio_ wonne,
Whom he now seeing, her remembred well,
How hauing reft her from the witches sonne,
He soone her lost: wherefore he now begunne
To challenge her anew, as his owne prize,
Whom formerly he had in battell wonne,
And proffer made by force her to reprize,
Which scornefull offer, _Blandamour_ gan soone despize.

And said, Sir Knight, sith ye this Lady clame, ix
Whom he that hath, were loth to lose so light,
(For so to lose a Lady, were great shame)
Yee shall her winne, as I haue done in fight:
And lo shee shall be placed here in sight,[72]
Together with this Hag beside her set,
That who so winnes her, may her haue by right:
But he shall haue the Hag that is ybet,
And with her alwaies ride, till he another get.

That offer pleased all the company, x
So _Florimell_ with _Ate_ forth was brought,
At which they all gan laugh full merrily:
But _Braggadochio_ said, he neuer thought
For such an Hag, that seemed worse[73] 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, xi
As scorning his vnmanly cowardize:
And _Florimell_ him fowly gan reuile,
That for her sake refus’d to enterprize
The battell, offred in so knightly wize.
And _Ate_ eke prouokt him priuily,
With loue 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 vp all in iest, xii
Braue Knights and Ladies, certes ye doe wrong
To stirre vp strife, when most vs needeth rest,
That we may vs reserue both fresh and strong,
Against the Turneiment which is not long.
When who so 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 haue the Hag, or hold the Lady still.

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

There this faire crewe arriuing, did diuide xiv
Them selues asunder: _Blandamour_ with those
Of his, on th’one; the rest on th’other side.
But boastfull _Braggadocchio_ rather chose,
For glorie vaine their fellowship to lose,
That men on him the more might gaze alone.
The rest them selues in troupes did else dispose,
Like as it seemed best to euery one;
The knights in couples marcht, with ladies linckt attone.

Then first of all forth came Sir _Satyrane_, xv
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.
A gorgeous girdle, curiously embost
With pearle and precious stone, worth many a marke;
Yet did the workmanship farre passe the cost:
It was the same, which lately _Florimel_ had lost.

That same aloft he hong in open vew, xvi
To be the prize of beautie and of might;
The which eftsoones discouered, 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 xvii
An huge great speare, such as he wont to wield,
And vauncing forth from all the other band
Of knights, addrest his maiden-headed[74] shield,
Shewing him selfe all ready for the field.
Gainst whom there singled from the other side
A Painim knight, that well in armes was skild,
And had in many a battell oft bene tride,
Hight _Bruncheual_ the bold, who fiersly forth did ride.

So furiously they both together met, xviii
That neither could the others force sustaine;
As two fierce Buls, that striue 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, xix
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[75] heape were tumbled horse and man.
Vnto whose rescue forth rode _Paridell_;
But him likewise with that same speare he eke did quell.

Which _Braggadocchio_ seeing, had no will xx
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 themselues againe vpreare.

Which to auenge, Sir _Deuon_ him did dight, xxi
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 _Paliumord_[76] 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 vppon the land,
Or went away sore wounded of his haplesse hand.

And now by this, Sir _Satyrane_ abraid, xxii
Out of the swowne, in which too long he lay;
And looking round about, like one dismaid,
When as he saw the mercilesse affray,
Which doughty _Triamond_ had wrought that day,
Vnto the noble Knights of Maidenhead,
His mighty heart did almost rend in tway,
For very gall, that rather wholly dead
Himselfe he wisht haue beene, then in so bad a stead.

Eftsoones he gan to gather vp around xxiii
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 anduile glode,[77]
There where he saw the valiant _Triamond_
Chasing, and laying on them heauy 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[78] speare he aimed, xxiv
And thereto all his power and might applide:
The wicked steele for mischiefe first ordained,
And hauing now misfortune got for guide,[79]
Staid not, till it arriued in his side,
And therein made a very griesly wound,
That streames of bloud his armour all bedide.
Much was he daunted with that direfull stound,
That scarse he him vpheld from falling in a sound.

