¶THE CRVELL BAT­taile which past betweene the Knight of the Sunne and the fierce Gyant Bramaraunt, in which bicke­ring the Gyant perceiuing he must needs haue the worst, murthered himselfe. CAP. I.

WHEN THE GLITTERING armour of Aeneas of Troie was at the re­quest of his Mother Venus forged in Vul­can his shoppe, the well s [...]eeled hamme [...]s did not temper and beate it with grea [...]er [...], [...]hen the heroicall sonne of Trebatio ( [...] the stou [...] Pagan Bramarant through the middest of the Grecian woods,) did with his [...] blowes vpon his armour, mangling by little and [...] his strong and lustie bodie, so much the more their choler in­creased, as the combat did indure betwéene them. There were present at this bickering the renoumed▪ Emperour Trebatio, Alicandro the king of Hungarie and his Grand­father, with manie other puissaunt Princes and greate Lordes, who with no small admiration did beholde [...]he ex­ceeding fiercenesse with which they let driue their blowes, the one at the other, which did resound an Eckoe in the aire, and yéelded a terrible noise in the woodes. This bat­taile [Page] did continue betwéene thē y^e space of two long houres, and albeit it was fierce and sharpe, the valour of the incen­sed knight of the Sunne preuailed not to abate or exstin­guish the rage of the Pagan, & much lesse could the force of the Tartarian quaile in anie sort the courage of the prince­ly Grecian. The skirmish being hot, and the redoubted son of Trebatio perceiuing that it indured very long without certaintie who had the better: héerevpon béeing greatly in­flamed with furie, lifted vp his peisant club aboue his head, & did discharge it vpon the pagan his left shoulder, in such sort, (that notwithstanding his strength) he was forced to shrinke backward, and so fell flat vpon his right side, being greatly dismaied at y^e blowe, & much more at the fall: he be­gan to recouer himselfe at length by the friendly help of an ash trée which was close by him, for otherwise his vnwil­die bodie had taken more pause vpon the ground. Scantly had be taken good footing when he perceiued the knight of the Sun sort him another sequence aunswerable to y^e first. The Gyant being vnprouided of anie trumpe to cast in his waie, whervpon he was driuen to close with the Grecian, and hauing ceazed his bodie with his sharpe talents, he be­gan to gripe him verie hard: The heroicall Prince séeing himselfe thus imbraced contrarie to the custome of all cur­tesie, began to shift, for to auoide this course entertainment so well as he might, but wanting more time then courage he was thereby tript to the grounde. And finding himselfe laden with his enimie he was therby compelled to forsake his club, and by all meanes to séeke to shake off that vn­friendly burthen. Therefore catching Bramarant by the middle with no lesse agilitie then furie, hée did violentlye pull him vnderneath: whereby he requited him in part, for the discourtesie of the former fall. There did they both shew their inestimable forces, and passing nimblenesse of bodie, in this cruell and daungerous encountering. And thus they long time tumbled and tossed each other on the grasse, some times not moouing for want of breath, [Page 2] otherwhiles wallowing together to get the masterie, yéel­ding forth most terrible groninges, by reason of the great paines and wearinesse that they susteyned in this harde conflict, at length they set each other at libertie, & then start vpon their féete, and beganne to fight as fiercely as before. The Knight of the Sunne drawing out his Swoord, sup­posed that no resistaunce of the enimie, how strong so euer it were, coulde suspend the execution of his purpose, the Moore likewise tooke holde of his heauie trenchaunt blade, cursing and banning his Gods, that they hadde endued this Knight with so great force and prowesse. Bée­ing in this brainsicke moode, he wold not attempt to make experience of his enimies force againe, but flourishing his sword amongst the troupe, caused thē to sunder themselues and so in flying, made a broad lane betwéene them, and ranne to shrowde himselfe into the thickest of the Woode, that he could, leauing the people in a great admiration: The noble knight of the Sunne when he beheld that his cham­pion betooke him to his héeles in so great hast, whether hée did it for feare (which was vnlikely being a stout champiō) or for diuelish madnes, (which might séeme true) béeing no christian, called for his horse, & could not be perswaded frō pursuing y^e Pagan, by the Emperour his father, making a semblaunce of great anger by his countenaunce, his horse being brought by one of his esquires, he mounted into the Saddle verie lightly, without helpe of his stiroppes, and broching his courser with the Spurres, hée made him runne so swifte, that he séemed another Perseus vppon his Pegasus, to them that behelde him. He ceased not to course vp and downe the Forrest, with set purpose to single out his Enimie, and not to rest vntill hée hadde subdu­ed him, or els to be conquered by the vertue of his ad­uersaries force.

Noble Rosicleer perceiuing his brother to be inclyned for to take reuenge of the Pagan, and thereby mistrust­ing least that some frowarde mischaunce might attende [Page] vpon him (which fickle fortune doth vsually affoord), héere­vppon did call for his horse and armour out of hande, which being brought with as much spéed as might bée, in so short a time he being furnished with his owne weapons & armour, he leapt vp nimbly into y^e saddle, & posted through the forrest in as great hast as he might, following his bro­ther in the same path whether he went, wher we wil leaue him, to make rehearsall of that which did befall in the Em­perours court, in the meane time: when as y^e beholders had somewhat staide themselues in remembring this notable battaile, & had as it were forgotten the sharp brunts y^e two champions susteined, the Emperour with y^e rest were som­what recomforted to sée how louingly Rosicleer did follow to aide and succor his brother, and discoursing by the way of the battaile, and of the incredible strength and courage of the Pagan, they withdrew themselues into their tents: being not long there, newes was spred abroad in the court of the losse of Clarim [...]nt, which report when the Empres hard, it laid such an impression of griefe in her Emperiall heart, that albeit she was an Empresse and had ruledome of many nations, yet had she not so much power ouer her selfe, but presently therevpon shée fell into an extreame Extasie betwéene the Empresse Claridianas armes. The Quéenes and Ladies beholding so tragicall & sodain mischaunce, they clustered altogether, & with certain drugs which they had about them in a readinesse, they somwhat reuiued hir againe, she being before greatly distraughted out of hir wits and senses. And with sorrowing sighes re­plenished with much martirdome, descending from the bot­tome of her heart, bathing also her beautifull visage with two streames of salt teares gushing from her eyes, with a lamentable voice shée deliuered certaine spéeches, which did mooue the assistaunts vnto verye great compassion: To whom the emperour came (although he was God wot, in such plight himselfe, that his case rather required more comfort) then to visite the comfortlesse: yet notwithstand­ding [Page 3] he with a graue countenance, verie louingly did che­rish & perswade her: which spéeches of his sauoured som­what of an angrie shewe of reprehension, in the ende hée wrought so much with her, as she was fullie recouered and contented. The Emperour not to séeme daunted with any thing, but to make a more apparaunt shew of his valour, he commaunded his huntsmen to continue the sport, and in outward semblance séemed to be so merrie as euer he was, wheras in truth he was secretly wringed, for the excéeding great passion which he sawe the lady Claridiana indure, for the sodeine absence of him who was newly married vnto her, & had begotten her with childe. After thrée daies were passed, they were desirous to returne to the Citie againe, and taking vp their tents, they layde all thinges in order, and in readinesse to procéede on theyr iourney. But as they began to martch on theyr waie, they might perceiue comming a long by the Forrest side a Coach, all couered ouer with blacke Searge, which foure horses did drawe, trapped with such like blacke furniture. Before it eight knightes came riding, with Targettes and armour, all out of order, and broken, which did very well expresse, that they escaped from some daungerous & hot skirmish. Be­hinde the Coche did attend as many more knights, hauing their armour sutable to the first, all did beare blacke deuices, the barbature of theyr Horses, aunswerable to the same. The Emperour and Knightes which behelde this same shew, béeing all blacke in mourning wise, did raine their horses to knowe what came in the same Coach.

Héere must I digresse and recite vnto you the cruell order and miserable end of the vnfortunate Pagan, & will returne at length to relate vnto you, what did betide the Emperour and his companie, after this sight of the Coche. The diuelish More Bramaraunt ran through the Grecian forrests (a hellish furie being his guide) yelling & braieng against his Gods, and as a starued Tyger he trauased the [Page] woods, cutting downe oakes, & r [...]oting frō y^e ground pine ap­ple trees, as if they had ben slēder reeds. And being plunged in this pansiue moode, he entred into y^e highest degree of his melancholike passiōs, debating w^t himself, why shuld it not be possible y^t his mightie hand shold conquere & subdue one silly Knight. But other somtimes descending from y^e moode into a more mad & frantick kind of behauiour, this disturbed Moore did bend himselfe towards the midst of y^e wood, & kéee­ping on his right hand, he repaired towards the brink of a broad & deepe riuer which ran by that wood, where he pur­posed to ease his wearie lims: and the better to performe his desire, he vnlaced his helmet, and hurlde it scornfully to the ground. Now the infernall furies began to visite the Moore, and attended to sting his poysoned breasts, in such sort, that what with desire of reuenge, and sorrow for his late mishap, he was all kindeled in fire, hauing tossed ma­nie thoughts in his crabbed minde. In the end, he cast vp his wretched eyes to the heauens, saieng:‘O ye trecherous Gods, ioyn in league to defend your selues from mine vn­fortunate hand, stay not, but muster your forces together, for if mine owne hand in the meane while be no impeach­ment to the cause, by pulling out my heart, I will change the colour of these christalline waters with the Sacrifices of your bloud: for no doubt there resteth more valour in this one knigh [...], then in you all, when you are together. O ye dastardly cowards, where are ye now become? Trust ye to this, that I haue in more regard the worthines of that knight that fought against me, then I haue in lyking your famed forces. And seeing y^t neither your powers nor my strength, may not paragon to his courage, and to the ende, ye shall not flatter your selues w^t a good opinion of your own soueraigntie, being insufficient to succour me, & much lesse vnable to suppresse my wil, or bridle my desire, I wil renounce you all, & trust no more to your fauors.’ After he had thus spoken, forthwith he began to pull in sunder his strong & bright shining armor, & what with outragious­nes, [Page 3] or with sorow which did greatly gall him, he cast from him one péece héere, another there: & blaspheming against al his Gods, he sayd: ‘What doth it auaile me your vertue, your fauours, or mine owne strength? is it not altogether weaknesse? is it not a shew without substaunce? Haue you not suffered my father to be slain without taking reuenge? haue you not séene me subdued, wanting forces to requite it? Might not my father haue bene preferred before Iupi­ter for grauitie & wit? before Alcides for prowesse? & before Mars for courage? Can I otherwise conceiue, but that you are all dastards, in y^t you take no reuenge: deafe, in y^t you will not heare the complaints of the oppressed: & blinde in that you cannot sée the deserts of me. I shuld think truly my fathers forces excéeding you all, ye haue bene a meane to bréede his death so soone. Why did you not assist me a­gainst y^e Emperor Trebatio? why did you not maintain me against y^e knight, y^t hath cōquered [...] in y^e field. O ye faint har [...]ed wretches, what hath brought me hether, thus in the prime of my youth to be put to shame, by being subdued of this knight. I will vse such meanes, y^t none of you shall take reuenge of me, by dieng at my enimies hands: neither shall any haue occasion to triumph & say, y^t he hath slaine the knight Bramarant. And speaking these & like speaches, he tooke his sword into his hand & said. O good & faithfull sword, release me from y^e shame which I deserue, in that I haue not executed y^t, which I did couenaunt to atchieue by thée, sith y^t neither thy trenchāt edges, nor my approued stoutnes haue sufficiently plaid their parts, to satisfie that, wherevnto my promise hath bound me. A cowardly arme did hold thée, a dastardly hart did direct thée, & an euil guer­don be thy glory. Well, I will shrowd thée in such sort, y^t héereafter thou shalt not stand any other hardie knight in steed, nor be subiect to any man as thou hast bene to mée. This onely thing I request of thée, if any of y^e Gods carry y^e good wil to take thé vp to serue their own néeds, expres in what smal regard my vncōquered hart held thē, & thou [Page] shalt perceiue, that they are not so valiant and stout as I am, or euer haue bene.’ Hauing thus said, he cast it in the déepest part of the riuer, not hauing any more weapons but a poore poynado, which vsually he did weare about him: & taking it in his hand, deliuered these speaches vnto it.‘Thou silly bodkin shalt finish y^e péece of worke, which all Christendome was neuer able at anie time to beginne, I meane in bereauing me of my wearie & lingering lyfe, for I aboue all men onely deserue to léese it, séeing that I béeing the sonne of so valiant a Father, haue not shewed anie sparke of that valour which by right ought to descend to mée from mine auncestour, sith then I haue digressed, I repute my selfe vnworthie to be registred for his sonne. O how worthely doest thou deserue death vnfortunate Bra­marant, sith there are so fewe buddes of valour spring­ing in thée. And let mée not denie but that mine aunce­stours deserued to finde much more fauour at the Gods hands then I haue done. Forasmuch therefore as my cas [...] is so bad, I will neither commend my soule to the tuition of the Gods, neither will I craue of any man so smal a fa­uour as a graue for my wretched bodie.’ Yéelding forth these reasons with a great and pitifull sigh, descending from his heauie heart, hée stabde the Dagger amiddest his ribbes, which pearced vnto the liuer and heart, and so the vitall powers striuing with death, and his mi­serable carcasse beating vp and downe the small sandes for lyfe, there dyed in this sort the most valiant & stout Pa­gan, whose semblable the world did neuer yet bring forth, most vnworthie (God knoweth) of so cruell and pitifull an ende.

¶The worthie Knight Rosicleer finding Brama­raunt giuing vp the ghost, after he was dead, did entombe his corpes neere vnto a Pineapple tree, wherein he did ingraue an Epitaph. Cap. 2.

[Page 5] THE last pang & deadly gaspe that the va­liaunt Tartarian yeelded, béeing distressed betwéene lyfe and death, was ouerheard by noble Rosicleer, who by chaunce (pursuing him and his brother) repaired to that place where the Moore lay wallowing: & aiming very well by his sorrowfull sighes, that he indured heapes of passions, rained his horse towards that way where hée heard so shrill these gronings, and staieng a while to heare his pitiful complaints, laid himselfe squat vpon y^e ground, not far frō whence y^e dead pagan lay imbrued in his blood. And wondering howe so déepe a riuer might chaunge his coulour by the losse of the bloud of one man, began to toss [...] the dead corpes vp and downe, presuming in himselfe, that rather the passion of the minde or the weight of his armor then anie deadly blowe that he had receiued, had brought him to this extremitie. In the end, séeing his visage so be­smeared with bloud, as he coulde not trulye gesse what Knight hée might bée, insomuch as he neuer sawe him but in his Beauer. Héerevppon hée wondred greatly, partlye to sée that this Knight was so strong timbered, but principally to sée his sterne and sowre countenaunce. And by as much as he could gather by his foresayde com­plaints, he imagined him to be the executioner of his owne bodie. He pausing somwhat in a mase, in viewing this la­mentable slaughter of Bramarant, without moouing his eyes either one waie or other, vntill in the ende he looked vp, béeing greatly afflicted in his minde, and déeply sighing, cast his eies that waie where the Moore his armour laie strawed as you haue alreadie hearde, and séeing them to be so greate and strong, he went about for to péece and lay them all in order, which thing being done, he knew by the deuice ingraued in them, that this was Bramaraunt the More, which lay thus murthered. His stout heart coulde not brooke this sorrowfull Sacrifice, but in considering [Page] of the miserable ende which did befall vppon this Tartari­an, he coulde not but shedde from his eyes some trickeling teares, saying: ‘O wretched worlde, what booteth so much the mightie limmes and excéeding forces of any man, when as thou with thy smooth and flattering face, doest drawe them at last that follow thy course▪ to such a wretched end, and at the pinch of all their pangs thou forsakest them. O Bramarant, Bramarant, whose forces did resist the mightie Grecian armie, the incomperable strength of my brother, the tried knight of the Sunne, and hast not had power to suppresse thine owne outragious passions. Alasse thy va­lour and noble courage did require, naye rather deserue, more glorie, and more guerdon then this. Thy strong and fast knit members did merit to be entombed in a more rich Sepulchre, then in this weat and small sandes, and God knowes, neuer deserued to be a pluming stocke to the ra­uenous Fowles of the ayre. What did mooue thée, O most vnhappie amongst all men, to make thy angrie arme be­reaue thée of thine owne lyfe? It coulde bée nothing else I am sure, but thy surpassing great pride: What did moue thée to this vntimely death, as it well may be tearmed, sith thy fortune hath beene such, I will not suffer thy bodye to bee pulled in fitters with hungrie beastes and rauenous Harpies, neither will I sée thine armour dispearsed in such sort, without bestowing vppon thée the due desert of ho­nour, which are sufficient witnesses of the sacrifice of thine owne bodie, and a testimonie of that which thou diddest offer vp to thy Gods, by sprinkling the pleasaunt [...]ieldes and greene grasse with such a crimsin coulour.’ And after hauing thus pittifully bewayled the Moore, hée tooke his helmet, and pulling out the murthering dagger, which was nailed close to the hiltes in his bodie, he digged a déep graue therewith, wherein was inter [...]ed the miserable bodye of the vnfortunate Tartarian. Likewise he did hang the ar­mour vpon a verie faire and high Pine apple tree, which was néere vnto his graue, and with the point of his [Page 6] Daggar did ingraue this Epitaph in the rinde of the Tree.

Nowe hauing finished this péece of worke, he sayde: ‘Pardon mee valiaunt Moore, I beseech thee, because at this time & in this place I do not attribute so much honour to thée as thou deseruest: yet I doo promise thée by the faith of a Christian knight, to fulfill euerie point in this Epi­taph, (I esteeme so much) though it bée done with the losse of my lyfe. And to make the more assuraunce of this my promise, I vowe that no yeare shall passe, but tha [...] I will come to visite thy Sepulchre, to see and knowe who hath beene so hardie and ventrous, as to thinke himselfe wor­thie to carrie away thy heroycall armour.’

And in speaking these and such other lyke wordes, hée did not forget to mingle them with some trickling teares, his couragious heart was so tormented in meditating [Page] of the lamentable ende of this desperate More. Hauing finished his talke and trauaile, without longer abode, he mounted vpon his cours [...]r, and directed himselfe thorough the thickest of the Wood, determining alwayes to accom­plish y^t which he promised, although it did import so much in it, as the weight of his life, as you shall perceiue héere­after. This valiaunt knight continued not without greate griefe of minde, in remembring the order of y^e death of Bra­marant, which did continually occupie his memorie. And as he went thus drowned in sudde [...] of sorrowe, he knew not, neither cared he which way his horse did carrie him, vntill the darknesse of the night surprised him, so that hée coulde not passe anie further, wherefore hée was constrayned to light from his horse to walke on foote, and to remaine in that place all Night, wherefore hée vnbrideled his horse, and gaue him libertie to féede on the swéete grasse, (whereof he had great néede) hauing endured much trauell before. He likewise vnlaced his helmet, and laying it vn­der his head in steed of a pillow (being a course bolster for an Emperours sonne) rested his werie lims vpon y^e gréene medowe. And thus beeing alone and solitarie, he could not suspend the remembraunce of those passions, which the day before he had passed. Also those conceites did call to account more sorrowes, & made him to be gréeued for his long ab­sence from his best beloued Oliuia, whose beautye hée intertained so déeply in his minde, as neither time, place, nor any fortune whatsoeuer, could seperate hir from his good opinion. Nourishing his minde with this swéete pas­sion, he continually tossed too and fro: and in the ende, sée­ing the bright shining Moone, & fixing his eyes vpon it, hée began to contemplate the diuine power of almightie God, not wondering also a little, how that y^e heauens were beau­tified with golden stars, and how the greate Architector of the world, had setled euerie one in his due and con [...]enient place, which ingendered a greate confusion in his minde. These cogitations summoned him to sléepe, wherein hée [Page 7] had not taken long rest, but y^t he heard on his le [...] hand a harmonious sound of some musical instrument, & therwith all so pleasant and Angelicall a voyce answerable to the same, y^t he supposed it to descend frō y^e heauens. The prince start vp, and softly went through the darke thicket [...]es, to the end he might approch the more néerer, therby to be per­taker of that celestiall musicke, but he was hindered of his iourney, for that Dianas brightnesse was eclipsed with a Clowde: wherefore then lifting vp his eyes, hée might discrie vnder a broade Pine apple trée, a certaine Lady sit­ting vppon a quishion of blacke veluet, embrodered with diuerse pretie knots of golde, whom he supposed to be that Ladie, with which her diuine harmonie delighted his trou­bled spirits, her faire & yeolow haire vntied, and hanging downe beneath her eares, did rest vpon her comely shoul­ders, in such séemly sort, and so long, that some part therof touched the black veluet cloath, which did séeme with their golden colour to represent some golden embleme, wouen in the same cloth. She had before hir Christalline breast, a goodly Lute, whereon she played (as you haue hearde) this swéete musicke. There waited vppon her person nine faire damosells, arraied all alike, with gownes of blacke veluet, & on her one side ther lay prostrate a lustie & strong knight well proportioned in bodie, and tall, harnessed in a blacke Diamond armour, without anye other deuice, who was verie attentiue to the musicke, which the faire Ladie did sing: the tenor of the which is comprised in these vear­ses following.

She made an ende of hir song with a pitifull sigh, and letting hir lute fall out of hir hand, with a trembling voice shée saide. ‘O Prince Zoylus, if thou diddest or wouldest knowe the greate trauaile that this carefull Damoisell susteyneth for thy onely cause, I doo verily thinke, that al­beit thou hadst tasted of the water of the inchanted well of Merlin, yet could it neuer worke such effect in thée, as to [Page 8] make thée carelesse of my torments, sith they are so sharpe, and I haue sustained them so long.’

These words were no sooner vttered by this sorrowfull la­dy, but presently, the knight start vp, who was laid downe close by the Lady, and could not be quiet, vntill he had an­swered hir thus. ‘What breath hath loue made in your breast, most delicate damosell? how hath he subdued you with his blinde force, vnlesse the great disdaine and discon­tentment that the Tartarian Prince sh [...]wed you doo op­presse you, I know not why you should complaine: why shuld not you quite his discurtesie with like disgrace? why should you not make him tast of y^e sower which séemes so bitter to you? You sent for me (you know) to come into Greece, onely to be reuenged of his crueltie: and how of­ten haue you wished his head as a Sacrifice in respect of his contempt? And how comes it now to passe, y^t in your songs he is remembred with such affection, thought vppon with such plain [...]s, and called vpon as a diuine creature? Be­léeue mée and doubt not of it (good madame) if Fortune be so fauourable to assist mée in my purpose, I will in such wise contriue these matters, that you shall neuer haue a­nie occasion to lament his lyfe, neyther yet to suspect that he doeth bestowe his good will and liking vpon some other Ladie.’

The afflicted Dame notwithstanding all these his comfortable speaches, could not strip her selfe of any part of these excéeding sorrowes, which so déeply did sting her, wherevppon shée aunswered him in this order saying.

‘Prince of Mesopotamia, I sayle euen nowe betwéene two doubtes, whereby I doo not onely doubt, but am al­so perswaded my shipwracke is harde at hande. For if I become so frowarde, as to enuie him whome I wish to bée my friende, or that I haue so cankered a minde as to séeke to destroie him whome I loue so well, what might be sayd of me otherwise then of a fained louer, and cruell ho­micide: againe, if on the other side I pardon his death, [Page] whose life and disdaine bréeds me this sorrow might argue too much pitie without desart. Alasse, what lucke had I, that loue should intrude himselfe so forcibly into my poore hart, and gouerne there as chiefe Lorde, and could he not haue battered the breast of Zoylo, whose de [...]ence in resisting had bene more strong then mine, but the weakest must to the wall, and the least able must beare the heauiest burthen. How gladsome would that daye be vnto me, wherein I might sée my Knight abandon his straungenesse, and ex­tend more fauour vpon me: or els alas, how willing wold I be that my afflicted heart were drawen out of his place by his bloudie hande.’ The poore Ladie béeing not a­ble to speake anie more, wrong her handes and stayed her selfe against a Pine apple trée, which was behinde her backe, at the view whereof the Mesopotamian knight in great sorrow layd himselfe downe againe, vpon the gréene grasse. And the Grecian Prince wondring at this straunge aduenture, retourned very softly to that place wher he left his horse feeding, with intent and purpose to encounter that Knight, so soone as Titan shoulde appeare to lyght the world with his beames, and for no other cause but on­ly to deliuer his friend from that prepensed mallice. And when as y^e firie Phaëton began with his glancing beames to shine, the Grecian Prince put on his armour, laced his helmet, mounted vpon his horse, and with a soft pace made towards the Prince of Mes [...]potamia, who was now pre­pared to vndertake his iourney with his companie. After they had trauailed a while, the Prince did espie them pas­sing through a faire champain or field, and was greatly a­bashed at the excéeding beautie of the Ladye, whome hée viewed a long time, and loue hauing tickeled him for that she was so rare a Phoenix, he thought for her sake he coulde subdue all the worlde: wherefore he tourned his eyes towarde that place where the Knight was, and if before hée wondered at the Ladyes comely graces, not much lesse was he now amased at the strong bodye of [Page 9] this knight, and at his huge and well fashioned weapons, whereby he reputed him to be some worthie & noble cham­pion. After he had shaked off this imagination, hée said vnto him: ‘Knight, take thy weapons and armour for thy defence, for I am desirous to haue some triall of thée, before that thou doest proue thy valour with the Tartarian Prince, thereby peraduenture to quite him (if I canne) from the like battaile which thou doest intend to haue with him, at the request of this Ladie, and therefore I meane to preuent that diuellish purpose which thou hast promised to accomplish’The Moore heereat began to swell, and verie scornfully and with a feare­full countenaunce replied. ‘What furie or diuell of hell hath placed so foolish a thought in thy brains, to vndertake that ex­ploit, which the best of the Gods neuer durst enterprise:’and not able to speake anie more, his cholar & rage was so great, he laide both his handes vpon his sword, and therewithal let flie at the Grecian Prince such a blowe, that he made his head redouble in his breast plate, and vpon the necke of the same, he discharged another vpon him, which made him yéeld backward. The Grecian Prince wondering at his incompe­rable strength and nimblenesse, drewe out that straunge and vnknowen swoord, which the Quéene Iulia did giue him, and lifting it aboue his head with one of his accustomed blowes, he did smite it vpon the pagan his helmet, which made him bowe downe his head to his saddle Pomell, so that his sen­ces were almost benummed with the force of it, but béeing recouered, he began by little and little to smite and wounde the noble Prince, yet his dexteritie in fighting coulde little preuaile, for the Prince stoode not still, but did so b [...]stur him­selfe, (and with as great furie as the other) that he did scarre his enimie in diuerse places, which he felt not without greate paine, although he made no semblaunce of the same, wherevp­pon the battaile béeing before but kindled, was now on a hot flame, both of them burning in reuenge, and therefore conti­nued a good while furious and fierce, slashing maine blowes betwéene them, which sounded a terrible noise in the thick­nesse of the wood, as if manie Smithes had bene hammering [Page] vpon theyr Ansieldes. But whosoeuer had then behelde the appalled countenance of the Ladie, hée would no doubt haue taken her for no liuing creature, so much did this desperate and fierce combat astonish her comelye face. And think­ing vppon the valiaunt enimie of her Knight, who lyke a Beare that hath lost her yonglinges a [...]sailed him euermore▪ on the one side she wished in her heart the victorye ouer him, and on the other side fearing to sée her selfe all alone, she desi­red greatly truce betwéene them, and that they might parte friendly, & that which did most glad her minde was, y^t often­times she did imagine (& yet but doubting of y^e matter) if per­haps this should be the knight whome she did take so greate paines to finde out, and that which did confirme her surmise, was, that she heard him at the first name y^e Tartarian prince. In such and other like thoughts and doubts, the comfortlesse Ladie passed awaie her time: In the meane while that the couragious Knights were busie how they might dispatch the one the other. But y^e crabbed Moore with both his hands gaue the stout Grecian such a blowe vppon his helmet, y^t he made his horse necke a pillow for his head, wherewithall he began to thumpe & beat all his féeling, & in this sencelesse sort was Rosicleer carried vp & downe the plaine by his horse, y^e Moore pursuing him to cut off his head, but as God would haue it, he awaked as it were out of a dreame, and furiously recoue­ring his sworde, hée tourned backe againe, and repayed the Paganne with such a forcible blowe vppon his friendly hel­met, that his wonderfull strength made the well tempered stéele to yéeld, and therewithall it made him fall backwardes vpon his horses buttocke, casting out blood out of his mouth, his horse carrieng him héere and there amidst the pleasaunt fields more then halfe dead, but Rosicleer would not followe him, but did attend whether and about what he went, who tarried not long but y^t he inioyed his former senses & strength, (being once almost dispossessed of them) and abashed to sée the Prince to haue surmounted him by lending him such a cruell blowe, so extreamely did all the furies in hell conspire in his breasts, that now hauing reared vp his swoorde, which fell [Page 10] from him by force of that vnreasonable blow, he broched his horse with his spurres amaine, and with incredible swift­nesse he encountered with the Grecian Prince, and hit him so mortall a stroke vpon one of his shoulders, that it made his bones rattle within his skinne, but he fayled not to leaue the print of his swoorde in some parte of the sinnow­ed flesh, so that nowe the battaile seemed to bée but begunne, such was the fiercenesse of both these stout champions. And both of them imployed their forces in smiting of each other, and also their wits were not idle how the one by some s [...]ight might sooner cut off his enimie, because it gréeued them both that the battaile begunne two long houres since, shoulde in­dure anie longer without aduauntage of anie parte, where­fore both did their diligence to finish it by some waye or other. And all this while it was verie harde to knowe whe­ther of them had the better ouer the other, béeing equiua­lent in prowesse and manhoode. But the couragious and fierce Grecian béeing angrie in his minde to sée one onelye Knight to kéepe him at the staffes ende so long, replenish­ed with an infernall furye, he beganne a fresh to double and redouble his mightie and peysaunt blowes vpon the Pagan, whereat he had good cause to wonder: and perceiuing that his strength did more and more increase with his courage, he beganne to blaspheme against his Gods, yet notwithstan­ding lyke a firce Lyon hee thought to teare in péeces the worthie Grecian, wherewithall he let slippe so diuellish a blowe vppon his head, that with the losse of his vnderstan­ding, hée did almost fall from his horse: The worthy Rosi­cleer quickelye againe recouered, and séeing himselfe to bee in such a plight, hée tourned his horse so nimblye, that he scarce lefte his treading in the grounde, and nowe when hee sawe himselfe iumpe with his enimye, gathering together his forces and standing vpright in his stiroppes, hee weelded his sharpe Swoorde betwéene his strong and migh­tie armes, and thundered so deadlye a blowe vppon the Moore his head-péece, (who indéede was not prouided for anie defence) the force whereof made a diuision from the [Page] scull euen to the verie shoulders, the wretched Pagan falling down dead to y^e ground, y^e most parte of his bloud came gu­shing out of his bodie. Unneth had hée fallen from his horse when the trembling and troubled Ladie did also fall from her Palfraie, as one that shoulde giue vp the Ghost, whome when her Gentlewomen did espie, lighted all of their Pal­frayes, and with streames of salt teares began to lament her wofull case, & to accurse her froward fortune, euerie one stri­uing about her, to trie if they coulde by anie meanes restore her againe to her memorie. The Prince séeing her in this extremitie, did also forsake his horse and come towardes the place, where this miserable Ladie laie like a stake, and cau­sing one of her Gentlewomen to fetch a little water from the riuer which was hard by, he besprinckeled her beautified visage with it, and therevpon shee came to her selfe againe, and opened the dimmed windowes of hir darke bodye, and when she beheld the Prince so nigh hir, with a profounde sigh and pitifull voyce she sayde. O cruell homicide of my faithfull and valiant champion: thou thirstie bloudsucker of the royall bloud of Mesapotamia, dispatch nowe, dis­patch I saie, to execute thy furie with thy imbrued Swoorde vpon my sorrowfull heart, and speaking these words she fell againe into an extasie as before, which Rosicleer marking, and gessing at her inward paine by her extearne countenance, he turned himselfe to one of her Damoysells, which as hée thought among the rest of hir traine séemed the chiefest, in knowing most hir Ladies secrets, and sayd vnto hir: ‘Gen­tlewoman, I sée (God knoweth, not without great sorrowe be it spoken) y^e griefe y^t your Lady indureth in viewing my face, therefore I praye you tell hir from me, that I intreate her to goe to the Emperours court of Greece, and there pre­sent her personage to his maiestie, and certifie him of all these accidents, and there to stay my comming, for I meane short­ly to returne thether, and then I promise her, that there I will vse such meanes y^t she shall inioye to her great content­ment, that thing, the want wherof doth so greatly grieue her, and because my wordes may carrie more credite with her, [Page 11] you shall tell hir, that one of the Emperour Trebatio his sonnes, the greatest friend that the Tartarian Prince hath, did informe you this much.’ And héerevpon not tarieng for anye replye, he mounted vpon his horse, coursing through the for­rest. When he was gone, the Gentlewomen helped their la­die by certaine drugges which they brought forth for pre­uenting such mishaps, and so recontinued hir health againe, and afterward exprest to hir all that which the knights im­parted vnto them, which report comforted hir not a little. The griefe which the Ladie and hir Gentlewomen did su­staine, in séeing a straunge Knight glaunce by them armed, and to remaine in the woode alone without succour or com­fort of any, I would heere set downe before your eyes: but I am inforced to return to the famous Rosicleer, and at this present, I will not make recitall to you, what Knight that was, who parting from Rosicleer did appeare againe vnto him at his going out of the forrest.

¶Prince Rosicleer trauailing on his way, hauing alre­die taken leaue of the Princesses Ladies, did chance vpon a certaine aduenture, and of the successe hee had therein. Cap. 3.

THE valiant Rosicleer being departed from the sorrowfull princesse, went as he thought the néerest way through the forrest to finde his brother, with set purpose to make him acquainted with that which you haue alrea­die heard, and afterwards to returne backe to Constantinople. So it happened that fortune guyded him into a broad and large way, which was his direct pathe to Constantinople, and turning him to the foote waye where he saw a great gate in hope to learne some newes of the knight of the Sunne. He had not trauailed long, but he descryed a farre off a ranke of men all armed, and they drawing more néere vnto him, he perceiued that they were xx. Knightes armed with black armour, and their head-péeces and beueres [Page] of the same colour, and in their companie came a Chariot, all couered with blacke Searge so close, that it was impossi­ble to see what was within it, y^e light came in through two windowes which were placed at the side of the Chariotte. Foure horses did drawe it, all clad in blacke cloth, and there did ride two faire dwarfes, as guyders of the same, all ap­parailed in blacke. Behinde the same there came likewise tenne Knights cloathed in lyke sort, & by their countenaunce they weare all right sorrowfull, so that the troupe of the Knights that came with the Chariot were thirtie in num­ber. With this heauie countenaunce and great straungenes, they passed by Rosicleer, without speaking any word vnto him: wherevpon the Prince came to those that wayted be­hinde, and demaunded of them in courteous wise, what they were, which were inclosed in that [...]orrowfull Wagg [...]n, but the Knights were so heauie and sad, that they made him no aunswere, but passed on forward, which bred a more earnest desire in Rosicleer to know who was within, sith that with such milde speach he had demaunded, and could not be re­solued to any purpose. And héerevpon without taking anye further aduise in the matter, hée rushed among them that enuyroned the Chariot, onely to see what was within it, but ere he might come néere it, he was lette [...] by two of the Knights which saide vnto him:‘Staie thée Knight, staye thée, for if thou longest to knowe who is heere, thou shalte be hindered from it by vs, which stande heere to no other purpose. It is my desire (sayd Rosicleer) and willingly wold I be satisfied of my request without entering into the com­bat, and if ye would affoord me so much courtesie, as to tell me the cause of so great sorrow, I should bée heartelye glad. Thou maist not vnderstande it, aunswered one of the Knights, at this time, therfore depart thou hence in peace, vnlesse thou wilt make experience of our forces, which doo attende vpon it. I knowe not (replyed Rosicleer) how it shall betide me, but truly whether you will or no, I am purpo­sed to see what is within it.’ After he had thus spoken, hée laid his hand vpon his sword, and without tarriaunce for [Page 12] more speaches, he hit one of them so strongly, that he killed him. His companion seeing this, let driue at the Prince with all his force, but the fierce Grecian suted him a pas­port sutable to his companions: which thing draue theyr companions into a wonderfull admiration, and héerevppon forgetting all courtesie, they altogether enuyroned the Prince, and strake at him on euerie side: but the valyaunt Grecian seeing himselfe in such a prease, it was not long, but that he did vnharnesse some, and maymed other some, and others hee strake downe dead, and cursed was hée vnto whome hée lent a full blowe. In such sort the Prince skir­mished with those Knightes, that they beganne to recoyle, fearing the death, considering that it was better to disclose to him that which with such humanitie hée had demaunded of them. Heerevppon the knightes with blushing counte­naunce made towarde the Knight, and béeing so wearie as they were, which tourned to their owne harme, they strake freshlye at him againe, wherevppon the Prince did cut and mangle them at his owne will. Hée then perceiuing the small resistaunce that they made, he came vnto the Chariot, and pulling vp the coue [...]ure, hée sawe that there was within it, a dead body all imbaulmed, and on the head of it, there was the Crowne of a King, which head vnto the breast was di­uided in sunder with some blowe, and he didde repute him for such a one by his royall garmentes, which were all imbrued in bloude. There sate in a Chayre couered with blacke Cipers, at the foote of this dead king, a Gentlewo­man of a middle age, leaning her chéeke vpon her hande, and her eyes shut, shée bedewed her face and breastes with innu­merable brinish teares, and néere vnto her there sate another Gentlewoman, who séemed to bée but tenne yeares of age, all wrapped in blacke, which Gentlewoman was so fayre, that she appeared vnto his viewe more diuine then hu­mane.

The renowmed Grecian Prince with great admiration and no lesse pittie, behelde this sorrowfull sight, and at length the distressed Gentlewoman, opened hir heauie eyes, [Page] and séeing the Knight, knew he was none of hirs. Thervp­pon with an angrie countenaunce she said vnto him,‘Who are you sir Knight which haue bene so bolde as to come and see what is héere without my commaundement? where are my Knights and kéepers which haue not depended you the passage, nor brideled your excéeding boldnesse?’ The courte­ous Grecian who greatly bewailed the sight which he sawe, and the great dolour wherein the Gentlewoman was, hée aunswered hir soberly.‘Madame, I am a Knight, whose help if it might stand you in stéede, though it were with hazard of my life, you should finde it readie at your commaundement: and as concerning the gard which haue attended vpon you, they haue done what lay in their power to preuent me, but all could not preuaile.’ The Ladie attentiuely heard the spée­ches of the Knight, and hearing the tidings he deliuered hir of hir Knights, she lifte vp the other side of the couering of her Chariotte, she espied some of hir Knights murthered, other some hurt, & other some all to be trampled vnder the horse feete. After she had seene the great ouerthrowe of hyr Knights, with an angry countenaunce she turned hir to the Knight and sayd: ‘The Gods send thée a perpetuall plague, sith that in such sort thou hast intreated the best Knights in all my Prouince, and sith that our misfortune hath bene so great that thou hast had the power to vanquish my kéepers, I beséech the Gods, that thy forces héereafter may prooue as weake, as my troupe is now poore and slender. Follow on thy waye, and suffer me to goe mine, with that companie which hath scaped thy cruell hand, what wouldst thou far­ther learne then that which thou hast alreadie séene? Be­sides this, my griefes cannot affoord me so much time as to recount them, neither hath thy courtesie wrought in me such good will as to recite them. When she had thus spoken, shée opened one of hir casements, and made signe to the dwarfes which [...]idde, that they should whip the horses, which when they had done, they went like the winde, leauing y^e Prince more discontented then he was at the beginning.’ And with­out more tarriance, he continued on his iourney, greatlye [Page 13] blaming the courtesie of so euill mannered people: and hée trauailed a long time without encountering any thing wor­thie the recitall, vntill he came vnto the shore of the Sea, wherein he saw a great boat of verye faire workmanship, vpon which he had great delight to looke, yet he did not for­sake his way, and he had not continued long in riding, but that he heard a womans voyce as he thought, call vnto him: Knight of the Princesse Oliuia, succour this captiue Gentlewoman. At the call héereof, the Knight tourned his head, and gazing on all sides, he coulde not sée who called him in such hast, and so following his waye, hée hearde a­gayne a newe voyce which sayd vnto him: Knight of Cu­pide, thou neuer deniedst to anie thy helpe, and wherefore doost thou not succour me. The Prince greatly astonished, tourned himselfe to sée if he could perceiue who called him, which thing when he could not doe, it bred a bitter passion in him. Going forward in his iourney more carefull then hée was, he heard the third time a voice cryeng vnto him. O son of Trebatio, couragious Rosicleer, what is become of that pit­tie which was wont to dwel within thy valiant heart, towards the succouring of the oppressed Ladies, why dost thou now begin to faile me. When he heard himselfe called by his pro­per name, it did strike him into a greater dumpe then hée was in before, héerewith imagining that the voyce came foorth of the ship which he sawe at the shore side, hée lighted from his horse, and nimblie leapte into the Boate, and his horse as if he had vnderstanding followed him. They were no sooner in the Boate, but it beganne to cut the Seas with such swiftnesse, as the winde which hath long time bene im­prisoned in his caue, and could not get forth at anye chinke, & it blewe now in such sort, as Iuno by long intercession in­treated Eolus, who vntying the chaynes, commaunded the Windes with all their furie to transport the enamored Ae­neas and his Troyans armie into the deapth of the seas. Ro­sicleer was greatlye amazed to sée himselfe thus swiftlye conuayed, and sawe not anye in the Boate which so often [...]ad cryed to him for succours. Héere wée will leaue speak­ing [Page] of Rosicleer, and will returne to declare vnto you, the many worthie déedes that his brother did accomplish, suffe­ring him to ride in his boate, as alreadie hath bene recited vnto you.

¶The great sorrow that the knight of the Sunne receiued in thinking of his owne disloyaltie, and that which happened vnto him. Cap. 4.

THE Knight of the Sunne with great furie and hast, wandred through the Forrests of Greece, as it hath ben alreadie declared vn­to you, kindling the aire with fire, with that burning cholar wherin he was wrapped, vn­happie had he bene, which at that time durst haue vndertaken to haue resisted his purpose, for while hée was in this moode, there had bene no roeke so harde, but hée would haue torne in péeces, nor no hill so stéepe, but he would haue pulled downe. In this sort he went all the daie not fin­ding anie print of that he sought for. The darke night did ouertake him in the thickest of the Forrest, whereby he was enforced to a light and ease his horse, who fed vpon y^e gréene grasse, and he leaned himselfe vnder a high Pine trée, the place being so solitarie, it was a meane to drawe him in minde of many things which had alreadie happened vnto him, and spe­cially it renewed the fresh assaultes of that loue which pas­sed betweene him and the Princesse Lyndabrides musing with himselfe what should mooue him so vnkindly to forget her, and in comparing the beautie of the Princesse Lynda­brides with his beloued wife, he found the Empresse did farre exceede her, and heerevpon the knightes good will beganne to kindle, and was inwardlye gladde of his owne choice, but this affection was soone extinguished, so firmely setteled was that good will bée bare vnto the Barbarian Ladie. The im­pression whereof was so déepe, that hée altogether forgot the auncient loue that he had borne vnto his beloued Empresse, wherevppon with sorrowing sighes he sounded foorth his griefe, and with brinish teares hée saide. ‘Is there in the world [Page 14] anie knight so little attainted with loue as I am, or can there, be anie one so vngratfull as I, sith that I bestow no care vpon one, so furnished with beautie, and indued with so many ex­cellent vertues. Alasse Lyndabrydes, right worthie doo I ac­knowledge my selfe to be chastised with loue, sith that with­out reason I haue transgressed his boundes. As there is no­thing in me to merit your diuine beautie, so am I altogether vnworthie (béeing a disloyall Knight) anie so vnderser­ued curtesie, but I will promise you to execute vpon my selfe a more sharp reuenge, then laie in you to giue me, sith that I haue forfaited that bond wherein I was bound vnto you. Oh miserable knight what sayst thou in thine owne defence, how canst thou excuse thy folly? hast thou blotted out of thy mind y^t souereigne curtesie of thy Ladie? or hast thou suspended the swéet memorie of her diuine beutie, being so rare an Empres? Oh traiterous hart why hast thou yéelded to this folly? & why dost thou not now repent this passed falt, sith that loue which first enthralled thy minde, doth now without ceasing tormēt thy heart? Oh wretch that I am, what condigne punishment may I bestow vpon my selfe. O sacred Emperico, thou gauest me frée possessiō of all, without reseruing any thing, thou didst surrender to me thine Empire, & thou didst yéeld to me thy li­bertie, and I carelesse of my faith, & neglecting thy courtesie, could not intertaine a good opinion of thee alone in my heart, according to thy desert, but haue ben preuented by the Tarta­rian ladie, who hath made a breach in my affection. Forgiue me I beséech thée: Oh sorrow, oh intollerable griefe, no lesse sharp then death to sée my hart diuided in twaine. Is it possi­ble y^t I can liue & sustaine these nipping passions which assalt me▪’with this the miserable knight sēt forth a scalding sigh, & by his countenance appeared to be plunged in great sorrow, insomuch y^t the ecko of his bitter passions moued y^e shiuering leaues to quietnes, & the percing aire to a certain calme stay, only to heare y^e plaints of this oppressed knight. In this hea­uie plight, & woful cogitation y^e afflicted Grecian spent y^e wea­rie night, vntil the glistring Sun w^t his radiant beames, did shine vpon the gréene grasse and swéete budding trées, and [Page] moued the chirping birds with their golden layes to warble forth their sugered tunes. At that present houre the knight of the Sunne brideled his horse, and without setting his foot in the stirop he mounted vppon him, leauing the raines on his necke, to the end he might goe where best liked him, hée had not long iourneied but he was come neere vnto a riuer which ranne through the Forrest, his horse being verie drie ente­red into it, altogether carelesse of the exceeding anguish wher­in his Master was, whose minde was so perplexed in consi­dering his straunge mishap, that he forgot where he was, vn­till the bubbeling of the Christal water awaked his benum­med sences, and then séeing himselfe in this golden streame, and gasing on euerie side he espyed the armour of the valiant Moore, which was chained for a monument vnto a Pine ap­ple tree. The Prince staied long in viewing them, greatlye admiring at such an aduenture, and approching more néere, he might well discerne by the head péece that the armour be­longed vnto the Moore whome he had sought with great la­bour and paine, which sight did greatly trouble his minde. And turning his horse to sée the straungnesse of this misfor­tune, he sawe the bloudie alter where the Moore had commit­ted this sacrifice, & néere vnto it was annexed a goodly graue closely couched by a loftie Pine, wherin was engrauen cer­taine vearses, which when he perused he might perceiue that they were compounded by his brother, and when he [...]ad by reading of them, gathered the sorrowfull end that the valiant Moore made, he could not so well gouerne his affection, but y^t his eyes distilled gushing streames of water, greatly deplo­ring with himselfe the froward fortune of so valiant a man, where by imbruing his hands in his owne bloud had there­by eclipsed his former honour. Then greatly exclaiming a­gainst the wretchednesse of this worlde, and the loosenesse of the people, he did note the solempne vowe his brother made, and therewithall did remember the fruites of his vertue, and therevpon desirous to ioyne with him in trauaile, he did in­graue with his dagger somewhat vnder the other Epitaph, these vearses that followe.

When he had written this, he walked vp and downe by the graue, & by chance saw y^e dagger wherewith y^e Moore had killed himselfe, and taking it in his hand, he sayd: Truly thou hast great cause to lament, sith that thou hast bene the in­strument to murther the best knight that euer ware armour, and in memorie héereof thou shalt staye héere, saying this, he lift vp his arme and strake the Dagger into the pine trée vp to the hiltes, and without any more tariance he tooke his horse and trauailed on through a young groue, the night being very close, till at length he repaired to one corner of the Riuer, which was all shadowed with the gréene braun­ches of Pine apple trées, and not farre from the Riuer, hée discerned an olde ruinous house, which was verie auncient, and as it séemed no man did inhabit it, and as he made the­therwarde, he hearde the voice of one which as he thought sang very swéetly, whervpon he rained his horse & directed his way thether. Not far distant frō a trée he saw a gréene armor engrauen with perfect gold very richly, and there was fast ti­ed vnto a bough of y^e same, a shield of fine stéele, the field be­ing gréene, wherein was portrayed a Mermaide, which in shape séemed to be a Goddesse of the seas. Likewise close vn­to the shield, ther was chained a rich helmet, which was very strong. It might well be thought by the riches of the armor they appertained to some valiant man, and also it séemed the time was long since they had bene hanged there, for that the washing of the water had wasted the brightnesse of the cou­lour. The knight of the Sunne with an earnest desire beheld them, and sawe the bodie of the Trée ingraued with this word Florisdama. And when he could by no meanes vnder­stand [Page] the conceit héereof he became very pensiue, and ballan­cing to his minde the fortune that chaunced to him in the I­land of the wilde Fairie: héerevpon he imagined this other was not much different from it. The Grecian dwellyng in this dumpe, turning his eyes he sawe that all the trées ther a [...]outs did carie the name of Florisdama, and in some places it was shortly written with an F. and a D. It chaunced al­so among those trées he spied a sword fast chained, which by the dama [...] king and brauerie of it, might be gessed to belong vnto some worthie Knight. These thinges procured the Knight of the Sunne to imagine, that this Knight ended his dayes desperately, through the swéete enticing baits of loue, which thing draue the Knight of the Sunne into a greater maze then he was in before, and therewithall engendred a desire in him to sée the ende of this aduenture. The stearne of his ship being thus guyded by a carefull Pilot, he retur­ned backe to the place where he first heard the noyse of the instruments, and the farther passage he made, the shriller he might heare the sound, wherevpon he trauailed so long, that with ease he might perceiue the sorrowfull Knight touch his Lute, with a panting heart, and sometime intermedled his musicke with a swéete voyce and a pitiful dittie. The knight of the Sunne was greatly enclined to know him that be­wayled so bitterly his mishap. And hearing him begin to sing certaine verses, hée stood still. The sorrowfull Knight of the Forrest, began in this sort.

Héere he ended this song, the Knight of the Sunne ga­thering by his dittie the wretchednesse of his estate, he could not but accōpanie his pitifull musick with many streams of brackish teares renuing in his minde the olde stormes that lately battered his brest. Wherevpon he then alighted from his horse, (which before he had not done) and with a soft pace he marched towards the olde ruinous house, where he sawe a knight prostrate vpon the ground all clad in cloth of gold, which in truth was torne in many péeces, and perceiuing the Knight to be of a goodly stature and verie well proporti­oned, and so young that scarce might bée séene anie haire on his face, and therewithall so faire, that the knight of the Sun neuer sawe anie one that might match him, he greatlye wondered. This enthralled knight hauing his eies shut vp, h [...] guished forth trickeling teares so fast, that almost with bl [...]bbering he had dis [...]igured his face. As the Knight of the Sunne viewed all these things attentiuely, the young for­lorne man without opening his eyes, turned him vppon the other side and said, ‘Oh Prince of Dacia, how much better wer it for thée to die then to liue in this continual thraldom.’ The Grecian prince stood still to sée if this sorrowing knight woulde renue his plaintes, who immediatly after with ex­treame dolor began to say.‘Oh death, what doo I féele, whe­ther are thy forces fled, why hast thou now forsaken me, sith at this present thy curtesie might fauour mine estate.’ Oh [Page 17] cruell Fortun [...] (admit there be anie▪) art thou not satisfied with tha [...] iniurie which thou hast alreadie extended vppon me: wilt [...]hou néedes inioyne me to suffer more penaunce: make an ende I saie, of thy greedie desire, make me not sometimes merrie and more of [...]en sorrie. When he had fini­shed these speeches, he began to slumber, and immediatly with a sorrowing sigh he began to saie. Alasse Fortune, how ma­nie things are there framed by thy hands, swéete in all mens taste, and sowre in my disgestion, pleasant to many, and bit­ter to me. Af [...]er this he tooke againe his instrument, & with an harmonious stroke & pittifull voice he sang these vearses.

[Page 18]He finished his song with manie a bitter sigh, and hée was so windlesse with sobbing, that he laye as it were in an extasie stretched vpon the ground. The Knight of the Sun entring into this ruinous lodge, finding the Gentleman in this wretched estate, he began ne to behold the proportion of his face, and with extreame dolour wepte, as well in bal­launcing his owne passed miserie with this young knights, as also for that he verely reputed him to be his brother Ro­sicleer, or els some néere kinsman of his, for that in beautie and strongnesse of bodie, he resembled him so much, y^t there was but small difference betwéene them, sauing onely the beard. While the Grecian Prince was beholding this sor­rowfull sight, the inthralled knight with a déepe sigh awa­king, and séeing the Knight of the sunne afore him, he won­dred what might drawe so comely a Knight vnto so solita­rie a woode, and therewithall he reared vp his bodie, and sit­ting vpon y^e gréene grasse, with many a drerie teare, hee be­held y^e shape of the Knight of the sun, & inforcing himselfe to speake, he said: Sir Knight, insomuch as fortune hath di­rected you hather to accompanie me in this desart place, sit by me I pray you, and pardon my folly, in that you haue found me so disordered. The Prince without making anye aunswere, sate downe as the Knight intreated him, beeing very desirous to knowe the ende of that aduenture, & what cause made him demeane so tragicall a life, he being set, he tolde the Knight, that the desire he had to vnderstande the barke vearses that were in the trées, and likewise to heare his swéete songs, which so harmoniously he sang, mooued him to forsake his waye, and to repaire to this ruinous lod­ging, & therwithall made render of his seruice to the knight. While the Prince deliuered these speaches, the comfortlesse Knight was musing with himselfe, what he might be, who by his comelinesse appeared to be valiaunt, and by his cur­tesie to be honourable, and therewithall was verie desi­rous to knowe what he was, and béeing somewhat stin­ged with the bitter passions which he had alreadie sustained he said.

[Page]Alasse sir Knight, howe little is the bodie touched with the dolefull cares of the heauie heart, and how slenderly nowe a dayes is the guerdon of a faithfull friend, as mine owne ex­perience can best relate it, so shall your curtesie mooue me to impart the well spring of all my woe, and then I beseech you iudge how vnworthily I am tormented, I cannot otherwise thinke but you will pittie my m [...]shaps with some sorrowing sighs, especially if at anie time you haue tasted the bitter pils of loue, and I promise you I would be heartely gladde that it might stand with your pleasure to make me acquainted with your name, to the end I might knowe to whome I might disclose my wretched estate. The Prince made him aun­swere and sayd.‘I am sonne to the Emperour Trebatio of Greece, and am called the Knight of the Sunne, brother vn­to the renowmed Rosicleer, whom you greatly resemble, and be thus perswaded, that the sparkes of loue hath kindled as many glowing coales in me as in anie other, and hath left as deepe impression of sorrowe in my poore heart as in anye other Knight. Therefore Knight as I haue satisfied your re­quest, so I praie you vnfolde to mée the cause which makes you liue so pensiue. In so dooing, I will sweare by the al­mightie God, I will hazard my life to purchase your desired quietnesse.’ The Prince of Dacia which had alreadie heard of the prowesse of the Knight of the Sunne, héerewithall began to shake off part of his martirdomes, and knowing the wor­thinesse of the knight, bowing downe his bodie somwhat low he said. ‘Although y^t my mishap haue ben great in susteining such cōtinual griefs, yet doo I esteeme it slēder, sith y^t héerby I haue purchased acquaintance with y^e flower of all chiualrie, whose valiant hart doth bemone my oppressed estate, & whose only counsell wil determine my exceeding torments. Sith thē renowmed prince y^e loue hath already made a passion in thine hart, wherby you may y^e better be an eie witnes of my wret­chednesse, or to saie the truth of my cruell death: Understand you then that I am Don Eleno Prince of Dacia, sonne to Cadislao, brother to the high and mightie Emperour Treba­tio your Father, and to the beautifull Florisena Daughter to [Page 19] the king of Cypres and Nygroponte, vnder whose winges I was nourished till I was eight yéeres of age, and was tray­ned vp in y^e regall sort as was incident to my parents estate. Béeing of this age, spightfull Fortune who is slipperie to all men, and leuells commonly at the contented minde, spun mée so course a thrid, as I feare me in the weauing it will proue my vtter destruction. This blinde Fortune I saie, conuayed to the king my Father his court the beautifull Princesse Flo­risdama, daughter to the king of Nygroponte, brother to my Father, she was equall to me in age, and so indued with beu­tie, that she séemed Angelicall. While I was thus young, the burning flames began to scorch me, which now doo singe me, and we were so allied, that without anie suspition we wal­ked where we would, and most commonly we spent our time in a banquetting house which was halfe a mile from the Ci­tie which was right faire, & compassed about with christal­line streames, and gréene meddowes furnished with swéete flowers we lead so pleasant & princely a life, y^t wée bestowed all our care in catching chirping Birdes and young [...]ea­uerets. Our mutuall good wills was so greate, as seldome did we forbeare each others companie, mine procéeding of an inward desire to haue hir to my wi [...]e, & hers in regard of the affinitie which was betwéene vs. This [...]ugured life con­tinued vntill we were fouretéene yeares of age, the which time we bestowed in hunting, to the great comfort of my heart (though in the ende not to the harts ease of my mind) my Florisdama hauing a crossebowe in hir hand, and a bu­gle horne about hir necke, little mindfull of that sorrowe which galled me so much. While she continued this vaine in hunting, it begate a singular good will in me to sée hyr shoote, hauing hir golden lockes somewhat layde forth, and vpon hir head was knit a garlād of all swéet smelling flow­ers, she had a gowne of white Satten all laid ouer with gold lace, which made her séeme so celestiall, that she had bene a­ble to haue quailed the heart of Cupid. Beléeue me and doubt not of it, valiant Prince, that Venus in hir most brauerie did neuer excell hir. Neither coulde the inchaunted Circ [...]s [Page] with all her cunning, frame so much beautie in her face, to beguilde those whome she thought to entice. My desire still increased to beholde so much beautie, and the beautifull La­die setled all her care in chasing the little Fawne, which when she had gotten at anie aduauntage, shée would surely shoot and spéed, wherevpon I would speake softly vnto my selfe and say. Alasse, that arrowe we [...]e better bestowed in my heart, for being once dead, I should auoide an hourely death, which pearceth me euerie daie. Therfore be assured of this, Knight, that I sustained not so much ioy by her companie in the [...]aie time, but I endured as great torment in the night by her absence. Béeing thus wasted in woe, Florisdama hadde a narrow scantling at the cause of my passions, and yet was she not fully resolued that it was for her sake, and therefore with making shewes of loue she demaunded what wringed me in such sort, either whether it was an imperfection in my selfe, or a want of boldnesse to discouer it, hauing as I haue alreadie declared attained to the age of fouretéene yeares, I was dubbed Knight by my father, God knowes how grée­uous it was to me to be separated from the thing wherin I ioyed so much. The imagination whereof I referre to your discréete iudgement, most worthie Grecian Prince, sith that alreadie you haue tasted the same sauce of cruell loue, and a­las howe gréeuous were those thoughtes vnto me which brought vnto my minde the enter-course of spéech, the kinde familiaritie, the pleasant walks, and the comely graces of my diuine Florisdama, your passed miserie maye easily haue an ame at y^e same, & my present estate may best discouer it, what shall I say more, right worthie knight, but my passions were so bitter, and my helpe so slender, that I lost my coulour, for­bare my meate, and grewe to be so weake, that an inkling therof came vnto my ladyes eares, who perceiuing in what poore and lowe estate I remained, entreated mée most ear­nestly to disclose vnto her the cause which pinched mée so greatly, promising mée that if my sorrowes might bée relée­ued through the fauour of anie Gentlewoman, shée woulde straine her selfe to release them if it were possible, and [Page 20] would hazarde her selfe to procure her fauour which had so much enthralled me, wherat with watrie eyes I thus an­swered her.’

‘Alasse Florisdama, loue hath layde such a corsiue to my heart, such a flame vnto my lightes, and such a sting vnto my breast, as it hath reduced mée to this state wherein you sée mée. Oh souereigne Ladie, how much better had it bene for me, that rather in my gréene yeares and in the middest of my hunting, Atrapos had shredde in sunder the twist of my lyfe, then nowe to continue in sorrowe without anye hope of release or delart of releefe. The Angelicall Ladie see­ing me wéep so heauily, could not but distill some few teares from her christallin eies, albeit she did not throughly féele the bottom [...] of my inwarde griefe, and therevppon she sayde thus.’

‘Ah my louing brother, let me obtaine that fauour as to ma­nifest vnto me the cause why you faile in sorrowe, and as it séemes remodilesse, graunting my request, I promise you to procure with all diligence that there may be some salue that may cure that festering wound which seemes to cancur your hart & impaire your ioyes, for if you giue me credit I am per­swaded there is no Ladie so vngratefull as to denie you her loue, béeing so valiant a Knight as you séeme to bée: and a­gaine, knowing the worthinesse of your progenie, the disposi­tion of your minde, and those incomperable vertues which shine in you: Alasse why shoulde not the courage of your minde suffice to kindle the affection of all the Ladyes in the worlde. And for that it hath béene your course Fortune to yéeld and surrender the interest of your good will to the sub­iection of one Ladie, relinquishing all other ioyes and pa­stimes. I meane not as now to shrinke from you, but with all my endeauour to reléeue and succour thine estate, vntill such time as my care and practise maye haue light of her, that hath brought so worthie a Knight into such a Laborinth, and hath cleane bereaued him of his libertie, and dispos­sest him of his former ioyes: spare not therefore to im­parte vnto mée what it is that wringes you: thereby then [Page] shall you perceiue the willingnesse I haue to doe you good. And the great care that I will execute, to stay the ranck [...]ur of your disease. The pithie perswasions of this angelicall Ladie, were so swéet and comfortable, that they caused such bashfulnesse in my heart, that it mooued mée to chaunge cou­lour, and through modest shame I could not, no nor I durst not open my lippes for to vntwist vnto her the bottome of my griefe, but craued pardon, promising her, that at our next méeting, I woulde bewraie who she was, that galled mée so greatly, shée béeing satisfied héerewith, and my words carrieng some credite with her, shée departed from me: but the terrible night that I suffred, what with visions, dreadful­nesse of dreames, mistrust of good Fortune, I referre the tast of those pills to your sau [...]ury and mature iudgement, noble Prince. For sometimes I thought good to disclose and disco­uer the whole state of my paine. And immediatly I would charme those thoughts, preferring a cruell death before a per­petuall torment, but yet in the ende I concluded with my selfe, and thought it good to vnfolde the plaites of my sorrow to so good a Phisition, whose skill I knew could helpe mée, if disdaine did not let it. I thought it good to entertaine hir courtesie as one that could enfraunchise my bondage, but wanting abilitie to perfourme my desires by meanes of inwarde paynes, which hourely griped mée. I thought it not impertinent to vse a pollicie by (Metaphora.) And ha­uing decréed with my selfe how to handle this practise, I rose verie earlye in the morning, and shoouing off all feare, I apparelled my selfe more braue then I was accu­stomed, and went out of my Chamber to present my selfe to her, who had more authoritie ouer mée then my selfe. And loe, I found my mistresse attending for mee, desirous to heare the exposition of that riddle which so darklye I had propounded vnto her. The time was excéeding fauou­rable and the place most conuenient, so that I had verye good opportunitie and leasure to disclose the secretes of my heart. And surely shée hadde no sooner discouered a glim­mering of me, but shée came to encounter me immediatly, [Page 21] (whose Angelicall and braue beautie surpassed the twink­ling Starres,) and: he [...] greate desire remayning to knowe the cause of my sorrowe, with a gratious and smiling countenaunce she approched to me and saide on this man­ner.’

‘Louing Cousin, the place is now so conuenient as y^• you néede not to make it strange to me wherein you are so grie­ued, I beseech you blush not to rehearse your pangs, which I knowe doo sting you, and in so dooing I promise you I will aduenture my selfe in anie daunger, howe greate so euer it bée, to remooue those pinching passions which so greatly afflict you. Then I séeing the houre so fit to make my market; I tooke out of my bosome a faire bright Chri­stall glasse, and with a panting heart, I sayd.’

‘Faire Laie, and the onely nourisher of my lyfe, receiue this Glasse, & therein shall you see the Image of her who is the procurer of my martirdonie, and encreaser of my woes: marke well her countenaunce, and then tell me I praie you whether it lyes in your power to vse anie au­thoritie ouer her, I am perswaded she is so neere a friend of yours, as you onely may dispose, which being true, I ear­nestly require you, to fulfill that which you haue promised me, euen for affinities sake, and for promise made▪ I am bolde to craue you to keepe the couenaunts which you haue made with me.’

‘After I had thus spoken, with greate hast and quick­nesse she tooke the glasse out of my hande. And drawing off the couer she looked therein, wherevppon she coniectured straight that she was the bréeder of my woes, which sodaine and straunge thought altering her coulour, she remayned greatly gréeued, staring on me with a stearne and wrath­full countenaunce, beleeue me the memorie thereof as yet redoubles my sorrowe, for considering then with my selfe how bitterly shée harped vppon this string, and what a passionate minde did feede her melancholyke humour, I woulde more willinglye haue spared my lyfe, then to haue her wast her selfe in sorrowe, through the greene [Page] imagination of that [...], which not béeing applyed. I hadde no comfort lefte me but death: and yet with this straunge demeanour she was not contented, but starte vp, and rowling the beames of hir christalline eyes towardes me, as though they were sparkes of fire kindled with ma­lice, she sayd.’

‘Cousin, hardly coulde I euer haue bene perswaded to haue found you so presumptuous, as to haue giuen the on­set to any thing which might preiudice mine honour, or of­fend my minde, partly for that you are bound to please all Ladies, but principally for that you should not harme your friendes, among whom albeit I haue bene least able, yet haue I not bene most vnwilling to stande you in stéed: sith therefore these considerations haue not preuayled to quench the firebrande of your foolish loue, I enioyne you vppon the penaltie of my displeasure, not to make me staine my credit, by imbruing mine owne handes in mine owne bloud: for in so dooing, your villanie shall be published to the world, and the losse of my life shall make your traiterous heart ac­cessarie to my murther.’

‘After she had ministred this corosiue vnto me, she re­tourned into hir closet, leauing me so benummed of my sen­ses, and so surfetted with this banke [...], that not being able to disgest it, I sonke presentlye to the grounde, lying as it were in a traunce, where I was founde by the maydens of honour, which attended vppon the person of the Quéene my mother, who séeing me in this pitifull plight, bethought them immediatelye of those drugges, which might awake my dulled senses: and as it is séene commonlye, that wo­men are timerous in such tragedies, they yelled and shri­ked in such sort, that the Quéene my mother ouer-hearde them, who wondring at the cause of this clamour, and lesse thinking of my distressed estate, repaired vnto the place, whereas I laye thus martired, and séeing mée lulde and rockte vppe and downe in the Ladies lappes, so bathed in teares, and so hopelesse of life, she wringed hir handes, and [Page 22] what with their cha [...]ing of me, and pittiful noise they made, I felte my selfe somewhat reuiued againe, and when I ope­ned mine eyes and sawe my selfe inclosed with so manye Ladyes and Damosells, and she absent whose vnkindnesse hadde dragged mée to this miserie and torment, I sodainlye fell againe into a traunce, and after long trauayle, and no lesse sorrowe, they summoned together my vitall spi­rites.’

‘When I was the second time brought from death to lyfe, I founde they hadde stripte mée, and layde mée in my naked bedde, the same companie continued with mée, which came first to visite me. Likewise there came to com­forte me certaine Knightes and Gentlemen, who demaun­ded of me where I felt my greatest griefe, and what was the cause of it. I then considering with my selfe howe despaire did rule the stearne of my boate, and howe frozen I founde my Mistresse hir fauour (though vndeseruedly I was dis­pised) I didde request them to bée quiet, and to depart from me for that time, giuing them to vnderstande, that I was disposed to sleepe, which courtesie they presentlye graun­ted me.’

‘Nowe Cousin, and worthie Prince of Greece, you maye gesse what discontented thoughts, what bitter imagi­nations, what sodayne alterations of minde, and what sun­drie sorrowes I masked in, beeing hemmed in betwéene dispaire and death. I know not I assure you what humane or earthly bodie were able to sustaine so manye tortures or so often rakings as my oppressed minde did, hauing not a­nie helping carde in my hande, nor anie hope that my For­tune woulde prooue better. In this perplexitie at midnight I arose vp and apparelled my selfe, putting on my armour, the which I thinke you haue séene. Amongest these thicke bushes, I caused a Lackie to make readie my horse with as much secrecie as might bée, and taking my horse I departed out of the pallace without [...]arrieng or resting in anie place a moment, but with continuall sighs and sorrows, in the end of eight daies I attained vnto this place where you finde me [Page] and perceiuing it to be so proper and conuenient to shed my complaints in, I vnbrideled my horse in this wilde fieldes, and determined with my selfe héere to ende my dayes, wher I haue remained this two yeares, demeaning this sorrow­full life, wherein you sée me now, nourishing my selfe, with such fruites, as this wildernesse doth [...]éelde. And somtimes the shepheards that come hether to shrowd themselues from the Sunnes parching heate, doo fauourably bestow some pit­tance on me, and kéepe me companie according to their lea­sure. Thus haue I vnfolded vnto you (most excellent prince) the beginning, not the ending of all my sorowes: sée I beséech you, if you can call to minde any remedie that may stay the rankling of my disease, which hath continued so long, and wasted me to the very heart.’

Unneth had he rehearsed these wordes, but his senses be­gan to faile, he was so ouercome with sorrow in rehearsing the tale.

¶How the Grecian Knight perswaded his vnckle the Prince of Dacia, to accompanie him, & leaue that sorrowfull and desolate life: and of that which af­ter happened to him. Chapter. 5.

THE ioye that the Princely Knight of the Sunne receiued in finding his Cousin in the pinch where some comforte woulde doo him good, can hardly be héere expressed, es­pecially for that he knewe him to bée the sonne of the King of Dacia his Unckle (of whome till nowe no mention is made in the booke before) because of the long sicknesse that the King sustained, and therefore was his name concealed, and his valour clow­ded by meanes of his misfortune, albeit in truth the heroy­call déedes of his sonne did almost equall his auncestours in euerie degrée, as shall be said héerafter. And as I said before, [Page 23] The Prince of Dacia remained in a traunce, imbraced be­tweene the armes of the knight of the Sunne, by reason of the wordes that he spake, yet in the ende he wrought such meanes that he reuiued againe, promising him that if anye thing did lye within the compasse of his power which might bannish his sorrowes, he shoulde finde him readie to per­forme it, and he would rather die then see him linger his life without anie sparke of comfort. This great kindnesse was friendly receiued by the Dacian Prince, and after many co­gitations he thought it most conuenient to returne to his Countrie, and also it seemed him best for his most safetie to cut the seas, for beeing vnprouided of a horse, he might fall in­to some daunger, beeing strongly encountered. Wherevppon without more tarriaunce the Prince armed himselfe with his guilt armour, and girded his swoord close vnto him, and mounted behinde the Prince, and so going where Fortune would guide them, and where the horse made choice of the waie, in the end after a little space they came to the shoare of the sea, where they found a straight and narrowe path, hard by the same, which seemed to them the direct passage to finde some hauen, where they might trauailing imbarke them­selues, and in this manner as I haue told you, they saw com­ming towards them in the sea a faire barke well rigged and trimmed, wherin they saw no pilot to gouerne it, but it made directly toward the place, which when the two Princes sawe it came so néere the lande, they alighted, and drawing more néere, there lanched forth a Gentlewoman all alone, in a mild kinde of spéech she spake and sayde vnto them. ‘Noble Prin­ces, the wise Lyrgandeo which at this present is resident in Constantinople, commendeth himselfe vnto you both, and by me hath sent you this faire barke, which with his art shall bring you where he hath extreame néede of your valour, and farther he praieth you not to stand in suspition of that which I saie vnto you, for y^e truth is, he hath great occasion to put in proofe your soueraign knighthood.’The knight of the Sun his heart throbbed with ioye to heare the newes which the Gentlewoman tolde him, and especially for that it shoulde [Page] be his good Fortune to doo him pleasure, which loued him so tenderly, and had done so much for him in his childhood, and héerewithall the Dacian Prince leapt into the bark, and after him his noble cousin, leading Cornerino by the bridle, and tourning vnto the Gentlewoman, he saide vnto her on this wise.

I am assured that mine olde and approued friende the wise Lyrgandeo doth fauour me so greatlye, that he will not sée me staide for lacke of a shippe, either to pleasure my selfe or to doe him a good turne. The Gentlewoman hauing done great reuerence, tourned her spéech to Don Eleno and sayd to him.

‘Ualiaunt and amorous Knight, Lyrgandeo kis­seth your royall hands, and willed me to tell you that your captiued heart somewhat lately amended shall in the end bée throughly helped, to your no lesse comfort then great ioy, and because your present estate is sorrowful and fraughted with griefe, he sendeth you this armour which is aunswerable to your mourning minde, wrought with a Metaphore, which declareth your passions alreadie passed,’ and saying this, shée tooke the trunke wherein the armour was laide, & albeit the Prince made hast to giue the Gentlewoman thankes, shée was so nimble in vanishing awaie, that his thankes came too short, whereat he was more abashed then before. The Knight of the Sunne tying his horse in one part of the ves­sell, sawe standing by him another more beautifull, the which he knew presently the Gentlewoman had brought for his cousin, and making toward him to sée what armour the wise man had sent him, béeing laide abroad, sawe them wrought all with one worke, LL, and the shéeld was of strong and fine stéele, the field blacke, and therin was set a groue, so liue­ly as there appeared to be nothing but trées, and lykewise there was wrought in it many fine inuentions, which did te­stifie to be the artificiall worke of the wise Lyrgandeo. And in the middest amongest those trées there was a fayre Lady shaddowed, apparelled in a straunge attire, in her counte­naunce [Page 24] shée was verie sadde, her haire [...]littering all a­bout her eares.

The sight of these strange deuises made the Dacian Prince verie pensiue, and caused him to meruaile much at the great art that was vsed in the framing héereof, it was so dainetely handeled. But in the meane time that these two Princes were thus musing and beholding these straunge things, the shippe slyst the Seas, with a braue gale of winde, and carried them so swiftly that when they called to minde the straungenesse héereof they were greatly astonished. In this wise they sayled sixe dayes, not knowing whether they went, nor whether the shippe would carrie them: neyther could they see anie lande, but they were assured of this, that they were directed by the will of the wise Lyrgandeo. And sayled not towarde Dacia, whereat the Prince Eleno was greatly discomforted, but this griefe was somewhat stayed by the gentle perswasions which the knight of the Sunne vsed.

After the long and wearisome trauaile which these two noble Princes sustained, one morning by the péepe of the daie, they did discouer not farre from the place where they were, the lande, towardes which coast the Shippe say­led amaine, the Knightes verye ioyfull héereof beganne to arme themselues, with set purpose to land there. Not long after the shippe came to the shoare with such a bottome rush, sticking fast in the sandes, that they thought shée had bene slit in sunder. Which sodaine chaunce made them with all spéede to leape to the lande, assuring themselues that the wise Lyrgandeo had ordeined the staie to be made there, wherefore without tarrying anie longer, they tooke theyr horses and mounted vppon them, and presently after the Prince Eleno made proofe of the goodnesse of his horse, which was sent him by the wise man, and broching his sides with the Spurres, hée founde him verye readye, strong, and light. The noble and worthie Knight of the Sunne his Cousin stoode by and did beholde him, [Page] wondring how comely he backt him and managed him, the hor [...]e in his iudgement seemed to be of great price, and very swift in coursing, imagining in this sort he alwayes thought that this young Prince was the very portrature of his lo­uing brother Rosicleer.

These valiant knights not meaning to sléepe out the daie, they vndertooke theyr iourny, and in trauailing they came to a narrowe and straight lane which lead them by the foote of a huge and stéepe mountaine, they had not long rid, but they entered into a broade and rough path, alwayes hoping that the countrey would prooue very pleasaunt and well shadow­ed to ride in: but after they had tolde all their [...]rds, it fell out contrarie, for it was a champaine so [...]le destitute of in­habitauntes, and altogether vnprouided of victualles, which discommodities galled these worthye Princes very greatly, and that which gréeued them most, was, that they knew not whether they went, neither could they méete anie one that might guide them in what place and Countrie they were. Trauailing onwardes they found that this croo­ked waie was diuided into two broade lanes: And then bée­ing in a doubt which waie they might take, stood still, and in the end they did determine betwéene them to make a diuisi­on, the one to take the right hand, and the other the left. And thus these two valiaunt knightes parted the waie betweene them both, béeing right sorrowfull that theyr late acquain­tance, was so vntimely separated by a crooked lane. The one hauing lost the sight of the other, they rode very sadly, and the Knight of the Sunne trauailed all that daye, and could not happen vpon any path that might guide him to some towne or Uillage. The night wrapping hir selfe in her browne Mantell, made the Grecian alight from his Cornerino, nigh vnto a faire Forrest and gréene meddowe, adorned with all sweete and smelling flowers, and pulling of his bridle he suf­fered him to féed in the gréene medow. This valiant knight beeing somewhat wearie of the trauaile he had y^e day before, layde himselfe downe vppon the greene and pleasant grasse, to ease his wearie limmes and to passe away the night, wher [Page 25] he slept vntil such time as the graie morning with the notes of the swéet singing birds awaked him. This valiant Prince béeing start vp, returned vnto his new begun iourney, & tra­uailed so long, that at the last he came to a verie faire and cleare riuer, and going along by the brinke of the same hée beheld, howe by reason of the calme winde that did blowe, there did arise manye small bubbles in the water, the sight whereof did greatly delight him, vntil such time as he discri­ed in the same certaine little streames and droppes of bloud, at the view wherof he was striken into a meruaiolus admi­ration, and the farther he went, the streames did more plain­ly shew forth the skarlet coulour thereof, in such sort, y^t the cléere and christalline water had lost his naturall coulour, & was changed into a crimosin, which strange and vnacquain­ted case procured the noble knight of the Sunne to bée halfe amazed, and meruailed greatly whereof should procéede such abundance of this bloudie water. And hauing an earnest de­sire to knowe the head spring of the riuer, and the occasion thereof, he caused his horse to hast his pase somewhat more fast, alwaies hauing an eie to the waie from whence y^e blou­die streames descended, but in the end he lost the sight there­of, by reason of a little hill which was betwéene him and the riuer, and there he was constrained to take another path, which did leade him vnto the toppe of the saide hill, which in truth was not farre distaunt from the brooke or Riuer, And when he came to the toppe of this hill, he beheld there a piller of Marble stone artificiallye wrought and firmelye fixed in the ground. Upon the highest part of the piller, there was fastened a chaine, whereat hanged a very faire table of Cipers woode, and therein was written certayne wordes, which this noble Knight began to read, the contents were as followeth.

Little account did the valiant Knight of the sonne make of these threatning words, which were there written, but way­ed them as winde, and as one desirous to see the end of this so straunge an aduenture, not regarding the perill thereof, he tooke his iourney forwards, determining to come againe to the waters side. So long he trauailed y^• at last he came to a little Temple, that was very curiously wrought, erect­ed to the vse of the greatest crueltie that euer was heard off. Néere vnto that Temple he sawe foure dead bodies, whose heads were cut of, and as it appeared by theyr apparell, two of them were Knights, and the other two Damosells, then casting his eyes a side towards a faire & gréene field which was harde by, he behelde a great number of heades, which were the heades of those that had ben slaine, amongst which were the foure heads of the newe slaine bodies, that hée be­fore found dead, for the fresh bloud did as yet runne out vp­pon the ground. This lamentable spectacle, this noble Greek beheld, with such surpassing sorrow, as almost no heart can comprehend: but béeing rauished as it were with desire, to be resolued of the effect of this so monstrous inhumanitie, he procéeded farther, till at length he approched the Temple, where he discouered a posterne dore to be open, and incon­tinent alighting from his horse with a heroycall courage, being incensed with anger, he rushed in, hoping there to haue found the homicide, which was the chiefe auctor of this tra­gicall crueltie. Béeing entred, the first thing that appeared to his view, was a verie faire Altar curiously wrought, and vpon it the dead figure of a verie faire Ladie, through whose bodie was thrust, a terrible two edged sworde, likewise at [Page 26] the foote of the same Altar, was another figure of a huge and mightie Giant, being ten cubi [...]es in height, all meruailous curiously wrought in Alabaster with straunge and subtil de­uises, who knéeled with both his knées on the earth. This noble Knight was very much amazed, at y^e sight of so strāge a matter, and yet not satisfied, he went into a little Court [...] there adioyning, & found that it was all hanged with blacke cloathes, which represented great sadnesse and sorrowe, and in those clothes was figured diuers dead men and women. Hard at the foote of the foresaid Altar was made fast in the earth, euen to the brimme thereof, a sesterne of leade, into which the bloud of those that were slaine, and their heades cut off in sacrifice, was poured, and out of the same [...]esterne it was conuayed vnder the earth by a gutter very secretely, the which went vnto the Riuer, whereof we spake before: & this was the same bloud, which the valyant Prince did see, in the channell of the riuer, euen the bloud of the four head­lesse bodies that he found newly slaine. On the other side of the Altar he sawe an olde man with a faire white bearde, sitting in a chaire, who leaned his aged head vppon his lefte hand, and his elbowe vppon the chaire side, whose eyes wer shut, and his countenaunce so sad, that it appeared ther was in him no comfort, but onely great sorow and mournings. This valiant Greeke who greatlye desired to vnderstande the ende of this sorrowfull antecedent, approched vnto the sléeping old man, & pulling him by his apparell for to awake him, this carefull old man presently lifte vp his eyes, & with out any delay or farther demaund he said. ‘O gentle & noble [...]night, what crooked fortune hath brought thée into this per­uerse & accursed place, wherein is exercised so much sorrow­full impietie, and wheras thou maist expect no other thing, but death, by the hands of the most cruell Giaunt that euer thou hast heard of, take therefore my counsell, & returne the way thou camest, & that spéedely before thou be espied, for otherwise it will be hard for thée to escape from death. Then the worthie knight of the Sunne answered and said. I giue thée great thankes for thy counsell (good Father) ne­uerthelesse [Page] I request thée to declare vnto me the cause, for that as yet being ignorāt of farther peril, thou séemest to perswade me to so great a feare.’ To whom the olde man replied, for y^• thou séemest vnto mee to be of an incomperable perfection & exceeding force. I will not let to declare vnto thée with as great breuitie as I may this tragicall matter, whereby thou maist well perceiue the singular profit that thou shalt receiue in following this my counsell which I haue giuen thée, and so with a sadde [...]nd heauie countenaunce, mixed with many salte and bitter teares distilling downe from his aged eyes, he began in this wise and sayd.

‘This countrey wherein thou now art, is that auncient and famous kingdome of Tinacria, which not long since, was gouerned by one of the most puissaunt Kings that euer raigned therein, or in any Prouince héereabout: but death, by his accustomed furie, depriued him of his life, and all his loyall subiects, of a vertuous and louing Lord, leauing the guiding of the Kingdome, in the power of two very fayre and Angelicall damosels, his daughters, who represented the former vertues of their noble & late deceased father. The el­dest of thē was named Arcalanda, & the youngest Garasilea. Not long after the death of the king their Father, this fayre Arcalanda was requested of loue by the king of Sardenna, whose name is Bramidoro, a gyant of huge and mightie big­nesse, (as by the stature which thou doest héere sée) thou maist easily suppose: but this vertuous quéene not onely denied her consent in marriage, but also to heare the message of the em­bassadours, and would in no wise sée them, so that they re­turned without any answere. Then this Giant séeing y^e great disdaine and small account that the Quéene made of him, and how little she estéemed of his loue, béeing more infla­med with furie then any other reason, and trusting in his incomperable strength, with fiue hundred knightes he trans­ported to Tinacria, and landing in the Port of Saragosa, he there beganne to make knowen his vnmercifull crueltie, hoping that he shoulde obtaine that by force, which by faire meanes he could not winne. The Knights of Tinacria, like [Page 29] true and faithfull subiectes obeied the commaundement of their noble Quéene, and made diuerse and sundrie valiaunt skirmishes with the Knightes of the Gyant: but by reason of his great force and surpassing strength, they were alwaies constrained to retire to the Citie, not without much losse: for that this Gyant had in his companie to aide him a brothers sonne of his, who in valiance & force of armes equalled well néere his vnkle. And in such sort they mainteined the wars, y^t in small time they put the citie in great perill to be lost, and likewise the whole kingdome. The knights & subiects of this noble quéene Arcalanda, not able long to resist y^e Gyants for­ces, & seeling themselues meruailously oppressed & in great di­stresse, began to perswade with their quéene y^t she should ac­cept his demaund▪ and graunt to marrie the aforesaid gyant. Then this vnfortunate Ladie vnderstanding the feeblenesse of her subiects forces, and the effect of that which they had declared vnto her, and féeling in her selfe such impossibilitie to accomplish the demaund of the gyant, that the accepting of it would be more gréeuous vnto her then to receiue y^• death, she remained for a time in so déepe a studie, (being confoun­ded as it were by her owne conceits,) that she could neither giue aunswere vnto them, nor yet declare anie thing of her minde: But in the end lifting vp her angelicall face, with a chéerefull and merrie countenaunce, she sayde after this sort.’

‘My renowmed and well approued knightes, it is a verie greate thing to perswade, naye rather to force my owne will to the fulfilling of your requestes. The pure and chast Goddesse Diana doth wel know the great wrong that I shal commit against her, in not performing y^• vow which I haue promised vnto her long since: neuerthelesse the consideration of your loiall fidelities hath taken [...]uch déepe root & impression in my heart, that I am more carefull of your safeties, then of the vowe which I haue made vnto the chast Goddesse Dia­na, wherefore I am determined with all spéede to accepte his offer.▪ Therefore out of hande let messengers be dis­patched vnto the king of Sardenna, to aske and demaunde [Page] of him truce for the next daie following, [...]o the intent that I maie make some publyke sacrifice, as well to appease the wrath which the chast goddesse Diana may conceiue against me, as to satisfie my owne heart, for not fulfilling my vow: so incontinently without anie more delaie the Knightes dis­patched a messenger vnto the king, giuing him to vnderstand of all that hadde passed, and the determination of theyr Quéene. The exceeding great comfort that this king did re­ceiue thereat, the time will not permit to declare vnto thée, but with right good acceptation of the truce he graunted to all that was demaunded, and moreouer proffered himselfe to be present at the same sacrifice. The next morning when that Phoebus with his golden beames did scarcelye appeare, they beganne to prepare all thinges in readinesse for the sacrifice) (which hath since beene the occasion of so manie inhumane sacrifices,) and in the midde waye betwixt the Citie and the Campe of the Sardenians, they erected a scaffolde all co­uered with cloth of golde verie rich, and vpon the Scaffolde about the middle thereof was placed a faire table couered also with a carpet of cloth of golde, and vpon it a chafindish of coales burning. This being done, there was straight wayes hearde a swéete and harmonious sounde of clarions and Trumpettes, and sundrie other kinde of instrumentes, these went before the people, and next vnto them wer [...] brought fiftéene rammes, all adorned with fine white wooll: and after them followed fiue Bulls, with huge and mighty [...] hornes, beeing all black of haire: and after them there fol­lowed fiue kine, and with them a certaine number of the Priests of Diana, singing theyr accustomed songes in the ho­nour of Diana: then followed a greate companie of knights all armed with strong armour & bright, without any other deuice: and after them came the Marques of Modique, bringing in his hands the image of Diana, and on either side of him two Knights of great estimation, each of them bea­ring in theyr handes greate vessells of golde full of most precious and swéete Wine. Then after all this came the beautifull Quéene Arcalanda, apparelled with a roabe of [Page] state, béeing of great and inestimable value. And with this ceremonie they went vppon the Scaffolde, where the Mar­ques placed the image of Diana, behinde the Chafingdish of coales that was there burning: and the Priestes continued still singing theyr songs, which customablie they vsed in the lyke sacrifices, drinking of the precious Wine that the two Knightes did bring in the golden vessells, and all at once they brought lowe the stout and vntamed neckes of the Bulles, and the rest of the other beastes by cutting theyr throates, whose bloud they sprinkled all about the Sacrifice, and ope­ning theyr bowells they tooke out the inwarde partes, with the call on the liuer, and put them vppon the Chafindish of burning coales, and with this slaughter they did make sacri­fice vnto the chaste Goddesse Diana, and the Priestes fell downe flat vppon theyr breasts on the earth, and so ended theyr sacrifice. At the sight of this ceremonie was present the king of Sard [...]nna, and his cousin, his brothers sonne, both armed with all their armour, and verie attentiue to this that I haue tolde you. The Sacrifice ended, this vnfortunate Quéene commaunded silence to bée made, and all the com­panie béeing stilled, shée raised vp her selfe vppon her feete, and with a heauie voice distilling manie salte teares, shee sayd.’

‘O most excellent and chast Diana, in whose blessed bo­some the chast and vndefiled virginnes doe recreate them­selues. Unto thy diuine excellencie I doe commende these my last Sacrifices, crauing recorde of all the Gods, that I haue procured and done my best, & yet still doo, for euer to bée thine: for whose sake O mightie Iupiter, I know not how thou doest consent that I by force shoulde loose that, which thou by thy omnipotencie and almightie Deitie, oughtest to kéepe and defende: and not to suffer that I thus should bée compelled to deliuer my body into the power of him which with all tyrannie woulde séeke to haue the vse of the same. And neuerthelesse if to this I doo not consent and agree, beholde the vtter ruine and sorrowfull destruction both of my selfe and also of all my true and faythfull [Page] [...]ubiects approcheth, the which procéedeth onely by meanes of my beautie. Oh sacred Diana, is it possible that thou dost consent, that so worthie a Damosell, descended from so noble a race, and nourished in this my Countrie, shoulde procure to spot the worthinesse of hir predecessours, without respect­ing my beautie, or regarding the chast vowe that vnto thée I made, but that I must needes violate my selfe against all humane nature. Well, seeing it is so, I am content, and be­séech thée to receiue the solempnitie of this my death, which I offer in sacrifice vnto thy Deitie: for me thinke there is no reason, that one infortunate Ladie as I am, should bée the occasion, that such a noble Kingdome as this is, shoulde be brought to ruine and decaye. Oh my louing subiects, by you I am constrayned to surrender my selfe vnto him, who cannot chuse but intreate you ill, and indamage my Coun­trey, which thing is contrarie to all our expectations: in consideration whereof, I am héere constrained with my own trembling hande, to cut off the florishing braunches of these my dayes: for this I sweare vnto you my deare and faithful subiects, that I had rather offer my soule into the societie & sacred bosome of Diana, than to yéelde my selfe vnto this de­formed figure. And thou King of Sardenna, y^e greatest tyrant amongst tyraunts, beholde héere I yeeld vnto thée my body to vse according to thy will and pleasure, requesting onely this one thing of thée, (if ther be any pitie or mercie in thée) considering that thou inioyest that which thy heart desired, that thou sufferest these my louing subiects to liue in peace, wherefore come now I say, and receiue that which is thine. And thou O chast Diana, accept likewise that which with so much bloud I offer vnto thee. And in finishing this sor­rowfull speach, she drewe out a faire and bright shining sword, which she had hidden secretly vnder her gowne, and putting the hilte vpon the scaffolde, (little looked for of all those that were present) she sodaynly threwe hir selfe vppon the poynt of the sayd sword, so that not all that were there, could deliuer hir, for y^e poynt passed through hir body in such sort, (as thou dost see heere by this figure portratured) ren­dring [Page 27] hir soule to hir tuition, vnto whom she offered hir sa­crifice. What should I héere declare the lamentable sorowes and pitifull lamentation that was there made for this vn­happie mischaunce, committed in the sight of all the people, I say it was such that the woodes eccoed, and their pitifull shrikes ascended to the heauens: but none was more galled with griefe, then the afflicted Giant, who rose vp, and like a man distraught fomed at the mouth, and roaring with horri­ble cries lyke an infernall creature, in great furie he rushed amongst the people throwing them downe on euerie side, till he came vpon the scaffolde, and approching to the dead body of the damosell, he tooke hir in his armes, and with a terri­ble and fearfull voyce he sayd. Oh my beloued ioy and earst my onely hearts delight. Is this the desired sacrifice, where­in through thy desperatenes thou hast deceiued me? who lo­ued thée more then my selfe. Is this y^e truce thou requiredst for one day only, therein to conclude both thy death, & mine also. Oh noble Quéene, and my beloued Lady, if this were thy intent, why didst thou not first sacrifice me thy seruant and loue, wholly subiected vnto thy beautie. Woe be vnto thee thou vnfortunate King of Sardenna, that for thy fault & lack of looking too, thou hast lost hir, whom thou madest La­die of thy hart. O ill graunted truce, whereby my hart hath lost that, (yea without all hope of recouerie) wherein onelye it had lately rest. O Diana, is it not sufficient, that they doo worship and honour thée, but that thou wilt haue all goodnes to consist in ielousie? Tarrie therefore, for I will make that thy determined purpose shall mitigate thy mallice, and thy owne deuice shall be thy destruction: for I vowe by the d [...] ­uine Iupiter, because thou hast permitted this detestable act, that so long as I liue, thou shalt not be worshipped for the chast Diana, but Arcalanda in thy stéed shall be adored. I wil procure moreouer to diminish thy name, yea, vtterly to ex­tinguish it, so that there shal be no more memorie remaining of thée, for that thy blondie tyrannie doth deserue no lesse. What shall I more speake (gentle and noble Knight) of the anguish and deadly sorrowe that the King sustained, for no [Page] sooner had he deliuered these speaches, incensed with furie, he set his hand to his sword, & ouerthrew the image of Diana, that was there, & parted it in two parts: and yet not content with this sacriligious fact, he descended from the scaffolde, exclaiming against the sorrowfull Tinacrian people, and sai­eng: O villaines and traitors, it is not possible but that all you were consenting vnto this cruell fact, and determined euil. And vttering these and such like reasons, in his diuelish furie, he began to flourish with his sword cutting, killing, and wounding on euery side, with such vnmercifull crueltie, that in a small time there did not remaine one of all them, that were there present, but I alone: and by reason that I was one of the Priests of Diana, he saued my life, although he little esteemed it. Then when this fierce and bloudie di­uell did sée that all were slaine, and that we two onely re­mained, he tooke the dead Quéene in his armes, & commaun­ded me to follow him with my praiers and orisons accusto­med vnto Diana, and bringing hir to this place, he strayght wayes commaunded this Chappell to be buylded, in this order as you now sée, and promised by vowe vnto all the Gods, to sacrifice euery wéeke sixe persons, naturally borne in the lande of Tinacria, thrée men, and thrée women, in sa­tisfaction of the bloudie sacrifice that they consented to be of­fered by their deceased Quéene. And it is now two months past, since they haue vsed this tyrannie: and it is not onely he that doth persecute the poore people of Tinacria, but hée hath also to farther him in this his diuelish determination, his brothers sonne, being of like cruell disposition as him­selfe. And in this sorte doo these two hell-houndes exercise themselues in this detestable murder, insomuch that the Ci­tie is almost left desolate, and there remaineth verye fewe which doth maintaine the warres. And you shall vnderstand moreouer (gentle Knight) that the Citie is so strong, that it is not possible to win the same, neither by force of armes, neither by hunger or any other ingen, for that it is so well furnished with munition and vittailes: yet in the citie there are but a small number of Knights, which for their great fi­delitie [Page 30] and loue vnto their Countrie, haue not lefte it deso­late, but doo defend it to the vttermost of their powers. Ne­uerthelesse to the iudgement of all men, although for a time they doe neuer so politikely defend and make resistaunce a­gainst their enimies, yet in the ende they shall be driuen to yéelde and to render themselues: for that in two battayles which the people of the Iland haue had, the diuelish Gyaunt hath had y^e victorie, so that now they remaine in great feare, for that the strength of these two tyrants, is incredible to be tolde. Now héere (gentle Knight) I haue declared vnto thée that which thou so greatly didst desire to knowe, requesting thée to returne backe againe, he way that thou didst come, & to kéepe thy self from féeling the euent of this expressed euil.’ The noble Prince which with strange attension gaue care vnto this sorowfull Priest, béeing fullye determined to ad­venture his lyfe for to violate this cruell and wicked cu­stome, answered, (not according to the counsell the which he gaue him, but according vnto his couragious determinati­on,) saying. Friend, where is (I beséech thée) the abiding of this vnmercifull giant, & which is the way y^t leadeth thether. The old Priest replied, His Castle is two leagues distaunt from this temple: but what shall it auaile thée to know the same? & what profit wilt thou get by going thether, but only death: but if thou wilt néedes aduenture thy selfe, the same which brought thée hether, is y^e direct way thether, for other there is none. Moreouer, the valiant prince demanded of him if he could aduertise him how many knights & what store of people the Gyant had about him, and he aunswered that the most part of them that wer about him were seruants, & that all the rest of his knightes and men of warre, were placed in other castles and fortes of the Iland. And while they were occupied in this cōmunication, they heard without the chap­pell horsemen, as it appeared by the treading and noyse of their horses. Wherefore to vnderstand what they were, they staid their talk, & the prince issued out of y^e chappell, where he found sixe knights, armed w^t verie good & strong armor, who were alighting from their horses to enter into y^e chappel, but [Page] when these knightes espyed the Prince so well proportio­ned and of so good disposition, & with his armour of strange deuice contrarie vnto theirs, then one of those sixe knightes which séemed to haue more authoritie then the rest, sayd. Oh Knight, what infernall furie hath hardned thée to aduen­ture hether, knowing the custome which is vsed héere. But it séemeth vnto me that rather ignorance is the occasion héere­of, more then anie other thing, wherefore I am content to let thée depart againe vpon condition, that thou leauest with me thy armour and thy horse (if it be thine to giue) for that they doo greatly delight me. This valiant Prince dissembling his anger, with a very merrie and smiling countenance made an­swere.

You haue sayd true, y^e ignorance hath brought me hether, for y^t I am a straunger in this countrie, and neuer vnderstood that anie such crueltie hath ben vsed héere till now, that this good olde man hath tolde mée. But to giue thée my armour▪ I am not determined at this time, for that I am not accusto­med to trauaile without it. And as for my horse, I doo insure thée that he will let none take his backe but my selfe, there­fore it were best thou aske some other thing, for that in this I pretend not to accomplish thy request. They vnderstanding the wordes which the Prince aunswered vnto them, one of the sixe knights pretending more hardinesse then all the rest, replyed. I will sée how thou canst defend thy horse, and with that he went to laie hande on the horse bridle, which he had not so soone proffered, when the fierce horse opened his mouth and with great furie he caught him by the shoulder, and lift him vp from the ground, and in his fall he all to trampled & troade him in péeces, and so slew him. At the which this no­ble Prince could not refraine from laughing, and merrilye sayd.

In this sorte doth my horse rewarde them that bée so bolde and hardie of enterprise. Then the Knight which did first speake vnto the Prince, sayde vnto him with excéeding great anger. I doo promise thée for certaintie, that this great disorder and outrage which thy horse against my companion [Page 31] hath done shall cost thée thy lyfe: And on a sodaine another of the fiue knightes which remained drew out his swoorde, thinking to haue cut off the horse legs, but this expert horse with great lightnesse shunned the blowe, and on a sodayn [...] rose on his hinder féete, and with his fore féete he played so with his helme, that he broke it all to péeces and threwe the knight dead to the grounde: the which fact did greatlye a­mase these knights of Sardenna. Thē the noble Prince with a pleasant semblaunce said. I am afraide that if in this sort you battayle with my horse, he will in y^e end deliuer me frō all danger of the losse of my armour. Then this other knight hearing these wordes, which he tooke to be a greate reproch vnto him, béeing almost ouercom with anger, in a great fu­rie and rage he drew out his sword, and flourishing it about his head, he saide. The greate outrage which thy horse hath héere done, (as I before said) thou shalt spéedely repay with the losse of thy lyfe, and vttering these words, he smote the Prince vppon the helme so vehemently and with such cou­rage, that the very sparkes of fire sprong out, & fell burning to y^e ground. This noble prince féeling y^• blowe not looked for, determined that that miserable knight should not go vnpaied for his good deede, least he should praise himselfe for dooing it, but with great [...] anger and furie he stroke the knight such a blowe a little aboue the wast, that it almost parted him in two péeces, so that he fell downe dead to the ground. Then the other thrée Knights séeing this terrible and vnmercifull blowe, made no tarr [...]eng, but all at once fell vpon y^e prince, doubling their blowes to bring him to his ende, that it was wonderfull to sée, but this worthie Knight, who lyttle estée­med of such daungers, stroke one of them so harde vppon the head, that he cut him downe to the breast, & he fell downe dead vpon his other companion. And tourning to another, at one blowe he parted his shéeld in péeces, & cut off his arme frō his shulder. Then the other knight which remained aliue, séeing his cōpanions to be so ill intreated by one only knight, thought it best to saue his life by trusting to his legs, rather then to repose any confidence in his prowesse, for that hée [Page] thought it would little preuaile him, and betaking him to his feete, he fledde awaie: Of whome this noble Prince made small account, but let him go, the olde priest of whom we be­fore spoke, was present and beheld all that had happened, and meruailed verie much at the great prowesse of the vnknow­en Knight. And this noble Prince seeing himselfe cléere of them that would haue done him wrong, retourned vnto the Priest and asked him if he hadde anie thing that he might eate, and requested him to let him haue it, for that he hunge­red and had great néede thereof. Then this Priest gaue him such meate as he hadde for himselfe, still perswading the Prince for to returne againe the same way hee came, and not to put himselfe, into that so daungerous and terrible an ad­uenture, but this heroycal prince made little reckoning of his requests, but giuing him great thanks for the good entertain­ment he gaue him, he tooke his leaue of him, & went the same which lead way towards the castle where the giaunt dwelt, & trauailing by little & little with an easie foote pace, he anone had a sight thereof, and perceiued that it was verie fayre to behold, and walled about verie strongly, which he beheld not long, but that he harde a Trumpet sound with meruailous sweete melodie, and at the sound thereof there looked out of a window a gyant, being a yong man of great & large bignes, & comely in all parts accordingly, his face was verie ire [...]ull to looke on, but not ill fauoured, but rather séemed to be ador­ned with a senere kinde of grauitie. This Gyant looking that way where this noble Gréeke was, he asked him with a high and mightie huge voice.

‘Knight, what doest thou héere so securely séeke, and what wouldest thou haue, not respecting this my vnfortunate and vnhappie custome, but without anie feare thereof thou ap­prochest hether, presenting thy selfe of thy own free will to be sacrificed. But this worthie Gréeke in the meane time that the Gyant spoke these wordes did contemplate himselfe in beholding the huge making and the greate strength that did appeare hée hadde by the proportion of his members. And placing his words with great discreation he answered [Page 32] and sayd. I come to demand battaile of thée O King, not for that thou hast at anie time gréeued mée, or giuen mee cause, but onelye to take awaye and frustrate (if it bée possible) this euill and di [...]ellish custome which thou maintainest, or else to loose my lyfe in the quarrall, therefore if thou do­est thinke good to procéede in this thy hellish pretence, take thy armour and arme thy selfe and come foorth, and heere in this fielde I will abide thy comming, where I hope by the fauour of almightie God, that with thy death thou shalt paye héere the tribute of all this tyrannie which thou hast vsed.’ The Gyaunt remained still at the windowe be­holding this worthie Grecian Knight, for that hée séemed vnto him to bée a Knight of greate valour and prowesse, (by his comelie proportion, and by the deuises that hée had in his armour hee séemed to bée a straunger) with a familiar countenance he sayd.

I would somewhat replie vnto these thy wordes, but because thou shalt not saie I speake lyke a Thrush in a cage, I will referre it till such time as I am with thée in the fielde, if thou darest to abide my comming. And so without anie more speaking he withdrewe himselfe from the win­dowe, and with a terrible voice hée called for his armour, in the meane time this noble Greeke did peruse his harnesse in all partes that it was well, for it was néedfull, as héereafter you shall heare.

¶Of the terrible battaile that this Grecian Prince had with the Gyant, and of all the aduentures that chanced in the said battaile. Chap. 6.

THis worthie Grecian knight lifting vp his heart and eies vnto heauen, craued fauour and helpe of almightie God, requesting his aide against so great and terrible an aduer­sarie, and being thus in his praier he sodein­ly heard a great noise & well consorted sound of Trumpets, the which made melodious and swéet harmo­nie, and not long after this the gate of the castle was opened, [Page] where out issued the Gyant at all pointes armed with ve­rie rich armour of fine stéele, and vppon his right shoulder a great clubbe barred with yron of a huge weight, and at his girdell a verie bigge and broade swoord, and about his necke there hanged a rich and strong Shielde, whereon was portratured the same deuise which he sawe on the Altar in the Chappell. In his demeanour, he showed himselfe to bée valiant, and with a gentle countenaunce he came towardes the place whereas the Knight abode. All this, the noble and courteous Greeke did stedfastly beholde, and prayed God, that of his mercie he would abolish this euill custome that he did maintaine, and that he would giue him grace to ac­knowledge his error wherein he had transgressed, and that he might be conuerted vnto the knowledge of y^e true faith, for that it was great pitie, to sée so much crueltie remaine, in so noble & worthie a personage, as he was, or in so well proportioned a bodie as he séemed to haue, and thus this no­ble prince remained in beholding his personage till such time as the Gyaunt drew nigh vnto him, who without shewing anie defiaunce or countenaunce of pride, saide. ‘I be­leeue (gentle Knight) that this my presence hath put thée in some feare of my force, therfore for that thou séemest to be a knight well disposed & of great valor, I yeelde vnto thée the battaile. And if so be thou mistrust thy power, I giue thee lisence to return from whence thou camest, or else if thou so please, to remaine with me in my companie. But this valy­ant Greeke as one nothing daunted, without moouing of his countenaunce aunswered and sayd: Doe not thou thinke O king, that the bignesse of thy bodie, although it shew thee to be of great strength, maketh me in anie part either to mer­uaile or feare, for that my swoord hath bene accustomed to a­bate the courage of diuerse such as thou art, but that which maketh me most to muse, is, y^• god hath suffred thee so long time to exercise this crueltie. And againe, that thou being a­dorned with so gentle disposition and courage, vnto my see­ming conformable, wouldest maintaine so cruell a custome, without either feare of God, or regard of his lawes. Neuer­thelesse [Page 33] considering thou hast no knowledge of the true God, but of other fained Gods, I doo not so greatly muse that thou hast followed thine owne appetite so much, but take my counsaile, and bestow not this thy great strength and force in the seruice of those euill Gods, but turne vnto my God, and in his defence and faith (which is the right faith) exercise these thy good giftes, with the which he hath endowed thée, and if thou wilt thus doo, I will take thée for my friend and kéepe thy companie, for that thou [...]éemest vnto me to be of so good a disposition, & one y^• doth well deserue to be had in reputatiō. For verely, it is conuenient (worthy King) that thou leaue this crueltie which thou dost héere vse, béeing so farre diffe­rent from natures rule, and to forget this seruice which thou doost vnto the Diuell, which is the onelye willer of this damnable worke: and so reforming thy life, I would wish thée to become a christian. For I promise thée it doth not a little gréeue me, that so worthie a knight as thou art▪ should through vnbeléefe perish and be dampned: and if alreadie thou haue anie remorse in conscience, or perseuerance of this my spéech, accept my counsell I request thée, which if thou doo, I promise thée to be alwaies thine, and by firme frindship to vnite my selfe vnto thy fellowshippe. Contrariwise, if thou persist in this thy pretended tyrannie▪ prepare thy selfe, (and that spéedely) vnto battaile, whereby thou shalt perceiue how smally I feare thy force, (as thou doest fondly suppose.)’

The Gyaunt which was verie attentiue vnto all that the Prince had vttered, replied in this wise. ‘Before we beginne our battaile (sir Knight) let me request this little sute of thée, which is, that thou vnfolde to me thy name, forasmuch as by thy comly proportion thou séemest to descend from some no­ble progenie, and by thy behauiour to be of no lesse prowesse then authoritie: the one arguing in thée no small valour in fight, the other no little eloquence to subuert thy foe. The heroycall Prince discréetly marking with what sober aduise­ment he deliuered these speaches, with no lesse mildensse, re­turned vnto him this answere, saying. Forasmuch as I will not in anie respect be accounted either quarellous by concea­ling [Page] an answere, or disdainful by denying thy request, vnder­stand then (O King of Sardenna) y^t I am a Grecian borne, & named the Knight of the Sunne, sonne vnto the renowmed Emperour Trebatio, and brother vnto the inuincible Rosi­cleer, whose courage as yet was neuer quailed in fight, ney­ther hethertoo hath my heart bene vanquished by any force: for although as yet I haue detracted time, by meanes of this my conference, it hath not bene for any conceiued feare, but the onely griefe of my conscience, which is not a little afflic­ted with sorrowe, to sée so worthy a personage as thou art, so impiously to lead thy life: admonishing thée friendlye to forsake thy former wickednesse, and to reuoke the abhomi­nable sentence of thy frowarde will: & séeing I haue both answered thy demaund, & thou vnderstandest my desire, I would faine be certified whether thou wilt accepte mée for thy friend, or defie me as thy foe: that either by thy subuer­sion we may fauourably conclude, or by thy persisting, pro­céede to the combat: for although for thy sake I chiefly wish for peace, yet for mine owne part, I am indifferent. Great is the ioye (aunswered the Giant,) that I conceiue at the sight of thée, whose worthinesse is so much wondred at through­out the world, and to the ende I may both trye thy famous strength, and thou feele my renowmed force, I accept y^e bat­taile, with this condition, that if by thée I be now vanquish­ed, I will not onely in my armour blaze forth the honour of my conquerour, but for euer héerafter I wil submit my selfe willingly to thy commaundement: and if my Fortune be so friendly that I subdue thée, thou shalt in satisfactiō leaue vn­to me, the thing thou most likest: which is my life aunswe­red this noble Prince, as a due rewarde for my weakenesse. That were much more then I would willingly request (re­plyed the Giant): but if, (which indéede is doubtfull) thou escape my handes, thy horse shall suffice me, if likewise hée féele not my furie, in that (as I suppose) he is of so singu­lar properties.’

‘If thou obtaine the victorie (aunswered the Prince) I [Page 34] promise thée my horse, which I will héere in safe [...]ye leaue, both for that if thou winne him thou shalt be sure to inioy him: and also for that I neuer vse in anye battell to fight with aduantage. Wherewith, with no lesse agilitie then cou­rage, he lefte the saddle, and drawing out his sword, coura­giously he sayd: Giant, prepare for thy defence, for beholde me readie to beginne the fight: and therewithall hée gaue him so furious an ouerthwart blowe vppon the waste, that the sparkes of fire fell burning to the grounde, and the strength of the stroke constrained the Giant, to stagger sidewarde, thrée or foure steppes, deceiuing him for that time of the daungerous blowe, which with his peysaunt clubbe he had prouided to indaunger the Prince.’ But when he felte this course intertainment, his cholar double increasing, hée lyghtlye recouered, and lifting his clubbe aboue his head, he determined to repaye the Prince with such vnresonable in­terest, that at that one blowe hée woulde ende the battayle: (which in déede if in the descending, it hadde lighted on the Gréeke, it hadde not a little indaungered him). But the no­ble Prnce béeing of no lesse prowesse then experience, and nothing vnacquainted with such skirmishes, hauing an eye to the maine, by the nimblenesse of his bodie made waye for the blowe, which without harming him, fell to the grounde with such terrible furye, that it caused a re­sounding Eccho, in the woodes and mountaynes there ad­ioyning.

The valyaunt Knight of the Sunne, greatlye misliking so monstrous a weapon as that [...]lubbe was, determined (with as much spéede as possiblye he might) to delyuer himselfe from the daunger thereof, and before the Gyaunt coulde recouer another blowe with the same, he strake a­gaine at his handes, with so great force and incredible fu­rie, that he cut his heauie clubbe a sunder, and moreouer if he had followed his blowe, both clubbe and handes had [...]allen to the ground: Then when the Giant remained with no more then a yeard of his club in his hand, much meruai­ling thereat, he threw the rest at him with such rage, that it [Page] whisteled in the ayre, but the knight perceiuing the troncho [...] to approch, stepped aside and let it passe by, and closing with him, with the strength of his Herculine arme he stroke him such a blowe vpon the thigh that the harnesse brake all to péeces, although they were excéeding strong, and wounded him vppon the thigh, which wounde although it were not much, yet the aboundaunce of bloud that ranne from it did greatly trouble him. The Giant séeing himselfe so ill intreated, with a wonderfull and outragious furie, gaue ter­rible & fearfull shrikes, and out of his helmet issued foorth a thicke smoake, and therewith he drew out his huge & broad [...] swoord, and shrouded himselfe vnder his strong shéelde, and began with great furie to redouble his strokes vppon the knight, the which the noble Prince with greate nimblenesse defended him from. Now héere began y^e brauest & best fought battaile that euer was séene betwéene two knightes, there might you beholde the whole strength and valiantnesse of gi­ants, there might you perceiue all the prowesse of knighthood, with euery policy vsed in armes, ther might you sée how these two knights pressed one vpon another, and procured one to hurt another, and also to warde the cruell blowes, y^t the one bestowed on the other: there might you view the sparks of fire like lightening flash from their terrible strokes, and the péeces of harnesse flying in the aire, hauing no compassion the one of the others paines, but each one séeking to haue the vauntage of his enimie, trauesing grounde from one place to another, that it was right wonderfull to beholde, and howe lyke two ramping Lyons they endured for the space of two houres, without receiuing anie rest, neither could it be percei­ued that anie of them both did faint, but rather the longer they fought, the more their furie kindled and their strength augmented, of the which the Gyant much meruailed, and fée­ling the great force of his aduersarie which was before him, was not a little amazed, but that which most gréeued him, was, that he could not fasten one blowe to his contentment vpon his enimie, for which cause hée beganne to exclaime agaynst his Gods, but especiallye agaynst Mars, for tha [...] [Page 35] hée was perswaded, that hée was descended from Hea­uen, to make that combat with him, whereby to worke his destruction. And therewith his furie double increasing, with an infernall anger, he multiplied his blowes with so great hast and strength, that he caused the Gréeke, to bestur him­selfe from one place to another to make his defence: but he as one which was not idle, but by these means the more inflamed, letting slip the bridle of all patience, his valiant & heroycall courage double increased, and his strength & light­nesse did surmount in such sort, that vnder his harnesse in more then ten places he hurt the Giaunt, and although the wounds were not great, yet the bloud that issued out, was very much. Then the Giant séeing himselfe in such a pickle, threw his shielde from him to the ground, and with both his handes tooke his great cutting sword, & heauing it aloft, he let it fall with such wonderfull furie, that it was verye straunge to beholde. But this politike Prince séeing on which part this terrible blowe would fall, determined not to receiue it, but with a light leape did cléere himselfe from the fall thereof, the which fell to the grounde with so greate and terrible hast, that the halfe of it entred into the earth, and by reason that the stroke was giuen more of anger then of cunning, by the great strength that he put to it, he could not keepe himselfe, but was forced with the stroke to fall with his breast vpon the pommell of his sword. He was no sooner downe, but the Sonne of Trebatio gaue him another vpon his helme, that it sounded as though he had stroke vpon a bell, wherewith the Giant fell flat to the ground, greatly a­stonished, and almost beside himselfe. This valiant Greeke when he sawe him in this traunce, laide fast holde vpon his helme, and with the excéeding strength that he set to it, hée pulled it from his head. The Giant which was then some­what recouered, caught holde vpon the skirt of his harnesse, and pulled the Knight towards him with such strength, that he was not able to make resistaunce, but néedes he must go whether his strong arme carried him. Then gladly woulde this noble Greeke haue defended himselfe from this perill, [Page] but he in no wise could, for stumbling vppon the Gyaunt he lighted on his breast, in such tumbling sorte, that he fell on the other side of him, & séeing himselfe so ouerthrowen w^tout any power in himselfe to prouide for help, he gaue a loude cry & said. O Iesu Christ the sonne of God deliuer mée from this daunger, so incontinently as soone as he was at the grounde, with a light and valiaunt courage hée rose vp againe, preten­ding not to shew anie pittie or fauour in this fight, and re­turned to the Gya [...]t whom he found on foote and readie to defend himselfe, and approching nigh him, because he would shewe the greatnesse and valiaunt stomacke that hée had, hée sayde. Ualyaunt King, take to thée thy holme, for that I will not that for lacke thereof thou doest loose the surmoun­ted valour of thy heart. The Gyaunt which had prooued by experience the great prowesse of his surmounted strength, and againe séeing his noble curtesie in offering him his helme, with an humble and méeke voyce hée sayde. Ualiant Prince, I praie thée tell me if it be true, that thou art he which at the beginning thou saydest thou wert, or whether thou art the God Mars, which is come downe from heauen to destroye mée, and to make my strength of no estimation. This wor­thie knight then placing the point of his swoorde vppon the grounde, and leaning his arme vppon the crosse of the hilte, not making anie outward apperaunce of wearinesse that he had in this battaile, with an amiable countenaunce he sayd.

‘O king, if thou wouldest acknowledge this greate cruel­tie which thou committest, and the small reason which thou hast to execute it, and howe greatly thou doest erre and art ouerséene, in thinking that thou seruest thy Gods in maintai­ning and defending such extreame tyrannie, thou shouldest do much better, & so returne vnto the knowledge of my God, who is the true creator of heauen & earth and all that therin is▪ Then the Gyant replied vnto him & sayd: Of truth (gentle Knight) thou knowest well how to extoll thy God in whome thou dooest beléeue, but howe shall I knowe that this thy God is of more goodnesse and vertue then my Gods. Unto whom the Prince answered and sayde. Oh king, that is ve­rie [Page 36] easie and apparant to be séene and perceiued. Tell me I praie thée that if at anie time thy Gods haue in their owne causes had anie power or defence? no surely, for if they had, then would not they haue suffered themselues to bée so ill intreated of them who should worship and serue them, for if at anie time your Gods doe not graunt vnto your requests, and performe that which you would haue them doo, then you beginne to curse and to banne them, and speake the worst that may be spoken of them, and some of them you throwe in­to the fire and burne, and other some you pull out of their Tabernacles, and tread them vnder your féete and polute them, and presently you leaue them and chaunge them for other new Gods, and vnto them you doe your worshippe till such time as they likewise fulfill not what you aske of them, and yet these poore and infortunate Gods are in no fault, for that at anie time they cannot helpe themselues, but doeth burne in the pit of hell. So that it commeth of a great sim­plicitie y^t thou wilt beléeue in the diuell, who is the authour of all euill, and forget the creator of all thinges, who hath gi­uen thée this thy strength and prowesse, and will deliuer thée in all thy necessities. Oh king thou shouldest not néede any other proofe, but onely that which thou thy selfe diddest vn­to the image of Diana. For in thy anger thou diddest throw it downe and cut it with thy swoord, and diddest vnto it all the euill that thou couldest, so that if they had had anie pow­er, thinkest thou then they woulde haue suffered that thou shouldest haue offered this outrage vnto them, no I tell thée thou mightst not haue bene once so hardie as to haue moued against them.’The Gyant who then was somwhat touched with the truth, sayd.

Worthie Prince, I henceforth promise thée, that I wil serue this thy God & wil desire thy friēdship & remaine thy friend, for y^t thou hast opened my eies & giuen me the light of y^e true life. And for y^t I may the better bring to passe and accomplish this my determined purpose, I wil without tarrieng take my iourney to Constantinople, to y^e end to be instructed in y^e doc­trine of y^e faith, & vnderstand perfectly y^e power of thy god, not [Page] doubting but to haue the aide and helpe of the valiant Empe­rour thy Father, and by his meanes to be the better infor­med. And noble Prince I do desire thée to declare vnto Te­fereo my cousin and brothers sonne, all this my pretended purpose, and perswade him to leaue of this euil custome, and not continue in it anie longer. And moreouer to giue order vnto all his knights and Gentlemen, that they followe no more this wicked race, but commaund them to returne vnto theyr owne Countries, and to remaine there in the good go­uerning thereof, with his brother Tramarando. And the like words he spake vnto his owne knights that were there pre­sent at that time, and when the valiant knight of the Sunne heard these words, which procéeded from the Gyauntes heart without anye dissimulation, he receiued so great pleasure therein, that incontinent he threw his swoord to the ground, and pulled off his helme from his head, and ranne and caught the Gyant in his armes, and with great loue imbraced him, giuing him to vnderstand the great contentment that he re­ceiued to heare that he would forsake his false Gods, & turne to the true and liuing God, the author of all goodnesse. The Gyaunt when he sawe his face discouered, he much meruai­led to sée the great beautie of that Prince, and tooke him fast by the hande, and departed towardes the Castell, reasoning with him of diuerse matters by the waie, And when hée came to the Castell, he straight wayes commaunded that a shippe shoulde bée made in a readinesse with all kinde of furniture belonging to it, for that without anie delaie he would prose­cute his voyage, and so curing himselfe of the small wounds which he hadde, which did a little trouble him, he commaun­ded straight that they should bring him somwhat to eate, for that it was néedfull, as well for the great trauaile he had in the former battaile, as also for the losse of so much bloud which ranne out of his woundes. And when he hadde ea­ten and dined according to his desire, without anye more delaie or further resting himselfe he stayed not so much as to pull off his harnesse, but departed out of the Castell, and entered presently into the Shippe, and without taking [Page 37] anie farther leaue he commaunded to hoise vp the sayles, and caused the Marriners to direct theyr course towards Con­stantinople, leauing greate charge with the knight of the Sunne for to burie the bodie of Arcalanda, which he pro­mised to perfourme with all his heart. And straight waies he finished it, for in y^e same Chappell vnder the alter hée cau­sed her to be buried, and vppon her for a perpetuall memorie caused an Epitaph to bée written, as in the storie héereafter shall appeare. So this gyant béeing departed his iourney, the knight of the Sunne without anie more tarryeng asked where he might finde this Tefereo, and when he was infor­med of the place he tooke his iourney thetherwards, and left order with the people that there remained, that they shoulde not remoue nor departe till such time as he retourned a­gaine. So long he trauailed that daie that the night drew on, and towards his left hande he heard a greate rumor and noise of harnesse, whereat he tourned about that waie with Cornerino his horse, where we will leaue them, to tell you of all that which happened vnto the knight Don Eleno of Da­cia.

¶How the knight Eleno had battaile with Tefereo the Gyants cousin, and the successe that was therein, and how the Prince Eleno by a straunge aduenture was se­parated from his cousin and Tefereo. Chapter. 7.

AFter that this knight Don Eleno of Dacia was departed from the knight of the Sun, all that daie he trauailed without méeting of anie bodie, and when night approched it waxed so darke that he was constrained to withdrawe himselfe out of the high waie, and to repose himselfe in a fayre gréene fielde, where as hée let his horse féede of the grasse that did there growe, and he layde himselfe downe vnder a faire and gréene Wil­low, [Page] thinking ther to take his rest, but y^e place being solitarie was fitter to occupie his amorous mind w^t his old thoughts, and to call to remembrance things past, then for anye ease: neither was there any néere to giue comfort, or to bemone him, and calling to minde the aunswere which he had of the faire Florisdama, in such sort it afflicted his minde, that he remained a great while without anye memorie, but as one halfe dead, leaning against the body of a trée, that whosoeuer had séene him at that time, would rather haue iudged him dead than aliue. In the end he came againe to himselfe, and being somwhat eased with the teares that distilled from his eyes, of the griefe he had, he tooke his lute in his hand, which he alwaies carried with him for his comforte, and began to playe on it verie swéetely, and with his swéete voyce mixed with agréeable musick, he represented the dolor of his heart, and sung the sorowe of his subiection by loue, which song is contained in these verses following.

This dolorous Knight could not procéede forwards with this musicke begunne, by reason of a Damzell, which was in that place vnknowen vnto him, and therefore vnlooked for, who with a softe and milde voyce saluted him, and this Knight retourned hir againe the courtesie she offered. Then this Damosell right sorrowfully said. It doth well appeare sir Knight that thou doest not knowe howe néere thou art vnto the perill of death, considering that so with­out all care thou art publishing these thy passions of loue. Unto whom he aunswered and said.

‘I doo knowe verye well faire Ladie, that alwayes I [Page] beare about me a deadly perill. But alas, how can I helpe that, although this occasion hath brought me into such ex­tremitie, considering that it is so ordained. But to what end faire Damosell, you haue vttered these wordes, I am as yet altogether ignoraunt, wherefore I would be very glad to knowe somewhat, whereby I might haue occasion to for­get these thoughts, & to bring my selfe in care of some new defence. Then this Damosell drewe nigh to him and said, Thou shalt vnderstand sir Knight, that this Countrie in which thou art, is the olde and auncient Kingdome of Ti­nacria, whose happie dayes, which in times past it had, are now abated, and the great felicitie thereof is turned to con­fusion. Then this Damosell did relate vnto him, all the whole storie that you haue heard, which the olde Priest told vnto the Knight of the Sunne his Cousin: but the great sorrow that he receiued in the hearing of so great crueltie, constrained a fewe salt teares to fall from his eyes, from the which he could not refraine. And procéeding▪ forwardes in hir talke, she said, You shall vnderstand sir Knight, that I am a Damosell belonging to the Countesse of Modica, who is nowe in companie with the vertuous Quéene Garofilea, in the Citie of Sarragosa, héere in the lande of Tinacria, by whom I was sent about certaine businesse, and came nowe from thence.’ Uerely, the hearing of this terrible and heauie historie, did verie much cause this noble Knight to lament, & compelled his hart to earne, although on y^e cōtrarie he did re­ioyce very much, for that now in the beginning of his knight­hoode, he might imploie himselfe and his valiant courage in such terrible conflictes, whereby he might winne to him­selfe a renowmed name and reporte, if so it please God that he may goe forward with this enterprise. So he de­termined with himselfe, to loose his lyfe in this quarrell, or else to set the same Citie at libertie, although hée gaue not the Damosell to vnderstand anie thing concerning this his intent, who in the end of many good reasons and pittifull perswasions that shée vsed in coun [...]ailing and perswading this worthy knight Don Eleno for to haue very great care [Page 39] and to looke well vnto himselfe, that he did not fall into the handes of this cruell Giant, she tooke hir palfray and depar­ted hir way towards the Citie, to the ende that she might en­ter in at the gates before the daye did breake, whereby shee might not be discouered of the enimie. So this Damosell departed, and lefte the Knight in great anguish and sor [...]w [...] of minde, as well in thinking of the crueltie of this vncha­ritable Giant, as also, for that the night was so long that he could not put his determined purpose in vre, but in the end the gladsome daye appeared, at which time this worthye Knight perused his armour, and surely armed himselfe, and lased on his helme, and taking his horse, he rode the waye which led towards the Citie, béeing the same waye which the Damosell went. He had not ridden farre when he disco­uered the Citie, which was meruailously adorned with To­wers and fortresses, but yet round about it was to be séene a meruailous and dolorous spectacle of dead men and women torne in péeces, and others hanged by the necke vppon Iyb­bets hard by the walls, and some vpon trées which were in the field nigh at hand, which caused the Prince to stay, and to sigh with great sorrow and teares in the beholding of so inhumane crueltie, and in bitternesse of heart he said, ‘O Lord how wonderfull be thy secrets, y^t thou sufferest this Knight to vse so great crueltie without punishing of him, it cannot be without some great mysterie which thy diuine Maiestie doth pretend. I beseech thée (O Lorde) to giue me so much grace and strength, that I may cause this great crueltye to be taken away, and vtterly to cease. O noble Citie, I cannot iudge what anger fortune should receiue of thée, in y^t she con­senteth thou shouldest be subiect vnto such vnmercifull peo­ple, so much without pitie and compassion. Well, I maye say, that as Grecia may brag hir selfe of most excellent, wise & learned men which it hath brought vp, euen so maist thou complaine, that against thée hath bene fostered two terrible and abhominable tyrants. And in saieng these wordes: hee drew nigh the gates of the Citie, which for feare of the cru­eltie of the Giant, they kept shut, & taking hold at the ring [Page] therof he began to knock▪ which he had not so soone done, but y^e lifting vp his eyes, he beheld to descend from aboue out of a bulwarke a great frée stone which was cast downe by the hands of a Gentlewoman, which came so sodainly, that he al­most had no time to deliuer himselfe from receiuing the fall the [...]of, and if the lightnes of his horse had not ben the quic­ker, he must néedes haue taken the blowe on his head, which would not haue fallen out well with him.’ But when this Gentlewoman sawe that the stone fell downe without doing anie harme, with a gréeuous and terrible sigh that procéeded from her heart, she sayd.

‘Art thou that cursed Tefereo, through whose cause the most part of the mournfull matrones of this distressed Citie are made widowes, and with great affliction are inforced to bewaile the losse of their louing husbandes and welbeloued sonnes? Art thou he that doth not onely content thy selfe to kill them and teare them in péeces, but also hangest them be­fore our eyes, and garnishest the walls of this our vnhappie Citie with the bodies of them? Art thou that sonne of the di­uell, which without all feare of the Gods hath put our Citie in this extreame necessitie? Oh cruell tyrant, open the eyes of thy vnderstanding, and let some sparke of pittie reigne in thy heart, and suffer not that for thy cause onely so worthie a Countrie as this is should be destroied? Let it suffice thée y^t thou hast alreadie bene the occasion that all these noble ma­trones of this Citie, haue lost their rest & forgot their estate, and are nowe become as scowtes in the warres, and frame themselues to weare armour.’ This gentle knight of Dacia would not suffer her to procéede anie farther, but cut off her tale, and with greate sobernesse he sayd.

‘Gentlewoman, I am not he that you take me for, but I come hether rather (if so bée I maie) by some meanes to pro­cure your rest, & deliuer you from this outrage that is offe­red you. Then this gentlewoman with much more anger an­swered. O traitour, doest thou thinke that by thy treasons and subtiltyes to increase our care more then hetherto thou hast done? Get thée hence traitor, for thou art the most falle & [Page 40] cruell man in all the world, for thy naughtinesse we doo well vnderstand, and to all the world it is knowen▪ O immor­tall Gods, you doe well knowe that on the earth there is no strength sufficient to roote out this diuell and cursed tyrant from amongest vs? why do not one of you come down from heauen and confound him with your deitie. The good will which hath brought mée hether, gentle mistresse, aunswered Don Eleno, doeth not deserue to be thus ill intreated of you, who for to procure your libertie will put his life in aduen­ture. I suppose I doe deserue better enterteinement at your handes. Well, let it be what it will bée, sayd this Gentlewo­man, but touching thy comming into the Citie, it is laboure lost to speake, neuerthelesse if thou art not that cruell knight whom I did take thée for, turne thée about and looke towards the corner of yonder towre, which standeth amongest the gréene trees, and there thou shalt finde him, whom I doe be­leeue without séeking for thou bringest with thée, &’so with­out anie more speaking this Gentlewoman went from the wall, and left this knight alone. Then the Prince Don Ele­no séeing himselfe alone, tooke the waie which the Gentle­woman shewed him, wherein he had not trauailed farre, but in the middest of a groaue amongest a companie of gréene trées, he sawe a verie faire house and well wrought, where­vnto when he approched he found that the gates were shut and closed verie fast. And drawing nigh the gate, he tooke the ring in his hand and gaue a greate stroke, at the sounde whereof there looked a man out of a windowe of the same house, and by the riches of the armour that the Knight ware, he knew that he was none of their companie, but said vnto him.

‘Who art thou that art so hardie béeing a straunger, which without feare doest call at the gate, whereas thou canst not escape, but must of necessitie suffer death. Friend aunswered this Dacian Knight, goe thy wayes and tell thy Lorde Tefereo, that héere is a knight of a straunge Coun­trie that hath a great desire to speake with him.’This man without anie aunswering went awaie from the windowe, [Page] And not long after, there was another window opened more lower then the first, from whence there looked out a knight who seemed to be of a gentle disposition, his face somewhat swart of coulour, who with great curtesie said. Knight what is it that thou wouldest haue, for I am he whom thou doest séeke for: that which I would haue aunswered Don Eleno, is, that thou doest leaue this diuellish custome which thou doest héere maintaine, for that a knight of thy disposition and manner shuld rather occupie himselfe in breaking these euill customes, then in maintaining them, for these be not works of a knight the which thou doest, but of an infernall diuell, I therfore much maruell how thou vsing so much crueltie, thou doest liue with so great ease and without care. Come therefore thou tyrant and arme thy selfe, and I hope thou shalt héere paie the tribute of all these euills which thou hast done, for it is not reason that so diuellish and cruell a man as thou art shouldest liue. These reasons did little trouble this Gyant, neyther made hée anie reckoning of them, but with his accustomed sobrietie, he answered.

Miserable knight, thou doest not knowe how héere thou doest seeke thy owne death in demaunding battaile of mée, therefore returne againe the waie thou camest, for thy te [...]der age and smooth face without a bearde doth moue me to vse this my vertue and curtesie with thée, and considering that thou art a straunger and not of this Countrie. Then this Dacian knight aunswered. It is not this that I doe séeke, but to accomplish this which I haue tolde thée, and if my wordes are not sufficient to cause thée to leaue this which thou doest exercise, I do beléeue that my swoord will ere long compell thée thereto, for either I will die the death or else I will depriue thy bodie of that dampnable and accursed soule, and send it whether as thou hast sent manie a better then thine is. To these wordes this Tefereo aunswered nothing at all, but withdrewe himselfe in great hast from the win­dowe, and called for his armour, the which was all blacke, and of a verie faire and straunge making, he was with a trice armed, and being on horse backe, the great and princely Pal­laice [Page 41] gate was opened, whereat issued out this Sardenian with a gentle and demure countenaunce, and after him fol­lowed a page with two speares in his hand, of the which Te­fereo tooke the one, and sent vnto the Prince the other, who standing in néede accepted it, and without farther reasoning they turned their horses about with such courage and quick­nesse, that the lyke hath béene seldome séene betwéene two knights. And when each of them wer come into their appoin­ted place, they set spurres to their horses with as great force as the thunder in the aire, and méeting together in the midde way with their speares, their shockes were so terrible that it was wonder to sée, so that not one of them failed of his blow, but ioyned in such sort, that the staues (although they were verie strong) brake, and the shéeuers of them separated them­selues in the aire with great violence, and yet the valyaunt knights both remained in their saddles, no more mooued then a rocke by the sea side. But when either of them behelde the little harme they had done in this their iust, they both with their swordes in their handes returned their horses, and be­gan to strike so extreamly the one vppon the other, that their bodies felt the force of their armes, and although their har­nesse was not cut, yet it could not be but their flesh shuld re­ceiue damage. In this sort trauailed these two knights more then an houre, without knowledge of anie aduauntage, but either of them were inflamed with anger to sée his aduersa­rie to indure so long, and the knightly courage of each of them did more and more increase, and their excéeding cholar was such, that the battaile began to be more terrible then at the first. But this furious Tefereo somewhat féeling, and therefore by experience knowing the surpassing strength and valiant courage of his enimie, although he did not greatlye meruaile at it, yet it did cause him to be more furious, and béeing incensed in such sorte, that with both his handes hée tooke his swoord, and strake at him such a stroke vppon the helme, y^t the blowe sounded through all the fields, & made an ecko in the mountaines, that by y^e waight thereof the Dacian knight was constrained somwhat to incline his head down­warde [Page] and remained a while without his remembrance, but his horse being scarred with that terrible stroke, gaue a great leape towards the one side, by the which he deliuered his master from the seconde blowe, which Tefereo thought to haue bestowed on him. The Dacian Knight being againe re­couered, and not a little abashed at this blowe, setteled him­selfe in his saddle, and throwing his shield from him to the ground, he tooke his sword fast in his hand, and stroke Te­fereo so terribly vpon his helme, with his sword some what flatling, (by reason whereof, the force of the blow somwhat abated, it slid downe vpon his lefte shoulder,) that it con­strained him to stoupe forwards with all his bodie, and if he had not clasped his armes about his horse necke, hée had fallen downe to the ground, and with the force of this great blowe, the horse was constrained also to boow his fore féete, who with a sodaine and furious force rose vp again: wherat this noble Dacian warriour, with great hast pricked his horse with the spurres, pretending to make an ende of this cruell battaile with his second blowe: but it fell out con­trarie, for that Tefereo comming againe to himselfe, as fierce as a Lion, thrust forwards against his aduersarie, pro­curing (if it passed not his power) to repay againe with inte­rest, that which he had receiued. Now héere began a newe their battaile, and their forces multiplied in such furious sort, that all the mountaines and valleyes, were occupyed with the noyse of their terrible strokes. The courage was so great of these two Knights, y^t many times they lost theyr wits, with the weight of the terrible raps which they recei­ued one of another. Then this Prince Don Eleno sayde to himselfe, that if all the rest of the Knights with whome hée shoulde haue battaile, were of no lesse prowesse then this present Knight, that he feared quickly to be disgraced: and on the other side, Tefereo found himselfe very sore troubled, and saw that he was in so great distresse, began to inuocate vpon his Gods for aid. The prowes, strength, & pollicie was such betwéene these two Princes, y^t whosoeuer had ben pre­sent to haue beheld y^e same, wold haue said, y^t there was be­twéen [Page 42] them expressed, all y^e knighthood in y^e world: for it was wonderfull to sée, how somtimes they pressed forwards, and presently retired backwards, as wel to bestow as to auoyde their terrible strokes. It was ful thrée houres, y^t these noble knights thus contended together, & yet there appeared not in them any kind of faintnes, but by their behauior, ther strēgth séemed stil more and more to encrease. Then this heroycall Dacian not accustomed to find such resistance, began to for­get al patience, & as one ouercome w^t anger clasped his sword fast in his hand, & being setled in his sadle, he stroke y^e giant so hard in y^e midst of the helme, y^t with y^e heuines of y^e blow, he was forced to fall backwards vpon y^e crupper of his horse without any remēbrance, & with y^e great strengh the Prince put to this blow, his sword flew out of his hand, & hanged by the wrist band, which while he recouered, Tefereo returned to himselfe, and with outragious anger (prouoked by y^e great paine he felt) with both his hands he strake such a blow vn­looked for at Don Eleno with the halfe swoord vpon the vi­sour, in such furious sort, that it bereaued him of his sight, & glauncing wise it descended downe vpon the head péece of the horse, but by reason of y^e first blow y^e last had small strength, so y^t it did but little harme, notwithstanding it amazed the horse in such sort, y^t with his staggering the Prince was con­strained to vse pollicie to kéep himselfe from falling from his backe, but when his horse was recouered, he returned a­gaine, so inflamed with anger as though sparks of fire had is­sued out of his mouth, & crushing his téeth together, he vtte­red these words. ‘O thou infernal diuel, is it possible, y^t by thy strēgth so euil bestowed on thée, thou shuldst in y^e beginning of my knighthood, put me in daunger to be ouercome, by one only blow, I protest by y^e honor y^t I owe vnto y^e progeny frō whēce I procéed, y^t if by this one blow I bring thée not to the point of death or ouercome thée, y^t I will neuer weare armor more against knight,’ & so with great rage he returned against his aduersary, y^t he did not only feare him, but if ther had ben there a whole army of men, considering his fury, they would haue ben afraid, & pressing forwards y^e prince raised himselfe [Page] in his stirrops, and stroke the Giant so terrible and wonder­full a blowe, that the bloud gushed out of his nose & mouth, and therewith he fell to the ground as though he had bene dead. He was no sooner downe, but with great lightnesse the Dacian Knight leapt from his horse, and stept to the Giant to vnlace his healme, which while hée was a dooing, hée heard a voyce which sayd, Doo not kill him knight, doo not kill him, and tourning his head about to sée who it was that so disturbed him, he perceiued it to be his cousin the Knight of the Sunne. (This was the great noyse of harnesse, that the Knight of the Sunne heard towards his left hand, as be­fore I haue tolde you.) So when Don Eleno had pulled of the Gyaunts helme, he withdrew himselfe apart, and his co­sin alighted from his horse, and presently came and imbra­ced him with excéeding ioye, and no little loue, which the more increased, when he considered that the Knight which should vanquish so great a Giant, could not be but of great valour, as it appeared by that furious blowe, by which the Giaunt was meruailously martyred: for the astonishment was such, that in a great while after Tefereo could not reco­uer himselfe, till such time as they brought water from the house which was hard by, and threw it in his face, by which meanes, he came to his remembraunce, and séeing himselfe in such a pickle, and the sworde of his conquerour prepared for his death, I doo referre vnto your iudgemens, what such a valiant Knight should thereof conceiue, and with a verye great and sad sigh he said.

‘Oh thou that hast robbed me of my surmounted honor, content thy selfe to inioye this my great and high glorie, and suffer me not to sustaine any farther shame in sauing of my lyfe, with the inioying of which, I shall neuer héereafter re­ceiue ioye, but euerie daye, yea, euery houre thereof, will re­present vnto me a thousand deaths, in remembring that one arme hath hadde so much strength as to bereaue me of that which so many with all their forces, haue not had power to maintaine themselues against. I knowe not wherefor thou detractest time, make an ende of me, for that thou hast had [Page 43] so much power to ouercome me,) I earnestly desire thée. And neuer think that thou shal [...] be Lord of the thing which thou hast ouercome: for otherwise I will not yéeld my selfe, but onely to death. For they may account him onely conquered, which hauing strength to defend, submitteth himselfe vnto the mercie of his enimie. Therefore gentle Knight I doo be­séech thée, not to shewe any pittie towards me, but to finish with my death this tragicall triumph which fortune & time hath now bestowed on thée.’ These two Knights and Cou­sins were very attentiue to the words that this mightie pa­gan vttered, and liked excéedingly of hi [...] reasonings, and in reply, Don Eleno aunswered, ‘Although that Fortune, (naye rather God) thus in the beginning of my glorie, hath giuen me this victorie, and libertie therewith either to extend cru­eltie or clemencie, yet both [...]or thy words which touch mée to the heart, and for thy prowesse, which I so much estéeme, I protest vnto thée, I wish rather neuer to haue ben borne▪ then willingly vpon thée to execute this extremitie, conside­ring what a blot it is vnto noble Knights, to haue the name of tyrants, for that it depriueth them of all the honor & glo­rie, that strong armes can any way atchieue. Therefore knowe worthy Knight, that the royall bloud of Dacia desi­reth not the death of Tefereo, neither was it my request to haue thee ouercome, but onely to haue thée conuerted from thy cruell conditions, to the ende that I might enioye thy friendship.’Then the valiant Knight of the Sunne did cut off their talke, to the ende he might declare vnto them, all that happened with the other Giaunt. Which when Te­fereo heard he was sore abashed, and with great sobrietie he saide: Well, séeing it is so, that the flower of all Knighthood and the glorie of armes, is possessed by you and your kinred, I vowe that from this daye forwards, I will not remain a­ny longer my owne, but nominate my selfe as onely yours, and in deliuering these spéeches, in the best manner be might he arose vp from the ground, and with great loue imbraced them both. And after salutations ended, they entered altoge­ther into the Pallaice, whereas they remained all y^• night, [Page] for to repose themselues, considering the greate trauaile and paine which they had passed. The next day in the mor­ning, although they hadde more néede to haue taken greater rest, yet there altogether they mounted on their horse backs, and tooke the way that lead them to Saragosa pretending to enter within the Citie, and there with all humilite to craue pardon for all the iniurie that was past: but their trauayle was all in vaine, for that before time they of the towne, ha­uing had sufficient triall of Tefereos crueltie, would not by any meanes open the gates, alwayes beleeuing the lamenta­ble spectacle before their eyes, and therefore fearing that they would deceiue them. So that when these noble knights per­ceiued it was labour lost to stand long in contention, these people (though then causelesse) being so incredible, they re­turned backe againe towards the Castle: and all the way they went, being almost by the sea side, these two Cousins sawe their ship comming towardes them in great hast, and staieng their horses, they saw, that she was fast at y^e waters side.

The knight of the Sunne perceiuing well, that hir com­ming thether was for no other cause but to inuite them to come aboord hir, which Eleno and Tefereo condescending vn­to, they presently did: and sent word by a page of Tefereos to commaund all those of Sardenna that they should set at li­bertie all the Countrie, and without farther delaye retourne vnto their owne houses. These worthie Knights were no sooner entred into their Shippe, but she beganne presentlye to spread her Sayles, and shoouing from shoare, in great hast shée launched in to the maine Sea, wherein with prosperous windes they sailed two dayes, but the thirde daye verie earlye in the morning, they discouered a Gal­ley, gouerned with sixe Oares on a side, which came ro­wing towardes them, and béeing ioyned together, they behelde that ther was in the same a verie faire Ladie, whose haire of hir head was dispersed abroad, and hir selfe very ill intreated by an vncourteous Knight. This sad and distressed Lady with a sorrowfull voyce and pitifull lamentation, cry­ed [Page 44] out for succour vnto the heauens: at whose complaintes and vncourteous handling, these Princes receiued great an­ger. The valiant Dacian Don Eleno being in all poyntes prepared to fight, layd fast holde on his sword, and with great lightnesse leaped into the galley, into the which he was not so soone entered, but that these two vessells were loose, and voyded the one from the other, so that not one of his other friends had time to followe him, & the swiftnesse was such in the departure, that in a small time either of them lost the sight of the other.

By reason of many accidents, which are to be accounted in this historie, it is conuenient I imitate the good musition, who to content all those, which attend to heare his melodie, chaungeth into many tunes: therefore now we will leaue these thrée knights, and retourne vnto the Emperour, to de­clare such things as chaunced in his Court.

¶By what aduenture Floramonte was deliuered from the perill he was in, and how the Princesse Clari­diana was deliuered of childe, and howe shee was comforted in all hir trouble by the wise Artemi­doro. Chapter. 8.

WIth great ioye and contentment departed the Pagans, that carryed away the In [...]ant Flo­ramonte, vnderstanding that Fortune hadde greatly fauoured them, to bestowe on them so good a price. Wherefore with great hast they got themselues to the Sea. Wherein they had not trauayled long, but that vppon a sodaine they discouered a shippe, which was comming towards them, all blacke, and out of it procéeded verie fearefull and wonder­full lightenings, accompanied lykewise with terrible▪ Thun­der, seeming by the force thereof that the heauen opened: and when the shippe drew nigh vnto the Gallie of the Pagans, [Page] it was presently couered with the thicke and terrible lighte­nings, in such sort, that it depriued all them that were there­in of their sight, and with the great feare that they receiued, they fell flat downe vppon the floore in the Gallie. And when they came againe to themselues they looked about to sée if they coulde perceiue what it should be. And then they coulde not finde the infant Floramonte, for whose losse they lamented greatly. You shall vnderstand that the wise Lyrgandeo by his learning had deliuered the infant from them to kéepe him close and in secret, for that he vnderstood by his art of y^e great warres that was pretended and made redie for in Grecia, in the which warres shoulde be slaine the flower of all knight­hoode, and that it should be in greate daunger to be lost and vtterly destroied. Also he did comprehend by his learning to knowe how this infant and one other that was then begot­ten (but not yet borne) should be the greatest help & chiefe of this victorie, comming by chaunce to the end of the conquest, likewise he did knowe that if this childe should at anie time before this aduenture vse armour, that he should be put in great perill of death. This was the onely occasion that hée set him at libertie as you haue heard, and did inchaunt him in such sorte, that none other could cléere him of it, but onely he which should be his companion and aide in the greate ne­cessitie of these warres: which was the sonne of the heroicall knight of the Sunne, and of the Empresse Claridiana, of whome thou shalt heare héereafter. Thus this wise Lyr­gandeo hauing deliuered this childe that none in all the Court knewe of it, retourned thether againe, and from that daye forwardes kept it secrete to himselfe, not suffering a­nie to vnderstande thereof, nor of anie other thing that hée foreknew in his heart by learning. All those of the Court were verye sadde, for that the Emperour was so sorrow­full, forasmuch as hée coulde heare no newes of his sonnes, as I haue before tolde you, determined after hée hadde en­ded the hunting, to retourne backe againe to the Citie. And in the way as they shuld go, they discouered comming towardes them a Wagon, which did represent much do­lor, [Page 45] (and this was that which Rosicleer did finde,) and there they remained to sée what it shoulde bée, and when the Wagon drewe néere where the Emperour was, they lyf­ted vp a cloth wherewith the wagon was couered, and out of the wagon there issued a Ladie, who lead a maiden childe by the hande, all couered with mourning apparell, which did represent great sorrowe, and of so meruailous beautie, as it was to bée wondered at. This Ladie when shée vn­derstoode which was the Emperour, shée knéeled downe at his feete, and with sundrie sorrowfull sighes, shée lamentably sayd.

‘Considering that all distressed women and oppressed damzells, forasmuch as they are women and of the weaker sort, doo finde in thée (Oh souereigne Emperour) succour and defence, what shoulde those that descende from noble and royall estate hope for at thy gracious handes? Among which number this which doth present her selfe before thée, is ney­ther the least in birth, though nowe one in most miserie, for redresse whereof she craueth thy aide and defence. Thou shalt vnderstand O souereigne Emperour, that this childe is right heire apparant vnto all the kingdome of Lyra, of which she hath béen dispossessed by meruailous great violence.’ The Emperour when he heard that this was the Quéene of Lira, he did reuerence her, and tooke her by the hande, and caused her to stand vp, and embraced her with excéeding shewe of loue, & offred vnto her his person and all his power at com­maundement for her helpe & succour. Then the Lady would haue kissed his hands, but the Emperour would not consent therevnto by anie meanes, but tooke his horse to procéede for­wards on his iourney, & for curtesies sake tooke vp the young quéene behinde him on horse backe, and the Emperour Ali­candro tooke also the other Ladie. In this guise they returned vnto the Citie, for to put in order all thinges for the depar­ting of the Emperour Alicandro, & riding by the way the em­perour Trebatio demaunded of the Ladie the cause of her cō ­ming to the court, the which she did declare vnto him, not let­ting in her tale to shew by shedding of salt teares from her [Page] eies, the sorrow that in heart she conceiued, and in this wise she answered.‘High & mightie Emperour, in the kingdome of Lyra not long time since raigned the father of this young Quéene, in so greate prosperitie and fame, that he was not onely honoured of his owne subiectes, but also feared of the borderers thereabout. Nigh vnto this kingdome there is an Iland called Roca [...]or, which beareth this name for the great strength it hath, as well in the buildings with Castells and townes, as by the inhabitaunts of the same, who are verye strong, of the which Iland was Lord and gouernour a Gy­ant of a meruailous huge and mightie bignesse, beeing also proude and of verie ill conditions, who hath a son of a more greater stature and fiercenesse then himselfe, such a one as I beléeue hath not his like in all the world, and for that he had this vauntage ouer and aboue all other, it seemed vnto his Father, that there was none so conuenient in marriage for his sonne as was this Damzell, daughter vnto this aforena­med king, and heire vnto the kingdome. And thus béeing wholy determined, he sent messengers vnto the king to de­maund his daughter in marriage for his sonne, but the king made them answere verie rigorously, (and although the Gi­ants are greatly feared; yet the power of this king was such that he didde estéeme them but little.) But when the Gy­aunts Bulfar and Mandroco (for so were they called) did per­ceiue with what disdaine the king aunswered them, they were readie to burst with anger, neuerthelesse Mandroco gaue counsell vnto his Father, saying: That he alone was constrained héerein to returne for his honour and no other, and that it touched him to make aunswere vnto them, and that he woulde neuer be accounted to be his sonne if he did not wholy reuenge himselfe. Then Bulfar who well knewe the greate strength of his sonne, verie much reioyced to heare those his reasons which he vttered, & commaunded straight waies that it should be put in vre: and so with f [...]ll determi­nation in as secret manner as they possiblie might, they ga­thered together fiue hundred of y^e most valiantest knightes y^t were in all the Iland, which were almost all of their affini­tie, [Page 46] with y^t which knights verie secretly they ariued vnknow­en in the land of Lyra, and verie closely in the beginning of the night, two miles from the citie, they put themselues into a little groue that was nigh at hand, whereas they remained vnespied two parts of the night, then vpon a sodeine when y^e people were all at rest, and little suspecting anie such sodeine misfortune, they entered the citie & neuer rested till such time as they came to the kings pallace, at which entrie & first en­counter the king himselfe was slaine, by a cruell blowe that Mandroco stroke him on his head, as you may beholde héere where the bodie lyeth on a Beere within the wagon. This Bulfar made such destruction in the entering of the pallace, that in a small time he possessed it for his, and so descending through the citie, by reason y^t those knights which he brought with him were of great power and strength. And againe, that those of the citie were vnprouided of all defence, with verie little a do he ouercame them all and brought them vnder his subiection, by compelling them to yéeld: So I a miserable wo­man more then halfe dead in beholding so great damage d [...]n [...] by a false doore that belonged to y^e pallace, I went out, where­as escaped also many of the kings knights y^t were taken on a sodeine: so I tooke my way forwards and came to Hircania, for that the king therof was my brothers sonne, & cosin vnto this Princesse, who receiued vs verie well, & was not a little sorrowfull for our misfortune. From which place we sent to demaunde of the Gyaunt to surrender vnto vs, that which with great violence he hadde vsurped, and aunswere was retourned, that they woulde not dooe it, except this young Quéene shoulde first marrie with Mandroco, to the which we woulde not consent for that he was so deformed. So séeing his determined purpose, wée sent once agayne, demaunding whether he woulde giue vs the bodie of the dead king, to the which they did straight wayes graunt. And Mandroco sent vs worde, that forsomuch as wée woulde not consent vnto that which he did require vs, ten­ding to our owne quietnesse, to the ende we shoulde vnder­stand how little it was that hée did estéeme of vs, hee swore [Page] with a solempne oath neuer to depart out of the Kingdome, for the space of two yeares, with condition, that in this time we should seeke two Knights, who by their great force and chiualrie, should ouercome his father and him in the fielde, and then they would depart the lande, and retourne to their owne Countrie. And contrariwise if we did not procure, to bring these two knightes to the battaile, or els to delyuer vnto them this Ladie within that prefixed time, that Man­droco, might mary with hir, that then they would fully pos­sesse themselues of all the kingdome, and fortifie themselues in such sort, that all agréement notwithstanding, we should neuer retourne to Lyra againe. And so vnderstanding their imbassage, I determined to come to this Court, whereas I doo vnderstand is all the prowesse, and flower of Knight­hoode in the world. So héere I present my selfe (noble Em­perour) before you and all your Knights, in asking fauour and requesting helpe to reuenge vs of so great wrong, as we haue receiued:’ and thus she finished hir talke, and with great wéeping, she held her peace.

This noble Emperor receiued very great sorow & griefe to heare this lamentable tale that the Ladie tolde, and to see that faire young Damzel so dispossessed of her right by such extreame tyrannie, and with a milde countenaunce he aun­swered.‘Noble Dutchesse, since that thy good fortune (though the efficient cause thereof be to too badde) hath brought thée there▪ where with all good will ye shall receiue succour and comfort, I request you to take your rest, and be quyet, and leaue of this your mourning. And although ther be knights in this my court, that are able to comprehend such enterpri­ses, by their great prowesse and strength: yet I do looke euery day for them, to whom I may commend greater affayres to be done then these, wherfore rest you a while till two doo come, of whom I haue more dominion ouer, & to them will I commit this charge.’ There were many knightes pre­sent that would very faine haue offered themselues to this enterprise, but hearing the pretence of the Emperour, they durst not in anie wise attempt it, but kept silence.

[Page 47]Then this dutchesse began to tell them of all the successe that happened vnto her knightes by the knight of Cupide. Unto whome the Emperour sayde: that knight is one of them to whome I will commit the charge of your combat, and I am right gladde that the seruice he shall doe you in this enter­prise shall bée the occasion that you shall forget this anger that you haue against him. So with these and like reasons they drew néere the Citie, whereas straight waie they be­gan to prepare all things in a readinesse for the departing of the Emperour Alicandro, and in a short time all things bée­ing prouided, this Emperour béeing also readie with a verie good will entered the ship, and carrying with him the Prince Meridiano, and his welbeloued spouse, and the Troyan Ori­stedes, he taking leaue of the Emperour with a better counte­naunce then his heart would consent vnto, committed the sailes vnto the winde, and with a prosperous voyage they went a land at Tenedon, whereas we will leaue them, for to tell you what chaunced vnto the Empresse Claridiana, who was verie sadde for the absence of her spouse, and likewise to sée her selfe so great with childe, (although in the great hall she continually shewed a merrie countenaunce.) So it happe­ned one daie being in conuersation with the Empresse, and the quéene Lira, there entered into the great hall the worthie Prince Clauerindo, all armed with his accustomed harnesse, and leading by the hande a verie faire Damosell, all appa­relled in blacke veluet, and after her there came other nine faire Damosells, all apparelled after the same manner. This Damosell if you doo remember is shée, whose kéeper Rosicleer did kill, which was the Prince of Mesopotamia, & y^e knight which came to her at her complaint & sorrow, was Clauerindo, who in greate secret followed the knight of the Sunne, and because of the great confidence that he had in the friendship of Zoylo, he promised her fauour & succour: for the which this faire Ladie who was daughter vnto the king of Tiglia, came in this order as you shall heare. In the meane time that all this happened, there chaunced a thing of verie greate admiration, which was, that the Tartarian béeing [Page] at that time in the hall as the Damzell entered, hée made a great noise without anie more tarrieng, neither was there a­nie that could stay him, were he neuer so strong, but running forwardes as a man distraught, hée went out of the Pal­laice. The sorrowfull Ladie séeing this, fell downe to the grounde as though shée had béene dead. And Clauerindo be­holding the ingratitude of this Tartarian, woulde haue fol­lowed him, but the wise Lyrgandeo stayed him and woulde not suffer him to goe, saying: They should let him alone, for that all they shoulde procure to followe him should bée in vaine. And so retourning vnto the Ladie he practised such remedyes, that verie quickly shee retourned to her selfe a­gaine, and then promised her such remedies, as shoulde in the ende restore her to rest. And when the Barbarian Ladie did knowe who he was, she did meruailouslie reioyce. So this Tartarian went to the sea side, and with great diligence im­barked himselfe in a shippe that was there readie fraughted for Spaine, which he did in such great hast and diligence, that before Bargandel and Lyriamandro could tourne themselues, the shippe had hoised saile, and yéelded her selfe vnto the winde, the which was the occasion that these two did the like in taking another ship, who sailed after the first, with de­termined purpose, with all their powers to procure that this Tartarian should returne againe, whome we will leaue now sayling on their voyage, for it is necessarie for our hi­storie to relate other matters in this Chapter. Let vs re­turne therefore to the Emperours court. The Empresse Cla­ridiana séeing her time at hand to be deliuered with childe, was verie sadde, and knew not what to doe, but in the ende of many thoughts she determined to decypher all her secret vnto a maide she had who was called Arcana, to whō she did disclose all the secrets of her heart. This Arcana séeing the great friendship and curtesie that the princesse shewed her, in opening her secrets more to her then to anie other, and had a more trust in her then in the rest, kissed her roiall hands, and promised her to be no lesse secret then dilligent in all her af­faires. [Page 48] So they determined betwéene themselues and did pro­uide as it was best for their purpose, to bée continuallye a­lone and without anie companie, but that which did most trouble and gaue greatest care vnto the Empresse Claridia­na, was, for that shée did not knowe to whome to giue the charge of nursing that, which shoulde be borne of her, yet the maiden who was verie wise, subtil, and discréet, had ordained all things in good order, for she had in great secret disclosed it vnto a verie honest matrone of the citie, saieng, that she was the partie that should be deliuered, and gaue vnto her verye largely of gifts and iewells, with promises of a farther bene­fite for to keepe her counsell therein. It was not long after when that with great paine and griefe this noble Princesse was deliuered of a verie faire sonne & daughter, béeing of so great beautie that it was wonderfull to bée séene. The sonne had vnder his left side a meruailous & verie strange marke, which was a speare of such a firie prospect that it made them afraid to touch it. The Empresse tooke thē both in her armes and with many bitter teares she blessed them, and returned them againe vnto Arcana, willing her that she should dresse them, and put all things in order to send them to the nurse, the which she did with great diligence, wrapping and swadde­ling them vp in very faire and rich clothes, according to the best guise that she could, although she wer but little acquain­ted in such like matters. She had not scantly made an end of swaddeling them, when that vppon a sodaine with a greate rumour, as it séemed vnto the Empresse and Arcana, one of the walles of the chamber where they were did open, where­at did enter a Serpent, verie horrible and fearefull to be­holde, from whome there procéeded greate flames and sparkes of fire, who stayed not, but went straight vnto the place whereas the two little Infantes were, and at two mouthfulles hée swallowed them cleane vp, and so with­out dooing anie more harme or making anie longer tarry­ing retourned out of the Chamber the selfe same waye that it came in, leauing the Empresse in so greate feare, as in such cases is required.

[Page]And being in this great traunce she looked towards y^• place, where the Serpent went out, and she sawe enter in thereat an olde man, which came with a staffe in his hande, whom straight waie she knew very well to be the wise Artemido­ro, who with great courtesie saluted the Empresse saieng: ‘Madame, take you neither care, paine, nor griefe of y^t which is done, neither trouble your selfe for your children, for that there coulde be no more done, then that which is done: for all is conuenient and necessarie for the establish­ing both of yours and their good fortune. And more I doo certefie you, that the time should come, wherein you shall re­ceiue more ioye and comfort, then nowe it dooth cause anguish and sorrowe.’ And thus without anie more reaso­ning he returned and went out againe at the place whereat he entered, and he was not so soone out, but that the wall clo­sed againe as euen as it was before, and no signe of opening could be séene. After that he was departed the empresse & her mayde remained reasoning and meruailing at this sodaine and strange case, & after they had considered of many things, they determined betwéene themselues to kéepe all verye se­cret, till that by opportunitie were offered them, what they should doo.

The Prince Brandimardo of whom I told you of, was so inflamed with the fire of Cupide, whch kindled in him tho­rough y^e loue of the young quéene of Lyra, whose name was Ardisilora, y^t he could finde in himselfe neither rest nor ioy, & his passions were not so secret, but that this young quéene did perceiue them, & spared not to repaye him againe with a kind of honest and single loue. Of whom we meane to de­clare more in the processe of this historie, and of their won­derfull acts which they did: for you shall vnderstande, that this young Quéene, being a horsebacke and armed in hir ar­mour, proued another Claridiana, as shal be rehearsed in that furious battaile betwéene the Greekes & Africans. And you shall moreouer marke, that all that you haue hearde in the processe of this chapter, was ordained by the wise men, which I onely note, for that those which shall reade the same, maye [Page 49] the better vnderstand the historie.

¶How that when the King of Hungarie was taking his leaue to depart, there came a Giant, hauing a cru­ell and furious countenaunce, who defied the Em­perour and his sonnes, and of all that chanced ther­in. Cap. 9.

THE king of Hungarie séeing y^t it was time for him to returne to his owne Countrie, it happened one daie being in companie with the Emperour his sonne in lawe, he said vn­to him:‘My louing sonne, I woulde verie faine before my departure (if it were possi­ble) that my sonne were come, to the ende I might haue him with mée, séeing that my Nephewes doe not come, but sith their tarrying is so long, I must be content to take patience, and [...] theyr companies retourne home into my owne Countrie, least peraduenture this my long absence be cause of some insurrection or commotion.’ The Emperour woulde verie faine haue aunswered him, but vpon a sodeine and vn­looked for, there was raysed a great rumour amongest them that at that present were in the Pallaice, and demaunding what was the occasion of such sodeine alteration, they sawe entering in at the gate a verie great and mightie Gyaunt, of more then sixtéene cubites high, of strong bodie, and double the bignesse of anie other ordinarie man, he was armed with verie strong and rich armour, and he carried vpon his shoul­der a great and heauie Mase, and at his girdle a verie fayre & broad sword, and without doing reuerence or shewing anie kinde of curtesie, but with a proude and arrogant voice hée asked: ‘Which amongest you is that false and trecherous Rosicleer, sonne vnto the traiterous Emperour Trebatio?’All that were there present (were not a little amazed, as well in beholding the huge greatnesse and straunge forme of the gi­aunt, as also of his great pride and boldnesse in his wordes) aunswered him not a worde. Then the Emperour, as one [Page] vnto whom it most belonged to make aunswere▪ with great sobrietie and wisedome, as in such like matters he was accu­stomed to vse, replyed. ‘Graunt, Rosicleer at this present is not in the Court, for the which I am verie sorrie and conceiue great griefe, for I am sure if he were héere present, he would soone tame and bring downe this thy great pride, and mitti­ [...]ate thy mallice, and soone abate this thy vnreasonable bold enterprise, which thou hast attempted.’ ‘And in that thou doo­est saie that I am a traitour, I answere that thou dost false­ly lye, like a naughtie and ill taught knight, for I neuer vsed treson towards anie man, neither would I at anie time consent therevnto, but I haue procured to the vttermost of my power to punish it. When the Gyant heard this aunswere, béeing more kindeled with rage, hée saide. Emperour, thy wordes bée spoken verie fondly and without feare, as the Cocke vpon his owne dunghill, héere thou séest me mightie and strong, insomuch that béeing in thy Countrie I doo make thée quake, and more I would doe [...] thou [...] a [...]roade. Thou great beast and deformed creature, replyed the Empe­rour, for that thou shalt vnderstand how little héere in Gre­cia we esteeme such monsters as thou art, tarie a while, for in place of my sonnes, because they are not present for to giue thee thy payment according vnto thy deserte, in me beeing their father, thou shalt finde such resistaunce, that I hope by the fauour and helpe of almightie God, to take that diuellish and infernall head from thy accursed shoulders.’ So the Em­perour in great hast with a knightly courage called for his armour. This Gyant séeing the disposition and prowesse of the Emperour to be so valiaunt, with a great crie he sayde. O yee feminine Gods, is it possible that your deitie doth con­sent, that alonely one man is so hardie & couragious to enter into the field with me. Emperour, take to thée one hundreth of y^e best knights y^u hast about thée & come, for altogether I wil cut you in peeces, for y^t my gods will not permit y^t he in whō al their power consisteth shuld haue battel w^t one knight, & in saying these words, he did shew the great pride y^t rested in his heart. Héere you may iudge in what perplexitie y^e Empresse [Page 50] and all her Ladies were in, to sée so ill fauoured a monster before them, I promise you they were all in a manner with­out remembraunce and cleane beside themselues, but Clari­diana neuer moued hir countenaunce, but was verye quiet. In this meane time while the Emperour was arming him selfe with as greate hast as he might, the fierce Gyaunt which burned in anger, thought that the Emperour tarryed verie long and sayd: What doest thou Emperour? why doest thou not cause thy knightes to arme themselues as I haue willed thée, for that both of thy selfe & them I pretend [...]o end the weake dayes, and in saying these wordes he went vnto the place whereas the Emperour was arming himselfe, there the Empresse Claridiana put her selfe before him, and stroke the Gyant such a blow on the breast with both her hands w^t so great anger, that she made him to withdrawe backwards, and in the end was forced to fall, and she sayd: Thou diuel­lish beast, what thinkest thou in thy heart to doe, and what is thy pretended purpose? and séeing the gyant in so great fu­rie, she cried out and sayde: Oh holie God deliuer these thy knightes from all euill, for he arose vp with such ire from y^e ground, that a great mountaine had not ben able to make a­nie resistance against him, if it had not happened, that in the same extremitie there entred into the hall that gentle & vali­ant giant y^e king of Sardenia, who vnderstāding y^e contempt of y^e other gyant, & how much he had misused y^e emperor with his proud spéeches in the hall, he was very greatly incensed, & y^t the emperour shuld vnderstand y^e great loue y^t he bare vnto his sonne, y^e knight of y^e Sun, like a furious lyon he attempted the battell before the Emperour could be ready to make y^• as­sault, & lifting vp a great club which he had in his hand, hee said: O thou foule dissignred monster, far more proud thē ap­perteineth to y^e order of knighthood: first before thou approuest thy strength with anie other, thou shalt féele the force of me. The great disdaine that was in this gyant whose name was Bust [...]afo ▪ arg [...] y^t he l [...]tle estéemed y^e other, but w^tout replying any answere, they began to flourish with their great & migh­tie Mases, that the greate noise of the Emperour, neyther [Page] the shrikes of the Empresse and her Ladies, woulde suffice to make them withdrawe themselues y^e one from the other, but terribly they let fall their heauie and mightie blowes one vpon another, that their strong helmes were brused, & they inclined their heads vnto their breasts. So then there began a cruell and mortall battell, one of the most terriblest in the world, for the strength of their blowes were so outragious, that with the least blowe they gaue, it was thought that the great hall would haue fallen downe. The Empresse and her Ladies what with the great griefe they had, and againe, with the excéeding heate that began in the hall, withdrew them­selues into their Closettes and Chambers, and likewise the knights that were present, departed and left them alone in y^e hall, sauing the Emperour onelye remained at the doore, to keepe the entrie y^t none sh [...]uld either goe in or out, who was very well armed. And Brandimardo and Claueryndo were with the Empresse Claridiana, beholding this cruell battell, not knowing who this great Gyaunt was that trauailed so much for the honour of the Emperour and his sonnes. In all this time these Gyaunts had no other care, but in brusing & mangling one anothers flesh, with so greate strength, y^t who­soeuer beheld them meruailed at their fiercenesse, and with­out doubt, all the furious rage of Gyaunts consisted in those two, as it did appeare by the terrible and outragious strokes that they bestowed betwéene them, for w^t the great strength and the sound thereof, the whole pallace did not onely shake, but also the whole Citie: in this sort they continued a greate while without taking anie breath, and all the floore of the hall was full of hoales, with the heauie blowes that had scaped by. Thus they long continued without knowledge of anie masterie betwéen them, but still they procured the one to in­damage the other, and to be reuenged one of another, with so greate rage and in such sort, that they séemed rather to bée rash and vnreasonable Gyauntes, then expert and valiaunt knightes: and in this their great furie they both lifted vp theyr great and heauie clubs, in such sort that their blowes met and discharged together, with such surpassing strength, [Page 51] that the club of the King of Sardenna, was parted in twain, but the mace of Bustrafo discharged vpon the other, although almost in vaine, for that it had lost the former furie by rea­son of the first encounter, neuerthelesse it made his healme to sound as an anfielde when it is stroken on with a ham­mer. Then this king séeing he had such an aduersary, thought it not good to vse delay, but with great hast he drewe his sword, and at such time as Bustrafo turned the second blow he could by no meanes shun or apart himselfe from it, but bare it off with his sword, and the fall of the blowe was such, that the mace was cut cleane a sunder, and the great end rolled on the flower in the hall. Bustrafo seeing himselfe dis­possest of his heauie mace, threw the tronchon which remai­ned in his hand, at the King of Sardenna, who receiued it vp­pon his shielde: but the strength of it was so vnmeasura­ble, that it glaunced on his shield, and flewe vpright to the top of the hall, and the king retired back thrée or foure steps, so that it was a wonder he fell not to the ground. In this time, Bustrafo had space to draw his sword, and to shrowde himselfe vnder his shield. Nowe there began a new, a more cruell and rigorous combat betwéene them, then at the first: for Bustrafo at his first blow, stroke the King vpon y^e shield, and parted it in two péeces, and with an infernall furie, it descended on his helme, and hurt his head, but y^e wound was not very great, yet the blow rested not, but glauncing on the harnesse, fell to the ground, whereas it made a great hoale: but in the meane time this newe conuerted King, was not idle, neither did his aduersarie escape his paiment for the blowe past, but hauing his sharpe cutting sword raysed on high, he discharged it with such excéeding force vpō Bustrafo, (who receiued it vpon his shield) that with y^e great strength thereof, it parted it in péeces, and descended vpon his helme, taking away with it all that it touched both of the harnesse & flesh, which fell together to the ground, so that Bustrafo re­mained very sore hurt. And when he sawe his owne bloud, the battaile beganne a newe to kindle, in such sort, that in a very small time, each of them were sore hurt in sundrie pla­ces, [Page] wherout issued so much bloud, that all y^e hall was sprin­kled therewith. This fierce Bustrafo séeing himselfe so ill intreated, his anger still more increased, and gaue y^e Sardeni­an such a blowe vnder the wast, that it [...]hewed his harde har­nesse, and parte of the swoorde was sheathed in the flesh, wherewith he was very sore hurt: so with the anguish and terrible paine that this Sardenian felt, he gnashed his téeth together, and with great furye he stroke at the head of Bu­strafo, who well knowing the waight of his blowes, stepped a side, which was the occasion, that the whole force of the blowe could take no effect, but with the poynt of his sword, he cut him on the visor, and it descended to his breast, and so downwards, insomuch, that it diuided the harnesse and hurt him verye sore, from toppe to toe, by meanes of which wound, he suffered great griefe, especially being in the place, where it was.

The déeds which in all this time chaunced vnto that va­lyant Rosicleer, we will héere declare, and leaue these two Giaunts, with their perillous, and well sought battaile, till such time as occasion doo serue to to goe forwarde with the same. You doo remember, how that we lefte Rosicleer with­in his inchaunted boate, sayling on the déepe seas, vnder the protection of Neptune. And so they trauailed for the space of fiue dayes, and as many nights, without séeing any thing, but the starrie firmament, and the furious waues of the sea, with out knowing whether they did sayle. In the sixt day of their nauigation, they beheld comming towardes them another great Foyst, who came with no lesse furie, then their boate sayled, and the course thereof was directed right with them. So when they drewe nigh together, the Foyst passed by so close, that they might well sée and discouer who was therein, and they perceiued within the same a damosell who séemed to be dead, and by hir stoode a monstrous Giant, and by the maste of the Foyst there was tyed a terrible Griffin, which caused great feare in them that beheld it.

The Foyst made such great waye, that Rosicleer hadde no time to leape into hir, which caused him to be verye sorry [Page 52] and he was y^e more incēsed, for that he could not be through­ly certified what this aduenture was and what the strange­nesse thereof did signifie, and with the anger that he hadde, he began to curse all inchauntments, and all them that vsed it: but all this did profit him but little, for that in a shorte time it sailed out of sight. And looking about him, he sawe two shippes, which were in a great fight, and very fiercely the one assaulted the other, to whome the boate wherein the Prince was, directed his waye with so swifte course, that he almost had no time to put on his helme. And with these two shippes was another boate, which by the force of armes was brought in subiection and ouercome by y^e other two shippes, and all the people were slaine that was in her, sauing a fewe which had withdrawen themselues into the poope of the barke for their defence, amongst whome, there was one of a verye great and excellent stature, who with strong and mightie blowes, caused all those that approached vnto the place where he was, to withdraw themselues, but by reason that they had bene very long in this battaile, and that they had troubled him very much, he could not choose but be very weake and wearie, in such sort, that if it had in­dured long, he must néedes haue finished the sight with his death.

After that Rosicleer had well behelde and noted the great strength and fierce courage of the Knight, it séemed vn­to him to haue knowen him, and viewing the deuice that hée hadde on his armour, hée knewe that it was Zoylo the Tartarian, and straight waie without anie more tarrying he leaped into the shippe, and beganne to let them knowe the strength of his strong arme, for in such sorte he bestur­red him, that at the first blowe he cut off helme and head, of one of his enimies, and not being content with this, he began againe to strike first on the one side and then on the other, so that there was not one that was so hardie to abide his terrible blowes, but when his aduersaryes sawe his furie, there ioyned more then thirtie of them together, pretending to assault him, but amongst them there [Page] was one who séemed to bée the principall of them all, sayde. Returne you all backe againe and make an ende of that, which weake and simple women would long since haue finished, and let me alone with this knight that so rigorously doth behaue himselfe, and with great furie he pressed forward and stroke the Prince such a blowe that hee made him asto­nyed, but this miserable man little knewe that hée had to doo with the best Knight in the worlde, for if he had, he would neuer haue made resistaunce against him face to face. And tourning to strike him once againe, hée discouered the de­uice that he had in his shéelde, whereby he knew him, and was verie much afraide of that which should succéede. The Prince vnderstood by them that were in the shippe, that this was he which did gouerne them, he stroke such a blow at his right arme, that he cut it cleane off, so that arme and swoorde fell downe vpon the hatches of the shippe, who séeing himselfe so ill intreated, with a greate noise and pittifull shrike he en­tered in amongst his people, and cryed for helpe and succour, but all was in vaine, for that the Nephew of Tiberio stroke him such another blow vpon the helme, that he parted helme and head in two péeces, so that he fell downe dead: but when his companie sawe this, they altogether fell vpon him with terrible furie, thinking to make an ende of him, but he recei­ued them in such order, that quickly he made them to vnder­stand the strength of his victorious arme, for he neuer stroke blowe but either he slewe one, or felled him to the grounde, which was the occasion that their heartes fainted, that not one of them which remained durst approch, neuerthelesse they had so compassed him about, that he could not neither on the one side nor on the other make anie waie, for when he deter­mined to put himselfe forwards one waie, then the other be­gan to laie on him behinde, so that of necessitye hée was constrained in the end to set vpon them all at once, for that they did so trouble him. In this time Zoilo had somewhat recouered his strength, and was well eased of his weary­nesse, and séeing the valiauntnesse of his defender, he went to­wards y^e place where he was skirmishing, & with his sword [Page 53] in both his handes, he beganne to make greate destruction a­mongst his enimies, that the slaughter was so great, and their enimies not able to make anie resistaunce, but like misera­ble people determined rather to submit themselues to y^e mer­cie of that newe come knight, then to the force of theyr owne armes, and falling all downe at the feete of Rosicleer, they craued pardon of him for theyr offence, and mercie for their liues, the which he straight waye graunted, and sayde: It is great curtesie, yea, and no little charitie shewed toward the euill man in punishing him, if that he pretende to goe forwardes and perseuer in his naughtie lyfe. Neuerthelesse if you will promise me, that from this da [...]e forwardes you will amend your liues, and leaue this naughtinesse, that you shall not alonely finde in me this which you doo aske, but al­so true and perfect friendshippe at all times and in all things that you haue néede of, to the which they did all willinglye sweare they woulde performe. This béeing finished, the Prince and the Tartarian embraced one another, with great loue and friendshippe, and Rosicleer asked of the Tartarian what was the occasion that brought him into so great perill and daunger of death. The Tartarian sayde, that by force of an aduenture he departed the Emperours Court, (but he did not declare the effect) and how comming in that small shippe hée was taken with those rouers, who brought him into that greate distresse that he had found him in. Then Rosicleer againe threw his armes about his necke, and with great loue he sayd.

Fortune dealt but frowardly to bring thée out of Con­stantinople in such a time, for to leade thée vnto this perill, and so beganne to tell him of all that he had passed in the Countrie of Greece. And when he heard him name the La­die Tetigliasa, he shaked like the leaues of a trée, and sayde▪ Oh for Gods sake my Lorde, let not my cares heare the name of that thing which my heart dooth so much abhorre and detest. For heare I dooe sweare vnto thée, that liuing I will burie my selfe in this Sea, rather then to abide that speech.

[Page]At the which wordes the Prince was verie sore trou­bled, but a certaine aduenture which chaunced him at that verie same time, caused him to forgette this his troubled minde.

¶ How the king of Tire gaue an assault to robbe the shippe where the Prince was, and how the same king was ouer­come. Chap. 10.

SOdeinly amongest the knightes of those ro­uers that had escaped from the handes of the Prince, there arose a greate tumult and showting, with terrible shrikes, calling vp­pon their Gods for aide and succour, and the Marriners in greate hast beganne to vn­grapple and loose their shippes the one from the other, and with as great hast as they coulde they hoised vp their sailes, for to flye awaie and escape from the perill which they be­helde verie néere at hande. But when Rosicleer sawe this tu­multeous crie, with a verie angrie voyce he sayde. ‘What noyse is this amongest you captiue people? What sodaine feare is this that is come vppon you, that with so great hast you prepare your selues to runne awaye. Lorde aunswe­red one of them, greate reason wée haue to make all this hast which wée dooe, for you shall vnderstand, that there ap­procheth nigh vnto vs either dreadfull death or cruell impri­sonment.’This noble and valyaunt Prince looked about on euerie side to sée what the occasion shoulde bée that shoulde cause them to worke this fact: and straight wayes he dis­couered a verie faire and rich Gallie which came towardes the place where as they abode, with theyr Sayles alofte and a prosperous winde, so that the Gallie in a manner sée­med to flye vppon the water. Rosicleer without anie alte­ration asked them, saieng.

‘Tell mée who is it that commeth in yonder Gallie, that hath put you in so much feare. Ualyaunt Knight (sayde they) there commeth in yonder Gallie the king of Tire, a mightie [Page 54] and strong gyant being a rouer, we are not able fullie to cer­tifie you of his great strength and deformitie, but of this wée are assured, y^t the verie Gods in heauen doo feare him, his life & custome is to rob all that euer he doth meete, and if it so fall out, that anie doe make resistaunce against him, he straight commaundeth them to the point of the swoord with extreme crueltie: so heere gentle knight, iudge whether we haue cause or not to doo our indeauour for to auoide this great daunger.’ The Prince hearing all this which they of the ship told him, began to make himselfe readie to the battaile, and laced on his helme, and put all thinges in verie good order, and when that all was readie he sayde vnto them that were with him.

‘O you people of little courage & small strength, I sée well you are all base minded, and that there is no hardinesse in you, but onely for vile matters, get you downe and hide you in the pumpe of the shippe, for I will not consent that anie of you shall runne awaie, neither shal your cries excuse me of this battaile,’ and so with a lowde voice he commaunded to beare vp the helme, that the ship might runne right vpon the Gallie. The Tartarian séeing that they pretended to giue the enterprise, commaunded those that were with him straight waies to put his vessell in verie good order, of the which it had greate néede, so with as great hast and swiftnesse of saile as was possible, they procured that the Shippe and Gallie might ioyne both together, and in verie short time they were come so nigh each to other, that anie man might well discouer and perceiue all that was in the Gallie of their aduersarie. This valiaunt and worthie Rosicleer sawe the greate Gyaunt where hée sate in the middest of the poope of the Gallie in a Chaire, where they verie plainely sawe his countenaunce was so terrible, and his bodie so greate, that all those which were present with Rosicleer were a­fraide to beholde him. And when the Gyaunt vnderstoode that those which were in the ship would not alonely defend themselues, but also offend their enimies, his rage was such, that in great hast he arose and with a mightie voice he called [Page] for his armour, vttering these words.

‘O you people most vnfortunate, frō whence hath come this hardinesse vnto you, to offend the King of Tyre, vnderstan­ding and knowing, that I am not onely feared of men, but also the Gods in the high heauens doo tremble at my name, and desire to haue my friendship. Then Rosicleer aunswered and sayd, Make thy reckoning, that thou hast sayd euen as much as nothing, for of my selfe I speake, that I am none of the Gods thou namest, neither know I thée by the name thou tellest, nor yet doo I desire thy friendship, nor any others that practiseth the like workes, as thou dost, neither, doo I estéeme thy threatnings, nor yet thy furious coūtenance, nei­ther can thy great body put me in any feare.’ And with this, he commaunded the marriners to grapple the shippe & Gal­ley together very strongly. Which, when this fierce King sawe, with great anger he arose out of his chaire, and not tarrying to lace on his helme, would haue entered into the shippe: but Rosicleer perceiuing his pretence, thruste him with so great force, with both his hands vpon the brest, that he made him to fall backwardes into his owne galley, and sayd. Stand backe thou infernall creature, & take thée to thy armor, what, doost thou thinke y^t thou méetest with such as thou art wont to doo, to feare them with thy diuelish coun­tenaunce? Thou shalt haue neede both of armour and hands, for to delyuer thee from the punishment of the iust Iudge, whose reward shal now be executed vpon thée, for thy vniust workes, and cruell customes, wherein thou hast long con­tinued.

There was neuer séene amongst sauage beastes so much anger, as at this instaunce appeared in the Giant, and with the madnesse of his heart, he drewe out his mightie & hea­uie sworde, wherewith he woulde haue stroken Rosicleer, but this valiant Knight with great disc [...]etion, stepped on the one side, so that his blowe was discharged in vaine, onelye it stroke vpon the side of the shippe, and it fell with suche great strength that it cut the shippe downe, euen with the galley.

[Page 55]This noble Gréeke was nothing at all idle, but ha­uing his rare and precious Sworde, which Queene Iulia had sent him, in his hande, hée stroke a terrible and fierce blow at the Gyauntes face, but by reason he was so farre off, he coulde not reach it, but that the point of his sharpe Swoorde onelye passed through his chéekes, but if he coulde haue comprehended more of his head with that blowe, he had made an end of the battayle. This furious Gyaunt when hée sawe his bloud before him, he gaue a terrible groane, and therewith tooke his broade swoorde in both his handes, and with blaspheming and cursing his Gods, hée lyft it vp for to strike this valiaunt Gréeke, who séeing it to descende, de­termined not to receiue so doubtfull a blow, but with great and singular wisedome deliuered himselfe from it. The blowe was such that if it had not doubled in the maine sayle which somewhat disturbed it, it had béene sufficient to haue diuided the Shippe in péeces. This valyaunt and mar­tiall Prince, which with greate discreation and aduise­ment sustayned this battaile, had alwayes a verye good eye to the Gyaunt, who for to vnloose his Swoorde where it was fast in the Shippe, was inforced to put his lefte hande to holde fast by the shippe side, whereat Rosicleer stroke with such furie that the Gyants hand remained fast to the Shippes side, diuided from the arme. But when this terri­ble and fierce Gyaunt sawe himselfe lame, and that he had cleane lost his lefte hand, hée began a newe to curse and blaspheme his Gods, and procured to hurt this Gréeke by all meanes possible that hée coulde inuent, but he prouided so to the contrarie, that not one blowe which the Gyaunt stroke should eyther touch or hurt him, in such sort, that at last when this furious & outragious diuel striuing to strike this Gréeke Knight, was driuen to ballaunce his bodie, thereby to reache at him, this Knight let passe the same blowe euen as hée did all the rest of his blowes, and in passing by hee gaue him such a cruell blowe vppon the right arme, that he cut it off almost by the elbowe.

And when this miserable king sawe himselfe with­out [Page] hands, he gaue a great crye and rored like a furious bull, and therewith he clasped himselfe to the m [...]ste of the galley, and with great case he pulled it out of his place, and in an infernall rage, he woulde haue entered into the shippe, but Rosicleer with his handes once againe thrust him on the breast in such wise that he was constrained to fall downe vpon the side of the galley, and by reason of his hugenesse & great waight, he lyghted with the one halfe of his body ouer boord: and because he had not his hands, he could not helpe himselfe, but tumbled with his head forwards, into the déepe and wide Sea, wherein béeing drenched, he finished his miserable and vnhappie dayes. Then those which were of his Gallie séeing this his wretched ende, and fearing theyr owne misfortune, in a meruailous greate hast vngrappeled the Shippe, which was done with such spéede, that when Ro­sicleer remembred himselfe, he had no time to offende them, nor to doo them anie more harme. Then those which were in his Shippe and had behelde this short and victorious bat­taile, beganne a new to fall downe at his féet and most hum­blie craued pardon for their former feare. Then the Prince turned towards the Tartarian, who all the time of this con­flict, was beholding his excellent and mightie strength, and much meruailed at that which he had séene, and asked of him what he hadde determined to dooe. And the Tartarian aunswered, that he would in no wise depart from his com­maundement, and béeing in talke, they, vpon a sodaine sawe two shippes, which séemed vnto them, that they were in a great fight. These Princes were meruailous desirous to be with them, to vnderstand what they were. So this valy­aunt Greeke, tourning to the Tartarian, he said, Prince of Tartaria followe mée, and in greate hast he leaped into his Boate, and he was no sooner entered therein, but that it be­ganne to make waie lyke a Thunder-bolt in the ayre, so that it séemed sparkes of fire flew out of the water, in such sort that the Tartarian hadde no time to followe him, but by reason of the swiftnesse, he had quicklye lost the sight of him.

[Page 56]So for that it is requisite, let vs leaue this Tartarian, who was very sorowfull béeing lefte alone, and commaun­ded the marrineers to make waye with his ship, towardes the other two that were a fighting. So this valiaunt Rosi­cleer sayled on in his inchaunted boate, not without greate sorrowe, for that vpon a sodaine he had lost his perfect friend: neuerthelesse for that he did vnderstand that he was carried to conclude the things that were more for his contentment, he was driuen to comfort himselfe, with that which most he loued. So with these great thoughtes, he sailed two dayes without any aduenture worthy the telling. But the thirde daye very early in the morning, at such time as Appollo shewed abroad his glistering beames, they discouered lande, whether the barke with terrible furie made waye: and it séemed vnto him to be a very small Iland, where they arri­ued, neuerthelesse by the prospect of the riuers, it appeared to be a place of great delyght, and full of meddowes and other gréene fieldes. So by the resting of this barke a grounde, Rosicleer vnderstood that there he should goe aland, where­fore he descended out of the barke, and after him came his good horse, and to the ende he would trauell in more safetie, he mounted on his backe, and looked round about him, if hée coulde discouer any waye or path. But not farre from the place whereas he was, he beheld very faire and sumptuous buildings, wherewith he tooke the way that led him thether, and being nigh thervnto, he saw y^t it was old & ancient buil­ding. And as he went round about it a while for to beholde the same, he saw y^t ouer the principall gate, was this super­scription written. This is the famous and auncient Temple of the goddes Venus, from whence the noble Paris of Troy, stole the faire Queene Helena: this is the Iland of the mother of that cruell Cupide▪ the greatest sower of discord in all the world. This valiant Knight did very much content himselfe in beholding that olde and sumptuous Temple, the name whereof was spred through all the world, and lefte not any thing, neither without nor within, but behelde it fully to his contentment. After that he had spent a little time in peru­sing [Page] this, he put himselfe in a straight waye, which was not farre from a foote path thereby, whereas he sawe a man that was cutting of woode, of whome he asked what countrie it was, and who was Lord of it. This man perceiuing that hée demaunded somwhat of him, was not able to answere him, but made signes vnto him that he was dumbe, & moreouer, y^t he should returne backe againe, giuing him to vnderstande that if he did procéede forwards, he should finde great peril. This noble Rosicleer sayd then to himselfe, I doo not know what shall chaunce or happen me: notwithstanding, if a thousand that had their tongues should tell me, (yet would I not doo it, nor leaue off to follow this my pretended pur­pose) much more thou, whom I cannot vnderstand. And so without any more tarrying, he retourned vnto his new be­gun iourney, and at the going vp of a hill, he beheld a Ca­stle of a mightie and straunge bignesse, which was edified vpon another hills side. He was a good myle from it, when he discouered it, and so iournying thetherward; he hadde not trauailed farre, when he found himselfe in a faire, broad, & smooth way, whereinto when he entred, he sawe certaine foo­tings of horses, which appeared not to be made long before, but that lately they had passed that way: the which footings he followed, although he found other fayre wayes, and as much occupied as that wherein he was, yet for all that, be­cause he would sée what footings they wer, he would follow that way and none other, so not very farre from that place where he was, he heard (although it was somwhat distaunt from him, to his séeming) a great rushing of harnesse, and the more he trauailed forwards, the more plainer his eares wer occupied with this martiall musicke. Till in y^e end, drawing néerer, he perceiued, it was a notable & well fought battaile, for which cause he pricked his horse onwardes the faster, in such sort, y^t at y^t going down from a mountain, into a faire & broad plaine, he behelde at the foot of the castle very much people and amongst them Giaunts, all which were in bat­taile against one onely Knight, of a maruailous great & wel proportioned stature all armed in russet harnes without any [Page 57] other, deuise thereon, who with his swoord in both his hands made a meruailous and cruell slaughter, for that at his féete there lay many of the knightes dead, and also of the Gyants, notwithstanding they did trouble▪ him verie much, so that hee was brought to a verie ill passe, for he had hewing and strik­ing on him more then [...]ortie knights and two great gyants, it was a thing of great admiration to sée how the knight did besturre himselfe beholding himselfe so beset, yet for all that there was nothing looked for of him but death. Somewhat on the one side a little distaunt from the battell, he sawe a Damzell of a meruailous & excellent beautie, who with great sorrowe complained her selfe. This valiaunt warriour seeing what this knight did for his defence, and by his mightye prowesse app [...]ared to bee of high estate, he descended and lefte h [...]s horse, & with a quick pace he proceeded forwards wi [...]h his swoord in his hand, pretending to aide and helpe that one knight, seeing he had such néede thereof. Before I procéede a­nie farther in this battaile, I will (although it be somewhat troublesome to the reader) declare the rest of the terrible bat­taile that was betwéene the two gyants in the great hall of the Court of the Emperour. You haue heard how we lefte these two Gyaunts Bustrafo and Bramidoro in great cōten­tion of the battell, each one of them indeuouring themselues to winne the victory, although of each parte they denyed to either other the same. He that séemed to be most troubled in this battaile, was the Sardenian King, and with the thicke breath that proceeded from his vnpacient heart, his face was inflamed with the heate thereof. The which his aduersarie perceiued, and like a terrible and outragious Tiger, he lifte vp his mightie sword, letting it fall w^t such furie, as though fire hadde fallen from heauen. The King séeing that by no meanes he could escape it, lifte vp likewise his sworde, to ward that terrible blow: but by reason that that of the Gi­aunt Bustrafos, was of better stéele, and of more strength, hée cut the sword of the Kings in two péeces, and the blowe de­scended vpon his shoulder, and did a little hurt him. When this King sawe that his sword was in two péeces, hée was [Page] somewhat amazed, yet for all that, he lost not his knightlye courage, but with a valiant heart pressed to his enimie, and with that [...]tle that remained of his sword, he stroke Bustra­fo, vpon his helme such a blowe, (that if it had bene with the whole sword, he had cleared himselfe at that time of this daunger) yet it was not of so small force, but it cut off one of his eares, and carried away a péece of the iawe bone. This Gyant Bustrafo féeling himselfe so sore hurt with this terri­ble blowe, pretended to repaye him with double interest (the which if it had chaunced to take effect) it had made an ende of his dayes: but this newe conuerted Knight, ranne in vn­der the blowe of Bustrafo, saieng: O Iesus, kéepe and defend this thy newe conuerted seruaunt. And so ioyning together, they imbraced one another, whereas began a maruailous & strong wrastling, wherein they continued a good while pro­uing their strengths, and procuring the victorie, the one ouer the other, till at the last, both being not a little wearie, they fell downe to the ground, tumbling héere and there from one place to another, without loosing their holde, & in this stri [...]e Bustrafo his helme fell from his head, by reason that she la­ces wherewith it was made fast, were cut in péeces, so that his terrible and mightie face was plainlye discouered. But they séeing that this wrastling did little profit them, vnloosed themselues: but the King was the first that rose vp, as one that shewed himselfe to haue the best stomacke, and séeing that all Bustrafo his head was bare, in that he wanted his helme, he bent his armed fist, and stroke him such a blowe vpon the forehead, that his braines flewe out, and his eyes started out of his head, and there this vnfortunate Gyaunt fell dead to the ground. The King séeing then so good a suc­cesse in his battaile, fell downe vpon his knées to y^e ground, and lifting vp his eyes vnto heauen, he saide.‘I giue thée thankes most mightie Iesus, that thou gauest me to vnder­stand thy power, & lightenest my vnderstanding for to leaue this error in the which I was led, and to come to the know­ledge of thy true light. Then the Emperour came vnto him, and imbraced him, saieng. Worthy Giaunt, vnto whom it [Page 58] hath pleased God to impart so much of his grace, I doo most heartely desire thée to tell who thou art, that we may know who it is, that hath showed vs so much fauour and curtesie, to the ende we may render thée thy due desarts, for this thy worthy deede.’The Gyant tooke off his helme, and showed his fa [...]e which was of a sober countenaunce, all to be spotted with his owne bloud, and without moouing from the place wherin he kneeled, replyed and sayd, ‘I am Bramidoro King of Sardenia, who of long time haue bene subiect to the super­stitions of fained Gods, and by the prowesse of thy sonne the Knight of the Sunne, I am come to the knowledge of the almightie God, and am now ready to receiue the sacrament of baptisme. Therefore I desire thee (soueraigne Emperor) that it may be straight wayes ministred vnto me, and like­wise one that maye instruct me in all that shall be necessa­rie for my saluation.’ The Emperour receiued great ioye to sée a person of so great estimation, tourned vnto the know­ledge of the lawe and scru [...]e of God, and sayd. ‘Noble king you shall a while repose your selfe, to prouide remedy in the curing and healing of your wounds, for it is right néedfull, & when you are well of them, then shall all things be fulfil­led that you doo desire, that shall be necessarie for you.’This he sayd, for that he would haue it done with the pompe and right, that to so high a thing is requisit, and with the solem­ni [...]ie y^t in such cases they accustomed to vse: & in saying these words, he tooke him by the hand, & raised him frō y^e ground, & led him vnto the chamber of the Knight of y^e Sun, where as he was cured of the wounds that he receiued in the bat­taile, and was visited of all the Kings, Princes & Knightes, that were in the Court. The dead Giant was drawen out of the pallaice, and carried without the Citie, where, in stéed of a graue to bury him, they made a great fire and consu­med him to ashes. The thirde day after this aduenture was ended, y^e King of Hungarie departed w^t many other knights, that were very desirous to goe into their owne countries to take their ease, at which the Emperour remained very pen­siue. So the other day following, being on a sunday, they did [Page] ordaine a solēpne feast for to minister the sacrament of Bap­tisme vnto Bramidoro, for he had so great desire to be bapti­sed, that he would tarrie no longer.

How the king of Sardenia was baptised, and how that a La­dy demanded a promise of the Emperour, which he gran­ted, for the which all the Court was verie sad. Cap. 11.

THE next daie in the morning béeing Sun­daie, as you haue heard, the king of Sardenia was brought to the Church to recei [...]e his Baptisme▪ accompanied with all [...]he nobili­tie that at that present were in the Empe­rours Court. There went with him for his Godfathers, the king of Bulgaria, and the king of Nisa, and the Emperour vsing his magnanimitie went also with him side by side, vntill he came to the Church of Saint Sofia, whereas the Cardinall of Constantinople sayde Seruice and did baptise him, and confirme his owne proper name, when this was done with all the solempnitie belonging, they retur­ned againe vnto the Pallace, in the which vpon the one side was a verie faire Damzell, apparelled all in blacke, hauing no companie, but alonely one Page, shée hadde her beautifull eyes all swollen with wéeping, her countenaunce was very sadde, which did verie well declare the sorrowe of her heart, and beholding so noble a company to enter in, she was in qui­et till such time as the Emperour entered, and by his side the king of Sardenia, who was meruailously well adorned, & of goodly greatnesse, and of faire and gentle disposition. This damzell did well know which was the Emperour, whom she did come to séeke for, so drawing nigh vnto him there distil­led from her sorrowfull eies sa [...]t teares, resembling orientall pearles, which ranne downe [...]er chéekes, giuing very sorow­full and grieuous sighs, that all those which sawe her, were moued with compassion. The Emperour when he heard this heauie mourning▪ looked thetherward, and when he sawe her vsing his accustomed vertue▪ hée put himselfe before her, [Page 59] And at such time as he would haue kné [...]led downe (hée sée­ing hir so faire, and of so excellent beautie) wold not consent vnto it, but kept hir vp by the hand, and with swéete wordes gaue hir a comfortable welcome, and like entertainment. Hir seuere countenance, with hir well proportioned body did de­clare that she was worthy of all this honour. To the com­fortable words which the Emperour had spoken, this faire and distressed Lady aunswered.

‘Surmounted Emperour, this my great sorrow is so roo­ted in me, that I haue no ioye to receiue any comfort, neuer­thelesse, if it be true which I haue heard, both of thée and thy royall Court, the fame whereof, all the world doth resound: then I am sure that thou wilt not denie me of my request, for that hetherto thou hast not at any time denied any Lady or Damosell, which hath requested the same, hauing ne­cessitie and néede thereof: much more now, béeing demaun­ded of thée by so afflicted a Damosell as I am, being marti­red by the sonne of that adultresse Venus, whom I may re­semble vnto the Uulture, which alwaies taketh for hir repast and féeding, the bowells of that infortunate Ixion, and the more paine he suffereth, the more hir hunger increaseth, so that euermore by hir gréedines, he sustaineth a lasting grief, Euen so (soueraigne Lord) loue doth torment me, & alwayes is gnawing of these my afflicted bowels, yet neuer doo I feele them without loue, but rather alwaies, both in the Winter & Summer, in presence and in absence it doth still increase: so that I am at no time without loue, and continuallye my faith increaseth: and by no meanes can I receiue remedie for this griefe, but by the force and strength of some straun­ger, whom I doo séeke for continually, with great sorrowe. Therefore I doo desire thée (O soueraigne Emperour) if at any time thou hast passed the paines of loue, that thou wol­dest pitie them that are so sore afflicted and vnfortunate, and doo not denie me thy aide & helpe: for if I were the daugh­ter of base parents, yet in respect I am a woman, thou arte bound to succour and aide me. Much more, for that I am Li­dia the daughter of the King of Lidia, who for the loue of [Page] that liberall Brenio of Lusitania, I am cōstrained to pro [...]ure his libertie, and for the perfourmance thereof, your highnes shall not denie me a promise or boone that I will demaund, & in so dooing, thou shalt performe all that is due vnto thy E­state, and by duetie thou doost owe vnto such as I am.’ The Emperour who was meruailous attentiue vnto all that this faire Ladie had sayd, & very much beholding hir great beau­tie, he aunswered and sayd. ‘Of my faith faire Lady, I will not let to remedye this thy sorrowe much more then I am bound to doo by my high estate, and will procure by all meanes to ease this thy afflicted euill. Therefore now aske what thou séemest best for thy purpose, for I am héere ready to performe all, that by thée shall be demaunded of me. The Ladie sayd, I looked for no other thing but this, of thy Em­periall dignitie. Therfore ( [...]ouereign Emperour) it is requi­site that alone without any other companie, you goe with me to giue me this remedye.’ The Emperour although hée sawe that it was a haynous thing at that time to leaue his whole Court and estate, yet did he not showe any such coun­tenance, but with a valiant courage he called for his armor, the which was straight way brought vnto him, being all of russet colour, and the shield of the same colour, and ther was portrayed in it the picture of leane Death, with a sharp flesh hooke in his hand. All the Kings and Lords that were pre­sent at that time, would haue disswaded him from this his enterprise, but specially and aboue all the rest, the auncient Prince of Clarencia sayde. ‘Soueraigne Lorde, it is not conuenient nor agréeable vnto your high estate, to ven­ture your selfe in that, which appertaineth vnto trauay­ling and v [...]ntrous Knights: behold Lord, Princes, although they be liberall in promising, yet they ought to moderate themselues in performing, neither shuld Princes be so boun­tifull of themselues: for many times by procuring to ex [...]oll their fame, they abate the worthinesse of their estate. And againe, he that hath not to whom to giue reckoning, but vn­to himselfe, to him alone doth Fortune faile. Notwithstan­ding, [Page 60] thou (O souereigne Emperour) art more bounde to looke and haue a care vnto your owne subiects, more then to your owne person. And a good Prince ought rather to sub­iect his will to the fauouring of his people, then to please his owne appetite. For which cause, honourable Lord, you must pardon vs, for that we will not willingly consent, that one­ly for desire of this pompous same, that you doo pretende, we should loose your person. Tell me (noble Emperour) if that For [...]une shoulde (as she was woont to doo) tourne hir whéele, and kéepe your honour from vs, it would not onelye make an ende of you, but also depriue vs of the most noblest and worthiest Lord vnder the Sunne.’All those that were there present, and heard these reasons which the Prince vt­tered, did greatly praise and allowe his discréete saieng. So this honourable Emperour without shewing any alterati­on, aunswered and sayd. ‘Noble Kings and Princes, and my very friends. I giue you great thankes for the good will you doo showe mée, in that you would not that I shuld be absent from you: likewise you shall vnderstande, that it dooth as much grieue me, to seperate my selfe from your companyes, and I doo thinke my selfe blessed to haue such noble Knights as you bée vnto my subiects: notwithstanding you must con­sider, that as you doo loue the bodie and person of your Prince, so likewise you should desire and procure his fame and honour, for you knowe you haue many meates that are verye sauourie to the taste of anie man, and yet to the con­trarye verye hurtfull to the stomacke. It is a verye good thing to liue vnder compasse, and that gouerning is good, by the which fame and honour is not diminished, as this, for that he that is bounde, must procure, perfourme, and main­tayne his promise. For if I of my owne frée will, and to féede myne owne appetite, hadde procured and mooued this iourney, you had had great reason for to haue disswaded mée, but béeing sought for, and procured héereto, by this noble and distressed Damosell for hir defence, then what reason is it that I shoulde abandon my faith? Tell mée [Page] I praie you if now I should falsifie my promise, what hope of confidence heereafter shoulde remaine in you of my ver­tue? Of truth I saie vnto you, that Prince which doth not keepe and maintaine his faith which hee hath promised in giuing his word [...], hée is vnworthie of lyfe. And séeing that I haue graunted this iourney, although you be displeased therewith, I beséech you comfort your selues, for that by iu­stice I am constrained to goe, trusting in almightie God to retourne againe vnto you with greate honour and renowne. What woulde the worlde saie, when that for feare of hu­mane thinges I leaue to mainetaine iustice and righteous­nesse, and the obseruation and kéeping of my worde? Surely they woulde report me for a Prince of small vertue, & déeme you (so perswading mée) not worthie of a good Prince, for y^• many times God doth shew his power, whereas the weak­nesse of humane thinges be without all hope. Therefore I doo desire you all (my friendes) that you will not withdrawe mée from this my pretended purpose, for if I were not wil­ling therevnto, you were all bound to complaine of mée.’And making an ende of these his reasons he began to arme him­selfe. The Empresse that of all this thing was ignoraunt, when shée vnderstood therof by some of them that were pre­sent with the Emperour, shée came with shedding of manye teares for to hinder and withdrawe him from his iourney: the Emperours heart was somewhat gréeued to heare hir sorrowfull words, but with an heroycall courage he com­maunded her to returne vnto her closet, and willed all those that were present to goe and beare her companie, and would that none should remaine with him but Brandimardo, vnto whom the Emperour in greate secret sayd: That when Ro­sicleer or the knight of the Sun should▪ returne to the court, that hee shoulde tell them that he was gone to Lidia at the instaunt of the Ladye, for to restore her againe to her king­dome. With this he did charge him verie much, and that they shoulde straight wayes and without anie delaye de­parte for that place: Brandimardo thought greate friend­shippe in this which the Emperour commaunded, and gaue [Page] him greate thankes, with faythfull promise to accomplish the same, and taking his leaue, the Emperour straight weie entered into a Foyst that was there readie with sixe oares on a side, and hoysing sayles they made such waie that in a small time they had lost the sight of the Citie. This faire Damosell was verie gladde, and did exercise her selfe in no other thing but in seruing the Emperour. In this sort they sayled all that daie and all the night till the next morning: this noble Emperour saie in the poope of the Galley, and by him sate this faire Ladie, on the one side, of whome hee as­ked the cause why shée brought him out of Constantinople. Unto whome with manie teares distilling from her chri­staline eyes, and with greate sighes that proceeded from her dolorous heart, she said.

‘I haue tolde you noble Emperour that the force of loue hath brought mée to this extremitie wherein you nowe sée me. Also I tolde you that I am Lidia, daughter vnto the king of Lidia, and was meruailously and daintely brought vp, and much set by of my parents, and now all alone with no other companie then you doo sée I goe subiect vnto this miserie. The great fame of this my surmounted beautie was so spred abroade, that it was the occasion that manye knightes of straunge Countryes resorted vnto the Court of the King my Father, and amongest them all there was one that came from a farre, whose name was called Brenio, of the Coun­trie of Lusitania, beeing of a meruailous beautie and no lesse valiauncie, which did so surmount, that in all the Countrie hath neuer bene séene the like, and cruell Cupide, I knowe not whether it was to vse his accustomed pollicies, or whe­ther he was enuious of his beautie, hée stroke mée with his poisoned arrowe, in such sort, that I was constrained by that force to loue this vnhappie knight, and therwith constrained to forget the roiall estate from whence I descended, I did exer­cise my selfe in no other thing, but thinking on his loue, and determined to giue him vnderstanding thereof in as secrete wise as I could, so long it lasted that I waxed blinde in loue, & feared that he would not vnderstand y^t I loued him, where­fore [Page] I did plainly declare it to him, which gréeued him no­thing at all, (but rather vnto my seeming) he was verie well pleased therewith, so by all meanes possible I did procure to speake with him, and imagining which shoulde be the best waie, I thought it good to ordaine a hunting, thinking there to haue opportunitie to be alone in the thickest of the For­rest, and there to ease and lighten my selfe somewhat of that heauie loue, which by sorrow I receiued, in giuing him to vnderstand the whole effect of my determined minde: so this hunting I put in vre, and tooke the mountaines and woodes, and the hunts men prouided the [...]ame, béeing a great Hart, which Hart was (as in the end it proued) accursed in my sight, yea, more worse then the shéeld of Pallas in the eyes of Medusa, which made all people to desire to followe her: so the hunts men followed their game with such hast, that there I was left alone, remaining only in my companie this knight, who was halfe perswaded of my determination, so I had scant well framed my eyes to content mée in behold­ing of his christalline countenaunce, when that vppon a so­deine we were beset and betrayed of a great and furious gy­aunt, and with him eight knightes more, in such sorte, that my Brenio had not time to defend vs, nor I to call for helpe and succour, so that we were theyr prisoners, and they carri­ed vs, and put vs into their théeuish Galley, whereas straight waye they hoised saile, and carryed vs to sea, wée béeing without all hope of succour, and there was I with greate trauaile deliuered from the hands of a vile théefe, that would haue dishonoured mée. And so hauing the winde prosperous to their desire, wée ariued verie shortly after at an Ilande called Otono, which is adioyning vnto one parte of your Kingdome, whereas wée went a lande. Noble Prince, I did not féele so much force by my imprisonment, neyther did I receiue so much griefe for mine own sorrow, as I did for my best beloued Brenio, who was so laden w^t yrons & chaines, that my heart coulde not by anie meanes suffer it, but I beganne to call them traitours, and that they were no Knightes, but théeues and robbers, saying, that ouer one [...] ­lone [Page 62] & an vnarmed Knight they haue strength to work such violence, but not able to make anie resistaunce against ar­med Knightes. And the Gyaunt aunswered, Oh how sim­ple doest thou shewe thy selfe, in thinking that there is anie who is able to resist our strength, and for that thou shalt vnderstande and see howe little wée doe estéeme the strength of men (yea, the strength of the Gods wée make no reckoning of) take this Gallie and all thinges that shall bee necessarie for thy voyage, and take with thée one of these my Pages, and goe and séeke the Emperour Trebatio, or ey­ther of his two sonnes, whose fames are spread throughout the worlde, and bring them hether, and sée whether theyr strength is sufficient for to deliuer this thy knight out of prison. So I put this iourny straight in practise, & departed, and in the voyage I escaped with greate daunger to be rob­bed at sea by rouers and théeues, so in the ende I came and presented my selfe before your highnesse.’ The Emperour who was verie attentiue to all this which the sorrowfull Ladie had tolde him, and vnderstanding the cause of all her trouble, he answered. ‘Oh happie & venterous knight, to whō loue hath shewed so much fauour, to cause so n [...]ble as Dam­sell as thou art, with thy trauaile to procure his libertie? how much is he bound vnto thée faire Ladie, seeing that thou do­est deserue the praise of all other women that hath béene wounded with loue, & these thy déeds to be registred for a per­petuall memorie, & for an example to all other ladies▪ Noble Lidia, of truth I tell thee, y^t my departure from Constantino­ple was with some sorrow, to leaue my Empire and subiects, but now I am voide thereof, & am glad y^t I am come to pro­cure thy remedie, & the death shal be vnto me a happie death, receiuing it for a ladie that is so loiall.’ These & such like rea­son of a perfect louer y^• Emperour expressed, when vpon a so­daine they were constrained to leaue the waye they tooke, by force of y^• wind, which came with such gales, that they were faine to take another waie, which carried them vnto a deso­late Iland, wher by force of wether they entered into a port, y^t was knowen by the marriners, & there let fall their ankor▪ [Page] The Emperour who was mooued with much compassion of the great trauaile of this Ladie, and somewhat to refresh hir in the aire, he caused hir to goe a lande, and taking hir by the hande, he did helpe hir out of the Gallie, and they rested themselues vpon a little mountaine, from which place they might discouer a great parte of the Ilande, and more they discouered a great way from thence, another smal moū ­taine, vpon the which there séemed to be a fire, or light, and making little account thereof, they asked somewhat to eate, which straight way was brought them by the marriners, & so they refreshed themselues. They had scarce made an end of eating, when that they heard a terrible shrike, which was such, that the faire Lady lost hir colour: but the Emperour rose vp on his feete, and looked round about him to sée if he could perceiue what it shuld be, but he could sée no more thē, than he sawe at the first, and so retourned and sate down a­gaine: but he was not scant setled, when he heard the lyke shrike again. The Emperour turned and rose vp the second time, and said: Who art thou, that dost thinke to make me afraide with these thy shrikes, I tell thée that thou art verie much deceiued: thou wilt rather giue me occasion thus in offending me, to séeke what thou art that makest this terri­ble noyse. And with these words he sayd vnto the Lady, that she should returne vnto the galley, for that he would goe sée what thing it should be, the which she would not consent vn­to, but would néedes goe in the company of the Emperour. And when the Emperour saw the determination of y^• cou­ragious Damosell, he threwe his shield vpon his arme, and laced and made fast his healme, and so a foote they tooke their waye towards the place whereas the light was, for that to­wardes that parte they heard the noyse. And trauailing in the middest of the waye, at the foote of a hill, they found an Image of fine Christall, which séemed to be wrought by the handes of some excellent workeman, all to be spotted with bloud. And it appeared by the woundes that were formed in the same figure, that it was the Image of one that had suffered great torments, as well with terrible cuttings, [Page 63] of yrons, as with cruell whippings. The legs and the armes did seeme as though they had bene martired and wrong with cordes, and about the necke, as though it had bene strangled with a towell hard wrong, and there was written vpon the breast, with letters of liuely bloud, this Epitath. I am Herea the Kings daughter of Cimarra, violated and slaine by No­raldino King of Numidia. And thou knight that this present spectacle shalt viewe, I doo desire thee, that if thou dost goe forward this way, let it be with great courage, for to take ven­geaunce on this crueltie, for that I am not of my selfe able to seeke reuengement. This Emperour, who had wel considered y^• great crueltie y^t had bene vsed against that infortunate la­die, being moued with great compassion he sayd, I doo vow that if there be any meanes whereby to be reuenged of this thy death, to procure it with all my power: and with this determined purpose, they proceeded on their waye, and went so farre, that they perceiued, that the light which they hadde séene, did procéede of two gates of fine Christall: and there they sawe in the high way, a great pillar, whereon was han­ged a written table, with these contents: Knight, looke wel vnto the oath which thou hast taken, for that this is a perilous enterprise: and from this place thou hast license to retourne backe a gaine, and not to fulfill thy promise, for that the King of Cimarra, will not constraine nor force any manner of Knight. The Emperour said, As well they maye raise from death to life all the famous Romanes, which haue ben from the time of Romulus vnto Caesar, and all the rest vnto this time, as to perswade me to retourne from my promise, which I haue made: and if they were all present liuing, they were not sufficient to cause me to leaue my oath. Therfore héere now I doo sweare again, neuer to returne into Greece, till such time, as I haue performed that which I haue sayd. And thus burning with great desire to sée y^e end of this sor­rowfull aduenture, he procéeded forwardes, vntill such time as they came to the Christall gates, the which they founde open, and at the threshold [...] of the entring there laye a long a greate and huge Gyaunt, who when he saw this knight, [Page] he arose on his féete and went vnto a place thereby, whereas was made fast to a piller a verie furious griffon, which with greate spéede he did vnloose out of his chaines, and hée was no sooner at libertie, but that with great furie he flew vp into the aire more swifter then an Eagle, and as you dooe see a Hawke houering in the ayre, till such time as the Hearn [...] riseth out of the water, and then with greate furie falleth downe right on her praie, so likewise this furious Griffon when he sawe his time, with a meruailous and infernall fu­rie descended right downe, but when the Emperour sawe that he descended with such furie, hée caused the Ladie to shrowd her selfe vnder an olde house that was there at hand, and hee couered himselfe with his shéelde, and hauing his swoorde in his hande at that time as the Griffon descended with so great violence (that it somewhat feared the Empe­rour) notwithstanding hée lifted his shéelde for to receiue that terrible blowe of his clawes, which fall was with so greate force, that he pulled the shéeld cleane from his arme, but this valiant warriour stroke him such a blowe with his swoord, y^• he thought hée had cut him in two péeces; but yet he found his feathers to be so harde, that he had done him no harme, and although his hard feathers did defend him, not to receiue anie hurt with the swoorde, yet it could not bée but hée must néedes féele some griefe by the greatnesse of the blowe, for that with a greeuous shrike he mounted vp into the ayre, giuing a thousande tournings. When the Emperour sawe himselfe without his shéelde, which that infernall Bird had carryed with him into the aire, and let it fall downe againe a great wayes distant from the same place where he was, it made him to haue alwayes a verie good and diligent eie, to y^• griffon to marke when he would descend, who straight way began to descende, vnto his thinking with much more furie then at the first. And looke euen as the Eagle when shée hath caught a Uiper, dooth procure to pull off her skinne in striking her vppon a harde stone, whereby to saue her selfe that she be not striken with that strong poison, and so in [Page 64] safetie to deuour her praie: euen so did this Griffon flying heere and there from one place to another, to see where hee might laye holde on the Emperour, without receiuing such lyke harme as before hée did. And as by force of the wa­ter the Mill carryeth the stone about with greate furie, euen so this worthie warriour bestowed himselfe for to defende him from this furious beast, yet he coulde not doo so much, but that he must néedes receiue some of his terrible blowes, and his swiftnesse was such in rising into the ayre, and fal­ling downe, that hée coulde not fasten one blow on him with his swoorde, but he did hurt the Emperour with his clawes sometimes on the armes and sometimes on the healme, but yet coulde he neuer haue anie fast holde on him to doo him harme, for that he neuer stoode still, but moouing héere and there, shunning his blowes, & euen as a furious Lyon, who in the time of sléepe is molested and troubled with small beasts, créeping on him in all places, which he féeling with his mouth, snappeth héere and there on euerie parte rounde a­bout, so long, til in y^e end being throughly incēsed, at once they paie for all the iniuries that they did him: euen so this vali­aunt Emperour vsed himselfe with this terrible Griffon, flourishing with his swoorde round about on euerie side, a­waiting opportunitie at one time to requite him for all the sorrowe that hée did him, but in the ende séeing that it did little profit him in dooing this, he sodeinly bethought him of another remedie, which was to kneele downe with one of his knees on the grounde, that when the Griffin shoulde descend more lower to hurt the Emperour, that then with as great lightnesse as he coulde, he woulde rise vp, and with more ease strike him, which he presently did put in practise, So this terrible Griffon descended downe, and with one of his sharpe clawes he clasped fast holde on the Emperours healme. Then the Emperour seeing this fierce Griffon now to descend down more lower then he did before at other times, he thought it not good to be idle at anie time, but with exceeding greate lightnesse he arose vp and carryed [Page] his swoord right vp with the point, and by reason that he [...] was fast with his clawes vpon the helme, hée could not loose himselfe so quickly, but that the Emperour did hurt him in such sorte, that he thrust all his swoord into his bellie. And when the Griffin felt himselfe so sore hurt, he pulled with so great strength, that if the helme had not left his head, he had pulled the Emperour vp into the aire with him, which wold not haue fallen out well with him, but God was so pleased, that in that time the lases with the which it was made fast brake. This Griffin féeling himselfe pearced with this mor­tall wound, cut through the aire, as a whirlwind, with great and terrible shrikes, but straight hée fell downe dead to the earth, for that the wounde reached vnto his heart.