Yet as he might, himselfe he soft withdrew xxv
Out of the field, that none perceiu’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 euening on them fell,
That forced them from fighting to refraine,
And trumpets sound to cease did them compell,
So _Satyrane_ that day was iudg’d to beare the bell.

The morrow next the Turney gan anew, xxvi
And with the first the hardy _Satyrane_
Appear’d in place, with all his noble crew,
On th’other side, full many a warlike swaine,
Assembled were, that glorious prize to gaine.
But mongst them all, was not Sir _Triamond_,
Vnable he new battell to darraine,
Through grieuaunce of his late receiued wound,
That doubly did him grieue, when so himselfe he found.

Which _Cambell_ seeing, though he could not salue, xxvii
Ne done vndoe, yet for to salue his name,
And purchase honour in his friends behalue,[80]
This goodly counterfesaunce he did frame.
The shield and armes well knowne to be the same,
Which _Triamond_ had worne, vnwares to wight,
And to his friend vnwist, for doubt of blame,
If he misdid,[81] he on himselfe did dight,
That none could him discerne, and so went forth to fight.

There _Satyrane_ Lord of the field he found, xxviii
Triumphing in great ioy and iolity;
Gainst whom none able was to stand on ground;
That much he gan his glorie to enuy,
And cast t’auenge his friends indignity.
A mightie speare eftsoones at him he bent;
Who seeing him come on so furiously,
Met him mid-way with equall hardiment,
That forcibly to ground they both together went.

They vp againe them selues can lightly reare, xxix
And to their tryed swords them selues betake;
With which they wrought such wondrous maruels there,
That all the rest it did amazed make,
Ne any dar’d their perill to partake;
Now cuffling close, now chacing to and fro,
Now hurtling round aduantage for to take:
As two wild Boares together grapling go,
Chaufing and foming choler each against his fo.

So as they courst, and turneyd here and theare, xxx
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 him selfe he had recouered well,
So sore he sowst him on the compast creast,
That forced him to leaue his loftie sell,
And rudely tumbling downe vnder his horse feete fell.

Lightly _Cambello_ leapt downe from his steed, xxxi
For to haue rent his shield and armes away,
That whylome wont to be the victors meed;
When all vnwares 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, xxxii
But with stout courage turnd vpon them all,
And with his brondiron 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?
They haue him taken captiue, though it grieue him sore.

Whereof when newes to _Triamond_ was brought, xxxiii
There as he lay, his wound he soone forgot,
And starting vp, 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 xxxiv
He thrust, and smote downe all that was betweene,
Caried with feruent 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 hauocke makes,
That they which lead him, soone enforced beene
To let him loose, to saue their proper stakes,
Who being freed, from one a weapon fiercely takes.

With that he driues at them with dreadfull might, xxxv
Both in remembrance of his friends late harme,
And in reuengement of his owne despight,
So both together giue a new allarme,
As if but now the battell wexed[82] warme.
As when two greedy Wolues doe breake by force
Into an heard, farre from the husband farme,
They spoile and rauine without all remorse,
So did these two through all the field their foes enforce.

Fiercely they followd on their bolde emprize, xxxvi
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 t’aduance 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 xxxvii
Assembled were their deedes of armes to shew.
Full many deedes that day were shewed plaine:
But _Satyrane_ boue all the other crew,
His wondrous worth declared in all mens view.
For from the first he to the last endured,
And though some while Fortune from him withdrew,
Yet euermore his honour he recured,
And with vnwearied powre his party still assured.

Ne was there Knight that euer thought of armes, xxxviii
But that his vtmost prowesse there made knowen,
That by their many wounds, and carelesse harmes,
By shiuered speares, and swords all vnder strowen,
By scattered shields was easie to be showen.
There might ye see loose steeds at randon ronne,
Whose luckelesse riders late were ouerthrowen;
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, xxxix
A straunger knight, from whence no man could reed,
In quyent disguise, full hard to be descride.
For all his armour was like saluage weed,
With woody mosse bedight, and all his steed
With oaken leaues attrapt, that seemed fit
For saluage wight, and thereto well agreed
His word, which on his ragged shield was writ,
_Saluagesse sans finesse_, shewing secret wit.