The Giaunt when he behelde his Griffin to be dead, made no more a doo, but entred into the castle to arme him­selfe, the which the Emperour well perceiued, which made him to make spéede to fetch his shéeld, whereas this infernal birde had let it fall. So not long after this gyant came forth al armed with armour of a boyled skinne, with a great club full of knots in his hande, saying with a hoarse and terrible voice. Doe not thinke thou knight of the Diuell, for all that thou hast slaine the kéeper of my Castell, that the entering is anie whit the more at thy commaundement, and héereof thou maist be sure, whereat the Emperour answered neuer a word, but rather inuited him to battel, & they ioyned together like two furious tygers, hauing their defence in their hands, burning with great fury the one against the other. Then they thrust themselues forwardes with meruailous force and spéede one against another, discharging their great and mightie blowes that it was wonderfull to beholde. But the Emperour did not determine to receiue the blowes of his enimie fullie and whole, but rather procured that he shoulde discharge them in vaine, and so hée did, for the Gyaunt lift vp his greate and huge clubbe to strike him therewith a maruailous and mightie blowe, which when the Emperour perceiued it to descend, he stepped a side w^t so great lightnesse, that it séemed to be wonderfull, in such sort that his clubb [...] [Page 65] fell downe to the ground without doing anie harme. Then this valiaunt warriour before the Gyaunt had time to re­couer and lift vp his heauie club againe, stroke him on both his armes such a terrible and furious blow, that he cut them both off, and they fell to the ground. When the Gyant sawe himselfe so sore arayed, like a rauening. Woulfe he ranne to him and would haue imbraced him, but the Emperour with his accustomed knighthoode gaue a thrust at his breast, that by the great strength thereof he thrust his swoorde cleane through his bodie, so that the point came out at his backe al­most the halfe swoord, wherewith this Gyant gaue so great a fall to the earth, that it séemed a whole Towre had tum­bled downe. When the Emperour sawe this good successe he had against his enimies, and in so short time, hee knéeled downe vpon his knées, and gaue thankes vnto our Lord Ie­su Christ for the victorie, in ouercomming two such infernal monsters as they were. The faire Ladie séeing the Empe­rour in battaile with so diuellish a monster, ranne and fetch­ed his helme which the Griffon had carried awaie, & brought it vnto him with all the spéede that might be. The Empe­rour who perceiued the great care which this Ladie had, and the diligence she vsed to helpe him in so great néede, he gaue her heartie thankes, and tooke his helme and put it on his head, and made it fast, and when he saw that there was none to dis [...]urbe him of his entering into the Castell, he went vn­to the doore whereas he found the Gyaunt lying along at the thresholde, and entered in thereat, and lead this faire Ladie with him by the hande, for that shée woulde ne­uer leaue him, and so they entered in at the Castle gates, without finding anie to disturbe them, and passed on till they came vnto a faire large and great hall, whereas by certaine windowes verie subtilly deuised from the toppe thereof they receiued light, and in the middest thereof was a stately bedde, adorned all with blacke clothes, and vppon the bedde was the perfect figure of that Image of Christall, which they sawe in the middest of the high waye. The Emperour could not by anie manner of meanes refraine from shedding [Page] of some sorrowfull teares, in séeing before him so lamenta­ble a spectacle, and to thinke that so greate crueltie shoulde be shewed vnto a womā of such beau [...]ie. This pittiful Em­perour had great compassion when he saw first the counter­fait of this tormented creature, but much more without all comparison, his sorrowfull heart lamented when hee beheld the naturall bodie, for that all her flesh séemed to be christal­line stones, by the greate whitenesse and beautie it had, shée had all her legges spoiled with the torments of cordes, and all her bodie wounded with whippings, and that cruell and str [...]ng [...]ing to well about her necke. The Emperour was a greate while in greeuous contemplation in beholding of this lamentable sigh [...] (as I haue tolde you) and with him was al­waies this fayre and beautifull Lidia, till at the last, lif­ting vp his eyes, he sawe a Table which hanged vppon a beame, whereon was written these wordes which follow­eth.

‘O thou knight which hast passed by the kéepers of this my pittifull daughter, if thou wilt confirme the oath which thou hast made, lift vp the pillowe whereas her wre [...]ched head doth lye, and vnder it thou shalt finde written in a scrowle of Parchment all the successe of her heauie and sorrowfull death, for that in vnderstanding it, thou shalt be the more prouoked to incourage thy selfe to procure her re­uengement, seeing that so much without fault or desert she suffered it. The Emperour did as was there declared, and ra­tified and confirmed there a new his oath, and lifting vp the pillowe he found a shéete of Parchment rolled vp together, which he opened. Héere will I make an ende of this Chap­ter, to receiue some ease in telling of this that is past, & turne vnto the other, to declare vnto you the most dolorus and grée­uous historie that euer hath bene heard or séene.’

¶How the Emperour did open the scrowle of Parchment, and therein read the cause why this dead Ladie was slaine, with such cruell tyrannie, and of the great sorrow that hee receiued for the same. Cap. 12.

[Page 66] YE faire Ladies and Damosells, for that ther be some, which without hauing anye know­ledge of your deseruings, that take great ple­sure with their venemous words & poysoned pennes to intreate euill of your honors and fame, publishing vniustly that, which with iust reason and by nature, they are bound with all their abi­litie to restraine. Likewise, all valyaunt Knights, are bound either by force of armes, or els by sufficient conclusions, to defend your fame, from such false detractors. So heere ther­fore I doo request, all you bountifull and beautifull Ladies, to pardon this my ouer much hardinesse, for that heere I presume to declare that, which should be of all vnderstood, & in especiall of your firme loyaltie, hauing for a mirrour be­fore your eyes this faire Lady, who hath not deserued to suf­fer so cruell a death. So as I haue tolde you, the Emperor tooke from vnder the pillowe, the scroll of parchment, and opening it he read it ouer, which contained these sorowfull words.

‘I the heauie and vnhappie King of Cimarra, which in times past haue bene much estéemed, by reason of my great estate, wherein Fortune sauoured me very much, as also for two faire daughters, in all poynts so exquisite, as Na­ture could possibly frame, in whom I tooke much delight but yet in the end, that which I thought shuld most content me, the very same was the occasion, y^t I receiued this great tor­ment, which is such, y^t no humane creature can suffer it. My two daughters (as before I said) were indued with wonder­full beautie, & accompanied with no lesse honestie then was conuenient for their high estate: whose great fame was bla­zed all the world ouer, by reason wherof my court was ho­nored w^t diuers strange princes & knights, & specially with those of Africa, so y^t it grew to be y^e most noblest court that euer king had. Some came to see y^e worthy knights, & [...]thers with great desire to marrie with my daughters▪ but aboue all the king of Numidia called Noraldino, who being absent by y^e [...]ame of their surmounted beauties was taken prisoner [Page] for the loue of them, by force whereof he sent vnto mée his Embassadours, desiring me that I would thinke wel of him, and to giue him one of my daughters in marriage, so (not respecting his accustomed treason, but rather considering the great honour that might redound thereof for that hée was a mightie Prince) I thought it good to conclude with his Em­bassadours, and to fulfil his desire, and graunted him in mar­riage my eldest daughter. Then I ordeining all things that were necessarie and needfull for the same, in all respects con­uenient for her estate and my honour, I sent her with all the pompe y^t was possible to the kingdome of Numidia, & I retained and kept in my companie the youngest, who was named Herea, béeing of farre more beautie then her sister, of which this traiterous and vnnaturall king was informed by them which he sent to companie with my daughter, they did so much exalt her for her surpassing beautie, that there was not in him power to make anie resistaunce against that cru­ell and mortall wound of Cupide, but it constrained him to forget his new married wife & swéete companion, surrende­ring himselfe wholy vnto the power of y^e absent Ladie, with­out anie consideratiō that she was sister vnto her, that he had alreadie taken for wife. So this disordinate loue kindled and increased in him euerie daie more and more, and he was so troubled with this new desire, that he daily deuised with him selfe what meanes he might procure to obtaine her, in such sort, that no man might haue power to withstand him. In the ende he thought by pollicie and deceit to get her home to his kingdome, and sent vnto me, requesting that I would let her to come vnto her sister Melinda to beare her companye, for that therein shée shoulde receiue great ioye and com­fort, to passe awaie the troublesome time of her Sisters bée­ing with childe, for that shée sayde, with her companye shée shoulde thinke the time farre more shorter, and shoulde passe it ouer with much more ease, especially for that the loue she bare her sister was so much as to her owne selfe, and although I was not aduertised of the euill euent which might happen in sending her, yet did I make excuse, that [Page 67] by reason I was an olde man, and had no other com [...]orte but hir, I durst not send hir, neither suffer hir to vnderstand thereof, for that as I did suppose, she would receiue gre [...] griefe to leaue me alone and desolate of comfort. At y^• [...] aunswere this inhumane King thought very much, and was greatly grieued: notwithstanding with meruailous [...] and subtiltie he did dissemble it, till such time as my daugh­ter Melinda his wife, should be brought to bed and deliue­red, and then thinking that with the great ioye and plea­sure I should receiue for the birth of the new born infant, that I woulde not denye the sending of hir. So the [...]ime expired, he sent to me againe for hir: but I was alwayes firme, béeing resolued not to let hir goe from me, but still denied it, for that she was the whole ioye and s [...]affe of my olde age. Then this trayterous King séeing that by no meanes he could get hir from me, straight way ordayned a mightie and strong armie, and came himselfe to fetche her. And when I vnderstood of his comming, I went to receiue him with great pompe, as was néedefull for our Estates: and at our meeting, he requested me with very faire and lo­uing wordes, that I would let my daughter goe vnto her sister, to giue her that contentment which she desired, for that she did loue hir more than hir selfe. Thus his craftie and subtill perswasions so much preuayled, by reason of the humilitie and loue he shewed in his wordes, that I coulde not frame any excuse to the contrary, (he was so importu­nate,) but must néeds consent vnto his demaund. O immor­tall Gods, that in so secret wise ye made the heart of man, that you onely can comprehende the good and euill that is hid in it. Who would haue thought, (much lesse haue belee­ued) that this traiterous King by his swéete wordes and subtill speaches would haue robbed me of my onely daugh­ter. So straight waye, when he had in his power, y^t which his soule so much desired, he would not make any delay of his departure, giuing me to vnderstande, that he would not let any time, but carrie hir vnto his wife, for whose sight so much she had desired, and at whose comming she would re­ceiue [Page] great ioy & contentment. But what sorrow did I then féele, (nothing thinking of that which shoulde happen, for that my heart was ignoraunt of the knowledge thereof) but to see hir depart from me, for whose absence my heart remai­ned in so great sorrowe and heauinesse: giuing to vnderstand by the outward showes, & by the teares that procéeded from my eyes, the great paine and passion that the lacke thereof wold shortly procure: & in this sorrowfull sort, I was forced almost without any remembraunce, to retourne vnto y^e pal­laice. And they were not so soone entred into his ships, but as one very gelous to keepe close his treason, he commaun­ded straight to hoyse vp sayles, and commit them vnto the winde, and hauing too good and prosperous a weather, in a very short time he arriued in his owne Countrie, whereas two leagues from the Citie, he was receiued of his subiects with great maiestie, who brought with them both horse and Palfrayes néedfull for the companie. So beeing all in a rea­dinesse, he commaunded that they should beginne to martch forward towards the Citie. This false King still persisting in his euill determined purpose, commaunded (as I sayde,) that all the company should procéed forwards, and he with my sorrowfull daughter Herea, remained a good waye be­hinde. And when he sawe his company so farre before, and they two alone together, he stepped on the one side, and ledde the waye into a little groue which was hard at hande, fast by a Riuers side. He without any more tarrieng, carried hir into the thickest part therof, and as it appeared he was well acquainted in the same, and where he thought it most con­uenient, he alighted off from his horse, and willed my most welbeloued daughter that she shoulde likewise alyght. Shée in whose heart raigned no kinde of suspition, alyghted, and sa [...]e hir downe by the Riuers side, and washed hir fayre white handes, and refreshed hir mouth with the same wa­ter. Then this dissembling traytor could not refrayne, but by some outward showes, and darke sentences, gaue hyr to vnderstande, the kindeled fire of loue, with the which he was tormented, and in the ende he did wholy declare his diuelish [Page 68] pretence and determined purpose towards hir. So my lo­uing daughter Herea, being [...]ore troubled with his impor­tunate and continuall requests, with great anger, yet not without aduisement, she began to reprehende him, giuing him to vnderstand, all that was needfull against so diuelish a pretence. This vncleane King when he heard, that so ear­nestly and contrary to his expectation she aunswered, and would haue rose vp from the place whereas she sate, helde hir fast by hir apparayle, and would not suffer hir to arise, but began with softe and milde wordes to perswade hir to be quiet, and sayde. O my best beloued Ladie, wherefore wilt thou consent, that for thy cause I shoulde dye, & mayst now very well without being discouered of any, giue mee remedie for the same? Be not then obstinate to denye mée that, which with so great loue I doo desire of thee. Who is heere that can beare witnesse of this my priuie desire, and bolde enterprise, neither discouer thy gentle liberalitie shew­ed me? not one surely, but onely the immortall Gods. Un­derstande this for a certaintie (my swéete Ladye) that the God Iupiter doth receiue more griefe in this my sorrowe, then in the paine which thou dost suffer. This deceiued da­mosell, when she sawe that he held hir so fast with his tre­cherous hande, that she could not deliuer hir selfe, with furious anger she sayde. Traytor doo not thou thinke that these thy lecherous words haue power to moue my hearte, to graunt and fulfill these thy filthie, diuelish, and lasciuious thoughts: for héere I doo sweare vnto thee by the high and soueraigne Gods, that first I will permit & suffer my body to bée torne in péeces, then to open my eares vnto the hea­ring of so great treason. Therefore false King let me alone, and consider with thy selfe, that I am sister vnto thy wife, whome I sée well thou hast forgotten, by reason of this thy insatiable dronkennesse, and greedye desire of fit [...]hye lust. Therefore if it please thée determine to let mee alone, and defile me not, or else to the contrarie bee fully perswa­ded of this, that I will rather dye the death in my defence. Then this cursed king séeing that this shalt Ladye, [Page] did defend her selfe, he tooke fast holde by her necke, and said. Doe not thou thinke O cruell Herea, that thou canst dely­uer thy selfe out of my handes, except first thou graunt vnto this my desired will, and if not, I doo promise thée in pay­ment of this great pride which thou doest vse vnto me, to put thee vnto the most cruell [...]eath that euer was deuised for a­nie Damosell or mai [...]e. This distressed Ladie was nothing dismaide to heare that shée shoulde die, but without all feare she aunswered. Thinke not false traitour, that the feare of death shall cause mee to yéeld to thy filthie desire. The which béeing well vnderstoode by the king, he sayde. Understande then and bée well perswaded, that either liuing or dead I will performe my will and pretended purpose, which so with­out measure and with vnquenchable fire doth burne in my heart. Thus with great strength she did defend her selfe, and with a manly courage she kepte her honour, but this cruell and lasciuious king séeing that he coulde not fulfill his euill desire, in a greate madnesse he cut off a greate parte of the traine of her gowne, and bound it verie fast to the haire of her head, in such sort, that with the great strength he put thereto, and the tendernesse of the same, together with his euill in­treating, all the greene grasse was sprinkeled with the bloud that issued out, whereat he beléeued that she would haue ben quiet, and haue consented vnto him, but she respected not the euill intreating, but the more he procured to torment her, the more angrie she shewed her selfe against him with continu­all deniall. When this cruell traitour sawe that all woulde not serue, he beganne to forget all faith and loyaltie he ought [...]nto knighthoode, and the respect he shoulde haue vnto such as she was, but blasphemed against heauen, and tearing her clothes all to péeces, he stripped her starke naked, and with the raines of the bridle of his palfraie hée all to be whipped and scourged her white and tender backe, that it was full of viewe spottes, with such horrible crueltie that it was a verie greeuous and sorrowfull [...]ight to beholde. And yet th [...] did pro [...]it him nothing at all: hee séeing that this da­mosell did still perseuer and continue in her defence, hée [Page 69] straight wayes lyke a bloudie monster heaped crueltie vp­pon crueltie, and tooke and bounde her▪ well proportioned and christalline armes and legges with cordes, and made them fast verie strongly vnto a trée, saying. O cruell and more cruell then euer anie woman in all the worlde hath béene, wherefore hast thou béene the occasion to bring thy selfe to bée thus so euill and mischieuously intreated, and onely for not giuing consent vnto him, which alwayes woulde haue procured thy ease? What dooest thou thinke, is it better to suffer to be thus martyred, then to liue a most louing, swee [...]e, and contented lyfe. Then this euill intreated Ladie with a hoarse voyce aunswered and sayde vnto him. Oh wicked traytour, more harde hearted then euer knight hath béene, wherefore dooest thou make anie delaye, tell mée thou enimie to the Gods, why dooest thou not finish thy crueltie, and take the soule from this my miserable and wofull bodie? Doest thou not doo it, be­cause it shall not goe and complaine whereas thou shalt receiue the rewarde of this thy mercilesse inhumanitie. O you Gods, denie mée not my right iustice against this false and traiterous king? Let not to be true executioners of iu­stice in reuenging so dampnable a deede. And thus beeing wear [...]ed with the cruell and terrible torments, shée held her peace and sayde no more. But for all this, the king did not let to prosecute his crueltie, and with great anger he looked on her, hauing his accursed eyes fixed, in such sorte that he coulde not withdrawe them backe. Then this tormented Ladie séeing him, and béeing verie desirous of the death, with a furious voyce she sayde: What dooest thou thinke thou traitour, the greatest traitour that euer was in the world, wherein dost thou contemplate thy selfe, thou fleshly Butcher, thou vnmercifull Tyger, thou lecherous hogge and dishonourer of the royall crowne, make an ende of these thy tormentes, for it is nowe too late to repent thée, giue mée the death, and sende mée into the bosome of Diana. This vnpittifull king, seeing the stedfastnesse that shee hadde in the defence of her honour, with a cruell and infernall [Page] heart, hée tooke a towell which this Damosell had girded at her wast, and with a brutall anger doubled it about hir neck and pinched it so straight that the soule departed from the bodie. O thou knight that by thy prowesse doest come to read this Harchment, consider the greate constancie and chastitye of this vnfortunate Damosell, and let the griefe thereof moue thee to take vengeaunce of this greate crueltie, shewed with­out anie desert. So when this infernall king sawe that shée was dead, hee tooke his horse and returned from whence hee came, and in a short time he ouertooke his companie, and loo­ked with so furious and irefull a countenaunce, that there was not one that wae so hardie to aske him where my daughter was, but one of the knightes of my Court which I sent to beare companie with my daughter, hauing a suspiti­on by the great alteration that appeared in the king, and bée­ing verie desirous to knowe what was become of the Prin­cesse, for that he came alone without bringing her with him, neither coulde he haue anie sight of her, hee then pre­sentlye withdrewe himselfe backe, and following the foot­ings of the horse, he ceased not vntill he came vnto the place whereas this crueltie was wrought, whereas hée found this miserable Ladie lie dead, in the same sorte as I haue decla­red, at the viewe whereof he remained almost beside him­selfe, in such sorte that he had almost fallen to the grounde. This Knight remained a good while before he could speake, so when he was come againe to himselfe, hée beganne with a dolorous complaint, crying out against the Gods and for­tune, because they had suffered so greate crueltie to bée com­mitted vnto this damosell, and making this sorrowfull com­plaint, hée vnloosed her from the trée, and layde her vppon parte of her apparell, and couered her with the rest, and sayde on this wise: O cruell handes, what an infernall heart was that, which did beare thée companie to doe this vncha­ritable sacrifice? Was it not sufficient that this surmoun­ted beautie should haue mooued thée to more pittie. So with these and other lyke sorrowfull wordes that this knight spake vnto the dead corps, he cut downe braunches from the [Page 70] trées for to couer the bodie, and left it lying so, that it sée­med to be a mountaine of gréene trées, & then determined with himselfe in the best manner that he coulde to dissemble the knowledge of this fact done, hée tooke his horse and went the waie towardes the Citie which lead to the kings Court, in which he rode so fast that he ouertooke the king and his companie at the entering into the Citie, whereas the king a­lighted, and without speaking to anie person he entered into his close [...], by reason whereof this my knight had time to de­clare vnto the Quéene all that he had seene, and the dolorous ende of the Damosell Herea her sister. The sodayne and vn­looked for sorrowe mixed with great anger and wrath, was such in this quéene, that she commaunded the knight not to depart the court vntill such time as more occasion did serue, and she her selfe remained making meruailous and great lamentations to her selfe, all in secret, for that she woulde not be perceiued, yet with a soft voice she sayd: O vnfortu­nate queene and borne in a sorrowfull houre, oh vnhappie destinie, which madest me to be subiect vnto the most cruel­lest king amongst all kings, I suppose y^• fortune cannot be so much against me, but y^t she will procure to take reuenge­ment of thee? Oh immortall Gods reuēg [...] [...] this so great and horrible an homicide, and if not, I [...] [...]eare vnto you that I will with my owne hands put in practise such an enterprise, that you looking downe from the heauens shall tremble for the feare thereof? What doo ye, you deafe Gods, altogether without iustice, will you not hearken vnto this my gréeuous complaint, wel séeing you regard me not, I wil sée if y^t you haue power to withdrawe me from executing of mine own will. This saying she [...]ooke in her hand a dagger of the kings, and in her armes her youngest sonne, saying: I do not wish so much euill vnto the world, y^t I will leaue the sonne of so wicked a father to soiourne in it, & in this or­der she entered into the chamber wheras the king was, and there she founde him tumbling vppon his bedde from the one side to the other, without taking anie rest, and with sorrowfull wéeping, and a terrible voyce, she called him [Page] traytor, and like a fierce Tygresse with the dagger, which she carried, she cut the throate of that innocent infant, and threwe it to him on the bedde and sayde, take there thou cru­ell traytour, the fruite which thou madest within my body, and then she threwe the dagger after him to kill the King: but Fortune would not that it shuld take effect. This wret­ched King, when he sawe all this which the Quéene hadde done, he was therewith maruelous sore troubled, and in his furie, he layde hold vpon hir, and did intreate hir very euil. But when the Quéene sawe that the blowe tooke no effect, & that she could not bring to passe that which she had deter­mined, she returned vpon hir selfe hir outragious furie, ta­king that bloudie dagger, & thrust it to hir hart, in such sort, that she parted it in two péeces, and so she fell downe dead into the armes of him, which was the occasion of all this euill and crueltie. The great sorrowe that this false and and vnhappie King receiued was straunge, in such sort, that he knewe not what counsell to take, but thinking vpon the great punishment that might succéede these cruell actes, hée straight waies procured y^t the bodie of the quéene shoulde be buried in great [...]. At that time there was a soothsayer, a wise-man in [...], who aduertised him, y^t for this cruell fact which [...], his kingdome shuld be destroy­ed, and that it shoulde fall into the handes of him which he most hated, who was his brothers sonne, his cousin. The King béeing aduertised of all that which should happen, hée determined to vse a cruell pollicie, which was, hée woulde set watch and warde throughout all his Kingdome, for to take and arest all such trauellers, as by aduenture landed vppon his Ilande, not suffering them to passe, till such time as they hadde promised him by oath to ayde and assist him euen vnto the death against certaine his enimies, which wold dispossesse him of his Kingdome, ma [...]ng them beléeue that vniustlye and without occasion, they intended to take it from him. Then this my aforenamed Knight, which had séene and hearde all the tragicall dealing that is héere declared, in the best wise he coulde, retourned againe to my [Page 71] Court, and tolde me all that you haue heard, which was vn­to me verie sorrowfull and heauie newes. Iudge heere then gentle Knight what sorrowe I poore and vnfortunate king receiued, and what bitter anguish I sustained. So heerewith entered in the great soothsayer and wise man, called Artemi­doro, who came to comfort me, and certefied me, that all this crueltie should be reuenged by a mightie and strong arme, although before that should come to passe, there shoulde bée fought manie fierce battailes, and perswaded me to beléeue it, for that he tolde me the truth. So because that this wise man was so well knowen, I did beléeue him, and gaue cre­dite vnto his words, and requested him for his part, to pro­cure all that in him did lye, to preferre this my reuengment. So straight way he put it in practise, and caused a Chariot to be brought, and bad me enter into it, and in a trice he ca­ried me whereas my daughter was, and commaunded me to put hir into the Chariot, and brought hir vnto this Ilande, assuring me, that he which should ouercome y^e kéepers which he would héere set, should be the Knight, that should reuenge my iniurie. And seeing that thou hast ouercome the kéepers that had the charge of the body of this my murdred daugh­ter, perfourme now the oath which thou hast made lyke a valyaunt Knight: and for the better performaunce, thou must goe vnto Cimarra, whereas thou shalt finde me the vn­fortunate King thereof, awaiting thy comming.’

At the reading of this sorrowfull historie, the Emperour and she that was with him did shed many salt teares, wher­with there did increase in him a farther desire of reuenge­ment. And so they departed to the Sea side, whereas they did refresh themselues, and returned vnto their voyage late begun.

¶How the Emperour Trebatio did lande himselfe at the Ilande Citarea, and of all things that happe­ned there. Cap. 13.

[Page] HEere you haue heard tolde howe that after the Emperour had read the scrowle of parch­ment that was written and laide vnder the pillowe at the head of the dead bodie of the Ladie Herea, how he returned to prosecute his iourney which he had taken in hand for the defence of the faire Lidia, and howe that they did im­barke themselues in their Galley, and the sea béeing pacifi­ed of that boistrous tempest which they receiued in their last voyage, the Gallie satled forwards with a verie good and prosperous winde the space of thrée dayes without meeting with anie aduenture. In the ende whereof they landed at the Iland of Otonio, which by another name is called Citarea, which straight waie was knowen by that faire Ladie to bée the Iland where her beloued Brenio was, and she sayd vn­to the Emperour. Lorde, this is the Ilande that keepeth hid from me the whole comfort of my heart. So straight waye the Emperour went a lande and tooke with him the fayre Lidia, and commaunded that his horse and his Speare, and the Ladyes palfra [...]e shoulde likewise be [...]aken out of the Galleye, and when the Emperour hadde well perused his armour, he armed himselfe, and tooke the waie which lead him towards the Castell, leauing on the right hande the famous Temple, which from farre did shew the greate sumptuousnesse thereof, in the gate whereof they did disco­uer and sée an armed Knight, who contemplated himselfe in beholding the greatnesse of that Knight. But the Empe­rour had no care to knowe who it was, but with greate hast they went forwards on their waie, and when they drew nigh vnto the Castell, it séemed vnto them to bee the fairest that euer they had seene, and as the Emperour proceeded to goe vp the hill towarde the Castell, hée hearde one which with a greate voice sayde. O thou Knight of the Diuell or of death, goe no farther vp, but tarrie a little, for by her which thou doest bring with thée I doo vnderstande thy de­maunde, staie a while and I will be straight waie with thée, for I thinke that thou hast alreadie repented thy comming [Page] hether. The Emperour who heard these wordes, would ve­rie faine haue seene him who spake them, and lifted vp his eyes towardes the Castell, but he coulde beholde no bodie. But hée tarried not long, when that out of a narrowe waie comming downe the hill he sawe a great Gyaunt, shaking in his hande a heauie Speare, and when he came to the place whereas the Emperour abode, he sayde. Knight, tell me, art thou the Emperour of Grecia or any of his sonnes. The Em­perour aunswered and sayde, I am he (who by the helpe of God) may frustrate thy force which thou hast done vnto this Damosell. Then the Gyant sayd, O miserable wretch, how thou art deceiued, what doest thou thinke thy selfe so strong and to haue so much strength to doe that alone, which all the worlde is not able to vndoe, and with greate anger for the wordes which he heard the Emperour speake, he tooke his Speare and did leuell it in his hande, and threwe it at the Emperour with such furie, that the aire did sounde therwith, the Emperour made his defence and receiued it vppon his shéelde, and the point slidde in such sort, that it glaunced and broke in two péeces. When the Emperour sawe that hee threw it at him dart wise, he tooke his Speare fast in his hande, and firming himselfe in his stiroppes he raised vp his bodie and threw his Speare against his enimie with greate strength, who would haue receiued it vppon his sheelde, but the furie was such wherewith it was throwen, that it pear­ced both through his shéelde and likewise the bodie, that the head was seene come out at the Gyauntes backe, the which terrible blowe béeing séene by them which were in the Ca­stell, was the occasion that there arose a greate vproare therein. The Emperour gaue thankes to God for this short victorie, and tourned himselfe vnto the Page which came with Lidia, and bad him take the Speare out of the Gyants bodie and bring it vnto him, for that it was whole, which presently the Page accomplished. Hée hadde no sooner re­ceiued it, but hée sawe presently to descende out of the same path waie another great and huge Gyaunt, which séemed [Page] to be no lesse furious then the first. He came mounted on a a very strong and mightie horse, (for he had neede to be of a great strength, in that he did sustaine the carriage of so mightie a monster as the Giaunt was) and when hée was come whereas the Emperour abode, he looked whether the other Giaunt were altogether dead or not, but when he saw there was no life in him, and that by that onelye blowe hee was slaine, he said: ‘Is it possible mightie brother, that a thing so vile as this is, hath had power so quickly to [...]laye thée. And tourning vnto this noble warriour, he said: Tell me Knight of so wonderfull a courage, what diuell hath brought thee hether, to doo vs so much harme, as the Gods themselues were not sufficient to haue done. The Emperor replied, The Ladie which thou séest héere, brought me hether, to deliuer and set at libertie a knight, which without all reason thou doost kéepe in thy Castle, and which with great treason thou broughtest hether. Of truth I tell thée Giant, that it seemeth very euill in such Knights as thou arte, to commit such outrages, for that nature hath not bestowed on thée these well proportioned members, nor giuen thee a bo­die of so mightie a greatnesse, for to exercise it in dooing of so great wrongs, as you doo daily practise. I therefore doo de­sire thee, by y^e honour which I owe vnto the order of knight­hoode, and for that thy disposition doth greatlye content me, that thou wouldest make satisfaction vnto this faire Damo­sell, the which onely I am come to demaund of thée, & like­wise that thou wouldest apart thy selfe from these wicked customes: otherwise, beléeue this of a certaintie, that euen as thy brother was slaine with so small a blow, (not béeing by my weake arme killed, but onely by his great tyrannie con­founded): so likewise if thou dost pretend to lead this tiran­nous life, as thou hast hethertoo done, beléeue me the lyke death will happen vnto thée. Tourne and repeate that once againe which thou hast saide (aunswered the Gyaunt) per­haps thy words may winne me to doo somewhat of y^t which thou doost request me, although not altogether. Hast thou me in derision thou vile beast (sayd y^e Emperour) thou shalt soone [Page 73] vnderstand that I knowe better how to bestowe my sword vpon thy bones and flesh, then againe to declare that which thou doest demaund, for that I doo see my reasons do little a­uaile, and that I vtter in vaine my spéeches vnto thee, & thou shalt soone see that the sharpnesse of my Speare shall bée no lesse bitter vnto thee, then it was vnto thy late brother:’ and in saying these wordes they retourned their horses the one from the other, like the swift winde, and when they were one straight against the other, both of them stroke theyr hor­ses with the spurres, and bare [...] theyr speares verie lowe, in such sort that neither of them fayled of their blowes, the gy­aunt stroke the Emperour in the middest of the sheelde, and by reason of the greate strength thereof, the stroke glaunced on the one side, and the Speare sprong vp in the ayre with­out dooing anie harme, but the Emperour chaunced to strike him vnder his shéeld where he was a little open, so that the point of his speare entered into his bellie, and if his Speare had not bene somewhat blunt, with the blow he gaue to the other Gyaunt, he had at this time finished the battaile, but with great hast both of them layde hands on their swords, and tourning theyr horses there beganne a cruell and fierce battaile. The Gyaunt with the greate paine that he had of the hurt which he receiued, felt himselfe verie ill, so that his anger did the more increase, and trauesing his horse from the one part vnto the other, procured by all meanes to hurt the Emperour, who was not at that instaunt idle, but according vnto his accustomed valiauntnesse auoyded his blowes, and smote at him such furious and heauie strokes, that hée made the bloud to followe in what place so euer he chaunced with his sworde to hit, and with the great paine that the Gyaunt felte, there procéeded from his helme a verie thicke and hot smoake, his furie and anger was so much to see himselfe be­stowe so manie blowes, and not one of them coulde hurt his enimie, he threw his sheelde from him to the earth, and tooke his swoorde in both his handes, and verie fiercely stroke his horse with his Spurres, which made him to leape the­ther where as this worthie warriour was, and without [Page] anie defence he stroke him such a blowe vppon the healme, that he made him to dec [...]ine his head to the mane of his horse, and béeing troubled with that great and cruell blowe, his horse carried him a while héere and there about the field. The terrible and fierce Gyaunt would haue giuen him the second blowe, but he could not, for that the Emperour was come againe to himselfe, and being setteled in the sad­dle, he firmed his swoorde fast with both his handes, and be­ing incensed with greate anger and furie, insomuch that fire flashed out at both his eyes, he strake his horse with his spurres, and thrust himselfe forward, saying: Tarrie, tarrie thou furious beast, for that I meane to reuenge my selfe of the blowe past that thou gauest mée, and without delay send thy dampned soule deseruedly to the diuell of hell, and ther­with he stroke the diuellish Gyaunt such a blowe vpon the helme, that he made it sound like a bell, and he without anie remembraunce fell downe backwards vppon his horse crou­per, the blowe was so terrible and deliuered with so greate strength, that the bloud started out both at his eies and at his nose. And as the Emperour would haue turned to haue stro­ken him againe, he heard one with a great noise that called aloude and sayd: Stand still vile knight and hold thy hands, except thou wilt die the death. The Emperour lifting vp his head to see who it was that with so great arrogancie threat­ned him, beheld another Giant which descended downe from the Castell, of a greater stature, and séeming to be of more strength and furie then the other two, which by reason of his greatnesse was faine to goe on foote, for that there was no horse able to beare him. When the Emperour sawe a thing so monstrous comming towards him, he said with an angry voice: Cursed he that euill and diuellish generation from whence such monsters doth procéede, if it please God I will doe my best to abate this thy courage, and in this time the Gyaunt was come to himselfe and rose vp againe, and was prepared against the Emperour, who seeing him so nigh, with purpose to strike him, tooke the aduauntage, and stroke first, with such an ouerthwart blowe, that by the force ther­of [Page 74] it cut his throate, necke and all, so that the head fell downe to the earth, and the bodie also like the corner of a great ca­stell. This other Gyant seeing his brother dead in such sort, cryed out reuiling his Gods, and with blaspheming of all creatures▪ hee descended downe the hill, and drew out his huge and mightie sworde, pressing towards the Emperour, with such furie, as commonly the fierce Lyon doth after his praie, which béeing wel perceiued by the Emperour, he auoi­ded a little on the one side with his horse, & lighted in greate hast, and with his accustomed courage hee went to méete the Gyant, who was readie with his sword in his hand, & came & stroke at the Emperour a mightie blow, which he receiued vpon his shéeld, that did then deceiue him, and by reason ther­of it fell downe vpon his healme, and made him s [...]oope with both his knees to the grounde, loosing somewhat of his sight by force of that furious blowe. The Emperour seeing that it was not then time to sléepe, and that the Gyaunt had his swoord ouer him to strike him againe, he béeing somewhat troubled, stepped aside and cléered himselfe from the fall ther­of, and therwith preased to the Gyant before he could againe recouer his terrible swoorde, to bestow on him a blow core­spondent to his rage, and stroke him vpon the arme, but by reason that the Emperour was not wholy come to himselfe of the former blow he receiued, he could not repaie him with his whole strength as his heart desired, or as he would if hee had ben come to himselfe, notwithstanding it was not so lit­tle, but that his sword cut his arme to the bone, wherwith he was so sore hurt that he could not lift his sworde from the ground, with the paine whereof the Gyant did feele himselfe verie ill, and was constrained to chaunge his sword into his left hand, with the which he stroke blowes verie much out of order. In this time the Emperour stroke at him so terry­ble and thicke, that it did almost amaze him, & when the Gi­ant sawe himselfe so ill intreated, he began with a terryble voice to call for helpe of his people from the Castell. The which béeing vnderstoode by the valyaunt and heroycall Emperour, he sayd: no thou traitour, for neither thy strength [Page] nor thy Gods, nor thy people shall deliuer thée, but thou shalt die by my handes, and therewith hée stroke at him the faster and with more courage, but within a small time af­ter he sawe descending from the Castell another mightie gy­ant, and in his company more then fortie knights, who with greate showting descended downe the hill, the which beeing séene by the worthie Trebatio, he was perswaded certainly that there hee shoulde dye. And although he was somewhat wearie of y^e great trauaile which had passed, yet hée purposed to sell his lyfe verie déere, determining that they should paie well for it before he lost it. Then all they which descended from the Castell did compasse the Emperour rounde about, and stroke him on euerie side without mercie or pittie, who­soeuer had bene there to haue séene this worthie warriour, should haue had iust occasion to saie that there was the va­liant Emperour Trebatio, the flower of all knighthoode, for that he alone defended himselfe against his enimies, in that great extremitie, and if those gyants had not so pressed vpon him, he had estéemed y^e other knights verie little, but it were the gyants that did most trouble and molest him, neuerthe­lesse he that did come in the daunger of his blowes, might thinke himselfe bewitched or to haue euill fortune, for either he was slaine or else maimed, or beaten downe to the grounde, but yet all this valour that he vsed little profited him, except hée did first procure to destroie these two diuel­lish Gyauntes, who through their might brought him into great perplexitie, making him sometimes to decline with his handes to the earth, and at other times also to stagger heere and there. And these shamelesse people by the impor­tunate noise of their Lordes, procured on euerie side to hurt and molest the Emperour, and with the same noyse there descended from the Castell more then thrée score persons, be­sides them that were there before. But when the Emperour Trebatio sawe himselfe so euill intreated and beset on euery side round about, he called vppon the name of God, and desired him of pardon for all his sinnes, and that he would haue mercie on his soule, for that he thought verily there to [Page 75] end his life, and therwith he encouraged himselfe a new, and gathered such strength to his heart, that what with the iust quarrell he had, and the great anger he conceiued, hee gaue vnto that Gyant (who had called for succour) such a terrible blowe vpon the wast, that for all the greate force of his ar­mour, it had almost parted him in two péeces, wherewith hée fell dead at his féet. And at the verie same instaunt hée stroke one of the knightes such another blowe vpon the helme, that he diuided both it and his head downe to the shoulders. The other Gyant when he sawe such meruailous blowes, began to exclaime out against Mars, reuiling him, that he had be­stowed so much strength and force on one knight, to declare such prowesse as there the Emperour shewed. The rest of the knightes were somwhat afraide of that which they had séene done, and durst not prease so nigh as before they did, yet by reason of the great feare they had of the Gyant, they did not let greatly to molest and trouble him, and they preased vpon him in such wise that he waxed wearie, so that his good heart and noble courage wold little preuaile him, but that he must néedes be ouercome and slaine. The sad and sorrowfull La­die Lidia when she sawe the Emperour in such great perplex­itie, with crossing and wringing her hands, and with bitter wéepings she sayd.

‘O most vnhappie and vnfortunate wretch that I am, it had bene much better that I alone had suffered these my paines and passions, then that this noble Emperour should loose his life in my quarrell, which will be the occasion of ve­rie much sorrowe and great tribulation vnto the most high and noblest ladie in the world. O famous knight of the Sun, oh renowmed Rosicleer, what may you saie when you shall heare that for my cause your father that worthie Emperour should be slaine, it had ben better for me (miserable as I am) to haue bene transported into a plant as Daphne was, & not to haue caused that for my comfort so much harme should be done, vnlesse it had pleased y^e Goddesse Iuno to make an euer­lasting memory of this my true and perfect loue, as she did by Celos in so many Nymphs, of whom vnto this daie their [Page] memorie doth surmount the high Throne of their celestiall seates. Oh noble Emperour, who by thy surpassing excellen­cie hast brought thy selfe to die amongst barbarous people, whereas without all hope of anie helpe, or anie respect of thy mightie estate, thou must receiue the death. Héere I do make a vowe, that before death doth depriue thée of this great va­lour and strength, to destroye my selfe in recompence of the great wrong that I haue committed against thée.’

The valiaunt Rosicleer which at that time God and good fortune had brought into y^e place, did cause hir to cease this hir sorrowful lamentation. If you do remember, this is the bat­tell I tolde you of, whereas I lefte Rosicleer beholding the great wrong and outrage that so many did against one onely knight. And likewise he did consider the surmounted prow­esse which that one knight vsed, and because he was armed with contrarie armour, he could not know who it was, and much meruailing at that he sawe, without anie more tarry­ing, he lighted from his horse and laide hand on his swoord, & with great furie and anger he pressed in amongst these false knights, and the first that he did encounter with, was y^e dis­ordinate Gyant, to whom he lent such a blow vpon the legge that he cut it a sunder, and with the force thereof he hurt the other legge by the knée, in such sort that he must néedes fall to the ground, not being able by any strength to sustaine or helpe himselfe. The Gyant séeing, & to his paine féeling so furious a blow, cryed with a loude voice, saying: Upon them valiant warriours, for they are of no force nor abilitie to re­sist, at which noyse the Emperour tourned his head aside, and sawe whereas the Gyaunt laye all along on the earth, by force of that most terrible and cruell blowe. Also hée sawe howe this noble knight besturred himselfe amongest the rest of the Gyauntes knightes, which was a valyaunt sight to bée séene, wherfore he remained a good while in be­holding and viewing him, till at the last he knewe him to bée his worthie sonne, euen that renowmed and inuinci­ble Rosicleer. I néede not héere to declare the excéeding great [Page 76] ioye and comfort which this worthie Emperour receiued in seeing him, and especially at such a time beeing in great neede and necessitie, for of long time before that hée had not seene him, neither had he thought euer to haue séene him after that time anie more, if at that instant hee had not come vnlooked for, in y^t he coulde not choose but to haue bene slaine by those barbarous and vnciuile people. Then gathering vnto him­selfe newe strength and courage, he pressed in amongst those false and wicked knightes, in such sorte that they beganne to runne awaie, as well because they sawe their Lordes and Captaines slaine, as also for that they coulde not in anie wise abide the terrible blowes of the Prince. So these two valiaunt warriours besturred themselues, that they were constrained in hope to saue theyr liues to tourne their backes, and tooke the waie vp the hill towardes the Castell, but this valiaunt Rosicleer followed them with so greate lightnesse, that before they came halfe waie vp the hill, hée had slaine the greater parte of them. Then the rest which sawe themselues so euill intreated, tourned altogether and pressed on him in such sorte, that by theyr force they hadde almost constrained him to tumble backwarde downe the hill, at which hée was meruailously wroth, and therewith like a couragious Knight hée pressed amongest them with so much furie, that with cutting off armes and heads, hée made them lesse then they were by the one halfe. The Em­perour by reason of his great wearinesse and trauaile which he sustained, remained at the foote of the hill whereas the first incounter was, but when he heard the moouing and ru­shing of the people, hée tooke the waye vp the hill with so great lightnesse, as though the battaile had but then begun, and after him followed the fayre and beautifull Lidia, but when the Emperour came in sight, he beheld how the Prince with great courage followed after those wretched people euē to the gate of the Castle, for they thought to saue themselues if they might by anie meanes get in at the gates, pretending to make it fast vnto them, but this valiant Greeke pursued them with so great swiftnesse that they had no time to ful­fill [Page] that, which they hadde determined, for at such time as they would haue shut the gates, he approched them and di­sturbed their desire with cutting and hewing them, in such sort, that he entered into the Castell in spite of their heartes, and those that were within would haue made resistaunce at such time as he was in the great Court, but this valiaunt Prince did threaten them, saying.‘O you wicked & contenti­ous villains yéeld your selues prisoners, for be certainly per­swaded you shall finde more in me by humilitie thē by ma­king resistaunce.’ There was one knight which remained, and hauing more ciuilitie then the rest, aunswered and sayd.

‘Ualyaunt Knight, if we hadde thought euer to haue found in thée so much mercifull clemencie, as wée haue found mightie courage, verily long since we wold haue yéel­ded our selues: now therefore we doe desire thée if there bée in thée anie iot of pittie, to manifest thy clemencie vnto vs, for considering wée were seruauntes vnto those Gyauntes, we were by duetie bound to defend them, and on the contra­rie to our powers, offend you. Then this noble prince promi­sed them their liues, conditionally that they should yéeld and surrender themselues.’ In this time the Emperour letted not to inlarge his pace for to come to the aide and defence of the Prince, but when he came thether, he found that he was in quiet, & that all those that were left in the Castle requested peace, and when the Emperour sawe that it was then time to discouer himselfe, full of great ioy he fell vppon Rosicleer his necke, and sayd.

‘Oh my sonne, I did well vnderstand that in the time of my greatest necessitie, that thou wouldest neuer deceiue me, with greate reason I may call thée my fortunate sonne, not for that thou wert borne in a good daie, but also that loue did cause so greate affection to thy mother, of whome hath procéeded such finite as thou and thy brother.’ Nowe of this worthie Prince what shall I saye, that with verie ioye he was almost beside himselfe when he heard his Fa­ther the Emperour speake, for by the sounde of his voyce [Page 77] he did know him. So straight waye the Emperour pulled of his helme, wherewith this valiaunt Rosicleer was fully re­solued and without all doubt. When he sawe the maiestie of his regall countenaunce, and his bearde adorned with some royall white haires, his face somewhat high coloured, by re­son of the great trauaile he receiued in his late battailes, in the which he showed his great power, and the prowesse of the progenie from whence he did procéede: his sonne bow­ed downe his knées to the earth, and lifted vp the visour of his healme, and kissed the Emperours hands, bathing them with the teares, that fell from his eyes, which was forced by his heart, for the great ioye which he receiued. The Em­perour tooke him by the hand, & raysed him from the ground with great loue. If I should héere declare the rest of the ex­tremities, that passed in this their ioyfull méeting, it should be very tedious vnto the hearers, therfore I doo remit it vnto such a father, whose lot it is to haue good children, & therwith their like helpe in necessitie. So without making any more delay, the Emperour would haue deliuered out of prison the Knight of this faire Lidia, the which being vnderstoode by them of the Castle, they straight waye brought him before the Emperour, with many other moe, which were pertakers with him in the succour of the Lady. These Knightes alto­gether gaue great thankes vnto the Emperour, for y^e friend­ship he had shewed them, in helping them out of this theyr terrible imprisonment. And thus they remained in great ioy and pleasure, as well the Emperour for the sight of his son, as also all those which were prisoners, for the good successe, that they had, but especially and aboue all the rest, was the ioye of Lidia, which with the contentment that she receiued to sée hir Brenio in hir companie, so that she was almost ra­uished of hir wits: but in the countenaunce of the Knight, it appeared by his outward showe, that he receiued no plea­sure: the which being vnderstoode by this faire Lidia, not knowing the cause whereof it should procéede to mooue him therevnto, all hir great ioye and delight, was tourned into despaire.

[Page]Then the Emperour commaunded those of the Castle, that they should giue him somewhat to eate, and likewise to all the rest which were taken out of prison: vnto him for the great trauaile which he had passed in this battaile, and vnto the rest, for that they had great néed thereof. So it was straight way made ready, and that in very good order, and they all sate downe together, at the Emperours table. So when they had almost dined, and that they were well refre­shed, the Emperour tolde vnto Rosicleer, who that King was which he had séene in the waggon, & the occasion there­of: for the which he desired him that no other aduenture should be the occasion to let him, but to goe straight vnto Constantinople, and to take in companie with him Brandi­mardo, and procure that the Lady might be restored againe vnto her kingdome, vsing all your diligence to giue hir him to wife: for that the noble Prince is worthye of no small honour. And héere my sonne I doo professe vnto thée, that a more beautifull Ladie in all my life I haue not séene, but onely the Empresse Claridiana. Also if that fortune doo so serue, that thy brother the Knight of the Sunne, come to those parts, thou shalt will him, that he doo not mooue nor de­part from those parts, for any kinde of aduenture that shall succéede, till such time as I doo retourne, for that nowe at this present I cannot retourne, for that I haue sworne and giuen my word. So there he tolde vnto them all the histo­rie of that infortunate Herea: at the which all they present receiued great sorrowe, sauing onely Brenio, which séemed that he receiued neither pleasure nor ioy. So when the boord was voyded, Rosicleer tooke his leaue of the Emperour his father, and leaped vp on his horse, and tooke the way which led him whereas he left his boate. He was no sooner entred into it, but it began to make way, and sailed with so great swiftnesse, that the third day he arriued at Constantinople, whereas at this present we will leaue him.

¶How the Ladie Lidia talked with her Knight Brenio, who was verie sad, demaunding of him the cause of his discō ­tentment: & of other accidents. Cap. 14.

[Page 78] HEere you haue heard of the great discon­tentment that Brenio did showe, at such time as he came out of the prison, and in how short time, the ioye that Lidia recey­ued, was tourned into sorrowe and sadnes: and that she could not demaund to knowe the occasion, by reason of the company that was there: so she was driuen to passe all that daye with bitter sorrowes, and anguish of minde, and without all comfort, till such time as the night approched, thinking y^t when she was alone with him whom she loued more then her selfe, to aske of him the occasion of all his paine. Thus hir desire being brought to passe, this false Brenio did vncloath himselfe, and the time that he was making vnreadie, he neuer lefte wéeping, till such time as he was layd in his bed. This faire Ladie lea­ning with hir brest vpon the bolster, ioyned her hands with his, and said.

‘My swéete Brenio, what thing hath caused thée, thus a­gainst the firme loue that I haue towards thée, to shewe thy selfe so sad, as it doth appeare by thy heauie chéere: turne my loue, and showe a ioyfull face, and giue me some com­fort with thy smiling countenaunce, & let my troubled hart receiue some ease, of that vnmeasurable sorrowe which I haue sustained, during the time that these vnknowen and traiterous people, haue kept thée in prison and absent from my sorowfull sight. What is this my swéete Brenio, hast thou seene in me any occasion to dissolue this faithfull loue which I beare thee? Let the great trauaile, sighs & sorrowes mooue the which I receiued to finde out the Emperour, and bring him to set thee at libertie: and if this be not suffici­ent, consider with what great loue I haue passed many sor­rowfull wayes and terrible stormes, for to attaine thy pre­sence, as now I doo. And héere I doo sweare vnto thée by the true & faithfull loue, which caused me so sorowfully to wéepe being on the déepe sea, that if I the infortunate Lidia be not acceptable in thy heart. Onely for that I will not displease th [...], I will with myne owne proper handes open this my [Page] louing brest, and sprinkle the bloud therof round about these thy ingratefull feete Oh what paine and sorrow was in the heart of this faire Lidia, when she spake these wordes vnto her ingratefull Brenio, and yet not one of all hir sorrowes was sufficient to cause him to shewe anie kinde of comforte vnto her.’ With these and such like extremities, the night passed away, and when the lightnesse of the daye had entred in at the windowes of the chamber, he arose from his bed, and likewise this sorrowfull Ladie, which had passed all the night, with heauie wéepings, and sorrowfull sighes, without putting of hir clothes, in such sort she went out and follow­ed him.

The Emperour was then risen and readie, and was put­ting all things in order that was necessarye to pacifie and make quiet the people of the countrie: the which was done with great ease, when it was knowen that their Lords wer dead, whom they did without all measure hate, for that they were so great tyrants: and foure great Cities, beside manye other faire townes and villages, did yéelde and surrender themselues vnder his iurisdiction. The Emperour caused them to sweare to receiue Rosicleer as their true Lord, and they to be his faithfull subiects, and with them likewise all the whole dominion, the which they did with a verye good will: and the Emperour appoynted a gouernour amongest them, to gouerne all the land. All this béeing finished, and that the Ilande was in peace and quietnesse, he commanded to make readie two galleyes, the one for the faire Lidia and hir Brenio, and the other for his owne person, for that hée would depart for Africa. So all things was prouided pre­sently in good order, and being readie, the Emperour com­maunded the faire Lidia to imbarke hir selfe, and to carrye with hir hir Knight, who straight waye went aboorde the galley, and commaunded the marriners to take their course towards Spaine. Likewise the Emperour did take his leaue of all them of the Castle: who for his noble customes and valiaunt Knighthoode, after that they knewe who he was, they both feared and loued him with all their hearts. And [Page 79] when he was imbarked in the galley, he commaunded the marriners to take the way towards Africa.

What is he that could signifie by any reason the small contentment and ioye, that the faire Lidia receiued, in behol­ding the lad and melancholike countenaunce that hir Brenio continually shewed: who without speaking any word, say­led on till they found themselues in the Ponticke sea, wher­as continuallye it is accustomed with his furie, to terrifie those, which doo nauigate that way. So there arose a migh­tie and great tempest, which was such, that it caused y^e g [...] ­ley to tumble and tosse from the one parte to the other, in great perill and daunger. Thus they remained three dayes & three nights in this great danger, & the fourth day they wer driuen a land, at a small Ilande vninhabited, that was called Rees. This Ilande was hid in the sea very farre from anye lande, and was poynted with very great rockes. Ther they came to an anker with their galley, and for to refresh and ease themselues of their great trauaile which they had pas­sed, they went a lande, and commaunded to raise vp a fayre Tent which they brought with them, and therein they made a bed, whereon Brenio laye downe to ease himselfe: and this faire Lidia leaned on the bed side by him, and was som­what in quiet, for that she sawe that the sadnesse of her Knight was a little abated. And by reason of the great paine and dolor that she had receiued, and the vnquietnesse in the tempest: and againe, for the contentment she had, to sée her Knight in better quiet, her wearied body required some rest, in such sort, that as she was leaning on the beddes side, she fell a sléepe. This false Brenio when he sawe her at rest and in a sound sleepe, in great secret he arose from the bedde, and went vnto the waters side whereas he had lefte the galley, and entering therein, he commaunded all those that were a­lande to imbarke themselues, and to hayse vp the sayles, and wold not by any meanes tarry, til that the seas were calme, but rather did put himselfe in y^e peril of these furious waues, then to inioye the swéetnesse of this faire Damosell: and lefte her all alone, in this desolate and vnpeopled Ilande. [Page] Oh Neptune that gouernest [...]he seas, let loose thy furious & outragious waues, and sinke so vnnaturall and inhumaine a Knight, and suffer him not to liue, that vncourteously did leaue this louing Lady in this distresse, who for his deliue­rie had put her selfe in all this trouble. This sorrowfull la­die still sléeping, dreamed, that there was a great and fierce wilde man, which stood before her, with a very sharpe sword in his hande, making as though he would kill her, and shée was so troubled with the great feare that she receiued, that she gaue great shril [...]es, and called vnto her Brenio for aide & succour, and as she thought, with his handes he stopped his eares, for that he would not heare her, and séemed that hée would not mooue himselfe in any respect. This dreaming la­die seeing this, determined to make her owne defence so well as she could, it séemed vnto her that there appeared before her a Centaure, which said, feare not faire damsell, for I am come hether to aide & succour thée: yet for all that, this wilde man did not let to strike her vpon the breast, and as it sée­med to her, her breast was all open, and how that the Cen­taure put his hand into the wound, and pulled out hir heart, and threw it at the wilde man, and sayd, Take vnto thée this heart, y^t without all consideration loued a man, which with such ingratitude hath rewarded her. So straight at the same instant there appeared a Knight, which likewise layd holde on the heart with the wild man, and they two striued great­ly betwéene themselues with much contention, who shoulde pull the heart out of the others handes: but in the end, each of them remained with his péece in his hand, and the hearte parted in two. So the péece which remained in the power of the wilde man, tourned into a harde stone, and that péece which remained in the power of the knight, tourned into red bloud, and being in this great perplexitie, this sorrowfull la­die did awake, thinking to haue tolde this terrible dreame vnto her beloued Brenio, but she found him not in place, and tourning her face to the other part, to sée if she coulde sée him, but she could neither behold him, nor any other person, of whome she might enquire. Wherewith she leaped from the [Page 80] bed, and with a loud voyce, she began to call for hir Brenio: but all was in vaine. So with a swift pace she went down to the waters side, thinking to haue found him there. But at her comming thether, she found neither him nor any other person, neither the galley which brought them thether. Then she looked to sea wards, to sée if she could disouer any thing, but she could see nothing but water, which was the occasion that she made great lamentation. And being verye hoarce with the terrible shrike which she gaue, shée went vp vpon a little rock which was nigh the waters side, from whence she did discouer the galley, in the which was her vnlouing Bre­nio, whereby she perceiued plainly how she was deceiued, & how she bestowed her affection, whereas was nothing but falshoode: although before time she could not perswade w^t her selfe, that so great treason remained in his heart. The great sorrowes and lamentations which this forsaken La­dy made, was sufficient to mooue the stones vnto compassi­on. Thus being wearie with lamenting, she sate her downe vpon the little rocke, and leaning her chéeke vpon her white hande, she fell in a great sound, in such sorte, that in a longe space shée moued neither hande nor foote, but when she came againe vnto her selfe, she bagan a new to make great lamen­tation, and did publish her paine with terrible shrikes, say­ing:‘Why was I not drowned in the Sea, that the fishes thereof might haue torne my bodie in péeces, or else to haue bene deliuered into the handes of tyrauntes, to haue vsed their tyrannie against me, that my heart might not haue felte this sorrowe, neither my eies haue séene this crueltie? O vnhappie chaunce, oh cruell fortune, why diddest thou not make mée to passe this bitter and sorrowfull life in my childhoode, in such sorte, that it hadde consumed me. Where­fore did the Gods permit and suffer mée to liue so long, it had béene farre better that I had dyed in my Cradell, and not to liue to sée my selfe in this greate affliction with­out all helpe: O you mountaines, O you wilde beastes, O you déepe sea, there is not in you anie sence to hinder me, but that I maye publish heere the greate disloyaltie of that [Page] traytor, who is the cause of all this my harme.’ O cruell and ingratefull fortune, I sée that héere plainly without all pittie, thou doost driue me to the death, and although y^e fault be others, yet thou doost apply the paine to be mine. And in this sort, with great griefe, the sorrowfull and vnfortunate Lady did torment hir selfe.

So likewise, by reason of the great tempest and torment of the sea, (whereof we before spake) there arriued nigh the same place, a Knight, with no lesse daunger, then the others that landed there before. The Pilot séeing that Aeolus had shut vp his windes, and made fast the gates in such sorte, that the sayle beate against the maste of the galley, that they were constrained by the force of oares to retourne a­gaine to sea. For that they did sée by all sea-faring tokens, that the weather would be troublesome: they did perceiue it also by the Cornesa, also by séeing the Dolphins, leaping and plunging in the sea, more then they were accustomed to doo. These and such like tokens the wise Pilot did consider off, who desired to take part where as hee might defend him­selfe from that terrible weather looked for. So with this great desire they stroke the water with their Oares, & with great furie they tormented their armes, to get to the lande: but the fatall Quéene Atrapos, would not consent therevn­to, for that at the houre when the troubled Moone, did extend hir beames vppon the face of the earth, and vppon the large and déepe Sea, then the winde Boreas began to blowe his blast, so that it constrained them of the galley to bring their saile to a bowe line, and to strike it very lowe, which made the vessell to tumble and roll from the one parte to the other, in such sort, that euerie time of hir tourning, all they that were in hir, thought to be drowned. Then the marriners thought good to strike and amaine their sayle, the which they did in great hast, and laboured to profite themselues with their oares and by the strength of their armes. But in the ende, when they sawe that neither sayle nor oares would profite them, they committed themselues vnto God, and lefte the Galley and all their goods vnto his gracious [Page 81] will, and the furie of water, which beganne presently to in­treate them in such sort, that it gaue them plainly to vnder­stand of their destruction. This was the Galley in which the Emperour departed in, at such time as the Ladie Lidia did take her leaue, wherein he tooke but small rest, alwayes la­bouring to aide and helpe whereas most necessitie required, in throwing out water which troubled them verie much, be­ing driuen by those mightie waues into the Galley. Thus were they tossed and tumbled all the night looking, euerie houre for death, at length the Sun appeared and shewed his golden face, whereby he did declare the cruell stormes & tem­pests which was past, and likewise gaue shew of that which was to come, by reason that it was darkned vpon a sodaine, and shewed a heauie chéere: so the windes began to arise & blew more and more, and the waues increased and rose of a great and huge height, beating vpon the galley with such vi­olent force, that being taken betwéene two billowes, the gal­ley brake a sunder in the middest. These sorrowfull marry­ners which vntill that time had trauailed and fought with the wind and sea to defend their galley & to saue their liues, were now constrained to striue with death, and indeauour with all their strengths by swimming for to come to the shoare, but all would not serue for theyr defence, for waxing wearie by the great force of the waters, béeing able no longer to indure, they yéelded themselues into the handes of God, and their bodies to the furie of the sea, wherein they finished theyr liues, the Emperour Trebatio being holpen by y^e migh­tie hand of God, vppon whom he alwaies called in his heart, desiring to deliuer him from so terrible a death, praieng him for the merits of that mightie mediator Iesus Christ, that he would succour and defend him, who of his wonted mercie heard him, & would not permit that he should perish, for y^t he laid hold of a boord which was broken from the galley, and made himselfe fast therto, though it were with some labour, neuertheles this distressed Emperour thought y^t the ende of his daies were at hand, for y^t the mightie waues kept him a great while vnder the water, & when hee discouered himselfe [Page] aloft, there came another great waue which stroke him with such violence, y^t it threw him vpon the shore, almost without any remembraunce, whereas I will leaue him amongest the shingles which were at the sea side, and of all that happened, I will tell you héereafter.

¶How the Emperour when he was recouered of the weari­nesse which he receiued by the great trouble of the sea, he trauailed in the same Iland, and how he met with certaine knights, with whom he had battaile, and what happened. Cap. 15.

O Mightie princes & valiant knights, and you excellent barons, & all you which finde your selues mounted vp in the triumph of felici­tie, & haue all the contentments & pleasures of this worlde, euen all you together, I dooe héere admonish, y^t you stand not too much in your owne conceits, neither be you negligent nor forgetfull, for y^t you know, or at the least you haue heard say of the so­daine and variable changes of peruerse fortune, who respect­eth no man, for vnto them which be most mounted & are in greatest prosperitie, vnto them she giueth y^e mightiest fall: let none shew himselfe proud nor vse anie crueltie, because he is in high estate, but rather in y^e authoritie let him vse all humi­litie: for héere you haue séene y^e great surmounted quietnesse & peaceable estate, in which the Emperour hath indured vn­till this present, & now you may sée vnto what an ebbe for­tune hath brought him, there he lay along vpon the sands a great while, vntil such time as the Sun had almost run thrée parts of his daily course before he came to himselfe, at which time he rather desired to die then to liue, cōmitting his soule vnto almightie God, whose only it was. The night drew on when y^t w^t his black mantell he procured to couer the bright­nesse of Apollo, at which time this emperour was somwhat refreshed of his passed trauaile, and arose vp, but he was all to be mired & full of sand, whereof he made himselfe cleane, [Page 82] in the best manner y^t he could, & began to take his way tho­rough a very narrow path, but he could not trauaile far, for that the night came so fast & it waxed verie darke, so that hée was constrained to seeke a place where he might rest him­selfe, for that he wold not loose the path wherinto he had en­tered, so he laide himselfe down vnder a broad pine trée, wher as he passed the most sorrowfull and afflicted night that euer knight indured: next vnto God he had great cōfort by means of his mightie courage, for to passe ouer all his aduersities, thus he passed all the night with great desire y^t the day wold come, & when the daie brake it séemed very faire & calme, and the aire appeared quiet, & he trauailed out onwards his way in that straight path, vntill such time as he came to a verye faire & delectable forrest, whereas sundrie chirping birds had gathered themselues together to refresh and shrowde them­selues from the parching of the Sun, yéelding verie delecta­bly diuers swéet notes. In this forrest, he trauailed wel nigh two houres, & then he went vp to a small mountaine which was at hand, from the which he discouered a very faire & wel towred citie, vpon the farther side whereof the sea beate a­gainst the faire & high walls, & towards that part wherevn­to the narrow way did lead, without y^e citie there was built a princely pallace very sumptuous to behold, & moted round about, which moat made a separation betwéene the citie and y^e pallace, there he receiued great pleasure to finde himselfe in a peopled country and of so goodly building, for that before he thought he had ben in a desart: likewise he discouered from y^e hill, a faire fountaine all wrought of Marble, piller like with a great bowle in the middest also of marble, out of which did procéed foure spouts running with water, which fell into a great sesterne, & comming vnto it he washed his hands and refreshed his face, and sate him downe by it vppon the gréene grasse, with a great desire to eat somewhat, but ther was no body to giue him any thing, so he rested himselfe vpon his el­bow, & what with the wearinesse of his way & with his hun­ger, & being very pensiue for his troublesome sorow, he fell a sléepe. Not long after ther came out of that faire pallaice cer­taine [Page] [...] [Page 82] [...] [Page] knightes which rode abroade to solace themselues, and by chaunce they came to the place whereas the Emperour was, and when they sawe him of so faire a fauour and of so goodly a stature, and to their thinking he slept without all feare or care, one of them sayde: Out of all doubt this is a knight of a straunge Countrie, and by his countenaunce and proportion, it seemeth that he is of some high lignage, & that peruerse fortune which alwayes is fickle vnto mankinde, hath caused him to come hether, & brought him to be in this estate. To the which aunswere one that was in companie, who séemed to be of greater estate then all the rest, sayde: that he doth rather séeme to bée some robber and théefe, and one that doth lead an ill life, more then a knight of prowesse, and that the sword which he weareth, he hath stollen from some trauailing knight, let me come and I will awake him out of his sound sléepe, and I will take this sword from him which doth not become him to weare, for it is not to be be­stowed on him, and without anie more delay he alighted off from his horse to séeke his owne death (as it fell out) for when he came to the Emperour, he pulled him by the beard with so much strength, that spite of his heart he did awake him, but when the Emperour awaked and sawe the hands of that villanous knight fast vpon his beard (which was full of haires) he with his left hand stroke him such a blowe vppon the breast, that he made him to recoile backe, and whether he would or no, he fell to the ground with the force thereof, and with great anger he rose vp, (not making anie outward ap­pearance of the great and incomperable trauaile that he had passed) he laide hand on his sword, and without tarrying till the other did arise, he stroke him such a blow vpon the head that he cut him downe to the breast, so that he fell downe dead to the ground, in this sort he gaue him his paiment for his great and vnseemely pride: these knights that came toge­ther were eight in number, but when the rest sawe y^t which the Emperour did, they prepared thēselues to fight, & lighting from their horses they laid hands on their swords, & wrapped their cloaks about their armes, & then began a cruell battel, [Page 83] but when this mightie Trebatio sawe himselfe so beset with the other seauen knights, he determined to sell his death ve­rie deere, or else to kill them all, and as you doo see the greedie Lyon ranging the Countrie with his haire bristeled, and ra­ging with great hunger to finde his praie: euen so the va­liant Emperour began to strike with his strong arme, flouri­shing with it in such sort, that on whom it chaunced to light, he had no néede of a Surgion to heale him. In a little space of the eight that were of them, there were foure of thē s [...]aine, and the rest were so scarred with his terrible and mortall blowes, that they durst not come nigh him. There was a lac­kie that came with them, which when he sawe this great de­struction of the knights, tooke the horse of one of them that was slaine, and in great hast he gallopped with him towards the pallace, crieng with a loude voice: Armour, armour, come knightes quickly and helpe, for that there is slaine the Earle of Modique his sonne, and all the rest that were with him, the quéene and Ladie of that Countrie, when she heard that great noise, she looked out of her closet, and asked who had done that murther, to whome the Lackie answered, that one onely knight vnarmed, whom they found a slape at the mar­ble fountaine, hath slaine them. These wordes caused great alteration amongest all them in the pallace, and in great hast they called for theyr armour to arme themselues, but this faire quéene asked farther of the Lackie, what was the occa­sion which these eight knightes offered, to cause that knight to attempt so hard an enterprise, who tolde and declared vn­to her all that you haue hearde, and when shée vnderstoode the whole circumstaunce, she commaunded straight that vp­roare to cease, and that there should other eight knights goe and procure to take and bring him prisoner, without dooing him anie harme, for that she was desirous to know what hee should be that was of so valiaunt courage and so greate a strength. So straight waie at the commaundement of the quéene these eight knights were readie and armed, and went to the place whereas they were still in battaile, and at such time as they approched, there was but two left of the eyght, [Page] that were first against him. And when those two sawe the other eight knightes comming, they stepped on the one side, & with a loude voice, cried. Knightes kill this diuell, kill this diuell, who in this sort hath intreated vs. When the Empe­rour sawe that there came other eight armed knightes a­gainst him, he could not but iudge himself to be in great dan­ger of death, for that he was vnarmed and without anie de­fence, yet for all that, his accustomed courage did not fayle him one [...]ot, but he put himselfe in defence with so great har­dinesse, as though he had ben armed with all his accustomed armour. Then one of the eight armed knights who would shew himselfe to be of a more courage then the rest, pressed forwards with his swoord in his hand and his shéelde on his arme, making shewe as though he woulde strike him, the Emperour did ward that blow on his swoord wheron it fell, and with his left hand he tooke so fast holde on his shéeld, and with so great strength, that he pulled it from [...] arme, and with great speede he couered himselfe therewith, and with a valiaunt stomacke sayd: Doo not thinke you disloyall and cowardly knightes to take me prisoner or doo me anie out­rage, first I hope to put you all to the point of any sword, or to die in my iust defence, but by reason that he spake to them in the Greeke tongue, they coulde not vnderstande him one word, wherefore forgetting that which the quéene had com­manded them, they striued with all their strength to kil him: the Emperour by reason of the fountaine had his backe de­fended, so that they were constrained to fight with him face to face, but he which by his hardinesse did seeme to prease for­wards more then the other, was straight s [...]aine or verie sore hurt. Amongst these knights there was another which was of a more hardier courage then any of the rest, who manye times did prease forwards, & had hurt this valiant Trebatio in two places, & although the wounds were not very great, yet it caused his aduersaries to haue the better stomack to as­sault him. This knight which had hurt the Emperour sawe well, y^t if euery one of the rest had done as much as he, y^t this vnarmed knight had ben s [...]aine, & with a loud voice he said: [Page 84] O ye Knights of Tinacria, how is it possible that one only knight, & without armour, hath brought vs into this ieopar­die and great extremitie, the which wordes he spake in the Tuscan tongue, and so with great hardinesse & mightie cou­rage he pressed forwards, but the Emperour who well vn­derstoode his wordes, stepped forwardes to receiue him, two steps more thē he did before, the which was done with great lightnesse, and followed his blow so hard, that y^e knight was constrained to receiue the blow vpon his healme, the which was giuen with so much strength and furie, that i [...] parted it in twaine with the head, & before that he could returne back againe into his standing, they hurt him in two or thrée pla­ces, but it was not much, but the Emperour as he recoiled, stroke two of them, & that with so much furie that they fell dead to the ground, the rest of the Knightes which remained were meruailously afraid, for that they had felt his mightie blowes, and [...]gaine with the sight of those that were s [...]aine before the [...]herefore they withdrew themselues backe so y^t his blows might not reach them. The Emperour séeing him­selfe at more quietnesse, retired to the place where hée fi [...]st was, by the fountaine, and there he remained in more safety beeing better able to make his defence, so there was left of all those sixtéene Knights, but seauen, of the which, thrée of them were more importunate then the rest, and dealte with him euen as a companie of small spaniels with a great ma­stiefe, who with their barking runne round about him both before and behinde, yet not daring to touch anie haire, but when they come before him, the mastiefe maketh thē afraid, and forceth them to runne awaie: so in the same sorte was the Emperour amongst his enimies, and béeing in this con­flict, they heard a great noise in the citie of making hast vnto armour, and anon they perceiued how y^e olde Earle did know of the death of his sonne, who by reason of the great sorrow & passion that he receiued was almost beside himselfe, & com­maunded to bring him his armour and his horse, on whom he mounted, and tooke in his hande a greate and mightie Speare, and rode foorth towardes the Fountaine whereas [Page] the Emperour was, and after this olde Earle issued out ma­nie of the people of the Citie, as well knightes as other Ci­tizens. The quéene vnderstanding all this vproare & tumult, fearing that by force of all those people, there should be slaine that knight, who amongst all other was worthie to liue for his great valour and knighthood, she determined to goe forth accompanied with all the nobilitie of her court, & with many faire Ladies and Damsells to aide and deliuer him from pe­rill, but before the quéene could come thether, the olde Earle was there whereas the Emperour was, but when he saw so many men there dead, and all by the force of one vnarmed knight, if it had not bene for griefe to sée his sonne lie slaine amongst the rest, and also the fatherly loue which did pro­uoke him to wrath, I promise you he wold haue ben the first that should haue procured to set him at libertie, for that hee thought it not possible there should so much valiantnesse rest in one knight and also vnarmed, against so [...] armed knights, except some of the Gods had descend [...] [...]wn to help him, but the great affection which the father ought to haue to his sonne, caused him with great showts & cries to prease in amongst the knights that were fighting, & to put them a­part, & likewise all the whole multitude y^t were there ioyned together, & with his speare in his hand he came to the place whereas the Emperour was, whom I will now leaue, for y^t the South winde blew in my eare, & hath constrained me to moue my purpose and returne to Constantinople, wheras y^e court of the Emperour remained in great sorow for y^e depar­ting of their Lord, whose carefull countenāce seemed to prog­nosticate y^e great daunger that the Emperour should be in, & if ther had not chaunced at that time to come to the court the wise Artemidoro, who did verie much comfort the Empres, in willing her not to torment her bodie with so many la­mentations and passions, for that in this his trauaile all things should fall out verie well and vnto his great honour, to whose wordes the Empresse gaue greate credite, other­wise shée would verily haue bene slaine with sorrowe. The Prince Clauerindo was hée which did most lament [Page 85] at the sorrowe of the Empresse, and determined to goe foorth in the quest of the Emperour, for that he accounted nothing to be grieuous to comfort the sorrow of the Empres, which would be mitrigated by the séeking of the Emperour. This secret determination came vnto the eares of the king of Sar­denia, and he declared vnto Clauerindo, that he would [...]eare him companie, who straight wayes determined together to take their voyage, and commaunded to make ready a fayre and strong ship. So without giuing any to vnderstande, in a night they imbarked themselues, and hoysed theyr sayles, and committed their ship thether, whereas Fortune woulde carrie her. The Empresse, although she receiued great dis­comfort by her béeing alone, yet she did dissemble it in the best wise she could, and did labour with great discretion to gouerne her Empire in quietnesse, thinking thereby to mi­tigate her griefe, for the absence of the Emperour. So one daye [...] in this sorrowe, there was heard a great rumor, which wa [...] [...] to proceede of great ioye and gladnesse. The Empresse hearing it, could not by anye meanes ima­gine what it should be, and being doubtfull, she sent one to knowe what it was, that caused that great tumult in the Court: but quickly she was resolued, and put out of all her doubt, for that it was giuen her to vnderstand, that the ioye was, because of the Prince Rosicleer, of whom I haue tolde you, who did then at that instaunt disimbarke himselfe at the waters side.

What should I héere speake of the great ioye which the Empresse receiued, I am not able fully to declare it, but it was in such sort, that for the great loue she did beare vnto the Prince, and againe for the great comfort which she re­ceiued in hir sorrowful minde, that with both her armes cast about his necke, she receiued him and imbraced him, with great ioye and contentment. Rosicleer did kisse hir Emperi­all handes with great humilitie. The Dutches was present at this méeting, who knewe very well Rosicleer to bee hée that did make such slaughter of her Knightes comming by the waye, and when she came vnto the Prince, she sayd. ‘[Page]Knight, I neuer thought to giue you so louing entertainment as now I doo, by reason that you did intreate me very ill, & all my people, and caused me to receiue great griefe: neuer­thelesse, the amends which I hope to haue of so worthye a knight, doth cause me to craue of you pardō for this my for­mer anger, for that the little knowledge and acquaintaunce I haue had of you, hath bene the principall occasion of my discourtesie.’ Then the Prince did call to remembraunce, that she should be the Lady which was in the Chariot, as well by her speaches, as by the apparell she wore, to whom he an­swered and sayd:‘Ladye, for your great griefe I am verye sorie, and surely I should receiue much more griefe, if occa­on should not fall out, wherein I might doo you seruice. Not for so much in that I owe by duetie vnto knighthoode, as it is to be at your commaundement: and more, it is the wil of y^e Emperor my father, to labor to obtaine you all the ease and contentment, that possibly I could: and therefore onely for this cause and purpose, he commaunded me to come vn­to the Court: so that whensoeuer you thinke it necessarye to put your necessitie in vre. I am héere ready at your com­maundement, to doo all that in your seruice is conuenient. And for that all things in your seruice shall be fulfilled in more ample manner, I will that the noble Brandimardo go with me in my companie, for that your defence shall bée the more certain. And although the attainment be neuer so dif­ficult▪ yet hauing him in my companye, I hope to make all things dead sure.’ Brandimardo rēdred vnto him great thanks and did accept his desire to haue him in his companie. The Quéene of Lira was not a litle ioyfull of this she heard, and gaue great-thanks both vnto the one and vnto the other, for their great courtesie showed, and sayde.‘Noble and valiant Princes, I doo conceiue very much ioye in this your great curtesies offered vnto me, touching the restoring me agayne vnto my kingdome: but in the meane time that you doo pretend to make me this restitution, and likewise in satis­faction of this great curtesie which you haue offered, I be­séech you to procure vnto me (hauing so good opportunitie, & [Page 86] none more worthier for this effect thē you, of whom I may receiue it) the order of Knighthood, which is the thing that I so much desire.’This she deliuered with so goodly a grace, that the Prince stoode and behelde her, and was much ama­sed at her meruailous beautie: and replieng vnto the words of the Quéene, he sayd. ‘Oh fortunate Empire, that shall bee gouerned by so valyaunt a Princesse, the order of Knight­hood, Lady, I know not how to giue it, for y^t it dooth wholy and altogether consist in you. There is nothing lacking but the girting on of the sword by the hands of some worthye Knight: but who is he that hath deserued to obtaine [...]o doo so worthie an act vnto so noble a Quéene, notwithstanding seeing at this present it is offered vnto mee, I will enioye the benefite of this great desert, although I well knowe my selfe, not worthy thereof.’And with this he tooke off his owne sword, and put it about the Quéenes necke, who with a meruailous and chéerefull countenance sayd, ‘I do receiue it by the hands of the best Knight of the world, and heere I doo returne it vnto you againe, for with it, I hope to be re­stored into the Kingdome of Lira.’And whiles she was sai­eng these words, he girte himselfe therewith againe. Then the Prince sayd. ‘Faire Lady, I haue this sword nowe in such estimation, that I doo beléeue no Knight maye estéeme more thereof, nor haue it in greater price, neither will I chaunge it for anie thing in all the worlde, and héere I doo giue you great thankes for this your curtesie, and desire of God spéedely to giue me occasion, that I may pay this great debt, in the which I am indebted. And for that I maye the better satisfie my desire, I doo request of you to graunt me a boone, which vppon my faith, I doo promise you, is the very first that euer I did demaund of Ladie▪ and that I protest by the honour I owe vnto the order of Knighthoode: Ueri­lie sayde the Qéenne, and it shall be the first that euer I graunted vnto anie Knight. And beléeue me it is vnto mee no small pleasure and contentment, that this my first grant should be giuen vnto a knight of so noble valour as you are, let it be therfore what it shall be, I will graunt it vnto you.’ [Page] And being resoning in this manner, they were cut off from their talke by the comming of the Empresse Claridiana, who brought leading by the hand, the Lady Oliuia, who came from her closet, whereas being together, they heard of the newes of the arriuall of the Prince. If Rosicleer did re­ceiue great pleasure when he did sée Oliuia, (vnto them that haue reason and discretion of vnderstanding, I leaue y^e con­sideration): so likewise he did much meruaile, at the great leannesse of Claridiana, for the which he was very sorrye, and with some reasons he did comfort her, as one y^t knewe all the secreat of her heart. All the whole Court receiued great ioye and pleasure for the comming of the Prince, and all the Knights and Gentlemen came to visite him. And be­ing dinner time they sate downe at the table, and at the end of the dinner, when that all was taken vp, they did deter­mine and thought it good, that out of hande they would pro­cure to giue battaile to the Gyaunts, vsurpers of the king­dome of Lira, and that the Quéene and the Dutchesse should remaine in the Court: and with this conclusion they com­maunded, that for the next daye, should be made readie, all that should be necessarie for their iourney. In the Court was made great lamentation and sorow, for that the prince wold so soone depart, & leaue it without anie knight of esti­mation or accompt to be made of: for that they were all de­parted in the Quest and séeking of their Lord and Empe­rour: whereas I will leaue them. And the Princes Rosi­cleer & Brandimardo going onwards in theyr voyage, left y^e Empresse with the gouernment of her Empire, and in her company the Empresse Claridiana, and the Quéene of Li­ra, and the Princesse Oliuia. Where let them rest, and now I will tell you of the successe of the two children of the great Alphebo.

¶How the two children of the great Alphebo, were stolne away, by the Giant Galtenor, and what after­ward did succeede of the same robbery. Cap. 16.

[Page 87] WIthin the wide and déepe sea, towardes the parts of India where the people are gouern­ed, vnder the Pole antarticke, and whereas the furious waters with their great waues & terrible noyse, with violent force doo make hollowe and vndermine the rockes, & strong defence of the port Palato, and the sumptuous citie of Sina, are two very faire Ilands, the one of them is called Trapo­na, a very great Iland and plentifull of all things, wherein raigned a knight of great fame called Delfo, which was not farre off from the other Iland, named Arguinaria, being like wise very aboundant of all kinde of vittailes, & very strong and was gouerned by a Giaunt called, Gedereon Brandem­bul, a very fierce man. His power and strength was such, that he was not onely feared of them of the Iland, but also of all other Kings and Knights, borderers and confines vp­pon his Iland. He was fifteene cubites in height, and his face very furious and wilde, and his strength surpassed the power of men. And aboue all he was very cruell, and had vsurped that land of another Giant, who by lineall descent should haue had the gouernment, whose name was called Galtenor. This was he, which in a Serpentine figure ente­red into the chamber of the Empresse Claridiana, and stole away her two children, for that he did knowe by his arte Magicke (in the which he was very cunning and expert) that he could not recouer his Iland, but by meanes of the young sonne, whereof the Empresse shuld be deliuered. For which cause he did steale them away in the forme as I haue tolds you, I say two young children newly borne. Then this Galtenor, hauing these two young infants in his power, tra­uailed onwarde his iourney, and ouerpassed all Greece, hée came vnto the vttermost partes and confines of Armenia. And approching vnto a Castle, by reason that the infants were out of quiet with hunger, he vsed the effect of his arte, and did inchaunt all them that were within the Castle, and depriued them of their wits, sauing onely one Lady, that was newly brought a bedde, whose childe straight dyed, to [Page] whome he did commende the two infants. And as at that time this faire Lady was not sufficient to giue them both suck for lacke of milke, he did by his arte likewise prouide a Liones, which had newly whelped, and a she Goat, which did helpe her with their milke, to the nourishing of these two infants. This Lady for the refreshing of the Infants, did aske license to vnswaddle them, which being graunted vnto her, she vnswaddeled the young infant out of his ritch clothes wherein he was, and in making cleane of his little bodie wi [...]h a fine linnen cloth, she sawe on his breast, a ve­ry fierie speare, at the which she was greatly amazed, & for this occasion they gaue him to name Claridiano, of y^e speare: and the other infant they called Rosaluira. So in this order as I haue told you, wer these infants nourished two yeres, with these their nourses, and euerye daye more then other their excéeding fairenesse and beautie increased, so that they seemed to be heauenly creatures. This Gyant did determin not to depart from that place, til such time as they came vn­to age, for that the countrey did lyke them very well. So they were there sixe yeres without remoouing from thence to any other place, in the which time these Infantes were so great of body that they séemed to be of a dossen yeres of age. Claridiano was of a meruailous and faire beautie, but the infant Rosaluira was without comparison, more then a­nie humane creature. Then Galtenor seeing that it was time to carrie them vnto Trapobana, he caused by his art to bée brought a Chariot, which was drawen by two great Gri­phons, and therein he put the children, and also their nourse: for that the children did crie pitifully for their nourse, and the nourse likewise shed many teares, and began to torment her selfe, when they should be carried awaye, and so béeing in the Chariot they trauailed, and left behind them Arme­nia, and the faire and white Albania, the great Sea of Cas­pro, and likewise Marmantina, the Gran Tartaria, with his surmounted seas, which is seperated from the great sea, they passed likewise by Armenia the great, and came vnto the head spring of Euphrates, which doth begin a hundred miles [Page 88] from Damasco, & is compassed about with two faire cities, y^• one of them to the Eastward called Ierosolima, & the other is scituated to the Ponents, called Sabiosca. Héere he caused his waggon to descend for to ease themselues, and that the children should take some refreshing: the which was done to the great contentment of them all: and being somewhat wearie of their iourney, the Gyant fell a sléepe, and so like­wise the nourse, who was called Formisa with Claridiano in her armes, who also was a sléepe, but Rosaluira was awake, and being apparailed with very rich apparell of white Da­maske, all spotted full of Iewells of golde and pearles, shée descended out of the Waggon, and with her faire yelowe haire, which séemed to be golde wiers, all hanging down be­hinde on her back, gardished about with very rich iewells, & without all feare she went vnto the riuers side, the which was beset on euery side with very faire Orchards and gar­deines, and all the fields garnished with diuers kindes of swéete flowers and gréene hearbes, which serued for the fee­ding of many shéepe, that were nigh at hand féeding by the riuers side. And she receiued such contentment, in these swéet delights, that before she was aware, she was very far from the place, whereas her brother and the rest were a sléepe.

There was nigh that place a shepheard, which kepte cer­taine shéepe, & with that exercise he passed his lyfe, (although with great miserie) and in a very poore and little cottage, who séeing that Infant all alone, and so gallantlye ador­ned with rich apparell, he drew néere the place whereas she was, and looked round about him towardes all parts, to sée if there were any that came after her to séeke her, or if shée had any kéeper: but when he sawe that there was no body, he tooke her by the hand, and the childe followed him with a verye good will, alwaies looking him in the face. The Shepheard spake vnto her in the Tartarian tongue, and the childe spake vnto him in the Chaldean tongue, and as­ked of him somewhat to eate, with a smiling countenance: this shepheard did partly vnderstand her & lead her vnto his house, and gaue her a dish of milke and sops of bread, and the [Page] childe being a hungred did eate it with a very good will. The shepheards wife, who was somewhat discréete, séeing the great riches, that this infant Rosaluira had about her, sayde, Husband, I do beléeue that this child is of some high lignage as it doth appeare by her apparell, and surmounted beautie. It shall be verye well, that we doo kéepe her héere till such time as we doo know what she is. For in kéeping and ma­king much of such a faire creature, cannot choose but redound vnto vs great profite. And if it so fall out, that we cannot learne nor know what she is, with this ritches y^t she hath a­bout her, we may bring our selues out of all trouble, and be more richer then any shepheard in all this Countrey. This shepheard receiued great ioye with the finding this childe, acknowledging all that which his wife had sayd vnto him, to be very good and well spoken: and so in great secret they kept her eight dayes, maintaining her in the best wise they could, with such meates as they were accustomed to eate, al­wayes hauing a great care, at all times when he went to Ie­roshlima, to demaund if there were any inquirie for such a childe, although he beléeued for a certaintie, that she was of some straunge Countrey, by reason of her apparaile, and dif­ferent language, which was an occasion that they put in practise their determined purpose: and laing all feare apart, they tooke from her, her rich apparrell, and put on shepheards apparell, as was accustomed amongest them, wherewith this childe was as well content, as with the other: and vnder that course raiment, she did discouer so great and surpassing fairenesse, y^t Diana was almost ashamed to extend her siluer beames, whereas this young feminine shepheard did walke, who alwayes carried in her hande a litle shepheards crooke, and following the shéepe whereas they did féed, many times with her golden haire about hir shoulders, being of so great beautie, that the glistering beames of Appollo passing tho­rough, appeared to haue no vauntage of it. The olde sheap­heardes wife did verie well intrate her, and made as much of her as she could, for that those iewells was the occasion of their great wealth. And againe this sheapheard was wise, [Page 89] for when he sawe himselfe rich of money, yet would he not begin to vse his wealth too spéedely, because he woulde not giue anie to vnderstand of his sodaine riches, but by little and little he did imploie it in buying more sheepe, in such sorte, that he came to be the richest shepheard in all that Prouince, accounting and esteeming of that childe more then if she had ben their owne daughter. Now let vs returne vnto the Gy­aunt that we left sleeping, who when he awaked and found missing the infant, was verie sadde, and tooke a booke, and beganne to make his accustomed coniurations to knowe where shée was become, but hee could not come to the know­ledge of her nor anie thing touching her, and when he sawe that he had not so much learning to knowe where this in­fant was, hée called to remembraunce the wise Ly [...]gandeo and Artemidoro, beléeuing surely that one of them had car­ried her awaie, and beeing in this belee [...]e, hée straight wayes without an [...] more tarrying went into his Wagon, and be­ganne againe to trauaile: but the greate sorrowe and lamen­tation that Claridiano made for the absence of his sister was verie gréenous to heare. Likewise the Nurse Formisa did beare him companie with manie teares and sorrowful sighs, but the Gyaunt caused them to holde their peace, and did comfort them in the best manner he could, and so trauailing he left behinde him the riuer Euphrates, the kingd [...]me of Sy­ria and of Babylonia, the greate kingdome of Media, the Gran Tartaria, and the high mountaine Masarpicoronas, in the which Alexander did shut vp the Centaures. Likewise hee passed other greate mountaines, riuers, and kingdomes, which I doo héere omit for to auoide tediousnesse. So long they trauailed till they came to the kingdome of Tigliafa, and passed the Port of Palato, and left behinde them Sina, and put his wagan in the pleasant Iland of Trapobana with­in the Palla [...]ce of the king of Delso, before whome hée did present himselfe with this [...]oung Claridiano by the hande, and sayd.

‘O good and bountiful king, héere I do present thée a pr [...]s [...]nt [...] y^e greatest that euer was presente [...] vnto any king: [...] [Page] thée this childe, & looke vnto him as thou wouldest looke vnto thy owne person, for you shal vnderstand, that this is he that shall restore you into your kingdome, and shall set you at ly­bertie from this subiection in the which you now are in, and shall put me in my kingdome, taking it out of that tyrantes handes who doeth now inioye it: therefore O king doo not forget to doe this which I haue tolde thée, for if wée dooe lacke or loose this remedie, all the hope that wée haue in this the restoring of our kingdomes is lost.’ The king which in the wordes of the Gyaunt had great confidence, giuing vn­to him great credite, tooke the childe by the hand and set him vp [...]n his knée, and kissing his faire face, hée sayde:‘Ah my good friend, where hath béene séene a thing of so great beau­tie and of so fayre and perfect proportion, it is not possible that amongest humane creatures shoulde be anie such, but rather some of the Gods hath descended from aboue, and hath ingendered him. And héere I doe sweare, by that which I doe owe vnto the deseruing of the mightie Apollo, to haue him in possession, and to intreate & intertaine him as though he were my owne proper and naturall Lord, and thinke my selfe in this dooing to be the most happiest king in all the worlde, and thou my friend in the meane time procure to kéepe thy person from the most cruell dogge, whome I dooe thinke is feared of the high throne of the supernal Gods: one thing there is which onely doth gréeue me & put me in greate feare, which is, that I would not we should bring vp so ten­der and faire a youngling as this childe is, for to be a praye héereafter vnto so cruell and monstrous a beast as he. Then the Gyant answered and sayd: O king put thy selfe out of all doubt, for hée shall not onelye abate the courage and fu­rie of this great and sauage tyraunt, but also in hearing him named, all the countrie shall be in a feare & quake: trauaile therefore in no other thing but to bring him vp with all the maiestie that thou maist, for thou shalt vnderstand that he is sonne vnto the most valiauntest Prince in all the worlde,’at which wordes the childe was in a great dumpe, and blushed in such sorte that his face séemed to bée a Ru­bie: [Page 90] so the Gyant tooke leaue of the king, not without great sorrowe to a part himselfe from that young Prince. The king tourned and gaue the childe againe to Formisa his Nurse, vntill such time as he came to the bignesse and sta­ture to exercise himselfe in learning and in feates of armes, the which hée didde in so short time, that it put them in great admiration that did teach him, for that in lesse then the spare of thrée yeares he was so experte in both of them, that they neuer hearde in times past of anie lyke vnto him. Moreouer, in speaking of all manner of languages, hée was so perefect, that it séemed how that all his lyfe time hée had béene brought vp in the place where eyther of all the languages were spoken. His vnderstanding and pollycie was such in all manner of thinges, that not onely the king but all others were perswaded that hée was the sonne of some of the Gods, by reason whereof they did vse him with such reuerence as though hee hadde béene a thing sent vnto them front heauen. And when he came to be twelue yeares olde h [...]e was of such greatnesse, that hee seemed to bée twen­tie yeares olde, his height was according vnto the mighti­nesse of his members, which were excéeding well proportio­ned: perticularly he shewed in his countenance a great gra­u [...]ie and sober disposition, verie little talke, but when hée spake, it was with great discreation, and his wordes verye well placed, verie full of humilitie, and if at anie time hée were angrie (as verie seldome hée was) it was in such sort, that béeing blinded therewith, he respected nothing. The wise Artemidoro sayth, that if this anger doeth procéede of base things, it were a great vice, and that it woulde ouer­shadowe and darken all other vertues that a man was in­dued withall, but he sayth that it did not come vnto him, but by too much force of the heart, and that it was alwayes accompanied with reason, which did nothing at all hurt [...] him, but rather did the more exalt his déedes, and if it did chaunce at anie time that hée were angrie, in looking on them that were present he put them in greate feare. Besides this, hée was verye pittifull, for that manye [Page] times, hearing talke of anie terrible cruelties, he woulde weepe for the compassion he had thereof. The king which euerie daie did see his mightinesse and vertues more & more increase, thought himselfe verie happie to haue in his power so precious a iewell. Manie other things I coulde tell you héere, of the noblenesse of this Prince, according as the wise Artemidoro doth discouer, but the successe of his worthie fa­ther doth cause me to change my stile, to tell you of his high and mightie deedes.

¶Of the great paine that the Prince did sustaine for the ab­sence of his cosin, and how he had battaile with a certaine knight that was verie dolorous through loue, & of all that which chaunced heerein. Chap. 17.

THE griefe was verie great which the Gre­cian Prince receiued for the sodaine absence of his cosin, but he did comfort himselfe, for that hée vnderstoode that the vessell was go­uerned by the art of Lyrgandeo, and perswa­ded himselfe that it was conuenient, for that which should succéede, and so dissembling his sorrowe in the best wise he could, he went onwardes his voyage, verie desi­rous to sée land, purposing that if he went alande, béeing on firme lande, not as then to goe anie more to Sea, and béeing still in this determination, hee sailed forwardes two dayes. The next daie following when that the Sunne had runne a greate parte of his course, they sawe comming to­wardes them a greate Boate or Galley, of which the winde with his blustering gale did fill theyr sayles, and also it was rowe [...] with foure Oares on a side, and hadde the Sea lyke­wise fauourable vnto them, and the Princes shippe lost her waie, for that the winde was against her, and therefore they stroke their sailes and made a staie, intending to sée what was in the other Shippe: drawing nigh them, they hearde the sounde of a Harpe, which made a meruailous sweete and pleasunt noise in the eares of all the hearers.

[Page 91]And beholding with good aduisement, they sawe that within their boat they brought hanging at the mast an image, which séemed to be of siluer, of a meruailous great beautie, with this title written thereon: Floriana the daughter of the Duke of Cantabria, Ladie of all the beautie of the world. At her féet she had hanging by little chaines of siluer, many images of faire Ladies & damsells, amongst them all there was two which did hang higher then all the rest, y^e one of them had a crowne on her head, which séemed to be an Empresse, & the other to be a quéene, and euery one of them had their names written what they were, & reading y^e titles of those two which hung more higher then the rest, they saw y^e one of them was Cla­ridiana Empresse of Trabisond, & vpon y^e other was writtē, Oliuia Princesse of great Britaine. O heauēly God, how great was the ire that vpon a sodaine appeared in the prince, when he behelde the image of his Ladie at the féete of the other which was highest, & blowing like vnto a wilde bull, he said: O my verie friend & one of great vnderstanding, if thou doe not spéedely assist to punish this great outrage offered me, frō this time forth I will renounce thy friendship & account thee as my mortall enimie, because I sée, for y^e more augmenting of my paine, thou hast shewed me y^• which might haue bene excused by shunning y^e sight of it. Tefereo which likewise did behold y^• which y^e prince had seene, & saw the great alteration which y^e sight had caused in him, & fearing y^• his outragious cholar, wold be the occasion y^t he shuld do some vnséemly act, he had great care of him, & surely he had done no lesse, but that little & little they drew nigher with their galley vnto y^e other boat, & they were so nigh y^t they might plainly heare the mu­sicke that was within the boat, & for that it séemed vnto them to be very pleasant, they gaue attendant eare therto, & also to a song that a knight in y^e galley sung, which héere followeth.

This is that which I denie, aunswered the Prince vnto these words, and with a high voyce, he sayde, Knight whosoeuer thou art, come forth and defende this great lye, which euen now thou spakest, for it shall not be aunswered with any other thing, but with the losse of thy life. So their barkes were ioyned one with another, which the Prince see­ing, he went and would haue leapt into the other boat: but he was disturbed by the comming forth of a verie well set Knight against him, being of a good proportion, who hadde heard the words which the Prince had sayd, and for to sée who it was which spake them, he came from vnder the hat­ches of the barke. He was armed with gréene armour, the most richest that euer Knight did weare, & was full of these two letters F.F. all gylte. This Knight of the barke issued out not hauing his helme on his head, who discouered a ve­ry faire face, such as hath not bene séene, but onelye that of the Prince, his beard began to bud as yeolow as the golde, and his haire was of the same colour. And when hée sawe that the Knight of the Sunne had his healme on his head, and that he was a Knight of so gentle disposition, and with so rich armour, he almost suspected who it should be, & sayd with great grauitie, It is not séemelye (especiallye in a Knight of such disposition as you séeme to be) to speake such proude words as you haue vttered, and aboue all, vnto one that doth estéeme them so little as I doo. The knight of the sun at y^e time was not to strain any curtesie, but answered, It is worse in them which doo presume of thēselues as thou dost, to speake lies & commit villany, in estéeming so little of them, y^t are not onely in beautie far passing y^e fairnes of this Ladie whom thou so honorest, but also of more, then any in [Page] the world, and yet thou doost put her a degrée lower, making her whom thou doost serue to be the Princesse of all beautie, what diuell hath bewitched thée in this wise, & deceiued thée, not to esteeme nor to make anie reckoning of the excel [...]ent Claridiana. Dost thou thinke that the Grecian Prince is not in the world, or els dost thou vnderstande that hée is so oloe, that he cannot vse his members to maintaine her qua­rell against such like falsehood as this is, which fondly thou forcest thy selfe to defend, take vnto thée thy helme, thou vile and naughtie Knight, [...]or thy bold hardinesse is worthye of no other thing but death. By these reasons which y^e Knight of the Sunne had vttered, that was confirmed in the other, which before he did suspect, and rested halfe doubtfull to deale with him, but séeing he must of force he la [...]ed on his helme, and commaunded the marriners to grapple fast the Barkes together, the which was done with a trice, which caused the one to ioyne fast to the other, and so without anye more words betwéene them, they both drewe their swordes, and the Knight with the gréene armour tooke the aduauntage, & stroke the Prince such a blowe vpon the healme, y^t he made him stoope, and firme his hand vpon the ship boorde, and in great hast he doubled another with so great strength, that he was almost astonyed, and it made him to recoile backwards two paces, that he had almost fallen downe. The Knight of the Sunne came straight waye to himselfe, and lifting vp his mightie arme, he chaunced such a blowe vppon the helme of his enimie (which was as harde and strong as a Dimond) that it gaue such sound, that all the sea was occu­pied with the noyse thereof. And made him to boowe with both his knées to the grounde. The gréene Knight meruay­led very much of that great blowe which he had receiued: but for that he was strong and of great courage, he arose straight vp againe on foot [...], and lent vnto the Prince such another blowe, and with so greate anger, that as it hit him on the wast, it made him to fall sidewards to the fore ship. The Prince didde not meruayle much thereat, but was straight way with him againe, and stroke him so mightie [Page 93] a blowe vpon the helme, that it made the bloud start out at his eyes and at his nose, and he was so troubled therewith, that he thought a great tower had fallen downe vpon him. The Prince seeing him in this traunce, did procure to leape into his barke, but the gréene Knight by reason he was not fully astonished, with both his hands thrust at the Knight of the Sunne vpon his breast, for to hinder him from his entring, so that spite of his heart he made him to recoyle, and that in such sort, that he lacked but a little to fall downe backwards, which was the occasion, that his anger did the more increase. And either of them firming themselues on their feete, there began a new the battaile, with so great an­ger and furie, that the marriners thought, y^t at euery blowe the battaile would haue bene ended. Neuerthelesse, the more they did fight, the more their anger did increase, so y^t theyr fierce blowes wer incōperable. Oh how much y^e knight of y^e sun foūd himselfe troubled to sée y^e great strength of his ad­uersarie, for y^e except it were in the Knight of Cupide only, he neuer in any other had found the like courage & strēgth, as he did in this Knight with the gréene armour, who lyke­wise did no lesse meruaile at the power of the Knight of the Sunne: and with this, in either of them increased greate courage, with like desire to ouercome their enimies, procu­ring to strike the one the other with great furie, and multi­plyed so their blowes, that neither of them was without his payment. The Prince was meruailously amazed to sée that the courage of his enimie did so long indure, which caused his anger in very straunge manner to increase in such sort, that he strake at him such strong and incomperable blowes that they were not to be suffered, and almost no resistance to be made. So long they indured the battaile, that the Sunne had made an ende of his ordinary course, & the heauie and mourning night began to throwe his mantle euer all the earth, in such sort that they could scarce see: but they were so kindled in their anger, & so furious in their battaile, that the darknes was not sufficient to seperate them, but they called with a great noyse for lights, that they might make [Page] an end of their battaile, but Tefereo séeing their determinati­on, conceiued great griefe that such a valiaunt knight as hée with the greene armour should runne in any danger of peril, he did perswade with y^e Marriners, & made signes that they should vngrapple their barkes, and béeing moued with great compassion they procured to doe it, so priuely y^t the knights might not perceiue it, the which was easily accomplished, for that they were so blinded in fiercenesse of this their battell, that they could not intend to marke it. The grapples wer no sooner taken off, when y^t the barke of the knight of the Sun with great force did seperate himselfe from the other, which when the prince did sée, and that he could not finish his desire, he was purposed to throw himselfe into the sea, for to come vnto his aduersarie, but considering that it woulde little pro­fit him, he beganne to exclaime against Lyrgandeo to be his enimie and a robber of his honour, and saying that he was a vile man and of base bloud and lignage: with this and such like reproch, and other irefull thoughtes, the Prince went onwarde his iourney, and vppon a sodaine his Galley stroke a lande, and in a trice hée leapt out of her, and after him went out Tefereo, and caused theyr horses to bée ta­ken out, and put them into a faire medowe full of verie faire and gréene grasse, where as they did féede. The knight of the Sunne béeing verie full of thoughtes and pensiue, hée woulde not consent that anie shoulde speake with him, but got him amongest a companie of fresh and gréene trées, where as hée remained till the morning. So verie earlye in the morning at the breake of the daie hee called for his horse, and when all that were with him were in a readinesse, hée beganne to iourney, and tooke his waie through a verye straight and narowe path, which brought them vnto a verie broad & common beaten waie, so they had not trauailed long in it, when they sawe comming a Damsell with a verie sad and sorrowfull countenaunce, as appeared by the greate quantitie of teares which procéeded from her eyes, and shée came in greate hast riding on her Palfraie, and when shée came nigh whereas the Prince was, hée and all that were [Page 94] with him did salute her, the Damsell did returne vnto them the thanks, and with the great sorrow y^t she had in her heart she spake vnto them in the French tongue, and sayde: ‘Oh so­uereigne Gods, that I might finde in these knights so much strength as the outward shew and appearaunce of their wel proportioned persons doth promise, then they woulde soone giue remedie to this my troubled sorrowe.’ Tefereo who was not so troubled in his minde as the Prince was, aun­swered and sayde: ‘Of truth Ladie your petition béeing iust­ly demaunded and the cause conformable, wée will not one­ly aduenture our persons for your remedie, but also our liues, for that wée are thereto bound by the order of knight­hoode, in the fauour and defence of Ladyes and Damosells. The Damosell aunswered and said: I haue so much iustice on my side, that I doe meruaile howe the heauens do con­sent vnto it, or why the humane force or strength of men will maintaine such falsehoode, notwithstanding, gentle Knight, if you promise mée to dooe your best to remedie mée heerein, I will declare it vnto you, and in the perfourming thereof you shall redresse thrée thinges. In the one you shall deliuer mée of this greate sorrowe and paine in the which I nowe am, in the other, you shall set at libertie the faire La­die Artalanda, who is accused by the greatest and falsest treason that euer was inuented in the worlde, and most shamefully imputed vnto that innocent Princesse, and by the thirde you shall get to your selues greate honour, which is the thing that all good and valyaunt knightes doeth pro­cure and desire in this worlde. The Knight of the Sunne aunswered: Wée knowe well that these thrée are to bée estéemed, therefore fayre Damsell, for my selfe and for my companion I thus much say, that we dooe offer our persons, with the conditions aforesayd.’In the meane time y^t he spake these words, the damsell did behold him very much, and it sée­med vnto her y^t he was of a great valour, and séeing him of so good a proportion and so well armed, she imagined in her minde that he should be the knight of the Sun by all likely­hoods, according as she had heard talke, and declared o [...]en [Page] times in the Court of the French king, and was perswa­ded that it was none other, as appeared by all tokens that she before had heard, & comforting her selfe with these new and ioyfull thoughts, she desired them to alight from theyr horses, and that if it pleased them to sit downe vnder a faire greene arbour which was there at hand, she woulde declare vnto them the greatest treason that euer was inuented in the world, to the which these knightes did condescend with a verie good will, and béeing set downe amongst those gréene hearbes, the Damsell with a verie dolorous complaint be­gan, and sayd.

‘Noble knights and Lords, you shall vnderstand that you are in the kingdome of France, vnto the king wherof it plea­sed God to giue a daughter, of so great beautie & fairenesse, that it caused greate admiration vnto all them that behelde her, the which fame was spread abroade, which caused verie manie great and valerous knightes and Lordes of this and other kingdomes to repaire vnto the Court: amongest them all there came one who was sonne vnto the Prince of Scot­land, and named Dalior, a man of a verie good grace & gen­tle disposition, & one indued with al feats of good knighthood. Likewise there was another who was sonne vnto the duke of Guyan, one of the greatest noble men that was in all Fraunce, a strong and stout man and of great pride, and by lignage of the most valyaunt and strongest knightes in the world [...], called Lidiarte. These two Princes had discord be­twéene themselues, & did contend in the seruice of this faire lady Artalanda. The great contentmēt the which they recei­ued, and the great brauery they vsed in apparell in this their seruice, I cannot héere expresse. But this faire ladie did so go­uerne her selfe with discreation (who was indued with it as much as with hir beautie) y^t she made as though she vnder­stood nothing of their desire, although alwaies she had a bet­ter affection to the good will of the Prince of Scotland, then to the loue of Lidiarte, and for that, loue doth not permit y^t anie thing which appertaineth therevnto should bée kept secret, this vnbeloued knight did apparantly perceiue it, by [Page 95] which occasion, the great griefe which he receiued, abated his co [...]our and he waxed verie leane, and his face became ye­low and wan, and did determine to chaunge his apparaile o [...] ioye and gladnesse, and all pleasures, and to apparell him­selfe in such sort, that she might well vnderstande his great sorowe and heauinesse. And to the contrary Dalior did shew himselfe in his apparell, the great contentment that he re­ceiued, for that he did perceiue that his Lady did showe him some fauour: the which was vnto the young Earle the cause of great sorrow and griefe. Then Loue, who neuer resteth from finishing his effects, but alwayes doth with great effi­cacie make perfect his workes, did wound with firme and faithfull loue towards Lidiarte, a damsell whose name was Tarfina, being in the seruice of this beautifull Princesse be­fore named, who loued him so firmelye, that this miserable Damosell could finde in her selfe no kinde of quietnes nor rest, and most of all she now tormented her selfe, for that she [...]awe so sodaine a change in her louer. This cruell paine did so much constraine hir, y^t she of necessitie was driuen to seeke all meanes & pollicies, to procure how she might at her ease talke with him, and giue him to vnderstand, with her own mouth, all the paine and griefe that she did suffer, and the onely cause thereof. And putting this her determination in vre, it chaunced on a daye, (as she might saye bitter and vn­fortunate) after dinner when the Table was taken vp, she founde time conuenient to declare vnto him all that her heart desired, for finding her louer leaning against a cupboord all alone, shee came vnto him and saluted him with greate curtesie, the Earle did receiue her with no lesse gentlenesse, (beléeuing for that she was a Damsell of his ladie the prin­cesse, that she had come from her of some message) she seeing so good opportunitie▪ spake vnto him in this manner. Many times noble Lidiarte, I haue bene mooued to demand of [...]o [...] what thing it shuld be, that hath so much strength and force, which onely doth not cau [...]e you to chaunge your gorgeous & braue apparell, but also doth take away y^e colour from your gentle face, and in this manner we [...]ken all your members. [Page] Where is now all your brauerie and contentment, that you were wont to hau [...]? discouer vnto me all your paine and griefe, and the occasion of all this your sorrowe. Noble Lord let me heere vnderstand of all, and being knowen of this thy seruaunt, I will procure the best and most assured remedies, that may be for thy redresse conuenient. Tell me Lidiarte, if it be corporall griefe, or whether it be a wound hurte by the cruell force of Cupides dart. My louing Lord, I doo de­sire you to declare vnto me the cause of all your sorrowe & griefe, and heere I doo protest and giue my faith, to procure with all my power and strength, by pollicie & other meanes to finde remedie for this your tribulation. These and other such reasons, with hir words well placed, spake this Damo­sell vnto the Earle, with hope that he would declare vnto her, the cause of all his sorrow, and from whence it did pro­céede. These swéete perswasions and louing reasons, tooke such effect in the Earle Lidiarte, that he discouered all that was in his heart, and the whole occasion as héeretofore you haue heard. This damosell when she vnderstood the whole effect thereof, it grieued her to the very heart, although shée did dissemble it, and kept it secret to hir selfe, and would not suffer him therein to know her minde: and straight way [...] for her remedy, the diuell put into her head, a meruaylous & wicked inuention. And for to giue contentment vnto the Earle, she tolde him, that she would declare vnto the Prin­cesse, all the whole estate of this his sorrowfull paines, and passionate griefe, willing him withall to remember, that the next daye at that houre, he should méete her againe at y^e same place, for that she would bring him an aunswere of all that should passe. And with this she left off her talke and depar­ted, leauing the Earle somwhat comforted, with the hope of her aunswere, that he looked for the next daye: yet he stoode in doubt of her retourning at the appointed houre, & thought the time very long: so he passed all that daye & night with­out any rest. And on the other side this amorous Lady was no lesse troubled and without rest, desiring earnestlye the [Page 96] appoynted times approching: euen as the wearyed Marri­ners being weather-beaten at the sea, and tossed héere and there by the furious force of tempestes and blustering winde alwayes in hope that they will abate, whereby they maye haue faire and peaceable weather, and so be [...]ased of theyr great trauaile. At length, the long desired houre drew on, of their appointment, and the Earle repayred vnto the place: he was scant there, when that the Damosell likewise appro­ched, almost at the same instant, and the Earle receiued her with great contentment: but the damsell said, y^t she had no time to haue any great talke with him, but onely my Lorde this I say vnto you, that this night at midnight she wil tar­rie thy comming, wheras thou shalt fulfill all thy desire, and giue thée to vnderstand, how that she is not culpable of all these thy passed sorrowes and griefes, (naming a méeting place, which after shall be declared). And pardon me, I pray you, for that the time dooth not giue me any more lea­sure to talke with you, and so without any more tarrying she went away, and lefte the Earle in such great ioye, that he was almost in an extasie therewith. The Earle went vnto his lodging, where he remained, and tarried vntil the time appointed, the which he thought very long, imagining euery minute a whole houre. The houre being come, he went alone vnto the place appoynted, and couered himselfe with a mantle of cloath of golde. He tarried not long ther, when that this infortunate Tarfina, put her selfe vpon a wal, wher as she put downe a péece of timber, whereby the Earle shuld laye holde on for to goe vp.’

‘The Earle with the great desire which he had, thought all very easie to be done, and so with great lightnesse he got vppon the wall, and descended downe on the other side in­to the gardeine. And when the Damosell had him there­within the garden, she said: My Lord and Earle tarrie there a while, by the posterne gate of the pallaice, béeing the ente­raunce into this garden: for thereout will issue thy Ladye and mistresse the Princesse, & in the meane time will I go [Page] and aduise her, that thou art héere, and keepe thy self as cl [...]se, and in as great secret as may be. The Earle with no small pleasure kept himselfe secret and was quiet, abiding (as hee [...]oug [...]e) the Princesse comming. He had not taried ther long when that this wicked damosell came forth, adorned with the same garments which her Lady the Princesse had worn the daye before, and opening very softly that posterne gate, [...]he issued out, and drewe her selfe towardes the light of the Moone, or that the Earle might knowe the garments. The which when that the Earle sawe, and knewe that they wer her garments, he thought berely that she had bene his Lady so long desired, and without anye more thinking, he fell downe vpon his knées, and taking her by the handes, he kis­sed them many times, and so both of them by great pollicie and deceite, and with excéeding ioye, did fulfill their desires, and tooke their leaue each of other, with many pleasaunt and sweete wordes, fearing that the daye would appeare, they de­parted. The Earle retourned vnto his lodging, wheras hée passed the rest of the darke night with great contentment. This Damosell did the like, putting from her those vsurped roabes of the honestie and honour of her Lady the Princes. So the next morning when it was day, the Earle rose vp, and apparayled himselfe with the most richest apparrel that he had, and went vnto the Kings pallaice somwhat betimes, and so walking round about out of one chamber vnto ano­ther, vntill such time as he came vnto the chamber whereas the Princesse was, he lifted vp a cloath which was before the dore, where he might well discouer the innocent Ladye, with a praier booke in her hande, vsing her accustomed pray­ers, & daily deuotion. This former dissembled & fained loue, gaue him great courage & hardines to enter into her chāber, & entring in, he spake vnto her certaine louing and amorous words, throwing his armes about her neck, and ioyning his face vnto the face of the Princesse: who séeing this great [...]oldnesse, meruailed very much, and with the great alterati­on of her heart, her praier booke fell out of her handes, and the arose vp vpon her féete, and began to crie out with a loud [Page 97] voice, and sayde. O holie God deliuer me from this vncur [...]e­ous and vnmannerly knight.’ And a [...] those words entred in the Prince of Scotland and certain of the Princesses Dam­sells, but when the Prince did see the greate boldnesse of Li­charte, he drewe out his swoorde with greate anger, and sayde.

Traitour, thou shalt not cléere thy selfe as thou doest thinke to doe, hauing committed so greate treason as thou hast done, and his anger was such, that he stroke at the Earle a terrible blowe, which was more of ire then regarding how he deliuered it, the Earle let the blow slippe by and running in with the same, he stroke the Prince such a blowe vppon the head, that he parted it in two péeces, and hée fell downe dead on the floore. The tumult and vproare was such amon­gest the Ladyes and Damosells, that at their greate shrikes the king went thether, and his comming was in such hast, that this vnfortunate Lidiarte coulde not by anie meanes get awaie. There came in companie with the king, Beraldo of Burdeaux, and the Earle of Aniow, and the Prince of Vi­arne, and many other knightes and Gentlemen. And when the king sawe the Prince slaine, and the murtherer standing by, the king stepped vnto him and tooke the sworde out of his hande, and sayde vnto him. Oh knight without measure or mercie, what hath beene the occasion of this thy follye to kill this Prince. There was by a Ladie of the Princesses, (who verie gréeuously lamented the death of the Prince) and told vnto the king all y^e truth of the matter as it ther passed, and when the king heard of all this enterprise, he receiued so much anger, that he himselfe in person did carrie him into a strong towre which was in the pallaice and put him pri­soner therein and commaunded to put on him verie greate and strong chaines, and without any more tarrieng he called his counsell together, and opened the matter in publike be­fore them all, whereas he was condemned for a traitour (al­though there were some which did feare much his great po­wer, but the king made no reckoning of it) and so before that he would breake his fast, he commaunded him to be hanged [Page] out of one of the windowes of the Towre, and commaun­ded publikely to be proclaimed all the whole treason, where as to all men was seene his sodaine & sorrowfull death. Then he commaunded the Prince to be buried with great honour, as vnto such a person did appertaine. After this the sorrow­full Tarsina seeing that she was the onely occasion of all this euill, not remembring the losse of her virginitie, nor respect­ing anie shame, which such as she was ought to haue and keepe, began to teare her haire, and to scratch her face, & gaue meruailous shrikes, that all the Pallaice did found thereof, and with greate furie she went vp vnto the place whereas her welbeloued Lidiarte was hanged, and when shee sawe him dead with so shamefull and dishonourable a death, shee beganne with great lamentation to publish the occasion of all this euill, saying.

‘Oh souereigne God, now will I acknowledge this great errour which I haue committed and done, for the which I doo not deserue one, but a thousand deaths: Oh miserable cre­ature that I am, and vnhappie bodie that hath committed so great harme and villanie, and onely because thou couldest not refraine thy disordinate appetite, thy soule must nowe paye that which thou diddest consent vnto: Oh cursed delight, that for a little transitorie pleasure I would loose my virginitie, therby causing him whom I loued more then my selfe, to re­ceiue so miserable a death & euil end, & haue likewise brought in great suspition the honour of my Lady the Princesse, ther­fore I will giue my selfe the correction that so worthilye I doe deserue, paying with my life and honour, the prise of my great lasciu [...]ousnesse and diuellish hardinesse.’And with this she leapt into the windowe with great furie, and layde holde on the roape whereby the Earle was hanged, and slipped downe by it till she came and imbraced her armes aboute the necke of the Earle, and ioyning her mouth vnto his mouth, which was then verie colde and blacke with the bloud, and holding her selfe fast with the one of her handes, with the other hand she drewe out a little knife which shée had, wherw [...]th she cut the rope a sunder which he hanged by, [Page 98] so that both of them fell to the grounde, whereas they were all broken to péeces, and there she dyed. The greate altera­tion which was in the Court, when they vnderstoode of all this that had past, was straunge and without comparison. And although manie did heare her complaint, yet there was not one that coulde tell wherefore it was, till such time as a Lackie which was nigh her, declared all that you haue heard tolde, for that he had heard it worde for worde, but when the king did knowe the effect thereof, hée was verye much amased at it. And for that he woulde there shoulde be a perpetuall memorie thereof, presently hée commaunded that they should bée buryed both together, in a Sepulchre with­out the Citie of Paris, declaring in it the effect of this dolo­rous act, the which was forthwith published throughout all the whole kingdome. So when that this vnhappie death of the Earle came vnto the eares of his Father and all his kins­folkes, they were verie sorrowfull, and receiued for it great griefe, and waxed verie wrathfull, and determined (if it were possible) to reuenge the death of the Earle, and deuised con­tinually in secrete what order might best bee taken to bring it to effect. So in the ende of manie inuentions, they conclu­ded, to accuse the Princesse, that shee should be the onely oc­casion of all this euill. And the better for to compasse and bring this accusation to passe, they did commit it to the vsing of the brothers sonne of the olde Earle, and cousin vnto Li­diarte, who was sonne vnto the Earle of Prouince, an excel­lent and valiaunt Knight. The which accusation he did ac­cept with a verie good will, and for to make their determina­tion of more strength, they agréed to sende vnto the king­dome of Sardenia, vnto a brother of the king Bramidoro, with whome they had at that time greate friendshippe, re­questing him that hée woulde sende them some one of his lignage to fauour them héerein, the which he graunted with verie greate good will, and for that they shoulde the bet­ter vnderstand the greate desire that hée hadde to pleasure them in this matter, he sent them two of his lignage, and by reason that they were Gyauntes and of a meruailous [Page] huge bignesse (although all the world did knowe that the Princesse is without fault and not culpable) yet they dare not put their persons in aduenture, with those two horrible and disordinate monsters. So after they hadde made this their traiterous and false accusation, after manye and great contentions they grew in the end to this conclusion, that the Princesse should within the tearme of fiftéene dayes bring three knightes that with these other thrée shoulde make and maintaine battaile in the fielde for the defence of this false accused Princesse, and if so be that she coulde with­in that time prefired finde but two knightes, then it shall be at their curtesie to take vppon them the enterprise, and nei­ther more nor lesse then they thrée if shee did finde but one knight. Now there is twelue of these fiftéene daies past, so that within these thrée dayes the full time is expired: there­fore noble Lordes and knightes, let me bée resolued what you will determine heerein. To loose our liues for to set at libertie this wronged Ladie, aunswered the Knight of the Sunne, therefore it is conuenient without anie more delaye that wee take our iourney thether-ward. Then the Damo­sell sayd, how is it that you will take the enterprise in hand and bee but two, and they bée thrée, and besides, almost inuin­cible. Then Tefereo aunswered, the iustice on the Princesse parte shall be the thirde person, take you no care fayre Da­mosell for that, for although we are but two, we doe little esteeme them. When the Damosell sawe their liberall prof­fer and determination, she was verie gladde and content, and straight wayes she leaped vpon her palfraie and they on their horses, and so rode towards the Citie without making anie farther delaie or tarrieng.

¶How the Prince met in Paris the knight of the Ima­ges, and of the battaile he had with him, and howe they ouercame the three knightes which did accuse the Princesse, & afterward how Tefereo knew who the knight of the Images was, & of all that happe­ned besides. Cap. 17.

[Page 99] WIth great hast the Prince and all that were with him trauailed that daie and the next in the kingdome of Fraunce, vntill they came within two leagues of Paris, so the next daie verie early in the morning they arose & tra­uailed againe till they came within the sight of the Citie, and for that it was verie early to enter into the same, they alighted amongst a companie of trées, wheras by the great thicknesse they might not bée séene of anie: and re­freshing themselues by a cléere fountaine of water that was there at hand, they sate downe and did eate of such as the Damosell had brought with her. So in this sort they passed the time, till they thought it to be the houre to goe vnto the defence pretended, so when the time drew nigh, they perused their armour in all pointes, and armed themselues and leapt on horse backe. Tefereo if it had not séemed vnto him to bée a point of cowardlinesse, wold haue procured to haue distur­bed this battaile, for they against whome he shoulde fight were his kinsefolkes, but yet he thought that he was more bound by the order of knighthoode to kéepe companie with him with whom he came, and to resist such like wronges in the defence of truth and iustice, then to haue anie respect to his kindred, and especially in such like false accusations. Hee therefore determined to dissemble it and say nothing, so with these and such like thoughtes they went forwardes till they came into the citie, vnto the place appointed for this battell, whereas they found the Princesse set vpon a scaffolde, all co­uered with mourning robes of great sadnesse, which did de­clare and shew her great sorrowe and vndeserued trouble. So likewise all the whole scaffolde, and all the Ladyes and Da­mosells that came with the Princesse were couered and ap­parelled correspondent vnto her attire. The king was at a windowe of his Pallaice with no lesse sorrowe and sadnesse to sée his honour put vnto that blemish as it was. And that which gréeued him most was, that not one knight in all his Court durst giue the enterprise, yet was there present [Page] all the whole companie of the knightes of his Court. So these two Gyaunts and the other knightes came armed in­to the place with verie fayre and strong armour, and moun­ted vpon greate and mightie strong horses, sauing the grea­test of the Gyauntes, for that there was not any horse that coulde sustayne so mightie and huge a waight: wherefore he was mounted vpon an Elephant. So looking round about, the Prince sawe on the other side of the fielde the Knight with the gréene armour, which he had fought with all in the Barke béeing at the Sea, as I haue tolde you, who was in a readynesse to make the battaile in defence of the Princesse. This knight there by had hanged vpon a péece of timber all the Images that he brought with him, in such sorte as they were hanged in his Barke, the which when the Prince saw that the Image of the Dutchesse was aboue that of the em­presse, his anger did so increase, that he had cleane forgotte wherefore he came thether, and spurred Cornerino his horse with so much furie, that by his force he made the grounde whereas he came to tremble and shake. And when he came vnto the place whereas the Images were hanging, he with his strong arme laide holde vppon the deuice and brake the chaines wherewith they were made fast, and swinged it a­bout his head with such greate strength, that hée made them flye to the highest partes of all the Pallaice, the which was done in such great hast, that when the knight with the greene armour was come to disturbe him, it was too late, for that his Ladye was [...]lowen vp into the ayre, whereat he recey­ued so much anger, that without anie more adoe, he threwe his shéelde at his backe, and with both his handes he layde ho [...]de on his sworde, and stroke the Prince such a terrible blowe, that he made him to fal backwards on his horse crou­per, without anie remembraunce, and with the great strength wherewith he stroke him, he made his horse to stoope vnder him. Cornerino being somewhat amased at this terrible blowe, carried his master rounde about the field, but before that the knight with the gréene armor could double to strike [Page 100] him againe, the Prince was come vnto himselfe, and setling himselfe vppon his horse backe, being firmed in his stirrops, with greate furie he threw his shéelde to the grounde, and tooke his swoorde in both his handes, and pricked Corneri­no towardes the place whereas his aduersarie was, who was likewise in a readinesse to discharge his blowe, so both of them together discharged each vppon the others helme, with such furie and force, that the Prince of the Sunne was constrained to fall vpon his horse necke as though hée hadde bene dead, for that neuer blowe that euer he receiued before that time did bring him to the like perplexitie, but onely one, the which he receiued at the hands of Rosicleer, when he had battaile with him. Lykewise the knight with the gréene ar­mour did nothing aduance himselfe of his déede, for the blow which he receiued was so terrible, that he fell from his horse to the ground, and the bloud issued out at his month and nose with great abundaunce, and he stretched his armes and legs vpon the sandie ground as though he hadde bene altogether dead. The king and all that were with him were very much amased, to sée that so cruell and sodaine a battell should hap­pen, without knowing the occasion wherfore. And more they did meruaile, imagining a little by the tokens of the horse who that knight should bée, which hauing his enimie for so valiant a knight in so short time had brought him into such extremitie. Now when Tefereo did sée the Prince thus put to his shiftes and in such great necessitie, and howe that hée laie vpon his horse necke without anie remembrance, hée be­gan to crie out vppon fortune, and with great furie he drew out his swoorde and went against the defenders of the euill accusation, and called them traytours, (although they were his brothers children.) Héere you may sée what great force and strength the truth hath, that although they were his bro­thers childen, yet he did procure their deaths, for that they came out of their owne Countrie, into a straunge and for­reine lande to defende treason. The sonne of the Earle of Prouince was y^e first that did offer to put himselfe forwards, to whome Tefereo gaue such terrible and strong blowes [Page] vpon his helme, that without remembraunce hée made him fall to the ground as one that were dead. The Gyants when they sawe themselues so ill intreated, both of them set spurs vnto theyr beastes, and drawing out their great and sharpe cutting swoords, they did procure to hurt him with theyr heauie and terrible blowes. In this contention the valiaunt Sardenian did shewe his mightie and strong courage with greate pollicie and cunning, nowe striking at the one, and then at the other, and alwayes prouiding to let their blowes slippe aside without receiuing anie harme, and such was his pollicie and lightnesse, that in a great while they coulde not fasten one full blowe vppon him. Nowe was the knight of Prouince come to himselfe, and séeing himselfe on the grounde, and his enimie so couragious betwéene these two mightie Gyauntes, he approched vppon the one side where­as Tefereo coulde not sée him, and cut off one of the hinder legges of his horse, the horse when hée felte himselfe hurte, woulde haue risen vpright before, but by anie meanes hée coulde not, but recoyled backwarde with his crouper to the grounde, which was yet in such sorte that Tefereo had time to goe out of the saddle, with so greate anger, that the bloud burst out at his nose, and without anie feare before him, he pressed at the knight of Prouince, and thrust such a foyne at his breast, that his armour coulde not denie the passage but that the swoorde came out at his backe, so that hée fell downe starke dead to the grounde: hée had scant drawen his swoorde out of the bodie of the knight, when that (with­out anie pollicie to defende himselfe, hée receyued such a ter­rible blowe with the breast of the Gyantes horse, which came with such greate furie that (albeit agaynst his will) he was constrained to fall tumbling vnto the grounde, and al­though the fall was somewhat heauie and gréeuous vnto him, yet with a trice hée was a foote againe, and séeing both the Gyauntes readie prepared against him, for his better de­fence he thought it good to put himselfe on the other side of the dead horse.

At this instant the knight of the Sunne came agayne [Page 101] to himselfe, and looking towards the place whereas the bat­taile was, he sawe that his friend like a furious Lyon made resistaunce against the two Giaunts. My pen is not heere sufficient to signifie vnto you the great furie, that on a so­daine came vnto this worthy knight of the Sonne: so that I suppose no Diamond rocke had bene at that time able to make resistaunce against him: for with a furious & hoarce voyce he sayd, Away, away you vile Knights, not worthy of these your great members, and double forces which you doo possesse, seeing that with so much shame this daye you haue maintained such great treason. The prince carried his sword in his hand, hauing reared it on high, redy to strike him that first came in his way, and raising himselfe in his stirrops, he stroke the Giant with the Elephant so terrible a bl [...]we vp­pon his shoulder, that his double armour was not able to make resistaunce against this great force, but that it passed thorough, and diuided it in such wise, that he cut off the one quarter thereof, together with the head, and the rest which remained, fell downe to the ground, with so great wayght, that it made the earth to tremble. The other Giaunt in the meane time had stroke the Prince such a terrible blowe vp­pon the healme, that it made him to gnash his teeth together, with the paine he felt, which was the occasion that he was whollye incensed with anger, insomuch that he pressed to­wards him with no lesse rage, then the Hawke which pur­sueth the Hearon, and stroke such a blowe at his head, that for the defence thereof, the Giant was constrained to lift vp both his armes, and the blow descended in such sort vppon them, that it cut them both in péeces, and his sworde being fast in his handes, they fell altogether to the ground. All the whole Court greatlye meruailed at these fierce and terrible blowes: and hauing thus concluded all that they had to doo the Prince returned vnto Tefereo, and sayd vnto him, Bro­ther, doo you remaine héere, till such time that all be conclu­ded that is héere necessarie to be done, and in the wildernes of Ardenia you shall finde me, in the very same place, where­as we did rest our selues this day, and I desire thee to pro­cure [Page] to know who is that Knight with the gréene armour, and whether he be dead or no. And without any more tarry­ing he spurred his horse, who made as swifte waye as the thunderbolt, and presently departed the Citie, and neuer re­sted till he came vnto the place, whereas he tolde his com­panion he would remaine. Then Tefereo went vnto y^e Iud­ges, and asked them if there were anye more to be done, in the defence and fauour of the Princesse: and the Iudges an­swered, that it was sufficient which was done, and that ther was no other thing to be done in that matter. When Tefe­reo sawe that all was done that was néedfull, he went vnto the place, whereas the Knight with the gréene armor was, and pulling off his helme, he saw that all his face was swol­len with the terrible blowe that he had receiued, and hée sée­med as though he had bene dead. At the same instaunt, the King was come downe from his windowe, into the place whereas the battaile was: onely for to honor these knights and to knowe who they were. And when he could not sée the Knight of the Sunne, he asked for him, and straight way it was tolde him in what great hast he went from that place and out of the Citie: for the which the King was very sor­rie, and if they had not tolde him, that it had bene labor lost to seeke him, he would haue followed to see if he could haue séene him, and haue made him to retourne to haue honoured him in his court. Then the King with amorous wordes requested of Tefereo to tell him who that Knight was, and he tolde him with a very good wil. And when the king knew that it was the Greeke Prince, he receiued great sorow, be­cause he could not doo him the honour, as vnto such a knight appertained. But considering that they could not impute vn­to him anie fault for the lacke thereof, he commaunded that the Knight with the gréene armour, should be carried vnto the Pallaice, and asked his Knights what he was, & it was tolde him, that he was the Prince of Spaine, who was cal­led Torismundo.

And when the King vnderstoode, that he was a Knight [Page 102] of so high linage, he commanded y^t all his Phisitions shuld ioyne together, and prouide all remedies possible for his re­couerie, and that they should apply no lesse core vnto him, then vnto his owne proper person, the which presently was done, and they did apply the best remedies that could be got­ten, till such time as they brought him somewhat to his re­membrance, although it was with great labour. The prince of Spaine, when he sawe himselfe in his naked bed, his sor­rowe was verye much: and calling to his minde all that which had passed, the very griefe he receiued, was almost the occasion of his death.

When Tefereo knew who that Knight was, and that there was no more to be done, without any tarrying he tooke his leaue of the King, and of the Princesse, who wept very sorrowfully at his departure. Tefereo tooke the horse of the lame Giaunt, (who with very anger to see himselfe in that pickle, woulde not consent to the receiuing of anye cure, neyther would he eate any thing, but there desperately dyed) and leaping vppon him he went to seeke the Knight of the Sunne. Where we will leaue them: for that I am nowe inforced by the swéete dartes of Cupide, to refresh the wea­ried eares of the hearers, and to declare some of his lo­uing woundes, and to leaue the furious sword of Mars for a while.

Now to retourne to the storie that is past, whereas if you doo remember, that the Prince Eleno of Dacia, ente­red into that barke wherein the Knight was, which would haue forced a Ladye, and how that vpon a sodaine their gal­lyes did seperate themselues, so that he lost the sight of his Cousin the Knight of the Sunne, and of Tefereo, and bée­ing entered, he woulde haue made resistaunce against his aduersarie, for to disturbe him, that he should not commit the vyolence that he had offered. But vppon a sodaine they were all vanished, so that he sawe neyther Knight, nor Ladye, nor Marriners, nor yet anye other person, but onely himselfe in the Barke, with his inchaunted Horse, [Page] neither could he sée who brought him thether: and thinking to re [...]ourne again into the galley whereas his cousin was, he could not finde him: but looking about, he discerned no other thing, but the Element & the water. When the Prince Eleno sawe himselfe absent from his beloued cousin, his so­row was very great that he receiued, and began to curse all the wise inchaunters, and all those that doo permit & suffer them, for that they were the occasion that in the world, ther was so much euill done. When this Prince Eleno sawe himselfe all alone, and not one with whom he might passe away the time, there came vnto his minde his Florisdama, which was the occasion that he tourned to his accustomed sadnesse, and imagining that he was in her presence, he said: ‘Oh cruell Ladie which dost now reioyce thy selfe, and art at ease in the Kingdome of Dacia: art thou fully pleased with these my paines? Art thou now pacified, y^t thou hast brought me into this extremitie and trouble? wherein, I am in the power of I know not whom, and doo nauigate I cannot tell vpon what. Thy cruell heart I am sure is now content, sée­ing that without desert, for thée I doo suffer so many trou­bles: which as yet I am not certaine, whether thou hast pre­tended or procured it shuld be so or no. Oh cursed inchaun­ters, how many euills haue you wrought by the help of di­uells, so that by reason of your inchauntments, many wor­thye Knights are brought into such like troubles as I am. Héere you may sée into what extremitie this Magicall arte hath brought me, so y^t I can by no meanes profite my selfe of the strength of these my young armes, but am héere in the power of a diuel, who wil ouerthrow this barke: but that which doth most gréeue me, is, y^t I am brought into a place to dye, where of my death shall be lefte no memorie, but must die disdained of that cruell Lady.’ So with great sor­rowe and trouble, he passed thrée dayes, in the end of which, he discouered a very small Iland, which was in the middest of the sea. The barke made thether with great switnesse, so that in a small time he was fast a ground vpon the sande. It was not long after that the Prince leapt a shore, & when [Page 103] he found himselfe out of the barke, he looked rounde aboute him on euery side. And towards his right hand amongst a company of greene trees, he sawe a small tent armed. To­ward which the prince directed his way, with an easie pace, and entring into the Tent, he sawe no bodye, although hee remayned a while, and hearkened if he coulde heere any s [...]ir­ring, but he could neither heare nor see any thing: but one­ly he found the print of a lyttle foote vpon the sand, and hée had a great desire to know whose footesteps they were, for that they seemed to be of some Lady or Damsell, and find­ing the trace, he followed them, and the more he went, it see­med vnto him that the more hast they made, whosoeuer it was that had lefte that signe, which made him more earnest in his desire to see the ende thereof. So long he followed that trace, that in the ende he came vnto a little mountaine, whereas he found scattered about yeolow haire, which see­med to be threds of golde: and stooping for to gather them vp, he perceiued that some of them were wet with spots of bloud, whereby he well vnderstoode, the great anger where with they were pulled of from the head. Likewise he saw in diuers places, how the earth was spotted with drops of liue­ly bloud. Then with a more desire then he had before, hée went vp to the top of that little mountaine, and hauing lost the footsteps, he recouered it by gathering vp y^• golden haire, he had not trauailed farre vp the mountaine, when that to­wards the water side he heard a great complaint, which sée­med to be the voice of a woman, and by the faint sound ther of he might well perceiue that they waxed wearie, for that a while they would rest and be still, and straight way wold returne vnto their accustomed sorrow and complaint. And the words (which the Prince did well vnderstande) were these. ‘Oh loue, now shalt thou no more reioyce, neither haue any longer dominion ouer me, for that gentle death wil shew me so much fauour as to finish these my sorrowfull passiōs, and therewith vnloose and frustrate this string of loue, with the which thou hast bounde me, hauing a desire to aske re­uengement of him, which hath bene the occasion of all this [Page] euill.’ I haue asked the same reuengement, but it hath not pleased the Gods to heare my request: nay rather they haue stopped their eares agaynst these my continual complaynts: and with this she helde her peace, giuing a very sorrowfull and terrrible sigh. The Prince Eleno tourning his eyes to­wards that place, from whence he heard this comylaint, dis­couered amongst certaine gréene trées, a Lady, who was in­dued with maruailous great beautie. It was so excellent, that it depriued him of his heart, which he neuer thought a­gaine to haue lost. She was with her haire all about her eares, and meruailously ill intreated by the violence that she vsed against her selfe, and leaning her chéeke vpon her deli­cate and white hand, which was all to be spotted w^t bloud in many places, which was constrained by the scratching of her nayles. The spots was the occasion to dissolue the great passion which the Prince did féele for his Florisdama, repre­senting in his heart, the figure of this heauie and sorrowful Lady: who seeing her of so great beautie, and in such afflic­tion, was ouertaken and wounded with the demeanour of her faire face, and gréeued to sée her so euill intreated, in such sort, that in a sound he leaned to a gréene trée (amongst ma­ny other which were vpon that mountaine) cleane without any remembraunce.

Oh Cupide, thou béeing but a boye, why doost thou vse these cruell kinde of feates. Who hath taught thée to vse such deceits, which is the occasion of great and endlesse vn­quietnes. Thou dost show thy selfe to be blind, and yet thou art more quicke of sight then a Hawke. How is it possible that thou doost make vs beléeue, that without séeing thou canst hit so right with thy arrowes, and that with so good an aime thou dost wound wheras thou wilt. Thou subtill boy, doo not so plainly showe thy selfe what thou art, if thou doo­est thinke to deceiue me with thy fained innocencie? It is sufficient thou showest thy selfe naked, for that thou art void of all pitie. Oh ye Gods giue me vnderstanding, that I may declare the subtilties and deceits of this false Cupide, for that I care not for him, neither haue I any feare of him. Héere [Page 104] this noble Dacian did feele himselfe cleare of the loue of Flo­risdama, and his heart was new set on fire with the sight of the faire Lidia, vnto whom he had subiected himselfe, and remained more without hope of helpe for his last woun [...]e, then he was of the first. And when he came vnto himse [...]e, and [...]elt that he was freshly wounded, he did delight him [...]lf with the yeolow haire, the which hee had in his hande, and considering with what yre it was pulled of, and also cal­ling to remembrance her complaint, he did plainly perce [...]e that the occasion of all this her sorrow was loue. So with these considerations he lifted vp his eyes, and did behold the great beautie of Lidia, & gazed on her faire face, which was disf [...]gured with the wounds y^t she had made with her na [...]les in scratching it, and it was all to be spotted with the bloud that procéeded from the same wounds: likewise he did me­ditate in the great and thicke teares that distilled from her sorrowfull eyes. All these was the occasion wholly to con­firme his new griefe, and with a sorrowfull sigh looking on the yeolow haire he sayd. Oh haire, if with the great [...]urye of loue thou wert torne off, with how much more force is thy owner graffed in my heart. It hadde bene farre better, haire, that thou hadst still remained to haue garnished that gallant face, which (as it doth appeare) at other times didde much esteeme of thee▪ then héere to be scattered abroad vpon this mountaine, and hauing lost a mistresse of so great va­lor, thou doost giue occasion of death vnto him, which neuer offended thee. But in recōpence of this euill which thou hast caused vnto me, héere I doo promise to make much of thee, & to put thée within my bosome, & lament with teares thy de­solatenes. And héerwith, he went towards y^e place where she was: at which noyse y^e Lady did lift vp her eyes, & séeing the Prince, with a soft voyce she sayd: A my friend, is my Bre­nio come back again, doth he take anie griefe for his d [...]stres­sed Lidia. This new louer whose hart yerned to sée her pain, replied w^t weeping eyes. Faire Lady, I cannot answere vn­to this which you doo aske me, for that I am a strange knight brought by fortune to beare thée cōpany, & to be partaker of [Page] thy sorrowe and paine, and to wound my selfe in beholding [...]. This faire Ladye gaue eare vnto the wordes of this Knight, beléeuing that he woulde haue giuen her some good newes, for the mitigating of her sadnesse, but she perceiued that he was a straunge Knight, she lifted vp her head, and with wéeping eyes she said. Gentle Knight, if my loue haue bene the occasion of this thy sorrow which thou dost show, I doo desire thee to depart, for in me thou shalt find no other thing, but that which only I desire, that is, death. For what loue can they haue, that so cruelly are forgotten, what possi­bilitie is there of helpe in them, that are without all hope. Wi [...]h so great griefe Lidia deliuered these and such like rea­sons, that the ouer much anger she had, caused her to retain her words, so that she could not speake, but gaue a maruai­lous and sorrowfull shrike, that the stoniest heart that euer was, would haue bene mooued with compassion. This good Dacian, séeing that at that time there was no remedy for his euill, by reason of the great paine and griefe, that the fayre Damosell séemed to sustaine, cōstrained himselfe by discre­tion to suffer a while, considering y^e time did giue ease vnto all things: so hoping in time to haue helpe of his disease, and turning to talke vnto Lidia, he requested her that shée would shew him so much fauour, as to declare vnto him the cause of all this her sorrow and paine. So this Ladye did declare it vnto him, in so sorrowful a sort, and with such pi­tifull sighes, that the tempestuous sea being mooued with cō ­passion▪ contrarie vnto his accustomed noyse made a newe & straunge rumour in the caues néere vnto the shore. The Prince with no lesse paine attended vnto her sorrowfull [...]ale, so that it was euen a tragedie to beholde the heauie & lamentable prospects of either of them. Then in the end of relating this heauie historie, the faire Lidia held her peace, and remained silent with wonderfull sadnesse. This trou­bled Dacian wholly yeelded vnto his new griefe, replyed: What furie, what cruell, and what a hardened and stonye heart had he, that a beautie so farre surpassing, coulde not mooue him to yéelde.

[Page 105]Then the faire Lidia, who well vnderstoode from whence these gréeuous and sorrowfull spéeches which the knight had spoken procéeded, yet not giuing him to vnderstand that she had anie knowledge thereof, sayd. Sir knight, I render you great thankes for the sorrowe which you séeme to receiue at my griefe, but if you be a knight of estimation as by your personage it doth appeare you should be, héere I doo desire you by the honour you owe vnto the order of knighthoode, to per­forme two requests which I shall desire thée. The valiaunt Eleno aunswered: I doo not onely Ladie graunt vnto this which you doo demaund, but I am wholy subiect to your ser­uice, and will not refuse to doo anie thing that you will com­maund me. Well, séeing it is so, sayde this faire Ladie. I first request thée to carrie me from this solitarie land, wher­in I haue receiued so much wrong, and therewith shee arose vp and beganne to descend from that little mountaine to­wards the waters side, at such time as Phoebus finished his accustomed course.

¶Of all that happened vnto this faire Lidia and to the Prince Eleno, after they departed from the little moun­taine whereas they met. Chap. 19.

BY reason of the great darknesse of the night, and againe for that they woulde take som [...] rest, they woulde not enter into the Barke at that present. The Damosell Lidia that night entered into the Tent somewhat to rest her wearie limmes, but the Prince re­mained without whereas he walked vp and downe all the night. And as the solitarie night is an enimie vnto quiet­nesse, so béeing alone there came to his remembraunce ma­nie thinges past, which caused him to sustaine sundrie pas­sions, wherefore to comfort himselfe, hée went vnto his Galley for his Lute, and retourning a lande, he sate him downe behinde the Tent, and beganne to put his Lute in consort, although the force of loue bée more full of discord [Page] then concorde. So when his Lute was in right tune, h [...] beganne foorthwith to play vpon it, and with a sweete and pleasaunt voice he sung these vearses following.

When he had made and end of this song, with the great griefe that he sustained he fell into a sound, so that his Lute fell out of his hands, but within a small time he came againe to himselfe, and crossed his fingers and wrong his handes, and distilled from his eyes many [...]al [...]e and sorrowfull teares, and lifting vp his eyes vnto heauen he remained in this case a greate while without anie remembraunce. This sorrow­full Ladie did well heare and vnderstand this swéete and cheerefull song, but by reason that all her minde was vpon [Page 106] her cruell Brenio, his delicate musicke had no strength to re­moue [...]ne [...]ot of her loue. In this sorte as you haue heard they passed all the night till the morning, so [...]he daie b [...]ing come, this fayre and afflicted Ladie arose vp and went out of the Tent, whereas shee [...]ound the Prince walking vp and downe, and with a sorrowfull and softe voyce she reque­sted him once againe to take her out of that vncharitable I­land. The Prince without anie tarrieng tooke her by the hande and lead her into his Galley, wherin they were scant both well imbarked when that the Gally beganne to shoue from shoare, and to saile with such swiftnesse that in a smal time they were in the deapth of the great Sea, as though he which did gouerne it had bene the wise Artemidoro, who for the deliuerie of this sorrowfull Damosell had ordeined all this that you haue heard. This Ladie was verie much ama­zed to see her selfe carried awaie in that manner, and durst not aske the prince anie manner of question, for that he was verie sadde and pensiue. Likewise the Prince Eleno conside­ring the great sorrow and trouble that Lidia receiued, d [...]rst not saie anie thing vnto her, so in this sorte they trauailed all that daie and all the night, till the next daie that they dis­couered lande, without speaking one worde the one to the other, and in a small time the Barke came so nigh the lande, that they might discouer a verie faire and well [...]owred [...] ­tie, the which was adorned with a verie faire hauen, full of meruailous greate and strong shippes. So this Galley sailed in amongest the thickest of them all till it came to the shoare side, where at theyr ariuall, they discouered a land, a verie well fough [...]en and bloudie battaile, beeing harde by the hauen, which was made by verie manie knights, which fought onely against thrée knightes, who balyauntlye did defende themselues, the one of them was Bargandel, the other two, Lyriamandro and Zoylo the Tartarian, that if you dooe remember, when that the vaylaunt Rosicleer in mortall battayle slewe the king of Tiro, who was a verie mightie and strong Gyaunt, and howe that they sawe [Page] a good waie from them two Foistes, in battaile together the one with the other, and determining to goe vnto them to see what it should bee, the valiant Rosicleer leapt into his Gal­ley, which was carried another way with so great furie, that Zoilo was driuen to remaine, & he departed in great hast. So this Tartarian Zoilo remaining alone in his shippe, directed it towards them that were in battaile, and came vnto them at such time as they had great né [...]e of his succour, for that they were oppressed by the same ship of the rouers that met with him, and they were in a meruailous great fight, but with the aide of the Tartarian, they assailed them in such sort, y^t if they had not yéelded themselues to mercie, they had sonke them all in the sea, & taking all their oths they made them to sweare that they shuld leaue that euill and naughtie life. Then they all entered into the ship wherin the Tartarian was, with de­termined purpose to proceede forwards whether their fortune would carrie them for to get them fame, and to increase their honour. So the weather constrained them to ariue in the port of Numidia, whereas you haue heard tolde, in that countrie they did constraine all knights that there did ariue, to sweare vnto them to aide and helpe that traitour their Lord. These Princes would not be sworne except first they wold declare the cause wherefore, and héerevpon they multiplied wordes, which was the occasion of this cruell battaile, which y^e prince Eleno did see being in his Galley. So it séemed vnto him to be a verie vnseemely thing and vnequall, so manye against thrée knightes onely, who according vnto the great and wor­thie feates which they did, they gaue the lookers on to vn­derstande that they were of noble estate, and for to succour them hee woulde willingly haue leaped a shoare, but first hee desired the faire Lidia to remaine in quietnesse vnder the hat­ches of the Galley, for that he was determined to go forth to aide and helpe those thrée knightes. And without anie more carrieng with great speed he leapt to the shoare, carrieng his swoord in his hand, and his sheeld on his arme, he pressed in amongst them all, saying.

O vile knightes, cowardes, and of small estimiation▪ [Page 107] wherefore are you not ashamed so great a number of you to fight onely against thrée knightes, and therewith stroke such a terrible blowe on him that he did first meet, that he made him in two péeces to fall to the ground, so that in a short time by his furious entering was knowen the greate pow­er of his arme, in such sort, that whersoeuer he went, he made a broad waie, and with small trouble he ioyned with y^e thrée knightes, who when they knew of the helpe that was come vnto them, each of them recouered new strength, and did pro­cure to doe straunge feates, because the other should haue no aduauntage of them. And they verie much meruailed who that knight should be of so great prowesse, for y^• the blowes which he stroke might well be knowen from all the rest, for if it had not bene by the armour that he wore, they woulde haue thought him to be one of the sonnes of Trebatio. These foure knightes kept so good order in their fight against their enimies, that they gaue ouer to fight with them, and began to showte and crie against them, so that they were constray­ned to goe and séeke their enimies, the which they founde to be no good remedie, for that they did intreate them euilly at their backes, and béeing verie angrie héerewith, they determi­ned to put themselues amongest the thickest of them, which did not fall out well with them, for that there was of them together more then ten thousand, the which this valiant E­leno séeing, he threw his shéeld at his backe, fullye incensed with anger, and with his swoorde in his hande all alofte, hée pressed vnto that parte whereas most people were, and the first he met withall, hée parted him in the middest, and the second hée cut off his head, and so went forwardes cutting and wounding nowe one and then another, with so greate furie, that there was none that durst abide his blowes. Is there anie doubt that whilest this Prince was thus trou­bling and molesting his enimies, that the other thrée knights which were with him did stande by and looke on, no not so, but for to sociate his worthie actes, they wrought such wonders in armes, as the reporte woulde séeme almost in­creadible vnto the hearers, in striking such terrible blowes [Page] that they séemed to be no humane creatures. They did fight with so much courage that their enimies wer constrained to withdrawe thēselues back, it was a great trouble vnto these knights that they were a foote, for if they had bene on horse­backe all foure together, without doubt verie quickly they had made an end of the conquest, so being in this conflict they [...]awe come foorth of the citie a great number of knights, and before them came a well proportioned Gyaunt, armed with verie fayre and rich armour, who with great hast came vnto the place whereas the knights were, and when he sawe the great harme which was there done, with a terrible and fear­full voice he sayd.

Oh immortall Gods, is it possible that foure knights hath done all this harme, that a thousand of very good knights are not able to doe, and is their strength and pollicie such, that not one of thē haue receiued anie hurt. O wretched knights what had you rather to die in my power then to sweare vn­to so iust a demaund as they haue asked of you in y^e behalfe of the king Noraldino. Then Lyriamandro who hearde the wordes which the Gyant had sayd, aunswered. There is not one of vs, that for the feare death will sweare vnto anie thing, but first we wil knowe if the cause be iust, because we will not fall vnto anie crime of that which shall be contra­rie vnto the order of knighthood. So then I doo perceiue said the Gyaunt, that you do not purpose to sweare in any thing except it be first declared vnto you what it is, and the occa­sion thereof. To the which aunswered Zoylo, no. Well héere I sweare vnto you by the high Gods (sayd the Gyaunt) that I my selfe alone will bring you all to that staye, that you woulde willingly sweare, but then you shall haue no time. And therewith he drewe out a broade and glistering swoord and flourishing therewith he pressed forwardes, then the Prince Eleno stepped foorth and requested the other that they would let him alone with y^e gyant, the which although it were against their wills, yet they consented to it, and the other putting themselues all on the one side, they beganne againe theyr mortall battaile. The Gyaunt with the greate [Page 107] furie hée had, did discharge his blowe, but it was in vaine, for that the Prince did let it slippe by, in such sorte, that hee coulde not strike him, and in putting the blowe aside, hée cut the sayde Gyaunt vppon one of his legges, and made a wounde, which although it were not greate, yet there ranne out of it verie much bloud. When the Gyaunt did féele him­selfe hurt, and that he sawe his bloud runne downe, hee did so kindle in ire, that he let his shéelde fall to the grounde, and laying holde on his greate and broade swoorde, with both his handes he lift it vp, and stroke at the Dacian, thinking with that one blowe to haue finished the battaile, but the Prince for that he was nimble and light, did procure straight waies to cleere himselfe from the force thereof, the which he did in such sort, that the swoorde fell downe to the ground, and by reason of the great force and furie wherewith it was discharged, the Gyant was constrained following his blowe to fall likewise downe vpon the earth. Héere the Dacian was not idle, but with both his hands stroke him vpon his strong helme with great courage, and although he could not cut it at that time by reason of the hardnesse, yet it astonished him & brought him out of his remembraunce. The Gyant which sawe himselfe in this perplexitie, with great furie in the best manner he could, tumbled himselfe on the one side, and pro­cured to arise vpon his fee [...]e, but it was not possible for him, for that he was tormented with greate and heauie blowes, and forced to fall downe againe vpon the sande, but yet as soone as he coulde, he tourned once againe and forced him­selfe to arise, but he could not doo it with such spéed, but first he must proue againe the sharpe edge of the Dacians swoord, who stroke him such another terrible blow vpon the helme, that it yéelded, and he cut his flesh. The Gyant did f [...]ele him­selfe verie ill with that blowe, and with the great furie and anger which he had, he stroke at the knight a terrible blowe which was in such sorte, that by anie meanes hee coulde not shift himselfe from it, but must needes receiue it vppon his helme, the which was with such force, that it made him to fall down to the ground, but this knight w^t great lightnes tūbled [Page] himselfe awaie vppon the sands, and in a trice he was on his feete againe, and went towards the place whereas the Gyant was, with full pretence to strike him such a blowe, that hée should not be able to make anie more resistance. The Gyant when he sawe him comming woulde haue stroken him, for to disturbe him of his blow, but he could not, for that this Da­cian stroke him such an ouerthwart blowe, that lighting on his foote, he cut it cleane off, and the Gyant chaunced a blow on his helme, that it made the knight to tumble on the sand, the gyant seeing him downe, would haue turned to haue stri­ken him againe, but he could not for the lacke of his foote, for when he thought to firme his foote on the grounde to prease forwards, he could not make a step, but gaue a terrible fall to the ground, and béeing sore troubled with the wound of his head and other wounds, he yéelded vp the Ghost, and sent his soule to whom it did appertaine. The Pagan people when they sawe their stout Captaine dead, with great showts and shrikes they pressed altogether vpon those foure knightes, but they found thē neither dastards nor cowards, but they gaue them well to vnderstand y^t they were of great val [...]ur. Then they ioyned themselues together backe to backe, and stroke such straunge blowes vpon their enimies, and with so great force and furie, that he which had receiued one blowe would not turne to them againe, with great feare they were so scar­red. Prince Eleno being incensed with anger, at the fall that he receiued by the blow of the Gyant, it caused him to claspe his sword fast in his hand, and with double furie he pressed amongest his enimies, that vnhappie he might thinke him­selfe that came to the receit of the first stroke, for that with an ouerthwart blowe, he cutte his head cleane from his shoulders, and returned vnto another, and stroke him vppon the wast, so that it had neere hand parted him in two péeces, so with such like blowes and feates of knighthood they made them to retire. And at the same time they sawe comming forth of y^e citie a great number of knights & gentlemen, which they iudged to be about sixe thousand in an armie, and all on hors backe. It could not be chosen but y^e this valiant Prince [Page 109] Eleno should haue some feare, séeing so many Knights: not­withstanding, with a loude voyce, and with great courage he layd. Excellent & valyant knights, now is y^e time, (most noble & stout warriors) that we show the great strength & courage of our heartes, by a plaine testimoniall in leauing our bodies as sacrificed vnto their wills, and our bloud to be sprinckeled abroad, receiuing more ioye and honour in our deaths, fighting in our owne defence, then to giue con­sent vnto our enimies in ouercomming vs. Notwithstand­ing, this young warriour did not forget himselfe, but rather with more furious blowes he pressed on his enemies, and working such terrible feates, that it is very wonderfull to be heard: and so without all hope of their liues, commit­ting themselues vnto God, they did procure by all meanes, to cut off and make lesse their enemies, killing them in such sort, as it séemed to mans capacitie impossible. The quan­titie was so great, that by reason of the bolud that ran from them, the water on the sea side was made red, and lost his naturall colour, and being in this conflict, there approached all that great companie that came foorth of the Citie. And before them all there came a Knight armed with very faire and rich armour, all gylded, and something of a good stature and bignesse of body, & he had on his head a royall crowne: who when he came vnto the place whereas this bloudy bat­taile was, he comma [...]nded all the people to stand aside, and with a seuere voyce, showing great humilitie, he sayd. Uali­aunt and worthy Knights, whom Iupiter defend and kéepe, I f [...]le my selfe very sore troubled, in séeing Knightes of so great valour and worthinesse as you are, to be indued with so much crueltie against your selues, and onely for not swe­ring an oath, (considering you haue chaunced vpon this ad­uenture) whereby you should make defence against so great treason againe me practised, of traitours, which onely by ty­raunnie pretende to take away my kingdome from me. To the which words, the valiaunt Prince Eleno made answer, and sayd. If thou hast iustice on thy side, as thou saist thou hast, wherefore doo you consent to suffer so vyle a custome [Page] in this your Countrey, constraining all straunge Knights by force to sweare vnto your defence, the which by [...] and order of Knighthood they must doo it of their owne free wil, if you giue them to vnderstand the truth therof. To whom the King answered and sayd, Gen [...]le Knight, all this which hath bene done, was neuer by my commaundement, but by this my Captaine whom thou hast heere slaine. And for that I did vnderstand the great harme which he did, & that with­out all reason, I am come hether to remedy it: for which cause I doo desire and pray you, to let the [...] of your strōg armes to cease, and to pacifie your s [...]ou [...] courages, and to take in good part, to come and rest your selues with me, the which you may doo with all securitie. And heere I do promise you to holde and kéepe my faith and word the which I doe giue vnto you: and then wil I declare vnto you all my trouble, whereat you will not onelye take greate contentment to sweare that which I shall request you: but also I beléeue that you will of your worthinesse take the demaunde to bée your owne, according vnto the great right and Iustice, that I haue on my part. So these foure Knights were satisfied of all that this Morish King had promised vnto thē, & by his words were ouercome and yeelded vnto that which hée had demaunded of them, and were determined to go with him: at y^e which, y^e King receiued no small ioy, for to haue so vali­ant Knights w^t him in his companie. Then y^e King alighted and caused them to put vp their swords into their sheathes, and did them as great honour as though they hadde ben in their owne Countries. Then the Prince Eleno seeing how that all things were finished, he determined to goe for his faire Lidia, but when the King knew who she was, himselfe did beare him companie, and tooke her out of the galley, and brought her a shore. All that did beholde her, did meruayle at her great beautie, beeing mixed with so much sadnesse. So the King tooke her by the hand and bare her company, till he came vnto the Citie, and carried her vnto his pallaice, which was very rich and great, for this king was one of the migh­tiest Princes in all Africa. So straight way it was cōmaun­ded [Page 109] to make ready dinner, for that it was very néedfull, the which was accomplished very sump [...]uously. When they sate downe to dinner, they pulled off their helmes, which before that time they had not done: and when the Prince Eleno had pulled off his healme, all the rest did thinke verelye, that it had bene the valiaunt Knight Rosicleer, (for that as I haue tolde you) he was very much like him) complaining for that he had kept himself so close, without shewing what he was in so long time. The Prince with a smiling countena [...]ce did put them out of al doubt, in showing them who he was of the which they remained very much amazed, & for all that, if he had had a little more beard, they would not haue belée­ued him. The King was very well content and pleased that he had such Knights in his company, & told vnto thē a great circumstance of treason, cleane contrarie to that it was, ap­plying all the iniurie to be offred vnto himself, mingling his tale with counterfet teares, which caused these Knightes to giue credit vnto his words, in such sort that they did sweare vnto the King all that he would demaund, of the which this traiterous King remained greatly contented, and ordayned for thē very faire & rich chambers to ease thēselues, with all seruice néedfull, & likewise for y^e faire Lidia, for he lodged her in the Queenes chamber, & caused many Ladyes and Dam­sells to come and beare her companie, and to serue her in all that was necessarie, for that he perceiued how the Prince E­leno did receiue great pleasure therein. In the end of twen­tie dayes that these Knights had soiourned with the King, there came one and aduertised the King, how that ther was arriued in the port of the Citie, a faire ship, and how y^t ther descended out of her a Knight, and a well proportioned Gy­aunt: and by reason that they would not hearken vnto the accustomed oath, which they that didde arriue there shoulde sweare, that there was begun a meruailous and stout bat­taile, with them that did keepe the Port, wherein the knight did meruailous & worthy feates, and likewise y^e Giant. The which being heard by those knights y^t wer with y^e king, they called for their armor, & wer w^t a trice armed, & there were [Page] brought vnto them very faire and strong horses, which the King had commaunded to giue them, and mounting on their backs, in great hast they went out of the Citie to the hauen side, to the same place whereas they fought theyr owne bat­taile, whereas they founde these two knights with no lesse rigor & furie, then they themselues were before. So straight way, three of those Knights did knowe, who that Knight & Gyant was, which were in battaile, & sayd, that it was Cla­uerindo and the King of Sardenia, whom I told you depar­ted out of Greece in the quest of the Emperour, and by for­tune they were driuen into those parts, for that the King might haue more ayde for to execute his tyranny. Then the valyant Zoylo pulled off his helme and sayd. What is the matter valyaunt Prince, that you show your selfe so furious against him, which in all poynts is redy to be at your com­maundement. At which words, the Prince lift vp his eyes, and when he behelde those thrée Princes and knewe them, he very much meruailed to see them, and lefte off his battel, and so likewise did Bramidoro, and all thrée w^t their armes abroad, came to imbrace him. And Clauerindo saide, It had not gone very well with vs in this conflict, if these knights had not knowen vs, and in saying these wordes, he threwe his armes about their neckes with great ioye that he recey­ued to sée them: and with no lesse ioye and pleasure all the rest did showe themselues & sayd. We are those which haue most gotten in the knowing of you, for that we haue put a­part the great battaile that was prepared for vs. So with the like courtesie they receiued the Prince of Dacia, who, if that the other had not tolde him what he was, he wold haue beleeued that it had bene Rosicleer. So with these and such like reasons, at the request of the other Princes, they went with them vnto the Citie, at such time as the King came foorth, accompanied with a faire companie of Knightes and verye well armed, who receyued them with great cour­tesie, & caused y^e prince of Fraunce to ride w^t him side by side. So they altogether returned vnto the Citie, and then to the Pallaice, whereas they were meruailously well intertained, [Page 111] and there the King tolde vnto them all his contrarie and chaunged treason, wherefore these two knights did swear [...] and promise vnto the King, the same which the others had done. The prince Clauerindo had so great affection vnto the Prince Eleno, that he would not at any time departe from him, neither would the Prince Eleno doo otherwise vnto Clauerindo, declaring vnto him all his euills and strange ad­uentures. At which communication was present the king of Sardenia, and when he heard him tell of his aduenture in Tinacria, and of the battaile that he had made with Tefe­reo, and how that he was ouercome, he with more affection behelde him, and requested him to heare the whole estate thereof. So the Prince did declare all, and how that hée de­parted, and how that afterward he found the princesse Lidia, that Lady which carried the Emperour out of Constanti­nople: the which being all knowen vnto them, they would straight way goe and visite her, and she receiued them with her accustomed sadnesse.

Now for that I haue long time forgot that noble Em­perour, I will retourne, and tell you what happened vnto him, at the fountaine of Tinacria, where I lefte him.

How that the Emperour went vnto Tinacria, and of all that passed in the battaile, which he had with the Earle of Modique. Cap. 20.

IN great trouble and affliction we lefte the valiaunt Emperour Trebatio, in the Iland of Tinacria, harde by the fountaine of mar­ble, at such time as the Earle of Modique with his speare in his reast, was prepared for to hurt him. The Emperour seeing him come, he had greate care of himselfe, and being in a place that neither to the one parte nor to the other he coulde slip backe to saue himselfe from that blowe, he did determine to stoope with both his knées and shorten in his bodie, for that he was sure he coulde not ouerrunne him with his horse, by reason [Page] of the fountaine that was at his backe. The Emperour de­fended himselfe in such sort, that the speare without dooing him anie hurt went ouer his head. The blowe was not so soone past when that the Emperour rose bolt vpright, and cast such a thrust at the horse breast, that his sword entered in vp to the hiltes. The horse when he felt himselfe hurt, gaue a leape into the aire with so great swiftnes, as though it had bene a whirlewinde, and in the ende, he fell downe to the earth with great force, & in his fall, he caught y^e Earles leg vnder him, in such sort, that he could not by any meanes arise. Heere might the Emperour haue slaine or hurte him, but hee would not, for y^• he séemed vnto him to be a knight of great estimation. Then all the people that were there, both them a foote & those on horsebacke, with great showts and shrikes they would haue set vpon him: but they could not come nigh him at their wil, for that the dead horse was betwéene them: & againe, the Earle was a shield for his de­fence, who was prisoner vnder his horse right before him. So at this instant came foorth of that faire pallaice, a great number of knights and Ladyes, and amongst them y^e faire Quéene Garrosilea. And when all the people sawe her they put themselues out of the way towards the one side, by the which the Emperour vnderstood that she was Lady of all that Countrey. She came formost of all that company, bee­ing so faire and so well proportioned, that she seemed vnto the Emperour to be as beautifull as euer he behelde any in all the worlde: she was of the age of fourtéene yeares, but yet her body was of a maruailous and great stature. She was adorned w^t very rich robes, & vpon her head a crowne of gold, which was very great, placed with such grauitie, as her state required. And when she drew nigh vnto the place whereas this warriour was, she verie much meruailed at his w [...]ll proportioned bodie and good disposition, and at the se­uere and faire countenaunce of the Emperour, and tourning vnto him, in the Tuscan tongue she sayd.

Worthy and valyaunt Knight, whatsoeuer thou arte, thou doost séeme vnto vs, that thou art a straunger. Not­withstanding, [Page 112] thou must not thinke that thou art in a place, whereas shall be done vnto thée any thing without reason, although I doo not know, how thou canst excuse thy selfe, for dooing of all this harme, which I sée thou hast done vnto so valiant and worthy Knights, as these which I doo sée dead before thée, onely by the strength of thy arme. And wherein I may most excuse thee, is in their small prowes: for al­though they were armed, and thou naked without armour, yet had they neither power nor force to bring thee vnto pri­son. And therefore, seeing their small force, I determined, bee­ing a woman and a damo [...]ell, to come forth of my pallaice, to make an ende of that: which without great harme and damage could not be ended by Knights. Therefore nowe séeing there is no other remedy, I doo desire thée that thou wouldest yéeld thy selfe to be my prisoner, and giue vnto me the glorie and triumph, that so many worthie Knights could not attaine: and put thy whole trust and confidence in me, and I doo promise thée that no man shall doo thée any wrong, or offer thee any thing against reason.

The Emperour did well vnderstand all that the Quéene had sayd vnto him, but he made as though he did not vn­derstand her, and tourned to aske her what she had sayd, in saying, that he did not vnderstand the language, and howe that he was a Grecian borne. Then the Quéene who was very discréete, and could speake the Gréeke tongue very wel, renewed her tale, and spake that in the Gréeke, which before she had done in the Tuscan tongue. Then the Emperour boowed his knées to the earth, and with an humble voyce, he sayd. I cannot deny, most excellent & faire quéene, y^e great grief which I haue, for that which I haue done, neither can your knights deny y^e iust occasion y^t I had to do it. For they finding me a sleep & taking my rest by this fountaine, being constrained thereto, by the trauaile I receiued at sea, and be­ing cast aland in this your countrie, they did [...]ntreate me as they would not intreate a plough man, constraining theyr courtesie against my will, and doing that, which the graui­tie of my heart would not permit.

[Page]In the ende séeing that they did so ill intreate me and in such manner, I did determine first to dye, then to yéeld my selfe vnto them as prisoneer, neither would I haue altered my intent, if it it were not now by occasion of your greate beautie, accounting my selfe happie to die at the commaun­dement of so excellent a Lady: all this time that the Empe­rour was speaking vnto the Quéene, she neuer withdrew her eyes, from beholding of his personage, and had great ad­miration to see the Maiestie of his countenaunce. O cruell Cupide, wilt thou nowe beginne to vse thy accustomed mallice. O false tyrant, I can neuer talke in these or suche lyke matters, but thou art alwayes at hande. This quéene was so blinded with loue, that without any more conside­ration, she went vnto the Emperour, and tooke him by the hand, and made him to stand vpon his feete and sayd. Uali­ant Knight, I doo account my selfe verye happie, for that I haue had so much strength, that only with my person I haue mooued your stout courage to so great humilitie. And with this she caused him to put vp his sworde into his sheathe, and promising him safetie, she led him with her into the pal­laice, and commaunded that the Earle should be taken from vnder the horse, for at that time he had not so much strength to cleare himselfe from that fall: for that it was in suche sort, that it did broose and intreate him very ill. And when they came vnto the Pallaice, the Quéene commanded that there should be giuen him a meruailous faire and rich lodg­ing. And for the great complaints which were made of him, she commaunded, that he should be kept in good warde, al­though y^e prison which she gaue vnto him, was not so strōg, as that which the Emperour had giuen occasion vnto the Quéene to haue, & although it wer not very grieuous, yet the Emperor could not choose but feele it, when he saw himselfe locked vp, being neuer accustomed vnto any such trouble: the Quéene had great care of him, and caused him to be healed of those small wounds which he had, and that with great di­ligence, in such wise, that in a small time he was whole of his paine, swellings and other griefes. In all this time, the [Page 113] Earle and all the kinsfolkes of them that were slaine, made great hast and sute vnto the queene to execute iustice vppon this knight that was prisoner, but she did defend the case ve­rie much, and excusing him in declaring vnto them the small right she had to doe it, and giuing them to vnderstand how that they had their paiment according vnto their deserts, but by reason of the great importaunce that those knights made, she was constrained to keepe him straighter in prison, which was vnto her so greate paine, that she could scar [...]e dissemble it. So the Quéene beeing thus sore troubled shee went vnto her chamber, and there was betwéene her chamber and that, where as the Emperour was but one wall, and out of the Queenes chamber there went a doore, whereas manye times shee communed with him. Thus béeing verie pensiue and sore troubled, for that she was constrained to commaund that which her heart would not consent vnto, she went her selfe close vnto the doore to sée if she might comfort her selfe with the sight of her prisoner and captiue, and she chanced to come the [...]her at that time as the Emperour did complaine verye much of his fortune, vttering meruailous pittifull and sor­rowfull wordes. ‘Oh cruell fortune without all stabilitie, en­uious, and the onely causer of all my vnquietnesse, I see that no mightinesse nor the power of anie Monarch is sufficient to bridle thy disordinate appetite. Art not thou content in do­ing me so great euill, in y^t thou broughtest me out of my wor­thie Empire, cleane contrarie to the will of my subiects, and didst not holde fast thy wheele till such time as thou haddest deliuered mée into the handes of straunge people. It hadde béene better for me to haue dyed in the deapth of the Sea, or else with the edge of the Swoorde lyke a knight, then to sée my selfe in the power of barbarous people. O Emperour Trebatio, now after so many and great troubles in the which thou hast séene thy selfe, and hast ouer passed them, and by this misfortune thou art put vnto that greate necessitie, that neyther thou cannest profite thy selfe of thy valyaunt cou­rage, neither of the strength of thy worthye and valyaunt knights.’

[Page]And so in such like anguish he walked vp and downe the chamber, and swore that if he did sée himselfe at liber­tie, he would not giue credit vnto anie such faire wordes as the queene had promised him, and sometimes he threw him­selfe vpon his bed, calling for his valiaunt sonnes, and his wise men, saying. Oh my sonnes and my friends, if that you did know of all these my troubles, I am sure that you wold giue mee aide and succour with the strength of your armes, in leauing this Iland desolate, which by you was once re­stored, & now as it is happened to the hurt of your Father: or at least wayes, if thou Lyrgandeo or Artemidoro, or anie of you would giue mée succour with my armour and horse, I dooe héere sweare vnto you by the almightie God, that in the anger and furie that I am in, that in spite of all Tinacria I would set my selfe at libertie, and leaue them so plagued as their deserts do deserue. And with this he helde his peace for a while, and looked round about to see if he could finde a­nie place where he might get out, and séeking he found a ve­rie fayre and well proportioned Lute, hanging vpon a naile on the wall, the which he tooke downe and did put it in tune, and beganne to plaie with verie swéet melodie, accom­panied with a verie heauie and harmonious voice, & against fortune he sang these verses following.

And thus making an end of his song, he threw his Lute vpon his bed, and turned vnto his accustomed vnquietnesse, and agayne complaining of Fortune he sayd. ‘O vile coward and ingratefull, tell mée where is thy habitation, and thou shalt see if this whéele in the which thou goest, canne profite thee anie thing or deliuer thée, that both thy selfe & the whéele be not broken all too péeces by my strong hande, if I goe out from hence: and I will neuer rest till such time as I haue found thee, and although thou doest hide thy selfe in the deepe and infernall places, yet will I not leaue to followe thee tyll such time as I haue rooted out all thy power. ’These and other lyke wordes this sorrowfull Emperour vttered, with so great anger, y^t if he had found himselfe with armour, there had béene no doubt but that he would haue broken the cham­ber whereas hée was prisoner, and in spite of all Tinacria haue set himselfe at lybertie. The Quéene which was hear­kening vnto all that which the Emperour sayde, was not so much kindeled with the loue of the Emperour before, but nowe it increased without measure, when shee heard and vn­derstoode what hée was, and if it had not béene for the respect of her estate, out of all doubt shée had entered in where as the Emperour was, but brideling her owne will, conside­ring what an euill reporte shée shoulde haue amongest her subiectes, if they should by anie meanes attaine to the know­ledge thereof. With this and such lyke extremities shee re­mained a greate while silent, till such time as the force of loue did so ouercome her, that shée forgot cleane all that tou­ched her honour and royall maiestie, and determined to open the doore, which without anie delaie she didde, which straight wayes the Emperour hearde, and thinking [Page] to be some other thing, he arose vpon his féete, and tooke his swoorde in his hande (for the Quéene woulde neuer consent that his swoorde should be taken from him,) and when hée sawe that it was the quéene, he did quiet himselfe, and dis­sembling his anger in the best wise he coulde, the Quéene drew neere vnto the Emperour, and dissembling what shée had heard, she saluted him and sayde.‘Gentle knight, howe doo you féele your selfe of your passed trauaile. To whom he answered, I can make no other answere, most mightie La­die, but the verie same which you your self may think, if you were prisoner, especially for such an occasion, as you ought rather to receiue fauour and camfort, and therefore I cannot but muse at your highnesse, knowing in howe little fault I am, that you set me not at libertie, but I doo well see that you are a Damosell and subiect vnto the will of your subiectes, for looke what they ordaine you dare not resist against them, therefore faire Ladie I dooe desire you if you pretend to set mée at libertie (as by promise and iustice you are bound) let it bée out of hand, and if anie of your subiects will say to the contrarie, I request the acceptation of the battaile for the defence of my right, with eight or tenne, or if they will, with twentie of the best in all your kingdome, and I doubt not but in mine owne person against them al, to deliuer my selfe from this enthralled perill: vnto whom the queene answered with a verie good grace. I dooe well vnderstande gentle Knight, that the highnesse of your heart cannot suffer such straight imprisonment, as well for that which I haue seene of thee, as also for that which I haue heard. So likewise thou maist well beléeue, that which I haue done, hath bene partly to content my subiects and people, for that this euill hath fal­len out vpon the person of the most mightiest man amongest them, and of this be you assured, y^t the thing which you would haue done, and so much desire, shal not be done, onely for that you are without faulte, although they charge you with it greatly, but also for that thou art Father vnto that excellent knight of the Sunne, whome in this my Ilande they ho­nour for one of the most high and souereigne Gods, as a [Page 121] restorer of the same, and againe, that it is not decent that so high and mightie an Emperour shuld in this Iland be so ri­gorously intreated, as that his cause should be determined by the tearmes of iustice, vnto whome not onely they, but the whole world, willingly ought to serue, for that thou art an Emperour, and father vnto such a sonne. The Emperour was verie sore troubled when he perceiued y^t he was know­en, the which this faire Ladie marking, went forwardes in her talke, and sayd: Doe not vexe your selfe, neither bée anye whit troubled (most mightie Prince) for that you are know­en, considering that of such a one as thou art it is reason we doo estéeme, according to thy desert, neither can my captiue heart consent vnto anie other thing but the exalting of thy honour. Alasse what shall I saie, who hath receiued most wrong for their imprisonment, it hath bene onely my christal breast and captiued heart, they haue wronged thy bodie but for a time, but me, loue hath bereaued of my former libertie, in wounding my hart, so that it is almost vncurable. In this (my good Lord) you may vnderstand that I a lone am shée which hath the greatest wrong. Thou valiaunt Emperour hast taken awaie from the Earle of Modique his sonne, but thou hast robbed me (most infortunate) of my heart. Oh how much better had it bene for me to haue bene pertaker with him of death, then now to liue, not knowing what cruel loue will doo. Oh immortall Gods, how is it that you haue per­mitted that the tender hart of a poore damsell, béeing alwaies willing to offer vnto you sacrifices, and exercising of my self daily in your seruice, and now in payment of all this, you haue permitted it to be sacrificed vnto the cruell will of Cu­pide, who hath forcibly pearced my feeble heart with his fu­rious darts. I beseech thée (O Emperour) doe not denie mée this my vnreasonable demaund, although thou séest it so far to exceed the meane. Oh virginitie, thou maist well be com­pared vnto a rose, which so long as the leaues are reserued w^t ­in the bud, it kéepeth the naturall coulour, but when it once begins to blow, then doth it quickly change, euen so the flou­rishing beautie of virgins doth no sooner bloome, but Cupide [Page] blotteth it with his despiteful blemish. O foolish quéene what caused thée to depart out of the Pallaice whereas thou wer [...] at libertie and without griefe, didst thou it for to do honour vnto the Emperour, & yet not knowing him. Well, for what cause so euer it were, see now what is become of it, for that fréely thou hast yéelded thy selfe vnto him, without reseruing anie thing in thy owne power.’ All this the quéene deliuered with such sorrow and lamentation that it would haue caused a stonie heart to haue relented. But the emperour who with a single heart did loue the Empresse Briana, and moreouer béeing a verie good christian, was not moued with one of these lamentable words, neither made he anie shew of loue vnto the quéene, but wishing rather to haue had battaile with one of the hardiest knightes in all the world, then to haue found himselfe so sodainly assailed by this amorous woman: wher­fore when this faire Ladie had plainly declared all the whole secret of her heart, the Emperour vsing his accustomed dis­creation, did shew himselfe to be verie heauie and [...]ad for that which the quéene had heard, and taking her by the hand they sate downe together vpon the corner of the bed, and beganne to answere vnto her amorous reasons, although not so much vnto her purpose as she desired, saying.

‘ [...] Ladie and quéene, I am fully certified that from so [...] and beautie there can procéed nothing without [...], and therefore I did now loose the confidence of your [...]uour, when I was vnknowen, much more nowe that you [...] know me to be the Emperour of Greece, the truth wher­of I doo héere confesse. And although I finde my selfe in the land where all the people be my mortall enimyes, yet for all that I will not denie who I am, because my heart where­soeuer it becomes, cannot but vse manifestly his noble cou­rage. Heere this Quéene did cut off his answere, saying: Oh Emperour I doo not aske of thée anie recompence, neither doe I demaund of thée whether thou be our enimie or our friend, but the thing which I alone desire of thée is this, to giue a remedie vnto this my paine, & a plaister for my sore, for that the viewe of thée hath béene the onely occasion ther­of. [Page 122] Oh Emperour, what trifling is this, to talk of that which is not aunswerable vnto that which I demaunde: Oh wor­thie Emperour, haue compassion on me, for that thou alone maist remedie this my euill, for thou séest apparauntlye the néede I haue of thy helpe: Oh that it had pleased the Gods that my remedie were as sure as thy libertie, restore vnto me (I beséech thée) that wherof thou hast bereaued me by behol­ding thée, yéeld vnto me O swéet Emperor, séeing that I am alreadie yéelded vnto thée, insomuch that there is no doubt, but to put into thy handes the spoyle of my royall marry­age.’

The Emperour did leane his chéeke vpon his hande ve­rie pensiue, all the time that this Ladie was declaring her complaintes, not for that he was without pittie, but for that he was mooued with greate compassion, and yet not with de­termination to satisfie her disordinate appetite, but with faire words to put her in good hope of remedie. And verye faine she woulde haue aunswered, but that shée was cut off by a Damosell which called her. The Quéene dissembling her heauinesse in the best wise she coulde, went out of the chamber to sée what they would haue, vnto whom the Dam­sell saide. Ladie, there is a messenger come from the king of Mauritania, which dooth tarrie for you belowe in the pal­laice, wherat this faire quéene did féele her selfe troubled, the occasion was, for that this king was in loue with her, who was verie valiaunt and of great force, and began to gouerne his kingdome verie young, with another brother of his, who at that time was not knighted, neuerthelesse to heare him named in all Africa, it made the people to tremble with feare, therefore manie times by reason of his greate pride his fame was much abated. This king did determine with himselfe to marrie with the Quéene, eyther by fayre meanes, or else by force, and for to put this his pretence in practise, hée sent vnto her his messengers, and for a more maiestie, hée made his owne brother Lord Embassodour. And séeing this historie will most intreate of this young man who was called Brufaldoro, y^e wise author wold discouer [Page] his customes and manners, he saith y^t he was in the stature of his bodie well néere a leauen foote high, and all his mem­bers conformable vnto his height, béeing indued with incre­dible strength, he had his countenaunce verie graue and of great beautie, without anie anger, verie tractable, and a gen­tleman of great curtesie, hée detested to doo anie thing that was vnseemely, he was verie readie to correct where it was néedfull, and farre from anie vnhumane crueltie: all which vertues were extinguished when he was angered, for that then in all Africa and Asia there was no wild beast so fierce and cruell. And many times it hath ben séene, when his an­ger had ben past, he would haue weapt with great sorrowe for the hurt which he had done, he hadde one custome which was verie diuellish (béeing no small blemish vnto all the rest of his good qualities) that he woulde neuer pardon them of whome he had receiued iniurie. So when this Pagan was come into the pallaice, and in the Quéenes presence, with a graue countenaunce and hardie voice he declared his embas­sage, and by reason that at that time the quéene had not her heart at libertie, she gaue him for answere, without tarrying to take anie farther counsaile, that her intent was not as yet to marrie, for that she was verie young, wherwith this Pa­gan departed, and did returne to giue this answere vnto his brother Bramarandus, at which he was verie irefull, & com­maunded to make sacrifices vnto Mahomet, praying vnto him for to chaunge the will of the Queene, that shée might marrie with him. Then there was made aunswere vnto him (by the Diuell which hadde entered into that infernall Image of Mahomet) that hée shoulde not tarrie for anye other hope to obtaine her, but by force of armes, and that hee shoulde procure with all his strength and power for to marrie her, adding that from her shoulde procéede an in­fant, at whose valyauntnesse and strength halfe the world shoulde tremble and stande in feare. This false God did well diuine and prognosticate, but yet he did deceiue the wretched Bramarandus, in saying, that of his séede shoulde procéed such a child, & when he heard y^e answere of this accur­sed [Page] Mahomet, he commanded, y^t withall diligence should bée ioyned together, fiue hundred of the most valiantest knights that might be chosen, not onely in Mauritania, but also in Numidia and Garamantes, for that not one King of all these countryes would deny him any thing, with pretence with them and himselfe in person, to win by force that, which by faire meanes he could not obtaine: and imbarking them­selues, with a prosperous winde, they came in a small time vnto Tinacria: and before they would goe ala [...]d, they did send their Ambassador a shore, to sée if they did finde her first purpose altered. The which message was committed to a mightie strong Moore, called Forimon: who did declare it vnto the Quéene with proud and obstinate words, threate­ning them with cruel warres, if to the contrary they would not con [...]ent vnto the marriage. There was present at this Embassage, the Earle of Modique, and the Earle of Mode­li, and the Earle Farlera, and the Marques of Aposto, and many other valiant Knights: and although they made an outward showe, that they did not estéeme of it, nor made any reckoning thereof, yet they were in great feare. The good Earle of Modique with a sad voyce said. Oh mightie Iupi­ter, how well thou hast payed thy selfe for the great curtesie which thou hast showed vs, in giuing vs for our Ladyes and gouernours, the fairest damosels in the world. For not long since we did behold one of thē w^t her own hands to thrust a sword through her brest (which was a pitifull sight to sée): & now y^e other is euen at y^e poynt to doo y^e lyke. Notwithstan­ding now shall my life perish, for to maintain my honor, in y^e seruice of my Lady and Quéene. And with this, they did all determine, rather to haue warres with honour, then peace with shame: waying the little good will the Quéene had to marrie with him, & to take him for hir husband. And with this determination, they gaue him for aunswere, that the Queene was not intended to marrie as yet: so that if hée pleased to tarrie the time he might, if not, he might doo as he thought best, and that they would not let, but defende the ho­nour of their Lady and Quéene.

[Page]The messenger not well pleased with the aunswere, retour­ned to declare it vnto his Lord. And when he was gone, all the Quéenes Knights determined to fortifie themselues in the Citie, and make all things very strong, and so they gaue the Quéene to vnderstand thereof, whereof she was verye well content, séeing them so well incouraged for her defence. The daye following they commaunded to call together all the best Knights of y^e land, that they might come to her aide and succour: for that there were verye manye in that I­land. But that same night Venus would haue wrought one of her accustomed cruelties, if she had not bene hindered, as héerafter you shall heare in the chapter following.

¶How the Queene beeing kindeled with the fire of loue, and seeing that the Emperour would giue her no remedie of her paine, wold haue stroke her selfe with a sword to the heart, wherewith to haue fini­shed her life: and how the Emperour was cōstrai­ned to consent vnto her will. Cap. 21.

IN the meane time that they were putting all things in good order, as you haue heard, Cupide did not cease, but continuallye tor­mented the Quéene, so that euery daye she did not let to trouble the Emperor, with hir louing and amorous complaints, prouoking him in what she might, vnto her will, who alwayes with great discretion did delay the same, vntill the last night that they were determined to leaue the Pallaice, and to enter in­to the Citie. Then this faire Ladye indured verye greate paine, vntill such time as the cleare Diana with the fairnes of her beames, had passed the halfe part of her iourney, when that all the people were at their accustomed and naturall rest. Then this faire Garrofilea arose vp from her bed with a desperate determination, which the force of loue inforced her to practise, and couering her selfe with a very rich robe, she tooke a sword which had bene the King her Fathers, [Page] and put it vnder her lefte arme, and in her right hande shée carried a light that she might the better finde the dore, the which she opened as softly as was possible, at such time as the Emperor, was very fast a sléepe, and when she saw that he did not heare her entering in, she went vnto the beddes side, with the light in her hand, that she might contemplate her selfe in beholding the graue and faire face of the Empe­rour, and vnto her it séemed that in all the world there was not such another, nor that there could be any greater thing to be desired, then that which her heart did require. In this sort she was beholding him a great while, vntill such time, as the sorrowfull sighes Garrofilea set, caused the Emperor to awake, and when he saw the Quéene, he was very much amazed, and would haue risen vp, whereto y^e Quéene would not consent, but caused him to lye still, and setting the light vpon a table which was in the chamber, she came and sate her downe vpon the bed by the Emperour, and shedding ma­ny teares of perfect and true loue, she sayd.

‘My Lord, I wold very faine know what thou dost pre­tend towards me, most vnfortunate Quéene, wounded with the darte of Cupide, onely by the sight of thy excéeding per­sonage. For knowing it, with thy aunswere I woulde put in order, that which I haue to doo, concerning this my mi­serable life. I doo well know my Lord and Emperour, that this my bolde discouering of my selfe, hath bene too much, and beyond all reason: but if at any time thou hast loued, and doost know the great griefe that loue doth cause, thou wilt not blame me, nor put me in any fault: & I would y^t I could show thée my woūded hart, y^t in séeing it so sore afflic­ted, thou mightst take some compassion of me, & that which doth most torment me, is, that I haue yéelded my selfe vnto one, y^t hath so little pitie on me. Who hath euer heard, y^t wo­men shuld wooe & require of men to loue them? But I most vnfortunate Quéene, haue broken that lawe and custome. O immortal Gods, what haue you conceiued against me? Is not y^e apparant which you vsed against my sister, & now wil you vse it also w^t me. I shuld be requested of Emperours & [Page] Kings: and now I come to request one, that maketh no ac­count of me, neither dooth my present destruction mooue him to any pittie. Go too Emperour, make an ende and aunswere me, that therewith I may receiue either life or death.’ Héere may you, which haue knowen what loue is, iudge what the Emperour Trebatio might conceiue in himselfe, in this cru­ell case. One way he did consider the great loyaltie that he ought vnto the Empres his wife: and this constrained him to deny her. Another way, the great desire that hée had to see himselfe at libertie, and the great loue that he did know Garrofilea bare him, caused his hart somewhat to yéeld. Not­withstanding, he did procure with faire and swéete wordes, to sée if he could cause her to chaunge her thought and pur­pose saying,‘Lady, I doo sée very well, that the force of loue is so cruell, that whosoeuer he doth wound, he leueth them in a manner without remedye, except it come from them, on whō they haue fixed their heart. I doo not deny, but that your a­morous desire is such as he hath ordained it, who spareth no creature. But considering your highnesse and great estate, & the honour that all such as you are, shoulde haue by your royall marriages, I doo more reioyce that you suffer payne, then you should take your ease with that, vnto which sensu­all loue doth constraine you. Most souereigne Quéene, héere I doo desire you, to bridle your affection, and restrayne your appetite, that you fall not into that infamie, which will bée the onely blemish of your estate, séeing it appertaineth so much vnto your honour.’ The quéene séeing y^t his reasons did not incline vnto that which she desired, shortened his talk, & said:‘Emperour, all that which thou hast sayde, and all be­sides that thou canst tell me, I doo already vnderstand, and there is nothing that may be spoken héerein, but I haue be­fore this time considered of it. Notwithstanding, loue hath more force, then any regard or consideration I should haue vnto my honour. Therefore I am héere come, fully deter­mined to make a second sacrifice vnto my gods, which after­wards shall be lamented by thée.’ And in saying those words, she tooke out the sworde which she brought in secret vnder [Page 119] her roabes, and with great hast she set the pommell thereof vnto the ground, and would haue throwen her self vpon the poynt thereof. The worthy Trebatio seeing her in this des­perate minde, leapt quickly out of his bed, and with a migh­tie courage caught holde of her, and tooke the sword out of her hand, saying: Oh blinde quéene, what diuelish determi­nation is this? The Lady answered, Unlouing Lord [...], [...] other thing, but to ease my selfe by death, for that I [...] not longer liue, as one dying. And saying these words, she fell in a sound in the armes of the Emperour. Heere coulde not the stoutnesse of the Greeke heart make such resistance, but that with great loue he tooke her, and cast her vppon the bed, shedding many teares with much compassion, and considering the firmnesse of the loue that the Queene hadde showed him, he was confoūded in his owne thought, and in­forced to haue done that which hee neuer thought to haue done, and so purposed to giue her all her whole contentment: and so ioyning his mouth to hers, he remained kissing her till such time as this sorrowfull Lady came againe to her selfe. But when she perceiued she was of him so louinglye imbraced, being the thing she onely desired, she straight-way recouered all the strength that she had lost, and cast her armes about his necke with excéeding loue, which grieued not the Emperour any thing at all: & in such sort they vsed themselues, that the Queene was made Lady, with great cō ­tentment vnto them both. So with like sport they passed the rest of the night, in great ioye and pleasure. The Quéene Garrofilea when she saw that it was day, returned vnto her chamber very pleasant & merrie, vntill such time as it was her accustomed houre of [...], which was somewhat early y^t day, for that the two [...] made very great hast that they might enter into the Citie, the which was straight waye done. And the Quéene brought with her the Emperour, and made him to sweare to be her true prisoner, and not to de­part from thence without her will and leaue. So the quéene tooke the Emperour by the hand, & in this order they went out of the Pallaice: The Earle of Modique when he sawe [Page] this, could not choose, but receiue great griefe, but he did dis­semble it, for that he considered, that in such extremitie, so valiant a Knight was néedfull, and so altogether they ente­red into the Citie. The Quéene was very gallant and plea­saunt, whereat all her subiects receiued great delight, and in the chiefe stréete of the Citie, there was erected the Images of two Knights, made all of stone, of a maruelous good pro­portion, and they had ouer them a couer like a Tabernacle, very rich and well wrought, because the water shoulde not fall vpon thē, nor any other thing to hurt them. As soone as the Emperour saw those figures, he knew that the one was the Image, of his sonne without reading of the supercrip­tion: but when he came nigh vnto it, he read the same, which sayd▪ This is the great Prince of Grecia, called the Knight of the Sunne, restorer of the auncient kingdome of Tinacria, & the abater and breaker of the strength of the most strongest Giants in all the world. And going a little farther, he sawe vpon the other Knight this title: Prince Eleno of Dacia, cousin vnto the most valiant sonnes of Trebatio, the well-spring of all our quietnesse. Upon this he looked with great affection, and earnest desire to sée his perfect personage. The Quéene did well vnderstand the great ioye that the Empe­rour receiued, in beholding the figure of his sonne, and of his brothers sonne: for which cause she commanded that to be told publikely, which was spoken in secret: & then entred into the Quéenes pallaice, and the Emperour was carryed into a verie faire and rich lodging, whereas by force hée must be shut in, to make as if he were prisoner, for that the no­bles of the Realme, would not consent that he shoulde goe abroade at his will. The third daie following, this braue Bramarando with all his Knights, came before the walls of the Citie, and spred abroad their Ancients: and he himselfe vpon a fierce horse, drew towards the walls of the Citie in great hast. He was armed with very strong armour, and had at his necke hanging a verie rich horne of Iuorie, and when he came to the gate of the Citie, he lifte vp the visour of his helme and set his horne vnto his mouth, & began to sound it [Page 120] very strongly, to the end that the knights of the Citie shuld come thether to heare what he would say. So when y^e some of them, such as were néere at hand, approched, he sayd. ‘O you Knights of Tinacria, whom the souereigne Gods con­found, that according as I am informed, by your counsell, I cannot inioy as mine owne that faire Garrofilea. What doo you, that you come not forth with your armor agaynst me? and show your selues if you be as valiant to ouercome, as politike to giue counsel.’ Some of the nobles of the court, did well heare what this Pagan did say, and straight waye, they went vnto the Quéene, for to sée what was to be done in this case, to whome she aunswered. ‘My friends, you dooe well sée and vnderstand, how little knowledge I haue in such matters, béeing but a weake and fraile woman: in such a case as this is, vnto you it belongeth to take counsell, for that you are knights, and together you may establish that, which is conuenient, for héerin I haue little knowledge and can say almost nothing: ’and with this she held her peace. These Earles, séeing that with great reason the Quéene had answered them, they would argue no farther with her, but called a counsell. At which time, the King the second time did sound his horne, to call them again to hearken vnto his speach: and being attendant vnto that which he would say, he vttered these wordes. O vile Tinacrians, what doo you, why come you not forth with your armour? ‘How is it, y^t you are not ashamed to hide your selues from one onely knight, which calleth you. Héere I doo promise you, that your high walls and déepe dithes which you haue about your Cittie, shall litle profit you, but y^t you shal all dye in my hands lyke vile knights. And if amongst you ther be not one that is a­ble to make his partie good in the field with mée alone. Then come forth two, or three, or foure, or ten, for that altogether I will driue you out of the field: and if these te [...]ne be not sufficient, then come you all forth together such as are able to beare armour: for héere I doo sweare vnto you, to make you dye like cowards: but I take you to be such, y^t you will not put me to this trouble, but kéep your selues in your citie.’ [Page] The Earles did heare all that was spoken, at which word [...] they were very much grieued, but because they knewe the strength of the African, they feared much his furie, but yet shame would not suffer them to beare the force of these wordes, but did determine to goe out and take the aduaun­tage which the Pagan did offer them. So amongst them al they chose ten of them that were most estéemed: who wer, the Earle of Modique, and a sonne of the Earles, a valyant young man, being of fewer yeares, then he which the Em­perour slewe at the marble fountaine, and Fabiniano of He­na, and Robio of Yscla, and other sixe chosen Knights. So when they were armed and vpon horsebacke, they opened the gate of the Citie, and they went out into the fielde, all very well horsed. So when this King of Mauritania sawe them, he let goe his horne, and putte downe the visour of his healme, & called for a great speare, which strayght waye was giuen him by a Knight of his, and with great arrogan­cie, he went towards the place, whereas this faire companie of the ten Knights abode, and with a loude voyce he sayde that they might heare him, Who gaue you counsel to make resistaunce against my furie, for that you can finde no other thing therein but death. Then Don Rubio aunswered, none other: but onely to abate thy pride, therefore take thy choyce of the fielde, for héere I defie thée to the death. All this while Bramarando stood and beheld him with a terri­ble looke, and séeing him vse so great nimblenesse, he thought him to be a good Knight, & giuing a tourne vnto his horse, he put himselfe into his place, and béeing both readye, they spurred their horses together, & ranne one against the other, & in the midst of their course they met, & neither of them mis­sed their blow, in the which incounnter this gentle Rubio fell downe to the ground, and the Pagan somwhat stooped in his saddle, and his speare remained whole, and strayght waye he put himselfe in good order. But when he saw that all the rest which remained, did prepare themselues to make resistaunce, he could not refrayne but with a loude voyce, he sayde.

[Page 127]O vile cowards and defamers of the order of knighthood, come hether vnto me, euen all of you, for I doo no more est­éeme of you, then of one onely Knight: and so spurring his horse, he ranne against them, and they did the like, and at one time he receiued the encounter of fiue speares, albeit he mooued nothing at all in his saddle: but he did incounter the Baron of Monflet in such sort, that the speare passing tho­rough his body, he fell downe dead to the ground, and there with he tourned about his horse, with wonderfull lightnes, and drew out his sharpe cutting sword, and pressed amongst the rest, whereas began a meruailous and terrible battaile. Then the Knights of Tinacria perceiuing that they must either die or ouercom, they began to lay about them on eue­ry side, with so much furie, y^t it was sufficient to haue hew­ed an anfield in peeces. Yet for all their force, they did not séeme to molest him any whit. But he which did shew him selfe most valyant amongst them all, was the Marques of Modique his sonne, and next vnto him was the Marques of Mondeli ▪ and Don Fabinio. But this strong African layd a­bout him so valiantly, and with so great furie, that he asto­nied thē, insomuch y^t with the great furie he had, out of the visour of his helme, proceeded a thicke smoke. At this time, he threw his shéeld on his backe, and tooke his sworde in both his hands, that whosoeuer he met, he stroke him with such terrible strength and furie, that helme and head hée cut in two parts. The Earle of Mondeli was not at this in­stant vnoccupied, but with his sword fast in both his hands, he stroke him on the one side of his helme, which was verye fine mettall, that he made it sound like a bell, which caused him to turne vp the white of the eye, and he was almost beside himselfe. He had scarce giuen him this blowe, when likewise y^• Earle of Modique gaue him another, that made him to decline his head to his breast: wherewith Fabinio gaue him also another blowe, which bere [...]te him cleane of his remembrance, insomuch that his horse caried him round about the field, euen as one dead, with his armes hanging downe.

[Page]The knightes of Tinacria with greate furie did followe him, to sée if they coulde make an ende of this theyr battaile, but straight waie hée came to himselfe, and séeing how they had compassed him about, and considering into what great [...] perill they had brought him, he recouered againe his sword the which hung by the wrist bande, and tourning about his horse hee roared like a wilde Bull which had bene bayted, and pressed vnto Fabinio, and stroke him so furious a blowe, that hée carryed awaie both his shéelde and healme, with a greate parte of his head, and hée fell downe dead to the earth. Then the Earle of Modique forthwith stroke the Mauritanian such a blowe on his armes, y^t both of them were wounded, but most of all the right arme, for that the force of the blow was more on that side then on the other, where­with this furious African séeing him within his reach, with his lefte fist hee stroke him vpon the visour of his healme so greate a blowe, that without anie remembraunce hée made him to fall backwards vpon the crouper of his horse. Then the Earle stroke at him an ouerthwart blowe vppon his healme with so greate force, that hée made the sparkes of fire to flye out, the which did gréeue him verie much, and as one desperate, hée lifte vp his swoorde with greate furie to strike the Earle, who with verie much nimblenesse put him­selfe on the one side, and caused him to loose his blowe, at the which he was verie angrie, and flourishing with his swoord hée chaunced to light vppon the wast of one of them, and cutting him in two péeces hée fell downe dead to the ground, and not resting with this, but continuing his furie, he lyfted vp his sharpe and cutting sword, and stroke another a blow vppon the left shoulder, whome he diuided downe to the gir­dle. At this verie same time the valyaunt Rubio of Yscla was come to himselfe, and recouering his horse he leapt vp­pon his backe with excéeding great lightnesse, and ioyned himselfe with the foure knightes which remayned of all the rest, and there he beganne with greate furie striking on the Pagan in sundrie places, and the Earle of Modique & Mon­deli likewise did multiplie their blowes in great hast. At [Page 128] the which the Pagan was so furious, that without all pati­ence he beganne to redouble his strokes, and stroke the Earle of Mondeli vpon his healme that hee made him fall to the ground verie sore hurt, and voiding bloud out of his mouth: yet this blowe was not giuen so much at his ease, but hée must needes receiue for it foure blowes, which had almost depriued him of his wits. Heere Rubio of Yscla beganne to multiplie his blowes with so great hast, and therewithall so mightily, that he put the Pagan into great extremitie. This furious king tourned for to strike him a blowe at his plea­sure, but the nimblenesse of this Tinacrian was such, that many times he made him to loose his blowes, at the which this Pagan was verie much amazed, but because he coulde not strike him at his will as he intended, hée determined to leaue him and to returne vnto the rest, and at two blowes he ouerthrew two knights, the one starke dead, and the other verie sore woūded, so ther remained no more but he of Modi­que & Rubio of Ysola, & the earle, which turned again to hors­back, so like desperate mē without hope to escape they stroke at the furious Moore, but hée seeing himselfe more at libertie, began to worke wonders vpon them, cutting them on the right hand and on the left, in this order they trauailed more then two houres, that the strength and valiauntnesse of the Moore was not sufficient to subiect them. Then this Pagan seeing such resistaunce, he firmed himselfe in his stiroppes, and lifting vp his swoorde on high, hee stroke such a blowe at him of Modique, that without anie remembrance he made him fall vppon his horse crouper, and woulde haue doubled that blowe for to haue made an ende of him, but Rubio did disturbe him, giuing him such a side blowe vppon his helme, that hee made him to loose that which hée was▪ striking, cau­sing his swoorde to fa [...] out of his hande, that he coulde not execute it, and the Earle séeing him in that plight, straight wayes retourned another on his lefte shoulder, which grée­ued the Pagan verie sore. In this time the Earle of Modi­que was come againe vnto himselfe, and setteled himselfe a­gaine in his saddle, and being firmed against the Pagan, hée [Page] stroke him such a blowe, that glauncing he gaue him a lit­tle wound, whereout issued bloud. The Moore féeling him­selfe hurt, retourned against him of M [...]dique, but this light Rubio was with him him at a pinch, and stroke him ano­ther blowe on his shoulder, that he made him shrinke in all his bodie, of which hee made little account, but desired onely to goe vnto him which had drawen his bloud, who lykewise with greate courage did attend his comming, hauing both his handes on his swoorde, so they discharged theyr blowes both together, which were verie mightie and strong, where­with he of Modique, all his healme béeing bathed in bloud, fell without anie remembraunce to the ground, and the furi­our Pagan in spite of his heart declined his head to the horse necke. Then the valiant Tinacrian quickly turned to strike him, and before that he could rayse vp himselfe againe, hee stroke him so strong a blowe, that without all remembrance he made him to stagger vpon his horse, y^t hée lacked verie little to fall to the ground. The Tinacrian séeing him in this traunce, neuer lefte striking him vntill such time as he did see that hee beganne to come againe to himselfe, and know­ing that hes power was not sufficient to make resistaunce, hée tourned his horse head and with all hast rode towardes the Citie, in such sorte, that when the Moore was wholye come againe vnto himselfe, the Tinacrian was in safetie, wherein he did wiselie, for if he had tarryed, it coulde not haue fallen out otherwise but that hée must needes haue dy­ed by the handes of the cruell Pagan. Then the Morisco king séeing all the field cléere and without trouble, hée felte himselfe to bée verie sore vexed with the spéedie blowes which the Tinacrians had bestowed vpon him, and comman­ded to carrie those knightes which were aliue from the rest, vnto the tent whereas hée should [...], and he likewise went to take his rest and ease, for that it was verie necessarie & néed­full, and was quickly cured of that small wound which he re­ceiued. And as for them of Tinacria, he willed y^t they should pronounce their healths with many remedies, & intreat them honourablye, for that he knewe verie well what they were, [Page 123] Rubio when he came into the Citie, without anye tarrying went vnto the Pallaice to declare vnto the quéene her vn­happie successe. The quéene with great seueritie, not show­ing anie sorrowfull countenaunce, aunswered, that he should goe and take his rest, and cure his wounds, saying, that shée had such confidence in her Gods, that they would remedie all these euills, and without anie more tarrying, she arose from the place whereas she was set, and went vnto the Emperors chamber, & told vnto him all that had passed, & of that which happened, in the next chapter▪ I will declare.

¶How the Emperour went into the fielde with the Pagan, and of all that happened in the battaile betweene them. Chap. 22.