He at his first incomming, charg’d his spere xl
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,
Approued oft in many a perlous fight.
Him at the first encounter downe he smote,
And ouerbore beyond his crouper quight,
And after him another Knight, that hote
Sir _Brianor_, so sore, that none him life behote.

Then ere his hand he reard, he ouerthrew xli
Seuen 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 helmets bright,
And beating downe, what euer nigh him came,
That euery one gan shun his dreadfull sight,
No lesse then death it selfe, in daungerous affright.

Much wondred all men, what, or whence he came, xlii
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 saluage knight.
But certes his right name was otherwize,
Though knowne to few, that _Arthegall_ he hight,
The doughtiest knight that liv’d that day, and most of might.

Thus was Sir _Satyrane_ with all his band xliii
By his sole manhood and atchieuement stout
Dismayd, that none of them in field durst stand,
But beaten were, and chased all about.
So he continued all that day throughout,
Till euening, 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 xliv
At _Artegall_, in middest of his pryde,
And therewith smote him on his Vmbriere
So sore, that tombling backe, he downe did slyde
Ouer his horses taile aboue a stryde;
Whence litle lust he had to rise againe.
Which _Cambell_ seeing, much the same enuyde,
And ran at him with all his might and maine;
But shortly was likewise seene lying on the plaine.

Whereat full inly wroth was _Triamond_ xlv
And cast t’auenge[83] 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 _Blandamour_ 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: xlvi
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 atchieued,
And ouerthrew, what euer came her neare,
That all those stranger knights full sore agrieued,
And that late weaker band of chalengers relieued.

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

So did the warlike _Britomart_ restore xlviii
The prize, to knights of Maydenhead that day,
Which else was like to haue bene lost, and bore
The prayse of prowesse from them all away.
Then shrilling trompets loudly gan to bray,
And bad them leaue their labours and long toyle,
To ioyous feast and other gentle play,
Where beauties prize shold win that pretious spoyle:
Where I with sound of trompe will also rest a whyle.

FOOTNOTES:

[66] lii 1 feasts _1609_

[67] 9 elswere _1596_

[68] i 4 depends. _1596_

[69] ii 3 als] els _1596_

[70] 4 _Scudamour_] _Blandamour_ _1679 rightly_.

[71] viii 2 _Ferrat_ _1596_

[72] ix 5 sight. _1596_

[73] x 5 worst _1596_

[74] xvii 4 satyr-headed _conj. Church_

[75] xix 7 an] a _1609_

[76] xxi 5 _Palimord_ _1609_

[77] xxiii 5 glode. _1596_

[78] xxiv 1 beamlike] brauelike _1596_

[79] 4 guide. _1596_

[80] xxvii 3 behalue. _1596_

[81] 8 misdid; _1596 &c._

[82] xxxv 5 waxed _1609_

[83] xlv 2 t’euenge _1596_

_Cant. V._

_The Ladies for the girdle striue
of famous Florimell:
Scudamour comming to Cares house,
doth sleepe from him expell._
]

It hath bene through all ages euer seene, i
That with the praise of armes and cheualrie,
The prize of beautie still hath ioyned beene;
And that for reasons speciall priuitie:
For either doth on other much relie.
For he me seemes most fit the faire to serue,
That can her best defend from villenie;
And she most fit his seruice doth deserue,
That fairest is and from her faith will neuer swerue.

So fitly now here commeth next in place, ii
After the proofe of prowesse ended well,
The controuerse of beauties soueraine grace;
In which to her that doth the most excell,
Shall fall the girdle of faire _Florimell_:
That many wish to win for glorie vaine,
And not for vertuous vse, which some doe tell
That glorious belt did in it selfe containe,
Which Ladies ought to loue, and seeke for to obtaine.