WHen the quéene came where the Emperour was, she tolde him all that had happened in the battaile, as I haue before sayde, of the which the Emperour receiued no griefe, but rather he was verie well content therewith, yet not shewing anie signe thereof vnto the Quéene, he sayde. Ladie, take no griefe at this which is past and gone, for that God will vndoubtedly prouide that which shall bée requisite for thy defence. Commaund that I may be prouided of verie good and strong armour, for that I haue so great a confidence in my God to abate the great pride of this Pagan. This shall be done with a verie good will aun­swered the Quéene, for I will giue thée such that no strength shall bée able to pearce it, the which did belong vnto the king my Father, and straight wayes at the houre appointed, shée commaunded them to be brought, the which were of the cou­lour of a verie fine Rubie, all to be spangled with verie de­licate and glistering stars of gold, and all the grauings were garnished with rich orientall pearles, wrought with greate subtiltie. The shéeld was of the same coulour, and the fielde therof was a mightie great starre which couered all y^e whole shield, they were such that no Prince or Lord euer had y^• like. [Page] The Emperour when he saw them he would straight of his owne good will haue armed himselfe and haue gone out into the field, but the queene would not consent vnto it, but they passed that night together with great ioy and pleasure, which was so much, that I dare not héere with my pen declare it, but of this I am sure, that when the Quéene departed from the Emperour she remained with child, as héereafter you shal heare. So▪ when the morning was come, the Emperour arose vp with great desire to goe out to the battaile, and straight waies there were called certaine knights onely for to arme him with those rich armes, and the faire Quéene Garrofilea did helpe to arme him, and when he was armed he went out of the pallaice, and at the foote of the stayres he found a very faire and strong horse, who was verie richly barbed and wel shodde, and calling for a horne he hung it about his neck, and tooke his leaue of the Quéene, and so without putting his foot into the stiroppe he leaped vpon this mightie horse, and then béeing accompanied with a companie of noble Knightes, he went out of the Citie, not without great griefe vnto them all, which pra [...]ed earnestly for his returne. And when he was in the field wheras he might be heard, he lifted vp the visour of his helme and set the horne vnto his mouth, and began to make a fearefull sound, and after that he hadde done with a high voyce he sayd. Thou fierce Pagan that with so greate [...]ase lyest in thy bedde, and boastest thy selfe that there is none in the world that can bring downe thy proud stomack, take vnto thée thy armour, and doo thy best to driue mée out of the fielde, for I doubt not but before thou doe it, thou shalt finde in me some resistance: and with this he held his peace. This stout Pagan which at that time was at his rest, was sore troubled, and could not imagine who that knight might be, which was so arrogant, that he durst alone call him into the fielde, and desiring to knowe what he was that was so hardie, he caused to bée brought before him the Earle of Mondeli, & the Earles sonne of Modique, and with an irefull voice said. Did you heare with what great pride that knight hath spoken and challenged me. The Earles answered, yea, [Page 124] then he sayde: Who haue you in Tinacria that is so hardie to call me to battaile with such vpprobious wordes, I can­not beléeue that he is of this kingdome, but if hee bée, it see­meth he should be some vaineglorious foole and one of little vnderstanding. The Earle of Modique aunswered, I dooe sweare vnto thée O king by the souereigne Gods that I am in the same doubt: but it may be that it is a knight which a fewe daies past béeing verie ill intreated by the tempests of the sea, was driuen into this Ilande, and béeing without ar­mour he made such a battaile with certaine knights, & with so great furie and strength, that béeing as I haue sayd, with­out armour, he did meruailous and heroy [...]all feats of armes, where he slew many knights, and amongst them he slewe a brother which I had, and it may be, that the Quéene béeing desirous of his libertie, hath giuen this enterprise vnto him, and therefore I thinke that this is he that hath spoken these arrogant wordes. Well, let it be who it shall be, replied the king, for héere I doe sweare vnto thée by Mahomet that I will make him déerely to paie this his follie and hardinesse, and speaking this, he heard him sound his horne againe with much more furie then at the first, and sayd.

O vile Pagan coward and of an euill nation, thou king of little estimation, what makest thou? wherfore doest thou tar­rie? why commest thou not out to take reuengement of these my wordes? dispatch and come forth, or else vnderstand that I will come and séeke thée in what place so euer thou abi­dest: Oh mightie and vnmercifull wrath, how is it that thou hast so much power ouer this proude African, who with a hoarse voice and terrible wordes called for his armour, and because it was not brought him straight waie, he did intreat them all very ill which were nigh him, so y^t there was not one of all his knights but at y^• time would haue ben glad to haue ben far from y^e place where the king was: when he was armed he leaped vpon his horse, & with a reasonable pace hée pricked towards the place whereas the Emperour abode, who when he saw him come he threw his horne from him, and let fall the visour of his healme, and tooke a greate [Page] Speare in his hande, wherewith he flourished meruailous strongly about his head. This Mauritanian was so inflamed with wrath, that he had no minde to shew anie agilitie with his Speare, but rather with a wrathfull voice hée sayde: I doo beleeue that with the flourishing of thy Speare & braue­nesse of thy horse thou thinkest to scarre me, hauing spoken words that could not be vttered but by some foolish man, or by some knight of little estimation, or by some one that is enimie vnto Mahomet. The Emperour answered: so much thou maist saie, that thou maist happen vppon the truth, and héere I giue thée to vnderstand, that I am a Christian and seruaunt vnto my Lorde Iesu Christ, and enimie vnto Ma­homet, and much more vnto thée, therfore make thy selfe rea­die to the battaile, and take that part of the field which plea­seth thée, & I will make thée to knowe what my Speare can dooe. The furie of the Pagan was such, that he was almost without all féeling, yet he comforted himselfe in thinking to make reuengement of the wordes which he had sayde, and had a greate desire to knowe who that knight was which with so greate hardinesse and courage did speake vnto him, and hée asked it of him, saying: Knight, héere I doo giue thée lisence to speake all that thou wilt, for that thou art now in place where none can deliuer thee from my hands but onely Mahomet, neuerthelesse I doo desire thée by that God in whō thou sayst thou dooest beleeue, and that so truely & vehement­ly thou dooest serue, that thou tell me who thou art, whereby I may know what he was that hath ben so arrogant against me. Thou hast so coniured me (aunswered the Emperour) that I cannot let but tell thée. Thou shalt therefore vnder­stand y^t I am the Emperour Trebatio of Greece, father vnto those clére lights of al knighthood, the knight of y^e Sun, & that valiant Rosicleer, which by another name is called y^e knight of Cupide, if at anie time thou hast heard anie talke of them. When the Pagan heard that it was he, whose fame was so much spoken of in all the world, and no lesse feared, with­out anie more tarrying, he defied him to mortall battayle▪ and without anie more wordes they tourned theyr horses, [Page 125] and not sta [...]eng for the sound of trumpets; they pricked them with their spurs, and with great violence in the midst of their course, they brake their speares so easelye, as though they had bene made of Canes, and neither of them receiued any harme, nor once mooued out of the saddles, and turning their horses about, they layd hand on their swords. The Em­perour of Greece did first strike the Pagan king, so terrible a blowe, that he threw downe to the gound a very rich mir­rour which was vpon the crest of his helme, hauing in it, the Image of Mahomet, and it was with such strength, that it made his téeth chatter in his head. At this blowe the pa­gan did not meruaile, but rather gratified his courtesie in the lyke sort, but the Emperour did beare it off with his shéelde, and it cut off one corner thereof, and descended vpon his helme, with such force, that it made him boow his head. At the which this auncient warriour, tooke so great anger & and wrath that throwing his shield to the ground, he tooke his sword in both his hands, and stroke such a blowe at his aduersarie, that if it had not bene that he did defend it verye well with his shield, with that one blow he had finished the the battaile: but yet his shield was cut in two péeces, and the blowe glaunced from his shoulder downwards, & ligh­ted vpon the Pagans knée, whereas it made a wound, for that the bloud gaue testimonie thereof. This fierce Moore, when he saw his owne bloud, with great furie he threw frō him the rest of the shield that did remaine in his hand, and stroke such a cruell blow at this heroycall Emperour vpon his helme, that it gaue a great and meruailous sound tho­rough all the plaines and fields. The [...]urmounted furie wher with this terrible blowe was discharged, was the occasi­on, that he without any féeling fell downe vppon the horse necke with all his body. When the pagan sawe him in this case, he procured to giue him another blowe, but by reason of the Emperours stooping, he pricked his horse with his spurs, and with a little remembraunce he helde himselfe fast for not falling. His horse with great lightnesse lept on the one side, whereby this valiant. Trebatio was cleare of that [Page] blowe. And when he saw himselfe so euill intreated by that Pagan, he recouered again his sword, and clasping it fast in his fist, he discharged vpon the Moore so strong and terrible a blowe, that he made him without all remembraunce to fall backwards vpon the horse crupper, and ther issued out of his helme very much bloud, which proceeded out of his mouth and nose, and séeing him in this traunce, he sayd, I sweare by God, King, that thou hast small remembraunce, but tarrye a little, and I will make thée remember thy selfe better, and giuing a turne vnto his horse, thinking to cut off the pagans head, his tourning was with such great hast, that his horse doubled in such sort, that he fell to the ground with the Em­perour on his backe, neuerthelesse with great lightnes, with out putting his foote into the stirrop, he lept into the saddle again. But yet it could not be so quickly done, but that this strong Mauritanian was come to himselfe, and séeing that he was all be bathed in bloud, he knew y^t he had bene in great perill. Then with wonderfull courage he recouered his sword, and settled himselfe in his saddle, and with furious blowes he began to strike, so that at euery blowe, it séemed his strength did still increase, which indéede was true: for the more his wrath and yre kindeled, the more his fiercenes and strength increased, in such sort, that euery blowe which he stroke, was almost sufficient to ouerthrowe a great To­wer. All these feates the Quéene did beholde from a tower which was in the Pallaice, greatly fearing the successe of this terrible battaile, and praying with all her heart vnto her Gods for the Emperours victorie. This furious Pa­gan was halfe ashamed, for [...] he could not bring the Em­perour into subiection, although his terrible blowes didde double increase, and séeing he could not, he begun to exclaim against his Gods and sayd. Oh Mahomet, where is nowe all thy power and strength? how is it that thou dost consent that one onely Christian should make so great defence, & in­dure so long. The Emperour which heard all that y^e Moore had sayd, with a wrathfull and angry voyce, aunswered. O thou wretched infidell, how greatly art thou deceiued, in [Page 126] thinking, that he which hath no power to help himselfe, can helpe thée and deliuer thée out of my hands. I beleeue with the assistaunce of my God, before that night doo come, to heaw thée all in péeces by the strength of my armes, and héer­with he neuer ceased to strike him with so much furie, that many times he was without any féeling. Thus they conti­nued foure houres without any resting of themselues, but wounding one another. When this furious pagan saw, that he could not bring to passe his pretence, but that he was in great perill to be ouercome, he stroke such a blowe at the Emperour, that with the mightie strength wherewith it was stroken, he made him to loose his remembraunce, and forced him to stoope vnto the horse necke, and after that, he stroke his second blow vpon his backe, that the great noyse that it made, was the occasion that the Emperour came a­gaine to himsel [...]e. And he was not scarce setteled in his sad­dle, when he lifte vp his sword, intending to strike the Moore a mightie and terrible blow: the which when this Africane beheld, & knew the great strength wherewith it came, with meruailous pollicie he put it aside, and made him to loose his blowe, & at the same time flourishing with his sword, he discharged such an ouerthwart blowe vpon his throte, that if the harnesse had not bene forged by Magical art, the Em­perour had bene in great perill. Oh what great anger and furie did this mightie Trebatio féele, to sée himselfe so ill in­treated by that furious Moore, and therewith he raised him­selfe vp in his stirrops, and strake at him in such great hast, and with so great strength, that it seemed that then the bat­taile was but new begun. But when this Mauritanian saw that the Emperour had not lost any of his strength, but ra­ther that it was more increased, with a terrible and fearfull voyce he said.

O Mahomet, what is this? for that I sée, that if all the strength of Mars were héere together, it were not suffi­cient to make resistaunce against this Knight: and in say­ing these wordes, he did procure to offende his aduersarye, with terrible and furious blowes.

[Page]Amongst them all, this Mauritanian chaunced one vpon the Emperors helme, that he made him to gnash his téeth, wher with, without any remembraunce, he fell vpon y^e horse cr [...]p­per: in such sort, that the horse being scarred with the blow began to runne, and carried the Emperour in that traunce, a good while about the field. The Moore had well thought at that time that he had finished his work, & with great shouts & shriks he followed him, but all his thought was in vaine. For y^• the Emperour recouered & setled himselfe in his sad­dell, and when he saw himselfe so ill intreated, ther was ne­uer Tiger of Hircania, nor any other wilde beast so furious as he was at this time, with his great anger. Yea, he was so vexed with himselfe, that with the madnesse thereof, hée crushed his téeth together, and tourning his horse about a great deale lighter, then at any other time, he firmed well his swoorde in his hand, and lifting vp his mightie & strong arme, went whereas this Morisco king was, who in y^e like sorte came towards him, at that time the Emperour neither remembred life nor death, nor anie other thing, but to take reuengment on his enimie, procuring to bring him to cruell death, and raising himselfe vp a good spanne in his saddle, be­ing firmed in his stirrops, he strake such a blowe, that at the fall of his mightie cutting sworde, the sparkles of fire flew into the aire, and it lighted on the Pagans healme, so that all the strength thereof did little profite him [...], but hée cut his head and all downe to his stomacke, that this Pagan fell dead to the ground, the which béeing séene by his knights they gaue a meruailous and lamentable shout and crie, and without vsing anie more curtesie, they altogether put theyr Speares in their rests, and went against this strong warri­riour, all on horse backe, but héere the mirrour of all knight­hood did abide their comming with his accustomed courage, & hart? al these Moores made their encounter on him together, & many of them brake their speares, but for all that he mooued no more then if they had runne against a tower. The Em­perour séeing their vilianie, begun to reuile them w^t shame­full words, and retourning towards them, he made them to [Page] runne awaie like vile cowards. Unhappie was he that hée stroke, although it were but with halfe a blowe, for it made him that he had smal minde to returne againe, but by reason that they were verie sorrowfull and angrie for the losse of their king, many of them did strike at him on euerie side, pro­curing to defend themselues, and not to come nigh his terri­ble blowes. The Emperour then remembring that if he did not procure to come whereas the prisoners were to set them at libertie, that it wer possible that they would intreat them euill. Wherfore he put himselfe among the thickest of his eni­mies, wounding and killing all that he found in his waye, and all that he could ouertake, although his armour were as hard as Diamonds, yet he could not escape from the death, so in this sort in spite of all the Pagans he came vnto y^e kings tent, and séeing that there ioyned together much people to make resistaunce at the entering, it gaue him the more desire to enter into the tent, not knowing that the Tinacrians were there prisoners. The Mauritanians with all their powers they had made resistaunce, but their strength did little auaile them, for in spite of them all the Emperour went into the Tent, whereas he met with the Earle of Modique, and the Earle of Mondeli, who were put there in prison. At this pre­sent time Don Rubio of Tinacria when he sawe that the Moore of Africa was ouercome, and the great villanie of his knights, he made great hast to goe out of the Citie, and with eight hundred knights, all verie well armed, they pressed on their enimies with so great force, that they made them looke better about them, then before that time they did. When the Emperour sawe the diligence of this knight Rubio, he pro­cured to set the prisoners at libertie, the which thing béeing done, he sayde vnto the Earles sonne of Modique. Gentle knight, this succour doo you receiue and your honourable fa­ther, in recompence of the great griefe which I caused you to receiue, and without speaking anie more words he returned vnto the battaile which was verie much increased, but when he came amongst them it was quickly brought to an end, for by reason that they had no gouernour to gouerne them, and [Page] that the furie of y^e Gréeke was not to be suffered, they durst not abide, but with great shame they began to runne away, Then those of Tinacria did follow them till they came to the sea side, killing and wounding all that euer they coulde come by. So when the Emperour saw that all this conflict was brought to a good end, and that the valiant Rubio was by him, he called him vnto him and sayd. My friend, go and tell your Mistres the Quéene, that I request her to pardon me, for that I doo not retourne againe into her Citie, for I was so ill receiued the first time, that I haue no will to re­tourne the second. And more, I desire her of my part, that she doo intreate better, and giue better intertainment vnto such Knights as I am, then she gaue vnto me, least she get vnto her selfe the name of a wrathfull Quéene, and be accounted as one subiect vnto hir own opinion: & of all other things, if any thing doo chaunce, let her thanke none but her selfe, for that she hath bene the onely cause therof. And moreouer, I doo desire her not to trouble her selfe in sending to séeke me, for that I say, not her power alone, but all the power in A­frica is not sufficient to retourne me againe into so great straights, as once she had me in. And so without any more speaking he spurred his horse, and rode a reasonable pace to­wards the sea side, which was not farre from that place, and when he came thether, he sought to sée if he could finde by chance any barke or galley, to carry him whether he wold, with his good will or els by force. He had not gone farre, when that he sawe a very faire and great barke at the sea side, hard aboord the shoare. The Emperour entered into it to sée if there were anye marriners: his horse which was hard by him, without being constrained by the Emperour, very lightly leapt into the Barke. He was not so soone with in, when that the Barke began to make waye, in such sorte, that in a small time they were very farre at sea. At y^• which the Emperour was greatly amazed: but there was a voice, which did satisfie him, that sayd: Mightie Trebatio, Lyr­gandeo doth gouerne thee: at the which the Emperour was very ioyfull.

[Page 130]So he put his horse in a place by himselfe in the bark, wher­as he found sufficient of all things néedefull. Likewise hée found all that was conuenient for his owne person, which was ready vpon a table in very good order, all kinde of dres­sed meates: and béeing set downe to eate, he was serued so bountifully, and with so great diligence and care, as though he had bene in Greece. In this sort the emperour went sai­ling eight dayes, in y^e end of which he discouered land, which had belonging vnto it, a faire hauen or port, and nigh vnto it, a very faire and great Citie. The Barke went straight into the hauen, and brought her selfe to the shore.

Héere we will leaue y^e Emperour in his barke in y^e hauen, and will tell you of the great lamentation y^t the faire Gar­rofilea made for that the Emperour departed in such sort.

¶How the faire Queene Garrofilea made great la­mentation for the departure of the Emperour, and how at their last being together, she remained with childe by the Emperour Trebatio, Cap. 23.

AFter that all the Knights of Tinacria ha [...] ioyned themselues together, and had made an ende of their battaile and trauaile, they repaired vnto the citie with great ioy and gladnesse for their good successe. Rubio of Yscla went to declare vnto the Quéene his message y^t the Emperor had commanded him: at y^• which, the Quéene was so troubled, that she could not in any wise dis­semble it, but in a great sound strayght way she fell downe as though she had bene dead. This couragious knight when he saw her in this trance, tooke her vp in his armes, & cary­ed her vnto her Strado, or seate: & straight waies when the Ladies heard the noyse, they all came forth to sée what the matter was, & when they saw their Quéene in that traunce, they began to vse all meanes and remedies till such time as she came again vnto her remembrance. And although it was [Page] with great trouble the quéene lifted vp her [...]yes, & séeing that she was co [...]assed about with Ladies and others, shee shut her eyes againe, and gaue a great sigh which came from the bottome of her heart, and in this sort she remained a greate while, and her Ladies and Damosells▪ seeing that she was so troubled, determined to vncloath her and to carrie her to her bed. Then she made signes with her hands that they should depart and leaue her all alone, whose commandement they straight wayes obeyed, not without great sorrow of all them that did beholde her, for that the quéene was meruailouslye well beloued of her subiects. There was not one that could vnderstand the cause of this sodaine euill, but onely the earle of Modique, who discréetly did imagine what it might bée, who kept it close to himselfe at time, vntil such time as time & the matter it selfe shuld declare, whether his imagination or thought should fall out true or no. This afflicted quéene when she saw that she was alone, began to exclaime against her fortune, putting forth these sorrowfull reasons.‘When wilt thou be content thou peruerse enimie, and without all reason. Thou which hast warped such strange webbes in this Kingdome. Thou gauest me into my power the Gréeke Emperour very poore, and without all comfort of thée, and absent from all his Empire. This thou didst, for that with his sight I should be wounded with the cruell dart of loue, that without all remedie of anie comfort, I most vnfortu­nate damosell shoulde be constrained to set my life to sale, and to sell my honour as it were with the common cryar, compelling me to doo vnto my selfe that, which I onely did, being made blinde by him, which would y^t all others were as blind as he himselfe is And although me life were set at libertie, by him which without anie weapon bereaued me thereof, yet am I not at so much libertie nor so fr [...]e, but that wheresoeuer he goeth my heart doth followe him. Woe is me for my virginitie (which my parents gaue me such great charge to haue a respect vnto) that it hath bene so euill kept, and so lightly regarded me. I will so chastise my selfe for thus forgetting of my selfe, and be so reuenged for the little [Page 129] regard that I haue had of my honour, that it shall be an ex­ample to all others which be of high estate: Oh miserable Quéene, Oh vnhappie Lady, thy spéech is too too foolish: for al­though this thy desperate hand should pull out the despised heart of this miserable and afflicted bodie, yet shouldest not thou make satisfaction of the dishonour which thou hast com­mitted against thy selfe: Oh cruell death why doest thou not with thy sodaine furie set at libertie (me most vnfortu­nate) from these gréeuous paines: Oh Emperour of Greece, those louing and amorous wordes which thou spakest vnto me, I would they had neuer ben spoken: O false and decei­uing Lorde, thou shouldest haue suffered me to haue tasted death, when with so great good will mine owne hand would haue ministred it to me, and not now to cause me to indure a thousand deaths, only by thy departure.’ With these & other like lamentations this afflicted Ladie passed awaie the time, till at last she found her selfe to be quicke with childe, at the which she receyued double paine, for that it was impossible to couer or hide it, & séeing her selfe in this ca [...]e▪ like a womā hated & abhorred, she determined to discouer her selfe vnto her subiects publikely; and to deliuer her bodie vnto them to sacrifice it vnto their Gods, and with this determination one daie she caused certaine of the nobles to be called before her, who straight way came at her commaundement. Amongest the rest there came the Earle of Modique and his sonne, and the Earle of Mondeli, & the valiant Rubio, and many other knights and Gentlemen of honour, when that the Quéene sawe them altogether about her, couering her selfe with a rich roabe, shée sate vp in her bedde, beeing so leane, that all them that saw her had great compassion, béeing all set round about the bed, and kéeping silence, she sayd. ‘Our Gods would make vs so s [...]biect vnto time, that onely they doe not bring vs vnder their malitious yoake, but also altogether submit vs vnder their hands, to the end that they may liberally dooe whatsoeuer it pleaseth them, and as their mallice is more then their vertue, hauing vs so yeelded at their commaunde­ment, they dooe intreate vs lyke vnto publike slaues. And [Page] so much honour is obteyned by him which is altogether vn­fortunate, as may be gotten by anie kinde of worthinesse. Oh what base and vile things doe they cause them to doe whom they get vnder theyr winges, if it were lawfull for me to speake it I might tell you many examples of them of the olde time, where as fortune vsing her accustomed déedes, did get vnto her self many and diuers names according vnto her strange effects. Some called her Fortune, venture, or chance, some honoured her as a Goddesse for her liberalitie, others despised her as a [...]iuell for her mutabilitie: But what shall I say to you of her (my good friends) for that I cannot tell by what tearmes to name my selfe, neither dooe I knowe whe­ther she were the beginning of all my euill, or that blinde Cupide, who hath so cruelly handled me: well, which of them so euer it was, they caused me to put my heart into the po­wer of another, onely for the remedie of this my Countrie, for whose weale (alasse) I haue lost the libertie of my heart, with all my wonted ioy, and now indure perpetuall paine, and an euer pining death: I haue lost my honour and reco­uered shame and infamie. To conclude, I haue lost the liber­tie of a Quéene, and remaine in continuall captiuitie, and yet of all this, I my selfe am onely in fault. Therefore without making anie excuse, héere I doo surrender my selfe into your powers, for that you may as an euill Quéene dooe sacrifice with mée, as also that which I haue in my womb. For now my friends you shall vnderstand that the knight who with his mightie & strong arme slew Bramarando, was the Em­perour Trebatio, father vnto him whome you nowe honour as a God. This is hée that robbed me of my honor, but with my good will (I must confesse) and left me for a testimonie of this my euill déede, bigge with child.’ And with this she made an ende of her lamentable spéech, and without anie more strength to sit vp shée fell downe againe in her bedde. So when these Earles and noble knightes that were present vnderstoode all that the Quéene had sayde vnto them, they were all of them greatly amazed and chaunged theyr cou­lours, looking one vpon another without speaking any word, [Page 130] but printing in their heartes the fault done by their quéene, yet not without consideration that there remained fruite of that surmounted trée, euen that Grecian, which gaue vnto them great ioye and mirth, in such sorte, that this worthie fame had in them more force then the blot that their quéene and Ladie had receiued in her honour. And with this [...] the Earle of Modique rose vp, and aunswered for all that were present, saying. ‘Souereigne Ladie, there is not one of vs that canno denie but that there was a fault, and that you are worthie of blame for committing this fact, not respecting your royall estate, for the which we cannot but receiue great griefe in our heartes, neither canne we denie, but that in re­seruing the fruit of him which hath béene the occasion of this dishonour, will bring vnto vs a perticular ioye, and cause great contentment vnto all your subiectes, so that [...] shall easily forget the losse of your honour and honourable virgi­nitie: Therefore waying equally the fault with the profit which shall redound vnto all Tinacria, in recouering such a successour, we doe finde that thou art worthie of no paine, therfore souereigne Ladie looke not vpon the errour, for that [...]erily it was so ordained by the Gods, that at that instaunt and without looking for this Gréeke Emperour came for the defence of our kingdome, and for thy restoring, and hath left vs this good successour which we hope shall bee deliuered out of thy wombe, who shall be a defender of these thy King­domes, and a maintainer of vs thy subiectes. And héere we do desire thée to put awaie all these imaginations & griefes from thy heart, and to forget it, and renue thy former ioye and pleasure, in making sacrifices vnto the Gods, that they may giue strength to thy person, whereby thou mayst haue good deliueraunce of that which thou goest with, which vnto vs will bée most acceptable.’ Great was the ioye which the Quéene receiued at these comfortable wordes which her sub­iectes hadde spoken, and giuing them greate thankes shée requested them to departe til [...] such time as shée shoulde be brought a bedde. So the time béeing néere approched, she was deliuered of a verie fayre [...]onne, and lykewise of [Page] a daughter of a wonderfull beautie, for the which there was made great ioy throughout all the kingdome, & they called the sonnes name Polifebo, and the other young infant Rosal­ [...]ira. The great beautie and fairenesse that was in these two infants, was such, that in all the kingdome they esteemed thē for diuine creatures, they were nourished and brought vp with great care and honour: but for all this, the Quéene con­ceiued in her heart a meruailous hatred against the Empe­rour, and many times she would goe vp into a towre which was towards the sea, to sée if that shée looking towardes the parts of Grecia, might receiue anie comfort or take any ple­sure, but al was in vaine, for the greatest pleasure & comfort y^t she receiued was, to see these infants to be children vnto such a Father, and indowed with such surpassing beautie, & some­times she would sit and talke to them, saying: Oh figures of him, who without all pittie wounded my heart, & left me cō ­fortlesse with the greatest crueltie that euer woman was left withall by anie knight or Gentleman: how is it possible y^• I haue the force to bring vp children of that Father, who hath bereaued me of my libertie: Oh souereigne Gods, that with your powers haue sowed in this vnhappie land, the of­spring of that vnmercifull Trebatio, graunt that I may esta­blish in my heart so much anger, that it may cause me to put from me the loue of that adulterous father: Oh children born for a farther griefe, héere I doo desire the mightie Gods that your beautie may haue so much force & power, that with the beames thereof you may take reuengement of the dishonour of your mother, & thou my daughter borne in the dishonor of thy generation, by the losse of my virginitie, [...]éere I doo swere vnto y^e celestial Iupiter, y^t thy beautie shal not be inioyed by any, but by him y^t shal giue thée in dowry the head of thy dis­loyal father, y^• by it I may recouer part of my former glorie. These & other like wordes spake this afflicted quéene, & euen as she had sworne she put in practise, publishing it through al her kingdome, & giuing information of the effect of her pre­tēded purpose, & sent messēgers into Africa & Asia cōcerning y^• same, all which she did contrarie to the will of her subiects. [Page 131] And because that they saw her so feruent in her anger, wher­to she was more prone, by desire of reue [...]gement, then vn­to anie reason, they did all determine to content themselues, and sh [...]e for to, giue a better courage vnto them which knew her, and vnto all such as woulde prosecute this enterprise, shée gaue diuerse deuises, so that they which did presume heerein were not fewe in number, but verie many and right valiaunt knightes, as héereafter I will declare vnto you. So some there▪ were which did offer themselues for the faire­nesse of the mother, before that her daughters beautie shoulde come to anie perfectnesse, and other some for the loue of the daughter, of which there were verie manie that lost theyr honours in Grecia, and sundrie lost theyr liues, and he which first did offer himselfe in this enterprise was the king of the Garamantes, who by hearing reporte of her greate beautie, was in loue with her. And when he heard the message which was brought from the quéene by her Embassadours, straight waie without giuing the quéene to vnderstand thereof, hée went into Grecia, trusting onely in his greate strength, of whom when time serueth wée will speake. And so it [...]ell out, that neither time nor anie other thing was sufficient to remooue from the Quéene this greate desire shée had to seeke reuengement, but euerie daie her anger did more increase, neither was the beautie of his children of so much force, as to mollifie the furie of her stomacke, although when they were at sixe yeares of age, they were of so excellent beautie, that the Tinacrians beléeued that they were the children of some of the Gods, and not of anie humane creature, their bo­dies and their beauties were so conformable, for all they which did sée the young Prince, would haue iudged him to haue double the yeares that he had, and in his body and face he did so much resemble his brother the knight of the Son, that it was a thing to be meruailed at. Of the young princesse Lyrgandeo would not make anie description, for that he said, that whatsoeuer thing shoulde be spoken of her, his pen were not sufficient to vtter the worthinesse of her beautie, so this quéene was euer firme in this her thought, & for to giue them [Page] better to vnderstand, she commaunded to renue the signes & tokens, and more, that they should carrie her picture into all parts, the which was the occasion that the court of y^e quéene of Tinacria was meruailously increased in honour, with so many Princes and knights which repaired thether to sée this Damsell. When the queene sawe that her kingdome was so honourably nobled more then at other times, she commaun­ded that vpon the gates of her royall pallace should be placed a title, which was conteined in these words following.

And when all this was finished, she straight way dispatch­ed a messenger to Grecia, with a letter vnto the Emperour, the which she sent by a damsel that was verie trustie & one y^t she loued well, whereas now I will leaue them till time doo serue for to tell you of the knight of the Sun. But first for y^t it is necessarie to this our historie, we will declare what Bru­faldoro said, when he knew of the death of Bramarando his brother, king of Mauritania, who béeing certified by them y^• escaped aliue out of the hands of the Tinacrians, and wer ve­rie sorrowful for the losse of their Lord and king, and landing in their owne countrie they went and carried the newes vn­to Brufaldoro, the which when he heard, he felt in himselfe so great paine & sorrow, that in a sound he leaned himself vn­to a chaire because he would not fall, he was so farre beside himselfe, in which trance he did not long indure, but came a­gaine to his remembraunce, and wish a terrible and feare­full voice he sayde: Is it of truth that my brother is dead, and the messengers aunswered and sayde, that it was too true. Oh traitours, aunswered this fierce young man, how durst you come before me, except first you had taken re­uengement [Page 132] of his death. Then they aunswered and sayd. He y^• did kill him, is not a man so soone to take reuengement of, for that after that we were cléere of his diuellish furie, it was tolde vs that he was a christian and the Emperour of Grecia, called Trebatio. Oh vile people, aunswered the Pa­gan, yet will you replie against my words, get you out of my sight, if it were not but that I am letted for lacke of the or­der of knighthood, I would with my owne handes teare you all to péeces. Oh false Mahomet, thou lyar, periured, & with­out all faith, is this the honour that my brother should haue out of Tinacria: to be abated and slaine by one alone christi­an, and in saying these wordes he entered into a chamber, where he had the Image of Mahomet all of golde, with twelue Angells on both sides, this youth tooke a heauie club and with both his handes he stroke this poore God such a blowe vpon the head, that he made him to fal to the ground, and not resting with this, he tourned against them that bare him companie, & stroke on them so many blowes, that in a thousand péeces he made them fall to the ground, and sayde. O thou false traitour, heere wil I giue thée thy paiment and reward for that which thou hast done vnto my beloued bro­ther. Héere I doo forsake and denie thée, and all them that do beléeue in thée, for that I wil neither beléeue in thée nor serue thee, but if I did knowe the waie vnto the place, where as the diuell hath thée, I woulde goe and séeke thée, to giue thée to vnderstand that my furie is more then thy power. And when he had concluded with this, he went foorth of the cham­ber, and with a terrible noise he called for his armour, the which was straight waie brought vnto him, and without tarrying to bée made knight, he commaunded to arme him, with armour that was all white, & made by art Magick, thē he commanded a ship to be made readie & furnished, & entred into it, with intent to go to Grecia, and there to aske the or­der of knighthoode of the Emperour, & when he had receiued it, to defie him to mortall battaile, but it chaunced not vnto him as he thought it would, for y^e the sea with some of his accustomed torments carried him vnto the coast of France, & [Page] by reason of his small patience, once béeing a land, he would not retourne to imbarke himselfe in his ship, but remained with onely two lackeyes, and commaunded the vessell to re­turne backe againe, and so went traueling whether his for­tune would carrie him two dayes. The third day very ear­ly in the morning, he heard a great rushing of armour a­mongst a company of trées, & going towards the same noise, he saw a Knight of a very good proportion agaynst a great [...] number of other Knights, in a very fierce and vnreasonable battaile. And for to tell you who it was, it is requisite, that we begin another chapter, in the which I will declare the whole matter vnto you.

¶How that the Knight of the Sunne would haue tar­ried for Tefereo, in the place whereas he appoin­ted him, and how he lost himselfe in a thick moun­taine, and of all that happened vnto him after that. Cap. 24.

THe knight of the Sunne who was purposed to tarrie for Tefereo, whereas he appointed him, put himselfe into the wildernes of Ar­denia, with a reasonable quicke pace: but be­cause of the great thicknesse of trées & bush­es, being amongst them: and againe, trou­bled with thoughts, wherewith his minde was occupied, hée lost his way, and in such sorte, that although he tourned his horse euery way from one place to another, yet could he not finde any way, but rather did so intangle himself, that when the night came, he found himselfe so far from the place wher as he thought to haue remained, that he was in doubt to re­couer his waye and his company he knewe not when: for the which he receiued great griefe, which was the occasion that he died very euill words against himselfe. So beeing in this cholar, the night drew on, which constrayned him to a­light from his horse, and sate him downe vnder a greene tree, hauing set his horse to feede in the gréene grasse, of the [Page] which there was abundaunce at hande, and so in the best wise he could, he laid him downe vpon the ground to take some rest for a while: and towards his right hand he hard a great noyse of the running of water, and being very drye, he was constrayned to arise againe. And so he went féeling & following that pittering sound of water, vntill such time as he found a little fountaine of very faire and cléere water, and by reason of the great drought that he had, without a­ny more tarrying, he knéeled downe to drinke thereof, till such time as he had mitigated his great thirst, and remay­ned there a while to refresh himselfe, for that the place was very pleasaunt: so after a while, he returned vnto the place whereas he was before, and layd himselfe downe to rest. He had not remained there long, but he felt the water to begin to worke in him: For you shall vnderstand, that this was one of the fountaines of Marlin, which he made in that wil­dernesse, and brought the water, from the high mountayne of Olympo. But this fountaine whereof the Knight of the Sunne did drinke, was that of Disamore, or without loue. In such sort it did worke in him, that he did not onely loose and forget the loue which he had to Lindabrides, but also, if it had not bene for the great force of matrimonye, and for the pawne that he receiued of Claridiana, he hadde likewise forgot her, and had brought her as far out of remembrance, as he did the Lady of Tartaria. And this water did not one­ly cause forgetfulnesse, but also it forced him to reprehende himselfe, saieng. ‘Oh foole without any vnderstanding, that so long hast had thy heart subiected vnto a Ladye, that is a straunger vnto thy Religion, intreating thée, not as a man that dooth procéede from a high and noble generation: but lyke the most basest and vilest wretch in al the world. Tel me thou lost man, who hath bene affectioned vnto a Moore without faith, but onely thy selfe? Who would haue left his naturall wife, for to loue a stranger & Barbarian, but thou? Who would giue so many sighes in vaine, but I most mi­serable, giuing occasion of euerlasting death and damnati­on vnto my soule.’

[Page] ‘Oh base and grose vnderstanding, in what didst thou set thy loue? What beautie didst thou see in her, that thou wouldst follow her, as one lost for her loue? What blindnesse hath constrained thée, considering the great valour of the royall Empresse, and with what liberalitie she hath surrendred all her Kingdomes, and her owne person into thy hands. ’These and other like complaints he made against himselfe, without taking any sleepe or rest, but was sore troubled with this thought, till such time as the morning came, and that Phoe­bus with his golden beames couered all the earth, then hée tooke his horse with a more lighter heart, and cléerer of all thoughts, then at the time he came thether: for that he had as cleane forgot Lindabrides, as though he had neuer séene her. So all that daye he trauelled in that wildernesse, not knowing which way to take: and had eaten nothing, nei­ther had he any thing to eate, the which did trouble him ve­ry much. So when night drewe on, he discouered a heard of cattell, which were there féeding in the wildernesse, and de­termined to goe towards that place whereas the heard men were, who receiued him very well. This Knight did aske of them, if they had any thing to giue him to eate, for that hée was very hungrie: the heard men bad him that he should a­light, and that they would giue him of such as they had for themselues. So he alighted & did eate with a very good will, and so good a stomacke, as one which had not his heart nor minde occupied with the cares of loue, and there with those heard men, he passed all that night, till it was morning. So when it was daye one of the heard men did bring him into a very great & occupied way, to whom he gaue great thanks. Then the Knight tooke that waye forwards, which led him towards Prouince, intending to sée if he could méet with his friend, and did determine to trauaile thereabouts, to sée if Fortune would bring him that waye: he had not trauailed farre, when that he discouered another way, which did crosse ouerthwart the same way, in which he was. And studying with himselfe which waye to take, it was tolde him that [Page 134] it was the waye which led strayght vnto Paris: of y^• which he was very ioyfull, and remained a while, thinking which way he might take for to finde Tefereo. And beeing in this muse, he heard towards his right side a great rushing of ar­mour and armed Knights, and casting his head on the one side, he saw that there was about a ten knights which came running towards him with their speares very low, calling him traytor: as soone as the Knight of the Sunne saw them he put downe the visor of his helme, and layd hand on his sword: and at the same time, he beheld on the other side, as many moe Knights armed, which made towards him as the other did. In the ende he was compassed rounde about on euery side with fortie Knights, which all cried out saying, kill the traytor, let the traytor dye, of the which the Prince did greatly meruayle. So altogether they set vpon him, and ranne at him with their speares, and stroke him all at once, yet for all that, he mooued no more in his saddle, then if they had made their incounter against a strong Tower: but at the passing by, he stroke one of them vpon the visour of his helme, that he cut halfe his head a sunder, and he fell dead to the ground. All the rest retourned with their horses against the Prince, some with their swords in their hands, and other some, whose speares remayned whole, ranne at him againe, what on the one side and what on the other, they made a very fierce and strong incounter, as of those which were the whole choyce of them that were in the Citie, onelye to kill him. When the Prince sawe himselfe so inclosed on euerye side, his wrath and anger began to kindle in him, insomuch that he tooke his sword fast in his hand, & stroke such blowes, that whosoeuer he chaunced to hitte, was either slayne or maymed.

At this present time arriued in those partes at the Sea side, as I haue tolde you, Brufaldoro: and this was the bat­tayle, wherein he sawe so many Knightes against one one­ly Knight. This Moore did stande and beholde them, and was verye much amazed to see the power of one Knight, who brought so many as they were, into such great distres, [Page] which made them to repent and were verie sorrie that euer they began that enterprise, but by reason that they were all chosen knightes, they would not but assault him verie fierce­ly, which was the occasion of their farther harme & destructi­on, for that the Princes▪ ire did so much increase, that it cau­sed him to double his blowes, in such sorte, that some he kil­led out right, and some he wounded, that in a small time he left not one vpon his horse, but all brought vnto the state that they could make no resistaunce, and when the Prince [...]awe himselfe at more libertie, he demaunded what was the occasion of this so sodaine conflict, so one of those knightes which was verie sore hurt, tolde him how that they were knights belonging to the Earle of Prouince, which laye in waite for him to be reuenged of the death of his sonne, for y^t the whole circumstance of the battaile came vnto his know­ledge. So the Prince left them, and woulde not speake anye word more vnto them, but his intent was to get him out of the Countrie, for that he well vnderstood that neither he nor Tefereo should haue anie good intertainment at their hands, and when he would haue departed, there came vnto him Brufaldoro, and did salute him verie curteously, the Prince did returne him his salutation, and had a great pleasure to beholde his good grace and gentilitie. So the Mauritanian be­gan first to speake and sayd. Gentle and valiant knight, the first boone or gift that euer I did demaund since the time that I was borne, is this that I will aske of thée, and the occasion which doeth driue me to aske it, is constrained by the great valour and prowesse which I haue seene in thée, & sure it is an easie thing on thy part to be fulfilled, and there­fore I doo desire thée to graunt me my request. The heroy­call Grecian which had his eyes fixed vpon him, with great pleasure that he receiued at his gentle disposition, answered: As yet I neuer denyed anie thing that was demaunded of mée, being iustly demaunded and in a iust cause, neither had I anie respect whether it be easie to be done, or difficult, ther­fore gētle knight aske whatsoeuer pleseth thée, for if it stand with iustice and reason, that I may graunt it thée, I doe pro­mise [Page 135] thée to accōplish it in very ample manner, not onely o [...]e boon, but so many as thou wilt aske of me. That which I wil aske thée, said y^e pagan, is not to put thy person in any peri [...], no, nor y^t thou shalt mooue thy horse one foot out of the place where he standeth: but that thou wilt with thy valiant hand giue me y^e order of Knighthood, & arme me knight, the which thou maist doo, without any doubt or s [...]rupulositie. For heere I doo sweare vnto thée by my mightie thoughts, that I am a crowned King. This noble Greeke did accept his demand, and asked of him, if that he had watched his armour. The Moore aunswered, I suppose I haue watched them inough, for that it is now eighteene dayes since I haue hadde them continually on my backe. And for me there needeth no ce­remonyes: for that I am no Christian, neither Pagan, nor Moore, nor Iewe, nor Gentile, neither doo I worship nor be­léeue in God: For that the God of the Christians, I take him for my enimie: and as for Mahomet, I knowe he is little worth, and can doo lesse: and the Gentiles haue for their Gods, stockes and stones: and as for the Iewes I hate thē as base and vile people. Therefore I doo neither worshippe the one, nor beléeue in the other: but onely follow my own proper appetite. The Knight of the sunne could not refrain from laughter at his words, in séeing him to be a man of so much libertie, and aunswered him, saying. By God King, I doo sweare vnto thée, that I haue séene fewe or none of thy Religion: but whatsoeuer thou art, I will héere accomplish thy desire and request. Then the Prince asked him, Wilt thou be a Knight? The King aunswered, This I doo desire, and séeke no other thing, and putting on his right spurre, he kissed him on the chéeke in token of honour, and taking a rich sword, which a page of his carried with him, hée stroke him a blowe with it vpon his shoulder, and putting of it vp againe into his sheath, he hung it about his necke & sayd, Now King, thy desire is fulfilled, for y^t thou art a Knight. With great good reason may it be sayd, that in the fields of Prouince was giuen the order of Knighthood, vnto the most valiantest Moore in all the worlde, and by the hands of the [Page] best Knight that euer was. The King was very glad to sée himselfe a Knight, and gaue great thankes vnto the Prince for the same, requesting him very earnestly that hee woulde tell him his name, for that he might know at whose hands he receiued the order of Knighthood: the which the Prince with a good will declared. And when he knew that he was sonne vnto the Emperor Trebatio, whom he accounted for his mortall enemie, altering his voyce, he sayd.‘Oh Maho­met, thou vile God, and full of all treasons, thou hast not lef [...] to persecute me, euen vnto this present time: for thou hast brought me to receiue the order of Knighthoode, which was the thing that I most desired, at the hands of him, which is sonne vnto my mortall enimie. Héere I doo say vnto thée va­lyant prince, that I would it had cost me my kingdome, that I had not receiued knighthood at thy hand, for that thou art sonne vnto the Emperour Trebatio, the fal [...]est traytor, that euer hath bene séene. The prince somewhat angry aunswe­red him saying, King, it is not séemely in such as thou art, to speak words which be so false. It is very true, that the Em­perour is my father, and the mightiest Prince in the vniuer­sall worlde. And not as thou doest account him a traytour. For the which cause I doo tell thée that thou doost falsly lye, like the most vilest Pagan in all thy kingdome: and in the defence thereof I will driue thée out of the field, and depriue thée of this order which I haue giuen thée, that thou shalte not excercise it, by taking from thée thy life.’ This miserable Pagan, who straight way was subiect vnto his furye, with great alteration sayd. ‘Oh wretched and vnfortunate knight, doost thou thinke that I am one of those Knights that will be tamed by the strength of thy arme, I wish thée not to be­léeue it. For if thou doost proue my strength, thou shalt bée sure to finde another manner of rigor and force, then thou hast found in those; with whom thou hast got thy honour:’ the prince, whose patience could not suffer such great pride, but as wrathfull as a Lyon replyed. ‘Thou proud Pagan, arme thy head, and prepare thée to the battaile, for by God I doo sweare that I will doo my best to cut of such an eni­mie [Page 136] from the Emperour my father.’ The Pagan, without any more replying caused his helme to be [...]ased on, and layd hande on his sworde. And the Prince likewise was readie to discharge his blowe, who raysing himselfe vp in his stirrops, stroke so strong a blowe vpon the pagans helme, that the sound was heard a great way in the fieldes, and it in­forced him whether he would or not to make reuerence, & to holde downe his head béeing so astonyed, that it séemed a great tower had fallen vpon him: and as he woulde haue setteled himselfe againe in his saddle, he stroke him such an­other vpon his shield, that he droue it vnto his head, which made him to tourne vp the white of his eyes with the great griefe which he receiued: and to kéepe himselfe vp from fal­ling, both he and his horse staggered on the one side, which made the Prince to loose many a blow, notwithstanding, he pressed on him so fast, that he had no time to tourne him to strike againe. This Moore was verye much amazed at his great force and strength, and strake at the prince so furious and strong a blow, that he made him to loose his vnderstan­ding, and almost to stoope with all his body vpon his horse necke. The prince came straight way to himselfe, and retur­ned vnto y^e Moore with so much furie, striking such a blow vpon his shield, which although it séemed to be as hard as a Diamond, yet for all that, he cut it in two péeces, and the blow descended vpon his sholder, with such a great waight, that the mountaines eckoed with the noyse: which made the pagan for feare of falling to hold himselfe fast by the Horse mane, very much marueling y^t in one Knight there shuld be so much strength. Then he threw from him the rest of his shield which was left, and tooke his broad sword in both his hands, and droue such a blowe at the Prince, that lighting vpon his visor, it depriued him of his sight, & forced him to fall vpon his horse necke without any remembrance. This stout Pagan would haue retourned to strike him again, but he could not: for that his horse béeing skarred with y^e blow, lept on y^e one side, which saued him frō it. Yet y^e pagan folow­ed to accomplish his will, which he could not doo so spéedely, [Page] but that the Prince did settle himselfe in his saddle, and re­couered againe his sword, and committing himselfe to God, as he alwayes was accustomed to doo, he sayd: Oh holy Ie­su for thy names sake, ayde and helpe me. And therwith he spurred his Cornerino with great furie, that he made him runne like the winde, and in his course he sayd, Tarry, tarry, thou man without faith, and doo not thinke that thy blowes hath done any other thing on me, but onely caused my yre & anger to increase the more, for to procure to bring thée to thy ende, and to sende that excommunicated soule of thine to the diuell: and in the running of his horse, when he drew nigh him, he threatened him with his sword, shaking of it in such sort, that he gaue him to vnderstand, that at the next blowe he would make an ende of the battaile: and there­with he stroke him such a blow on his helme, that the bloud ranne out at the visor thereof, and he fell downe backwards vpon his horse crouper almost dead. The great force that the Prince gaue to strike him, was the cause that he brake the lether of his right stirrop, and therewith he fell to y^e ground from his horse. But strayght way with great lightnesse he arose vp againe, and in the best manner he could he made it fast, and leaping into the saddle, he retourned towardes his enemie: who was with great trouble setling himselfe in his saddle, and looking vp to the heauen, he showed a pittifull countenaunce, as though he had bene very sore hurte, as in truth he was. And when he sawe himselfe so ill intreated, and all his head bathed in bloud, he beganne to crye out a­gaynst Mahomet saying. Oh Mahomet, thou art the falsest God, amongst all the Gods, cursed be all they that doo trust in thée, and beléeue in thée. And of this be thou sure, that I doo not beléeue now in thée, neither will I so long as I liue: and this I doo promise thée, that wheresoeuer I finde anye Temple or Image of thine, to breake them downe with the strength of mine owne hande and furious arme. And with this anger he lifte vp his sword alofte, going towards the Prince, who was tarrying for him in the same manner, and with like furie. And both together, they discharged their [Page 137] heauie and terrible blowes, but the Moores blowe was the first that lighted vppon the knight of the Sunnes healme, so that it made him to shake in his saddle, and hee lacked but a little to fall downe, the greate force and heauinesse of that blowe was the occasion that the blowe of the Prince could not be executed with the furie wherwith it was discharged, for that peraduenture if it had, he had not found himselfe so well as afterwarde hee did, for although it hit not right, bee­ing stroken with so much madnesse, yet it made him whe­ther he would or no, to stoope with his head, and therwith he straight wayes sett [...]led him, and séeing that the knight of the Sunne was still remaining in without anie feeling, hée sayde.

I do not determine to tarrie any longer, for that as I doo beléeue, thou art none other but the God Mars (although thou hast sayde that thou art a mortall man as I am,) and that thou art come downe to giue mee the order of knighthoode, and afterward to make mée feele the strength of thy arme, and when hee hadde sayde these wordes, hee called his Lac­kyes in greate hast, and rode awaie with as much speede as possible might bee. At which time with the noyse of the bat­taile came Tefereo, and as hée sawe the Prince in that sort, and his enimie going awaye▪ with so much hast, he made no longer tarrying, but set the spurres vnto his horse, and with a [...] greate swiftnesse as he coulde, he followed after him. The Prince when hée came againe vnto himselfe, and coulde not see his enimie, was so kindeled with anger and wrath, that the bloud ranne out at his eyes with verie an­ger. This Mauritanian did verie well in not tarrying the furie of the Prince at that time, for with the wrath that he had, harde Diamondes had not beene able to haue made a­nie resistaunce against him, wherefore hée determined forth­with to followe after him, but that a Damsel which was by, put her selfe before him and sayd.

Gentle Knight, it is sufficient that Tefereo doeth followe him, wherefore venture not thy selfe a newe in that wherein thou doest gette but verie little prowesse, [Page] for he that doth followe him; wil [...] handle him well inough, therefore come and followe me, for that there is other mat­ters of greater importaunce which are tarrying for thée. The Prince when he hearde these wordes behelde well the Damosell that was talking with him, and straight wayes he knewe her to be the Damosell that hée and the Prince Eleno had found in the Barke, who after these spéeches went onwardes her waie with greate spéed. The Prince at that time had not his hart so quieted within him, as to aske her anie questions, but without saying anie worde he followed her, till they came vnto the filde whereas he sawe the Barke wherein the Damosell had come thether, into the which she entered, and after her followed the Knight of the Sunne, but when they were setteled within the Barke moo­ued nothing at all, wherby they well vnderstood that it tarri­ed for more companie whome he thought to be for his friend Tefereo, and as you before hearde, he with greate furie on horse backe rode after the Moore, and made so much▪ hast in following him, that he ouertooke him in a plaine fielde, and at the greate noyse and calling that Tefereo made, this Moo­rish king looked backe, beléeuing that it had bene the Knight of the Sunne, but when he sawe him and knewe by his ar­mour that it shoulde not be he, he tarryed for him, and when they drewe nigh together, he sayde! Knight, what a Diuell wouldest thou haue, that with so great hast thou doest fol­lowe me, and with so arrogant a voice doest call me, Tefe­reo aunswered him and sayd.

Cowarde, to make thée paie the giuing of that blowe, which thou gauest vnto a better Knight then thou art. Then the king sayde. Oh high Gods, what may this be, that in the beginning of my knighthoode I should be so reui [...]ed, and vnto Tefereo he replied: Knight thou lyest, for I neuer left my battaile for cowardnesse, but that as I doo well know, he with whome I had battaile is no man, but a Diuell, and againe I l [...]fte him for that hée gaue vnto mée the order of Knighthoode, but nowe thou shalt paye for all that which hee hath done vnto mée, ioyntly with the wordes which [Page 138] thou hast héere spoken, and without anie more tarrieng they beganne to strike many and vnmeasurable [...] the one at the other, the Moore stroke [...] at the Sardenian which was so terrible, that it made him cleane to loose his sight, and to leane on the one side of his horse, so that hee had almost fallen downe, but with a [...]rice hee setteled himselfe vpright in his saddle againe and finding the Moore at hande, [...] a thrust at him so firme and strong, [...] thrust him cleane out of the Saddle vppon the crouper of his horse [...] so that he lacked but a little of falling downe backwarde, and seeing him in this sorte, with wonderfull agilitie hée [...] on the other side, and before that the Moore coulde settle himselfe well agayne, hée stroke him such another blowe vpon his healme, that he made him to réele forwardes as fast as hée did backwardes, and then hée doubled him ano­ther blowe vpon the backe, that whether hée woulde or no, hée made his head to touch the buttocke of his horse, and with the greate furie that he stroke the blowe, hée pricked his horse, which was the occasion that hée ranne forwardes in such sorte, that the Moore had time to recouer himselfe▪ a­gaine, vsing his accustomed cursinges against Mahomet, [...] calling him a thousande detestable names. So these valy­aunt warriours without anie farther staring, ioyned againe together, whereas there beganne a new battaile farre more rigorous then the first, for that they were both furiously in­censed with anger, not ceasing to torment their armes with terrible blows, without all pittie, in such sort▪ that their blowes were deliuered more with strength then with anie pollicie. Thus with terrible furie they brused one anothers flesh, that either of them did féele it very much: this Maurita­nian with greate furie lift vp his swoorde for to strike the Sardenian, and he placed it in such sort that he made him to fall vpon his horse crouper, but by reason of the greate furie wherwith it was discharged, & againe that the Moores ho [...]se was somewhat weary, he stumbled & bowed vpon his knées, in such sort, that in a great while he could not rise vp againe, and although he spurred him very much, yet it [...] [Page] The Moore séeing that all that he coulde dooe was to little effect, cryed out against Mahomet, and with the great force that the Moore vsed, his horse arose agayne vpon his féete, at such time as the Sardenian with so outragious cholar, that the smoke flew out at his visour, tooke his great sword in both his handes, letting his shéelde hang at his backe, and stroke him such a terrible blow vpon the creast of his helme, that hée made him cleane to loose his feeling for a greate while. The Moores horse by reason of his wearinesse was readie to fall downe on euerie side: This valyaunt Sarde­nian séeing him in that case, and remembring in what order he had before left the knight of the Sunne, without anie more tarrying tourned about his swift and light horse, and with as much swiftnesse as might bee possible, he returned vnto the place where as he had left the knight of the Sun and when hée came vnto the place wheras the battaile was fought betwéen the two warriours, he found not the knight of the Sunne there, but retourning backe againe he tooke his waie towardes the Sea side, following the foote steppes of them and theyr horses, and in a small time hee came vn­to the place, whereas he sawe a barke which was at an an­ker fast vpon the shoare, and comming nigh vnto it he knew it to bée the verie same which had brought them thether, and for to knowe of certaintie whether the knight of the Sunne were there or not, he called with a loude voice vnto them which were in the Barke: vnto whome the Greeke made aunswere, and when he saw that it was his friend Tefereo that had called, he was verie gladde, and likewise Tefereo did greatly reioyce to sée him, and therewith he entered into the Barke, and when hée was entered therein, he heard one with a lowde voyce, which sayde. Tarrie, tarrie, thou cow­ardly villaine, and doe not thinke to escape mée without thy due punishment. At which greate noise the Knight of the Sunne looked about and saw that it was the King of Mau­ritania, which with verie greate hast came towardes them. The Prince wold haue gone out to him if y^t the Barke had not ben so far in the sea, as it was, for the which he was very [Page 139] sad, & not a little disquieted, yet for all the anger which the Prince had, he could not choose but saie that the king was a good knight, and of as much might as Bramarant, and some­what more valiaunt and politike, and meruailed with him­selfe whether he were his sonne or no. So when the Pa­gan sawe that he coulde not execute his furie and rage, hée beganne to roare lyke a Bull, and although he was not pur­posed anie more to imbarke himselfe to sea, yet at that time hée was constrayned to chaunge his pretence, and finding op­portunitie by reason of certaine Merchauntes which were fraighting of a shippe to Grecia, hée determined to goe into her. There hée imbarked himselfe, and the winde béeing ve­rie prosperous they departed, and in a verie short time they ariued at a hauen in Grecia, where as hée went a lande, and trauailed in the Countrie certaine dayes. So it happened one daie that hée founde by a house of pleasure, a great com­panie of Knightes, Ladyes, and Damosells, which were re­creating of themselues. What they were, and what the king did, in following the Storie you shall vnderstande, and I will nowe leaue him for to tell you of the heroycall sonne of Trebatio, who for the space of sixe dayes sayled on the Sea with greate pleasure, often talking of the great strength and force of the Moore, the seauenth daye he ariued in a verye faire hauen or port, which was nigh vnto a verie sump­tuous Citie, the which was furnished with greate shippes and Gallyes, and other small Barkes and Foystes. Amon­gest all these they passed verie quicklye, without the inter­ruption of anie person, till such time as the Barke was fast a grounde, and perceiuing that it was there conuenient that they shoulde disimbarke themselues, they leapt a shoare, and lykewise tooke out theyr horses, and straight waye they leapt on theyr backes, and tooke the waye which lead them vn­to the Citie, wherein they discouered on the one parte a verie fayre and greate armie of men, and lykewise all the fielde was pitched with verie rich Tentes, and as they looked aboute, straight wayes they sawe come foorth of the Citie fiue mightie and strong Knightes, and a verie greate [Page] and strong Gyaunt, and in the other parte of the armie one onely knight, whose armour séemed to bée of a passing fine Rubie, all to bée spotted with starres of golde, and set with Pearles. This sight did lyke them so well, that they were looking on that one Knight a greate while verie earnestly, and tooke greate pleasure to sée his good demenour. The Knight of the Sunne was imagining with himselfe what knight that shoulde bée, that was of so gentle disposition and proportion, beléeuing certainely that it coulde bée none, but some of his lignage. This knight passed harde by those two friendes, who did beholde them verie much, yet hée made no staying, but without speaking anie worde he passed on for­wardes, and when hée was come into that place of the fielde that was appointed for the battaile, he put his speare in his reast, at the which token one of the sixe knightes came foorth to make resistaunce, whome the knight of the Sunne did knowe.

But nowe for that the historie goeth in order, it is néedfull to leaue them in this order, till time shall serue, and to returne againe, and tell you of the Emperour of Grecia, that came to the port of Cimarra, and there did disimbarke himselfe.

¶How the Greeke Emperour did disimbarke himselfe at the Citie of Cimarra, and what happened vnto him there. Cap. 25.

YOU haue heard before how that the Empe­rour ariued at the Port of Cimarra, which was gouerned by the Father of that vn­fortunate Herea, where when hée hadde put in order his inchaunted Barke, hée leapte a lande, and going on foote armed with that rich armour which Garrofilea had giuen vnto him, carrying his right hande vpon the reast which was in his armour, and his left hande voon the pomell of his swoorde, and his helme close which couered his face, and hanging at his necke [Page 140] his gallaunt and rich shéelde, with a comelye and graue countenaunce he went towardes the Citie, and of the first that hée met withall, he asked what lande or Countrie that was, for that hée was ignoraunt thereof, and straight waie it was tolde him in the Sarasin language, that hée was in the kingdome of Cimarra, whereat hée was not a little de­lighted, and considering the knowledge of the wise Lyrgan­deo, he went forwardes on his waie without staying, till he entered into the gates of the Citie, and all they which met with him, did verie much beholde him, greatly meruailing at his grauitie, good disposition, and wonderfull stature. There were sundrye that aduertised the King there­of as soone as hée was come a shoare, howe that there was a knight which did disimbarke himselfe at the Port or Ha­uen, which came without gouernement, béeing armed with verie rich and costly armour, and one that was of an excel­lent stature and good disposition. The auncient King of the Countrie who was aduertised thereof before by the wise Lyrgandeo, did straight waie knowe that it was hée which had passed the terrible kéepers of his murthered Daugh­ter.

For you shall vnderstand, that as soone as the Emperour was departed from the Ilande, the wise Lyrgandeo com­maunded that the bodie of the Ladie shoulde bée carried vn­to Cimarra, aduertising her Father, that the long looked for reuengement was not farre of. And lykewise how and in what manner the knight which did it shoulde come into his lande, and also who that Knight shoulde bée. Wherefore as soone as the king was giuen to vnderstande of his ari­uall, without anie more tarrying, béeing accompanyed with all his noble men, and leading in his hande a very fayre and young childe, about twelue yeares olde; the most best proportoined that euer nature coulde frame, of whome you shall heare no more in this booke, for that in the seconde booke it shall bée declared at large of him. The king went forth till he came to the chiefe place of the Citie, there to méet [Page] with the Emperour, whereas likewise he met with this old and auncient King, who boowing his knées to the earth, and shedding of many teares, with ioye, receiued him, saying. ‘O high and mightie Emperour, giue me héere your hands, that I may discharge the dutie that all humane creatures do owe vnto your highnesse: how much more I, that am bounde therevnto, for that with so much firmenesse thou wouldest confirme thy oath, and take the charge in thine owne person to worke my reuengement.’ The Emperour was in a great confusion, to heare himselfe named, and neuer gaue anye in all that lande to vnderstand thereof, but strayght waye hée suspected, that Lirgandeo should aduise him of his comming. And héerewith vsing of his accustomed bountie, hée tooke him by the hand, and lifted him from the grounde, saying, ‘Good King, the debt which thou sayst is due vnto me, thou hast repayed in showing the noblenesse of thy heart and cou­rage, and otherwise I am constrained by y^e order of knight­hood and iustice, to make reuengement of that cursed facte, which was without all pitie committed vpon thy daughter. And seeing that there can be no other remedy but onely re­uengement, héere of my part I doo offer thée to doo all, that in my power is possible to be done, desiring thée that thou restraine these teares, and giue order that with great spéede there may be ioyned together all thy power, to the end that we maye goe and conclude that which in me lyeth. The King with a sad voyce aunswered. High and mightie Empe­rour, this hath bene prouided for before, for all my peo­ple and shires are at an houres warning, to goe to the ayd­ing of so iust a cause, and we tarryed for nothing but onely your royall person, who must be the sword of my reuenge­ment.’

Thus with these and such like communications, they went vnto the Kings pallaice, which was hanged all with blacke clothes, for others he would not consent to haue han­ged, since the death of his daughter Herea. There was the Emperour vnarmed, and serued with as great highnesse and honour, as though he had bene in Grecia. Notwithstanding [Page 141] the Emperour, would not soiourne nor rest there much, for the next daye in the morning he commaunded that all th [...] people should march forwards vnto a hauen which was at the vttermost parts of all the Kingdome, wheras they found ships and barkes of all sortes, verye well furnished of all things that was néedfull. There was thrée hundred ships one with another, in the which there was imbarked fiftie thousand Moores meruailously well appointed, and commit­ting their sayles vnto the winde, all this Nauie tooke theyr voyage towards Numidia. So they nauigated, and founds the winde fauourable, which brought them vnto a porte or hauen, which was but two leagues from the Kings house. There, with great ioy and pleasure they went a shore, with out any resistaunce or gainsaying. So when they were all out of the shippes a lande, they displayed their ancients, and in very good order they marched forwards. And at such time as Apollo had made an ende of his iourney, and that the darke night came on, they came in sight of the Citie, and without taking any rest, towards the lande side they pitch­ed their tents, and fortified themselues in the best wise they could, in such sort, as their good Captaine which did gouerne them had commaunded, without dooing any thing to the con­trary. So when all things was put in good order as they would haue it, he commaunded that all the armie, should go vnto the gate of the Citie that was most néerest, the which was straight waye done: and in thrée dayes after they did no other thing but ease and rest themselues: for that the people were somewhat out of quiet with their great tra­uayle.

The fourth daye, the Emperour séeing that there was no sturring in the Citie, (the which was done by pollicie, tarying to sée what the enimies would doo) the Emperour called for his armour: and being armed, there was brought a verye fayre and mightie horse vnto him: and with his accustomed courage he issued out from amongst his compa­nye, and rode towards the wall of the Citie, and put him­selfe into a faire gréene playne nigh vnto the walls, and lif­ting [Page] vp the visour of his healme, he set his horne vnto his mouth, and did sound it very strongly, which was to warne them that were in the Citie, to come to the walls and har­ken what he would saye: and when he sawe that there was much people, attending to heare him, he began to saye.‘O King Noraldino of Numidia, how carelesse thou art in this thy strong countrey, thinking that the strength thereof will defende thée, that thou payest not the price of thy naughtie treason, which thou didst vse with that vnfortunate Herea. Take vnto thée thy armour, and for that thou hadst a heart to commit this euill déede, haue now likewise a courage to make thy defence: come foorth of these thy walls, thou trai­tour, and destroyer of the royall bloud.’ All they which were on the walls did heare the threatenings, and straight waye went and tolde it vnto the king of Numidia, who was at that time in communication of warres and of armyes, and of all things that belonged therevnto, and when he hearde these newes, giuing a great sigh he sayd. ‘Oh ye Gods, are not you content to sée me in this perplexitie, and so much wronged, but likewise with sound of trumpet suffer me to be outraged in calling me traytor.’ These fayned griefes and sorrowfull words had so much force, that it moued the harts of the Princes that were with him, for to goe out into the field for his defence: and in great hast they commaunded, that their harnesse shuld be brought vnto them, with deter­mination to dye, or to defend his cause. And there was none that had any feare, but onely the Gyant, for that he would not giue any credit vnto the Kings words, although he dis­sembled neuer so muuch: but by reason that he had sworne therevnto, hée was constrayned by his oath to goe foorth with the rest.

So in this order as I haue told you, they went foorth of the Citie all sixe together: and he which gaue the first onset was that valiant and amorous Eleno of Dacia brothers son vnto the Emperour, who with a gentle behauiour when hée came nigh the Emperour, sayd in the Saracen tongue:‘It is not the part of good Knights to speake any villany, especially [Page 142] against Kings whom they are bound to haue in reuerence & honour. To whom the Emperour aunswered in the same language. Art thou Noraldino King of Numidia? Don Ele­no replyed, No, but I am a Knight, and a very stranger in this countrey: but yet by firme oath, I determine to dye in the defence of his right. The Emperor aunswered: He hath neither iustice nor right on his side, but it is most apparant wrong which he doth maintaine, and there is no reason that such a traytor as he is, shoulde be by anye other defended: neither is it séemely that anie Knight of price should charge himselfe in his behalfe, for that he is a traytor. And likewise he that doth defend him and take his part (in this, that hee will sustaine and maintaine so great vniustice) is pertaker of his treason, and meriteth a traytors name. And for that thou art his defender, héere I giue thée to vnderstand, that I care not for thée, and lesse I doo estéeme thée: for that hée which doth take vpon him to defend a traytor, may well be accounted a traytor. This valiaunt Eleno, when hée sawe himselfe to be so ill intreated, aunswered: Thou lyest in so saying, for that I was neuer traytor, neither doo I procéede of the lynage where traytors euer were: notwithstanding, thou shalt pay me with thy head, the great vncurtesie which thou hast vsed vnto me. Therefore it doth stande thée in hand to looke vnto thy selfe, and take that part of the fielde which thou thinkest best for thy purpose, and leaue off these blazing words to ioyne with me in battaile, that I maye sée if thou canst as well defend thy quarrell, as thou canst han­dle thy tongue.’At which words, there drew nigh them the Prince Clauerindo, and as the Emperour woulde haue de­parted to put himselfe in battel, he did behold him, & straight waye knew him. And casting his eyes on the one side, like­wise knew the other thrée, but he could not knowe who the Prince Eleno should be: and for the great desire which hée had to know what he was, he sayd: ‘Knight, I doo desire thée for courtesies sake to tell me what thou art: & if thou wilt not grant me this, then I pray thée to lift vp y^• visor of thy helme, y^• I may sée thy face? for héere I giue thée to vnderstād [Page] thy foure companions I dooe knowe, which is the occasion that I haue no desire to enter into battaile with thée. Then Don Eleno aunswered and sayd: Pagan, of the two things which thou doest aske of mée (although there is no compul­sion) yet will I pleasure thée in fulfilling one of them:’and in saying these wordes, he lift vp the visour of his healme, and when the Emperour sawe him, he beléeued that it had béene his sonne Rosicleer, and with a loud voice he said. ‘Oh migh­tie God, how can this be true, that vnto knights of my lig­nage should chaunce so vile a spot, who hetherto in all their dooings haue got great honour and praise, and now are come to defend such apparaunt wickednesse and treason. Thou shalt vnderstand knight, that I am the Emperour Trebatio, and would not willingly now be called thy Father, for that thou art come to defend so apparaunt and knowen an euill, for I knowing the vnreasonable naughtinesse that this king hath committed, am come to take this conquest in hande, for in all my life time I neuer tooke a more iuster cause in hand, neither was there euer in all the worlde a thing more wor­thier of punishment then this, and séeing that my fortune hath béen such, that my first enimie that shuld come against me, séemeth my sonne, put thy selfe héere now before thy high progenitour from whence thou doest descend, and for Gods loue doe not blot thy stock, in defending traitours & treason, & therwith in few words he told vnto them all the whole hi­story, as before I haue tolde you. Then this excellent Dacian answered. High & mightie Emperour, although by my name thou hast not knowen me, yet in calling me sonne thou did­dest happen on the truth. For thou shalt vnderstand that I am called Eleno of Dacia, sonne vnto the king of Dacia thy brother, and in that which thou hast sayde that we doe main­taine treasons, we are to the contrarie informed, neuertheles I beséech your highnesse to tarrie héere a while, and there­with he and the Prince in a great confusion returned to the place whereas the rest of his companions were, and turning his talke vnto the king, he sayd. King of Numidia, thou shalt vnderstand that yonder knight is the Emperour of Grecia, [Page 143] my vnckle, who in that small time which we haue ben with him, hath told vnto vs all the effect of this thy matter, cleane contrary vnto that which thou hast declared vnto vs. Ther­fore King, there is no reason, that Knights of so high bloud and name as we are should be set to defend lyes and trea­sons: but if it be to the contrary of that which he hath told vnto me, haue no doubt but tell vs the truth. For héere I sweare by the loue that I beare vnto that vnlouing Lidia, that I will trauayle so with my vnckle, that greatly with thy honour thou shalt goe thorough with this conquest. Then this false King aunswered. O Knights which doo con­fesse your selues to be Christians, and by the God whome you doo worship haue made a solemne oath to helpe and de­fend me by the strength of your armes: how happeneth it now y^• without any care of your oth, which you haue sworn, you will leaue me desolate, and goe from your words, béeing doubtfull of the very truth. The couragious French man aunswered: Doo thou not thinke King, that our oathes and words shall be abrogated, rather first we will léese our liues, both I, the prince, & all our companions: but consider king, that God will not that we shall imagine amisse of Treba­tio, who is a prince of great veritie and truth, and agayne, our verie nigh kinsman. Therefore this, and that which hée hath tolde vs, hath moued vs to come and tell thée, and doe saye, that none of vs will goe from his word and oath if thy cause be iust. Then the valyaunt Eleno did cut off his reasons, and tourning vnto the King he sayd. King of Numi­dia, héere I do most humblye desire thée, that with false il­lusions thou putte not vs vnto so great trauaile, for that then it can not be, but either wée must dye in the hands of him whome we doe desire to serue, or els, (though farre vnlikely) to kill him. Is it possible king, that thou hast brought vs vnto this estate, that crueltie should gouern our wills, without hauing power to doe any other thing.’The King when he saw that the Knights were very earnest, be­gan to sweare with great oaths that his cause was iust, and that he had tolde vnto them the truth of the matter, and if [Page] so be that the Emperour had tolde them any other thing, it was onely to deceiue them, and to tourne them, that they should not make his defence, and charged them againe with their oath which they had made and how that they had gi­uen their words to be his vpholder and defender. This wor­thy Dacian tourning vnto his companions sayd. ‘Knightes, what doo you thinke in this matter, what is it best that we doo héerein? For well you doo sée, that we are so bewrapte & bound one against another, and cousin against cousin, yet for all that we cannot by any meanes excuse the battaile. So they did all determine to retourne vnto the Emperour, and to desire him for to accept it in good part, and to leaue off that battaile, & to make thē beléeue that he was falsly informed, & when they came vnto him they said. Worthy Emperour, and our onely Lord, looke well vnto this false information, wherewith they haue informed you, and hauing well consi­dered thereof, we doo all request you, for the loue which vnto your sonnes and cousins, and vnto all your friendes you doo owe, that it may moue you to take no occasion to put vs in­to this extremitie, for that by anie meanes we cannot goe from our oath and word. Unto the which the Emperour an­swered and sayd. My louing friends, if that you haue giuen your word and oath to procure to make defence of so false a King, doo you likewise indeuour to performe the same: for the like will I doe to accomplish that which I haue promi­sed, for that there is no more reason for the one then for the other. But this one thing I doe tell you, that it is very ap­parant that you will maintaine the treason of this false King, as it appereth plainly by many reasons, which I haue told vnto you: and the principall cause, wherin you maye sée plainely his treason and falshoode, is the little hast that hée doeth make himselfe vnto the battaile, and if he knew that he doo [...]h maintaine the truth, let him come forth and make his owne defence.’ At the which reasons they all helde theyr peace, considering the great reason which the Emperour had declared, and determined that the next daie they woulde conclude, what were best to bée done, & so these sixe knights [Page 144] returned vnto the Citie, and the Emperour vnto the campe. Of all this that happened, he that receiued the most content­ment, was the Prince Eleno, for he desired verye much to retourne vnto the Citie, for that at his departure he left his Lady very sicke, so that he thought not to finde her aliue, and comming to the Citie, hée was no sooner alighted from his horse, but hée went straight vnto her Chamber, whereas hée found her with a mightie burning ague, and séeing her in that case, he was as one that was beside himselfe, and the more that her ague increased, the more furious she did shew her selfe and farther out of quiet. So this gréeuous and sicke Ladie did aske paper and inke for to write a few lines vn­to him which was the causer of all this her harme, and ma­king an ende of her writing, without power to doo any other thing, with the great féeblenesse shée felt, she fell downe vpon her pillowe, & speaking vnto Eleno she sayd. ‘Ualiant knight, behold héere thy Lidia, at her last ende: for that there doth not remaine in me strength for to giue thée thankes, for so great benefits as I haue receiued at thy handes: yet I car­rie one great comfort with me, which is, y^• although I dye, yet thy great loyaltie doeth not dye, neyther my firme faith, and although I was vnloued of an vnfaythfull Knight, yet am I beloued of the most couragious knight in the worlde.’ This sorrowfull and troubled Prince woulde not suffer her to goe forwards with her talke, but with shedding of manie teares from his eyes, he sayd.

‘Oh my swéete Mistresse, doe not giue me to vnderstande that thou wilt dye, if that thou meane I shall remaine a­liue. Oh my loue, I would rather that my heart shoulde be parted in twaine, by the greatest enimie that I haue, then to remaine without thée. Oh my louing Mistres, let this thy youthfull yeres and great beautie which thou hast, incourage thée, & die not in this order:’ this feeble Lidia for to shew with more feruentnesse the good will which she did owe vnto the P [...]ce, for his great curtesie forced her selfe to holde vp her head, and he lifted it vp with such quicknesse, as though her weake members had felt no griefe, & as though the furie of [Page] that burning ague was not able to resist her, but with the force of loue she sate vp in her be [...], and with her face of a fi­ery colour she sayd. ‘My Lord, time doth not giue me anye place, that with words I might gratifie the great courtesie that of thée I haue receiued: for that I doo feele, that the ho­wer is come, and that the three fatall sisters haue the thred of my life betwéene the edges of their shéeres, so that it lac­keth nothing but to put them together: insomuch, that I miserable creature doo féele my soule tremble in my flesh, at this my last hower. But one thing, (oh my swéete and true louer) I will desire thée before that I doo dye, which is, that thou wouldest procure, that this letter maye bée giuen vnto that cruell Knight, who hath brought me vnto this estate, giuing him to vnderstande of this my troublesome death, the occasion whereof, was his vnreasonable crueltie.’ And making an end of saying this, this miserable Lady fell downe, without hauing any more strength to sit vp, but let the letter fall out of her hande before her true louer, who tooke it vp and sayd.

‘Oh all my ioye, what a cruell knife is this to my heart, to heare thy complayntes, in giuing me to vnderstande the great crueltie that loue hath vsed against thée, without anye desert or reason: and verely I doo beléeue, that these thy great thoughts and griefes, but most of all thy absence wil be the occasion of my death. And if y^• my enimies are not of power to giue it me, héere I doo sweare vnto thee by the great and true loue which I beare vnto thée, that I my selfe with my owne hands will procure to pull this heart out of his place, for that it knew not how to giue thée contentment paying therwith y^e dutie y^t I ow vnto thée. O happy Brenio that didst obtaine so much grace & fauour at Venus handes, for to be beloued of the flower of all beautie. The Clime in the which thou wert borne was not so happie as to the con­trarie my Clime hath béen vnhappie & vnfortunate. Take a good heart my Mistres, comfort your selfe and be strong, and bée not the occasion that I séeke my owne death, & héere I doe promise thée by thy vnhappie successe, to bring thée in­to [Page 145] the Prouince of Lusitania, or else to die.’

Then this weake Lidia sayde:‘Gentle Knight, there is nowe no time all béeing past, for that I doe féele my selfe that this is the last fight. The sacred Gods will not permit, that before my death I shoulde sée his face: for if I did, I verily beléeue that I should receiue some comfort. O immortall Gods, into your diuine bosomes I doe commend my soule, asking no other reuengement against the causer of all my euill, but that hée die of the same infirmitie. And thou mightie Gréeke, héere I do desire thée by the loue which thou doest séeme to owe me, for that thou séest that my death cannot be excused, and that Proserpina, is tarrying for mée, with both her armes abroade for to receiue my soule. And a­gaine, that this shall be the last request that by me shall bée demanded of thée, as also to verifie this lo [...]e which thou hast shewed vnto me to be true, so that I hope thou canst not by anie meanes denie me to doe it. How is it possible my swéet Mistres, sayd the Prince, that now thou art in doubt of my loue, I promise you that my true loue doth not deserue this suspition, and héere I giue you to vnderstande, that first the mightie riuer of Tigris shall forsake her course and runne backe againe, before that anie lacke shall be found in me of that I owe vnto thy loue, neither anie forgetfulnesse to bee the occasion to withdraw me from doing anie thing that you shall commaund me, therfore swéet mistres aske what your pleasure is, for that thou canst aske nothing at my handes, but it shall be all thine. This weak Ladie, whose power and strength was wholy decayed, and that her houre drew nigh at hande, with a weake and feeble voice she said. That which I desire, gentle Lorde, is, that this my letter may come vnto the handes of Brenio, wherein he may see how cruell he hath bene vnto his Lidia.’ So this dead Ladie spake neuer a word more, for at that instaunt the destinies concluded to cut the thrid of her lyfe a sunder. Heere the Prince lacked both rea­son and patience, heere he lost all his comfort and vnderstan­ding, & comming vnto the dead bodie of Lidia, he fell in a sound, & when (by the procurement of the Ladies and Dam­sells [Page] that were there present) he came to himselfe, he arose vp with a furious wrath, saying:‘Is it of truth swéete soule that thou art departed & gone without me? Is it possible my Lidia y^t I shall not follow thée whether thou doest goe? Alas what shall I doe? where am I y^• I doo consent to let thée depart a­lone? how is this my onely loue, shall I loose thée? What is it y^t this cruell heart aileth, that it renteth not in péeces. O E­leno is this the loue that vnto thy Lidia liuing thou diddest shew.’ At which great noise the other foure Princes entred in­to the chamber, who were meruailously altered to heare his lamentations. So either of them in the best wise he could did procure to comfort him, but this amorous knight with the great anguish that he had, fel in a sound in the armes of Cla­uerindo, who requested the Ladyes and damsells which were there in companie with the dead bodie, that they woulde or­daine some thing to bring him againe to his remembraunce, and so with such remedies as they did make he came againe vnto himselfe, who then with great rage crieng out, called for his Lidia. ‘Oh my Lidia, what is become of thée, who for loue in another mans armes didst die, & now I die for thy loue? Oh the whole staie of all my life, where art thou my Lidia, my comfort, doest thou heare me? Doest thou not carrie with thée this thy heart? No, no, for yet I doe féele it. Is it possible that I can liue, or life will long sustaine me? I hard­ly beléeue it. Oh my ioy, doest thou come againe, I pray thée bée not so ingratefull, but stay a while for I will come vnto thée. For now I am certainely perswaded that I am alto­gether without life. Fond Eleno if thou be dead, wherefore doest thou talke so much of vanities, wherefore doest thou not hold thy peace.’ And with these & such lyke reasons he re­mained without any feeling, in such sort that it séemed that he was dead.

The other Princes which were there present sée­ing him in that case, tooke him betwéene them, and carried him vnto another chamber, and procured that Lidia shoulde be buried, which straight waie was done, for that the King commaunded his Sepulchre shoulde bée open, in which they [Page 146] put this dead Ladie. The Prince of Hungaria did remaine in companie with the Prince Eleno, for that he woulde not let him alone, for hée loued him out of all measure, because hée did resemble so much the valiaunt Rosicleer. So hée re­mained there till such time as hée came vnto himselfe, and the first worde that Prince Eleno sayd, was: Where is the Letter of my Lidia. Liriamandro did giue it him, who taking it in his hand, he sayd.

Oh worke, and the last worke of that white Iuorie hande: héere I doe sweare vnto thée by the honour that I doo owe vnto knighthoode, not to a part it from my heart, till such time as the heart of that cruell Brenio bée cut it péeces, and in speaking this hée kissed it a thousand times, vttering a thousande varieties. And straight waye with a furious anger, hée arose vp and sayde: What is this Eleno, doest thou beléeue that with lamenting thou shalt recouer thy welbeloued Lidia, and not performe that which by her was commaunded thée. It is more requisite that thou doest trauaile and wander, till such time as thou hast performed that which thou hast promised, gather vnto thy selfe strength and courage, for to performe that which thy heart is bounde to doo. So with this anguish he arose vp at such times as Aurora, with his glistering beames hadde spread ouer the earth.

¶How that Eleno before he would goe into the field, would see the Sepulchre of Lidia, and what chaunced in the bat­taile appointed with the Emperor, his kinsmen & friends. Chap. 26.

THE next morning when the daie was come, all these stout warriours were readye on horse backe, but Prince Eleno, woulde first goe and sée the Sepulchre of his Lidia, and going into the Temple of Mahomet, hée went straight vnto the place whereas they tolde him that his Lidia was, and hauing no strength [Page] to suffer the great griefe that his heart did féele, he sayd. Oh my swéete Lidia, if thou doest heare my griefe and lamenta­tion, let it appeare by some outwarde shewe in these harde stones, which hath bewrapt and inclosed thy white and deli­cate body, that receiuing griefe at these my lamentations, it may giue place that I may sée thee, let this my anguish gréeue thée my Lidia, likewise let this my misfortune gréeue thée. But alasse what shall I say, is it not sufficient that the great paine that I doe sustaine for thy death, but I must bewaile my owne sorrowe: Oh mistres, at thy death thou madest an end of all thy paines, and mine doth more and more increase. And in saying these and such like lamentations, he drew out his Dagger, and with the point he wrote an Epitaph, which was as followeth.

So when he had made this Epitaph, he arose vp, saying: héere I doe promise thée Lidia, since my fortune is such that I haue lost thée, there is no other that shall enter into this my heart and hard breast. But how can I saie that it is hard, did it not open at the houre when it felt thy absence, and so without saying anie more, he went out of the temple, with all the rest of his companions, and taking their horses, they altogether issued out of the citie, at such time as the Emperor was arming himselfe in his rich tent. The fierce king of Sar­denia when he sawe that they returned againe, vnto y^• which the daie before they did intreate of, he could not bée in qui­et, but sayde. O king, that for the defence of thy person wée must contende with that man whome we most estéeme, and thou must remaine in the field onely for the shew of a knight, and we inforced to finish the harme, wherof thou art [Page 147] the occasion. ‘Well, doo not thou thinke that it shall be so, but perswade thy selfe, that thou shalt be the first in the incoun­ter, that thou maist proue how euill it is to suffer the [...]urie of the Emperour of Grecia. O worthie king of Sardenia, an­swered the king of Numidia, how the great affection which thou hast vnto the Emperour, doth cause thée not to giue cre­dit vnto this my iustice and right. Héere I doe require thée by the oath which thou madest vnto me, that thou be the first to put thy selfe in the defence of my person. To which the Sardenian aunswered: First, the heauen and the earth shall ioyne together, before that I wil consent that my arme shal mooue it selfe against him, whom I take for my Lord and master. And héere I saye vnto thée oh king, that if thou doo­est but once againe will me héereto, I sweare to thée by the soueraigne God, that neither thy power, nor all thy subiects shall be able to deliuer thée out of my hands.’ So their com­munication was cut off by séeing the Emperour to come to­wards them vpon a very faire horse, who showed so greate furie, that it was a wonder to sée. At this present time there appeared comming from those parts which was towardes the sea, two Knights, who were very well armed. If you do remember, these were the two valiant warriours, the prince of the Sunne, and the strong Sardenian. The great desire that the Emperour had to sée himselfe with the Numidian, was the occasion that he little estéemed the tarrying for those two knights, for that he thought the houre was come of the battaile, and that the defender should be (as he had demaun­ded) that false King and traitour, he put himselfe forwardes towards the place wheras the Princes and the king came. And when they wer together, these Princes with very faire and amorous wordes and of great fidelitie, indeuoured so perswade the Emperour for to leaue the battaile, and that therein they should receiue meruailous great contentment, if he would accept it. The knight of y^• sunne stood & did be­hold their reasonings, & did looke for no other thing but furi­ous battaile, by all tokens y^t they shewed with their handes and other demeanors of their bodies: & knowing fiue of the [Page] knightes, he very much meruailed what shoulde be the occa­sion, and with this desire he had to knowe what should moue them to this controuersie, he sawe a Lackie which passed by, and he called him, & asked of him in the Saracen tongue, sai­eng: Friend, tell me if thou cannest what is the occason that doth cause them to make this cruell and furious battaile, and who they be that doo make it. This Lackie (by the riches of his armour, and by his good proportion) iudged him to bée a knight of estimation, he saide: Gentle Knight, the cause of this controuersie and defence, if I should stand to tell you it all, it would be verie tedious, but of all the rest that thou do­est aske me, I will giue thée to vnderstand that which I dooe knowe. You shall vnderstand that the knight which is a­lone is the mightie Emperour Trebatio of Greece, and that which hée doth maintaine is great iustice and right, and will giue great punishment for the same, which is that that the others doe defend. The knight of the Sunne was very much amazed at that which he hearde, and therewith he went to­wardes them before they had made an end of their reasoning▪ and so without anie shew of trouble he sayd vnto the Prince of Dacia (who was still sore troubled with the sorrowe, as you haue heard). Art thou Don Eleno of Dacia, my cousin, and brothers sonne vnto the Emperour, my Lord and Fa­ther? I am he aunswered the Dacian, who ought not for to dye, before I giue thée thy death, for that thou hast caused so much euill to come vpon me, that liuing I doe now die. The knight of the Sunne béeing almost in a confusion to beare his drie reasons, answered: Louing cousin, I féele my selfe somewhat troubled at these thy wordes, and greatly a­mazed that thou art fallen into so great pride to lift vp thy armed hand against thy naturall parents, and more béeing informed, that which thou doest pretend to defend is appa­rant treason. The Prince Eleno did cut of his talke and said. Oh my cousin, héere I doe tell thée, that I doe séeke no other thing but death, therefore procure to giue it mée, for that I shal thinke my selfe happie to die in thy hands, notwithstan­ding defend thy selfe as thou wert wont to do, for that thou [Page 148] knowest it doth so behooue thée. With this furie and forget­full vnderstanding, speking no more words, he turned about his horse, crying out and saying: I will liue no longer, seeing I haue lost that, beside which, to me can be no greater losse. The knight of the Sun verie much meruailed at these his short reasons, not knowing of anie thing that had happened vnto him, & wondering that his true heart should commit or maintain such wrongs, he turned about his horse for to make his defence, in such sort, that all the knights that were there, were not sufficient to disturbe him, but with great fury they met together with their speares, yet not one of thē was mo­ued in their saddles, but remained as though they hadde bene two towers, and straight way with no lesse force they began to lay hold on their swordes, and for that the knight of the Sunne had a respect vnto him, he did rather procure to make his defence, then in anie thing to offend him, but Don Eleno stroke such a blowe at his cousin, that he made him to stoope with all his bodie to the horse necke. The knight of the Sun would haue taken reuengement of the same blowe, but hée considered that he was his cousin, and that he was ignorant of the cause that should moue him to commit this folly, for the which consideration he did suffer him, and would make no reuengement. Tefereo who sawe all that had passed, & re­mained in his first place without remouing, til time did serue him to accomplish that which he had determined in his mind to doo, and when he sawe occasion for the same, he threw his shéeld vpon his arme, and put his speare in his rest, & made a shew y^t he would be doing with y^e gyant, y^t which he percei­ued, & he put himself in a readinesse, but more to giue him to vnderstand what he was, then to hurt him. This furious Sardenian stroke his horse with the spurs, y^t he made him run like the commet which falleth from the side of Trion, & whē he came in the middest of his course, he turned his horse to­ward the place whereas the king of Numidia was (who had put himselfe a part from the rest) with so great swiftnesse y^t by no meanes he could kéepe or defend himselfe from y^t in­counter, but by reason of the strength wherwith it was giuē [Page] he threw them to the ground, very euill intreated. He was no sooner fallen when that this couragious Sardenian leapt from his horse verie lightly, and found that the king of Nu­midia was on foote readie for to defend himselfe, and crying out: Knightes, succour, succour, or else I am but dead. At the which noise all the other fiue knights looked about, and when they sawe the king in the power of that valiant knight, they would haue rescued him, but the light of all knighthoode which was the father and the sonne, did disturbe them, and put themselues before them, and would not suffer them to giue anie such aide, but did there great wonders, striking on euerie side, in such sort, that now one and then the other they made them to recoile backe. The strong and furious Eleno did but little harme with his swoorde, neither made he anie great resistaunce, the Gyant with as little hast as might bée went to helpe the Numidian king, & with a reasonable pace he went towards the place whereas the king was, (but for that reason would not consent that such as he is should bée holpen) with the hast that he made, his horse stumbled, in such sort, that horse and master fell to the ground, of the which he was verie sore hurt and brused, as it appeared by his slow rising vp againe. The valiant Sardenian with great pollicie procured to bring to an end his desire, before that a­nie did come to disturbe him, and béeing lighted of his horse he made hast to the King and sayde: Thou traytour, it shal little profit or plesure thée to call for help, for y^t in my hands thou shalt leaue this thy traiterous soule, who doeth deserue to suffer all the euills that may bée, and therwith hée stroke him such a blowe vppon his healme, and with so greate furie, that he made him in spite of his heart to knéele with both his knées vppon the earth. So when the Sardenian perceiued him to bée in this case, with greate valyauntnesse he straight wayes layde holde of his healme with his lefte hande, and pulled it cleane from his head, and with his right hande he smote him such a blowe vppon the head, that hée parted it in two péeces, and immediatly hée fell downe dead to the ground, and looking about to sée whether his horse wer [Page 149] gone or no, he found that he was nigh at hande. Then hée tooke the dead king and made him fast vnto the stiroppes of the Saddle, and with a trice hée leapt vpon his horse, and so without anie helpe of his stiroppes, hee made his horse to runne, and so drew the king after him throughout all the fielde. The Gyaunt would haue succoured him, but all was in vaine. In this sorte went Tefereo drawing the king af­ter him before all the knightes that were there present and sayde: Knightes, what doe you meane to bée so still? Why doe you not vpholde and defend this trayterous king, in whose strength was all his confidence? Beholde now where he hath receiued the payment, that such euill workes as his deserued, and therewith he rode round about the fielde as hée did before. The Emperour when hée sawe that this fact was ended, would that his cousin Don Eleno, and the Prince his sonne shoulde leaue theyr battaile, which was betweene them begunne a newe, and they were giuing one another terrible blowes, but not with such great furie, for that they did knowe the one the other, otherwise it woulde haue gone ill on both parts. The Emperour put himself betwéene them and said.

Oh Knights, cease your battaile and hearken vnto my wordes. Eleno which was still kindled in wrath, hadde no respect vnto those wordes, neyther woulde hée part, but lyke a man distraught from himselfe, hée doubled such a blowe vpon the visour of the Emperour, that hée made him loose the sight of his eyes. The Emperour who was verie angry and not a lyttle grieued, at the small regarde that he had of his wordes, woulde presently haue reuenged the blowe, but that hée was disturbed by the Gyaunt, who pulling off his healme went towards the place whereas these thrée wor­thie warriours were, and with a heauie and troubled voyce he sayde.

Heare mée O noble Emperour and you worthie knights, cease this your controuersie and staye your vnweakened armes, till such time as I haue vttered that which I will saye. Then the Emperour with his accustomed méeke­nesse [Page] sayd. Noble King, what is it that thou canst demaund of me, that I would not willingly accomplish? To whome he aunswered. Well, séeing it is so my Lord, I doo desire you to returne vnto your Tent, and take your ease, and to leaue off this, and such like controuersies: for that the cause ther­of, my cousin and brothers sonne, hath taken away from be­twéene you. And when he had sayd these & such like words, he retourned vnto his companions, and perswaded them al­together to retourne vnto the Citie, to the which they all consented, although it was cleane contrary vnto the will of Don Eleno. So when they were entered into the Citie, they found that all the people and burgesses thereof were in great lamentation for the losse of their king and Lord, and the more, for that his death was so shamefull and odious. But they rested not till they came to the Kings Pallayce, whereas they were receiued, and were vnarmed, and com­maunded the dinner to be made readye, whereat they were meruailouslye serued. And when that dinner and all was ended, the valyaunt Giaunt began to speake in this man­ner.

Worthy Princes, and my Lords and friends, you doo well know, and héere you haue séene, how that all our trauayle which we haue had for to defend this king, hath bene great­ly against our honours, and that neither our threatnings nor words were sufficient for to disturbe the will of the Em­perour héerein: for that he knew that his quarrell was ve­ry certaine and iust, which was the occasion, that the punish­ment of this fact in all things hath bene fauourable accord­ing vnto his desire. And for the better verefieng of the same, at that present time you saw come in place, his worthy son, accompanied with my brothers sonne my cousin, that with their aide he should conclude to put in execution his iuste & true desired reuengement: which hath bene a great reproch and ignomy vnto vs all, neither was there in any of vs so much force or st [...]ength to withstande or disturbe him: but after the king being slaine, as you all did sée, they tyed him to the stirrops, and dragged him through all the fielde. So [Page 150] that now you [...]hal vnderstand, the king being dead our oat [...] is frée, and we at libertie, neither stand we bound vnto anye other thing. And that which we ought at this present to bée agréeued at, is, for that we are out of the grace and fauor of our Lorde the Emperour. Therefore one of vs being his brothers sonne, another his sonne in lawe, and another his brother in lawe, and all the rest his déere and intire friends, for that we doo well know that he was not the occasion of this our fonde offence. Let vs now acknowledge our faulte, and procure to enter againe into his fauour and friendship, and goe altogether and discharge our selues, for that it is n [...] shame vnto vs, to aske pardon for our faults and offences. Héere haue I declared vnto you my opinion and my will: & I promise you I am determined to doo this, so that euery [...] one may héerein doo, as best shall please him, and as he shall sée occasion. The first that aunswered héerevnto, was th [...] va [...]ant Tartarian, and sayd.

Excellent king, your counsayl [...] héerein doth like me very well, and we ought not to take anie other counsaile, but this onely which thou hast giuen vs: for that we sée playnelye▪ that it hath pleased God to punish vs, for that we would de­fende and maintaine such euill and naughtinesse, and with­out any farther counsayle we did subiect our selues by our oathes: therefore I doo determine my selfe to followe thy pretended intention. So likewise this counsell séemed good vnto the rest of the Knights and Princes▪ repenting them­selues of all that had bene past. Don Eleno, who was al­most confounded for the controuersie that was betwixt him and his Cousin, with an altered and angrye voyce, he pre­sently replyed.

I doo not deny, but that this which hath happened, hath bene to our infamie as much as may be, by the which it is knowen y^t we haue not maintained y^e truth. But for all that I wil not giue vnto the Emperour nor vnto y^e rest so much glorie, but let them make an end to triumph ouer our base­nes: for as for my part, I wil first die, & be cut all to péeces▪ [Page] then to goe and yéeldo my selfe vnto them, nor to anye per­son in the whole world. Let euery one doo as he thinketh best, for that the Dacian Prince will not let to be the same, which his fortune hath ordained, and therewith he arose vp from the table, and made as though he went vnto his cham­ber, but he did not: for incontinent he called a Lackey of his, and armed himselfe, and commaunded him very secretly to carrie his horse out of the Citie, and to tarrie for him there, and the lackey did as the prince had commanded him. So when he was out of the Citie, he leaped vpon his horse, and carried in no place till he came vnto the waters side, and by chaunce he came vnto the place whereas the barke was, that brought his cousin thether, into which he entered, and his lackey put in his horse. He was no sooner in, when that with great swiftnesse the barke began to make sayle, wher­as we will leaue him till time doo serue.

Now I will retourne vnto the Princes, who after ma­ny reasonings, determined to goe foorthwith vnto the Em­perours tent, and went vnto the chamber of Don Eleno ▪ to perswade him to doo the like, but when they came ther, they neither found him nor his armour, for the which they were very sad and sorrie, imagining straight waye what he had done. And séeing that it was labour lost to goe and séeke him, they themselues determined to departe without him. And when they came vnto the scowtes of the host, it was asked them what they fought, and what they would haue? The Giaunt sayd vnto them: Friends, goe vnto the Em­perour, and tell him that héere are the Knights with whom he had all his late contention, that are very desirous to speak with him. So the scoutes sent a messenger straight way vn­to the Emperor. And when he had told it vnto him, he com­maunded that they should presently let them passe.

When the Emperour vnderstoode that they drewe nigh vnto the Tente, with his mightie courage, and with his accustomed noblenesse, hée went out to méete them, with his royall armes spredde abroad, and so by one and one he louingly imbraced them all, and also desired them, [Page] [...]hat there might be no communication of that which had past, for that it would be the occasion to disturbe their ioye and mirth which they ought to vse together meeting by ad­uenture together in straunge Countries, so he cast his e [...]e a­side to sée where his cousin the Prince Eleno was, but when he could not sée him, he asked for him, and it was tolde him all that had passed, and the dolorous end of Lidia, for y^• which they were verie sorrowfull, but especially the knight of the Sunne, for that he loued him verie much, and if the Empe­rour his Father had not disturbed him, he would haue gone to haue sought him. Likewise the great ioy and contentment which the Gyant receiued in séeing his cous [...]n Tefereo, was no lesse then Tefereos to sée his vnckle, so that the delight of all of them apparantly appeared. In this sort they passed a­waie the time till it was night without féeling anie paine of their passed trauaile. The next daie in the morning the king of Cimarra did arise, meruailouslye richlye apparelled, with roabes of cloth of golde, and went vnto the knightes, giuing them to vnderstand that he was more contented and in qui­et then anie other king, in that he was reuenged in such sort as you haue heard. This good king neuer ceased in giuing thanks vnto the Emperour for the great curtesie which hee receiued at his hands, and there they gaue order that all the whole camp should returne vnto their owne countrie, for that which they came for was concluded, and that their departure shuld be in such sort, y^t the people shuld not do anie harme, y^t which was straight waie accomplished, & they appointed for king ouer that countrie a valiant knight, of whom we will intreate in the third part of this historie. So all the people of the king of Cimarra without giuing anie occasion of anger or harme, by the waie which they went, came vnto the place whereas they left all their fléete of ships, and there they im­barked themselues, and committed theyr Sailes vnto the winde, which they founde fauourable and prosperous, and brought them quickly vnto Cimarra, whereas the king did detaine them fifteene dayes, although they were vnwilling. At the end whereof they determined to depart their way to­wards [Page] Grecia, and comaunded to fraight a very faire ship: so taking their leaue, and shipping themselues, they had a pleasaunt and peaceable winde, which brought them vnto the hauen Pireo in Grecia, whereas they went all a shoare: and all of them tooke horse sauing the great Gyaunt, who trauailed on foote, so they tooke their way towards Constan­tinople. And when they came within two miles of it, nigh vnto a great house of pleasure, whereas the Empresse was at that time. In the middest of the waye, they sawe two knights, which were in a very great and well foughten bat­taile. Whereas we will leaue them, for to tell you what the Morisco, King of Mauritania did, in the place whereas wée lefte him.

¶How that the two Empresses went for to recreate themselues vnto a house of pleasure, and what hap­pened vnto them in that iourney. And howe the King of Mauritania found them in their pastimes, and knowing who they were, he would haue laide hold vpon the Empres Briana. Cap. 27.

BEfore in the historie, if you doo remember, the fierce Moore Brufaldoro came vnto the place whereas a companye of Ladyes and damsells were, whereas he stayed to looke and beholde them: and with them wer sit­ting knights of a good disposition, and well proportioned. At which time as we began to intreate of them, I did not tell you who they were: but now you shall vnderstand, that they were the two Empresses of Constan­tinople and Trapisond, who were come vnto that house of pleasure for to recreate themselues, which was verye nigh vnto a faire village. And the occasion of this theyr going foorth, was the great estéemed Quéene of Lira, (of whom till now our historie hath made no mention, nor of hir surpas­sing excellencies, but hath referred them till time did serue) Shée béeing manye times with the Empresse Claridiana, [Page 152] heard her teil of some feates of knighthoode that had pas­sed by her, the which the Quéene with great contentment gaue eare vnto, imagining within her selfe to be of as good disposition, and haue as much strength as she, yea, and rather more: and knowing that her strength was much, she purpo­sed verye secretlye to proue her selfe, and taking this place (whether as they went to recreate themselues) to be very fit for to performe her will, with all secrecie in the worlde, she commaunded that her armour (which Lirgandeo had pre­sented vnto her) should be carried thether, which was ful­filled and done by the damosells, for that they all had a great delight to pleasure and serue her, she was of them so welbe­loued, and her excellent vertues deserued no lesse. So when they were come vnto the house of pleasure, she went foorthe to recreate her selfe with two Ladyes towards a fountaine somewhat out of the waye, whereas the Empres & her La­dyes were set downe. And for that the Empresse Claridiana did vnderstand, (whether by her owne imagination, or that Lirgandeo had aduised her) that in such place commonly do­eth fall out some aduentures, she commaunded to giue vnto her, her armour, which she caused to be brought vnto that house: and whilest she was arming, came the Moore Bru­faldoro, thether: who séeing so faire a company, had a great desire to knowe who they were, and comming vnto a dam­sell which was thereby, speaking with great courtesie, hée sayd. Damosell let me obtaine. I pray you, so much fauour at your hands, that you will tell me who they be that are in this faire company. This damsell séeing that with so great curtesie and good manners he did request her, and being a knight of so good disposition, she said. Sir knight, they be the Empresse of Grecia and her Ladies, which are come to this place to recreate themselues: and haue brought hether for their sauegard these well proportioned knights. When the Moore vnderstood that there was the Empresse of Gre­cia, there entred straight way many things in his imagina­tion, and many thoughts troubled his minde, till such time, as he dermined to doo that, which I will tell you.

[Page]So with a determined purpose he came vnto the place wher as the Empresse was: and without saying any worde, hée tooke her vy the arme, and with great strength lifte her vp, till he had her on his saddle bowe before him, and tourning his horse about he tooke his waye towards that place, from whence he came, with purpose to imbarke himselfe againe, in that shippe in which he came thether, and so to carrie her away: but the noyse and shrikes of the Ladyes and Da­mosells were so pitifull and lowde, that there came vnto them the knights that were dispersed abroad in the forrest and other places. And when they came, and saw all that had passed, they altogether followed the Moore, so fast as theyr horse could runne: and in a short time they came for to take away his bootie, so that whether he would or not, he was driuen to let her goe, for to defende himselfe from y^e blowes which the knights layd on him, who on the one side and on the other, began to strike fiercely at him: but he made no more reckoning of them, then the huge and mightie Rocke doth of the troublesome waues of the seas, beating against it continually. Euen so were the blowes which the Gréeke knights stroke vpon the Pagan, who séeing himselfe hinde­red of his purpose, drew out his sword, and stroke one of those knights such a blowe vpon the shoulder, that he cut him downe to the girdle, so that he fell downe dead to the ground: and not content héerewith, but began so to bestur himselfe, that in a small time, he seperated them all, some slaine and some very sore hurt & wounded. In this [...]ime, that these knights were in their battaile, the Empresse Claridi­ano was armed, and set vpon a mightie strong horse, and came with great yre, and sayd. Oh infernall Pagan, what diuell was that, which made thée so bolde with those vyle & wicked hands to come and take holde of the Empresse: and in saieng these words, she drew out her sworde, and stroke him such a blowe vpon the healme, that she made him boow his head vnto his breast: but straight wayes the Pagan came to himselfe, and firming his féete in his stirroppes hée made her aunswere, with a blowe no lesse furious then that [Page 153] that he had receiued. So there began one of the best fough­ten battailes that euer was betwéene two Knights. The Empresse when she sawe her selfe cleare out of the handes of the Moore, got on the one side, and sate downe vpon the gréene hearbs and did beholde the battaile. All the Ladyes & Damosells when they sawe her at libertie, ranne vnto the place whereas shée was, and in small time they had com­passed her with a milde lamentation. At the same time out of the thickest of the Forrest came foorth a Knight verye well armed, with gréene armour, all to be spotted with Lyl­lyes; and his shéelde of the same manner, but in the middest thereof was painted a hand, which séemed to be in a lake of water, holding in it a Lilly flower. And as he saw that fu­rious battaile, he went vnto one of the Ladyes, and with a gracious courtesie he demaunded the occasion thereof. The effect thereof she tolde, and declared vnto him which was the knight that was in the Empresse defence. At this time the battaile was so kindeled, that with the furious blowes that were giuen, it had bene sufficient to haue cut a rocke in péeces. This strong Empresse was so wrathfull, that her battaile was more gouerned with yre then by pollicie, and with the great choller that she had, she stroke the Pagan so terrible a blow, that he fell downe vpon his horse necke, without any remembraunce, and with the sound of that ter­rible blow the horse was somwhat scarred, in such sort, that he carried his master a while about the fielde. The Empres following him with her light horse, thinking that she hadde made an ende of the battaile, when that in the middest of her course, the Moore came to himselfe againe, and with madnesse, he fomed at the mouth, and beginning to vse his accustomed cursings against Mahomet. And recouering his sword, taking it fast in both his hands, he went towards the Empresse Claridiana, threatening her with a furious blowe.

The Empresse who sawe the blowe comming, shée lyfte vp her shéelde to receiue it therewith, the blowe fell so terri­ble [Page] thereon, that it parted it in two péeces, and lighted on her healm [...] in such great force and furie, that it made her to fall backwards vpon the crouper of her horse without anie féeling, voyding much bloud out of her visour, with which blowe the horse was scarred, and ranne rounde about the fielde, the which when the Pagan saw, he followed after the Empresse, as the hauke, when you haue taken of her hood, discouering the Heron, with great fury flieth at her: euen so went this Moore saying. Now will I sée Empresse, whe­ther all the strength of this knight be sufficient for to hin­der me, that I carry thée not into a place, where Mahomet shall not be able to deliuer thée, nor take thée out of my hands.

Then the gentle Knight of the Lillyes, did put himselfe before the Empresse, and sayd. Stande thou proud Pagan, for first before thou dost that which thou thinkest to doo, it standeth thée in hand to looke to thy selfe, and in saying these words, he drew out his sword, and stroke him such an ouer­thwart blowe vppon the visour of his healme, that he was ready to fall downe on the other side, and with the strength thereof, it depriued him of his sight, and after that hée stroke another blowe on the other side, that the Moore was not able to make any defence, but that he fell downe vpon his horse head. The Moore being kindeled with great madnesse, to sée two such mightie blowes giuen him, and he not able to make any defence. when he was come to himselfe, he went against his aduersary with his sword fast in both his hands, who was in the same sort tarrying for him: & they strake both together such terrible blowes, that both of them were constrayned to imbrace their horse neckes for not falling: but setteling themselues again, they recouered their swords, and pressed the one against the other, as commonlye the wilde Bulls doo in their fight, with the lyke yre these two ioyned together, making one of the most perillous battells in the world, striking one another whereas they might doo most harme.

[Page 154]It was so much without pittie, and with so furious wrath, as though it had bene two Lyons, and giuing such notable blowes, and battering of the copper and yron with such great noyse, that it did not onely glowe in the eares of those Ladies and the rest that were looking on, but the mountaines thereabout were moued with compassion and pitie, to sée their great crueltie one toward another. At this time the Empresse Claridiana was come to her selfe, and when she remembred the great peril in the which she was, she called vnto God for his helpe, and tourning about her light horse with so great swiftnesse, that wheresoeuer he did put his foote, there was no signe séene, she came vnto the place whereas the battaile was. The Knight with the gol­den Lyllyes with a high voyce sayde. Most mightle and Emperiall Lady, take you the Empresse and carrie her a­waye, and leaue her in safetie, and let me alone to punish this vncourteous Knight.

Then the Empresse and all her Ladyes did call her and sayd. Ualyaunt and worthy Lady, prouide to set vs at ly­bertie, where we may be out of daunger, that you maye re­tourne in time to helpe this Knight that hath done vs so much good. The Empres consented héereto at their requests, and so taking their palfrayes, they went with great hast vn­to the Village. But when the Pagan did vnderstand, that it was a woman, which had brought him into so great ex­tremitie, with a great noyse he sayd. Oh vile Mahomet, false, and of a base kinde: for thou, to doo mée more euill and shame, hast ca [...]sed me to enter into battaile with a wo­man, who hath brought me into this necessitie. Oh traytor, and fa [...]sifier of thy faith, come downe from the Cottage whereas thou art, and I will giue thée to vnderstand, that thou thy selfe with all thy might shalt not be able so much to anger me, in that thou hast so despitefollye for my dis­honour and shame, put mée in battayle before a wo­man. The gentle knight with the Lillyes to those wordes sayd.

[Page]Holde thy peace Pagan and be still, and speake not so proud­ly, whereas in resp [...]ct thereof thou shalt not be feared: for héere I doo certifie thée, that the Empresse Claridiana hath brought into subiection many better then thou art, and made them to stoope. And for that thou shalt vnderstand how lit­tle thou art estéemed in Greece, and how much more thou maist complaine thy vnhappinesse, knowe that I am lyke­wise a woman as she is, and am called Archisilora Quéene of Lira, and with the strength of my armes, I hope to cut off this wretched head from thy accursed shoulders. And it was very true which was spoken, for when she went away from the company of the Ladies, she went to arme her selfe, with purpose to demaund battaile of the Empresse Claridi­ana, but when she came forth, she founde them as you haue alreadye heard.

The Pagan could be no more angry and wrathfull then he was, and without speaking any word, he turned & stroke very strongly at the Quéene, who with no lesse fury defen­ded her selfe, and returned his blowes with both her hands, that it made a meruailous noyse. At this present time ap­proched the two lights of all knighthood, the Emperour of Grecia and his sonne, and with them the Giaunt and the rest of the Princes that came with them. You shall vn­derstande that these were the two knights, that in the high waye they founde in cruell battaile, and meruailing verye much at the power that was in the two warriours, they stayed to behold them, not knowing who they were. The Knight of the Sunne who had his eyes more fixed on them then the rest, did knowe the Pagan, as one which had first proued his furious force, & turning vnto y^e Emperor his fa­ther he told him all that which had hapned vnto him in the fierce battaile which he hadde fought before with him in Fraunce.

Then they estéemed much the knight with the Lilies, to sée how well and how valiauntly he did behaue himselfe, not onely in this subtill defence, which against his aduersarie he made, but also his pollicie he made in offending his enimie. [Page 155] So the knight of the Sunne with the greate desire that hée had to reuenge himselfe on the Pagan, mooued his horse to­wardes him. At which time there came forth of the village a Knight with white armour, all full of Garlands of golde, made by subtill art. Likewise his shéelde was white, and there was painted on it an Emperiall head, which shewed as though it had béene cut off with a cruell knife, the throat all so bée rayed with bloud, verie artificially wrought, and when hée sawe the battaile, hée put himselfe to behold them, at such time as the valyaunt Gréeke approched vnto the two knightes that were in battaile for to speake vnto them, and hée sayd: Worthie knight with the Lyllyes, for curte­sies sake (if this battayle be of small importaunce) that thou wouldest let me alone with this Pagan, for that I haue a iust quarrell against him. This excellent Ladie looking vp­pon the knight of the Sunne as one which had neuer séene him, meruailing much at his fayre disposition, and replyed, saying: I woulde be verie gladde sir Knight, for your great curtesie and gentle demeanour, to leaue to you the battaile, if the occasion were not of so greate waight. Therefore I dooe desire you that you would stand aside, for if my successe fall out vnfortunatly, there will time inough remaine, for to execute your anger. The Moore did well vnderstand the de­maunde of the Knight of the Sunne, and knewe him verye well to bée the same that gaue him the order of Knighthood, and when hée sawe him, hée roared lyke a furious Lyon, say­ing: Oh vile and base Knight, to whome Mahomet hath giuen more power and strength then hée hath himselfe, come, come, and bring with thée in companie all these that bée there with thée, for of all you together I dooe estéeme no­thing at all, and in saying these wordes, hée pressed vnto the Knight of the Sunne, verie fiercely and with greate courage the knight of the Sunne met him in the waye, and put him­selfe before the Quéene, but this excellent Ladie with great lightnesse returned and did recouer her standing, and said vn­to him.

Knight, bée not so farre out of measure, to giue ease [Page] and helpe vnto them that giue thée no thankes for it. But the Prince who was then burning with wrath, retour [...]ed againe by the lefte side to put himselfe before her, and gaue the Pagan so terrible a blowe, that he made all his bodye to shake. The knight with the Lillyes did put himselfe a­gaine before and sayde. In an euill houre doest thou vse this greate vncurtesie with one that thou doest not knowe. The fearce Pagan in all this time was not idle, but at such time as the Quéene did crosse the waye for to take her roome, the Pagan stroke her so stronglye, that it lacked but a little, that shée fell not from her horse to the ground. The knight with the Emperiall head when he sawe that, set his spurres to his horse, and sayd.

O men of small estimation, come hether to mée one of you, and dooe not occupie your selues in such controuersies. And with saying these and such lyke wordes, hée stroke the Quéene such a blowe, that he made her téeth to chatter in her head, in such sorte, that shée had almost lost her féeling, but hée had no cause to boast himselfe verie much of that blowe, for that quickly she retourned his salutation with so great strength, that shée gaue him well to vnderstand her cauragious force. Nowe there beganne a rigorous bat­tayle, and the Knight of the Sun remained alone with the Pagan: Oh wise and warrelyke Eliza, giue mée to drinke of that water which the nine sisters did discouer, that by the helpe of that swéet liquor I may make sharpe my rude tongue, so that mixing the spéech of Mercurie with the prow­esse of Mars, I maye vnfolde this furious battayle which these foure knightes made, who with excéeding and won­derfull blowes stroke one another, without anie casing, that they made them whether they woulde or no, to incline their bodyes to theyr horse head, without anie féeling. In this sorte continued these valyaunt and warlyke knightes a good space, till such time as the Empresse Claridiana came in great hast, running with her light horse, and making a great noise, without anie consideration, but onely to bée re­ [...]enged on the Pagan and sayd.

[Page 156]Giue roome, giue roome, for this battaile dooth belong vn­to mée to make an ende thereof. And without anie more speaking shée put her selfe before the knight of the Sunne, and beganne to laye on the Pagan with her furious blowes. The Pagan was nothing abashed at that, but as one which had strength and courage inough, he receiued them. Then the knight of the Sunne with greate anger sayde. Tell mée knight what is the cause which hath mooued thée to offer such lyke villanie. This womanly warriour retourned vn­to him, and straight waye shée did knowe him to bée the Knight of the Sunne. Héere all you true louers may iudge the greate ioye that shée receiued when shée beheld before her, him who with so great loue she loued, and the greate desire she had to heare of him. So shée replyed with verie amorous wordes, and sayde.

My déere and welbeloued Lord, séeing that fortune hath brought you hether at this instaunt, procure ioyntly with your reuengement to work mine against this Pagan. Then the knight of the Sunne did knowe that it was his Ladie, wherewith his strength increased, and also his anger, vnder­standing that the Pagan had vsed discurtesie agaynst her, and sayd: How is this thou false Pagan, that thou hast ben so hardie, for to anger and disquiet such a Ladie: Tarry, for héere I wil giue thée thy reward according vnto thy deserts. And with a new strength and valiant courage he pressed for­wards. This pagan was amazed in séeing his enimy to shew more strength and better courage, which continually increa­sed more and more, yet for all that hée shewed no kinde of faintnesse, but rather he stroke at him such terrible blowes and with so greate strength, as at anie time before hée had not done the lyke. At this time the Emperour, (which tyll that time did beholde all that had passed, and suffered not himselfe to be knowen vnto anie, by reason that he continu­ally had his healme on his head) pulled off the same, that the more better to his contentment he might sée and beholde this furious battayle. Then the people of the Uillage [Page] which wer come foorth for to sée the battaile, when they saw the Emperours face and knew him, they altogether with a great shoute sayd. Oh happie is this daye, in the which wée haue séene the excellent face of our renowmed Emperour, & therewith altogether they ran to him for to kisse his hands, and he which could first come vnto him, he thought himselfe most happiest. For he was the best be loued Prince amon­gest his subiects in all the world. Many of them with great hast went to tell the Empresse, for to get a rewarde. The Pagan by the great stirring and rus [...]ing of the people, vn­derstood that the Emperour was there, and thought within himselfe, that there he coulde get no honour, wherfore with great fury he lifte vp his sworde, and griping it fast in his hand, he stretched himselfe in his stirrops all y^t euer he could and strake such a terrible & furious blowe vpon the healme of the knight of the Sup [...]e that without any féeling be fel vpon his horse crupper, & when he saw him in that traunce, he set spurs to his horse, and made him to runne lyke the winde through the middest of all the people, that were look­ing on the battell, and like as a Lyon in the mountaynes of Libia, whose breast is wounded by the stout hunts man, lea­uing his darte in him, and besprinkeling all the grasse, with his bloud, which he doth expell from him without a­ny feare, and tearing in péeces the dart, that was cause of all his harme, he giueth great and horrible roarings with his bloudie mouth, and bristling vp his rugged haire. So with like furie this valiaunt Pagan past thorough amongest the people that were there, so that some he threwe downe from their horse, and others he lefte very sore hurt, and with this perillous assault he put himselfe into the thicke woods. The Quéene which was fighting with the knight of the Empe­riall head, did sée very well, how that the the Moore was es­caped, and with the great anger which she had to sée him runne away without taking reuengement of him, she gaue so terrible a blowe vnto her aduersarie that it made him to ioyne his head with his breast, and lefte him without any remembraunce, and without any more tarrying, shée went [Page 157] and followed the Pagan. The knight of the Sunne, who at this time was come to himselfe, and had fully recouered his remembraunce, and could not sée his enimie, he demaunded for him. And there it was tolde him of his desperate run­ning away. The Prince would haue followed him, if the Emperour had not letted him. Likewise the Knight with the Emperiall heade came againe vnto himselfe, and think­ing to haue made payment of that blow vnto his aduersary, he looked round about and could not sée her, and beholding all the rest which were in that company, he sawe that they were all well content and very ioyfull, and full of pleasure, wherefore without any more tarrying he put himselfe in­to the forrest, leauing the Emperour and all the rest, verye desirous to know who he was, as also of the knight of the Lillyes: the which was straight waye tolde him by a Da­mosell of the Quéenes, at the which they all remained much amazed, iudging it to be one of the most notablest things, that was in all the world. The Empresse when she vnder­stood the good newes, straight waye went forth for to sée the Emperour, with so much ioye and pleasure, that she scantlye knew where she was: & when she came to cast her armes for to imbrace him she sayde. My Lorde, I doe not compare this imbracing vnto that, which an vncurteous Knight did giue me not long since. The Emperour did receiue her with great loue and gladnesse, and imbracing her harde he sayde. My louing Lady, let the delight of this, cause you to fo [...]get the despite of the other, and yet by it we haue lost the most excellent Lady in all the world, which is the Quéene of Li­ra. Then did the Emperour declare vnto her all y^t had past, there in his sight, at the which the Empresse greatlye mer­uailed, and was sorie for her departure: & with she great ple­sure she receiued at the sight of the Emperour, she did not looke for the famous Knight of the Sunne, vntill such time as he came to kisse her hande: then was all-her ioye whol­ly accomplished. So there they declared vnto the Emperor of the departing of Rosicleer and Brandimardo, and how [...]hat they neuer heard any newes of them.

[Page]There was no lesse ioye betwéene the Knight of the Sunne and his spouse, for the one receiued the other with great re­ioycing. For by reason of the water that he dronke at the fountaine, he had cleane forgotten and lost the loue he had to Lindabrides, which was the occasion of a double delight with his welbeloued Lady. This faire Empresse somewhat dissi­muling the sorrow which she had for the losse of her chil­dren, declared it vnto her déere beloued spouse, who with no lesse discretion, did giue her the hearing, not suffering her to knowe the griefe that he receiued, but rather comforted her, and gaue her to vnderstande by outwarde showes, that hée was very well content of all that had happened, which was vnto her great and perticular ioye and pleasure. So in this order they went talking together, till they came vnto the village, whereas they were receiued of all the people, with great ioye and reioycings, and with sundry pastimes, and there they dined: and in this sort they passed the rest of the daye.

The next daye in the morning they went towards Con­stantinople, ane there was not one who sawe the Emperor and his company but receiued great pleasure. But Sindera the Dutchesse, and Aunt vnto Archisilora, was greatly grie­ued for hir absence. As they trauailed by the way, y^e knight of the Sunne determined to giue the Emperour to vnder­stande of all the loue that had passed betwéene him and the Empresse Claridiana. So the Emperour when he vnderstood it, was nothing sorrie for that which had past, but rather did determine to sende and call for the subiects and vassalles of the Empresse, and so in publike to marrie them together: yet at that time he did not giue him to vnderstande of the losse of the two children,

So with this and like communication, they came vnto the Citie, whereas they were receiued, as vnto their estate appertayned. And at their entering into the Pallaice, there came forth to receiue them, the Princesse Tigliasa, and the faire Oliuia, who for the discontentment which they recei­ued for the absence of their Knights, would not goe forth of [Page 158] Constantinople. What shall I saye to you of the Tartarian Zoylo, he was so out of quiet and troubled to sée the prin­cesse, that he was almost beside himselfe, and chaunged his coulour, and lyke a man without vnderstanding hée came downe from the Pallayce, making a great noyse: and with out taking any rest, he went out of the Citie, and with great fury he put himselfe into the woods and wildernesse of Gre­cia, leauing the sorrowfull Lady with so much care, that if the wise Lirgandeo had not comforted her, she thought ve­rely to haue dyed at that present time, by whose counsell she was willed to goe and séeke him, and to carrie in companye with her two of her damosells: and he promised her so to remedie her sorrow, that she should be fully satisfied. The which did fall out cleane contrary: for that the knowledge of man doth little auaile to hinder the will of the Creator of all things. As héereafter shall be tolde you in the third part of this historie.

Now to retourne vnto the great pleasure which the sub­iects of the Emperour receiued for his comming: it was in such sort, that they did no other thing but make feastes and pastimes. In the meane time whilest they were making all these pastimes in Constantinople, they sent to call the sub­iectes and vassalles of the Empresse Claridiana, who came straight waye without anye delaye: and they which came, were the King of Pontus, and the King Simonia, and the great Duke of Alafonte. Unto whome was declared the whole occasion wherefore they were called. And when they knew y^t they shuld obtayne for their Lord so royal a prince, they were meruailously well contented and receiued greate pleasure: and without any more tarrying they made them sure together, whereat was made great feasts and pastimes▪ and there he was sworne Emperour, and they desired them, that they would goe & acknowledge their lands & countries, and gaue them to vnderstande, that the long absence of the Empresse was the occasiō of many dissentions, wherein some rebellious people did begin to shew their cankered thoughts. [Page] To the which they graunted with a verie good will, and they carryed with them Tefereo and his vnckle. What shall I héere declare vnto you of the honorable receiuings and great pastimes and sportes which were made vnto them, it were too much héere to write, so the possession of all the Empire was giuen vnto them, wheras they determined to take their rest, till such time as fortune caused the contrarie, whereas they reigned with the most highest fame that euer any other obtained. And héere we will leaue them till time serueth, and begin to declare of the high & worthie feates of the faire Ar­chisilora, the Quéene of Lira.

¶How the worthie Queene Archisilora was gone to pursue the Pagan, and of that which happened in the way of her battaile. Chap. 28.

THE worthie Quéene of Lyra which with great hast followed after the Pagan, strik­ing with her spurres her light horse (who was without fault of all that had past) yet all was in vaine for to finde the Moore, but her swiftnes was lyke vnto a furious thun­der bolt, for she trauesed in such great hast, that ther was no signe séene where her horse did tread: but all her labour was in vaine, for that she went cleane contrarie vnto the waye which the Pagan went, but as the thought of this irefull Ladie was for no other thing, but to procure to séeke him, shée neuer left this her furious course, till such time as shée came vnto y^e sea side, whereas for all the furie she was forced to staie, neuerthelesse she looked round about her on euerye side to sée if shée could discouer or finde him, whom with so great desire she sought, and in looking about her, she sawe come forth from that part of the forrest a damosell, who was verie faire, and saluted the Quéene verie curteously, who re­turned againe her salutation, and asked her, saying: Fayre Damosell, can you tell me anye tidings of a knight y^t should come this waie, all in white armour. And what is it that [Page 159] you would with this knight, answered the Damsell: it maye be (that if you will graunt me a thing that I will aske you) that I will carrie you into a place wheras you shall sée him. Heere I doe graunt it thée sayd the Quéene: You shall vnder­stand, that in great hast he doth nauigate by sea, sayde the Damsell, therefore I doe desire thée (if thou wilt follow me) to put thy selfe in a barke with me which is héere by. The Quéene looking towards that part whereas the Damsell did shew her, sawe the Barke which was verie faire and great. The Damsell lighted from her palfraie, and put her selfe in the barke, and sayd: Knight with the Lillyes, if thou wilt haue that thou séekest, it behooueth thée to enter into this Barke with me, that I may carrie thée whereas thou shalt loose on a sodaine thy great mirth and gladnesse, thy heart re­maining in so great captiuitie, that the best remedie that thou shalt conceiue, shall be to desire the death. This fayre la­die had no regard to demaund the secrets of those words, as shée which made no reckoning of whatsoeuer should happen, neither did estéeme it, but without anie more wordes, shée lighted from her horse, and leading him by the bridle, she put her selfe into the Barke, she was not so soone entered in, but as the péece of ordinaunce which by the force of kindling the powder, casteth out the pellet with great force: with no lesse furie the barke shooued from the shore side. The damsell whē she sawe her selfe at the Sea, she sayd: Gracious Ladie, doo you knowe me. The quéene turned about to beholde her, and beholding her well, she sawe that it was the wise Lyrgan­deo, at the which she found her selfe sore troubled, Lyrgandeo séeing that she did knowe him, sayd: Worthie Ladie, feare you nothing in this iourney, for by me thou shalt be carryed whereas thy fame shall be exalted, till such time as the braue Lyon doth rob thy heart, & thou remaining ouercome, shalt ouercome one of the best knights in all the world. And ma­king an ende of these reasons, he vanished awaie, she knew not howe: And although the Quéene remained somewhat pacified, with that which Lyrgandeo had sayde, yet for all that, she did not let to thinke and muse of his wordes, and [Page] that verie much: so straight waie came to her remembraunce the furious battaile of the Pagan, and likewise shée conside­red of the furie of the knight of the Emperiall head, and sée­ing that shée coulde not ouercome them, she remained verie sorrowfull, and lyfting vp her eyes vnto heauen, with great ire she blasphemed against her Gods, and blamed much the wise Lyrgandeo for his negligence, but when shée called to remembraunce the wordes of Lyrgandeo, and what hée had sayde, shée altered her minde and chaunged her thoughtes, and beganne a new to consider of the sharpe cutting swoord of the Mauritanian, which more entered into her heart, then the wilde Boares tooth in the daintie bodie of the fayre A­donis. In this manner this solitarie Quéene of Lyra dyd nauigate foure dayes, and was so pensiue in thought, that she forgot and had no remembraunce to refresh her selfe in ea­ting, but the wise Lyrgandeo had alwayes a greate care that shée should be serued verie daintely, not knowing who did serue her. So the fifte daie verie early in the morning shée discouered lande towardes her left hande, and the Barke in greate hast and with verie much swiftnesse made her way [...] thether, She went so fast, that almost she hadde no time to arme her selfe before that the Barke came vnto the shoare, where shée might most at ease disimbarke her selfe, accord­ing vnto the will of the wise man. So when they were at the shoare, shée tooke her horse by the bridle and went a lande, and without putting her foote into the stiroppe, shée leaped into the Saddle, and guided her selfe into a narrowe waie, all garnished with trées of diuerse sortes, whereas the chirping Birdes did make theyr accustomed songes without feare of anie man to molest them. Amongest the which trées there did not lacke the Sallowes, nourished by Alciades, nor the gréene Lawrell, so much estéemed of glistering Ap­pollo, nor the swéete Myrtle trée hallowed by Venus, nor the high Cypres, so much regarded of Cupide, nor the harde Oake, so much desired of Mars, nor the Pine apple tree, which Iupiter dooeth cause to flourish. Of all the which this mightie Quéene did féele and had great delight, iudge­ing [Page 160] it to bée the habitation of the Gods, for that the Sunne with his glistering beames did passe through those gréene and pleasaunt trées, without anie let or hinderaunce of the heauens, by reason of theyr cléerenesse, with a verie soft [...] [...]nd pittering winde, shaking all those gréene leaues, which did make so swéete a noyse that it seemed rather celestiall then terrestriall, and a thousand little Brookes which ranne vpon the enamelled grounde, making sundrie fine workes and de­uises, by theyr crooked runninges and tourninges, and ioy­ning one water with another, with a verie gentle méeting, not making anie greate noise. This fayre Ladye béeing ra­uished at the sight of this celestiall habitation, had not anye regarde at all, whether that her horse went in the right way or not. And trauailing in this sorte shée went forwardes till shée came into a meruaifous greate and wide medowe, béeing of so greate fayrenesse, that I am not with my pen able to paint out the excellencie thereof. Whereas was fée­ding both wilde and tame Hartes, adorned with their great and cragged hornes. Likewise the furious wilde Boare, the simple Connies, and the enuious Beare, with the fierce Ly­on, altogether were féeding with so greate friendshippe, as to the contrarie by Nature they are enimies. The Ladie was in such a dumpe to sée and beholde the great difference that was, and the greate loue betwéene these wild and tame beasts which were there present, that she did not cast vp her eyes to beholde a verie fayre and sumptuous Pallaice which was in the middest of the medowe, and vppon that sodayne sight shée fell in a musing and dumpe, as commonly the hus­band man doeth when he goeth into the wilde fieldes and cragged mountaines, to séeke his simple shéepe which he hath lost, or as one finding himselfe in a royall citie, all garnished with rich citizens, of excéeding good behauiour, staieth at eue­rie doore & corner of the stréets, musing at their strange appa­rell, being different from that which hée hath séene before in his owne countrie: euen so was this Quéene ouercome in her owne conceite, and amazed in her imagination, to see so straunge loue, cleane contrarie vnto nature.

[Page]The wise Lyrgandeo doth write, for that he would not put the reader in admiration, he wold not tell all which he might of this straunge workmanship, but part thereof, which is re­quisite to this our historie. Towards that part of the princi­pall gate, and right before the pallace there appeared twelue Pinacles of so great and mightie height, that the pyramides of Aegypt were verie lowe in comparison to them, in such sort, that whosoeuer would looke on them, was scant able with his sight to comprehend the height, and they were all made of different coulours of stone: downe below vnder the towre there was an arch, with a gate, which séemed to be of Diamond, and all was compassed about with a great moat, being of so great deapth, that they thought it to reach to the middest of the earth, and it was almost two hundreth paces broade, and euerie gate had his drawne bridge, all made of boords verie red, which séemed as though they had bene all bathed in bloud, and on the vtter parts of all this, there was a piller of Iasper stone, at the which there hanged a horne, which séemed to bée of a Diamond, all wrought full of pre­cious stones of a strange worke, the which was of great va­lour, and garnished with chaines of gold that were made fast vnto it, whereat hung a Parchment as white as the Snow, wherein was written certaine Gréeke Letters which were all red, and reading of them shée sawe that the wordes were these.

At such time as the great matrone increasing with her excellencie the fame of the Greeke bloud, with a furious sound, that blowing of this horne he shall be accepted with greate contentment of the Aegyptian (but with braiding and reuiling at one time or other.) And giuing hope of that which is certaine, he shall come to inioy of the future time to his perpetuall fame.

Lyrgandeo for to explane the mysterie of this spéech, put in euerie demaund the exposition, declaring what it was, with the title in the Gréeke tongue, and for that the reader maye the better vnderstand it, he hath declared them in the vulgar tongue. So when the excellent Ladie had read it, she stayed [Page 161] to beholde the excellencie of the workmanship of the horne, and the great riches thereof, and taking of it in her hand, she sawe that round about it there were certaine letters, which béeing read, she found to be thus: In sounding of me the gate shall be opened to thee. The which when shee vnderstoode, without anie more carrieng, she tooke that rich horne and set it vnto her mouth, and began to sound it, the which sounde was verie thrill to be heard, she had scarce made an ende of blowing, when that the gate was open. The Quéene when shée sawe it open passed the drawe bridge, and entered with­in the gate into the Pallace, till she came vnto a great open Court, which was compassed about with thrée rowes of ve­rie faire railes, on the which there was leaning on theyr breastes many knightes and Damosells meruailous richly apparelled, who when they sawe her within the court, with greate hast they vanished awaie. And in the middest of the Court there was a verie fayre trée, whose boughes were spread all abroad, and it was of greate riches, for that the boughes were, some of golde, and others of verie fine siluer, and enamelled with great subtiltie, and when she approched to it, the better to see the riches, she sawe in the bodie thereof a table which was all of golde, wherein was ingraued this that followeth.

Vnto that Knight, to whom is graunted the entering in­to this sumptuous pallaice, if it be so that thou hast so much prowesse as to breake one of the braunches of golde which is vpon this tree, then hast thou made an ende and fullye con­cluded all that which thou seest heere: but if thou cannest not obtaine to breake it, then layeng holde vppon that which is of Siluer, and if by thy prowesse thou doest breake that, it shall bee a token, that hee which shall conclude this aduenture is alreadie borne: and if it bee so, that thy sorce and strength is insufficient to doo either of those, then thou shalt bee throwen from it lyke a vile and naughtie per­son.

When she had read this ingraued superscription, with­out anie more tarrying, but euen on horse backe as she was, [Page] she drew nigh vnto the golden boughes, and presently layd [...] holde vpon one of them, with so much strength that she bow­ed it downe vnto the bodie of the tree, but all her labour was in vaine, for that they who shoulde conclude this enterprise, ought to bee a man and not a woman. And while she perse­uered in this her purpose, shée hearde a voyce which sayde: Wo bee vnto mee, wherfore doo you in this manner so greatly torment me, let not the coueting of this bough ouercome thée: let all this euill suffice thée which thou hast béen the occasion of to mée. For perswade thy selfe it shall not profit thée any thing. Beholde I am Alpatrafio the vnfortunate Emperour of Aegypt, who for that I was murtherer vnto my owne daughter, I doo suffer héere this torment. This worthye Queene did finde greate alteration in her selfe to heare so la­mentable a voyce, & letting go the braunch out of her hands, shee looked about to sée who it shoulde bée that spake those dolefull wordes, but shée coulde not obtaine to the sight of a­nie one: and for to proue and sée if it woulde againe speake, shee tooke the braunch once more in her hande, and pulled it with double furie and with so greate strength, that almost shee remained hanging by it as shée was on horsebacke, wherein shée got little honour, for that shée did no more then at the first time. So shée stayed to heare what the voyce woulde saye, which vttered this spéech: O gréedie Knight, why doest thou contend in such vnsatiable couetousnesse, what dost thou thinke that this siluer is not a sufficient trea­sure? Héere I giue thée to vnderstand that thy mallice shall not haue so much strength for to atchieue to the ende of that which the bodie of the trée hath declared vnto thée. Therefore get thée hence, and let me alone with this my sorrowfull ad­uenture, for that there bée manie more besides thy selfe which doe torment me, and let this content thée, that by thy arme I am all bathed in bloud. This valyaunt Quéene who was attendaunt vnto all that was spoken, shée did perceiue that the sounde of the voyce came foorth of the bodye of the trée, and not beeing then cer [...]ified who that shoulde be which [Page 162] spake, she asked, Who art thou, that in so monstrous a fi­gure hast requested mée to haue compassion? Thou shalt vn­derstand, that by prouing at thy braunch, I well hoped to haue made an ende of this inchauntment, but this braunch of golde hath resisted mée verie much, therefore I will prooue this other which is of siluer, and without tarrying to heare her aunswere, shée layde holde on the braunch with so great furie, that shée tore it off from the trée, the braunch remay­ning in her hands: and out of the place from whence it was torne, there issued out a streme of bloud, that all to be sprink­led the Quéenes▪ armour, in such sorte, that it neuer lost the coulour, and when she had torne it awaye shee heard the voyce with a lamentable crie to saie: O Knight, the cause of my greate affliction: O mercilesse man, that without pittie hast thus wounded me? What did mooue thee so cruelly to teare off these my sorrowfull white haires, leauing me all to be bathed in my redde bloud, make an ende to kill me with thy cruell swoorde, for that by death I shall finish the suf­fering of these cruell tormentes which I passe heere, and in so dooing I will take thee for pittifull: O cruell Knight, make an ende of this worke which thou hast begunne, and giue me heere the death. This disquie [...]ed Queene aunswe­red.

I doe not determine to doe anie such thing, but rather if thou deseruest this torment, suffer it contentedly, till such time as thy aduenture come to conclusion. And so without tarrying anie longer to heare an aunswere, shee went to­wardes a doore which stoode wide open on the one side of the Court, and comming thether, immediatly she sawe that there was a payre of stayres, and the steppes thereof went tour­ning vpwardes lyke vnto a Snaile, and with the greate de­ [...]ire that she had to knowe whether it went, she alyghted forthwith from her horse, and went vp the stayres, which brought her into a verie greate and large hall, whereas shee did beholde on both sides much people, who altogether made a greate and sorrowfull lamentation, and comming nigh vn­to them to see what was the occasion of their heauynesse, [Page] she sawe layd along vpon a blacke Carpet two dead knights well proportioned and of greate beautie, and going more née­rer to sée if shee coulde knowe them, shée knewe straight one of them to be the Empresse Claridiana, but the other shée did not knowe, for that shee hadde neuer seene him, but by the la­mentable words which were spoken by an Emperour which was at the head of them, shee vnderstoode that it shoulde bée the knight of the Sunne, and he which made that greate lamentation was the Emperour his Father, at the which shée remained greatly amazed, and hearkening vnto that which the Emperour sayde, shée hearde that he complained on Fortune, saying: Oh fortune that hath so persecuted me: Oh my sonne Alfebo, flowre of all chiualrie, is it possible that there was so much power and strength in the people of Africa that they haue depriued thée of thy lyfe, and giuen thy bodye to rest on the colde earth: With no lesse com­plaint this excellent Queene did celebrate that of the Empe­rour. And if at that present she had seene, that which after­warde she did see, (as shall be tolde you in the third booke of this historie) much more she woulde haue complained. Then she went vnto the other side of the hall to knowe the occasion of that grieuous complaint, she saw likewise y^t they mourned ouer other two knights, & plainely she did know one of them to be Rosicleer, but the other she did not know for that it was the king Sacridoro, whom she had neuer seene, for at such time as the queene came to Grecia, he was gone to his owne kingdome to take his ease, and the chiefe of those which did lament & mourne ouer Rosicleer, she knew to be his mother the Empresse of Grecia, who with deadly griefe and anguish sayd: Oh my sonne, the cause of all this my bitter torment, thou my sonne art in continuall rest, and hast left thy sorrow­full mother in continuall lamentation: Oh wounded heart, what sorrowfull and bitter dayes shalt thou passe without a­nie contentment: ah my Rosicleer, wherefore w [...]rt thou so cruel that thou wouldest not call me thy sorrowfull mother, that in this t [...]aunce she might haue borne thee companie. The valiaunt Queene felt no lesse sorrowe and griefe to see [Page 163] this second companie, then at the sight of the first, but the la­mentable and sorrowful words which the Empresse vttered did moue her to beare her companie, if that at that time shée had not séene come forth at a doore which was in the hall, a Ladie, séeming to bée of great authoritie, accompanyed with two faire Nymphs, all apparelled in russet Satten, pinked & cut, and lined with gréene Satten, which coulours were ve­rie pleasant, and greatly delighted the sight. And when shée came nigh vnto the quéene she sayd: Knight, whosoeuer thou art, and doest shew thy selfe to be so furious, why doest thou hearken and giue eare vnto this lamentation: tell mée out of hande, without anie farther delaie who thou art, & where­fore thou commest hether, for that thou shalt vnderstand that this place is prohibited to all knightes, except he first bring with him some signe or token of the braunch of y^e trée, wher­as he who was murtherer to his owne daughter is inchan­ted: so y^t if it hath ben thy fortune to atchieue y^e cutting either of the braunch of gold or siluer, shew it me forthwith, if not, vnderstand that thou shalt die a terrible death. This worthie Quéene who with a sober countenaunce gaue▪ eare vnto the sayings of the Ladie, and beholding much her great sobrietie: likewise the beautie of those which bare her companie, held vp the braunch of siluer in her hande, and with a high voyce she sayd: Ladie, I woulde not haue ben so bolde to haue ap­proched hether, except I had brought with me the token which you speake off: therefore I ought not to incurre the paine prouided, beholde is this it which you sée, and therwith shée shewed her braunch. The Ladie when she knew that to be the braunch of the trée that she spake of, did abate her an­ger that she before had, and shewed a merrie countenaunce, and taking her right hand from the shoulder of the Nymph, she laide holde on the armed hand of the quéene, and holding it verie fast, she sayd: Excellent Ladie, many dayes past I was giuen to vnderstand of thy great worthinesse, and that thou shouldest giue some contentment vnto y^e afflicted hearts, wherefore come with me and I will shew thée my habitati­on, for that vnto thée the sight hath bene graunted, and not [Page] vnto anie other: come on Ladie and reioyce the selfe in the sight of that which héereafter shall come to passe, without all doubt. And in saying these wordes she carried her in at the same doore whereas shée came forth in great hast, for that shée did knowe the tendernesse of her heart which was moo­ued by the lamentation shée heard, and there shewed vnto her greate riches and verie faire buildinges, but especiallye shée carryed her into a verie faire and foure square Court, which had at euerie corner foure pillers, and vpon the toppe of ey­ther of them an Image, meruailously wrought, and euerie one of them had his title written what it did signifie, and shée tolde her that those which shée had shewed her, were kings and Princes, and famous Lordes, that were there in­chaunted. And how that all that should be made frustrate by one of the best knightes in all the world, who shall bring for his deuice blased on his shéelde, a braunch of golde, sig­nifieng the same which she sawe in the first Court, in the which was inchaunted the Emperour of Aegypt. Likewise he shall deliuer the daughter of the sayd Emperour, whome hée supposeth he hath murthered, and shée was the fayrest Damosell in the whole world. And for that in the end of the third booke of this historie shall be declared the rest, where you shall receiue more contentment in the reading: Lyrgan­deo will now goe no farther héerein. And telling vnto her these and many other thinges, they went farther, and passed through verie manie and fayre halls, the which were ador­ned with the stories of the notable actes of worthie knights, but in one hall, in the middest of a Cloth, shée sawe the Pic­ture of a knight of a greate stature, who was nine foote in height, and armed with Purple armour, and his shéelde of the same coulour, without hauing anie deuice, and his face was verie fayre. The Quéene coulde not by any meanes, but by sight thereof staie a while and beholde his greate beautie, and felt within her heart a new and strange wrast­ling of loue, which tourned afterwarde into an amorous fire. This Ladie did well perceiue her newe imaginations, and with a gracious smiling shée tooke her by the hande, and [Page 164] carried her out of that Chamber, (although shée coulde not bring her out of her newe conceit) shée went out so troubled, that all which the Ladie shewed her afterwardes, shée little respected, and when she thought least shée found her selfe out of the Pallaice, betweene the déepe Moate, and the fayre and rich walles, euen as one that had béene newe awaked out of his sléepe, and tourning her selfe vnto the Ladie, dissembling her newe paine she sayde. Ladie, I dooe not desire héere to haue gotten more honour, then in that I haue obtayned the knowledge and secreate of so notable a thing as this which you haue discouered vnto mée, and more to haue atchieued the desert of this braunch, so that by you it be graunted that I maye carrye it with mée. So the Ladie tooke the siluer braunch in her hande, and made it verie small, to the big­nesse of a s [...]anne in length, and put it vppon her healme, and made it so fast and firme, as though it had bene wrought in by force of workmanshippe, and made it to extend the sil­uer leaues on the one side and on the other with great subtil­t [...]e, that it was a thing to be wondered at. And when she had done this, she sayd.

Worthie and fayre Ladie, the braunch is yours, for that you haue wonne it, and in token of thy desert thou doest car­rie it vpon thy healme, where it shall remaine till such time as by the hands of a fierce Lyon it shall be throwen downe, leauing his heart wounded, and he remaining vnto thée sub­mitted. And for to do [...] thée pleasure Ladie, héere I doe pre­sent thée these two Nymphes for to bée at thy commaunde­ment, And so taking her by the hande, without anie more communication shée brought her ouer the bridge to the other side of the Moat, they were not so soone ouer when this La­die did vanish awaie lyk [...] the winde, and the Bridge was drawen vp, and shée heard within the pallaice a celestiall mu­sicke, and looking that waye whereas shée founded the horne, and towardes that gate wherein she had entered, shée sawe vppon the pillar that was there a Nymph of golde, which seemed to bée verie subtillye wrought. And present­ly without anie more tarrying she leapt vppon her horse, [Page] which was brought thether for her, likewise the two Nimphes vpon two white Palfraies, which was likewise brought for them, and so they tooke their waye towards the sea, without any remembraunce of all that which shée had séene, neither did she thinke of it, till such time as she didde sée the perfect figure of that Knight, which she sawe in y^e hal, as shall be tolde you héerafter. So in great hast this quéene and her Nimphes trauayled till they were all imbarked in their Barke, whereas they found in the one part thereof ve­ry rich roa [...]es. The making and fashion of them, and all the rest that happened shall be tolde you, when time serueth: and let vs now returne vnto the rest [...]ng of the kingdome of Lira, which cost the Prince Brandimardo full déere.

¶How the famous Rosicle [...] and Brandimardo went to the kingdome of [...]ara, and of all that had passed in the battaile they had with the Giaunts. Cap. 29.

YOu doo well remember, how that the worthy Rosicleer, and that gallant and newe Louer Brandimardo, trauayled by sea, towards the kingdome of Lira, to make battaile with the Gyants, that had vsurped the kingdome. The time & winde was so prosperous vnto them, that in a short space they arriued, & toke land in the hauen of the great citie of Lira, without any contradiction. And when they were a lande, they determined to sende a Page to de­maund safeconduct of the Giants, giuing them to vnderstand of their comming. This gallant louer would néedes be the messenger, and therewith mounting vpon a very faire horse, he entered into the Citie, and stayed not till he came vnto the Pallayce of the Gyants, but went asking where there a­biding was. And strayght way they were giuen to vnder­stande thereof by a Knight, which sayde, that there was a strange knight which did demaund after them, & comming before them, without showing anye humilitie or stooping downe his head, he sayd▪ Giants, ther are two knights come [Page] into the hauen of Lira, to defend the right of the Quéene Ar­chisilora, and they doe send vnto you to aske safeconducte, for that they may not be disturbed by any person in these kingdomes but only your selues, who doo pretend by might to make you to acknowledge your euill and naughtinesse. Then Mandroco, who had lesse patience then the other, said. I doe not know wherefore these vnfortunate knights will occupy themselues in profering to defend that, which manye other would haue done, and yet were neuer able. Goe thy wayes, and tell them that they make no tarying to come and receiue their death. Brandimatdo, who well behelde theyr fierce disposition, sawe that it was no time to spend wordes in wast, but to put in practise the execution of y^t, which they came for, and without any replying vnto their words, he re­turned vnto the place whereas he lefte the Prince, vnto whom he declared all that had past. So without any more a doe Rosicleer leaped vpon his mightie horse, and they lace [...] and made fast their helmes, and hanged their shieldes about their neckes, and tooke each of them a great speare in theyr hands, and put themselues into the Citie, and rested not till they came into the broad place, which was right against the Pallayce. Their comming thether was at such time as Bul­far and Mandroco came forth of the Pallaice, all ready and prepared for the battaile, and brought in their companye a great number of Knights. At that time the place was very full of people, who desired secretly in their hearts, that the straunge Knights might winne the victory, that they might be cleare and at libertie from that great subiection, in the which the Gyaunts helde them: the which they thought to be almost impossible, considering the great worthinesse and strength that was in the giants. And when they wer altoge­ther in y^e place, Mandroco with a milde voice sayd: Miserable knights, at such time as you offred your persōs vnto y^e quéene Archisilora, with whom did you thinke to haue battaile, that you gaue credite, supposing your selues to haue sufficient force to execute your wils. Wherfore if you doo now thinke your selues deceiued, we shall be héere content to set you [Page] at libertie of your former promise, with condition that you shall goe and tell her, that she ought to send Knghts of great prowesse and strength, and not such as you are. Then Ro­sicleer sayd, Thou art very much deceiued Giant, in y^t thou saist, for we did very well knowe with whome we shoulde haue battayle, and were fully informed thereof, and purpose to take the head from thy body, in satisfaction of these trea­sons which thou dost vse. The anger and yre of the Giant was such, that without any more tarrying, with great fury he turned about his horse, and his father did the like, y^e two Knights also did the same. And when they were right the one against the other, at the sound of sundry instruments of warres, they ranne the one against the other, in such sorte, that not one of them missed his blowe, but made the shiuers of the speares to flye in very small péeces in the aire, with­out receiuing any griefe. So they altogether returned with their swords in their handes. Rosicleer encountered with Bulfar, for that he found him next at hand, and pressing vn­to him, he stroke at him very great and heauie blowes, and the Gyant rendered him the like. With no lesse furie pressed Brandimardo against his enimie, making a very furious & well foughten battaile. At this time, the fierce Bulfar séeing the great resistance of his aduersarie, threw his shéeld at his backe, and his sonne Mandroco did the like, & both together they stroke such blowes at the knights, that without féeling it caused the horse of Rosicleer to giue a tourne in the place, and the like happened vnto Brandimardo ▪ Héere his vnhap­py fortune would, that his horse should carrie him thether, whereas Bulfar was, who assailed him at his ease on y^t one side, and stroke at him with both his hands such an vnmer­cifull blowe, that lighting vpon his helme, which was néere hand as hard as a Diamond he cut it ioyntly with his head, and being very sore hurt this vnhappie Knight fell downe to the ground, at such time as the Prince was setling him­selfe vpon his horse, & séeing Brandimardo downe, & so much bloud running from his head, he did verely beléeue that hée was dead. Wherewith his rage was so much, that the fire [Page 166] came forth at his visor, and setting spurres to his mightye horse, he made him to mooue like the winde, and said with a loude voyce.

O vile beastes, that so villanously haue slaine him, who is more worth then both of you. Héere I doo sweare vnto you by the liuing God to force my power in such sort, that onely w^c two blowes I will send you vnto hell, which is your habitation, & therwith he came vnto Mandroco, who likewise came towards him, & stroke him such a blow vpon the helme, that the strength thereof little profited him, for by the fury of his arme he parted it in two péeces together w^t the head, so that the Giant fell down dead to the ground, & by reason of his great wayght, y^e fall séemed almost to shake the earth. The Gyant Bulfar when he sawe his sonne dead, with so desperate a blow, roaring out against his Gods, he lifte by his sword to strike the Prince: but he, who had as much pollicie as prowes, spurred his horse a litle forwards, & with a furious leape he cleared himselfe from that blow, and finding himselfe on the lefte side of Bulfar, he threw at him so terrible a foyne, that his harnesse deceiued him, and his sword entered into his body vp to the hilts, and at the pulling of his sword out, he drew out therewith his infer­nall soule, and he fell downe dead to the grounde. Then when the people sawe the good successe that their desires had, they began to crye out with mightie voyces, saying: Li­bertie, Libertie, and ranne vnto the Prince, some kissing his handes, some his skirtes of Maile, and some his féete, in such sorte they pressed on him that he coulde scantly stirre himselfe, but by reason of the greate griefe and sorrowe which he had for his friend Brandimardo, who coulde not receiue anie pleasure at all in this high and mightie victory: and without any care thereof, he alighted from his horse, and went vnto him, and tooke off his healme, and lif [...]ng vp his head vppon his knées, he called for a linnen cloath, the which was strayght wayes giuen him, where­with he wiped and made cleane his face which was of a wanne colour.

[Page]Then this weake knight somewhat lifting vp his eyes, and séeing himselfe in the armes of Rosicleer, and vnderstanding that the battaile was finished, to the honour of his Lady and mistresse, with a féeble & fainting voice he sayd: Ah my Lord, and perfect friend, héere may you sée how contrarie fortune hath bene vnto me, in that she woulde not consent that I shuld reioyce in y^e triumph of this victorie: it doth not gréeue me to die, for that it is in defending the right of her whom I best loued. There is nothing that doth gréeue me so much, as that I cannot obtaine the reward I looked for. Héere I do desire thee my Lord, that by you she may vnderstand of all this my paine: and doe my heartie commendations vnto that my great desired Archi. Héere he could not make an ende to speake her name, but yéelded vp the Ghoast, his vnfortunate bodie remaining in the armes of the Prince, and with great wéeping he turned vnto the people that were there, and sayd. O you knights and Gentlemen of Lyra, how déerely is this your libertie bought, for in the recouerie thereof was slaine the best knight in all Asia. Then he séeing that there was no remedie for the harme that was done, he commaunded that hée should be carryed vnto the pallaice, and by the agréement of all the nobles he was buried in that place whereas the kings of Lyra were accustomed to be buried. So when Ro­sicleer had séene the funerall of his friend, he would staie no longer in that kingdome, but by the consent of all that were present, he left the gouernement in the power of a worthie knight and noble gentleman of the realme, and tooke his oth that straight waie they should surrender it to their quéene & Ladie. And therewith he departed out of the Citie, & when he came vnto the water side, and woulde haue entered into the ship in the which he came, he sawe nigh vnto it the barks wherein he was wont to trauaile, and considering y^t it should not be there without occasion, without anie more deliberati­on he entered into the same, who straight waie beganne to moue her selfe with her accustomed furie, and so without tarrying in anie place, he trauailed sixe dayes & sixe nightes, in the end of y^t which the Barke brought her selfe a ground [Page 167] into a faire wide and sandie Baie, whereas he sawe vppon the shoare manie knightes which made battaile against one alone knight. The Prince seeing all that passed, with great anger he went out of the Barke to helpe him, who with great courage and pollicie did defend himselfe, whereas now we will leaue them, and retourne vnto Grecia for to make an ende of our first part. You doe well remember how that the knight with the Emperiall head, when he sawe himselfe cleere of that blow which the Queene of Lyra gaue him, put himselfe into the forrest, euen vnto the t [...]ickest of it, and did not determine to goe to the Court at Constantinople, about a certaine demaund which he came to make, till such time as all y^e knights and the rest of the people were in quiet. When he thought that it was time, he went vnto the Court and as­ked for the Emperours pallace, when he came thether, he a­lighted from his horse and went vp into the great hall wher­as the Emperour was, with all them of his Court, exercising courtly pastimes and pleasures, and without making anye reuerence hee went vnto the place whereas the Emperour was, and he sayd: Good and noble Emperour of Grecia, this speake I for a truth (according vnto that which I haue heard reported of thée) that thou art one of those Princes that doth maintaine all iustice and equitie. The subiects and vassalls doe not alone make this report, but all the world is ful of it. And (as I vnderstand) although it be euen against thy owne person, yet thou wilt not let to doe that which is right, iustice being demaunded of thée, wherfore I doubt not but vnto me shall be graunted lisence héere in thy Countrie to put a de­maund vnto whom it shall thinke me best, certifieng thée that it shall be a iust thing. The Emperour who knew him by the deuice that he had on his shéeld, that it was he which made the battaile with the Quéene of Lyra, with a sober countenaunce he sayd: Knight, although my fame be not such as you haue héere published, yet demanding any of this with equitie (as you doe certifie me you will) I cannot but graunt it vnto thée. And therefore héere I doe giue thée lisence that thou maist propone all that thy pleasure is, although it be a­gainst [Page] my selfe. The Knight who was very attendaunt to all that the Emperour sayd, and saw that license was gran­ted him to aske at his pleasure, he sayd. O mightie Prince I would to God that my demaund were not that which it is, that without it I might inioye and comfort my selfe in beeing in your company, and the more that I doo certifie my selfe of thy vertue, I doo finde my selfe the more troubled, meruailing, how that in so noble a person, should remaine so great naughtinesse, as that which thou didst vse with the Quéene of Tinacria, who comforting & refreshing thée, when thou arriuedst there in great pouertie and distresse, in the ende, thou didst leaue her very sorrowfull and made a mock of her. Looke well vnto it Emperour, for that thou canst not make satisfaction for so great a fault, neyther will shée take any of thée, except it be with sending thy head, I will not that thou makest any amends, but that for her, I doo de­fie thée to mortall battaile, onely thy person and mine toge­ther, that I may fulfill the promise that I haue made vnto her: and if it so fall out that Fortune be to me contrary, I will remaine for the payment of my fullye, with my heade out from my shoulders. And with this he helde his peace: and looking on the one side and on the other, very ioyfull to sée so goodly a company of Knights as was at y^e time with the Emperour, he expected his aunswere. The Emperour who well vnderstoode his reasons, without showing any al­teration in his countenaunce, aunswered. I doo not knowe whether my aunswere shall be sufficient for to excuse the fault, which the Queene without all reason doth burden me with. For the which, valiant Knight, I wold, as the Quéene hath tolde you the little reason that I had, so she shuld haue tolde you the great reason I had to doo that which I did. Héere I doo certefie thée that my thought doth not deserue, that she should be vnto me so cruell, nor extend so farre, for to desire my death. And certainly in this, the Quéene hath no reason, for that the head of Trebatio, maye doo her more seruice liuing, then it can doo being dead: but séeing it is her will. Héere I doo tell thée, that so long as I doo liue, I will [Page 168] practise no other thing but onely to pacifie her, and so lyke­wise will I procure to keepe and defende my head, and not onely mine owne, but also the heads of those which at her commaundement doo come, thinking to take away mine: & in this she shal vnderstand how much I am desirous to serue her. The battaile heere I doe graunt it vnto thee, and if thou wilt, let it be out of hand, and heere I doe promise thee Knight to procure to ke [...]pe my head, and likewise to keepe thine. Oh how the Moore found himselfe troubled, when hee heard the Emperours answere, and the little reckoning that he made of the battaile, and somewhat touched in pride, hee replyed and sayd. I know well Emperour, that the greate cōfidence which thou hast in thy self, maketh thee to esteeme little of the King of the Garamantes whom thou hast in thy presence: but I doe hope and trust in Mahomet, that before one hower when we are in the field, to make thee to lose thy confidence. And in saying these words, he went downe out of the Pallaice, and leapt vp vpon his horse, and went into the fielde, which was right agaynst the Pallaice, ordayned for such like occasions. The Emperour demaunded for his armour, and called for that with the starres, the same which the Queene Garrofilea gaue him. So in a trice he was ar­med, not without many teares of the Empresse, who sayd. Ah my Lord I do well vnderstand, that of so long absence, there can grow nothing but great troubles, as doth appeare by this sodaine battaile. The Emperor not letting her to go forwards with her talke, but casting both his armes about her necke, and with shewe of great loue, he sayd. Thou my Lady and Empresse wert the occasion of all that euill, for if it had not bene onely for the losse of thy sight, I vowe that thy Emperour would first haue dyed the death, then meri­ted the name to be disloyall. And that in not fulfilling her intent, there should not onelye haue happened one euill, but a great number. So it was Gods will that I shuld escape out of the battaile, as more at large I will tell you, ha­uing more leasure. And in this manner hée departed from the Empresse, leauing her verie sadde and sorrowfull. [Page] And the Emperour went to take his horse, carrying with him the king of Lacedemonia, who carryed his healme, and the Prince Claueryndo who carryed his shéeld, & his speare the Prince of Hungaria carryed. And when they went forth of the gates of the Pallaice, they beganne to sound a greate number of instruments, which indured till such time as they were entered into the field, whereas he put on his healme, and the rest of his armour giuen him which those Princes did carrie. So with a gallant demeanour he put himselfe on the one part of the field, awaiting a token or signe that shuld be giuen them. So it was not long after that the Prince Bargandel did sound a Clarion the which he had in his hand, at the sound whereof they ranne one against another with great furie, and in the middest of their course they gaue such incounters with their Speares, not missing of their blowes, but it was with so great force that they brake all to small p [...]eces, and without doing anie harme the one vnto the other they passed along, and straight wayes turned their horses a­bout with their swords in their handes. The Moore when he sawe that the Emperour remained in his saddle, hée was ashamed, for that he did beléeue that onely with one blowe with his Speare to make an end of all that worke, his force and strength was such: And as you doo see a fierce Ly [...]n constraine [...] by hunger to goe out of her caue, and followeth her praie with great desire to fill her paunch, euen so and ra­ther with more furie went this Pagan, & casting his sheeld at his backe, he griped his sword in both his hands, raising himselfe in his stirrops, he str [...]ke such a blowe that whether he would or not, he made the Emperour to fall downe vpon his horse necke▪ and was so without remembraunce that he made his sword fall out of his hands and hang by y^e chaine, and his armes hung so loose as though he had bene dead, and his horse was so afraide that a while he went about the field. The Moore had well thought that the Emperour had bene dead, and stoode still and sayd. Well, I doe beleeue Em­perour that thy promise shall be in vaine, and mine shall fal out true. At that time the Pagan spoke the truth, for that [Page 169] the Emperours promise did not fall out true: so straight way he came againe to himselfe, and saw that he was so ill int [...]a­ted with one blow alone, he turned and recouered his sword with great ire and wrath, he threw his sheeld at his backe, & foamed at the visour of his helme with verie wrath that he had, euen as an arow driuē out of a [...]ow by y^e hands of a Si­rian, so he pressed himselfe vnto the More & sayd: Tarrie thou diuellish Pagan, tarrie, for héere I doo promise thée that by one blow alone I will take awaie thy life, for that thou with one blow didst depriue me of my vnderstanding. And thus my rude pen waxing wearie, and verie desirous to take his ease, as also my hand being gouerned by that Nymph Calio­pe, causeth me to make an end of this first parte, for that in the second part hauing refreshed my selfe and gotten newe courage, I may goe tearing of the skies and the troublesome waues, not resting till I come into those concauits, where as Vulcan doth commaund the Cyclopes hammers for to giue a new aduise vnto this workman which neuer will be wea­rie, and that he be in a readinesse ioyntly with fierce Mars, to assist me to declare the new deeds and acts of knighthood, con­tained in the second booke of this part.

Of the Prince Claridiano, & how the king of Arginaria sent his brother to the king of Taprobana, and of all that hap­pened to the messenger with the Prince. Chap. 1.

AT that time as the warlike Moore, in the su­premacie of his triumph and power, had blased his famous feates of warres, most worthie of memorie▪ and causing that ac­tiue Vulcan (onely for his contentment) shoulde double the Smithly rumour of his [Page] forge, for to animate his artificers with his rough and hastie callings, that they might with more furie moue and strike those restlesse hammers, vpon the laboured and well beaten Anfield. At that time did the mightie & prudent Pallas spread abroade her streamers (with a peaceable blast, holpen by the fresh Fauonio or west winde) ouer the great and renowmed Iland of Trapobana, the heroycall sonne of that renowmed Alfebo, or knight of the Sunne, nephew vnto the magnani­mous Emperour Trebatio, being in the same (as it was told you in the first part of this historie) who was nourished and brought vp vnder the power of the king Delfo, excelling in all beautie and fayrenesse, so much as euer nature bestowed on anie humane creature, there lacked nothing in him but onely the knowledge of Iesus Christ, for in that hée was brought vp amongest Pagans he knew him not. Hée was so indued with vertue and mightinesse of courage, that the wise Lyrgandeo thought it best to holde his peace and to bée in quiet, referring himselfe vnto his workes, as in the pro­cesse heereof you shall vnderstand, therefore he will saie little at this time, but onely he was one that God had indued with many graces and good gifts, that the Pagans did account him to be one of their Gods. The king Delfo did make so much of him, that he woulde not at anie time let him departe one minute from him. He brought him vp with greate maiestie vntill he came to fouretéene yéeres of age, and at that time whosoeuer had looked on him, wold haue iudged him to haue ben of more yéeres (according vnto the high stature of his bo­die,) for there was no knight, although he had bene a gyant, that could be equall with him, not only in his height, but al­so he was so well set and knit, & double membred, conforma­ble. At which time this great Giant vsurper of y^e great Argi­naria (when he sawe himselfe so mightie a Lord) his pride so much increased, that he was not consent with that Ilande which with so great peace & quietnesse he did possesse, but co­ [...]e [...]snesse increased so much in him, that he likewise would be Lord & ruler ouer other kings & Princes, whose countries were adiacent, wherfore he determined [...] take into his pow­er [Page 170] the Iland of Trapobana, & had no sooner thought thereon, when straight waies he woulde put his desire in practise, ta­king for his quarrell y^t he had denied their tribute which they were wont to pay him, and so without anie more counsell he commaunded to call vnto him a brother of his, a mightie gi­ant (although nothing so strong as he himselfe,) and when hee came before him, with a proude and terrible voice, and with a great maiestie he sayd: Bruno, take vnto thée two galleyes, & let them be meruailously well furnished, & go thou by force of winde, smiting the sailes, & likewise by good gouernment that they may make the better diligence for thy nauegation, being holpen w^t those knottie oares, to cut by force those deep waters, not taking anie rest, till such time as thou art a land at Trapobana, or wheresoeuer the king Delfo is, vnto whom without anie humilitie thou shalt say from me: That seeing his hardinesse hath bene such, to denie me that which the Gods (if they did reigne or dwell on the earth) were bound [...]o giue me, if he doe not now send it me with a new confirma­tion of his subiection, that by the omnipotent Iupiter I doe sweare, to giue him such correction, that when it is hearde throughout the worlde, they shall all tremble & shake. This Pagan and youthfull gyant without anie more tarrieng pre­pared for this his departure. Of all this that had past was Galtenor aduertised by his learning, & hauing wel vnderstood the whole secret, it moued him in great hast to cause a cloud to descend out of the aire, into the which he did put himselfe, wherein he was carried in verie short time to the Citie of Trapobana, and without giuing knowledge to anie person he went vp into the kings Pallaice, whereas he founde the king and the Prince walking vp and downe in the hall, tal­king of matters of pleasure, who with the good entering of Galtenor hadde their ioye and delight doubled. The king shewing greate mirth and pleasure, did aske him, saying: What is the occasion of this your comming, my good friend, vnthought or vnlooked for, it cannot be without some newe and straunge thing. In the meane time whilest the King was speaking these and such lyke wordes, [Page] Galtenor had the Prince in his armes, who receiued such ioy to see his great beautie, fayre bodie, and good disposition, that [...]ee was blinded therewith, and hauing the Prince Claridia­no in his armes, he forgot himselfe that hee was before the king, and the king seeing him in that traunce, procured to take him out of his armes, then he lyke a man awaking out of a slumber, retourned vnto the king and sayde. Most migh­tie Lord, the great contentment that I do receiue at the sight of this young man, hath caused me to forget to bee in thy pre­sence, and I did occupie my senses in such sort, that I coulde not doe that which I am bound by duetie to do. O king thou maist account thy selfe for happie, for that thou hast obtained so much fauour, as to bring vp so gentle a youth, worthie to be had in as much reuerence as the mightie Iupiter, and tur­ning vnto the king he sayd: There commeth a messenger frō Arginaria, with a message nothing profitable, therefore good king, it doth stand you in hand for to make in a readinesse all your power, and to suffer the furious warre that is ordei­ned against you. Heere my Lorde, I doe certifie thee, that it had bene the more to haue bene feared, if thou haddest found thy selfe without this young man in thy companie, who is the flower of all men. The king when he heard these newes could not but receiue some alteration, and it was in such sort, that he was constrained to sit downe to talke with Galte­nor, and sayd: I sweare by God my friend, séeing it is so, let your discreation remedie that, which mine is not able to comprehend, that wee fall not into the power of so cruell an enimie. Claridiano who was verie attentiue vnto that which Galtenor had tolde vnto the king, and lykewise vnto the an­swere which y^e king made, kneeled downe on both his knées, and with greate humilitie hée desired the king to graunt him two things, the which he wold aske, the which the king by the counsell of Galtenor did graunt, and did lift him vp from the grounde imbrasing him verie louingly. The Prince Claridiano s [...]eing that he had graunted it him, hée sayde. My Lorde, the first thing that you shall dooe for mee, is, that you giue vnto mée forthwith the order of knighthoode. [Page 171] and the second is, that you doo giue me license to answere the messenger of Arginaria. It grieued the King very much, for that he had graunted him these two things, for that he did well vnderstand his intent: but séeing that he could doo no otherwise, he was content. Great pleasure receiued Galte­nor, to sée with what good grace, Claridiano did aske these two things of the king, and for to put away part of that dis­contentment which they shoulde receiue at the messengers hand, he tolde vnto them some pleasaunt and ioyfull deuices. So straight way it was accorded, that Claridiano shoulde that night watch his armour, the which was giuen him by Galtenor. They were all white, and bespangled with twin­kling starres of golde, and his shield was also all white, and in it one onely Luzero, which did occupie all y^e whole shield, all garnished with fine pearles, that it made them that did looke on it, almost to lose their sight, the brightnesse was so great that procéeded from them, and they were such, that no Lorde in all the worlde had the like. When this famous youth was armed with them, the delight was so much, that the king Delfo receiued to sée him so well set and so gallant, that he could not refrayne but distill some salt teares from his eyes for very ioye, and sayd. My brother héere I doo desire the soueraigne Gods, that they make me so ioyful with thy good fortune, as I am now at thy sight. The prince did watch his armour that night, and the next daye with great solemnitie, he was armed Knight, and gaue that daye many and great gifts. In the afternoone was ordained great Iustings and daunces of all sorts, of very faire Ladyes and damosells, which the King had commaunded to come toge­ther for the same effect. But they who did most participate of all these pleasures and pastimes, was the heroycal young man, and his nourse, whom he tooke to be his mother. So that in the Kings Pallaice, there was no other thing but feasts and pastimes, tarrying for the Embassadour that shuld come: and they of the Citie had care in the fortifieng of the same, as well with victualls, as repayring the wals, and putting all the people in good order, in such sorte, that [Page] within eight dayes they found within the Citie tenne thou­sand Knights, meruailously well appointed, at the which Cla­ridiano did receiue greate contentment. The ninth daie af­ter that hée was made knight, there was brought newes how that the messenger of Arginaria was come a lande: of the which the king béeing aduertised, hée sate himselfe in his royall seate abiding his comming, beeing accompanied with verie rich and well estéemed knightes, and on his ryght hand was Claridiano, and on his lefte hande the banished King of Arginaria, and béeing all in this manner as hath béene tolde you, the Embassadour Bruno entered into the hall, with a furious countenaunce, and without humbling or making anie kinde of reuerence, he drew nigh vnto the king, and with a wrathfull voyce he sayde: King, what diuell was that which put it in thy head, to denie that tribute that thou wert wont to giue vnto my mightie brother, and thou doest not onely denie it, but I sée that thou makest thy selfe in a readinesse to make resistaunce, for the which héere I doe tell thée, that there is no punishment that can make satisfaction of thy boldnes and follie, notwithstanding if thou wilt cléere thy selfe better then thy ouermuch pride doeth deserue, giue mée straight waye double tribute, of that which thou art bounde to paie, but if thou doest it not, by the mightie Gods I sweare to thée, that he will take of thée and thine reuenge­ment, with such rigor, that the mightie Gods shall tremble when they sée it. All this he spake with so greate pride and wrath, that it made them all to quake to sée his furious de­meanour, saue onely he to whome all the honour of Knight­hoode belonged, who did little estéeme his vnreasonable and proude wordes, but with greate sobrietie he aunswered. They dooe not denie anie thing which they ought for to giue vnto this tyraunt whome thou doest name for thy Brother, and although he did loose the Ilande that he doeth nowe pos­sesse, yet shoulde hée loose nothing that hath bene his, for that with tyrannie hée hath vsurped the same. Therefore with­out anie more tarrying, get thée hence and tell thy brother, that the king of Trapobana wil not onely detaine from him [Page 172] the tribute which hée doth not nor neuer did owe him, but also with armed arme he doth pretend to recouer againe all that which without reason he hath receiued & carried awaie, and he doth giue him to vnderstand, that hée will not rest till such time as he doth thrust him out of y^e Iland, which with so great tyrannie he doth possesse, & from which he depriued my father Galtenor. So w^t this answere thou maist returne vnto him who sent thée hether, w^tout anie hope of other. The giant stood & did behold him very much, & with a fearful coun­tenance his eies turned into a sanguin coulour, & laughing or smiling in manner of mocking, he said: I sée without anie outward proofe, but onely by thy foolish wordes, that thou art but a young and new made knight, & as such a one I wil est­éeme & intreate thée: & if my comming hether were not more for a messenger, then for a warriour, for this thy boldnesse which thou dost shew, I would vse thée in such sort, y^t thy an­swere shuld little auaile thée, & yet I should remaine satisfied of all y^e anger which thou hast caused me to haue. The prince Claridiano when he heard that with so great disdaine he was rauiled, with as much anger he went towards him, and with an altered voice he sayd: By all the Gods that are in heauen I sweare vnto thée, if I did not consider & respect the curte­sie which is due and ought to be shewed to Embassadours, I would bereaue thée of this thy brauerie, in such sort, y^t when thou art before such a king as now thou art, thou shouldest bridle thy tongue, & euer after haue in remembraunce y^e pu­nishment y^t I would giue thée, but not respecting thy follie, but onely my estate, I will stay my selfe from correcting of this thy ouermuch pride. The wrath of this Gyant was so much, whē he heard himself so reuiled, y^t he could not by anie meanes refraine himselfe, but layd hand on his sword, and went towards the Prince Claridiano, and threatened him with a very mightie and strong blow, striking at his head. The prince when he saw the blow comming, retired with a light leape, which was y^e occasion y^t he failed of his blowe, & by re [...]son of the great strength wherwith it was stroke, the sword fell out of his hands, and flew along the floore of the [Page] great hall, the Prince without drawing his sworde, with a trice ioyned with him, entering in at his left side, & with his fist he stroke him so strong and mightie a blow vpon y^e mouth that if his hand had ben armed, it had ben the last which the Gyant should haue receiued, yet for all that it did so much harme that his téeth fell out, leauing his mouth all bloudie, & with the great strength of the blow it made him to fall back­wards on his backe, and with the great paine which he felt, he scantly knew where he was. The Prince when hée sawe this, stayed without doing anie more harme, for y^t hée would not disgrace the king, but put himself on the one side: the king did shew himselfe verie much gréeued for y^t he was an Em­bassadour, for if it had not ben done by him which did it, who so euer els should haue done it, would hardly haue escaped w^t ­out punishment. And for to appease y^e messenger he arose out of his seat and did helpe to take vp the Gyaunt, & looking to­ward Claridiano, he sayd: Brother, I would y^t this thing had not chaunced by thy hands, for that all this harme which you haue done vnto Bruno, is done vnto me & not vnto him. Thē this valiant Prince sayd: Hold your peace my Lord, for those v [...]urteous messengers, & such as do digresse & goe from that which they are commaunded, should not alonely be intreated in this sort, but also loose their liues, and haue their tongues cut out. Bruno did complaine him verie much of the griefe, & seeing himselfe without téeth and so dishonoured, he blasphe­med against his Gods, but this inuinsible Gréeke made little account of any such thing, but turned himselfe toward Bruno & sayd: Now maist thou returne in the diuells name, & tel thy brother the Prince of pride, that he doth commaund to plai­ster and cure thy téeth, for that from hence thou goest well cured of thy great folly. Also thou shalt tell him of my parte, that as I haue hurt thée with the strength of my fist, so I will vse him with the sharpe edge of my sworde, gouerned with the selfe same arme that vnto thée hath done this da­mage. And I doe héere hope in such sort to search that proude bodie of his, that all the worlde may take an ensample by him and his pride. Bruno who was at the point of death [Page 173] with the great paine he felt, vnderstood all that was spoken, and without making anie aunswere, hee went out of the kings Pallaice, and returned vnto his Galleyes where hée was cured, and put his Sailes into the power of the winde, and in a verie short time he ariued at Arginaria, and went a shoare, carrying all his face wrapt and bound with bondes and rowles of linnen cloth, and his mouth all to be plaistred. In this sorte he went and presented himselfe before his bro­ther, and sayd: I haue giuen thy Embassage vnto king Del­fo, as thou hast commaunded me, and to giue me aunswere there arose vp a new and young knight, whom I doe beleeue and as I haue proued the same, that he hath in his bodie all the infernall strength, and in his fistes all the Legyons of di­uells that are in hell, as it did appeare by the greate furye wherewith he hurt mée, that he did not onely strike out my téeth, but also threw me to the ground as though I had bene a child. This proud Gyant the king of Arginaria, when hée heard all that his brother had sayd, with a terrible blaring & noise (that he made all the Pallaice to shake) sayde: O vile coward, and is it possible that with fistes lyke a vile vilaine he made thée to fall, in such sorte, that thou diddest kisse the ground with thy mouth. Bruno answered: Brother, I dooe sweare vnto thée by the high Iupiter, that if thou hadst pro­ued as I haue done the strength of his [...]istes, thou wouldest not reuile me in this sort. And héere I do giue thée to vnder­stand, that he sayd, and bad me in his parte to tell thée, that if from me he hath taken awaie my fore téeth, that he will not onelye take awaie thine, but also thy double téeth and thy life. But when this Arginarian king heard this, hee arose vp and went from him with so much wrath and anger, that he séemed rather a Diuell then a man: and without taking anie farther counsell, he commaunded to assemble all his peo­ple together, and that they should bée called with all the spéed that possible might bée, and when they were come all toge­ther, he found that there were two thousand horse men, and sixe thousand foote men, & made Captaine generall ouer them two Gyants & brothers, y^t were Lordes of one Iland, ioyning [Page] vnto his Iland, called Bisperia. And he commaunded them to imbarke themselues with great furie, and when they wer all imbarked, he commanded to hoyse vp anker, and to com­mit their sayles vnto the winde, y^t which they found prospe­rous, and brought them vnto the Iland of Trapobana, and without any impediment or disturbaunce of them of the I­land, they went a land, and raised vp their tents, and pitched their campe. This fierce king being mounted vpon an Ele­phant, went with great care and perused all his people, and put them in very good order: so all was apparant and kno­wen vnto them of the Citie. The King of Trapobana fea­red much his fierce and cruell aduersary, and so likewise did many of them that were in the Citie: but yet that coura­gious youth did feare him nothing at all, nor estéemed him any thing, but rather did desire the houre to sée himselfe in battaile with him, for to make satisfaction with his déedes & works, of that which he was in debt vnto his Lord. At such time as the campe was pitched, and all in good order, the ra­diaunt Phoebus had made an ende of his iourney, leauing in his absence the sadde and darke night. So when time cam [...] that he began a new to take his accustomed course, and to show his shining face, dispersing his glittering beames ouer all the Iland, the king of Arginaria called vnto him a trum­petter, and with a furious voyce he sayd. Go thy wayes vn­to the Citie, and in such sort as thou thinkest best salute the king Delfo, and tell him on my behalfe, that without anye tarrying or taking farther counsel, he send me him, who did intreate my brother Bruno so euill: and if not, I sweare vnto him by the high Iupiter, that I will doo so much that his body shall be made meate vnto dogges. The trumpetter when he had well vnderstoode his message, taking libertie of the accustomed pride of his Lord, went with great arrogan­cie vnto the Citie. The Scowtes when they saw him, let enter into the Cite, and they caried him before the King, be­fore whom when he came, without showing any kinde of humilitie he sayd. The Gods confound thy person & state, and breake downe thy great pride & power: y^t dredfull king [Page 174] of Arginaria my Lord, doth send me vnto thée, y^t when thou hast heard my imbassage, forth with thou send vnto him that vncurteous knight and of small valour, who with his proud hand, stroke out the téeth of his welbeloued brother Bruno, and thou must send him prisoner and bound before his roy­all presence, that he may giue him the punishment, that his great boldnesse doth deserue. When this valiaunt Claridia­no heard the proud words that the Embassadour brought, and with what arrogancie he deliuered them, he was alto­gether without patience, and hauing no power to refrayne his wrath, he went vnto him and sayd. Héere I doo promise thée goodman brablor, to giue thée answere according as thou dost bring the imbassage, and it is great reson that we make thy bodye to flye at large, as thou doest cause thy tongue to runne at libertie, and procure out of hand that thou maist the better leape, to call vnto Mercurie for to sustaine thée, & without any more saying, he tooke him by the cholar, & with out any power to make resistaunce, he threw him out of a window, letting him fall vpon the pauement, before the pal­laice gate, that he broke all in péeces, and this being done, without speaking any more word, he went vnto his cham­ber, and armed him with his armour, with the help of Gal­tenor his father, for so he alwayes estéemed him: but his wrath and anger was such, that neither his father nor the King durst speake a word vnto him, all the time he was ar­ming. And when he was armed, he turned his face vnto the king, and said. Worthy king and my Lord, haue a good con­fidence in the Gods, and in thy iustice and right, that I shal be he, that shall take away from before thée, this proud ene­mie of thine. And without any more tarrying he demanded for a borne, so straight way, there was one giuen him of I­uorie very rich, the which he cast about his necke, and de­scended the staires out of the Pallaice, where he found a ve­ry faire & great horse meruailous wel furnished, & lightly he lept on his back, & with a reasonable pace he rode his waye towards y^t campe of his enimie. Galtenor & the good king of Trapobana followed him, being armed w^t very rich armor, [Page] and commaunded that all the people should be in a readi­nes. So they put themselues in a place, whereas they might well sée, all that Claridiano did.

¶How that Claridiano went vnto the campe of the King of Arginaria, and how he demanded of him battaile, and of all that succeeded in the same. Chap. 2.

AS many times the hungrye Lyon doth com­passe and search the foldes roaring with ra­uenish hunger, and finding the strayed Goa [...]e or Hart, discouering them from farre by their hornes, and with a souereigne ioye doth sift vp his necke, & neuer rest vntill such time, as he be musting in their bloud, with great desire to satis­fie his pining hunger: euen so with like desire went out of Trapobana the Prince Claridiano, till he came in sight of his aduersaries, and carried his visour vp, and putting him selfe in place whereas he might be heard of his enimies, hee blew his horne, to giue a token that they shoulde hearken vnto that which he would speake vnto them, and then with a loude voyce he sayd. O [...]ruell and tyrannous King, what dost thou thinke by threatenings to showe thy furie, come forth, and take to thée thy armour, for héere doth tarrye and abide thy comming, he that stroke out the féeth of thy bro­ther Bruno, & he that not long since did teach thy Embassa­dor to speake, whom thou sentest this daye with thy proude message. The dogge Cerberus when he was made fast with Alcides leash, did not shew himselfe so furious, as did, this terrible Giant at that present, and rising vp from the place whereas he was set, he turned vnto the Image of Iupiter, vnto whom he had done great sacrifices, & stretching forth his rigorous arme, he tooke it from the place whereas it was set, and threw it out of the dore of the tent, in such sort that he made it to flye into the aire, more then ten fadome, with which it fell into the sea, and he said. Get thée thether [Page 175] thou God of little valor that being honoured of so valiaunt a man as I am, thou wilt consent that so vile a man (after that he hath angred me so much) should put himselfe with so great pride before my presence. And not content with this, but with the same fury he tooke a great club, and what on the right side, and what on the lefte, he threw downe all the Images of his Gods that were there, and broke them all to péeces. One of the ministers that alwayes did assist them in their sacrifices, sayd with a bolde courage. Wherefore do you so euill intreate and misuse your Gods. The Giaunt stroke him such a blow on the forhead with his fist, that hée broke it all to péeces and threwe him dead to the ground & sayd. Get thée hence, and goe and make relation vnto Iupi­ter, and vnto the rest of the Gods, of this greate repre­hension that thou hast done me. And looking about, he sawe all the rest of the ministers halfe amazed, without speaking any word, vnto whom he went with great hast, and said vn­to them. Uile villaines, what doe you tarry héere, why doe you not go after the figure of that God, whom you do wor­ship and honour, and laying on them with his club, he kil­led sixe of them, and so he would haue done with all the rest if they had not runne away. Then one of the two Giants which were bretheren, came vnto the Kings tent, all armed with his strong armour, & mounted vpon a great Elephant and said. Be in quiet my Lord, and abate this thy vnsuffe­rable anger, and I will bring vnto thée straight waye him, who hath bene the occasion of this thy disquietnesse and an­ger. And without tarrying for any aunswere, he tourned a­bout his great and vnwieldie beast, and went that waye, whereas the Prince was: who when he sawe him so well proportioned and furnished, he had well thought that he had bene the King of Arginaria, as one which had neuer séene a­ny of so mightie a stature, and there with he put down y^e vi­sor of his helme, & tooke vnto him, a great & knottie speare, purposing not to spend the time in words. Then Belero­fonte (for so the Giant was named) sayd. Art thou that bold Knight, that with thy déedes hast so euill angred, that migh­tie [Page] king and Lord of Arginaria. The Prince, who-by his reasons was certified that he was not the King, replyed. I am he whom with so furious yre thou dost séeke, and if it be so that the King hath so much anger against me, where­fore doth he not come forth in person to take reuengement. The Giaunt when he sawe him speake with so bolde a cou­rage, with a dissembling laughter sayd. O foole without all wit, hast thou in so little estimation that great Geredeon, that he for twen [...]e such Knightes as thou art, shoulde arme himselfe, & come forth to battell, hauing them which can ex­cuse him thereof: And séeing that thy great folly is come to this extremitie, I doo require thée (that if thou wilt remayne with thy life) that thou dost leaue thy armour, and yéeld thy selfe with both thy hands bound behinde thée, and goe and aske forgiuenesse of him, that if he will kill thée with his owne hands, thou maist account thy selfe happy. To whom the Prince aunswered, Thy counsell doeth not please m [...], neither his honour will I receiue: but rather I hope to send thée without a tongue before that infernall King, as I sent Bruno without his téeth. And for y^t thou shalt not haue any more time to speake such folly and foolishnesse, eyther retourne the way from whence thou camest, and repent thy selfe of this thou hast sayd, or els prepare thy selfe to mortal battaile. The Giant when he heard that vnsauorye answere which he gaue, he tooke vp his speare and put it on his shol­der, which was made fast in the middest of the staffe Darte wise, and raised himselfe in his stirrops, and threw it at the Prince with so great fary, that by the force therof, he hoped to haue concluded that enterprise. But this new Knight sée­ing the speare comming, he put his shield before him where on the sharpe poynt stroke, & pearced it through, till it came to his fine and strong armour, whereas it lost his force: but with the strength wherewith it came, it bowed in such sort, that it brake in two péeces, without hurting the knight or once mouing him in the saddle. This valiaunt and stoute Greeke, when he saw that in that sort he would haue slaine him, he clasped fast his speare in his hande after the same [Page 176] manner, and said. Tarrie and thou shalt sée, whether I can better throw a dart then thou? And therewith he threwe his great speare at the Giant, that without hauing anye power to defend himselfe from that blowe it pearced his shield, and bored through his armour, and not staieng there, the sharpe poynt passed through his body from the one side to the other taking from him that miserable s [...]ule, and the body gaue a terrible fall to the grounde. At all that passed, was present the proud & strong Geredeon, who with an infernall wrath threw fire from him, and in great hast called for his armor: at which time the other giant, brother vnto Belorophonte, no lesse irefull and furious, whose name was Bolifo, sayde with a great voyce. Mightie Geredeon, and Lorde, let me take this reuengement, for y^t of right it appertaineth more vnto me, then vnto thée. And heere I dooe promise thée (or els the Gods shall be false in dooing iustice, and my strong arme without vertue) that I will take cruell reuengement of that diuell: and so without speaking moe wordes, he went towards the place wheras this new knight was, who without any feare with a great speare in his hand, did tar­rie his comming. This Giant who was blinded with his vnreasonable anger without any reasoning, he set spurs vn­to his Elephant, and likewise, the new knight set spurres to his horse, and met together in the middest of their course, so that neither of them lost his blowe: but the incounter was with so great force, that the Gyant did pearce through the shéeld of the Prince, without doing anie other harme, & the speare shiuered all to péeces, but this warlike youth with his speare gaue vnto y^e gyant so strong an incounter, y^t it per­ced through his shéeld, & made him to fall backwards vpon the crouper of his Elephant, y^t he made the great beast to dou­ble with his legs, and falling downe he fell vpon one of the giants legs. The Prince when he saw him in y^e extremitie, & y^t he could not arise, he leapt from his horse w^t great lightnes, & did help him to take out his leg from vnder y^e Elephant: likewise he did helpe him to arise vpon his féete, and sayd. Doe not thinke Gyant, that thou shalt haue anye occasion [Page] to praise thy selfe, in saying that by a disgrace I did subdue thee. Therefore now doe what thou canst doo, for to defend thy selfe. The Gyant without any consideration of the cur­tesie showed him, clasped fast his broad sword, striking a ter­rible and fearfull blow at the Prince, who by leaping on the one side, caused him to loose his blowe, & stepping on y^e other side, he gaue him such a stroke vpon the waste, that the har­nesse broke, and his sword hid it selfe in the Giants flesh, and hurt him very sore, whereat ran out very much bloud. When the Giant sawe the great damage that he had done vnto his body by that blowe, he thr [...]we his shield from him, taking fast bolde of his great sword in both his hands (and without hauing any power to shunne from it) he stroke the prince such a blow vpon his shield, that he cut it in two pée­ces, and it descended downe vpon his healme with so greate strength and waight, that against his will, it made him to stoope with his knées to the ground, and to staye himselfe with one of his hands, because he should not fall downe all together. This diuelish giant, when he saw him in that case, would haue stroke him another blowe: but at such time as he would haue discharged it, this inuincible Knight arose vp with so great wrath, y^t a thicke smoke came out of his visor, and without any more tarrying, he threw the péece of the shield that remained from him, and with a light leape he ioi­ned with his enemie, and stroke him so horrible and furi­ous a blow vpon his helme, that it did little profite him the strength of the stéele, but he cut it in two péeces, head & all, and he fell downe to y^e ground. Oh what great disturbance and feare this vnmeasurable blowe caused vnto all the peo­ple, as well to those of the Citie, as to those of the contrary part. But aboue all this, Geredeon was much amazed. And with the great anger and wrath which he had to see the two Giants slaine before him, he thrust himselfe amongst all the people, w^t so great rumour, as when a strong rocke by force of an earthquake, when the fierce and furious winde dooth take it, and teare and rent it out of the place and scituati­on, whereas it was wont to stand: and with the terrible & [Page 177] great noise and sound thereof, not onely all the shepheardes and heard men of the field be scarred and afraide, but also the great blow doth remaine in the aire with a great and rum­bling ecko: euen with the like furie this Arginarian king ru­shed amongst and through his people. Claridiano without shewing anie kinde of trouble, did abide his comming with so strong and couragious a heart, as doth the crooked & crag­ged rocke abide to make defence against the force and vnbr [...] ­ [...]eled [...]urie of y^e restlesse Neptune. So with great hast went the Gyant against the new knight, and as he came before him, he coulde not coniecture who or what vntamed young man that should be, for that he neuer at anie time heard anie speaking of him, and with the lyke confusion he sayd. Knight, I know not what to saye vnto so hainous a matter that by thée is committed against me, for séeing thy great boldnesse which thou hast had to disquiet and anger me, it doth cause me to procure to haue reuengement of thée. And to the con­trarie I sée thou art one alone knight, and therefore I dooe take it for a dishonour and rebuke to lift vp my furious arme agaynst thée. Therfore that which I desire thée, is this, that thou doest returne vnto the citie and cause to be gathered to­gether one hundreth of the best knights, chosen out from a­mongest the rest, and sée that you come straight againe, for that of you all together, I wil take this my desired reuenge­ment. And yet for all this, I doe tell thée, I shall not be sa­tisfied for the great anger & wrath the which I haue against thée. Whosoeuer had bene present to haue heard him speake these wordes woulde haue trembled with feare, but hee in whome feare could neuer take place, and one which tooke no care nor did not esteeme his words, sayde: I doe not knowe wherevppon thou doest staye, if thou doest meane to take reuengement of him who hath so much offended thée, especi­allye hauing him before thée: but thou shalt vnderstande, thou diuellish Gyant, that thy furious looke, nor thy beastlye body, neither thy monstrous members, can put me in feare, for y^t being as thou art, furnished w^t a cruell heart, & so great a friend vnto tyranie, & héere I tell thée, y^t the aduauntage [Page] which thou biddest me to take, I doe not desire it, neither I will not take it, but rather I will thée that thou make thy selfe readie for thy defence, and procure if thou canst to driue me out of the field, and when thou hast ouercome me and got the victorie, then maist thou make thy combat with y^e other ninetie and nine. And with this he did put himselfe a parte, shaking his sword with a meruailous good grace. When the Gyant sawe this, in manner of mocking he sayd: Go get thée hence thou vile thing, and take vnto thée the fauour and aide which I doe will thee, and doe not thinke that thou shalt ob­taine of me so honourable and end, to be slaine of me in equall battaile. Héere this new knight by anie meanes coulde not suffer his outragious arrogancie, but sayd vnto him: Thou cruell tyrant, subiect to all pride, defend thy selfe, and leaue off these reuilinges and boastes. And in saying these wordes the Prince pressed to the Gyant, and stroke at him so strong a blow vpon one of his thighs, that his strong armour did fal­cifie, and he made a little wound, out of the which issued very much bloud. When this infernall monster felt himselfe thus hurt, and séeing that he made little account of him, but rather despised his wordes, without anie more tarrying, he lift vp a verie heauie mase of yron, which was greate and long, and had hanging at the ende thereof fiue balles of stéele, each of them hanged by a stéele chaine of greate strength. The king Delfo was meruailously troubled, when he sawe the defor­med weapon which was raised in the aire, making a greate noise, and with greate furie readie to be discharged vpon the head of this warlike knight, who when he saw it comming, with his accustomed lightnesse did procure to deliuer him­selfe from so horrible a blowe, and in such sort it came, that all those fiue balls fell together on the ground, at which fall by reason of the great waight of the mase, he was constrained to fall forwards with the blowe. The Prince which at that time was not without care, but séeing him in that sorte, hée stepped quickly vnto him, & stroke him so mightie and great a blow vpon his strong helme, y^t with y^e great strength wher­with it was giuen, did constraine the gyant by pure force to [Page 178] put both his hands on the ground, but straight waie he arose againe, and lift vp his monstrous weapon, and stroke at him another terrible blowe, the knight woulde once againe hau [...] cléered himselfe from that blow, but he could not do it, but y^e one of those balls did glaunce vpon the visour of his helme, in such sorte, that it made him to gi [...]e thrée or foure steps back­wards, he was so amazed, wherewith he was readie to fall downe, which without all doubt he had, if that he had not la­boured to staie himselfe by falling forwards, with his hands to the ground, the which was not so quickly done, and he re­couered, but that the Gyant had his mase in the aire ready to strike him againe, but hauing time, he cléered himselfe there­of, so that he stroke that blow in vaine, wherewith the prince fastned so mightie a blow at the Gyant vpon his backe, that he made him to fall forwards with his hands vpon y^e earth, he had not so soone giuen him that blow, but straight way he gaue him the second vpon his helme, that without féeling he made him to fall againe vpon his hands, with both his knées to the ground. The Princes swoord was not so fine & strong to suffer so great strokes, but broke in péeces with those ter­rible blowes, which was the occasion that as then the battel was not finished. So the Prince when he saw himselfe with­out his swoord, thought it best to withdrawe himselfe backe, and the Arginarian king when he beheld himselfe so vsed, gi­uing terrible rorings, he arose vp, so that he made all y^e earth to shake, and when he was on [...]oote he lift vp the visor of his helme for to take aire: likewise he lift vp his g [...]ea [...] mase, and went towards the Prince for to strike him, this inuincible knight when he sawe himselfe without anie weapon for to make his defence against so terrible an aduersarie, who had lifted vp his armes aboue his head with his mase in his handes al [...]t for to strike him, and for that he knewe verye well that the small péece of his sword which did remayne in his hande was but little auaileable, hée determined straight wayes to throwe it at him, and in the throwing of it his fortune was so good, that before thy Gyaunt coulde let his armes descende with that furious blowe [Page] be stroke him on the visour (which a little before he had lift vp to take the aire) that it all to plaistred his face and nose, whereof he receiued so much paine and griefe, that he had no strength to execute his heauie blow. When the Gyaunt felt this great harme, he let loose his holde from the mase with his left hand, and clapped it vnto his face. The new knight, who receiued no griefe at his extremitie, but waying the ne­cessitie into which he was driuen, for lacke of a weapon, but seeing the Gyant occupyed in feeling of his face, and wring­ing his bodie at the griefe thereof, he did procure to winne from him his mase, and giuing a contrarie leap, as the Ounce doth when she is oppressed by the hunter, layed ho [...] on the mase, and pulled it, giuing so strong and wilie a turne, being done with so great swiftnesse, that he was constrained to let it loose out of his hand. The Gyant when he saw that he had lost his mase, and that it was in the power of his enimie, pres­sed vnto him for to catch him betwéene his armes, but this new knight, who was nothing desirous of such imbrasing, de­fended himselfe from the same by putting himselfe on y^e one side, and as the Gyant passed by, he stroke him with that fu­rious mase so terrible a blow on the backe, that he made him to go forwards spite of his téeth, which made him forget to desire anie more to come to wrastle. So when the Gyant had stretched himselfe vpright, he drew out his broad and sharpe sword, and with a gallant demeanour, his sword all aloft, he pressed vnto the new knight, who was with his mase readie at his standing, abiding his comming. The new knight did first discharge his blow, for that he might strike him a farre of, and chaunced with one of the balls to hit him vpon the left arme, with so strong a blowe, that the bone of the wrist he brake in péeces, which made the Gyant to loose his furious blowe. Who were nowe able to declare the greate furye and outragiousnesse of this fierce Gyant: there was neuer furie so fierce, nor the swift wind of A [...]olus in the close and narrowe caues of the mountaines, as the Gyant was at that time, without hauing anie regarde vnto the dammage which a lyttle before hée had receiued, but flourishing aloft with [Page 179] his great sword, he sayd: O vile knight, I tell thée that ther is no Gods in the heauen, no, on the earth, or sea, that shall haue anie power to deliuer thée frō me. This warlike knight answered: Thou vncurteous and vnreasonable Gyant, hold thy peace, and speake no such blasphemies, but do what thou canst, and then thou shalt sée how little thou art worth, and of what small estimation, and therewith he lift vp his mace and returned vnto his former and furious battaile. Héere I doe now lacke a sharpe and prompt vnderstanding, for to set forth at large, and with swéete and delicate reasons, that it might be delightfull vnto the readers, the great courage and strength which that strong warriour did shew, and the great hast and spéed he vsed against his furious enimie, laying on him with that great mace, which alwaies oppressed him with those great and heauie blowes, in such sort, that it hurt and wounded him verie much. And héere I [...] giue you to vn­derstand, that the fiercenesse and furie of this battaile was such, that the author durst not declare at large th [...] great vali­antnesse therein vsed, for that he stood in doubt of his owne vnderstanding, to declare it effectually as it passed, therefore he doth omit the declaring [...]hereof, but that these two strong and stout warriours were two houres together, striking and hur [...]ing the one the other, and each of them shewing y^e greate stou [...]nesse, strength, and courage of their hearts, and wer [...]oth kindled in so much wrath and ire, that more by strength then by policie, they defended themselues, either of them procuring to ouercome his aduersarie. So at this time the fierce Gyant stroke his enimie such a terrible blow, which chanced glance­ing vpon his healme, and descended downe with so greate a sound vpon his left shoulder ( [...]hat if it had not bene by [...]he greate vertue which his armour had, beeing made by y^e wise inchaunter) the hardnesse of the steele would lyttle haue pro­fit [...]d but that he shoulde haue cut him, with all that parte of the bodie downe to the wast, neuerthelesse the strength of the blowe was such, and put him to so much paine, that the Prince felte himselfe to bee verie euill thereof, insomuch that it did depriue him at that time of his [...], that hee [Page] could not lift vp the heauie mase for to strike the king of Ar­ginaria. His paine and griefe was such, that his aduersarie did perceiue his weaknesse, which caused him to make more hast in striking of the Prince, with such furious blowes, that it made this new knight to retire from him, drawing after him that heauie mase with his right hand. Who at this time shoulde haue séene the countenaunce of the king of Argina­ria, and the king Delfo would well haue iudged theyr greate trouble of mindes. This warlike knight was verie much troubled with that great griefe, insomuch that many times he thought to haue imbraced with the Gyaunt and wrastled with him, which certainely he would haue done if the griefe had continued, but he felt that the paine decreased, which was the occasion that he went dalying with the gyant, who with hastie and terrible blowes followed striking of him, but whē the Prince felt himselfe cléere of the paine, and that hée was able to lift vp his arme, hée tooke the mase in both his hands, and setled his féet verie strong on the ground, and kept in his breath, that he might with more strength discarge his blow, detayning it till such time as the Gyants blow was stroke, which was with so great strength, that falling on y^e ground, the sword entered into the earth more then halfe of it, and it was the occasion that the Prince had better time, for to exe­cute his mightie and determined blowe, and discharging it, with two of the balls of stéele which hung at the mases end, he let driue such a blowe on the Gyaunt, that he made him to stoope with both his knées to the ground, and séeing him in that plight, he stroke at him another blowe, which was vp­pon his helme, which gaue such a sound, as though it had ben stroke vpon a bell: wherewith he fell with all his bodie to the ground, and stretched out his huge members, making no more mouing, and when this new knight sawe that he moo­ued not, he pulled of his healme, and perceiued that the blowe was such, that it beate out his eyes and the braines out of his head. Then the young Prince gaue thankes vnto the Gods, for that he had no perfect knowledge of his descent, nor anie lyght that he was a christian, & taking vp the mase, [Page 180] he layd it on his shoulder, and with great quietnesse he went vnto the Citie, and straight way there came vnto him Galte­nor, & the king Delfo, with a great number more of knights, that had bene beholding the furious battaile, who did imbrase him with so great ioy and loue, that I am not héere able to expresse it, and did request him that he woulde goe and lye downe, for that they iudged he should be verie weary. He was so much importunated by so many knights, that he could doo no otherwise but goe take his rest, and lie downe, wheras he was cured & healed of such blowes as he had receiued, which was black and blew, and there was ministred vnto him such ointments as did mitigate the pain [...]s and griefes which hée had receiued. So all those which came with the Gyant when that they sawe their Lord was dead, they receiued no sorrow nor griefe thereat, for they could not [...] his great pride & euill conditions, for they did not onely [...] him, but they did desire that he might die a naughtie death, & make a short and euill end. And in this sort as you do sée, the intreating of this Gyant of his subiects, so are all them that be of so great pri [...]e intreated in all the world: he was scarce dead when y^t all those of the kingdome of Arginaria were very ioyfull to sée it so come to passe, and were verie desirous to yéeld vp vn­to Galtenor, his right and inheritance, and sent straight waies Embassadours to the Citie▪ whereas he was▪ promising to giue him peaceable entring into the kingdome, as vnto their naturall king & Lord, and iustly discharging themselues of all wherein they were found guiltie. The messengers were meruailously well receiued of Galtenor, and with great loue, and he did accept their offer. So it fell out that in one daye, was the Gyant Geredeon king and Lord of Arginaria, and in the selfe same daie was Galtenor with great contentment vnto all the people of the Ilande And when he sawe him­selfe that he was Lorde of that which he so greatly desired, he straight wayes dispatched messengers for his kingdome, in giuing them to vnderstande of all that passed, in the which they did reioyce verye much, and with excéeding greate good will they receiued all the newes which was sent, [Page] and were as glad of the death of Geredeon, as they were of restoring of the kingdome vnto Galtenor. In few dayes af­ter was Claridiano come againe to his strength, and made whole, which was so great ioye and pleasure vnto the King Delfo, that vnto his iudgement, he needed not to desire anye other thing. So when the messengers were retourned y^t they sent vnto Arginaria, they did determine, for that all the coun­trey should [...]e put in good order, that Galtenor shoulde depart for that part out of hand, who did procure to cary with him Claridiano: but the King Delfo would not consent vnto it by any meanes, for the which the king Galtenor went away greatly discontented. And when he came vnto his kingdome they receiued him with great pompe and honour, and with great delight to s [...] their naturall Lord, and there was non [...] that made any resistaunce against the receiuing of his posses­sion: for that one sonne which the Giaunt left and his bro­ther Bruno, were gone into the Iland of Vespe [...]a of whom in the third part of this historie shall be tolde vnto you. And now it is necessarie to leaue the King Delfo, and the King of Arginaria, with the great delight of their victorie, and to retourne vnto the noble Emperour, whome we lef [...]e with his furious and well foughten battaile, in the first part of this booke, with the King of the Garamantes, who had gi­uen the Emperour so great a blow, that he left him without f [...]eling. But when the Emperour was come again vnto him selfe, he tourned about his horse with more fury then the Li­o [...]s in the wayne of the mother Idea, when that with a fu­rious rage they moued against that sorrowfull Atis in y^• de­sart mountaines of Phrigia. In such sort went this fierce Emperour with his sword all a lofte, and stroke him such a terrible blow vpon his shield, that parting it in two peeces, ioyntly with his helme and head, he fell downe dead to the ground, the which did grieue the Emperour very much, for that he could not performe that which he had promised vnto him. So when this was finished, the Emperour retourned vnto his pallaice, whereas he was receiued with great so­ [...]nitie of instruments, and vnarmed by the Empresse, be­twéene [Page] whom there passed many swéete and amorous spé [...] ­ches touching the communication that they had before the battaile began. And the next day openly, they returned vnto the same talke: but they were cut off by a straunge aduen­ture which entered into the hall, as shall be declared vnto you, in this chapter following.

How a Damosell, messenger from the Queene of Ti­nacria, brought a letter vnto the Emperor of Gre­cia, and of all that passed about the same. Cap. 3.

ALthough I alwayes purpose to seperate my selfe in my discourses, frō y^e fraudes, which that most cruell Venus doth manye times vse, accompanyed with the deceiptes of hir sonne, yet am I constrained to speake some thing therof, and to leaue the stout & strong Mars with his sword in his hande, tourning my pen for to tell vnto you her cruelties and disordinate customes. You doo well remember of the amorous wrath that the Quéene of Tinacria had against the Emperour of Grecia, and what in that furious rage she did ordayn, and how that she com­maunded a faithfull damsell of hers, to carry a letter vnto the Emperour of Grecia, who made so much hast that shée ariued at Constantinople, at such time as the battel betwéen the Emperour, and the king of the Garamantes began. And when she saw the vnhappy ende of the King, she receiued great griefe, being informed of the occasion of all the bat­tell, and wherefore it was made. So with this griefe, for that night she went and tooke her lodging, whereas she re­mained till y^e next day in y^e morning, at such time as y^e Em­perour was with the Empresse, and many other Knights in great ioy & pastimes, & talking of the occasion of the bat­taile that was y^e day before. At that time entred the quéenes damsel with a seuere countenance, and without making any reuerence, she went vnto the Emperour & said. Emperour▪ much more valiant and mightie, than loyall and faithfull, [Page] the vnhappy quéene of Tinacria, doth send me vnto thée that thou maist read this letter, and thereby vnderstand the great tyranny without all reason that thou didst vse against her. The Emperour with an amorous smiling did receiue it, & sayd, Thou art welcome, and for the letter of the quéene, the receipt thereof doth giue me great delight to know and vn­derstand of her highnes. And therewith he opened the letter, and reading it found that that therein was contained that which followeth.

‘The vnhappy and vnfortunate Quéene of Tinacria, vnto the disloyall Emperour of Grecia, can send nor wish no sa­ [...]utation, for hauing no health my selfe, I cannot send it vn­to him, that so much without loue by crueltie hath forgotten me. I cannot but lament, and complain me of thée vnto the Gods, considering that without any refuge thou camst vn­to my kingdome, whereas thou hadst no other hope but of death, and I procured to delyuer thée from it, and sought it for my selfe, what occasion hadst thou O Emperor, that thou wouldest not retourne to sée me? In me thou foundest so much fidelitie, that I did furnish thée with armour and horse, that with them thou shouldst delyuer me from those, which did séeke to haue me against my will: But I with my good will did yéeld my selfe, I say my selfe vnto him, which now doth séeke my death. Ah Emperour, remember, that I sawe thée depriued of all helpe: an vnhappy day for me, for y^t in making much of thée, and giuing thée ioye, I bereaued my selfe of all, and lost the possession of my libertie and honour: and although thou hadst not estéemed, nor tooke any care of the sorrowfull Quéene of Tinacria, yet thou shouldest not haue moued thy selfe to haue made a mocke of the perfecte loue which I did shew thée, and the great desire that I had to serue thée. Thou shouldest haue had some care and griefe séeing that I defended thée from all my Nobles & Knights who sought thy death, thou hauing depriued so manye of my knights of their liues: thou shouldest haue had pitie of thē that had pitie on thée. O loue, that so quickly diddest make me blinde, & depriuedst me of the knowledge which I should [Page] haue had, vnto my royall highnesse. O Emperour of Grecia, I being blinde with the loue of thée, did deny my honestie, which I ought to haue kepte. If thou hadst pretended to mocke me, thou shouldst haue put me out of all doubt, and not haue suffered me, to loose so much as I haue lost for thy sake, but haue procured that I might haue eschewed all this harme, whereof thou hast bene the occasion. Tell me, why didst thou not suffer me to execute my will, y^t I might haue opened my white breast with that sharpe sword: it had ben better for me to haue dyed then, than now, for now liuing, for thée I dayly dye. Remember thy selfe Emperour, and be­hold the harme that will come héerof, and doo not vse so much crueltie with them, that haue not deserued it at thy handes. Haue thou a care vnto the pawn which thou didst leaue be­hinde thée, & let it be an occasion that thou dost retourne to sée me. Do not giue an occasiō, y^t my children remain mother­les in y^e power of them, for thou doest not knowe what my subiects will doo. O Emperour of Grecia, I doo still tarry & looke for thée, y^t which hope doth cause me to suffer this cru­ell paine: & if thou dost send my trustie messenger without it, I shall be driuen to do y^t, of which thou hadst ben better, thou hadst not disturbed me at the first. But now it shal be in this manner, that if thou dost giue ease vnto me, I will procure thine in such sort as possibly I may. So that Em­perour, I doo tarie thy comming, or els answere of my death. And doo not iudge this which I doo, to be of great bolde­nesse, for that Loue doth commaund it. By her, which without all regard, or any foresight, did yeeld vnto thee her libertie.’