That girdle gaue the vertue of chast loue, iii
And wiuehood true, to all that did it beare;
But whosoeuer contrarie doth proue,
Might not the same about her middle weare,
But it would loose, or else a sunder teare.
Whilome it was (as Faeries wont report)
Dame _Venus_ girdle, by her steemed deare,
What time she vsd to liue in wiuely sort;
But layd aside, when so she vsd her looser sport.

Her husband _Vulcan_ whylome for her sake, iv
When first he loued her with heart entire,
This pretious ornament they say did make,
And wrought in _Lemno_ with vnquenched fire:
And afterwards did for her loues first hire,
Giue it to her, for euer to remaine,
Therewith to bind lasciuious desire,
And loose affections streightly to restraine;
Which vertue it for euer after did retaine.

The same one day, when she her selfe disposd v
To visite her beloued Paramoure,
The God of warre, she from her middle loosd,
And left behind her in her secret bowre,
On _Acidalian_[84] mount, where many an howre
She with the pleasant _Graces_ wont to play.
There _Florimell_ in her first ages flowre
Was fostered by those _Graces_, (as they say)
And brought with her from thence that goodly belt away.

That goodly belt was _Cestus_[85] hight by name, vi
And as her life by her esteemed deare.
No wonder then, if that to winne the same
So many Ladies sought, as shall appeare;
For pearelesse she was thought, that did it beare.
And now by this their feast all being ended,
The iudges which thereto selected were,
Into the Martian field adowne descended,
To deeme this doutfull case, for which they all contended.

But first was question made, which of those Knights vii
That lately turneyd, had the wager wonne:
There was it iudged by those worthie wights,
That _Satyrane_ the first day best had donne:
For he last ended, hauing first begonne.
The second was to _Triamond_ behight,
For that he sau’d the victour from fordonne:
For _Cambell_ victour was in all mens sight,
Till by mishap he in his foemens hand did light.

The third dayes prize vnto that[86] straunger Knight, viii
Whom all men term’d Knight of the Hebene speare,
To _Britomart_ was giuen by good right;
For that with puissant stroke she downe did beare
The _Saluage_ Knight, that victour was whileare,
And all the rest, which had the best afore,
And to the last vnconquer’d did appeare;
For last is deemed best. To her therefore
The fayrest Ladie was adiudgd for Paramore.

But thereat greatly grudged _Arthegall_, ix
And much repynd, that both of victors meede,
And eke of honour she did him forestall.
Yet mote he not withstand, what was decreede;
But inly thought of that despightfull deede
Fit time t’awaite auenged for to bee.
This being ended thus, and all agreed,
Then[87] next ensew’d the Paragon to see
Of beauties praise, and yeeld the fayrest her due fee.

Then first _Cambello_ brought vnto their view x
His faire _Cambina_, couered with a veale;
Which being once withdrawne, most perfect hew
And passing beautie did eftsoones reueale,
That able was weake harts away to steale.
Next did Sir _Triamond_ vnto their sight
The face of his deare _Canacee_ vnheale;
Whose beauties beame eftsoones did shine so bright,
That daz’d the eyes of all, as with exceeding light.

And after her did _Paridell_ produce xi
His false _Duessa_, that she might be seene,
Who with her forged beautie did seduce
The hearts of some, that fairest her did weene;
As diuerse wits affected diuers beene.
Then did Sir _Ferramont_ vnto them shew
His _Lucida_ that was full faire and sheene,
And after these an hundred Ladies moe
Appear’d in place, the which each other did outgoe.

All which who so dare thinke for to enchace, xii
Him needeth sure a golden pen I weene,
To tell the feature of each goodly face.
For since the day that they created beene,
So many heauenly faces were not seene
Assembled in one place: ne he that thought
For _Chian_ folke to pourtraict beauties Queene,
By view of all the fairest to him brought,
So many faire did see, as here he might haue sought.