When he had made an ende of reading y^e letter he could not haue so much sufferance with himselfe, but with y^e teares which distilled from his eyes, he must néedes shewe the paine which his hearte indured, for the sorrowfull com­plaintes, which that lamentable and complaining Letter did vtter. The Damosell which brought the Letter, all the time that the Emperour was reading of it, she ne­uer withdrewe her eyes from looking on him: and when [Page] she sawe that he had made an ende of reading it, she sayde:‘Wherefore wilt thou giue me to vnderstand O cruell Tre­batio, that thou doest receiue great sorrow of that, which whē thou mightest haue redressed thou wouldest not, and doe not make me beléeue that these outward shewes do procéed from thy heart. Dost thou thinke that it is sufficient to excuse thee from the paine that is pretended to be giuen thée. Dost thou not sée, that when thou couldest giue remedie (thou wouldest not) vnto them, who now are without all hope, and tarryeth for no other satisfaction but w^t thy head. O false Emperour, diddest thou not sée that she was not a ladie to be thus moc­ked and deceiued. Surely thou hast recouered to thy selfe a verie good name, for the exalting of thy lygnage. Thy sonne whom we honour there for a God, may well praise himselfe for his descent, in hauing thée for his father. O false and cru­ell, is this the inheritaunce which thou diddest inherit of thy most famous bloud? Is this the great loyaltie which thou do­est shew vnto thy sonnes? O vile Greeke, how doe the Gods consent that so disloyall a knight should liue in the world. Is it not possible that these sorrowfull & continuall complaints of Tinacria doe not open your eares, and cause you to sende downe punishment, for this greate offence. O ingratefull Gods, receiue the sacrifice of my chastitie in paiment of the reuengement which from your high heauens I hope shall bée done vpon this counterfait without all fayth, and make that my bloud héere shed vpon this stoore, maye shewe the single­nesse and cleane loue of Garofil [...]a and that with the lyke so­lem [...]nitie may be broken in péeces the heart of him which was the causer of her dishonour.’ And in vttering of these & such like sorrowes she tooke forth a naked sword which shée brought readie for the same effect, and put the pomell to the ground, and cast her breast vpon the point, the which she did with so great hast, that the Emperour nor anie of all y^t were there present could not succour her, nor take her from doing that fact. All that were present remained verie much ama­zed to see so sodaine a mischaunce. The Emperour verie full [...] griefe of this successe, withdrew himselfe into his closet, & [Page 183] would not consent that any one should speake a word vnto him. The couragious Empresse with a royall stomacke & great discretion, dissembling her griefe in the best wise shée could, commaunded her body to be caried out of the pallaice, and in the Court of the pallaice she commanned to be made a rich tombe, in the which she was buried: there was made her proportion, which did shew what chaunced vnto y^e dam­sell: and about the tombe was written an Epitaph, which did declare the occasion of her death. All the time that this damsell was a burying, the Emperour neuer came forth out of his closet, neither would he haue come forth when hée did, and if it had not bene by the great importance of y^e Em­presse. Whereas now we will leaue them, for to tell you of the chaunces and aduentures which hapned vnto y^e Prince Eleno, the time that he trauailed in the world, the which for that he was as noble as warlyke, and of great strength, it is not reason, that he should passe so long without making a­ny mention of him. You doo well remember how he wente out of Numidia, with one onely Page, putting himselfe to sea, in that inchaunted barke of the Knight of the Sunne. He was so heauie and sorrowfull for the death of his Ladie and Mistresse, that he was cleane changed, and appeared not to be him that he was woont, neither had he so great wise­dome to gouerne himselfe. In this manner he trauayled al­most a whole yeare, and neuer could méete with Brenio, vn­to whom he was commaunded to giue the letter from Ly­dia, neither could he heare in any place whersoeuer he came, where he might goe to séeke him: in which his trauaile, he did not let but to méete with some aduentures, the which, with great honour to his person, be finished. Yet for all this he could haue no ease of his sorrow & griefe, which brought him in such perplexitie, that if he had not considered y^e great losse of his soule, many times he would haue slain himselfe, So it happened y^t one morning very early, the barke had put her selfe a ground, giuing him to vnderstand, that it was re­quisite there for him to goe a lande. The Prince who was very desirous thereof, quickly went a shore, and after him [Page] his page, who as you haue heard, that by reason of the great hast that the barke made, he coulde not retourne a lande to Numidia. His name was called Fabio, who was to his ma­ster such companye that many times he would comforte the Prince, when he was most troubled with very comfortable words and perswasions, and did serue him with great loue and fidelitie. The Prince and his Page began to trauayle a foote with an easie pace through a narow and straight path, and with a meruailous and diligent eye, he did beholde that countrey, and it séemed vnto him, that he should know it, & that before that time he had passed by that waye: but the firme loue that he had to Lidia, was the occasion that it was out of his remembraunce. So with this sorrowe he trauay­led, till such time as Phoebus had passed the fourth parte of his iourney, when that being wery with the long way, & the great waight of his armor, he was forced to take some rest & ease, vnder the fresh & gréene mirtle trées, whose leaues did hath themselues in a faire & cléere fountaine, whereas he be­gan a new to haue in remembrance his former paine, & com­plaining of Fortune, he published his great griefe, making thow of the great sorrow that he felt, & although he was we­ry of complaining, & seeing himselfe so without all remedye, he called for his lute, for that Fabio did alwayes carry with him, & taking it in his hands, onely to giue some ease vnto his tormented hart, he began to sing these verses following.

His Page Fabio did cause him to leaue off his singing, for with the great attention that he gaue to heare his Ma­ster, he likewise heard a lamentable sound, which séemed to be of a Lady. Likewise the Prince, when he had ended his swéete musicke, did hearken to heare it: and giuing a very attentiue eare, that although she did complaine with a lowe voyce, yet he might heare that the sound of the voice, came forth of the thickest from amongst those trées: and without any more tarrying, he left his lute with his Page, and went that way from which he thought the voyce came, and the far­ther he went, the better he might heare, that weake and fée­ble voyce. Still he went forwards, til such time as he might see who it was that made that lamentation. And he saw that it was a very faire Lady, that was bound vnto a trée, all naked to the skin, she had all her haire spred abroad vppon her naked backe. The Prince came vnto her, and before that he sayd any word, he did vntie her, and cut the cordes wherewith she was bound, and tooke a gowne which was there of the Ladyes, and couered her delicate and white bo­dye. The Ladie was very much ashamed to sée her selfe loose and at libertie: and sitting downe vnder a gréene Oake, the Prince asked of her who he was, that without respect of his owne honestie and honour, had lefte her in that sort. This fayre Lady sayd: Knight, thou shalt vnderstand that I am Daughter vnto a verye good Knight and Gen­tleman, who was Lorde ouer thrée Castles of the best in all this Countrey. ‘My Fathers name was Cosdros, [Page] he was one of them that was slaine by the handes of Bra­marandus, whom afterwardes the Emperour Trebatio slew in battaile. So I remained all alone, very much made off, & well beloued of the widdowe my mother, and we kepte our selues in a very faire castle of ours, not far from this place, whereas we did passe our solitary liues. So I was required of loue, of a Gentleman, more richer in goodes and landes, than in linage or vertue, and I vnderstanding his litle esti­mation, did alwayes esteeme him as little, and neuer made any reckoning of his messages: the which was the occasi­on that his desire was the more stronger, in such sorte, that he séeing himselfe by me not estéemed, but put off, with the great griefe that he receiued for my loue, he dyed, and at the houre of his death, he neuer left naming of, Felina, the cause of all my harme. At such time as he dyed there was a bro­ther of his present: and hearing him to declare the causer of his death, there kindeled in him so much anger and wrath, that he bare vnto me a perpetuall hatred and did procure to haue amends for the death of his brother. So it hapned on a time, that I went out of the Castle without any mistrust, in the company of other two damsells, at which time I was stole away by him, and other foure Knightes, who broughte me vnto this place, which is to my great sorrow and gréefe, whereas they bound me in that sort as thou hast found me gentle Knight, and not content héerewith (but for my more paine and sorrow) they left me naked, with greater desire to die then to liue.’ This Ladye coulde not let but to associa [...] her tale with great lamentations, wherein this Dacian did beare her company, and sayd. Of truth sorowfull Lady, for­tune hath vsed with me great liberalitie, to bring me hether in this time, for to set you at libertie from this great capti­uitie, and to make reuengement of thy honour: and héere I doo offer my selfe, and doo giue vnto thée my fayth of knight­hood to perfourme it, or to loose my lyfe. This faire Ladye was somewhat comforted with the offer of the Knight, and gaue him great thanks for the fauor which he did offer her. In this sort they passed the rest of the night that remained, [Page 185] till such time as the Sunne of Tona did shew his glistering face, spreading all abroad his golden beames, accompanyed with y^e swéet and rosalyke Aurora, at which time they were all readie a foote for to goe onwards on their waie, & straight wayes they heard amongest the thickest of those trées a still sound. The Prince being verie desirous to knowe what it was, and comming thether, he saw that it was his horse, the which was brought thether by the order of the wise Lyrgan­deo, from the place whereas he lefte him, at such time as hée did imbarke himselfe. The Prince receiued great delight at the sight of him, and taking him by the bridle, he leaped on his back, and went to séeke the Ladyes Palfraie, which was let loose amongst those thicke trées, and they found him fee­ding in a faire and gréene medowe, adorned with many fresh and swéete flowers. So his page leapt on his backe, & tooke the Ladie behinde him, and trauailed through a narow and well beaten path which brought them into a broad waie that carried them into a verie great and large plaine, at [...] the ende thereof there was a verie faire Castell, and in the mid­dest of the plaine they sawe foure knightes which came to­wards them, and when they were nigh together, the one of them sayd: Tell me knight, who made thée so bolde, as for to vnloose this Ladie from thée place whereas she was made fast. What is this that thou askest, sayd Eleno, is it possible that thou art hée, that forgetting all the honour that thou do­est owe vnto the order of knighthood, madest fast this Ladie. The knight an [...]wered & sayd: I am he that did it, & hée that will take awaie thy life from thée, in recompence of thy great boldnesse to vnloose her. So without anie more tarrying the Prince Eleno turned about his horse towards him. When this sorrowful Ladie [...]awe him y^t was the occasion of all her euill, she leapt downe from her Palfray, & began with a new sorow, her gréeuous lamentation. Those foure knights came all against y^e prince, some with their speares, & he y^t had none, came w^t his swoord in his hand with great furie, one of the foure, who thought himselfe to be more valiant thē all y^e rest, came formost with his sword in his hand all a high, & stroke [Page] him a mightie blow vpon his helme with all his strength: but this Dacian Prince made little account thereof: and passing by he stroke him a blow vpon his shield, and for that his blow could extend no farther, he remained with his life, otherwise it had cost him the price thereof, for it parted his shield in two péeces. The Knight returned, and gaue him a­nother blow, that it made the sparks of fire to fly out of his healme. Then the Dacian full of yre, let goe his shield, and clasped fast his sword in both his hands, and stroke him so terrible a blow vpon his helme, that he cut helme and heade in two péeces, and he fell down dead to the earth. The other seeing their companion dead, all thrée together set vpon him: but this valiant Dacian who in such like aduentures neuer had any feare, did receiue them with his accustomed furye, striking on them both on the right and lefte hand with mor­tall blowes. In the meane time, this afflicted Lady, when she sawe the Knight dead, which caused her dishonour▪ lyke a fu­rious Lionesse she went towards him and sayd. Oh howe the gods haue giuen thée thy paiment for the dishonor, which thou hast done me: yet she said. O heauie Felina, what doth this reuengement profite thy honour, being lost, it were ve­ry great riches vnto me, that by the death of him which hath robbed me of it, it might be restored me again. Oh my gods, I am in no falt, in the loosing of my chastitie, for that it was violently taken from me, in the thicke forrest. There shall be none able to disturbe, but that I will execute my fury vp­pon my selfe, although I doo not deserue the same: and in saying these words, she tooke the sword of that dead knight, and put the poynt to her breast, and threw her selfe thereon, in such sort, that Fabio could not succour her, although with great hast he would haue done it. The Dacian Knight cast­ing his head on the one side, and saw the harme done, he pres­sed forwards with great furie and yrefull wrath, and lifte vp his sword, and stroke such a blow at one of them vppon his right arme, that arme and sworde together fell to the ground, and strayght tourned vnto another, and with an ouerthwart blowe, he stroke him on the making fast of his [Page 186] helme, that head and all came to the ground. Then he which remained, séeing the fiercenesse of his aduersary, would haue runne away. But the Dacian perceiuing it, before that hée could put in execution his desire, he stroke him such a blow vpon his helme, that being parted in péeces with the head, he made him to beare company with his dead companions. So when he had concluded this battaile, he went vnto the dead Lady, and hauing great sorrow to sée her he pulled the blou­die sword out of her body, and commaunded Fabio that in the best manner he could to make a graue, and to bury her. The Dacian did helpe him all that he could, and béeing done vnto their contentment, he put an Epitaph ouer her, which was in this wife.

So when he had written this Epitaph, ioyning this great sorrowe vnto that which he had before, he leapt vppon his horse, and put himselfe amongst a companie of troublesome trées, among the which he had not trauailed long, when hée heard one playing on a shephardes Rebucke, which made a very swéete sounde, and tourning his horse that waye from whence the sound came, hée chaunced to come whereas hée founde certaine Shepheardes, who by theyr countenaunces appeared to bée verye sadde, and they sate vnder a Wal­nut trée, where they passed awaye the great heate of the daye. These Shepheards when they saw the Prince, arose vp, and with great ioye they did salute him: The Prince retourned vnto them their salutations, and did alyghte from his horse, which he gaue vnto Fabio his Page, that he might put him into some voyde Pasture, together with his Palfraie, whereas they might féede on the gréene grasse, [Page] in the shadow from the heate of the Sunne. The Prince sate downe vnder the Walnut trée, and asked of them if they had anie thing to eate, the which was giuen him with a verye good will, being such as they had prouided themselues, and he eate of it for that he had a verie good stomacke, so héere to take some ease, I doe referre the rest till the next Chap­ter.

¶How the Dacian Prince did meete with Brenio, to whom he gaue the Letter of Lidia, and what Brenio did aun­swere therevnto. Chap. 4.

IN the meane time that the Prince and his Page did eate of y^t which y^e shepheardes had giuen them, they neuer withdrew their eyes from the Prince, but did verie much behold him, and reioyced to sée him so well propor­tioned and so fayre, but yet they meruailed to sée him so sadde and pensiue, musing what should bée the occasion of his great heauinesse, and one of the shepheardes did aske him, and sayd: Knight, what great heauinesse is this which you séeme to haue, for according vnto the outwarde shew it séemeth to procéede of loue. Ah my friend, aunswered Eleno, is it possible that thou doest know anie parte of those euills, for that me thinketh loue ought not to be remembred of them that doe dwell so farre from anie townes or compa­nie, as you which in these sharpe and cragged mountaines doe make your habitation. How do we know, answered the shepheard: he is of such strength and subtiltie, that he doth not onely shew his force vpon vs, but also he is the occasion that we doo occupie our imaginations in his delights (which is so greate a torment that we cannot receiue a greater) he ma­keth that our cattell (that doe not deserue anye such harme) lacke their good féeding which wée shoulde procure, the which our small regarde doeth appeare in theyr weake and leane bodyes, lowing more time for hunger thē for too much féeding or good pasture.

[Page 187]Ah Knight, what shoulde I tell you of that which he hath caused all vs that be héere to suffer, and when we doo talke of it, there is not one of vs, but doth muse at the other, how he hath the force & strength to beare it. The Dacian knight sayd: I know well that he doth pardon none, neither is ther any that doth escape from his power, such is his pride and ambition: therefore it is not much to be meruailed at, sée­ing that he doth as well walke the fieldes as the dwelling townes. But sith it hath pleased Fortune (the more for my paine and griefe) to méete with them that are wounded with loue, I doo desire you that I may take some pleasure in your musicke, and in hearing some songs that you haue made to publish your true and perfect loue withall. This we will do with a very good will aunswered the shephearde: and for that you doo séeme vnto vs, for to be of high estate, we will playe on our instruments, to giue you some comfort, and we will publish our paines and griefes, with our own mouths: and taking the Rebeck in his hand, which was meruailous­ly well wrought, he beganne to playe vppon the same very swéetely, and likewise did associate the musicke with these pastorall verses.

With great paine, and with a gracious countenaunce in his musicke, this shepheard did sing his song: and when he had made an ende, he said. Ah knight, if you did knowe the cause of this my song, you would take as much griefe & sor­row at it, as of my paine: you shall vnderstande that I did loue a Pastora very much, and doo beléeue she repayed me a­gaine with the same loue, and no longer agoe, but yesterdaye she was taken out of these fieldes, and carried vnto Tina­cria, vnto the Quéene Garrofilea. The shepheard vttered this with so great abundance of teares, that he could not speak a worde more: so one of the other shepheardes tooke the Re­becke, and began to sing as followeth.

This louing shepheard when he had made an ende of his song, giuing a great and sorrowfull sigh, let the Rebeck fall out of his hande. The third shephearde with a dissembling laughter, arose vpon his féete and sayd. Oh soueraigne gods, that this Loue might be séene, whom all you doo account to be a God & Lord, that you might at your ease reioyce in his simplenes, & know him that hath brought you out of all vn­derstanding & remēbrance, as it doth appeare by your varia­ble resons, & ill placed words, which without anye order be vttered▪ so y^t I promise you, if we shuld turne & make reher­sall at night, of all y^t which you do talk on in y^t day, you shal not finde y^t ther is any agréement therein, as by their songs gentle Knight you may know, & with what Philosphie they wold giue vs to vnderstand, y^t two bodies haue but one hart. And héere I sweare vnto you, by y^t might & power of Alfe­bo, y^e restorer of our Countryes, & by the great valor of the Dacian Prince, y^t in what sort soeuer you will tumble and tosse these variable reasons, ther is no vnderstanding of man can cause me to beléeue, y^e two bodies are gouerned by one heart alone, at least wayes I would not be he that should be without a heart. Likewise heare the reasons of my other companion, who tumbleth together and maketh a mixture [Page] of glorie and paine, and paine and glorie, as though we should mixe honnie and gall together: and if I should let them con­tend much, they woulde goe about to make me beléeue that which neuer chanced: but remaine you with these your amo­rous thoughtes, or as I might better saie, with your foolish conceits, and let me haue continually my cattell well fed and gouerned, and in as good plight as now they are, béeing so fat as the skinne may holde, and not to be as you are, that hath lost all your owne reason and vnderstanding, and therewith forget and loose the care that you should haue of yours, who for lacke of looking vnto, be so leane. And making an end in saying these words, he sate himselfe downe, and séemed to bée verie angrie to sée his cōpanions so without reason & vnder­standing, and blinded with loue. The which words was the occasion, that the Prince Eleno was constrained to doe that, which since his departure out of Dacia he did not, which was, that he laughed to heare the simplicitie of this shepheard, and taking in hand to aunswere him, he sayd: Friend, I doe tell thée that thy resistaunce is great: likewise thy vnderstanding is verie much, that being conuersant dayly and hearing the great complaints and communication of so amorous sheap­heards, thou art not intangled with the same. And héere I do desire thée, that thou hold thy selfe firme in the same, and kéep thy selfe still as thou art, least peraduenture that which thou doest now call follie, héereafter thou wilt call discreation and wisedome. Thou mayst now well account thy selfe happie, for that without all care and sorrow, thou mayst reuile them who doth complaine of so manie miseries. With a greate laughter this shepheard aunswered and sayd: Nowe gentle Knight, I doe tell thée, that I will as little contend with thée as with thy companions, for that it séemeth vnto mée that thou art also a vassall vnto that foolish loue, and I doe more estéeme my libertie, thus simple as thou doest sée mée, then all the wisedome which thou dost presume to haue: it is much better for the shepheard to haue care and kéepe of his cattell, to guide them in good féeding, and not euerie small time to call for his crowde, and singing two thousand songes, the [Page] which the Diuell cannot vnderstand, and although they sing them, yet I thinke they vnderstand them not themselues. So one of his companions cut off his reasons and sayde: Tari­do, doest thou not know, how at mine owne libertie, in times past I did gouerne my selfe, and mocking and iesting at them who did publish the lyke complaintes. Héere I dooe desire the Gods to maintaine thée in this estate, and to kéepe thee y^• loue doo not extend his furie vpon thée, for if hée do, he will make thée repent a thousand times these wordes which thou hast sayde. And héere gentle Knight (without giuing anye attension vnto this Rusticall shephearde) [...]éere I dooe desire you, for that I sée you bring that which is necessarye, that you would plaie and sing, for that the manifesting of thy sor­rowe in some vearse, may be an occasion to mitigate some­what of our paine. The Prince to shew pleasure vnto the shepheards, and vsing his accustomed magnificence, tooke his Lute in his hande and played and song these vearses fol­lowing.

With the great paine and sorrow that Eleno felt, he was not able to goe forwardes with his song, for that there came to his remembraunce the sodaine departure of Lidia, which constrained him to leaue it of, and one of the shepheards that was there sayd: Oh gentle knight, how the queene our Lady would reioyce to heare you, for that she is likewise afflicted by loue, for which cause and for that she would at some time take ease of her sorrowe and paine, she doth commaund vs to sing our louing and amorous songs, who doth solempnise our swéet and loiung vearses, with teares distilling from her sorrowfull eies: Then Eleno asked of them who was the oc­casion, that the quéene, without hauing anie power to reme­die her selfe should suffer such like torment. The shepheard [Page 190] did declare vnto him all that hath bene tolde you in the sto­rie past of the Emperour Trebatio, and of all that passed with the Quéene. Tarido, who of all this had no care, but onely to the féeding of his cattell, did breake off this conuersation, in rising vp to put abroad his Cattel into the gréene medowes, the other shepheardes that were in companie with Tarido, desired that the night wer come, for to returne and to reioyce themselues in hearing the swéet and well consorted musicke of the Prince, & so they made agréement to returne to y^e same place, but it fell not out as they had determined, for that vp­pon a sodaine and vnawares Eleno heard a verie dolorous sigh towards his left hand, which was so terrible, heauy, and bitter, that it made him giue attentiue eare to sée if he coulde vnderstand what it should be, and with the quiet eare that he gaue, he might discerne that the occasion of all that euill was loue, which caused him to say: Oh almightie God, I sup­pose that this is the place wher in olde time they reported to bée planted the dwelling of the Goddesse Venus, for that since my comming hether to take my rest, I haue hearde no other thing but lamentations, and so with making the least noise possible, he arose vp and began to goe towards the place whereas he might sée what it was, and there hée behelde a knight verie well armed, which thou didde alight from his horse, vnder a fayre and gréene Myrtle trée, his armour was all russet, and full of barres of blacke stéele, which shewed to be a verie sadde, sorrowfull, and heauie enamelling▪ hée was somewhat of a bigge stature of bodie and well propor­tioned, and there séemed by his disposition to bée in him greate vertue, and with sorrowfull sighes hée laide himselfe downe on the gréene grasse, and with sadde and heauy words he sayd.

Ah heauie and peruerse fortune why doost thou consent that so naughtie and euill a man as I am doe liue so long: Oh my Lidia, with how much reason maist thou complaine of the cruell outrage that thou receiuedst at the handes of Brenio, béeing nothing of him considered: ‘O Brenio, Brenio, whereon was thy thought & vnderstanding▪ which did induce [Page] thée to commit so great euill, in leauing all alone and with­out comfort, the thing, of whome thou wert most beloued in the world, giuing and leauing her, vnto the will of the wilde and furious beasts. It is possible indéede that they will haue more compassion on thee my Lidia, then he who had more reason to comfort and loue thée. Oh cruell, and without all faith, thou wert born into this world, for thy own torment, when with thy selfe thou didst consent to commit so greate treason. Where was thy vnderstanding that thou couldest not remember thy selfe, & take pitie on her, that did forsake her affinitie and Countrey, for thée and thy loue. O Lidia, who made me to forget all the great paines and trauaile which thou tookest, in wandring by lande alone lamenting, and sometimes by sea sorrowing, and all for to set at liber­tie him, who lefte thée prisoner amongst the wilde beastes. Oh happy beast is he, that chaunceth to bury thée in his bel­ly: and woe be vnto me traitor, without any knowledge of vertue or pittie. What doth it now profite me to fill y^e aire with my lamentations, séeing that the harme and euill is alreadie past, and without all remedy or hope of comfort:’& héerewith he gaue a terrible and grieuous sigh, & so held his peace. Don Eleno by those heauie and sorrowfull wéepings together with his reasons which he heard, knewe him to bée that Brenio, whom so long time he had laboured to séeke and find out with so great trauaile, and knew him to be the cau­ser of the death of his Lady and Mistresse, the paine and so­rowe was so extreame the which he felt, that he was con­strained without anie féeling to fall down to the ground, but yet the furie of his couragious heart woulde not giue place that he should so remaine long, but straight wayes with the great anguish that he had, he arose vp againe on foote, with great desire to fight with Brenio, but calling to remēbrance all that which was commanded him, he would first performe the same, in giuing him the letter, and then when hée hadde made an ende of reading the same, to demaunde of him bat­taile▪ So with this thought and determination, he went vn­to the place whereas Brenio was, who, when he heard the [Page 191] noyse, straight wayes on his féete: then Eleno did salute him with a voyce somewhat heauie. And Brenio did return vnto him his salutation, with no lesse showe of griefe. Then this amorous Eleno, tooke forth the letter out of the place, whereas so long time he had kept it, and taking it into his hand he sayd. ‘Is it possible that thou art y^e forgetful and dis­loyall Brenio, the which left Lidia, with so great paine and sorrow, all alone in the power, of the wilde beasts.’ Brenio when he heard him to saye these words, he began to behold him, although his eyes were all to be blubbered and wearie with wéepings, he aunswered him and sayd. ‘I will not de­ny thée gentle Knight, that which the high heauens doth cō ­plaine of. Thou shalt vnderstand that I am the same Bre­nio, whom thou hast demaunded for. Tell me what is your will, and what it is that you would haue. Eleno aunswered him. Oh ingratefull Knight without all knowledge and vn­derstanding, what diuel was that, which put in thy thought to commit so great villanie, take héere vnto thée, and reade this letter, the last worke of the faire and white hand of Li­dia.’The prince was so troubled in his thought, and so much grieued, that it was almost the occasion, to dissolue the soule from his body. This penitent and sorrowfull Lusitanian, put foorth his hand somewhat trembling, in such sort, that béeing constrained, by force to take the letter, the same force by weary meanes, did constraine him to sit downe, on the ground, without any farther power to the contrarie: & whē he opened the letter, he knew it to be written by his Lidia: who with great alteration of heart and minde, did read it, the which was as héereafter follolloweth.

The teares were in so great abundance which this sad & heauy knight did shed in the time that he was a reading this dolorous letter, that he all to wet the same, y^e messenger like­wise did not let to beare him companie, and to solempne his heauinesse with so many more teares distilling frō his eyes. The great sorrow & lamentation was such & so much, that in a great space the one could not speake vnto the other, but af­terward their paine being somewhat appeased, Brenio began to speake & say. Oh messenger from her, with the remēbrance of whose wrong my soule is wounded, being vndeseruedly, of me euill rewarded. Tell me for Gods loue if thou doest know where she is, shew vnto me her abiding place, that I may go thether, & giue a discharge of this my great fault, in yéelding my selfe to death: Oh cruell & without all loue, an­swered Don Eleno, what discharge canst thou giue vnto her y^t already through thy crueltie is dead & buried: thou shalt do much better to arise & take vnto thée thy armor, & defend thy selfe from him that will procure thy death, to make satisfac­tion of the debt, y^t she without anie dutie did pay. Is it possi­ble answered Brenio, that Lidia is dead: it is possible answe­red Eleno, and she is dead, by the occasion of such a forsworne knight as thou art. This penitent & pained knight when he vnderstood the certaintie of all this euill, with a sodaine and hastie furie stroke himselfe on the breast a great stroke with his fist, and lifting his eyes vnto the heauens in manner of exclamation against his Gods, giuing déepe and sorrowfull sighes, he threw himselfe to the ground, and tumbled & wal­lowed from the one part vnto the other, without taking a­nie ease, or hauing anie power or strength to declare his inwarde paine and griefe the which at that time he felte, [Page] but with an inward lamentatiō, which did torment his hart, he called continually vpon Lidia, and with that diuellish fu­ry wherin he was, he drew out his dagger, and lifting vp the skirte of his shirt of mayle, he thrust it into his body, and gi­uing himself this vnhappy death, with calling vpon Lidia, he finished his life. The Dacian knight remained in a great con­fusion to see this sodayne chaunce, and that in such sort, that he could put no remedy therein, but with the great heauines and sorrow, that he receiued, he fell downe in a sounde, with­out any remembraunce of himselfe. The Page which Eleno brought with him, did then procure all remedies that were possible for to bring him againe vnto his remembrance, and laboured to doe it with great loue, but yet for all y^t he could do or procure, ther was no possibilitie of his recouery, til such time as Phoebus had made an end of his iourney, & that Dia­na had begun hir gouernment, thē he began to come a litle to himselfe, & looking on the one side, and sawe that Brenio lay dead by his side, with a dolorous voice he said vnto his page. Ah Fabio, wherefore hast thou procured to put remedy vnto my bodye, and consented that it shoulde indure so terrible paine and euill, thou shouldest haue sufferd me to haue dyed, and not to haue ben the occasion that now I liue dying, and hauing no more power to speake, he held his peace. At this time he had great néede of the force and strength of his chri­stian courage, for to assist him that he did not that, which should cause him to beare company with this dead Brenio. His Page Fabio did very much comfort him, and did pro­cure by all meanes to giue him ease: but all that euer he could doo did profit very little, or giue any contentment vnto his paine, till such time as he hearde a greate noyse of armed knights, which was the occasion that he came vnto himselfe, and for that he would not be discouered, he put him selfe into the thickest of the bushes, & with the helpe of Fabio; he carryed Brenio, drawing him from the place wher he was, and couered him with boughes and leaues, till such time as they might haue opportunitie to burie him, as héereafter you shall vnderstand. So there he continued all that night till the [Page 193] morning, with great sorrow and paine, lamenting much his vnhappy lot, in a place whereas he could not be discouerd or heard, not for any feare that was in him, but onely to haue time to lament, weepe & bewaile his vnhappy fortune. Then at such time as the bright Apollo, did spred abroade his gol­den beames, ouer all the fields and cragged mountaines, he did perceiue that those which did lodge themselues nigh vn­to the place wheras he was, did procure to depart, he let them goe, without any desire to know who they were, but rather being still, did let them passe forwards on their way, procu­ring to put in execution his former intent. But first of all he caused to vnarme Brenio of his armour, the which was according vnto his passion, in colour and all things, and as strong as a Diamond, & made by Arte Magicke, with great lamentation he armed himselfe with them, and tooke also his shield, which was all of a russet field, and in the midst ther­of was put Cupide with two faces, the one was very faire and bound with a cloath about his eyes, and the other was made meruailous fierce and furious. He continued and was so long in arming himselfe, that he heard a great number of Knights, which passed along by the sides of the forrest, and amongst them there was a dolorous lamentation, which sée­med to be of Ladyes and Damsels, and it séemed that they were forced and constrained against their wills, which mo­ued the courage of this Dacian, to desire to know what it was. And leaping vpon his horse, his Page tooke the horse of Brenio, which was very good, & with as little noyse as was possible, they went out of the forrest into the high waye, whereas they might sée all that which in the chapter follow­ing shall be told you.

¶How that Eleno went out of the forrest to see the aduenture of those Knightes which passed by the forrest, and how he incountered with them, and of the battaile, that happened therevppon. Cap. 5.

[Page] AT such time as the cléere Apollo had pas­sed one part of his iourney, y^e Dacian prince issued out of the forrest, to sée what it shuld be, that made all that noyse vnder the for­rest side. And there he discouered thirtie Knights, which rode before a chariot, that was drawen with foure horses, and therein a companye of Ladies and damsels, apparailed with meruailous rich robes, making great lamentation and sorrowe: and in the midst amongst them, ther was a very faire Lady, who had before her two childre [...]: and before the Chariot rode a Giant of a fierce and furious countenaunce mounted on a wonderful beast, and after the same went another giant, not altogether so furious as the first, that was mounted on a mightie horse: these made great hast to trauaile forwards. When this va­liant Dacian saw this aduenture, he was in a great confusi­on, for that he found himselfe so leane and weake, yet for all that, the great valour of his person, and courage of his hart, would not suffer anye sluggishnesse, but determined to set them at libertie, and to punish so great outrage, or els to die in the demaunde. And with this determination he said. Let life suffer the paine, and let not the honour be blotted with cowardnesse, and perusing well his armour, he committed himselfe vnto God, and issued out of the forrest with a swift pace, at such time as the Chariot with the great hast that it made, had passed by a good space, and setting spurres, vnto his horse, he made him to flye lyke the winde, and with a high voyce he bad them tarrie. At which calling, the Giant that was hindermost looked backe, and when he sawe that it was a Knight that called him, and that he came running towards him with great swiftnesse, he said vnto those that gouerned the Chariot. Goe and kéepe on your waye, and let me alone to sée what that vnhappie creature would haue: and he turned about his horse, at such time as that warlike Dacian, was come nigh vnto him, the Gyant sayd vnto him: Knight what hast is this that thou makest. The Dacian an­swered: It is to amend if I maye this outrage which I [Page 193] suppose thou dost vnto those Ladyes, which thou dost carrie away with thée in the waggon. The Giant smiling, and as it wer, séeming to haue him in derision, disdainfully sayd. I doo tell thée of a truth knight, that if I did not beléeue, that folly doth make thée to speake that which thou hast vttered, thou mightest well take me to be the vilest person in the world▪ to haue so small courage, to put my selfe before one alone Knight in this demand. The Dacian did well perceiue that these words proceeded of great pride & presumption, and without giuing him any aunswere, he drew out his sharpe sworde, and then without anye more tarrying, he stroke him vpon his helme so great a blowe, that it sounded like a bell, and made him to decline his head downe to his breast. But straight way he had his payment for the same, for that the Gyant layd hold on his great and cutting sword, & with straunge swiftnesse, he stroke him vppon the fine and harde helme, that he almost made him to loose his féeling. By which blow, this couragious Eleno perceiued, that it stoode him in hand, not to be idle, and hauing great feare, that in y^e meane time while they made their battaile, the rest would go away with their pray, and then all his labour and trauayle should be in vaine, he let his shield hang at his backe, and clasped his sword fast with both his hands▪ & stroke him so furious a blow vpon his helme, that the strength therof did litle pro­fit him; for that it was not able to make any defence, but it was cut in péeces with the head, and the Giant fell dead to the ground, & without any more tarying, he followed after the waggon, and did procure to disturbe them, that they should not goe forwards on their way. So all those y^t went with the waggon, were alighted from their horses, ready to imbarke themselues into a small barke which they tarried for, to carry them vnto a great and faire shippe, which was there, a litle farther from the shore. This Dacian called with a loud voice, & said. Tarrie, tarrie, & do not thinke, so much at your ease to carry away your praye, for that I hope first to take away your liues, or els to be slaine in their defence. [Page] And when they saw and knew that it was the Knight that remained with the Giaunt, and séeing him come in such or­der, they were all meruailously astonied. The other Giaunt which was yet still vpon his beast, and was not alighted, re­turned against him, more furious than a Tiger, and vtte­ring a thousand varieties, he asked where he remained that made battaile with him. Don Eleno sayd: Put at libertye these Ladyes which thou dost carry away by force, and aske not for him: for he wanting life, hath finished all his euill déedes and workes, and without tarrying for an aunswere, he lifte vp his sword, all to be bathed with the bloud of the dead Gyant, and stroke at him so terrible a blowe, that hée gaue him to vnderstand very well, the strength of his migh­tie arme. The Giant who felt the blowe to be very strong drew out from his side, a broad and heauie sword, and stroke at him such a blow, that almost it brought him to y^e ground, if it had not bene for the great force, which he put in firming himselfe in his stiroppes, which was the occasion that in a trice he setled himselfe againe in the saddle, & séeing himselfe so euill intreated he pressed towards him, and began to laye on him so sharpe and strong blowes, that he made the sparks of fire flie out of his armour, and although he was meruai­lously occupied in striking of the Gyant, yet did he not for­get to haue alwayes an eie vnto Chariot wheras the captiue Ladies were, to sée if they did procure by anie meanes to do them harme or damage, and he sawe that they went about to take them out of the waggen, and to put them a land, for to imbarke them, which made him to make more hast in his battaile, and knowing the strong enimie, that he had be­fore him, and inraged with that sodaine sight, to sée them im­barking, and that if they should carry them to sea, then by no meanes he could neither fauour nor succour them, he re­ceiued so great wrath, that he threw his shield at his backe and tooke his cutting sword in both his hands, and went vn­to the Giant on his left side, and firming himselfe in his stir­rops, he stroke him so terrible a blow, that he made him to [...]ull vppon his beastes necke, without anye remembraunce, [Page 195] and to void at his mouth and nose great abundance of bloud, and without anie tarrying he spurred his horse and in great hast he went towards those knights that had those Ladies in kéeping, & began to sturre himselfe amongst thē, in such sort, that when they remembred themselues to make resistance, there was thrée of them slaine, then all the rest ioyned them­selues together, & put backe to backe, & made a round circle, with their swords in their hands to make their defence. At this time the prince Eleno had forgot the great vertue which his horse had, but because he wold not y^t they shuld kill him, he alighted from him, the which was the occasion that he put himselfe in great trauaile and perill, notwithstanding with the great anger which he had, he pressed in amongst them, & stroke & wounded them on euery side, without taking anie rest, y^t it was a wonder to sée, and he so besturred & tossed his cutting sword vpon them that made resistaunce, y^t he made them to know and féele his great strength, although that they were chosen & valiant knights, & they did not let to intreate him very euill, in such sort, that many times they made him to stoope & féele the griefe of their blowes: notwithstanding the courage & strength of Eleno was such, y^t in a very short time he brought twelue of them to the ground before him. The marriners which sawe the great furie that was in that one knight, in great hast put of their barke from the waters side, and with the feare which they had likewise to be there slaine, retourned vnto their shippe, forcing their barke with the great strength of their armes, striking in the water with their oares, and when they came to the ship they called aloud giuing & making a great noise vnto the rest of the knightes that were in the ship, which was to the number of twentie, that they shoulde come and giue aide and succour to those which were a land, for that some of them were slaine, & some verie sore hurt, and other some standing stil in their defence. In the meane time this furious Dacian did so behaue him­selfe amongst them, & in such sort, that quickly he had cléered himselfe of all those, if at y^e present time y^e Gyant which was before astonied & beside himselfe, had not come wheras they [Page] were, for being come againe vnto himselfe, and sawe y^e great perill wherein he was brought, I cannot nor am not able to declare héere the great and vnmeasurable furie the which hée had, and it did the more increase in him when he saw so ma­ny knights slaine and dead, onely by the power and strength of that one knight: his wrath was so greate, that he began to cry out against his Gods, and alighted from his beast, & toke his sword into his hand, and with a furious pace hée went towards whereas the Prince was, but when the valiant E­leno sawe him, he could not but thinke that he shoulde passe great trouble with him, notwithstanding for that he sawe no other thing but death amongest those barbarous and rude people, he did determine to sell his life verie déere, & had good regard vnto the blows which the Gyant shuld strike at him, and in the best wise he could he cléered himselfe from them. In this sort went this valiant knight maintaining his quar­rell, & damnifieng his enimies when opportunitie did serue, and alwayes had a good hope to cléere himselfe of that bat­taile, although that there were come a land thrée and twenty other knights, against whom he made his defence at his ple­sure, for that they feared his terrible blowes, and had hurt & wounded them in many parts, although the wounds wer not very great, for that he could neuer fasten on them one blow to his contentment. At this time there came another Gyant a shore out of the barke, which had remained in the ship, and with him came other twentie knights, and thirtie men with hatchets and other weapons, which made great hast to come a land. At such time as this warlyke Dacian was intangled & in battaile with the other, this gyant came before all y^e rest and stroke this knight behinde him so terrible a blow that it made him to bow both his knées to the ground, but his migh­tie courage which in such like chaunces alwaies recouered strength with great hast & a valiaunt heart, he put himselfe a foote againe, and looking about him to sée who it was that so tormented him, he sawe that it was a mightie and terrible Gyaunt, who with a greate clubbe was readie to giue him the second blowe, the Prince with good aduisement did put [Page 196] himselfe a part from the force thereof, and made him to spend his blowe in vaine, and tooke his sworde in his handes, and pressed vnto the Gyant before he could defend himselfe, and stroke him such a terryble blowe vpon the right knée, that he cut it a sunder in the middest, and the heauie and fierce Gy­ant fell dead to the ground. At this time all those that came out of the ship pressed on him for to kill him, that by reason of their thicke and mightie blowes, so many together, he was constrained to fall downe to the earth, but when he saw him­selfe in this great perill, he did procure to kill all that euer he could of them that put themselues before him, which was the occasion that he had space to arise vp againe on foote, and sée­ing himselfe in this great daunger, he began to call vpon Ie­sus Christ, committing vnto him his soule, and besought him that he would take mercie on it, and therwith he pressed vn­to his enimies, and with double force he laide on them on e­uerie side, but all was in vaine for him to make resistance, for that the companie was so great that did compasse him about, striking at him as though they were desperate men, so that this good knight was constrained to retire vnto the sea side, and to put himselfe into the water vp to the wast, whereas he made his backe sure, that they could not come behind him, & there hée made his defence somewhat with lesse trauaile a­gainst them that did procure to offend him: the Gyant which sawe so great a slaughter of men committed by one knight, with a furious voyce retourned vnto the people, and reuiled them, calling them cowardes, and cursing himselfe for that hée woulde accompanie himselfe with so naughtie and vile a generation, and sayde vnto them: Enter into the water and followe him, for it is but one knight that is before you. And therewith he put himselfe into the water, then all the rest for verie shame were constrayned to doe the lyke. At this time this valiant knight sawe himselfe in the greatest daunger that euer before that time in all his life he had bene in, and made not anie reckoning to liue longer, yet neuerthe­lesse he thought to sell his lyfe verie déere, with the death of all such as hée might possiblie fasten one blowe vppon: [Page] But at this instant came vnto his minde his beloued Lidia, and he sayd with a déepe and profound sigh. Ah my Lidia, what great delight doo I féele in my selfe, héere to make my ende, and to set me at libertie of so great sorrow and care, which I doo suffer in not séeing thée: but therewith remem­bring himselfe, he sayd. O Lord what is this, what haue I sayd? I doo finde my selfe at the poynt to be slaine, and doo I now call to remembrance her, that I know is in the depth of the earth. Am not I a Christian? It is better for me to returne vnto thée my God, vnto whom I doo commit my soule: and Lord, for thy mercies sake, doo not looke vpon this my weaknesse, but according vnto thy great mercie take pi­tie vpon me. And although he was weary, yet was not his valiant armes at this time vnoccupied, but rather with a more strength he did procure to defende himselfe, working such wondrous feates, that séemed euen impossible, but vnto them that sawe it. And he recouered vnto himselfe a newe courage and force, in such sort, that the water of the Sea did giue testimoniall of his great prowesse, for that vnto more then ten of them which did pursue him, hée gaue the sea for their sepulchar: and if it had not bene for the Gyaunt that did trouble him very much, he would before he hadde bene slaine, made that very few of the rest should haue remained, for to brag themselues of their victory. But I promise you, he was in such plight, that of very féeblenesse he was forced to make his strength. This wearied Eleno was in this sorte as you haue heard in great weaknesse, and voyde of all hu­mane strength, although he lacked no courage in his heart. At which time there arriued in great hast a barke at y^e shore side, in the which came one alone Knight, armed with verye rich armor, who (if you doo remember) was the valiant Ro­sicleer, that after he had made an ende of that perillous bat­taile at Lira, in the which he lost the company of that good Knight Brandimardo, he full of sorrow and griefe, retourned vnto the sea, whereas by fortune he found his light and in­chaunted barke, which with her accustomed swiftnes did ca­ry him, whereas he saw was made a fearefull battaile, the [Page 197] which was this that héere before I haue tolde you that the afflicted Prince did make. So that when Rosileer sawe that one alone Knight with so great courage did make resistance against so many, who did molest him without all pitie, it mooued in him a desire to helpe him, which straight way he put in vre, and leping a shore with his accustomed courage, he went towards the place whereas they were in battaile, and hauing his sword fast in both his hands, he pressed in a­mongst those vile people, and when he saw that he which did most trouble the Knight, was that furious and diuelish Gi­ant, he stroke him such a blow vpon his left shoulder y^e har­nesse and body altogether he cut downe to the wast, & made him fall dead into the water where he was. Yet his fury re­sted not with this, but striking about him, at foure blowes he brought foure Knights to their end. And as the watered hearbes or flowers doth recreate themselues when they are couered with the beames of the sonne of Tona, in such sort did the Prince Don Eleno reioyce at the comming of this new succour vnlooked for, and therewith recouering newe strength, with one leape he sprong out of the water, and put himselfe by the side of Rosicleer, and layd vpon his enimies, with great and mightie blowes. The worthy Rosicleer be­ing moued with the great outrage that those vile people did, wrought such valiant wonders, that it was to be meruailed at, and vnhappy might he account himselfe, who chaunced to receiue a blow at his hande. They made so great hast in cutting, wounding and killing of those vile people, that lea­uing some dead, and other sore wounded, others running a­way to deliuer themselues from the furie of their vnmer­cifull blowes, these knights wer frée & at libertie of all their former perill. This valyant Eleno would haue gratified the Prince for his good sucour and ayde, and went towards him for the same effect: and when he woulde haue spoken, hée knewe that it was Rosicleer his Cousin, by the deuice that he had in his shielde which was Cupide painted in it, and therewith in greate hast hée pulled off his healme, and sayd.

[Page]Worthy Lord and cousin, if the deuice of your shielde, and the great strength of your person doo not deceiue me, you are Rosicleer sonne vnto the Emperour Trebatio, my good vn­cle. The Greeke was very attentiue vnto the wordes that Eleno spake and when he sawe his face discouered and his his helme off, it séemed vnto him, that he saw the proportion of his owne naturall face, as though he were looking of him selfe in a glasse, and he receiued great contentment at y^e sight of him, although he did very much meruaile to sée him in that place, and therewith he pulled off his healme, and disco­uered that seuere and faire face, with great delight vnto all them that did beholde him, and it was the more to be reioy­ced at, for that they were the one so like the other (that except it were for the little bearde that Rosicleer had) not without great difficultie they could know, which was the one, and which was the other. The two Knights could not perseuer in their communication, for that they were disturbed by the lamentable noyse of those Ladies which were prisoners, for that some of them had their hands bound, & some both hands and féete, and they cryed out for succour and helpe to those Knights, and for that they did see them to prolong the time, they made y^e more hast in crying for their libertie, at whose pitifull cryes they were constrained to goe vnto them, & to cut asunder the cords wherwith they wer bound. The great ioye which they receiued when they sawe themselues at ly­bertie, I do refer it vnto the iudgement and consideration of them, which haue bene themselues in captiuitie, & afterward obtained like libertie. The Ladye which had the two chil­dren in her lap, séeing hir selfe at libertie, with the great ioy thereof, she chaunged a newe coulour, so that the bloud that entred into her face, caused her to appeare to be very faire, & with a seuere Maiestie, she did surrender vnto them greate thanks, for the goodnes, which by them they had recouered. This faire Lady did not let in the meane time whilest they were talking to behold the countenance of the two knights and in her owne imagination did consider, that she saw the naturall proportion and gesture of him, whom she carryed [Page 198] pictured in her heart: and suspecting what it should be, shée gaue very attentiue eare vnto the wordes which Rosicleer vttered, remaining with as great delight of his curtesie and discretion, as when she was whollye yéelded vnto the loue of his father: and for that in the ende of all their talke Ro­sicleer did demaund of her who she was, she could not in a­ny wise do other then tell them, and with great curtesie she aunswered and said. Worthy knightes, in whom the Gods hath made so great equalitie and likenesse, you shall vnder­stand, that I am Quéene and Lady of this Iland called Ti­nacria, who without all good fortune was mocked by y^e false Emperour of Grecia. Rosicleer, when he heard his father so euill spoken off, could not take it in good part, yet remēbring himself that it was a woman, and that she spake it with an­ger, he therefore accordingly did frame himselfe to answere her, and sayd. High and mightie Lady, ther is no reason that I doo aunswere you vnto those words, which your troubled heart hath pronounced against him, that I am sure, and doo right well know, in your seruice would loose his lyfe, & not he alone, but also all his sonnes and subiects, for the greate good wil y^• to you we haue, as it doth appeare in this ayde & succour which now we haue made. And if you doo well con­sider (high and mightie Lady) the great seruice which the no­ble Knight of the Sunne, and sonne vnto the Emperour my father, being accompanied with the Prince Don Eleno our Cousin, who is héere now present before thée. If as I saye, it were well considered, the seruice which they haue done vnto you, it wer great reason and with desart, that the error of the father should be forgiuen, if he haue committed any. And if these be not sufficient to make satisfaction, take in company with y^e rest, y^t which now at this present, was she­wed vnto thée, whereof part of it was done likewise by his sonne Rosicleer. And if it be so, that still your hart be harde­ned with the desire to take reuengement. Behold héere Lady my head y^t which I do yéeld into thy power, that thou maist therewith set the father at libertie, from thy fury.

The Quéene had her eyes fixed on y^e Prince, & without [Page] hauing anie power to make resistaunce against so terrible a blowe: she did shew verie plainely and cléerely what she felt in her, and giuing a great sigh which procéeded from y^e bot­tome of her heart, she sayd: Alasse for me, O fortune, canne this be true, that that which I receiued for glorie, is conuer­ted into a troublesome paine. So she sayd no more, for that she was disturbed by a great noise which a damsell made, by reason of two men, who when they sawe y^• Rosicleer & Don Eleno were occupied in talking with the quéene, they went running to put themselues into the barke of the Prince, and procured to put it from y^e shoare, thinking to saue their liues in rowing awaie with the Barke. And when Rosicleer sawe them, not hauing anie time to put on his helme, he carried it in his hand, and leapt out of the waggen, as light as a Hart amongest the cragged mountaines, and in a trice hée was with them, yet the strength of those two men was not suffi­cient to launch the barke from the shoare, the which Rosi­cleer had forgotten, and for couetousnesse that he would not loose his horse, he went to disturbe them, and leapt into the Barke: he was no sooner within it, when that with his accu­stomed swiftnesse the barke began to mooue it selfe from the shoare, the which when these two men sawe, they woulde haue leapt into the water, but Rosicleer caught fast holde of the one, and staide him, but the other he could not, for that it was so quickly done. Whereas we will leaue them for to tell you of his cousin, who when he sawe that the Barke so sodeinely did departe awaie, I cannot héere declare the great heauinesse and sorow that he receiued, because he could not delight himselfe in his good companie. The like sorrowe made the Quéene (although she did procure to hide her de­sire) yet her sorrow was great, and because Don Eleno was the first that did begin the battaile for to set them at libertie, they did honour and worshippe him as a diuine thing. And héerewith they determined to returne vnto the Citie, where­as I will leaue them with the successe of the quéenes impri­sonment, and the occasion thereof, for that héereafter I will declare it, being now constrained to tell you of the worthye [Page 199] déedes of the Mauritanian.

How when the valiant Mauritanian had slaine the Tartari­an Zoylo, he put on the armour of Bramarant, for that he would not be knowen, and of all that happened therein. Chap. 6.

YOU doe well remember when that the fu­rious young man Brufaldoro fled away from the battaile, not for anie feare that he had, but for anger to finde himselfe in place whereas he could get but little honour, like a whirle winde he crossed ouer all those plaines, & put himselfe into the thickest of the forrest, trauailing in vaine his faultlesse horse, and neuer rested till he came vnto the mightie great riuer the which before he had passed, & there he alighted off from his horse, and for to refresh himselfe he pulled off his healme, and tooke water with his handes and washed his face, and dronke thereof, refreshing himselfe, and as he found himselfe all alone, there came vnto him manye thoughts, amongst all he was greatly gréeued at the remem­braunce of that which had past, and the more, for that a wo­man was the cause of all that harme, and with great anger giuing terrible sighs, he began to curse, not alone the houre of his birth, but also the quéene of Tinacria, accounting women to be all the occasion therof: lykewise he considered the great trauaile and sorrow that most knights doe passe for their re­spects. At that time Phoebus began to withdrawe himselfe into his accustomed lodging, and hiding himselfe in the occi­dentall partes, and therewith drewe on the darke and tene­brous night, which was the occasion that his paine did the more increase, and caused him to saie: Oh cruell and vile women, the causers and authors of all euill, what doo you sée in your selues, that you doe make so much thereof, I sée that you are good for no other thing, but to cause murthers and great treasons. It is possible that you doe estéeme so of your selues, and the occasion of your high lookes is, for that wée [Page] men be borne of you: if you doe well conside [...] thereof, for the verie same occasion you shoulde abate your greate pride and pranking iestures, for that we doe plainely sée and perfectly know, that from and out of an vnprofitable & pricking [...]lke doth spring and grow a faire and plesant rose. Also from that venimous Basiliske, doe they not take a stone of [...] innume­rable value: and this beléeue of a certeintie, that the euyllest men doth all procéede from you: Oh wretches, when you sée your opportunitie, what is the knight that canne make resi­staunce, but is straight ouercome by you so vile and base cre­atures, héere I doe sweare to you by all the Gods, that I do not honour you, neyther wil I reuerence you, although that Mahomet doe commaund me, for that I haue him in estima­tion as vile and base and of no value, and for the great hatred which I doe beare vnto you, if I did thinke that my heart should be subiect vnto you, I woulde pull it out of my bodie with great crueltie, to punish my selfe and it for committing so great foolishnesse. The sighs of this Moore were so great & terrible, that all the woodes and mountaines did sound there­of. O thou outragious and hardie Pagan, how strong and stout doest thou shew thy selfe, thou shalt quickly know and haue thy payment for these thy reuiling wordes, in subiecting thy selfe vnto them, that nowe thou doest publish for false. O Ladyes and Damsells aske reuengement of so cruell an eni­mie, that with so many reasons doth reuile you all to naught. So with these lamentations the which I haue tolde you the Pagan passed awaie the night till the morning, that Apollo began with his glistering beames to couer all the earth, the which béeing séene by the Pagan, with a trise he arose vp, and tooke his horse for to prosecute his iourney begun, and lifting vp his eyes towardes the heauens, he did discouer hanging vpon a high and mightie pine apple trée which was nigh him the armour of Bramarant, which was put there for a remem­braunce, as hath bene tolde you in the first part of this histo­rie. The armour had all lost their coulour, yet for all that, it did shewe the great value of them, and looking about, he sawe the Epitaph which the two bretheren had made there. And [Page 199] vnderstanding the reason thereof, it gaue him a farther de­sire to take them downe, without respecting the harme that might thereof procéed, not making anie reckoning of y^e words that were there manifested. And for that he might the better bring to passe his pretence, he vnarmed himselfe, and climbed vpon the trée, and tooke them from the place where they wer and brought them downe, and when he was below, and saw the armour to be so good, he armed himselfe with them, and when he lacked no more to put on but his healme, he hearde y^e voyce of a knight which sayd: Be not so hardie thou knight as to vndoo this Tropheo, erected by the Gréeke Princes, and looke well to thy selfe for thou shalt die for the same. The Moore at the noise which he made, east his head on the one side and sawe that he that spake those words was a well set and armed knight, but for all this he did not let to make an ende of arming himselfe, and without setting his foote into the sti­rop he leapt into the saddle, and setteling himselfe therein hée went towards the demaunder with his sword in his hande. You shall vnderstand, that he which did threaten him was the Tartarian Zoylo, who if you do remēber departed in great hast from the amorous Tigliafa, and vnawares entered into this wildernesse, and by reason of his wearinesse in making so great hast in his trauaile, it caused him to be verie drie, and hauing great desire to drinke, he crossed héere and ther in the forrest, at last there appeared before him a verie auncient old man, who had his beard and haire all white with age, who did succour him with water, and gaue him a great cup full, & with the great thirst that Zoylo had he dranke well thereof, till such time as he felt himselfe satisfied, and returned the cup againe vnto him, and when he thought to haue giuen thanks for his curtesie shewed, he was vanished cleane out of his sight, so that he sawe him no more. For you shall vnderstand that it was y^e wise Lirgandeo, which brought y^e cup ful of wa­ter from y^e fountain of Merlin, who vnderstanding by his in­chantments y^e thirst Zoilo had, brought him of y^e water, for so mitigate his drinesse, increasing in him a new desire to the loue of Tigliafa. He had scant made an ende of drinking [Page] when that he felt in himselfe a new thought of loue, and re­penting himselfe of all hatred past, béeing ouercome by y^e wa­ter, and fixed in that new loue, he determined to retourne a­gaine vnto Constantinople, and craue pardon of the Prin­cesse, but that cruell Atropos who had his blow readie, wold not graunt vnto him anie time for the same, neither was the wise Lyrgandeo able to deliuer him from the death. And so it fell out, that when he woulde haue made his retourne to Constantinople, he chaunced to come to that place whereas Bramarant did kill himselfe, and whereas Brufaldoro did dis­arme himselfe, and armed himselfe againe with the armour of the Tropheo. And the valiaunt Tartarian knowing the great harme that would procéede vnto them which did pro­cure to come vnto the Tropheo, he woulde giue aduisement vnto him that was so bolde to giue the attempt, y^t hée might vnderstand, that it would be demaunded at his hand. And so he did aduise Brufaldoro in that sort as you haue heard, who without anie aunswering came against him with his sword in his hand, inuiting him to mortall battaile. Zoylo who sawe his determination, did procure to defend himselfe and of­fend his enimie. Oh my Muse, that nowe I had so much dis­creation and eloquence for to set out and declare the greate harme that this daie happened in this vnfortunate Forrest. This valiant Tartarian when his enimie came vnto him, stroke him so terrible a blowe vpon the visour of his helme that with the furie thereof he made sparkles of fire to issue out thereof with great abundaunce, and to bowe downe his head vpon his breast. The Pagan did returne vnto him his salutation, and stroke him such a blowe vpon his helme, that with the great noise therof it made a sound in all the moun­taines. Now began betweene them a meruailous and feare­full battaile, at the great noise whereof, Fortune willing to vse her extremitie, for to amplifie a farther euill, caused the Princesse. Tigliafa in the companie of her Ladyes and Dam­sells to come vnto that place whereas these knightes were, in [...]attaile, and straight waie she did knowe her welbeloued Tartarian and séeing him in so dangerous a battaile, she was [Page 193] in great anguish with her selfe. These Knights thought on no other thing, but either of them procured to bring his ad­uersarie to his ende, striking at eache other suche terrible blows, and with so great fury, that many times it made ey­ther of them to loose his féeling: and both séeing the greate force of one another, were meruailously incensed with an­ger. This fierce Tartarian threw his shield at his backe, that with more force he might strike and hurt his enemie, and therewith gaue him so strong a blow vpon his helme, that all astonied he forced him to fall vpon the crupper of his horse, who carried him a great space round about the fielde, without any féeling. But when he came againe vnto him­selfe, this fierce Mauritanian setling himselfe in his saddle, stroke at y^e Tartarian so terrible a blow, that if it had chan­ced on him, it would haue turned him to much griefe, but with great discretion he cléered himselfe therof, in such sort, that it was stroken in vaine, and with great lightnesse, hee retourned, and stroke the Mauritanian so, that he made him once againe to fall vpon the crouper of his horse all astony­ed, and there appeared by the visour of his helme, the abun­daunce of bloud that issued out of his mouth, and his horse béeing gréuéd with that blow, stooped with his forefeete to the ground, and being amazed, with great fury he rose vp & with his great kicking and flinging backwards, he did de­fend, that the Tartarian could not come nigh to hurt y^e Mau­ritanian, which was the occasion that he could not haue any time for to giue him the second blowe, although he neuer left to follow him, to see if he could make an end of y^e enter­prise, which would haue made much of his part, not to haue giuen way that this fierce Mauritanian should haue retour­ned to himselfe so quickly which was in so short time, and with so great anger, that the smoake which came from his mouth, seemed like a myst about his helme, so that almost it could not be seene. Then this furious diuell set spurres to his horse, & blaspheming against his Gods, hauing his mor­tall sword very fast in his hande, he ranne towards his eni­mie, who without any feare of his fury, went forth to re­ceiue [Page] him, and when they met together, they discharged their blowes at once, but it fortuned that the Mauritanians blow did first fasten, with so great strength, that for all the helme which Zoylo had was so good, it was not sufficient to make defence, but that with the diuellish furie wherwith it was dis­charged, it bended, in such sorte, that it brake all to péeces the scalpe of that vnhappie Tartarian, wherewith he gaue a ter­rible fall to the ground. So when the Pagon sawe his eni­mie on the earth, with a loude voyce he sayde: Nowe shalt not thou bée he that shall disturbe mée, that I carrie not this armour with mée. This sadde and heauie Princesse when she sawe her swéete and welbeloued friende on the earth, with great suspition what was happened, beganne to wéepe bitterly. And as a Lyon who séeing before her her young Lyon euill intreated of the hunter: euen so she leapt from her Palfraie and ranne vnto her welbeloued Zoylo, and with greate spéed shée pulled off the healme from that woun­ded head, and with a fayre linnen cloth she wiped of the bloud from his mortall face, and when she was certaine that it was hée that cost her so déere the séeking, and that he was without lyfe, with furious madnesse she tore her attire from her head, and all to rent her golden haire, tearing it in pée­ces, and retourned againe and wiped that infernall face, ma­king such sorrowfull lamentation, that whosoeuer had seene her woulde haue bene moued to haue had compassion. Then shée tooke the head betwéene her handes, and did procure without dooing it anie harme to lifte it vp, and to put it vp­pon her lappe, and séeing for all this that there was no moo­uing in him, she ioyned her face vnto the face of that vnfor­tunate Zoylo, and with sorowfull wordes shée sayd: Oh my loue, open thine eyes and beholde me, open them, I saie, and looke vppon this thy Ladie most vnfortunate, and while lyfe remaineth giue mée some contentment, if fortune be so fa­uourable: Oh my Lorde, strengthen thy selfe to looke vpon me, wherein I shall receiue such delight, that willinglye I will beare thée companie: Ah Zoylo and my onely loue, sée­ing that in former time my teares were not sufficient to re­claime [Page 194] thée in anie parte, make me satisfaction for the greate trauaile which I haue taken in séeking thée out, come nowe in death and inioye this thy vnfortunate louer, and dye not without séeing me, open these eyes and beholde mée, giue me I praie thée some comfort: Ah my Lorde, I know not whe­ther in séeing me thou shalt receiue paine, or no, for that at a­nie time thou neuer delightedst in anie thing that was mine, but now I will gratifie thée in dying with thée, and séeing that in thy lyfe time I coulde not reioyce in thée, nor haue anie companie with thée, I will now in thy death séeke thée, and peraduenture thou wilt nowe haue more pittie on mée. The Princesse sorrowfull lamentations and greate wee­pings were such, that she almost sounded. But this discom­forted Ladie comming to her selfe and sawe that her loue made no appearaunce of lyfe, shée beganne againe to wipe his face, for that it was againe all to bée bathed with bloud, and with her white hande she felt his eyes and mouth and all his face and his head, till such time as shée chaunced to put her hande on the mortall wounde, and when shée knew that there was all the harme, she held her hand still, and loo­king on him whether he mooued or no, with the greate feare which she had that he woulde die, without giuing her anye comfort to speake vnto her, she made a meruailous and great lamentation, and cryed out with terrible shrikes, the which did augement much heauinesse and sorrowe in them which were in companye with the Princesse, and she sayd. Ah my loue, how many troubles and great trauailes haue I passed in seeking thee, by mountaines and hils, by vallies, wilde fields and high wayes, watering them with my amo­rous teares, alwayes demaunding for thee, and alwayes in vaine calling thée, yet was I neuer desolate of the true loue which I bare vnto thée: Oh howe many times in cal­ling for thée, haue I bene answered by the ecko, which was vnto me great dolor and griefe, and nowe that fortune hath brought me into the same place whereas thou art, for to re­create and reioyce my selfe with thy beutie, the same fortune [Page] would that it should be for the more increasing of my do­lour and griefe, in finding thée in this sort, as now thou art. Oh cruell Fortune, I haue not deserued to be thus ingrate­fully vsed at thy hands: for when I thought to be cléere of all sorrow and trouble, now I finde my selfe most afflicted therewith. Ah my Lord, séeing that in thy lyfe time thou gauest me so bitter and euill a life, for that thou didst hate & abhorre me, now in thy death giue me some comfort. Open these swéete eyes and behold me, lift vp this wounded head and giue me some comfort before thou dyest. Ah Zoylo my ioye, if euer thou didst beare me any loue, it is now time to giue me to vnderstand thereof, before thy soule depart from thy body, and in saying these lamentable words, she was constrained to hold her peace, for that she saw that this woū ­ded Tartarian recouered some strength: who opened his eyes, and when he sawe himselfe in the armes of her, who at that time he so much loued, & before by force of inchaunt­ment he hated, he sodainly arose vp, and recouering strength he sate himselfe on the ground, and cast his armes aboute the white necke of the Princesse, and they ioyned theyr faces the one with the other, distilling betwixt them manye salt and bitter teares, in such sort, that it would haue moued the wilde beasts vnto compassion, and with a féeble & weake voice this vnfortunate Prince sayde: Ah my Ladie and mi­stres, let me recreate and comfort my selfe in inioyeng this thy mouth, the time that I shall remaine aliue, and be­fore that my soule doth depart the company of this my bo­dy: giue me my Lady some comfort, doe not make any ex­cuse, although without all reason, I haue bene pitilesse vn­to thée, in making thee to trauaile with great sorow, séeking him, y^t because he would not see thée fled alwaies in shunning thée, & now I come to desire thée. Héere must you shew me in what estimation you had me in, in giuing me succour, before that I do leaue thée in this wildernesse alone, with my dead bodie colde and wan: Oh my loue giue me a thousand kisses, let me onely haue this delight, for the little time I haue to tary, & afterward I desire thée, to giue my body his sepulchar. [Page 211] This sad and discomforted Ladie answered: Ah Zoilo, what doest aske of me, what wouldest that I shuld giue thée, I al­wayes was thine, I haue nothing of mine owne, I am all thine, it were now a straunge thing to beginne a new to loue thée, for all that euer I could giue thée, I gaue it thee long ere this, oh my loue, why doest thou not vnderstand this: alasse what shall I saie, I that am without all good fortune, for now I sée that thy time draweth on, & that my contentment, ioy, and comfort is verie short: Ah my Lord, dost thou request of me to giue thy bodie a Sepulchre: well, I see that it is requi­site to séeke some to giue it vnto vs both. And without strēgth to procéede anie farther in spéeches, she kissed the face of her welbeloued & so long desired Zoilo, with great sobbing & sighs making within her selfe a terrible conflict, tarrying for the answere of her welbeloued friend, who with no lesse paine & anguish of death sayd: Ah my Ladie and mistres, I do know that thou wert alwaies mine, & I thine. That which I will now desire of thée, is, for that I was beloued of thée in my life time, that now in my death I may be fauoured of thée. Oh cruell loue, oh what a wish is this, a case neuer the like heard of before, that I shuld desire the death of her that so long time hath trauailed and taken paines and sorrowes with terrible wéepings and sighs for my sake. Ah my mistres, how happie shoulde I be, that thus imbracing one in the others armes we might depart together: Oh what a happie death would it be, oh swéete Fortune, I haue no other griefe with me but to leaue thée behinde me: Oh vnhappie that I am, I neuer de­termined to desire thy death, but nowe, and onely for that I woulde not leaue thy companie. The Princesse béeing very much troubled with griefe and sorrowe, aunswered him and sayde: Oh my loue, therein take thou neyther griefe nor care, for héere. I dooe promise thée by the greate loue that I doe beare vnto thee, that if death doe shew himselfe any thing contrarie vnto mée, that I will procure it with mine owne handes, for that the Gods will not consent that I should liue and thou die, therefore I saye, that if hée doe contrarie mée, I will giue thee this contentment, for that without thée I shall [Page] finde héere no ioye nor comfort at all for me, neyther yet any ease of this my great griefe, so that I shall thinke it for the best to loose all my ioye, and now I doe finde in my selfe that death will be my friend. Ah my swéet loue and Lord, ioyne thy face vnto mine, let vs kisse together, and let vs make our departure both together. The Prince béeing troubled with the anguish of his hastie death, sayd: Héere I doo desire thée my Tigliafa, by y^e firme & faithfull loue which thou doest beare me, not to consent that I be the occasion, that with a cruell death thou doest finish thy life, but to sustaine & main­taine it so long as the Gods doth permit the same, and when that I am dead (which shall be verie quickly) let me receiue this fauour at thy handes, that thou wouldest vouchsafe to giue a Sepulchre vnto this my bodie, for with great ease and comfort shall I depart, séeing that I die in the armes of my Ladie and mistres, and a greate deale more comfort shall I receiue if I knew of a certaintie that thou woldest performe this, that I doe craue and desire at thy hands: Oh my loue, doe not denie this my supplication, and for that I am certi­fied that thou wilt performe the same, héere I take my leaue of thée, farewell, the Gods preserue thée, and take me to theyr mercies. And when he sayde these wordes, he inclined his necke vpon the face of the Princesse. When this sorrowfull Ladie sawe that the soule had got the victorie and departed from the bodie, she kissed the mouth of the dead bodie, and giuing déepe and dolorous sighes, she beganne a meruailous and heauie lamentation, calling her selfe vnhappie and vnfor­tunate, and laide her selfe vppon the dead bodie, cursing her selfe so that it was lamentable to [...]eare. All her Damosells (who did beare her companie in that great sorrowe) when they sawe theyr Ladie in a sound, they tooke the healme of the dead knight, & brought water in it from the Riuer side, and in throwing of it in her face, and all to be bathed her therewith, they brought her againe vnto her remembraunce, who beganne a newe to make greate lamentation, and to be­waile her ill fortune, vttering wordes of greate dolor and [Page 212] griefe, which procéeded from the bottome of her heart, and sayde: Ah my good friend, what small benefite haue I recey­ued for all my trauaile and paine, the which I haue suffered in séeking of thée, and nowe in finding of thée it is the more for my griefe, for that I came to sée thée die: Ah most vnhap­pie that I am, where was I when I sawe descend vpon thée that mortall sworde? Whereon was my thought? Where­fore did I stand still, and did not with great lightnesse make resistaunce against that terrible blowe? And if my strength woulde not haue serued me, yet at the least I shoulde haue borne thée companie: Ah you furious beastes, that now are hidde in your dennes and déepe caues, where are you nowe? Why doe you not come and take pittie of my griefe, and put remedie therein, in taking awaie my life, for in so doing you shall shewe your selues pittifull, for that I doe abhorre this dolorous lyfe. Yet she did not forget the promise the which she made vnto her welbeloued Zoylo, which was the occasi­on that she did somewhat cease her lamentation. And taking vnto her selfe more courage then her dolorous griefe did consent vnto. With the helpe of her Damselles, she put the dead bodie vnder that greate and mightie Pine apple trée, where the armour did hang, commanding some of those that were with her, that they should goe vnto those villages that wer nigh at hand, to cause some people to come thether, [...]hat they might with as greate spéede as was possible, make a ve­rie sumptuous péece of worke, in the which they shoulde bu­rie the dead bodie of Zoylo, the which was the occasion that in Constantinople they did knowe of the death of this vn­happie knight, and when the Emperour and all those that were in the court did knowe of it, they were meruaylous sorrowful for the same, for that hée was welbeloued of them all. That same daie came likewise newes to the Court of the restoring againe of the kingdome of Lyra, which cost the lyfe of the Prince Brandimardo, which was the occasi­on that they made no triumph nor reioycing of that greate victorie, but rather a double lamentation for the death of the Prince.

[Page]The Dutchesse did then prouide for her departure, as it was determined, leauing the Court in great heauines The death of the Prince Zoylo was published all about, and the occa­sion thereof, insomuch that it came vnto the knowledge of the Emperour Alphebo of Trapisond, which was the occa­sion of great griefe in the Emperour: but he did dissemble it in the best wise he could, with intent to reuenge the same. Whereas we will leaue them vntill time shall serue: and I will also omit at this time the great worke which y^e prin­ces Tigliafa caused to be made, for that héere I will tell you what the Pagan Brufaldoro did.

¶How the fierce Brufaldoro, hauing spoken euill of women, and of them that are louers, was taken in the snares of loue with a Ladye that hee met, after that he finished the battaile with Zoylo. Cap. 7.

ALl the day after that Brufaldoro had finished the battaile with Zoylo, he trauailed through the thickest of the forrest, being very wearye of the troublesome iourney, till such time as the darke night drew on, and what with we­rines, and with the great desire he had to eate which did trouble him very much, he was constrained to a­light from his horse by the riuers side, whereas he remay­ned till such time as the morning came, and rising on foote for to begin to take his iourney, being halfe amazed in behold­ing the great calme and quietnesse, which was in the riuer, and the little noyse which it made, by reson of y^e great depth thereof in that part, vpon a sodaine in the midst of the riuer he saw that the waues did increase & arise vp, like as though it had bene taken with a whirlwinde or tempest, which cau­sed the water to make a great noyse, and being verye desi­rous to sée what was the occasion of that great and sodaine change in the water, he beheld that it was a Nymph, which appeared in his sight from vnder the water, who did showe her selfe to the breasts, in discouring them vnto him, and her [Page 213] face was so faire, that in his life, he had not séene the like, and the whitenesse of her flesh was such, that the snowe in comparison to her, was obscure and darke. The Pagan re­ceiued no alteration at this sodaine sight, but the Nymph with a meruailous swéete and delicate voyce, began to sing these few verses following.

When she had made an ende of her song, without anye more tarrying, with a furious force, she threw her selfe in­to the water againe, from whence she came, leauing the Pa­gan much amazed: but by reason that the force of his sto­macke was such, he determined to let it passe, & to thinke no more thereof, beléeuing that it was some inchauntment, and hauing his heart at libertie, with a light courage, without putting his foote in the stirrop, he leapt vpon his light horse, and laying the bridle vpon his necke, he let him goe at his [Page] [...] [Page 213] [...] [Page] owne libertie, whether he would, without gouerning him. So his horse brought him into a great plaine, where a farre off he discouered an armed Tent pitched, which séemed to be faire and rich, and by it vpon the gréene grasse, ther lay foure great Gyants, who had in the midst among them, a verye faire Damsell, who was very heauie and sorrowfull, lean­ing her chéeke vpon her hand. The Pagan being nothing a­fraid of the Giants, did kéepe his way, till such time as hée came whereas the Giants were laid, and he came so nigh, that he might sée the face of the Damsell, which séemed not to be any humane creature, by reason of her excellent beau­tie, with hir golde yeolow haire dispersed all vpon her backe, and her Lilly white hand whereon she leaned her chéeke, dis­couering her faire face, with her eyes shut, which showed her well set browes, from vnder which, distilled many toares which séemed to be orientall pearles, dispersed vpon her faire and white face, and sundry times giuing déep and sorrowfull sighes, which declared the great paine and griefe that she did suffer. The Pagan when he saw her great beautie and fair­nesse, vpon a sodaine his hart wounded with the cruell dart of Cupide, in such sort, and with so great fury, that nothing could giue him ease thereof, but onely death: wherewith hée straight remembred, that which of late he heard the Nimph to sing, and considered within himselfe, how her words and threatenings chaunced to fall out true, which caused him to giue a terrible sigh, whereat one of the Giants did awake, & setting himselfe vppon the grounde, he sayd. How hast thou bene so hardie, that thou darest to put thy selfe before vs, & without any feare of our great strength, thou [...]ast shewed signes and tokens of loue. At these words which the Giant spake, this Lady did open her eyes, and when she saw y^e Pa­gan, she coulde not refraine her selfe so much to holde her peace, but that she must néedes giue a sigh, wherat this fierce Moore was fully certified that she was forced by those Gy­ants, and with that thought he sayd.

Gyaunt, my déedes shall beare witnesse of these thy proud words: therefore, for that the time shall not passe a­way, [Page 214] and be spent in reasonings, one thing I doo demaund of thée, whether this sorrowfull and wéeping Lady goeth with you, of her owne proper good will, or els constrained by your force and violence. The Gyaunt with greate pride put himselfe on foote, and in lacing and making fast his helme, he sayd. My sword shall wholly and fully certifie thée, of all that which thou dost demaund, and in speaking these words, the one pressed towards the other. But the Pagan for that he would not that he should kill his horse, was constrained to put himselfe somewhat on the one side, and lighting from the saddle, he lefte his horse alone, and layde hold vppon his sword, wherewith his enimie stroke at him a mightie & ter­rible blow, who with a strange lightnesse caused it to be stro­ken in vaine, in stepping on the one side, and therewith hée closed with the Giant, and threw at his breast so terrible & strong a foyne, that his armour was not sufficient for to make resistaunce, but that the fury thereof must be executed, and pearced him thorough vnto the backe, wherewith y^e Gi­ant gaue a terrible fal to the ground, at which noyse y^e other thrée Giants did awake, and one of them put himself quick­ly on foote, and without tarrying for to put on his healme, or to take his shield, but blaspheming against his Gods, he ran against the Pagan, who abode his comming with such like courage, as his presumption did require. The Giaunt with both his hands, stroke at him so monstrous a blow, that if it had chaunced on him, it would haue put his life in great ieo­pardie. But this valiant Brufaldoro with his accustomed pollicie, did cléere himselfe from the same. The great & broad sword of y^e Giant had not so soone passed downe, when y^e Pa­gan pressed vnto the Giant, before he had any leasure to lift it vp again, & with an ouerthwart blow, he stroke him with so great strength vpon the head, that all from the eares vp­wardes, he brought vnto the earth, wherewith the Gy­aunt fell downe dead to the ground, whose fall was so ter­rible and made so great a noyse, that it séemed a mightye towre had tumbled downe: whosoeuer at that time hadde some that faire Ladie, might verie well [...]haue discouered the [Page] great ioy that her heart receiued to sée two of those of her e­nimes dead before her, and did not let to praie vnto her Gods for the accomplishment of the whole victorie against y^e other two which remained. And therewith the other Gyant lyke a furious Lyon blaspheming against his cursed Gods, not tar­rying to arme himselfe with more armour then at that pre­sent he had, for that there they were all with their healmes vnlased and from their heads, he tooke holde of a great & hea­uie club that was there with both his hands, and pressed for­wards with a large pace against the Pagan, with determina­tion to take reuengement of the others death, but this young furious Brufaldoro did tarrie and receiue him with his accu­stomed courage and valiauntnesse, the fearefull Gyaunt did strike at him so terrible a blow with his club, that swinging with it in the aire it made a fearefull sounde, but the Pagan, who without all feare did abide the comming of the blowe, determined with himselfe to let it passe in vaine, as hee hadde all the rest before, and so it fell out, that when he sawe the blowe descend he stepped on the one side, in such sort, that the club fell to the ground, with so terrible a waight & strength, that the blowe made all the trées that were nigh at hande to tremble. This terrible blowe was no sooner passed to y^e earth when that this valiant Mauritanian stroke a blowe at his armes, which was with so great strength, that he cut them both off by the wristes, and his hands béeing fast to y^e club, they fell all to y^e ground. The Gyant who felt himselfe woun­ded & lame, would haue imbraced with the Pagan, thinking by his great strength to haue crushed him to death, but this Mauritanian with great valiantnesse did put himselfe before him, his sword in his hand with the point forwardes, so that the Gyant (with the great paine that he felt of his wounds, and the great anger he had in his heart,) without anie consi­deration he pressed himselfe forwardes, & the Pagan followed in his determination in such sort, that the sword entered in­to the Gyants bodie vp to the hard hilts, falling downe dead to the ground, with no lesse noise then the rest. Then y^e fourth Gyant which remained, did put himselfe on foote, who was [Page 199] of a greater and huger stature and bignesse then the other which were dead, and taking in his hand a great and mighty speare which laie on the ground by him, with a terrible and fearefull voice he sayd: O thou infernall diuell, for that thou canst not be other, séeing thou hast slaine my three compani­ons, for I tell thée that the Gods in the heauens did tremble for feare of them. Héere I doe promise thée that thou shalt not depart without thy reward and punishment, neyther I without taking vengeaunce of thée. The valiant Moore who verie well heard and vnderstoode his wordes, made little ac­count of his proude spéech, but sayd: Make an end thou furi­ous diuell and come vnto the battaile, delaie not I saye, that thou mayst beare these thy companions companie. Then the Gyant lifted vp his arme aboue his head, hauing fast in his hande that greate and mightie Speare, which was all full of knots, with the barke remaining still thereon, and threw it at him with so great strength, that it made a meruailous sound in the aire, but this valyant Mauritanian was not without great care of the comming thereof, but with a counter pace he put himselfe on the one side, with so greate pollicie, that the blowe passed on the one side, and the Speare stuck fast in the ground, and by reason of the greate force wherewith it was throwen, it made it to shake as though it would haue flowen in a thousand péeces, and turning round like a Snake when she doth make hast to goe awaie from him that woulde kill her. Then the strong and stout Mauritanian being very ire­full, to sée so great villanie, he ranne vnto the speare, and with great strength he pulled it out of the ground, and in throw­ing it againe at the gyant, he said: O thou furious beast, take vnto thée thy dart. It did wel appeare that it was not throw­en by a sluggish arme, for that by reason of the great strength striking on his shéeld it pearced it through, yet it did not ther remaine, but likewise pearced his armour and shirt of maile and neuer stayed till such time as it shewed it selfe at his backe all to be bathed with bloud, wherewith the Gyant fell downe dead to the ground, whose fall was so terrible that it made the earth tremble, and all the trées that were there a­bout [Page] to shake as though they woulde haue fallen downe▪ When Brufaldoro saw that the foure gyants were dead, who wer the kéepers of that faire ladie, he went towards her, who was alreadie on foote abiding his comming. The valyaunt Moore did pull of his healme, and did discouer his face, which did represent a great maiestie & seueritie, such as his state did require, and although he was of a great stature & bignesse of bodie, yet his faire face did giue greate delight vnto all them that did beholde it, and when he came nigh vnto the faire la­die, he knéeled downe on the ground and said: Faire Ladie, I know not whether you are discontented, or haue receiued a small benefit or seruice in this which I haue done, but of this be you assured, that my determined thought was to doe you seruice, beléeuing that so faire a Ladie shoulde not with her good will keepe companie with so monstrous people: she with with great curtesie did aunswere him & sayd: Gentle knight I cannot denie but that I was constrained by force to kéepe companie with these proude and ill conditioned Gyants, and much lesse can I kéepe in secret the great ioy which I haue to finde my selfe at libertie and cléere from them, but one thing there is which I doe greatly feare, that is, that nowe I falling into thy hands and power, I dread to come into a new prison, therefore I beséech you to giue me frée libertie, with the seguritie which belongeth vnto my honour. The Pagan who was verie attentiue vnto the words of the Ladie, would haue made her answere, but this faire lady did disturbe him, desiring him first to sit downe by her, for that she was per­swaded that with the great trauaile which he had taken in the battaile with the Gyants, it could not be but that he was wearie, and therewith taking him fast by both the hands she made him to sit downe, to whom Brufaldoro sayd: Ah fayre Ladie if I did knowe that my heart were as frée and cléere of your loue, as you are sure of me for offering you anie vio­lence, then with great reason I might account my selfe hap­pie, as well in the doing of your seruice, as in giuing you li­bertie, but I am he Ladie that must aske libertie of your beautie, desiring you not to haue anie doubt of me. So with [Page] déepe & sorrowful sighs this Moore did giue her to vnderstand how his troubled heart was tormented with excessiue loue. The Ladie when she vnderstoode and knewe that she had of him so sure a pawne, was nothing discontent with all, for that he séemed vnto her to be a knight of a verie good disposi­tion and of great value, more then anie other, and for that he shuld receiue some contentment, she answered and sayd: Sir, I am verie well satisfied, that a knight in whom is compre­hended so great beautie, cannot be without the curtesie requi­site in so worthie a warriour, for the which cause I doe deli­berate and put all my honour into your handes, and beléeue me that time shall not lacke to put remedie in this your new griefe and paine, without incurring vnto my selfe anie re­buke, but to maintaine and kéepe my honour, as belongeth vnto the royall bloud from whence I do descend, in y^e meane time gentle knight, I would craue one boone at your hands, which in telling you I would not haue it denied me: Oh how great was the ioye that this valyant Pagan receiued when he vnderstoode so good hope which she pronounced vnto him, and therewith he turned vnto the Ladie, and whether shée would or not, he kissed her hands, with great thanks for the grace and fauour which she shewed him, and therewith re­remembring the wordes which passed by the Nymph at the riuer, he sayd vnto himselfe: How is it that not long since I made a mocke and a iest of the aduice the which was gi­uan me, and now I doo sée that I made a mocke & a iest of the aduice which is turned into good earnest. And in saying these words he returned vnto the Ladie and sayde: What is that faire Ladie that I should binde my selfe vnto you to do, nay what is it, that lying in my power to accomplish, I woulde not do, being wholy yours, for y^e my heart is your prisoner, & my libertie subiect to your wil, so y^t there is no occasion y^t you shuld desire the graunt of me, but commaund me to fulfil all your will and request, but yet fayre Ladie, before that you doe procéede to your request, I doe desire you that I maye know the occasion of your kéeping companie and trauailing with these foure furious Gyants in this Countrie of Grecia. [Page] This wil I declare vnto you with a verie good will answe­red this fayre Ladie. You shall vnderstand that I am daugh­ter vnto the king of the Ilandes of Spaine, my parents had no more daughters but I alone, the which was the occasion that I was the more made off and estéemed of them. And by reason of my beutie, they put me into a strong tower, which was nigh the sea side, whereout many times for my recrea­tion I issued in companie with many Ladyes and Damsells, which were with me to beare me companie: so it chaunced one day when I was abroad in my accustomed recreation & sport, I was beset with this infernall companie, who carried me into their mightie and strong shippe in this order as you doe sée me, whereas I did no other thing but lament and be­waile my sadde and heauie misfortune. So the first Gyaunt which you did kill, séeing me make so great lamētation, with louing and amorous wordes did procure to comfort me, and did offer me, that all which was my will to be done, he wold fulfill the same, and I séeing his greate curtesie, and agayne, that my remedie was so farre from me, vpon a sodaine ther came a thought into my minde, which I supposed to be ve­rie good and requisite for to redresse my harme & griefe, and I desired of him to graunt me a boone, this gyant did graunt me my request, and the rest did promise to fulfill all that I would aske them, and my demaund was, that they shoulde carrie me vnto Grecia, vnto the court of the Emperour Tre­batio, and that they should for the space of twentie dayes de­fend my beautie and fairenesse, making a challenge agaynst all other. These Gyants by reason of theyr great pride, didde thinke it good to accomplish my request, the which they did graunt vnto me in such sort y^t no other thing coulde disturbe them. And straight waie commaunded them of the shippe to take the way towards Grecia, wheras fortune hath brought vs, and this morning we did disimbarke our selues at the point of a land which is héere at hande, and for that they did seeme verie wearie and ouertrauailed by sea, they did de [...]er­min [...] to carrie me all the rest of y^e waie by land, till we shuld come vnto Constantinople, but now whether it was my good [Page 209] fortune, or their great pride I know not, that wold not con­sent that they should come thether, but first they should heere end their dayes. And being in this discourse, they saw a great number of people comming towardes them, which séemed to be householde seruants or such like, who came with all theyr beastes laden with victualls and other necessaries, who were all seruants vnto those Gyaunts, and when they came nigh the place and sawe that wonderful spectacle of their masters: euen as you sée the small birdes howe they will hide them­selues amongest the bushes, briers, and thicke trées, from the sight of anie rauenous foule: euen so did all these seruants of those vile Gyaunts, hide themselues in the thickest of the woods and mountaines of the Forrest, fearing the like inter­tainment. This valiant Moore when he sawe the sodaine fly­ing of them, without hauing anie care of them, and making little reckoning, he tooke that gentle Ladie in his armes and set her vpon her palfraie, and he himselfe without putting foot in his stirop, leapt vpon his horse backe with great lightnes, and tooke their iourney towards the place whereas y^e others had left their ship, into the which he entered with great spéed verie ioyfull of his good hap, & straight waie he commanded to hoise vp their sailes, & to take the waie towards Maurita­nia, whereas we will leaue them for to tell you the great dis­contentment that the valiant knight Claridiano had, by rea­son of his long tarrying in the Iland of Trapobana. O om­nipotent God, I doe desire thée to giue me wisdome & discre­tion to declare the great worthinesse of this young knight, for without thy helpe I do not finde my selfe able for to set forth so many and so meruailous feates of armes as was done by this worthie knight, as in this chapter following and in all the rest shall be declared.

¶How Claridiano was verie sad and sorrowfull to see that he was an armed Knight, onely for to doo one worthie feate of armes, and what pollicie he did vse for to absent himselfe from the king Delfo. Chap. 8.

[Page] LOng time haue wée forgotten to speake of that valiant Prince Claridiano, sonne vnto that famous Emperour Alphebo, and of the excellent Claridiana, who in the Ilande of Trapobana we left somwhat troubled, which was the occasion that his couragious heart did finde it selfe greatly oppressed, and especially for that his valyant déeds should be kept close and not come to light and be spread abroad in y^e world, for to show his mightie strength and worthy courage, & the occasion of his let was, the greate perswasion of the king Delfo, who would not loose his com­panie, putting before him for excuse his young and tender age, procuring him to tarrie and not to trie himselfe in ad­uentures, till such time as he should haue the full age of eigh­téene yeares. This young knight thought the time to be ve­rie long, which was the occasion that he was verie sadde and sorrowfull, in such sort, that his fayre and beautifull face had lost part of his naturall and liuely coulour, and dayly hée did exercise himselfe in no other thing but to goe to the sea side, and there to set himselfe vpon a rocke, hauing no other con­templation but to beholde how the water with greate furie and force did strike and beate vpon the sayd rocke. So after long time vsing this disport, it chanced on a daie at such time as the Sunne had made an ende of his iourney, hée saw at the foote of that Rocke a Dwarfe, who with an outragious and irefull voyce sayde: Don Claridiano of Grecia, what do­est thou thinke that the hardnesse of that Rocke is sufficient to blaze thy fame and to get vnto thée honour? No of verye truth, but with thy armour, and trauailing through the worlde thou shalt obtaine valour as thy predecessours haue done before thée: it had béene better thou haddest neuer bene an armed Knight, if that onely in one valyaunt déede of armes thou doest imploye thy time. Therefore I saye aryse vp O Greeke, and procure to finde out thy royall bloud and generation from whence thou doest procéede, and let not thy descent lye hidde, neyther thy prowesse vnknowen. Hée [Page] had no sooner made an ende of his spéeches, but that vppon a sodaine hée vanished cleane awaie, and was not anie more séene. The sorrowe and heauinesse was verie much which the Prince then felt in himselfe, in hearing the wordes and reasons of the Dwarfe, and the more, when that hée vnder­stoode that hée was not sonne vnto him whome he alwaies thought he had béene, the which caused his courage greatly to alter within him, and made him to saie: Unfortunate that I am, what doe I make héere amongest those which are not of my lignage, I had thought for certainetie that I had beene with my Father and kindred, and nowe I doe sée that it is to the contrarie, and that I am kept in this Ilande lyke a weake and sillie woman: O Galtenor, séeing that it was thy pleasure that by my handes thou shouldest bée restored vn­to thy kingdome, and for that effect thou hast had mée he­therto in thy kéeping: Why doest thou now consent that my fame perish and decaie, I remaining in this Ilande▪ O im­mortall Mars, to thée I do inuocate, that being by thée holpen and with thy fauour I may stretch forth the bright beame, which with thy partiall hande thou gauest me. So vttering these and such like complaints, he passed a few dayes, till that vpon a certaine daye, following his accustomed exercise, hée saw comming towards the shore a Foyst, which was gouer­ned with foure marriners, and beholding who was therein, he saw come from vnder the hatches, a very faire Damosell, who was all apparailed with mourning apparaile, and with her two auncient Squires, who led her by the armes, appa­railed in the same manner and guise. This Ladies face was all to bedewed with teares, and her countenaunce did declare and showe, that she suffered great sorrow and anguish. This valyaunt and worthy young knight very desirous to know the occasion of her greate lamentation, mooued himselfe to­wards her, and hauing saluted her, he desired her if it were her plesure, to declare vnto him the occasion of hir complaint. The Lady turning vnto him who had demaunded the occa­sion of her sorrow, and being greatly amazed in viewing his [Page] comely grace and gentle disposition, she sayd. Gentle knight, if thou doest desire to knowe the occasion of all my harme, bring me before that worthie young knight who slew Gere­dion Bendambul, and ther thou shalt vnderstand the greatest wrong without all reason that euer was done to so noble a Damsell as I am. The Prince taking pittie of her great sor­row aunswered: I doe not not knowe for what effect & pur­pose you doe aske after this knight, but be it what it will be, you shall vnderstand gentle Ladie, that he whō you doe aske for is before you, and séeing that it is so, you may be bolde to declare your pleasure, and héere I doe saie vnto you, that if it be requisite and necessarie in your seruice, I will venture my life without putting anie excuse for to remedie this your great sorrow and griefe which you do [...] shew to haue. And you shal vnderstand that I will do it without taking anie leaue of my Lord, the king Delfo, and there is nothing that dooth so much gréeue mee, as that I am not armed. This sorrow­full Ladie séeing her good fortune would not loose the occasi­on, but with a new lamentation and complaint shée knéeled downe before him and kissed his handes for the great offers which he made vnto her, the Prince did take her vp from the ground with great reuerence, then the Ladie with amorous wordes sayde. If that by the occasion of king Delfo (gentle knight) we shall receiue anie disturbaunce: héere I doe desire thée by the honour which thou dost owe vnto all vertue, that we make no farther delaie nor detainment, for héere I doe giue you to vnderstande that there remaineth but a small time for the remedying of my sorrowe and griefe. Well, let it bée out of hand answered this valiant Gréeke, and at our comming a land, the first knight that we do méet, either with his good will or ill will shall lend me his armour, and there­with taking that faire Ladie by the hand, they put thēselues into the Foist, commaunding straight waye that they should retourne theyr voyage vnto the Sea, so finding the time and winde fauourable, in a verye short space they were pas­sed on their waie so farre that they cleane lost the sight of anye land.

[Page]What shall I saie of the king Delfo and the Princes nurse, when they could not heare of the Prince what was become of him, but onely that he was departed awaie. But if I did not put before me the great duetie which I do owe, and con­sider the grauitie of a Prince, I might saie that he did things more lyker a mad man, then a Prince, & surely he had great reason, for he had lost the companie of the best knight in all the world: so this warlyke Gréeke did saile vppon the Sea with an indifferent thought, béeing in companie with y^e faire Ladie who likewise went verie well content, for that with so great ease she had found and obtained him that she sought for. But this I can certifie you of Claridiano, that he had not forgot y^e words which the dwarfe had tolde him, but alwaies remembring the same, it put him in great confusion, in such sort, y^t he did not remember to demand of the Damsel the oc­casion of her griefe, who with such dilligence went to seeke him. At such time as Diana did spred abroad her golden haire ouer all those troublesome waters, he discouered that there came towards them a barke, in such hast, that in a smal time they were come vnto them, the which barke came without anie gouernment, and he sawe sitting on the poope of y^e barke a gyant, who had his head and beard verie white, and appa­relled with roabes of estate, who was straight wayes know­en by Claridiano to be Galtenor, for the which he receiued great ioy. When the barkes were ioyned together Galtenor went and imbraced the Prince, saying: Sonne do not thinke to depart awaie in such sort, but that first I will reioyce my selfe with the presence, for it shal be more profitable vnto thée then thou doest thinke for, as well for the remedie and ease of thy thought, as for the adorning and sauegard of thy bo­die. To whom the Prince aunswered and sayd: I do verie well know my Lord, that from you can procéede nothing but that which is good, as alwaies hath bene the vse and custome hetherto. Then the Gyant sayd vnto him: This thou maist perfectly beléeue, that so long as my soule is ioyned and knit with my bodie, that it shall not exercise it selfe in anie other thing but in thy seruice. And now for that thou stand est in [Page] néede of armor, héere I doo bring it vnto thée, for that before many daies come to an ende, thou shalt haue néede thereof. Also I doo bring thée a meruailous precious sword, forged and made by my great skill, such a one as in all the worlde there is not a better. And this shall continue & indure with thée, till such time as thou shalt be in battaile with the Ba­stard Lyon, then shall it loose his vertue and valor, for that thou shalt recouer another of no lesse price, and of a greater fame, ioyntly with thy honor in the acknowledging of thy vnknowen parents, and in that time thou shalt loose all thy seruice, that euer thou hast done in the honour of Cupide, béeing in company with the disguised Hinde, all though alto­gether thou shalt not loose thy great loue, till such time as by the Goddesse Venus shal be throwen at thée the African launce, which shall pearce thy heart cleane through. Then did he declare vnto him, how he was stoln out from his mo­thers lap, certefieng him that he was sonne vnto the mighti­est Emperour in all the world: but more light then this, hée would not giue him, neither the place wheras his sister was lost, and therwith he tooke out from vnder the hatches of the barke, a fardle which was bound vp, the which he did dely­uer vnto the Marriners, that they should laye it vp safe, and imbrace him againe with great loue, and put vpon the fin­ger of the heart, on his left hand, a King, which had in it a precious Diamond, that was of so great cléernesse, that in a darke night it gaue as great a light wher it was, as though a torch were lighted. This did he straightly charge him to kéepe, for that it was of so great vertue, that so long time as he had it about him there was no inchauntment that should hurt him. This excellent young Knight woulde haue sur­rendered greate thankes for his precious giftes, but at such time as he wold haue giuen it, Galtenor was departed vpon a sodaine a greate space from them, who made so much hast, that in a verie small time he lost the sight of him. This young knight remayned with greate contentment, in knowing that hée did descende from so high a generation: [Page 220] and lykewise for the succour he receiued in the armour hée had brought him, the which he commaunded to bée very well kept till such time as occasion shoulde serue that he had néede of them: in this sort he passed away all the nighte, think­ing vpon the wordes of Galtenor. So the next morning this young knight sitting on the poope of the Foyst, with this faire Lady, he requested her to tell him the whole occasion of her comming to séeke for him. The which this Lady with great lamentation began to tell him, saying. Gentle Knight you shall vnderstand that I am daughter vnto the King of Mesapotamia, which is a prouince scituated betwéen the two great riuers Euphrates and Tigris. Of long time was I of him welbeloued and made very much on, till such time as my fathers Court was in great heauinesse, for y^t they could not heare any newes of a brother of mine, who was prince of that kingdome, whose absence at this time is verye grie­uous vnto me. There came from the other side of the riuer Euphrates, a prince, whose dominion was ouer the Prouince Palestina. He was the proudest and arrogantest Knight that euer hath bene séene, in such sort, that by reason of his fierce­nesse, he was not onely feared of them, who of dutie did owe it him, but also of all the Prouinces that ioyned with his kingdome, which extended from that riuer vnto the mayne sea of Phoenicia, the mount Libano, Gamogenia, and the high and mightie cragged rockes and mountaines Nabateos. To conclude, almost all Asia did trēble at his furie. This knight at the great fame which was vttered of my beautie, came vnto the famous and large Prouince of Mesapotamia, vnto the great citie of Mesos, whereas I was of him meruailous­ly intreated and requested of loue, but yet all that euer hée did or could doo, did little profit him, for that by any meanes I coulde not admit him into my seruice, and the occasion was, because of his great and vnmeasurable pride. So like wise came thether the Prince of Chaldaea, a Knight of great price, and adorned with many vertues, vnto whom I al­wayes showed a better countenaunce, and made acceptation of his seruice.

[Page]Then Brandemoran (the Prince of Palestina, who was so cal­led) when he vnderstood thereof was in a great confusion, and receiued greate griefe, in such sort, that he determined no o­ther thing, but with his mischieuous heart to persecute mée: it so fell out that the Prince of Chaldea whose name was Ge­lerosio béeing ouercome and forced by loue, hauing opportu­nitie and place conuenient, with dolorous reasons he did dis­couer vnto me all his whole heart, but whether it was his ill hap or my froward fortune, I knowe not, but at such time as he vttered vnto me his minde, it chaunced that Brande­moran had his eares attentiue vnto all that was spoken be­twixt vs, and when he heard that my answere was such, that it caused great ioye and comfort vnto Gelerosio, & vnto him great paine and torment, with a mischieuous heart he went vnto my Father the king, and before him he did accuse mée of whooredome. When the king my father heard it, the great ire and wrath which he receiued was so farre out of reason, that without taking anie farther counsell, he caused mée to be apprehended, and lykewise the Prince Gelerosia, and both of vs to be put in prison, but after a while when his cholar and anger waxed colder, he commaunded to call together all the nobles of his counsell and men of honour, who did perswade with my father, that by reason of the greate pride and mis­chieuous stomacke of the Prince Brandemoran, he might doo it of presumption, or else by the greate ill will which he bare vnto his contrarie Gelerosio, he had raised vp this slaunder, & that they thought it good to be put into the triall of armes, with condition, that in the space of thirtie dayes I shoulde bring a knight that would defend my honour, and by reason the valour of my cruell enimie is so mightie, there is not one in all the kingdome that dares take in hande to defend my cause, and I seeing that the time passed awaie, with a loude voice I began to complaine against fortune, and reui­led Brandemoran, calling him coward and wretch, y^t against a Damsell he hath raised so great treason and falsehoode, who hearing me to reuile him, he answered and sayd: Princesse, for that thou shalt sée how little I do estéeme all the knights [Page] of the worlde, I will giue thée one whole yeares space, that thou thy selfe in thine owne person goe and séeke him who hath the best fame in armes that may be found, and bring him hether to defend this accusation which I haue laide a­gainst thée, and so lykewise I desire the king thy Father to consent and graunt vnto the same, of whome it was graun­ted and consented, and lykewise of all the knights that were counselers of my cause, beléeuing that it might be the occasi­on of some remedie. And therewith I tooke leaue and [...] and departed from Mesos, with onely these two Squires, committing my selfe into the great riuer Euphrates in this Foist, and so long we sayled that we entered into the Medi­terraneo sea, wheras was giuen vnto vs knowledge of your great valour and mightie force, which was the cause y^t made vs take our waie towards the place of your abode, somtimes with great torments, and sometimes with faire weather, in such sort, that in the ende we ariued whereas you were, in so good time and order, as mine owne desire coulde not haue wished better. Héere you may sée and vnderstand, worthie knight, the extremitie of my euil, and the cause of my séeking for you. At the which relation of this sorrowfull Ladie, the Prince remained verie pensiue, and had great pittie on her, & aunswered, saying: Ladie, I am verie much bound vnto your highnesse, that you haue taken so much trauaile and paine to seeke me, for that ther are other a great number of more va­lour, that are bound to defend your greate iustice and make your defence, notwithstanding, for that it hath ben your plea­sure to attribute vnto me the honour, héere I doe promise you to take vpon me your iustice and defence, with th [...] small va­lour of my person, vntill I put my life in daunger for the small experience done in your seruice, I looked for no other thing at your hande gentle knight, answered the Princesse, and for that thou hast recouered so greate fame & renowne onely in dooing of one great déede of armes, it is not with­out great reason, y^t although I haue ben hetherto infortunate in all my aduentures, yet now I do finde my selfe happie, for that I haue found such a worthie knight to remedy my euill. [Page] So vpon this matter there passed betwixt those verie many reasons, but the marriners which gouerned the Foyst were greatlye amazed, and meruailed verie much to sée the greate swiftnesse of the Foyst, and the great way that it made, be­cause they knew not the occasion, but the Prince did well vnderstand how that Galtenor who helped him was the oc­casion of the great swiftnesse. In the end of ten dayes tra­uaile vpon the sea, they did ariue in a Port or Hauen of the Nabateos, whereas they did determine to goe a shoare, and from thence to take their waie vnto the place whether they shoulde goe, and with this determination he commanded to take out two horses which they brought with them in their Foyst, and a palfraie, and likewise the fardell which Galte­nor brought him, and commaunding it to be vndone, he sawe that there was in it verie faire purple armour, all to be spot­ted with starres of golde, much after the sort of the armour he was wont to weare, and the shéeld was of the same sorte, sauing that in the purple field there was no deuice made, and there the Prince proued the armour, and it was so iust and fit for his bodie as they had bene made by measure, and bée­ing therwith armed, he séemed to be of a faire disposition vn­to all them that looked on him, by reason that he was of a goodly stature and proportion, then straight waye he set the Ladie vpon her palfray, and he leaped vpon one of the horses, and the two squires vpon the other, and in that sort they be­gan to trauaile, and commaunded the Marriners to returne the same waie they came, and they tooke their waie through a narrowe path which lead them vpon an high mountaine, & by reason of the great quantitie of huge & mightie trées & the great companie of them y^t were there, they were constrained to go one after another, for y^• otherwise they thought it vn­possible to attaine vnto the top thereof, and the thicknesse of the trées were such, y^t they withstood the Sunne, that it could not enter in to warme & comfort the cold ground: in this sort they trauailed with greate care till such time as the darke night approched, although the Moone did shine vpon them, yet by reason of the great thicknesse of trées, they thought they [Page] trauailed in a darke land, & were constrained to alight from their horses, & put themselues apart out of the high waie, and chaunced nigh vnto a faire fountaine which was vnto them a delightfull hospitalitie, for that it was in the spring of the yeare, & there they sate downe vpon the gréene grasse, wher­with the ground was adorned, and called for some thing to eate, y^t which was straight waies giuen vnto them, although it was not eaten with such contentment as their hearts re­quired, so their stomackes being satisfied, euerie one of them withdrew himselfe into his place to take his rest, this newe knight tooke vp his helme and shéeld, and went to rest in that part which lead towards the mountaine, and making of his sheeld a pillow he laide him downe to rest, without hauing care of anie other thing, but onely to seeke out his lineall des­cent from whence he came, and what he was, and therewith he fell a sleepe, but his rest indured but a small time, for that in the beginning of his rest or first sléepe he heard a verye lamentable complaint, which séemed not to be farre from the place where he had chosen to take his rest, the which com­plained at sundrie times, and not hastely, so the breake of the daie drew on, & being desirous to knowe what it should be y^e made so great complaint and heauinesse, he arose vp and la­ced on his healme, and threw his shield on his shoulder, and went vnto the place where the Princesse Antemisea was at her rest, and sayd vnto her: I haue heard this night a mer­uailous greate lamentation, which hath bene the occasion y^t I haue not had anie rest at all, and therefore I do determine to goe and procure to know if I can who it is that doeth so lamentably complaine, and the occasion of their great griefe, for that my heart cannot suffer me to heare so great lamen­tation: but néedes I must procure to séeke remedye for the same, if it be possible to be had. Therefore in the meane time, I doe desire your highnesse, to take your rest in the the thickest of this Forrest, that you may be séene of no bo­dy, for that I am sure that my returne shal be very quickly, for that this complaint doth sounde verie nigh vnto the same place whereas I laie to take my rest all the last night. [Page] The departing of the Prince was verie gréeuous vnto the Princes Antemisca, and she vnderstanding that it was in vaine to say to the contrarie by reason of his determination she pretended to beare him companie, and sayd vnto him. Sir knight, know this for a truth, that your departure is vnto me verie greeuous, but in that you desire me that I doe re­maine héere, I doe not admit the same, for that surely wher­soeuer you goe, thether will I also with you, for I am not determined to loose your companie. The Prince Claridiano could not dissemble, but that he must néedes laugh at y^e spéech of Antemisca, and with a pleasaunt countenaunce he sayde. Ladie, I will not bée against your determination in anye thing, for that it shall be vnto me great honour that you bée in presence, whatsoeuer aduenture doe happen vnto me, for y^t in beholding of you my valour shal increase, and taking her by the hande (leauing the two Squires to kéepe their horses) they went into the thickest of the woode towards the place whereas he had heard those great sighs and complaints, but they had not gone verie farre, when they heard that heauie voice, and going straight waie towardes the place whereas they thought it was, the farther they went forwardes, the néerer they heard the voyce, so that they might cleerely per­ceiue that it was the voice of a woman béeing in some great griefe, the which the occasion that they made the more hast on their waie, till they found themselues in a greate plaine where grew no trées, and on the other side of the plaine was there a mountaine, and at the foote therof, there séemed to be the mouth of a great caue, out of the which issued that lamē ­table sound, and when they drew nigh vnto it they sawe that it was verie darke, and for to enter into it they must néedes descend downe certaine steps which were of stone verie ill wrought. At this time the Prince woulde haue bene verie gladde that the Princesse Antemisca had not bene with him, for that he found himselfe greatly troubled with her, and thē desired her that she would remaine and kéepe her selfe secret amongest certain bushes that were there, the which she was constrained to doe, more for to giue contentment vnto the [Page 215] knight, then for anie desire she had of herselfe. This couragi­ous knight when he sawe himselfe alone (after that hée had left the Princesse) with great hast he put himselfe into the caue, and going about from one place to another, he chanced into a great hall, which was made in manner like vnto a great court, sauing the place where the light entered, was a a louer hole, which was in the middest thereof, and going round about the same, he chaunced into a place where manie bones & skulls of dead men were, which did amaze much the Prince, and caused in him a newe desire to knowe what it should be. And going farther in where the light shewed most, he sawe where was a woman laide along vpon a bed, who was the most deformedst person that could be séene, and by her laie a young child which séemed to be of a yeare olde, who was of the stature of a meane man, and on the one side hée sawe a doore, which was verie strong and all of yron, out of the which came forth that sorrowfull voyce. The Gyantesse when she sawe the knight there within, she with great hast laide holde on a bow which lay at her beds side, and straight waies bent it and nocked a sharpe arrowe therein, and drew the bow with so great strength, that almost she brought both ends together, the knight who remained with great care, whē he sawe the arrow comming, cléered himselfe thereof, but the arrowe had not so soone passed by him, when as like vnto the winde he went vnto her, and with his close fist he stroke her such a mightie blow vpon her mouth, that without remem­braunce she fell downe vpon the ground, & without making farther reckoning of her, he went vnto the yron doore, and loo­ked which waie he might open it, and hauing proued y^e same he sawe y^t it was all in vaine, by reason of the great strength therof, so that he was constrained to returne againe vnto the place where the Gyan [...]esse was, and in looking about him he found that she had tied at her girdle the keie of that doore, the which he tooke and did open it, and went in thereat, but hée could not sée anie thing therein, by reason of the greate dark­nesse that was there, and for to sée if anie woulde make him aunswere, he asked who was there within, that so lamenta­bly [Page] did complaine, saying: Come forth if you can and y^t with­out [...]. And presently there was one which answe­red, and sayd. Héere is one of the most vnfortunatest Dam­sells in all the world, who without helpe cannot moue hir selfe. Then the knight went straight waie foorth, and sawe that there was fire, the which he blew, and lighted a Rosin sticke, that did burne verye well, and went into the place where the Damosell had aunswered him, and in the farthest end of that chamber he found the damosell that did so great­ly complaine, who lay a long on the ground verie euill appa­relled, and that which she had was all torne in péeces, in such sort that her skinne was seene in many places, and beholding her cruell vsage it mooued the knight to haue great compassi­on, and without speaking anie worde, with his owne hands he brake all the yrons & chaines wherewith shée was bound, and tooke her by the hand and brought her out of that darke roome, into the great hall where it was verie light. This Damosell when she vnderstoode that he tooke her out to set her at libertie, she knéeled downe on her knées before him, and sayd: O Knight, the comfort of my gréeuous paine, tell mee I praie you if that foule butcherly gyant be dead or not, or how you had power to come hether into this place, with­out beeing disturbed by him or his cruell sonne. The Prince answered and sayd: Hetherto I haue not seene anie, but one­ly I haue heard thy grieuous complaintes. Then the Lady with great wéeping sayd: Worthie Knight, put strength and courage in thy heart that thou maist depart with great light­nesse before these fierce diuells doe meet with you, for if they doe meete with you, you may be assured, that we shall not haue anie fauour of them, but y^t they will fill their stomack [...] with our flesh as they haue done with many others. The Prince replied: If it so fall out that they will tast of my flesh, they shall finde it hard and ill in the chawing, worse then a­nie that hetherto they haue eaten, and therefore I doe deter­mine not to mooue my selfe from hence more nowe then at anie other times I haue béene accustomed to do. And in say­ing these wordes they went out of the caue, whereas they [Page 216] found the Princesse Antemisca, who was comming to enter in at the doore, by reason that the Knight [...]arried so long, and when she sawe the nakednesse of the Damosell, vsing her royall clemencie, shee tooke off the blacke roabe that shee had on her, and couered her therewith, shedding from her chri­staline eyes many teares, with the great compassion she had of that Damosell, and straight way she tooke her by the hand and with great hast went with her towards the place wher­as she had left her Squires, and going on theyr waie, in th [...] middest of the plaine they heard amongest the trées a greate rumour and noyse, and looking about to see what it should be, they sawe comming foorth of the woode a furious monster, of so great bignesse, that he was almost equall with the highe and mightie trees, and was of a verie greate and boystrous making of his bodie and members, and as you doe sée the hungrie Lyon who is verie desirous of his praie, springeth & leapeth amongst the gréene hearbes, complaining of his great hunger and emptie bellie: in such sort came this monster, all all armed with skinnes of wilde beastes, which were verye strong and hard, and brought in his hande a Pine aple tree, full of knots, and when he sawe the knight, and knew that he carryed with him his prisoner, he gaue so terrible a shrike, that it sounded throughout all the mountaines, and lyfting vp his greate and mightie clubbe hée pressed towardes this couragious knight, who when hée sawe him comming, did abide him w^t such courage as his valiant heart did constraine him, and hauing his sword in his hand he commaunded the damsells to put themselues a part on the one side. This furi­ous diuel hauing his club in the aire fast with both his hands he did discharge the same at the prince, who with great light­nesse did cléere himselfe from the furie thereof, and caused it in vaine to fall vppon the grounde, which was with so greate strength, that it made the Prince and all the ground there a­abouts to tremble like an Earthquake, but in this time the Prince did not sleepe, but séeing himselfe cléere from y^e blow, pressed vnto that monster on the one side, & stroke him such an ouer [...]hwart blow vpon his knée in the very ioynt, that he cut [Page] it cleane a sunder, with so great ease as though it had bene a Glas [...]ie or such like, wherewith the monstrous Gyaunt fell downe to the ground, with so great strength and weight, as though it had béene a mightie tower, he was not so fallen downe, but the knight put the point of his sworde into his mouth, the Gyant séeing him so nigh, he tooke holde vpon the skirt of his shirt of maile with so great strength, y^t he made him perforce to come néere him, and as he had his sword fix­ed in the Gyants mouth, what with the strength that the gy­ant vsed to pull him towardes him, and likewise y^e strength which the knight forced, it caused the sword to passe through his throate, in such sort, that straight waie he remained dead, and voyded a great streame of bloud. Oh that I were héere able to declare vnto you the great ioye that those Damosels receiued when they sawe that greate diuell dead, and with chéeréfull countenances they went and receiued the knight, although the great feare which remained in that naked dam­sell would not let her wholy to inioye and reioyce in her ly­bertie, who sayd vnto the Prince: Valiant knight and our succour, now doth it stand vs in hand to make the more hast before the sonne of this great diuell come vnto vs, for that he is more terrible & of more strength then his Father is, to whome this couragious knight sayd: Feare not faire Ladie, for that the Gods will helpe and succour vs, in such sort, that his great furie and force shall little auaile him. These words he spake with a chéerfull countenance, & lifting vp his helme, did shew his great seueritie. So he tooke them by the hand, and went their waie towards the place where they left their squires kéeping of their horses, and at his comming thether, he straight waie mounted the two damsells vpon their Pal­fr [...]ies, and he and the rest vpon their other horses, and began to trauaile their former iourney, they had not trauailed ve­rie farre, when as they heard a great rushing, which séemed to be of many people amongst those thicke trees, which cau­sed them to staie to sée what it should be, as you shall vnder­stand in the next chapter following.