At last the most redoubted _Britonesse_, xiii
Her louely _Amoret_ did open shew;
Whose face discouered, plainely did expresse
The heauenly pourtraict of bright Angels hew.
Well weened all, which her that time did vew,
That she should surely beare the bell away,
Till _Blandamour_, who thought he had the trew
And very _Florimell_, did her display:
The sight of whom once seene did all the rest dismay.

For all afore that seemed fayre and bright, xiv
Now base and contemptible did appeare,
Compar’d to her, that shone as Phebes light,
Amongst the lesser starres in euening cleare.
All that her saw with wonder rauisht weare,
And weend no mortall creature she should bee,
But some celestiall shape, that flesh did beare:
Yet all were glad there _Florimell_ to see;
Yet thought that _Florimell_ was not so faire as shee.

As guilefull Goldsmith that by secret skill, xv
With golden foyle doth finely ouer spred
Some baser metall, which commend he will
Vnto the vulgar for good gold insted,
He much more goodly glosse thereon doth shed,
To hide his falshood, then if it were trew:
So hard, this Idole was to be ared,
That _Florimell_ her selfe in all mens vew
She seem’d to passe: so forged things do fairest shew.

Then was that[88] golden belt by doome of all xvi
Graunted to her, as to the fayrest Dame.
Which being brought, about her middle small
They thought to gird, as best it her became;
But by no meanes they could it thereto frame.
For euer as they fastned it, it loos’d
And fell away, as feeling secret blame.
Full oft about her wast she it enclos’d;
And it as oft was from about her wast disclos’d.

That all men wondred at the vncouth sight, xvii
And each one thought, as to their fancies came.
But she her selfe did thinke it doen for spight,
And touched was with secret wrath and shame
Therewith, as thing deuiz’d her to defame.
Then many other Ladies likewise tride,
About their tender loynes to knit the same;
But it would not on none of them abide,
But when they thought it fast, eftsoones it was vntide.

Which when that scornefull _Squire of Dames_ did vew, xviii
He lowdly gan to laugh, and thus to iest;
Alas for pittie that so faire a crew,
As like can not be seene from East to West,
Cannot find one this girdle to inuest.
Fie on the man, that did it first inuent,
To shame vs all with this, _Vngirt vnblest_.
Let neuer Ladie to his loue assent,
That hath this day so many so vnmanly shent.

Thereat all Knights gan laugh, and Ladies lowre: xix
Till that at last the gentle _Amoret_
Likewise assayd, to proue that girdles powre;
And hauing it about her middle set,
Did find it fit, withouten breach or let.
Whereat the rest gan greatly to enuie:
But _Florimell_ exceedingly did fret,
And snatching from her hand halfe angrily
The belt againe, about her bodie gan it tie.

Yet nathemore would it her bodie fit; xx
Yet nathelesse to her, as her dew right,
It yeelded was by them, that iudged it:
And she her selfe adiudged to the Knight,
That bore the Hebene speare, as wonne in fight.
But _Britomart_ would not thereto assent,
Ne her owne _Amoret_ forgoe so light
For that strange Dame, whose beauties wonderment
She lesse esteem’d, then th’others vertuous gouernment.

Whom when the rest did see her to refuse, xxi
They were full glad, in hope themselues to get her:
Yet at her choice they all did greatly muse.
But after that the Iudges did arret her
Vnto the second best, that lou’d her better;
That was the _Saluage_ Knight: but he was gone
In great displeasure, that he could not get her.
Then was she iudged _Triamond_ his one;
But _Triamond_ lou’d _Canacee_, and other none.

Tho vnto _Satyran_ she was adiudged, xxii
Who was right glad to gaine so goodly meed:
But _Blandamour_ thereat full greatly grudged,
And litle prays’d his labours euill speed,
That for to winne the saddle, lost the steed.
Ne lesse thereat did _Paridell_ complaine,
And thought t’appeale from that, which was decreed,
To single combat with Sir _Satyrane_.
Thereto him _Ate_ stird, new discord to maintaine.