¶Of the battaile that Claridiano had with the fierce and timerous Gyant, sonne vnto the other Gyant which he had slaine, and of all that happened in the battaile. Chap. 9.

THE great noise which the valiant Knight heard, was no lesse then that which Fauonio made in the Antartike sea, nigh vunto y^e Tar­tarian coast, which is all replenished with high and mightie trées of Pine apples, so the Prince and all the rest staied to sée what it was that caused all that noise and rushing, and they sawe that it was a furious, fierce, and terrible Gyaunt that came from the thickest of the woode, hée was thirtéene cubites of height, all full of rough and thicke haire, and hée had in his hande a greate and heauie club, which séemed to bée the m [...]st of a mightie shippe, but whosoeuer had séene the faces of the Damsells at that time, woulde haue iudged their alteration to be lyke vnto the Sunne, when he is eclipsed with y^e Moone at noone dayes, but this inuincible Claridiano made no signe of anie mutation, but rather did make himselfe readie vnto the battaile, séeing that the Gyant did make towards him, the great blaring noise which the Gyant made was so terrible, that it caused great feare in all them that heard it, sauing one­ly in him who put himselfe in defence, and tarrying for the comming of the enimie, the great pride which this Gyant did vse, hauing his club in the aire comming towards the knight was much more then that which Belona vsed when she sate in her armed chariot, being gouerned with [...]urious Dragons, ouer all the fields: the horse whereon the Prince rode séeing so straunge and seldome seene a monster before him, raged in such sorte, that this couragious warriour hedde not so much strength to gouerne him, but that by pure force he cast him­selfe about in the ayre, flying from the presence of that vglie beast, but the valyaunt Prince fearing the greate peryll which might happen vnto those Damoselles, with greate [Page] lightnesse leapt from his horse leauing the saddle, and béeing on foote he quickly tourned towardes the Gyaunt, and sawe that at one blowe he had broke all to péeces one of the La­dyes Squires, whereat the Prince tooke greate griefe to sée so great an outrage done and without all reason, and with an irefull voice he sayd: Thou furious beast without lawe or reason, come to me, for I am he which hath bene the occasion of thy anger, if thou hast anie. This infernall monster went towardes Claridiano with his club all aloft, and with great furie he did assault him: Oh almightie God, saue, kéepe, and deliuer thy knight from this infernall furie, and doe not per­mit that he dye in the hands of so cruell an enimie, but first he knowe that thou art his true and perfect God. This va­liant Greeke stoode still when he saw that terrible blow com­ming, till such time as he beganne to discharge it, at which time with a straunge lightnesse he made him to loose the fu­rie thereof, and with his swoord in both his handes he stroke at the Gyaunt a mightie blowe, which chaunced vppon his clubbe with so great force that he cut it a sunder in the mid­dle, this furious diuell when he sawe that he had erred his blowe, with much more furie and double strength hée lift vp his mightie clubbe againe and discharged it at the Gréeke, who in the same sorte as before he cléered himselfe from the force thereof, making him to strike in vaine that terrible blowe vpon the ground, and with the great strength where­with it was stroke, the rest of the clubbe which remained did breake in péeces, at which time the Prince was not idle, but with greate lightnesse he entered in to him, and with both his handes he stroke him a terrible blowe vppon the wast, which made his armour to faile, but by reason of the huge and long haire which he had vpon his bodie, he coulde not hurt his flesh, which made y^e Gréeke verie much to mer­uaile at it, but séeing that the Gyant was discharging at him another blow, it made him to step aside, and although the club was cut and broken, yet there remained a greate tronchon thereof in his handes. Héere you might sée begin so terrible and furious battaile, that it séemed that all the warryours of [Page 218] Mars, were there assembled together in fight. This valiant and couragious Knight had heere great ne [...]de of all his force and lightnesse to make his defence against his enimie, [...]re might you sée the valiantnesse of Gyaunts and their infernal force and furie: likewise the incomperable force of the Grée­kish bloud of chieualrie, héere might you sée the great hast that the one made vnto the other in doubling of their blows, and procuring the one to hurt the other, trauaising grounde and moouing from place and place, séeking whereas most ad­uauntage might be found. In this sorte they trauailed for [...]he space of two houres, not knowing betwéene them anye aduauntage. But who should haue séene there the great light­nesse and prowesse of this young knight, would haue iudged him to be one of the best knightes of all the worlde, for that in all the time of the battaile, and all the terrible blowes which the giant did strike at him, yet he neuer brake maile, nor hurt anie part of his armour, and yet he hurt his contra­rie in more then tenne places, although they were not verye greate, yet did they trouble him, and it was by reason of the greate hast he made in the striking of his blowes, but when the Gyaunt sawe himselfe to be so euill intreated, he beganne to puffe, bluster, and blowe, much lyke vnto a bayted Bull, and doubled his blowes with so greate hast, that the Prince coulde not haue anie time of aduauntage to hurt him, but had inough to doe for to cléere and defend himselfe from his furie. And béeing in this greate extremitie he hearde those two Damosells which he had brought with him crie out, making a greate noyse, aduertising him to t [...]ke heede and looke vnto himselfe, and beeing verie desirous to knowe the occasion thereof, he sawe that it was that fierce and vglye woman which he hadde lefte before in the caue without a­nie remembraunce, and for dead, who came with her Bowe bent in her hande, & shot at him with her sharpe and vnmer­cifull arrows, the which he was constrained to beare off with his armour, for with his shield he could litle profit himselfe, and by reason y^t his armor was made by art of inchauntment, [Page] it did profit him much, for so soone as the arrow did strike on it, it recoyled backe againe a great waie, at this present time did the knight finde himselfe in greate perill and daunger, for that he must make his defence against that infernall monster, and likewise against that diuellysh and furious wo­man, who continually assaulted him with her arrowes, and then he could not profit himselfe of his force and strength, but onely of his great lightnesse, shunning the furie of his migh­thie blowes, so by little and little he drew nigh vnto the place whereas the Gyauntesse was, who hauing spent all her ar­rowes, she tooke in her hande a mightie clubbe and came to­wards her furious husband to helpe him. This valyaunt Gréeke founde himselfe in greate extremitie, and with the greate anger which he had, it changed his eyes into sanguine coulour, and was determined to cléere himselfe of that in­fernall woman, and with that purpose he tourned towardes her, and letting her blowe to passe by, he stepped in to her on the left side, and thrust so terrible a foine at her brest, that his swoord entered in vp to the hard hiltes, and she fell downe dead to the ground. The Gyaunt who at that instaunt was not idle, stroke the Gréeke such a monstrous blowe vppon his backe, that hée ouerthrewe him to the grounde as dear, without anie remembraunce or token of moouing, the Gyant seeing him in this case threw from him his clubbe, and tooke the knight in his furious nayles, and with the greate rage and wrath which hée had he woulde haue eaten him vp at y^e instaunt, but it fell not out with him as he thought it would, for that hée found the armour which hée had on was verye harde, and when the Gyaunt sawe that his sharpe téeth did lyttle profite him, hee beganne to tumble and toosse him vp and downe from one place to another, and by reason that he was not expert in the lacinges and buckeling of armour, hée did nothing but tumble and tosse him héere and there, to sée if hée coulde finde a place where hée might beginne to teare him in péeces. Whosoeuer should at that instaunt haue seene the greate affliction of those two Damosells, might verye well haue iudged in himselfe the anguish and sorrowe [Page 219] which they receiued, iudging themselues to be wholly lost & destroyed. But the Princesse Antemisca, lifted vp her eyes vnto heauen and sayd. I doo sée O Iupiter, that thou art very well pleased, that I doo suffer this grieuous pain and sorow. Ah Fortune, it is now great reason to leaue me, and not to persecute me any farther, and if it be so, that as yet thou hast not accomplished thy whole desire. Oh Iupiter make sharpe thy cutting sword, and therewith take awaye my life. Oh Mars, behold that now thy strength doth faile, if thou dost permit that this Knight doo perish. O what woman amongst all women hath bene so infortunate as I? Oh Gods, I doo not know wherefore you doo thus persecute me, for y^t I haue bene alwayes obedient vnto you, and now séeing that you had giuen me a Knight for to be my defence, (against y^t vn­iust cause, which was laid against me) you shoulde likewise haue suffered me to giue testimonie of my truth, and theyr false accusation? Oh thou chast Goddesse, be fauourable vnto me, séeing that Iupiter hath forgotten me, turne and take my cause vpon thée, and be fauourable, for that I neuer offended thée. These and such like complaintes vttered this afflicted Princesse, and hauing concluded, the Prince was come again to himselfe and recouered his memorie, and séeing himselfe in that perplexitie, he did procure by all meanes and pollicie to cléere himselfe out of the Gyants clawes, and béeing cléere hée put himselfe on foote, and recouered againe his swoord, blas­pheming against the smal power of his Gods, and was mer­uailously kindled with wrath and anger, the Gyant likewise recouered his mightie club, and stroke at the Prince a migh­tie blow, who séeing it comming did procure to cléere him­selfe from the furie thereof, and letting it passe, he stepped in to the Gyant, and stroke at him so terrible a blowe on the wast, that it little did profit anie defence that he had, but that his mightie sword must needs cut him a sunder in the mid­dest of his body, and he fell a sunder, each part from y^e other dead to the ground. The great paine and sorrow which those timerous damsells receiued was not before so much as their ioy and contentment now was, when they sawe their mor­tall [Page] enimie dead before thē, & neuer rested in giuing thanks vnto theyr Gods, for the deliueraunce of their knight from so huge and monstrous a beast. Claridiano when hée hadde made an end of this enterprise, he sate him downe amongest those trées for to rest himselfe, for that he had greate néede thereof, and demanded of them somewhat to eate, which was giuen vnto him of such as they had, and when he had eaten and rested himselfe well, they beganne to trauaile their for­mer iourney, and for that they shoulde goe vp a greate and mightie mountaine, they determined to ascend by little and little for the easing of their horse, and when they were halfe waie vp the night came vpon them, that they were constrai­ned to put themselues a part out of the high waie amongest the trees, and there to rest themselues all the whole night, so when the morning was come they followed theyr former trauaile vp the hill, it was well noone before they could get vnto the toppe of the mountaine, whereas they did discouer on the other side meruailous great and mightie plaines, a­dorned with trées of all sortes and great hearbes, and beeing wearie of their long iourney vp the hill, they sate downe t [...] take their rest, and to eate of that which they had left the day before, and then made an end of all, so that there remayned behinde no more victualls, which gréeued them verie much, and for that the waie was somewhat sharpe and ragged, they made the more hast to get to some towne and there to take their ease, but their hastie trauaile was all in vaine, for that there was no towne nigh them by a greate waie, so that the warre which they sustained with hunger was more greater then the battaile of the Gyants, as shall be tolde you in the chapter following.

Of the great trauaile that the Greeke knight had & the Ladies for lacke of victualls, by reason of their long iourny, & how they found a Giant, with whom the Prince had battaile and slew him, and what order they had to helpe themselues with victualls. Cap. 10.

[Page 220] AT such time as the Sunne of Tona began to spread abroade his golden haire ouer and amongst the gréene and fresh boughs of the high and mightie Pine apples, Cedrons, and other trées, which were in that fragrant mountaine, whereas all kinde of small birds [...]lew round about, recreating themselues in the beautie of the daie, and with their well tuned notes, making a swéete and heauenly melodie. At that time the mightie and well estée­med knight Claridiano, of the Speare, the vnknowne Prince of the Gréekish Empire was on horse backe with his amo­rous companie, and taking the waie which they thought to be most vsed, that they followed, the ladyes were meruailous­ly troubled for lacke of their accustomed and dayly victualls, and could not hide nor dissemble their great hunger, for the which the knight of the Speare was verie much troubled & sorrowfull. So in this great extremitie they passed all that daie, and trauailing in and out amongst those mightie trées, y^t might drew on, and although by reason of the Moone it was verie light, ye [...] vnto them it séemed to bée verie darke, for that they were verie sore troubled for lacke of that which should sustaine them, and their faces did shew and declare the per­plexitie of their stomackes. So they sate them downe vpon the gréene and fresh hearbes, verie pensiue of their extreame necessitie, procuring to take their rest that night, but all was in vaine, for that their corporall necessitie would not consent therevnto, but without sléeping they walked vp and downe all that night, till the next daie in the morning, that they tur­ned to their accustomed trauaile and iourney, procuring by all meanes to sée if they could finde anie thing for the easing of their stomackes, and had their eyes alwayes attendant to sée if they might discouer anie village, wheras they might sa­tisfie their hunger & take their rest, but all did profit thē ve­rie little, & with this the night came on them, & these afflicted Ladies fell to y^e ground w^t féeblenesse: Oh what sorrow was this vnto the Prince [...]o sée thē in this case, being notable to helpe them, & parting a little from them, he lamented saying:

[Page]O Iupiter, the mightiest amongst all the Gods, thou which diddest set at libertie those of Trapobana, by my power and strength by thée giuen, and séeing it came downe from thy emperiall seate, shew me now some fauour, and doe not con­sent that I and my companie doe perish héere with hunger and lacke of victualls: Oh Lord, doe not make anie delay in putting remedie in this my necessitie, except it be thy will that we be all meate to the Birdes, and if it be so that my déedes doe deserue it, and thou doest giue thy consentment, wherefore diddest thou put me in such estate, and wherefore diddest thou appoint me amongest other knightes, to bée the defender and vpholder of afflicted Ladyes and Damosells, & if it be so that I must néeds die, let me die by the hands of the most strongest warriour in all the world, and not to die with hunger. These and such like reasons vttered this good Grée­kish knight till such time as the daie drew on, and comming vnto the place whereas his companie were, he found them that they were verie weake and féeble, but incouraging them in the best wise he could he caused them [...] to take their horses, and so did he and also Alibernio the olde Squire, and trauai­led on their waie with so great féeblenesse that they thought verily that the Ladies would die by the waie. This worthie Gréeke was in a great confusion, yet he did not let to go first to one and then to another, comforting them, and made them to ride a pace, which they might doe verie well, for that their their horses were not so vnprouided as the masters, by rea­son of the goodly grasse that was there in those woods, wher­with they filled themselues euerie night. The Sunne had well passed two partes of her iourney when they came into a great field verie plaine, and in the middest of it was a lyttle mountaine, out of the which there appeared smoake to come forth, which gaue them to vnderstand that there shoulde bée fire in that place. Then the Prince sayd vnto Alibernio, pro­cure to comfort and incourage forwardes these Ladies, and come by little and little, for that I will ride before for to sée who shall be our host this night, and of this thou shalt bée assured, that whosoeuer it is, whether he be pleased or not, he [Page] shall giue vs lodging, and therewith he set spurres vnto his horse, and in great hast he rode towards the mountaine, and at the furie and rushing of the horse in his running, thei [...] a­rose vp from the ground a mightie Gyant, of so great height, that he séemed to be a great tree, and when he saw the knight he layde hand on a mightie great club which he had by him, and with great lightnesse he went towardes him, and sayd in the Chaldaean tongue. O vnhappie trauailer, what did [...]st thinke, that héere was no bodie for to defend thée this way? What was it the smell of the roasted Deere in thy nose, which caused thée to make so greate hast hether. The Prince when he sawe him stayed his horse and sayde: Holde thy hand thou furious Gyant and staie, for that I haue not procured thée anie euill, but rather I doe desire thée that of thine owne free will thou wouldest giue vs whatsoeuer thy pleasure is to bestow vpon vs: O man of small valour, aun­swered the Gyant, what dost thou thinke by craft and sub­tiltie to aduantage thy selfe of me: Well, for that thou shalt sée how little I doe estéeme thee, tarrie a while, for with my fists and buffets I will beate out thy braines, without the helpe of my club. And in saying these wordes he threwe his heauie club from him, and came towardes the Prince with his fist bent for to strike him, in the like sorte did this noble warriour, and for to strike him at his ease he was constrai­ned to raise vp himselfe in his stirops, otherwise he could not reach his head, but yet he lent him so terrible a blowe vpon the forehad, that he droue the bone to the braines, and beeing therewith amazed he fell downe to the ground, and with the great force and strength that he put to strike that blowe, it lacked little that he fell not from his horse, but incontinent he stroke him againe the second blowe, wherewith he made an end to beate out his braines, and there remayned dead. The Prince was greatly amazed in beholding him, for as he lay along vpon the ground he séemed to be a greate Oake blowen downe with the winde, the knight could not refraine himselfe but that he must néedes laugh, and sayd: Of truth I am a notable guest, for that before I doe enter into my [Page] lodging, I doo paye the shot. At this instant the Ladies came to that place, with as much ioy at that present, as before they were sad and sorrowfull. When the Princes Antemisca did see the greatnesse of the Gyant, and the deformitie of his bo­dy, she sayd vnto the Prince: If thou shouldest giue like payment (worthy Trapobanian) vnto all them that should re­ceiue thée for guest, I doo not know, nor I cannot beléeue, that they woulde take the paine to serue them that shoulde come after thée. I know not what will happen aunswered Claridiano, but I am sure that I haue giuen this his pay­ment according vnto the intertainment he gaue me, & some­what better cheape then that Gyant which was in y^e moun­taine, who thought with his owne body to haue quéesed mée to the death: but yet I doo certefie you, that after his death, I receiued greater battaile, then when he was a liue. Then sayd the Gentlewoman that was released out of prison, if I had not feared a farther perill, with the great ioye which I receiued when I sawe him fall downe, I promise you I could haue laughed hartely, to sée how he trauailed to catch holde of you. Tush, all this was nothing sayd Antemisca, neyther did I estéeme of it: but had it not bene for the great sorow which I receiued, when I saw him fast in his clawes tum­bling and tossing from one place to another, I promise you if the perill had not bene so great, I could not but haue re­ioyced ioy to sée how he rowled him vp & down, and by rea­son that the armour was very iust vnto his body, and lyke­wise very hard, it was a pleasure to sée him biting at it with his téeth: and when he sawe that all his greate labour was lost, he tourned vnto his first office, rolling and tumbling our Knight, as though he wold haue rocked him a sléep. I doo promise you of my faith Ladies sayd Libernio, with greate feare that I had, to haue receiued some knocke or blowe, I neither receiued pleasure in the one, nor griefe in the other. Then the Princesse said vnto the Gentlewoman her compa­nion, it shall be better for vs to goe and sée, what victualles, our host hath prepared for vs to eate, for the good hope that I haue to prooue of that which he hath ordayned for vs, [Page] hath taken from me the great care and sorrow which I had, as you may sée, and in this sorte as they were they went to­wards theyr hostes house the Gyant, and they sawe that it was a great barne cut out of the hard stone and wrought of the rocke. And entring therein they saw that he had put to rost a whole Déere, which was a very great one, and séeing that which should giue them comfort, euery one of them fell to worke, hoping for their trauaile to eate part of that déere. The olde Squire tourned the spit, and the Ladyes made the fire, and the Prince pulled out coales, so that there was none idle, in hope of the benefit to come: and with the great hun­ger they had, and desire to eate, that when the déere was scant hot on the spit, they thought it ouer rosted and halfe burned, likewise they procured to sée if they could finde any breade. Claridiano descended into a roome, he had vnder the caue, whereas he found two great loues, so great in compasse as the cyrbe of a well, and two great flagons full of béere, with great ioy and pleasure the Prince came forth out of the caue, and for to giue contentment vnto the Ladyes, he brought it forth, & shewed them what he had found. And when the La­dies saw so good prouision, they made hast of the déere, and hauing nothing wherewith to cut their victualls, the Prince vsed his sword at that time in stéed of a knife. So y^e Prince and the Ladies began to cut and to eate at their will: but Libernio by reason that he was occupied in tourning and ro­sting, he could not profit himselfe with his hands for to eate, and when he saw, that the déere was almost halfe eaten, hée sayd. Of truth if I make long tarrying, I shalbe made Lord ouer the bones, and not of any flesh, if you goe forwards in eating as you doo begin. Tarrie a while longer sayd Ante­misca, and then you shall see how it will fall out, for y^• nowe in this time of hunger, we doo not remember any curtesie, therefore procure to catch and eate whereas thou canst or maist, for thou didst very well shift to hide thy selfe amongst the bushes when as thou didst see the Gyant: to whom▪ Li­bernio, sayd.

I would this morning you had giuen vs some counsell, [Page] and not now, that you are so liuely and liberall in eating. Then Claridiano sayd, Good olde man, it shall be better that thou doest put thy iawes to worke and let thy tongue bee in quiet: I will beléeue your highnesse sayde the olde man, for that you doe giue me good counsell, and therewith hée tooke the rest of the Deere from the fire, and beganne to cut and to eate with great hast, such hast they made that in a smal time they had bestowed all the Déere and the bread, and a greate part of the Beere, whith gaue occasion vnto Antemisca to say as followeth. Oh how kings and Princes be meruailously deceiued, beléeuing that with theyr delycate meates & drinks they shall bring to themselues n [...]w and better complections, and expell all grose humours, and maintaine vnto them­selues a great state of health, and to obtaine thereby a better disgesture and tast, then they which doe liue in poore and mi­serable estate, we doe see that the simple pastor or shepheard keeping of his sheepe, is better content with a peece of brown bread and an Onion, then mightie kings and Princes with all their delycate fare, and I doe certifie you that the Shep­heards are more fortunate then kings. It is a vale of mise­ries to be a king, and greate ease and securitie to be a Shep­heard, for that the king must foresee to put good gouernment in his kingdome and minister iustice, and the shepheard onely to his sheepe: Oh what great contentment shouldest thou re­ceiue, Princesse Antemisca, if it had pleased y^• Gods to haue made thée the poorest Pastora in all the worlde, and not to haue put thée in so highe estate, whereas thy fortune hath brought thee to trauaile, & to see the experience of such proofes as these be, & that thou which doest pretend, for if thou wert of a base lignage, & that they had imputed vnto thee this falt, (w^t which w^tout all truth I am charged) I shuld not esteeme more of my honour then as a Pastora, but now being daugh­ter vnto him whom I am, I must make of it according vn­to my estate, therefore nowe I doe saye that a shepheardes estate is better then to be Queene of Mesopotamia: Oh my euill fortune and destinie, I cannot but needes I must com­plaine and crie out with a lowde voyce against thee, for that [Page] thou doest not giue mée the contentment that the silly Pasto­ra hath, in following her shéepe and lambes, and not so highe estate and Lordship. With shedding of many teares did An­temisca in this sort complaine against fortune. Libernio who was very attentiue vnto y^e words of the Princesse, said with a smiling [...] laughter: Mistresse, at such time as you were with your fingers pinching & pulling at the roasted Déere, I would you had put your selfe in this disputation, & not now, for when the belly is full, euerie one of vs is a good preacher. Ah Libernio, answered Antemisca, at that time I did not re­member that which I now féele, for if I did I shoulde haue receyued the selfe same sorrowe which I now doe. Then the olde man sayd: Well, let all passe, and let vs consider of that which is most conuenient for vs, and let vs departe from hence out of this place, and procure to come to some towne or dwelling place, for that it cannot bée without daunger to remaine héere with this dead Gyaunt, and that there is more of his fraternitie nigh this his habitation, and again, I would be verie loth that we should fall into so great daunger as that which is past, for lacke of victualls, for peraduenture we shal not méete with another host as good as this for to satisfie our hunger, the Prince was verie quiet and held his peace at all that he heard betwixt the Princesse and Libernio, and did ve­rie much reioyce to heare the discréete reasons of Antemisca, and séeing that Libernio his counsell was the best, he made hast that the Ladyes should take their palfray, and leaped on his horse, and tooke the waie and trauailed through a narowe path which séemed to be vsed by the Gyant, and so with great diligence they trauailed all the rest of that daie till it was night, at which time they had wonne the top of that moun­taine, frome whence they did discouer meruailous greate and faire plaines, the which were inhabited with verie faire Ci­ties and towns, at which sight these trauailers receiued great contentment and ioy, and without anie staying they made hast onwards on their iourney, tyll such time as they came vnto a castle which was in the middest of the waie, halfe the hill downewards, it was one a clocke at midde night before [Page] they came thether, and their horses waxed very wearie, and by reason that it was night, all the gates and dores of the Castle were shut. Then Libernio tooke holde of the ring of the gate and began to knocke with great fury, as though he would haue beaten the gate downe, at which knocking, a man of the Castle looked out of a window, and sayd. Who is y^t, which calleth and knocketh at y^e gate with so great ri­gor, at this time of the night? To whom Claridiano aun­swered. A Knight, and two faire damosells, whom fortune hath brought hether, and would if it were so your pleasure, enter in, and take some rest, for that we doo come very we­ry and troubled with this our long & solitary iourney. Tar­ry a little, aunswered the man, for that I will giue the Lord of this Castle to vnderstand thereof, and therewith he with­drew himselfe from the window, and went in: but he tar­ried not long, when that the same man opened another win­dow somwhat lower, and put out thereat a light torch, and straight way there looked out an olde Knight, whose heade was all graye, which sayd. Who be you that doo saye, that you haue passed the Mountaynes Nabateos, without anye perill to your persons. To whom Claridiano sayde, We are straungers, whose fortune hath brought vs hether, and we do desire thée to doe vs to much pleasure as to receiue vs into your castell this night, that we may take some rest: Friends, aunswered the knight of the Castell, we are héere so feared with a grat diuell, whose habitation is in the height of the mountaine, that not onely in the night, we dare not open our gates, but also we keepe them shut all day. Who is this y^t so much trouble and vexe you, sayd Libernio. The Knight sayd. A mightie great Giant, and of a maruelous height, & formed like vnto a diuell. I doo sweare vnto thée by Iupiter sayd Libernio, that from this daie forwards thou néedest not to feare him, for that this daie verie much against his will we were his guests, & did eate of that which he ordeined for himself, paying first for our victuals with two buffets, wher­with he lost his life. When the Lorde of the Castell heard this he commaunded the gates to be opened, although with [Page 224] some feare, for that he was not certaine of that he had heard spoken. But when y^e knight & his company were within the Castle, he commanded that the gate shuld be shut again: so they altogether entred into a faire & large court, & were by the Lord of y^e Castle receiued w^t great loue, & whē he saw y^t Claridiano was of so goodly proportiō, he greatly meruailed. To whom Libernio sayd: Lord & friend, from this daie for­wards thou shalt not need to haue anie feare of this thy en [...] ­mie, for that he will no more returne to trouble you, for this knight whom thou seest before thée hath slain him & made an end of his daies, & not this giant alone, but also those furious gyants Tartaros. Oh souereigne Gods sayd the olde knight of the Castell, is this possible to be true which I doe heare, and that my fortune is so good to receiue into my house the Knight that hath done so valyaunt actes. We shall quickly sée whether it be true or not, for y^e euerie night this diuell commeth▪ giuing terrible shrikes, & for that he should quickly depart, I doo command to throw him prouision, out at y^e highest window of this Castle, and yet he is not con­tent therewith by reason of his great pride, but he is so euill inclined, that if he méet anie of our people he pardoneth none, but killeth them. You may from hence forth cease your feare, sayd Claridiano, for I promise you that he will neuer more trouble nor grée [...]e you. So with such reasonings they went vp into y^e castle where they wer meruailously well re­ceiued by a Gentlewoman wife vnto the knight of the Ca­stle, whose name was Marmariton, & likewise of two sons, which he had, proper young men. So straight way the [...]able was commaunded to be couered, and that they should sitte downe to supper, whereas they were serued very abundant­ly, for the Knight of the Castle was a very rich man, none richer in all the kingdome of Nabatea, who could not satis­fie himselfe in beholding the great grauitie and seuere coun­tenaunce of the Prince, and his faire and well proportioned body. So when they had made an end of their supper, for to passe away the time, till they should goe to take theyr rest, [Page] The Prince sayd vnto the Ladie which he released out of pri­son: It shall be good faire Ladie now that you are at liberty and out of all daunger, that you doe tell vs the occasion of your imprisonment, and how it hath bene, if so be that the de­claring doth not trouble you. The Damsell aunswered: Of truth my Lord, this will I doe with a verie good will, and if it were but onely for to giue you contentment, and it is great reason and iustice, for that you did put your person in greate daunger for my deliueraunce: You shall vnderstand, gentle knight, that along the huge and mightie riuer of Euphrates, towards the Orientall partes, there is a mightie Citie called Ierosolima, the which is not far from the head of the said ri­uer, on the other side of the riuer towards the Sunne setting is there another Citie called Sabiosa, of these and of other ci­ties and townes there about, my Father is king and Lorde euer. The Gods who were so pleased for to inrich mée, not onely of goods, but also of beautie & fairenesse, more then anie other in all the kingdome, or in a great part there abouts, the fame of my great beautie was published in all places, which was the occasion that there repaired vnto my fathers Court many Lords & knights of great estimation, amongst whome there came one young knight and a straunger, who was na­turall of the kingdome of Tigliafa, and Lord of the Citye of Zina, and he béeing in loue with me and I lykewise of him, and before that eyther of vs could manifest our loue the one vnto the other, ther passed a long time, but onely by our out­wards showes, we did declare each to other the abundance of our hearts and signes of loue, the which indured many daies. So it happened vpon a daie going to recreate my selfe in a Forrest there by, amongest the swéete hearbes and odorife­rous flowers, harde by the riuer side of Euphrates, which cau­sed in my minde all kinde of amorous thoughts, and I carri­eng my yeolow golde haire, all dispearsed behinde my cares couering my backe, vpon a sodaine amongest the thicke trées I sawe a verie faire Pastora, which was combing of her haire, sitting vnder a faire and gréene Myrtl [...] trée. And héere my Lord I doe certifie you of a truth, that in all the worlde [Page 225] hath not bene séene the lyke, she hadde féeding by h [...]r a fewe shéepe, & by her lay her shepheards hooke, and her bagge hung vpon the Myrtle trée, I know not what to saye, but that the trées and hearbes did reioyce to sée her beautie, I coulde not but staie and reioyce my selfe in beholding so goodly a crea­ture, with her yeolow golden haire dispearsed all abroade, which did reach vnto her féet, & for that she was set down, her golden haire did couer all the swéet hearbs there about her, & by reason of the great heat of the Sun, she had her necken­ger turned downe vpon her shoulders, whereout did appeare her verie white and christalline necke, my Ladyes and dam­sells were no lesse amazed to sée her great beautie, beléeuing that she should be daughter vnto the Gods, & no earthly cre­ature, but fortune who is so mutable would not suffer me to inioy long so beautifull and ioyfull a sight, but being without feare in this sort as I haue tolde you, vppon a sodaine there came behinde me y^e Prince of Nicea, & before y^t I could make any meanes for to disturbe him, in great hast he tooke me fast by the arme, and with a trice he lift me vp and set me before him on the saddle bowe of his horse, and in great hast he put himselfe into the thickest of the Forrest, my Gentlewomen and maidens remained giuing great shrikes, but it little pro­fited, for that the prince of Nicea made such diligent hast, that in a verie short time he entered with me into a barke in the riuer of Euphrates, who carried vs so far, as we came wher­as he ioyned vnto the riuer Tygris, wheras we went a land, and crossed ouer the mountaines of Libanos, wheras we wer taken of that furious Gyant which was first slaine, & at one terrible blow he slew the Prince, and me he carried vnto y^e prison, whereas you (gentle knight) did finde me, & heerewith she helde her peace, giuing a great sigh, in remembring her euill fortune, and all the rest remained wich great sorrow & griefe to heare this lamentable discourse, but Claridiano was more attentiue vnto the report of the fairenesse & beautie of the Pastora, then vnto all the rest. At this time was y^e houre of the gyants comming past, which made the Lord of the ca­stle beléeue the death of his cruell enimie to be true, & recei­uing [Page] great contentment thereat, he declared vnto them of meruailous and great feasts & triumphes y^t were preparing to be made in the citie of Nabatea, at the marriage of y^e prince of Nabatea, with the Princesse of the mount Libano, to the which there wer come manie Lords & knights of all y^e king­dome, and from most parts of all the kingdomes héerabouts, but in especial from Phoenicia, Camogenia, Palestina, and Si­ria, therefore gentle knight, let your comming be to sée these feasts, for that you shall vnderstand that there is put for the price to him who doth best, a meruailous faire & great horse, such a one as is supposed in al y^• world not to be the like. Cla­ridiano had a great desire to goe thether, & he told it vnto the Ladies, who were not discontent therewith. So with that de­termination they went to bed into verie faire and well dres­sed chambers, whereas they tooke their rest and ease for that they had great néede thereof, so they soiourned & rested them­selues in this castle eight daies, wheras y^e olde knight Mar­mariton did make much of them, and gaue vnto the Ladyes all things that was necessarie for to apparel themselues, and likewise verie faire Palfraies, also he did desire the Prince to take one of his sonnes to serue him, that he might learne of him his good manners and accustomed conditions, which were passing aboue all other, the Prince did accept the offer, with a verie good will, his sonnes name was Fidelio ▪ whose doings were conformable and agréeable therevnto in all fide­litie and truth, he had a verie good countenaunce and modest disposition, & verie gentle of spéech, and when they saw that it was time to depart for Nabatea, verie much against y^e will of Marmariton, they tooke their leaue and went the way to­wards Nabatea, and what happened to them in the said iour­ney, shall bée declared vnto you in the next Chapter follow­ing.

¶How Claridiano and his companie went vnto the triumph of Nabatea, and of all that happened vnto them in the way. Cap. 11.

[Page 226] THE valiant and heroicall Prince after that he had taken leaue of the knight of y^e castle, w^t all his companie they departed their way toward the citie of Nabatea, for to sée y^e great feasts and triumphs, for that Claridiano had a great desire to finde himselfe therein. So they trauailed through a narow and straight waye, which brought them into a broad & common beaten way which led them straight vnto one of the gates of the citie, wherin much people & many knightes trauailed, and they thus trauai­ling, sawe come forth of a narowe waye which entered into that broad way, a company of Knights to the number of twentie, who were all armed with very faire and ri [...]che armour, and in their company came a Ladye somewhat in yeares, and with her a verie faire Damosell, and very well apparailed, who brought with them sixe Gentlewomen to beare them companye, who were all apparailed in purple veluet, all to be spotted with these two letters, F.F. all of golde, which did show and shine meruailous faire: & it did appeare that this ancient Ladie was Lady & mistres ouer all y^e companie, & it was true, for that she was the Dutches of the valley, and the Damsell was her daughter, who went to the feasts and triumphs in companie of those knights, and amongst them there was one a verie young man, who was Earle of the Lake, who was verie desirous to shew his vali­antnesse, this young knight was verie much in loue with y^e young damsell that came in their companie, his desire was to enter into the citie of Nabatea, with only foure knights, who pretended and beléeued to do such feats of armes, y^t the young Ladie should haue great reason to requite him his loue. Don Claridiano when he saw thē so wel apparelled & proportioned he put himselfe apart to giue them way y^t they might passe by: but yet he could not doo it so secretly, but y^t he must néeds be séene of y^• other, & for y^e Claridiano was well proportio­ned, & armed with purple armor, hauing also in his compa­ny two faire ladies, all y^e other cōpany did much behold him, meruailing much who it shuld be, the like did the Dutchesse [Page] and her daughter. And when they were all past by, the prince Claridiano turned vnto his former iourney, it was not long after that there came a Damsell towards him with as great hast as euer she could make her palfraie to goe, and when she came nigh vnto him, she did salute him verie curteously, say­ing: Knight of the Ladyes, Don Petildo Earle of the déepe Lake doth send me vnto thée, to aske thée what was the oc­casion that thou diddest apart thy selfe out of the waie, consi­dering they were men which did passe by, whether thou did­dest it for that thou wouldest not iust with them, he sayth y^t thou maist goe whether thy pleasure is, neuerthelesse if that there be in thée so much valour as doth appeare by thy dispo­sition, he would be verie glad to breake a speare with thée in the seruice of his Ladie. To whom the Prince sayd: Fayre Damsell and friend, I woulde be verie gladde to satisfie this his request, if that I did finde my selfe subiect to loue, as it doth appeare that he is, therefore tell vnto this knight that I haue no will to iust neyther to be in loue. Then the Damo­sell sayd: I doe well beléeue, that it is more thy will to take thy ease and rest, then to take anie paines, and this is y^e cause that thou wilt be cléere from amorous delights, and so she re­turned with this aunswere, and when she hadde tolde them, ther was a great laughter amongst them, in mocking of Cla­ridiano, & determined amongst themselues to send the damo­sell backe againe, to tell him, for that he was not determined to iust in the seruice of his Ladyes, y^t he would iust with one of those knights, for y^• it doth touch much the order of knight­hoode, and is also his dutie, with condition that if he be ouer­throwen, onely to loose his armour, for that it séemeth vnto vs to be verie good, & if y^e other be ouercome, likewise to loose his armour, & when the damsel had declared her message, Cla­ridiano answered: Faire damsel, tel those knights y^t I am not determined to iust, neither with condition nor without, for if I shuld loose my armor, I shuld not so quickly get other, & if they haue such a desire to iust, in Nabatea they shal find them y^t will accomplish their desire by iustice: Cursed be these thy excuses, sayd the damsell, which are so much to thy dishonor, [Page 227] how ill is y^e rich armour bestowed on thée, it is not without cause I perceiue, that they are so whole vppon thy bodie, for thou doest shew that thy warre is more with wordes then with armes and feates of knighthood. Let it be what it will be, sayd Claridiano, for I will not meddle in this iust. Well, adew knight of small reputation, said the Damsell, happie be those Ladies that doth trauaile with such a kéeper and defen­der, and therewith she returned backe to her companie, but the Ladies that were with Claridiano made great laughter, for that they were certified of the valour of their knight, what he was, but Fidelio when he heard the excuses of his master, thought verilie that he did it for feare, and for this cause hée was verie heauie and sadde, and the Ladies perceiuing, had thereat greate pleasure and sport. So trauailing forwards, they came vnto a bridge which was ouer the riuer Tygris, & on the other side there was a Tent armed which was verie rich, wherein was a knight armed which did defend that pas­sage, and there were set vp against a trée a greate number of Speares, and when the dutchesse with all her knights & com­panie entered the bridge, there appeared vnto them a knight of a gentle disposition, who with great lightnesse leapt vpon his horse, and sent a Squire vnto them to tell them that they could not passe that waie, but first they should confesse them­selues to be ouercome by the best knight of all the world, but if they will stand vnto the iust, he that receiueth the foyle to loose both his horse and armour, so in a trice they put them­selues in order, at which time the Prince Claridiano came vnto that place, and when he sawe that they did make readie and addresse themselues vnto the iust, hee stayed on the one side whereas he might verie well at his pleasure see them. It so fell out, that in twentie iusts all these twentie knights were ouerthrowen and fayled, at which the Dutchesse recei­ued great sorrow and griefe, and sent the same damsel (which the other had sent before) vnto the Prince, and when she came vnto him, she sayd: Knight, enimie vnto iusts and trauaile, my Ladie, the dutchesse of the valley doth desire thée, for that it was not thy pleasure for her knights to shew thy bounty, [Page] that now at her request thou wouldest make frée this pas­sage, & do that which her knights could not. Friend sayd Cla­ridiano, goe and tell vnto thy Ladie the Dutchesse, that I will procure to make the way sure for me and my companie, and will her highnesse likewise to bring knights that can de­fende her, as well as they can with theyr scoffes knowe how to make a iest at one they know not. The damsell said: Cursed be the reasons & excuses of so euill a knight, that nei­ther for Ladie of estimation, nor knight of prowesse, will bée moued to vertue, and héerewith she returned to giue her La­dy the aunswere. So straight way came forth many men for to pull off the armour of those ouercome Knights, the which when Claridiano saw, he spurred forwardes his horse with his speare in his hand, ready at all assayes to the iust, and went towards the Dutchesse saying. Lady, now will I shew vnto you, whether I can better kéepe my whole armor, then your Knights their broken, and therewith he called vnto that Knight which kept the passage, that he should make himselfe ready & come to him, and being both set in their places, they mooued their horses the one against the other with great fu­ry, and in the middest of theyr course they met together, and neither of them did misse his blow, but met with so greate force, that the speare of the Knight of the Passage was shi­uered all to péeces, and made the Prince to encline his body vpon the saddle, but y^e Knight of y^e Passage receiued y^e blow in such sort, y^t neither his shield, nor his armour could make any resistance, but y^t the head of y^e speare showed it selfe at his back, wherewith he fell from his horse dead to y^e groūd. The Dutchesse when she saw it, receiued great ioy, although the folly of her Knights was a griefe vnto her, in such sorte y^t she sayd. Oh what doo they deserue, y^t without knowing y^e valour of a person wil haue him in derision, for we may wel consider that the Gods can bestow their giftes on persons of small valour, at the least on them y^t haue small capacitie for to vse it, for héere you may see this knight, y^t those knights which did beare me companie, déemed y^t he did refuse y^e iust with thē of verie cowardnesse, & yet he is y^e partie y^t deliuereth them, [Page 228] that they might not altogether be shamed: Oh disordinate pride, enimie to all vertue, such is it that doth remaine in our estates, that altogether it doth make vs to forget all goodnes, yet in our subiects meaner persons we may learne that which is requisite for our commoditie and honour, and yet we doe thinke that all which the Gods doth giue vs, we doe deserue, and yet we finde not our selues satisfied. At which reasons of the Dutchesse, Claridiano was verie attentiue, & thought wel of her repentance, for that which her knightes had done a­gainst him, and was verie well content, & had her in reputa­tion to be verie honourable, & drawing nigh vnto her he said: Faire Ladie, héere you doe sée y^t with great reason the horse & armour of these your knights is mine, & doth pertaine vnto me, for y^t their experience was such to be lanched out of their saddles, as also to mock and iest at trauailing and venterous knights, therefore your pleasure may be to commaund them to be deliuered vnto me▪ for y^t they knew not how to defend them. The Dutchesse was cut off from her answere by rea­son of the comming of a knight with great pride that sayde: The horse and armour is none of thine, first I do giue thee to vnderstand y^t we will defend them with the losse of thy life. And in saying these words he drew out his sword, & before that the Prince could make anie resistance, he cut off one of his horse legs, and the Prince perceiuing it, before his horse did fall, with great lightnesse he cléered himselfe from y^e sad­dle, and like vnto the winde he went against that vncourte­ous Knight, with his sword in his hande, he stroke him such a blow vpon the head, that he cut it in two parts, and he fel dead to the earth. The rest of the Knights which saw this, came vnto him with their swords in their hands, and for all the crying out of the Dutchesse & her daughter to withdraw them, they did compasse him about altogether, striking him with terrible blowes on euery side: but yet they found him not so weake and without courage as they thought, but ra­ther with a valiant hart he made his defence, & did intreate them in such sort, that afterward it grieued thē to haue beg [...]n [Page] that enterprise, for the Prince so behaued himself, that at thrée blowes he brought three of them dead to the ground, and for that they were all chosen knightes, for the losse of those that were slaine, they would not leaue to perseuer against y^e migh­tie warriour. The Prince when he perceiued that they dyd still procure to intreate him euill, with great ire and wrath he beganne a new to plague them with his strong and fury­ous arme, in such sort, that in a small time he made that the halfe of them had lost their strength for to strike at him, the rest which remained when they sawe that there they should looke for no other but death, except they made theyr defence better, or else procure to kill him, y^t which straight way they did put in vre. Then the Prince when he perceiued that stil with great furie they did persecute him, he let slip his shéelde and threw it on his backe, and tooke fast holde of his sword in both his handes, and stroke so terrible a blowe at him which came first to hand, that hitting him on the shoulder, he cut him downe vnto the wast and he fell dead to the ground, then casting his sword about, with an ouerthwart blowe he stroke another on the throate, that he made his head to flye from his shoulders, & in that furie he brought other two dead to the ground, the other sixe which remained séeing his diuel­lish furie began to withdrawe themselues. Then the daugh­ter of the Dutchesse séeing the other knights to retire, came vnto the Prince, and with great grace and curtesie she said: Valiant knight of the Ladies, I doe desire thée for curtesies sake to cease thy furie, & let not the force of thy strong arme procéede farther, but let this my desire and request moue thée to that which twentie knightes of valour could not obtaine. This noble warriour although he was blind and ouercome with anger and wrath, yet could he not but pacifie himselfe, seeing with what humilitie this faire Gentlewoman did de­sire him, and without anie more replying he did withdrawe himselfe, and leapt vpon the horse of the knight of the pas­sage, for that Fidelio did take and brought after that y^e horse of his master was slaine, and therewith he passed ouer the bridge, and began to take his iourney forwards, leauing all [Page 229] them which saw the battaile, very much amazed at his great prowesse. So they trauailed with great haste, because they would come vnto their lodging before night, & making hast, they came vnto a mans house, who did lodge them, being in great feare, the occasion shall be told you in the next chapter following.

¶How that Claridiano was assaulted with two furi­ous Gyants, and with xv. Knightes that came with them, and of the battaile that he had with them all. Cap. 12.

AT such time as the bright Apollo, woulde spread abroad his beames vpon the cold and moyst earth, was that valiaunt knight Cla­ridiano on horseback, with all his company, for to prosecute his iourney, and vppon a sodaine, he heard with a great noyse & rush­ing, that they shut the gates of the house. Then the Prince asked what was the occasion of that great noyse, and it was told him by his hoast, how that it was for to kéepe out two great Gyants, which of late dayes did vse all those wayes & fields, dooing all the harme possible, in taking and killing all that euer they might, and they doo carrye with them fifteene Knights, for to help them to doo all this euill, for which cause all this Countrey standeth in great feare, and dare not tra­uaile by the wayes, and vnderstanding that many doe come this way, to goe sée the triumphs and feasts at Nabatea, they doo vse héere great pride and arrogancie, carrying away with them many prisoners, as well men as women. So when the Prince heard this, as one that did procure no other thing, but to augment his honour, and increase his fame, he sayd. Commaund that the gates may be open, for that I will ne­uer accompt my selfe in the number of Knights, but that I will cause them to leaue off dooing such harme, and also set them at libertie, whom they doo carry captiues, and ease thée of this great feare in the which thou art. O for the loue thou [Page] dost beare vnto the Gods, gentle Knight, sayd the Hoste of the house, doo not put these thy tender yeares in perill to bee slaine, or carried away prisoner by those furious beasts. To whom Claridiano aunswered. It will be rather a shamefull reproch vnto my fame, if there shuld lack in me, that which I am bound by the order of Knighthood to performe. There­fore my good Host, let this suffice, that neither your request nor any others peticions, shall perswade me to the contra­rie, but that I will goe forth and procure to abate so greate pride and harme, for that in making an ende of my dayes, in defence against these cruell people, then haue I performed that I am bound to, & haue promised to doo, therfore I pray thée comnaund that the gates may be opened. When the Host saw his determined purpose and will, he commaunded the gates to be opened. The two Ladyes receiued great sor­rowe and griefe, for that which the Knight did: but much more was the griefe of Fidelio, although he was throughlie certified of y^e valour of his Lord, yet he letted not but great­ly to feare his returne, for y^t the enterprise was very daun­gerous and doubtfull, and would very faine haue gone with his Lord, but he wold in no case consent thervnto, but wold alone goe forth vpon this enterprise. So this noble warrior rode forth with the visor of his helme vp, and his shield on his arme, and a mightie cutting sword in his hand, and put himselfe in the middest of the high waye, and in a smal time after, he saw a chariot which was drawen with sixe [...]orses, in the which they brought the Dutchesse of the Ualley, and all the company y^t remained with her, who by reason y^t they wer euill intreted in y^e battaile before, [...]hey [...]ad not strength to make resistaunce, but y^t they were taken prisoners by the Giants, and bound very fast, and put into that Chariot. The Prince at y^t time did greatly reioice, for y^t he had so good op­portunitie for to make satisfaction vnto the Dutchesse and her knights of the great harme the which by him they had receiued, and being ready to the battaile, he put himselfe in the high waye, tarrying their comming.

When the Giants saw his great hardines, one of them, [Page 230] which by reason of his deformed members, trauailed on a mightie great horse, came foorth before all the rest, whereas this Gréeke was: and when he came nigh him, he sayde in the Chaldean tongue. Thou Knight, what diuell hath caused thée to commit so great folly, for to abide my fury, arte thou so certefied of thy great valor, y^t thou wilt sée the proofe ther­of. Then the valiant sonne of the great Alphebo answered. Neither my folly, nor yet the trust which thou saist I haue, hath moued me, but onely this thy crueltie & euill customes which thou dost vse, for that the immortall Gods are verye angry, that they haue indued you with so mightie members and strength, and you thus imploye them, exercising nothing but vilenesse and crueltie, and therefore they doo send me, as their messenger, to make manifest vnto you their great an­ger and wrath, promising great punishment, if you doo not leaue to follow these peruerse customes which you doo vse, & if it be so that you are determined not to leaue this euill cu­stome and amend your life, héere in their names I doo defie you in mortall battaile. The Giant with the great pride he had, and with the anger that he receiued, when he heard the spéech of the Prince, the words doubled so in his mouth, that he could not make any aunswere, but threwe out from his mouth and nose great abundaunce of smoake, which almost tooke away their sights like a myst, and spurring forwardes his great beast, who was very light, that with a trice he was with the Prince, and before he could make any resistaunce, he stroke him so terrible a blow with both his handes with his heauie clubbe vpon his fine and hard stéeled helme that it made him to stagger, and to fall down vpon his horse neck, and his spears fell out of his hande, and his armes hanged downe, as though he had bene dead and out of his nose and mouth procéeded great quantitie of bloud.

His horse who was verye swifte and strong, gaue a spring in the aire, and tourned about, carrying his master a long time about the fielde, sprinkeling with bloud all the waye whereas he went.

[Page]The Giant did not remaine content after that he had giuen him this blow, but did follow him for to double it, with the which he thought to make an ende of that worke: but this thought lasted not long, for that this Gréeke Knight was come againe to himselfe, and as he was setlyng himselfe in his saddle, he perceiued very well the great daunger, where­in [...]e was lodged that he thought verely that he had bene slaine with that terrible blowe, which hée receiued: there was neuer Serpent went out of the Lidian sea, to séeke their pray, with more yre and fury, then this Gréeke warriour did at this time against his enimies to sée himselfe so ill intrea­ted, and that with one onely blow, and therewith drew out his s [...]ord, and went towards the Gyaunt saying. Tarie, ta­rie thou furious beast, for héere I sweare vnto thée by the immortal Gods, that very quickly I meane to giue thée thy paiment, which thy terrible blow doth deserue. The Prince at that time was so full of wrath, that he might well haue bene counted hardie, that durst at that time come to him face to face. And when he came whereas the Giant was, he stret­ched himselfe vpon his stirrops, and stroke so terrible a blow vpon the giants shoulder, which was with so great strength, that all that quarter he cut cleane awaye, and threwe him dead to the ground: which caused great contentment vnto all those, that were in the house beholding them. The other Giant when he saw his companion dead, with great wrathe he commaunded the fiftéene Knightes, that altogether they should assault that mortall enimye, who were not slacke in accomplishing his commaundement. Oh vnhappy people, if you had considered, how that this young Knight had lost the reynes of his pacience, you would not haue bene so hardy to assault him, for that strong mountaines were not sufficient to make resistance against him, neither would ye haue ben so bold, to giue him any occasion of offence. This worthy war­riour when he saw this his shamefull assault, without loosing any part of his courage, he went and encountred them, laying about him, striking on the right hand, and on the left hand, with so much fury, as a Lyon, when he is compassed about [Page 231] with expert hunters, euen so be vsed himself. These knights were all stout and chosen knights, and of the lineall descent of Gyants, and did not let to strike him manye and furious blowes, which made him many times almost to léese his wittes, which was caused by his great ire and wrathe, for it was such, that he felt in himselfe no increasing of force: yet for all that, he did so imploye his blowes, that ten of them, some with their heads clouen in péeces, and other some with their armes cut off, he ouerthrew dead to the ground. The other Giant was meruailously amazed to sée so incredible a thing, but puffing and blowing like to a Bull, he set hand to his mightie and great cutting sword, and with great furye he likewise assaulted the valiant Knight on the one side, and stroke at him such a blow, that he made him to stoope & in­cline his body to his horse necke, but quickly he raised him­selfe vp againe, and with great lightnesse he cléered himselfe from the second blow, which he sawe descending vpon him, and therewith he stroke two blowes at two of those fiue Knights which remained, so that he brought them both dead to the ground. The Gyant when he saw so much strength in one Knight, being very much kindeled in wrath, he com­maunded the thrée Knights which remained, to withdrawe themselues a parte, so that the Giaunt and the Knight made their assault together with such terrible blowes, that it was wonderfull to see. The Knight with both his hands stroake at the Giant, so that both their blowes descended together, with so great strength and noyse, that it made a meruailous sound throughout all the mountaints. The Giaunt was he which receceiued the most harme, by reason that his armor made but small resistance against the terrible blowes of the Knight, which was the occasion that he was hurt and woū ­ded in many places. The Giant séeing his great resistaunce roared like a baighted Bul, procuring withall the power he had to hurt the Prince. In this sort they indured more then an houre without taking any rest, at which time the Giant did féele in himselfe some wearinesse, and would with one blow make an ende of this battaile, or put his life in ieo­pardie, [Page] and therewith he stroke with all his force so terrible a blow at the prince, that he made him to fall vpon his horse crupper, but straight waye he was setled againe in his sad­dle, and striking his horse with the spurs, he came vnto the Gyant, at such time as he had his sword aloft, to discharge it vpon the Prince, but he thrust at him a foyne at the sight of his healme, which was very large, in such sort, y^t he stroke him betwixt both his eyes, and the sword passed through to his necke, so that the Gyant fell downe dead to the ground, which was no small ioye vnto all the Prisoners that were in the Chariot. The other thrée Knights when they saw all things to goe so ill on their parts, they let loose their horse bridles, and with great hast they procured to hide themselues in the thickest of the forrest. The Prince made no recko­ning of them, but let them goe, and went straight waye vn­to the Chariot, and lighted from his horse, and went vp in­to it for to vnloose those prisoners which were bounde, and sayd vnto those Ladyes. Receiue this seruice of me, not for any courtesie that I found in your Knights, but for the great bountie and vertue, which is in the Dutches and her daugh­ter. The Earle of the déepe lake aunswered and sayde. Of truth, gentle Knight, it had bene better that you had accep­ted our demaund, which we asked in the seruice of the La­dies: for that being subdued by your great valour, we had not come into so great miserie and trouble in the which we haue séene our selues. Sir Earle aunswered the prince Cla­ridiano, my heart is so cleane voyd of the subiection of loue, (putting apart my bounden dutie towards thē) that by the oath that I haue sworne to the order of Knighthood, that it is not to be meruailed if I did denie your demaund, putting for intercessour that, which my heart was neuer subiect vn­to. Then the Dutchesse with a goodly grace sayd: Yet I do certefie you gentle Knight, that at this time you shall not remaine so much at your owne libertie, but that by me you shal be constrained to be my guide to the Citie of Nabatea. With condition sayd the Prince, that the day of the iusting, you doo not manifest my person, vnto any creature. I doo ac­cept [Page 232] to be your kéeper and defender. The condition aunswe­red the Dutchesse daughter, is graunted and accepted, but yet I must néedes charge you with another request, which I will aske of you, and it is, that in my name, and as my Knight, you wi [...]l carrye with you a Iewell of mine, and enter into the iusting at Nabatea, with the Earle in your company. I cannot deny anything y^t you doo aske of me, said Claridiano, for that you haue power to commaund me, and therefore I doo accept, and graunt vnto all things that your highnesse shall demaund. And being in this communication, the Princesses thet remained at their Hostes, came whereas they were, and in their companye the Knight of the house, who was almost in an extasie with the great ioye and plea­sure he had, to sée the two Giants and his company dead, and requested them instantly, that they would goe vnto his Ca­stle to take their rest: to the which they did graunt, for the necessitie which did mooue them. Galtenor did declare vnto vs what shuld be done vnto these Giants, and said that they were Lords of the faire Ilands, enemies vnto the King of the Nabateos, and as they had vnderstanding of the greate triumphs and feasts which was proclaimed in Nabatea, thrée of those Giaunts, which were all bretheren, went forth to doo all the harme they might, in company with their mother who was a great inchaunter. The one of the Giants who was more furious and of a mightier strength then the other two, wold goe alone, and these two came together of whom wer haue tolde you. The Knights of the Dutchesse wer mer­uailously ill intreated in the battaile which they had with Claridiano, and it was requisite that they should remaine a few daies in the castle, for to ease & comfort themselues: but the Prince his hart could not in any wise suffer to tarry so long to ease himselfe, but tooke his leaue of y^e Dutchesse for to depart, who did graunt it vnto him with a very good wil, for that she would remaine in y^e Castle, till such time as her knights wer better cōforted & amended. So y^e Prince & his company tooke y^e way which they thought best, wheras they trauailed eight daies, in which time he did wōders in arms, [Page] punishing rapes and extremities offered, in such sort, and so many, that his fame was exalted vnto the cloudes, some cal­led him the Knight of the Ladies, and other some the Knight with the Purple armour. And when they vnderstoode that the time of the Triumphes drew néere, they tooke the waye which led them straight vnto the Citie of Nabatea: and for to goe thether, they must néedes passe thorough a woode of eight miles long, in the which they trauailed til it was noone time, and therein they discouered a very faire castle, and fée­ling themselues somewhat weary, they went thether for to refresh themselues, the which chanced vnto them otherwise, as in the chapter following you shall vnderstand.

¶How the Knight of the Ladies went vnto the Ca­stle, and of the great treason which was there or­dained by Arte Magicke, and of the successe there­of. Cap. 13.

THe Gréeke Prince for to take some refresh­ing, tooke his way towards the Castle, that he saw in the wood with all his companye, but yet it fel not out with them as they ho­ped, for that when they came thether they found the ga [...]es fast shut, & for all that they gaue mightie blowes thereat, and called, yet there was no body that made them any aunswere, and séeing this, they de­termined to goe round about the Castle, to see if there were any other part wheras they might call that they might be heard, but in all parts they found it a like, for the which the Prince was very sorrowfull, and pretended to departe some other waye: and turning about with his horse, he sawe a pillar, which was made of stone, on the which was written in the Chaldean tongue, these wordes. Let none be so har­die as to enter into this Castle, except he will for his bolde­nesse die the death. The Prince when he had read this ti­tle, laughed thereat and sayd. I knowe none that is so har­die to enter into the Castle, séeing before his eyes the incon­ueniences [Page 233] and harme that will thereof procéede▪ and againe, hauing the gates shut, in suth sorte, that vnto no bodie they will open them, neuerthelesse although the perill be great, yet if they would open the gates, I know not whether I should feare the entrie or not, & if it were but onely to know what he is y^t is of so great power: & nigh vnto the sayd piller was there another of the same making, at the which there hung a Bugle horne, and thereby was written these words, which said: He which is of so great hardines, & hath confidence in his power and strength, and will enter into the height of this castell, let him blow this horne, and the entrie therein shal be in safetie, but the comming forth shall be doubtfull. If I wer once within said the knight, I wold procure y^t my comming forth should be without trouble, and therewith he tooke the horne in his hand, and before that he beganne to sound it he sayd vnto the damsells: Faire Ladies I am determined to procure the entrie of this fortresse, to see what there is with­in, and likewise him that doth proclaime so great feare, in y^e meane time I desire you to tarrie for me amongest these gréene trées, for that the castell is small and will quickly bée looked ouer, so that in short time we shall know who & what there is within, and making an end of desiring them to tar­rie, he blew the horne, and made it to sound verie strongly, in such sort, that it might be heard verie far. There was no long tarrying after when y^t out of a window from y^e highest part of the castell, there was let downe a basket which was made verie fast aboue with a strong rope. The Prince did wel vn­derstand that if he would go in, he must enter in by that bas­ket, and so without anie tarrying he put himselfe therein, he was not as yet scarce setled when that with great swiftnes he was drawen vp, and when he was at the highest, with a trice he left the basket and put himselfe in at the windowe, and coulde sée no bodie, neyther those which did helpe to pull him vp in the Basket, at the which he neyther mer­uailed nor hadde anye feare, but looking about hée sawe a paire of winding stayres, whereat hée descended, and hée had not descended many steppes, when as there was so greate [Page] darknesse, that scarce he could discerne any light: and so gro­ping by the walls, he did kéepe his going downe that nar­row and turning staires, which were very long, and of such length, that he thought he descended into the middest of the earth. He spent a great time in descending those staires: but in the ende he came into a very faire and large Cour [...]e, all cōpassed about with yron grates, very faire & wel wrought, and at the one of them there was a Pastora leaning on her breast, who seemed to be of a meruailous and faire beautie: who leaned her faire face vpon her white hand, being verye pensiue, and distilled from her Christalline eyes great aboū ­daunce of teares. Whan this gréeke knight saw this beauti­full creature, he remayned in great admiration, considering with him selfe, if that by aduenture she should be the same Pastora, which the princes of Ierosolima had told him of. Then this Pastora did open hir faire and christalyne eyes, looking earnestly vpon the knight, and giuing a greuous and sorowfull sigh, she withdrew hir selfe from the grate, which caused the gréeke knight to haue great desire to know who it should be, suspecting that by force of some inchantment, she should be put therein, where-with there kindled in his heart a new Fyer of loue: And casting vp his eyes agayne to sée if he might sée her, he could not, but saw in the very same place, a woman, of a very great stature, who was all armed, with a sword gyrt at hir wast, & had hanging at her neck a bowe, and a gylt Quiuer, this lady was of so greate beautie, that she seemed almost to excell the Pastora, so that the Prince, with y^e sight which he had before him, forgot that which was past, and fixed his eyes on hir. But in the same sort vpon a sodayne, she went away as the first dyd, leuing the knight with no lesse trouble in his thought, then before he was. This knight had not much tyme to bewayle the absence of that Ladie, for that without séeing any body, he was stroken such a blow with so great fury vpon his back, that he was constrained to stoop with one knée to the groūd. Yet with a tryse he arose vp agayne: and looking about him to sée who it was that stroke him, he perceiued that it was [Page 234] a knight, which with great hast ran in at a dore which was at one of the corners of the court. And with the great an­ger which the Prince reseiued, to sée him selfe in such sort so ill intreated, he followed him with his accustomed light­nesse, following after that Knight in at the dore. He was not two steppes in at the dore, when that he fell downe in­to a déepe caue, which was couered ouer in such subtyl sort, that whosoeuer dyd treade on it, he straight-way fell down into the caue, except he were aduertised thereof. And with­in the caue it was very darke, and no light appeared. The Knight séeing himselfe so betrayed in that trappe, he feared to receiue some harme in the fall. But yet verye lightlie he put him selfe on foote, with his Sword drawen in his hand, for to make his defence, againste whatsoeuer should happen. But by reason of the great darknesse, he could not see any thing, neither discouer wherein he was fallen, but determi­ned to settle himselfe againste somewhat, if he might fynde where, groping to sée if he might fynde any other dore of en­trie into that darke Denne.

And as the knight went groping and féeling, he found that he trode on no other thing but dead mennes bones, which caused him to stand still. And not long after there was open a louer hole, at the which entred much clearenesse, and gaue great light into the place whereas he was: whereat appea­red a very olde woman, who was so leane & so ful of wrink­els, that it seemed she had nothing but skin and bones on hir, who sayd vnto the Prince, in an euill houre thou camest he­ther, & so shall thy lodging be, and thine entertainment, for that thou art now in place, that thou maist looke for no other thing, but to be meate vnto a furious beast. And thy surmoū ­ted strength shal not be able to make any defence. The prince who was very wrath, answered, Oh false & cursed Witch, whom y^e gods confound, who hath taught thée to vse so great disceit, y^t w^t thy false & diuelish vnderstāding, thou dost work so much euil against all traueling & vētrous knights. I hope to come forth out of this caue, in spight of al thy mischiefe, & with my strong arme to breake all thy bones a sunder. [Page] All that thou doest and wilt doe sayd the olde woman, I wil suffer at thy handes, onely for the reuengement I will take of thée, and that verie quickly, and therewith she went from that windowe and shut it fast againe. So not long after at his backe he heard a noise, as though they were opening of a doore little and little, whereas there appeared a little light, the Prince procuring to go thether, saw that the bones wher­on he trode were of two humane bodies, which appeared not to be verie long since their flesh was torne of with hard and cruel téeth, but this consideration could not indure long with him, for that he heard a great rumor, & looking what it should be, he sawe that there was comming forth of another den a mightie Serpent with wings, as great in bodie as an Ele­phant, which had onely two féete which appeared out of that monstrous bodie but a span in length, and each foot had thrée clawes of thrée spans in length, she came with her mouth open of so monstrous and huge bignesse, and so deformed, that a whole armed knight might enter in therat, and she had on her [...]wes two tuskes, which séemed to be of two palmes, as sh [...]rpe as any néedles, and all her bodie was couered with hard shells of diuerse colours, and with great furie she came forth with her wings all abroad, the Prince could not but receiue some feare in séeing so furious a beast, but séeing it was then time and great néed to haue courage and to be ex­pert and valiant for to make his defence, he tooke his good cutting sword in his hand, and shrouded himselfe with his hard and strong shéeld, and tarryed the comming of that vg­ly monster, and when the furious beast sawe that there was whereon she might imploie her sharpe téeth, she stroke with her wings, and with her clawes she griped and laid fast hold vpon his hard shéeld, pretending to haue swallowed whole this couragious warriour, & fastning her sharpe tusks vpon his helme, which when she found so hard, she let go her hold, & pulled at his shéeld with so great strength y^t she pulled it frō his arme, but the knight stroke at her a mightie blow vpon y^e head with his sword, but could not hurt her by reason of y^e the hard shels wherwith it was armed, & though he gaue hir [Page 228] no wound, yet for all that she felt the blow in such sort, that it made her to recoyle to the ground, & to fall vpon her long taile. This oppressed Knight made great hast to strike her another blow, but he coul [...] not, for y^t she stretched her selfe of so great height before him. But fortune was so fauoura­ble vnto him, that he might strike her on the belly, whereas she had no defence with shells nor any other thing but fea­thers, whereas he gaue her a great wound: but if y^e blowe had bene ouerthwart as it was right downe, he had surelye slaine her at that time, but yet it was not so little, but that it was mortall, whereout issued much bloud. This great Ser­pent when she felt her selfe wounded, stroake at the Knight with her tayle so terrible a blow, that if he had not séene it comming, it had bene sufficient to haue parted him in pée­ces, and by reason of the narrownes of that place, they could not a part themselues the one from the other, but she leaped in the aire with so great lightnesse, that it seemed to be ten paces from the ground, which was the occasion that her fu­rious blow did not hurt him. She was scant descended to the ground, when that with bot [...] his hands he stroke her so terrible a blow vpon those hard shels, that it made her to fal with her breast to the ground: but straight way she raysed her selfe vp againe, and would haue stroken the Knight a­gaine with her vnmercifull taile. The Knight for to cléere himselfe thereof, fell downe flat on the ground, for that hée had no time to make any other defence. But that terrible blow was not so soone passed ouer him, but straight waies he was on his feete, at such time as the furious beast came towards him. Héere the Prince hauing a great confidence in his owne strength, did so high and valiant prowesse, that you may put in obliuion, all the valiantnes that euer was done by his predecessors, and put this in perpetuall memorie. For that he threw his sword out of his hand, and went vnto this monster, and imbraced himselfe with her, & did so quease her betwixt his mightie armes, with so much strength y^t the fu­rious beast could not profit her self of her sharp clawes, but only with her wings, she beat him on euery side, this valiant [Page] warriour would neuer let her loose, but stil remained holding her fast betwéene his armes, continuing this perillous wrast­ling, being all imbrued with her beastiall bloud y^• issued out of the wound, which was a great helpe vnto him against y^e furious fiend, which was the occasion y^t she lost a great part of her strength. Long time indured this great & daungerous wrastling, & that infernall beast fast vnto the noble and vali­ant breast of the Gréeke Prince, till such time as he plainly perceiued y^t this monster begane to waxe faint & to loose hir strength: likewise it could not be otherwise but y^t the prince waxed somewhat wearie, notwithstanding he did animate himselfe séeing y^e great weaknesse of y^e Serpent, which was by reason of the great quantitie of bloud which came frō her wound, & hauing opportunitie he tooke his sword wherwith he thrust her into the heart with so great strength y^t he cloue it in two peeces, and so this infernall monster fell downe dead to the ground, and carried the Prince with her, for that they wer still fast together, and by reason that she lacked her strength to make her defence he quickly cléered himselfe out of her clawes, and recouered his sword, and when he sawe certainly that he was cléere from y^e cruell monster, he knée­led downe and gaue great thankes vnto his Gods, the poy­son was great which this monster threw out for to infect the knight, but by reason of the greate vertue which was in the armour that Galtenor gaue him, there was nothing y^t could hurt him, although he remained verie wearie & vnquiet, and was constrained to sit & coole and refresh himselfe by a well which was full of water there hard by, whereas y^e furious beast came forth, & when he found himselfe somwhat refresh­ed he looked about him and sawe a paire of staires, wherat he determined to go vp: he had not ascended many steps, but at the clift of a doore which he found, he saw sitting at a great table many people eating and drinking, and at the vpper end ther sate the gyantesse, and next vnto her by her side a migh­tie great & furious Gyant, such a one as he had neuer séene the like, & hearkning what they did say, he heard y^t the gian­tesse said: Now hath our reuenger his dinner betwéene his [Page] clawes, for that hée is so quiet, although he hath bene a great while in making of it ready, then y^e gyant asked & said: Was ther anie of you which saw what armor this knight brought & what recognices he had, then one which was there eating said: I did sée what recognices he had, then the old magicall witch said vnto her sonne, now that you certainly know he is dead, I wil tell you who it was: You shall vnderstand y^t it was the knight that slew my two sonnes & thy brothers. The gyant when he heard this, stroke with his hand a great blow vpon the table, saying: Oh Gods, & wherefore did you not tel me thereof before, that I with my own hands might haue taken the reuengment, cursed be thine inchantments, for y^t they are the occasion y^t the mightie force of my armes do loose the glorie y^t they do deserue. All this which was spo­ken the knight heard, & by their reasons he knew that they were all of the lineall desent of those gyants which he slew, for to set at libertie y^e Princesse of the valley, & hearing him­selfe so vilely spoken of he could not indure to stand there long, for his cholar did so ouercome him, y^t he could not lon­ger refraine, but set his shulder vnto the doore with so terri­ble strength, y^t he threw it downe to the ground, at which fal it made a terrible noise, which caused al them that were ther to be greatly amazed, but yet their wonder was much more to sée that the knight was at libertie & cléere from that vgly beast, who they thought had ben dead and deuoured by her, but when they sawe him they all procured to hide them­selues and to runne away, so that the Gyant remained all a­lone in that place, & rising vp from the boord, stretching him­selfe on his féet, he said: O my Gods I do giue thanks for y^• you haue deliuered this vile knight frō y^e power of y^t furious beast, that I with my hands may take reuengment of him. And in saying these wordes hée drew out a mightie sword which he had hanging at his side, & went towards the prince striking at him a terrible blow, from y^t which this Gréek did cléere himselfe with his accustomed lightnesse, & being past y^t blow he sayd: Gyant, goe & arme thy selfe, and héere I will tarrie for thee, by which meanes thou maist defend thy selfe, [Page] and make thy reuengement as thy heart desireth, and do not thou thinke that I will glorie in the abating of thy courage, but with the great valour the which my high minde doth de­maund. The Gyant when he sawe himselfe derided and that the knight made little account of him, was with the greate anger which he receiued almost beside himselfe, and sayd: Oh vile and miserable creature, is it possible that the Gods will doo me so great outrage, as to consent that I shall take ar­mour against thée, and that thou hast so much force, as to driue me vnto that necessitie. And in saying these words, he lift vp againe his broad & mightie sword against the prince, who lykewise cléered himselfe of that blow as he did of the first. Then the Prince sayd vnto him: Thou deformed beast without any humane reason, doo not procure by thy greate pride to spot or staine the nobilitie of my person, to cause me to strike thée, without hauing any armour, to make thy de­fence. The Giant made little accompt of y^e counsell he gaue him, but rather assalted him with more terrible blowes. But all that euer he did was in vaine, for that the Prince with great experience and lightnesse cleered himselfe from them, and tarried y^e time, that he might haue opportunitie to close with him, for to shew him the fruites of his fists, for at that time he had not drawen his sword. A good while they were in this contention, till such time as those Knights which ran away (which was to the number of ten) had time to arme themselues, and to returne againe into that place whereas they were eating, who came all in a readinesse with theyr swords in their hands. When the Prince saw the great pe­rill which was towards him, he was constrained to drawe out his sword for to make his defence against that wicked company. The olde Witch called with a mightie voyce vn­to her sonne, that he should enter in and arme himselfe, for that she suspected as a Deuine, what should happen. (O cur­sed heart, that is so great a friend vnto cruell reuengment: how dost thou procure to heape vpon thy selfe such shame & reproch, seeking without all Iustice to doo that, which it wer better for thee to haue left vndone.) Full little did it profit [Page] this olde Witch her great crying out, and inchauntments, for that the Giant would not hearken vnto her, but followed his pretēce vnarmed as he was, against him, who although he had bene armed, his furie would little haue profited him, so by reson that y^e other armed Knights did so much trouble him with their blowes, it was the occasion that the Giant did the more molest him, causing him many times with the fury of their blowes to boow his knées to the grounde, the which did constraine him to vse all his power against them, striking about him on the one side and on the other, that in a small time he ouerthrew fiue of them dead to the ground, yet for all that the other fiue which remained did not let to vse all the extremitie they could against the Gréeke, and like­wise that furious Gyant whom the knight would neuer of­fer to strike with his cutting sword, but alwayes waiting opportunitie that he might close with him, for to giue him one blowe with the pomell therof, and when time did serue, he would not loose it, but being verie nigh him, he stroke him so mightie a blow with the pomell of his sword vnder his eare, that he droue it into his braines, wherewith the Gy­ant fell dead to y^e ground. The other fiue knights when they sawe that terrible blowe, they threw their swords vnto the ground, and yéelded themselues vnto the curtesie of y^e Gréeke knight. The olde Gyantesse when she sawe her sonne dead, and those knights yeelded, with a great furie and terrible shri­king she put her selfe before the knight and sayd: O cruell Butcher, the destroyer of my welbeloued sonnes, make now an end of her who doth more deserue the death then they, and doe not thinke that thou shalt obtaine so much victorie as to carrie me awaie with thée aliue, and if that with thy cruell hand thou wilt not make an end of her that is without all good fortune, I promise thée that I will procure to giue it my selfe with my owne hands. And in saying these wordes shée went vnto the place whereas he sonne lay dead, and layde holde on his sharpe sword, and with a trice she thrust it in­to her bodie, that none that were there present had anie time to withdraw her from doing it, which béeing done, her mise­rable [Page] soule was scant out of y^e vnhappie bodie when y^t all the Castell began to shake, and with the noise of a terrible thun­der clap it vanished awaie, in such sort that all those y^t were there present remained in the plaine field without anie signe or token of castel to be there or anie other kind of buildings, for that you shall vnderstand, that this Castle was made by Art of inchauntment by that olde Witch. Surely it caused great admiration to all them that remained a liue: but much more was the griefe of the Ladies which tarried for y^e comming of y^e Prince, when they saw y^t he tarried so long, & also afterward when they heard that great noyse of thun­der, at the breaking vp of that inchaunted Castle. It was no lesse to be wondred at, to sée the huge and mightie Ser­pent, & the great giant with his mother, and the fiue knights that were slaine, vnderstanding that the Prince had made all that destruction. So the fiue Knights which yéelded thē ­selues, gaue the Prince to vnderstand who the Giants wer, and how the olde Giantesse had ordained that Castle for to take reuengement on him, for the death of her two sonnes. The Greeke Prince gaue thankes vnto his Gods, for that they had deliuered him out of that terrible snare, and gaue the Knightes frée libertie to departe, and goe whether they would.

Then the Prince and his company retourned onwards to their iourney, making greate hast in their trauaylyng, that they might get out of that great Woode, before that the night shoulde come vpon them, whereby they might get to some towne nigh at hand. And at such time as the gliste­ring Apollo began to hide his face, and to couer himselfe, according to his accustomed order, they came vnto a fayre Castle, which was a little without the woode, whereas of the Lorde thereof, they were verye well receiued: yet much more royal was their entertainment, and farre greater was his affection towards them, when he knew of y^e destruction of that inchaunted Castle, for that he had felte and know­en the inconuenience of that ill neighbour.

¶How that the king of Nabatea had vnderstanding of the great destruction that the Greeke Prince made in the castle, and how he commaunded that the ser­pent and the heads of the Gyants should be set at the entrie of the gate of the Pallaice for a perpetu­all memorie, and how that the triumph began that was ordeined, and of all that passed in the time of the feasts. Cap. 14.

THE fame of the valiant knight Claridiano, with his accustomed gentillitie was noised throughout all those Prouinces of Nabatea, publishing his heroicall actes and feates of armes, naming him to be the knight of the damsells, and when he drew nigh vnto Na­batea, there did not lacke them which gaue the king to vn­derstand of all that passed. When the king heard of so migh­tie and valiant déedes, and in speciall of that which was done in the inchaunted castell, and of the furiousnesse of the serpent, he commanded straight y^t men shuld be sent thether, for to bring them vnto his presence which straight way was accomplished, and when the King saw, so great worthinesse, he commaunded that forthwith for a perpetuall memory of y^e knight, they shuld be hanged at y^e pallaice gate, desirous to know y^e knight, & to haue him in his court for to do him ho­nor: but they which had more desire to sée him, wer y^e Dut­chesse of the valley and her Daughter. Who were at that time come so the Court, and declared the greate prowesse of the Prince, and thought long for the daye of the Tri­umphes, for as then hée promised without faile to be at Nabatea, so the daie of the feastes were come, at the fame wherof, resorted thether a great number of great valour and strength. Amongst whom was the prince of Phoenicia with a goodly company of noble persone, and the Prince of Ca­mogenia with many and very well proprtioned Knightes. Likewise came thether the King of Arabia, with greate [Page] maiestie, and with no lesse maiestie came the king of Silicia, and a brother of his, who were both Gyants. So likewise came thether the king of Cappadocia, all these be Prouin­ces that doth border the one with the other, & the most part of these Princes are vassalls vnto the Prince of Palestino, all these Princes came thether for to honour that good king of Nabatea, for that he was very well estéemed of them all: and as they came to honour the King, so likewise they came to proue themselues, and to get fame and name, & the praise that belongeth therevnto. It was supposed of all the compa­nie the king of Silicia would haue the prowesse and praise of all the rest, for that he was a gyant of verie bigge members, although his brother was taken to be more furious, who determined not to iust, for that his brother shuld get the ho­nour & praise, but it fell out otherwise, as heereafter you shal vnderstand. So when the daie was come all the Ladies and Damsells put themselues in places for to beholde y^e feasts, and euerie one procured to set out her selfe with the greatest brauerie y^t might be, and the great court full of people which came thether for to see the feasts and triumphs. What shall I saie heere of the daughter of the Dutchesse of the valley, who was of so great beautie y^t she was noted amongst them all. So the knights began to enter into the place of iust, and he which was the first that entered was the Prince of Ca­mogenia, who was mounted vpon a verie faire and well a­dorned courser, he was armed with blacke armour all to bée spotted full of Martines, & brought with him fiftie knightes all apparelled with the same liuerey, and with great [...] maie­stie he went round about the place, making obedience vnto all the Ladyes and Damsells: after him entered a Pagan knight, who was Lord of Siria, and armed with armour of a Lyons coulour, accompanied with an hundreth knights, all apparelled in veluet of the same coulour, and passed round a­bout the place, shewing great curtesie as the other did, which being done, he sawe that the Prince of Camogenia was ta­rying to receiue him at the iust, and straight way they began to sound the instruments, giuing to vnderstand, that they [Page 239] must make themselues ready. These Knights were nothing vnwilling, but spurred their coursers with great fury. The Prince of Camogenia made his encounter whole, & stroke the Pagan without missing any poynt: but the pagan stroke the other in such sort that he heaued him out of the saddle, & he fell to the ground, wherewith the Pagan Knight remay­ned with great pride and gladnesse. In the meane time that these two wer in the Iust, there entred in a Knight of Phe­nicia, who entred in with great pompe and pride, who when he saw that the Prince of Camogenia was ouerthrowen, he put himselfe vnto the Iust. Little did profite him his great pride and arrogancie, & outward show to be a strong knight against him of Siria, for that at the first encounter he ouer­threw him to the ground: in like sort did he vse other fif­téene Knights of diuers Prouinces. So straight way entred the Prince of Phoenicia, who was a meruailous well pro­portioned knight, armed all in white armour, wrought with excellent knots of gold, and he brought in his companye an hundred Knights, all apparailed in white satten, and riding about the place, he shewed his obedience vnto the King and all the Ladies. Then he put himselfe at his standing, for at that time ther was not a knight to iust withall. So straight way they sounded the trumpets, at which noyse the Knights mooued themselues to the Iust with their horses, and made their encounter so strong, & with so great fury, y^t the strong Pagan was cast to the grounde, and the like he did to other sixe ventrous Knights, which entred into the place. Straight way entred the braue King of Silicia, who was armed with glistering armour of very fine stéele, and was mounted vp­pon a very mightie and rich courser, and brought in his cō ­pany two hundred Knights all apparailed with rich cloth of golde, accompanied with greate musicke of minstrelles which was a pleasaunt noyse to be heard, and after that hée had made the accustomed compasse and curtesie in the place, he put himselfe at the Iust. So whēn signs were made, they spurred their [...]horses, and made their incounter so strong, that it was great griefe vnto him, to put himselfe vpright again, [Page] but the prince was caryed ouer his horse buttocks, & caryed the saddle with him betwixt his legges, which was a great griefe vnto all them that dyd see him, for that he was wel-beloued of them all. This arrogant gyant was so encou­raged, & so furyous that in a small tyme he left not a knight remaining in their saddles on horseback. And being in this great pryde, there was hard a great noyse and russhing, in maner of a tumult in the place. And loking what it should be, they saw that it was the knight of the Damsells which entred, who was armed with his riche and strong Armour, all of Purple, full of golden Starres. And before him came the two Damsells, which alwayes were in his company. The Princes of Ierosolima, caryed his shield, & the Princes of Mesopotamia▪ his Speare. Showing by his person the highnesse of his discent. Who passed by the royal seat wher­as the good King was, in whose company was his sonne the prince, armed with very rich armour, also the lord of mount Libano, a very auncient knight and of great authoritie. So on the other side was the princes, the daughter of the King of Nabatea, who was the bryde, a very fayre and comely gen­tlewoman, and with her the Dutches of the valley and her Daughter. And behinde them, was the Earle of the déepe Lake, who was still very weake of the passed battaile, and was richly apparelled with blew cloth of Gold. And as this knight passed by, the knight arose vp and showed him cour­tesie. The Dutches of the Ualley could not refraine hir selfe but that with a high voyce she sayd vnto the King. Mightie king, this is the knight in whom the gods hath put all their power & strength, that his valour may be more then theirs. This warlike knight, although he heard very well what the Dutches had sayde, passed on, and descembled as though he had hard nothing. And when he came to the Iust, he toke his shylde and his speare, and prepared himselfe redy to the Iust. So strayght wayes being in a readinesse, they sowned the Trumpets, where at which great fury, they moued their Coursers, & neither of them missed theyr blow at theyr in­counter, but by reason that the Gréeke had great good will to [Page 240] extol his fame, he stroke the gyant so mightie a blow, that he ouerthrew him to the ground. So the prince passed alongest, w^t great magestie, without any show of disdaine. The people with a great shout sayde. The great mightie & royal Agilao is ouerthrowen to the ground, so that his mightie strength hath little auailed him. Then the prince of Fenicia, would proue his aduenture with the Greke, but with great ease he was turned to the ground. So all the rest of y^e knights that were of any estimation, made their Iust, but they were all w^t great ease ouerthrowen to the ground, in lesse then the space of two houres. So at such time as the bright Febus would make an ende of his long iourney, there apeared to enter in to the place the braue and mightie Gyant, brother vnto the king of Silicia, w^t a mightie great speare in his hand, whose glystering poynt of Steele showed through all the field. He brought with him but one only squyer, which brought with him another speare, and without any care of courtesie due, he put himselfe into the place. And y^e Squire which brought his other Speare, went vnto Claridiano, & sayd: Knight, yon­der valiant gyant doth send vnto thée this Speare, and wil­leth thée that thou dost procure to doo the vttermost of thy power before that the Sunne doth set, for that he will doo the like: & likewise he saith, that he doth not only defie thée in the Iust, but also to mortall battaile. To whom Claridi­ano, said: Friend, go thy waies & tell this giant y^t sent thee, y^t I doe accept his demaund, although it doth gréeue me verie much, for that without anie occasion he maketh this defiance in time of so great ioy and pleasure, which is done in the ho­nour of so mightie a king, but séeing his will is moued with so great pride, tell him y^t I am readie to make my defence, & also y^e shortly he shall repent him of this enterprise, & in say­ing these words he tooke the speare of y^e squire, & put himself in y^e standing: at y^e time he was verie nigh y^e place where the king was, who heard y^e answere which y^e Gréeke made, for y^t which he receiued great anger, for y^t the Giant in such sort shuld defie y^e Knight w^tout any occasion: but it was no time as then to speake, but to hold his peace, & prayed vnto his [Page] Gods for to take away his great pride and arrogancie. At this time the two warriours tarryed the signe to be made by the trumpets: which being giuen, these Knights mooued their coursers, with their speares in their rests, with so great yre and desire the one to hurt the other, that they both fay­led in theyr incounter. The Giant who was verye proude, when he saw that he had erred his blow, he returned against Claridiano, carrieng his speare vppon his shoulder, and com­ming nigh him, vpon a sodaine and with great fury he tooke it from his shoulder, and before the Gréeke could cléere him selfe, he strake him a mightie blow vpon the armour, so that his staffe broke by reason of the finenesse of the armour, and made the good warriour to double his body backwards vp­pon the Horse crupper. But when he saw the great villany which the Giaunt vsed with him, his anger increased verye much, & taking his speare in the same sort, he went towards the Giant and sayd. Thou furious and proude beast, what didst thou thinke to goare me lyke as thou wouldest doo a wilde Boare, tarrie, and I will make thée to vnderstand, if I can make my knottie speare to flye in the aire, and there­with he threw his speare at him with so great furie, that he stroke him on the breast in such sort, that the speare passed through his body, and showed it selfe at his backe, so that this Giant fell downe dead to the ground, and all that were there present, were very much amazed at the great-strength and force of this Knight. At this time the Sunne had finish­ed his course, hauing nothing aboue the Horizon but his gli­stering beames, then the Iudges of the feastes commaunded with sound of trumpets that the Iusts should cease, & make an ende of the day. So the King descended from the place where he was into the Court with all his Knights for to receiue [...]hat good warriour, and desired him that he wold go with them vnto his pallaice, to y^e which he could not make deniall. And when he should enter into the great gate of the Pallaice, he saw the Serpent, and the heads of the Gyants, and when the King perceiued that he did beholde them, he sayd.

[Page 241]This remembraunce (good knight) I commaunded to be put here in thy name, for to be a perpetuall memorie of thy high and mightie Chiualrie. The Prince there at would not aun­swere making as though he did not esteme it much, for that he had with himselfe no pryde. And therewith they assendid vp into the great hall, where as they were maruailously wel receiued of the Ladies and damsells. And leauing Antemis­ca, and Belia, with the Bryde, and with the Quéene hir mo­ther in lawe, he retourned and went with the King, wheras they dyd intreate him with great maiestie. So he remained eight dayes in company with the King in his courte, for to take his ease, in which tyme the most part of the kings, prin­ces and knightes were departed, and the King of Silicia, with the dead bodie of his brother. These eight dayes past this Gréeke prince dyd take his leaue of the King, for that y^e time to make defence in the quarrell of the Princesse drawe on, the which he had great care thereof. It grieued the king ve­ry much for his departure, but seing that he was constrained therevnto, he would not hinder him, but offered him verye great and rich giftes, but the prince would not receiue any. Lykewise he toke his leaue of the Quéene, and of the Dut­ches and hir daughter, who with great sorow dyd solemnise his departure. The King brought him vnto the foote of the stayre, whereas Fidelio was tarying for him, with a mightie and rich Horse, one of the furious that was to be founde in all the countrie. He was a Rone coulored, without any kinde of marke, and trapped with very rich trapping of Golde and precious stones of great price. There came foorth of the [...]orse mouth two tuskes lyke vnto an Elophant, his nosethrills were very large and great, his head very little, his breast ve­ry broade, well pitched and so hard, that no sword were it ne­uer so sharp, was able to enter in thereat. So whan he came vnto the foote of the stayres, without letting foote in his stir­rup, he leaped vpon the best Horse that euer was. The horse was called Zefiro, for his great lightnesse. When he had ta­ken his leaue of all, they departed, determining [...]ot to staye in any place, till they came vnto Ierosolima, & so straight way [Page] to Mesopotamia, for y^t it was all one way. Then they folo­wed on theyr iourney, till they had passed all the kingedome of Nabatea, without any aduenture worth the telling. Like­wise they passed all the mount Libano, where as they founde many great and fayre Cities. Also they passed ouer the ri­uer Iordan, leauing behinde them part of Siria, trauailing a longst by part of the edge of Pallestina, which bordereth vpon Arabia. And passed through Fenicia, without any question or demaund asked of them. So they came vnto y^e populus riuer of Eufrates, and trauailed a longst y^e riuers syde, till such time as they were constrained to go vpon a high & mightie moun­tayne, from whence they might discouer Ierosolima. All these coūtries aforesaid, they passed & trauailed, in little more then two monethes, and at that tyme ther lacked little more then two monethes vnto y^e time appointed, for Antemisca to make hir defence. In all this iourney there chaunsed some aduen­tures, but for that they were not of any great importance, I let them passe, & make no mencion of them. Although y^e fame of his heroycall déedes, was hard into Grecia. And for y^t my author will not seme to be tedious, he doth let passe many, al­though they are worthy to be hard, and to giue good example vnto all those that doe weare armour, to make them hardy & couragious in their déedes.

¶How the heroycall Greke was taken prisoner, by the dart of Cupide, in beholding the beautie of a very fayre Pasto­ra, and of the greate anguish and griefe that he sustained. Cap. 15.

THat adultresse Venus, the key of all libertie, not hauing forgotten hir olde mischife and ill will, which she toke vpon the mountaine Citareo, came to take counsaile of hir sonne Cupide, to determine what order she might vse for to subiect & bring vnder hir amorous yoke, the stiffe neck of that stoute & vntamed Greke. And the better for to forge & to bring to passe to hir content, y^e worke which she had ordained, she showed hir self very friendly & lo­uingly [Page 242] vnto y^e glistering Apollo, for y^t at hir request he should with more clerenesse spred abrode his bright beams ouer the grene feldes, nigh vnto the riuer Eufrates. Who being moued by the disceitfull words of Venus, did disperse abrode his bur­ning beames: showing forth maruelous enamelled coulours, vpon y^e flowred harbes, being filled with y^e clere dew, such as seldome hath bene sene in the féelde. And the mightie riuer w^t milde & quiet running, did passe his accustomed iourney, ma­king a fine noise, w^t y^e delicate breaking of his stremes. Then this false & crafty Cupide, seing oportunitie, by y^e good dispo­sition of y^e place: & being aduertised by his disceitful mother, toke his way with his accustomed lightnesse, vnto the riuer wher as y^e mightie Claridiano was refreshing himself vnder a company of very faire & grene Mertil trées, with the rest of his company, tarying the comming of the night, wher as w^t out all feare, they reioysed & sported themselues, y^e faire, pea­sable & quiet day. And for to be more at his ease, he pulled of his strong helme, & slacked y^e buckles of his armour. And for that the damse [...]ls might y^e better recreate themselues, he put him selfe out of y^e way, somewhat apart from them, for y^t he was very curteous & honest. And aparting himselfe, he came into a place wher as he heard the noise of a Flute, which did sound very swetly: & for that it was very pleasant, and gaue him great contentment in y^e hearing, y^e better to delight him­selfe, he drew néere wher as it was, in such sorte, y^t he might delight himself of the song & musicke, without being spyde of any. He approched so nigh, y^t he might wel discern who it was that made that Flute so swéetly to sound. And he saw that it was a sheperd which lay a longst vnder a grene willow trée, who being wery in playing on the Flute, layde it downe by him, & toke a Rebick & began to play on it with very swete harmonie, accōpanying it with delicate & amorous songs. At the which the Prince receued great contētment, being atten­tiue, he heard him sing as followeth.

When he had made an ende of this song, he let the Rebeck fall out of his hand, & stretching himself on the grene grasse, crossing his hands, he put them to his mouth as a man ful of passions & griefes, & began to say w^t a weping voice, O my Pastora, let thy cruelty now suffise thée, it is now time that thou helpest thy Pastor out of so long and great sorow. Con­sider mistresse, that thou dost intreate me very euil, for y^t thou dost wel vnderstand y^t I am wholly thine, & not mine owne, & as thyne own thou maist ordaine & dispose me. I am wholly subiect vnto thy will, whether it be good or ill, what so euer thy pleasure is, vnto either of them I am agreable, for y^t I am wholly thyne. The Prince saw y^t with this shepard was an other in his company, who whan he saw y^t the other hild his peace, he toke an other Rebeke which he had, & w^t no lesse musicke then y^e other, he began to play & sing, as followeth, by y^e which he did show to be clere & at libertie of y^e paines of loue.

[Page 243]This shepheard left off his song & playing all at one time, as one y^t made no reckoning nor estéemed loue, but the amo­rous shepheard gaue so terrible a sigh y^t it sounded through­out all the field. Then making a heauie sound, he said: O happie shepheard, that loue hath giuen so much libertie vnto, great is thy good fortune, that thou maist fréely publish thy lybertie and blame my captiuitie. Let the Gods vnderstand, & let it be published, that I am brought vnto that estate, that in my songes & sonets I doe delight to vtter the swéete con­uersation that I haue with my loue. But how much more ioy should I receiue, if I could sing as thou doest, in seing my selfe at lybertie. Oh mightie Iupiter, doe not take away this excellent ioy, which I doe féele in louing, lyke wyse I do de­sire thée, that thou wouldest giue me strēgth for to passe ouer my payne and griefe, & therewith he toke againe the Rebick, and soung this song as followeth.

This Shepard was troubled in his song, & could not pro­cede any farther, for that he hard a great rushing & noyse a­mongst the bushes and trées. And loking who it should be he saw that it was a Pastora, who was apparaled with a white peticoate of very course cloth. She had hir golden haire dys­persed abroade on hir backe, behind hir eares, and had in hir hand a shepheards hooke, very well wrought, with the which she gouerned a fewe shéepe, that she had the charge of. Hir face semed so faire as Diana, at such time as hir beames hath most force. And when the Shepard saw hir, he began a new to make vnto hir pitifull lamentations. But for all that the Pastora made no rekoning to giue any eare vnto him, nor to [Page] his complaints, but rather with a smiling laughter, made of it as a iest, which caused vnto the Shepehard more torment. Then Cupide who was tarying his tyme & opportunitie, at y^t time discharged his golden Arrow, with great furie, in such sort, that the heart of the Prince, who aforetime was voyd & at libertie, was now brought in subiection & made subiect vn­to his lawes & customes. For so sone as he had séene this Pa­stora, he straight way remembred the Pastora which y^e Prin­ces of Ierosolima had told him of, & also of y^t which he saw in the inchanted Castle, leaning on hir breast at the Yron grate. And remēbring himselfe, he cast his head a side to behold hir that was y^e occasion of his new harme, but for y^t she was pas­sed alongst with hir shéep, he could not sée hir. Then he began to complaine against his vnhappie fortune, saying, Ah heauy hart, that in the time y^t thou wert a knight & at libertie, thou diddest subdue and hadst power to ouercome so many strong warriors: wher is now thy strength become, wherwith thou didst ouercome thē. Art not thou he who did ouercome those two mightie giants in Trapobana? Art not thou he which w^t thy fury didst abate y^e strength & courage of y^e mightie Gere­dion? what is become of thy potensie, wherwith thou diddest bring down y^e pride of y^e two Tartaros? what is become of the fury wher with thy fystes thou slewest y^e great giant of the moūtaines Nabatea? wher is thy strēgth wherwith thou didst win thy mightie horse Zefiro. I do sée y^t it is all yelded vnto a poore & simple Pastora. Oh hart, it doth not greue me, for y^t thou art brought in subiectiō, but only for y^t thou art at y^e wil & power of a Pastora. It is a signe y^t my lignage is not of such valour & estimation, as I was perswaded by my friend Gal­tenor. But what do I say, do I finde fault in the desert of my Pastora. And although I wer of y^e most highest lynage in the world, yet that faire face is more then any humaine creature doth deserue. And in saying these words, he fell in a sownd to the ground. And forsomuch as he was absent & taried a long time, & y^e ladies saw he came not, they went out to seke him, & found him in y^e sort as I haue told you, which caused great disturbance vnto them. Notwithstanding in the best maner [Page 244] they could, with bowing of his finger, & other diligences, they brought him againe to his remembraunce, but not in so per­fect sort, that he knew who was with him in presence. And therwith he gaue a greuous sigh, & sayd: Oh merciful Iupiter, show vpon me thy power, & do not permit that Cupide, may haue so much might against this sorowful knight. And ther­with a new he fel down in a sownd, as at the first. Both the princes wer greatly amased, not knowing what it should be, which hath caused so much alteration. And therwith Fidelio ran vnto the riuer for water, wherwith they all to be bathed his face, that he came againe to himselfe. The Ladies musing betwen thēselues, from whēce should procede this his griefe. Straight way they suspected y^t he had sene that faire Pastora, which a little before they saw passe amōgst those grene trées. Antemisca who had more care of the princes griefe then the other, when she saw him somewhat come to himself, she said: What is this worthy knight, is it now time to leaue me af­flicted, the time being so nigh at hand to make my defence, & almost at y^e gates of the citie, pul vp your hart, & let not your valiant courage at this time faint. The knight when he per­ceued y^t the ladies wer ther, he procured to raise vp his body, & to sit down, for y^t before he was layde all a long. And dis­sembling in y^e best wise he could, he said. I do not know what should be y^e occasiō of a maruailous great grief which stroke me to the hart, y^t without any power to make resistance, it ouerthrew me to y^e ground, in such sort as you foūd me. I do wel beleue, said Antemisca, y^t the occasion of this grief is in y^e hart, & y^e eies are in most fault. For if thou hadst not sene the faire Pastora, thy hart should not haue felt y^e passed paine. To this Claridiano answered nothing at all, seing y^t they vnder­stode y^e occasion of his griefe. But he made hast to make all things in a redines to go onwards on their iourney, & being all on horsback they hasted towardes Ierosolima, where they were receiued w^t great triumph, méet for such worthy Prin­ces. The olde king & Quéene gaue great thanks vnto their gods for y^e retorne of their lost daughter. Claridiano remained ther in y^e citie of Ierosolima, sixe daies, greatly against his wil. [Page] For that the new wound would not suffer him to take any rest, which caused him to take his leaue of the king and his daughter, and departed, and toke the way towards Mesopo­tamia, with great desyre to be there. So trauailing, they left behinde them the Citie of Damasco, & passed by the one syde of Armenia the great, and so entred into the great playne of Mesopotamia, and from thence without taking any rest, they came within ten myles of the citie of Mesos. From which place they sent the olde Squyre, which was with them, to giue the king to vnderstand of the comming of the Princes, who with great care trauailed in such sort, that he entred in­to the pallas, at such tyme as the king was accōpanied with all his knights, not with lyttle sorow for the absence of his daughter, for that the tyme appointed for hir defence, drewe on. On his one syde was the prince of Palestina, who was as merry and glad, as the King heauy and sorowfull. But whan Libernio entred into the great hall, the king knew him to be a man of great estimation in his kingedome. And ha­uing no power to discemble his great ioye, in seing him, he forgot his royall authoritie, and rose vp against him, & sayd: Ah my friende where hast thou left my daughter Antemis­ca, tell me quickly, as thou wouldest that the Goddes should fauour thée. Then Libernio with a cherefull countenaunce sayde, mightie King and Lorde▪ thy daughter the Princes is very well, although very wery of [...] long and troublesome iourney, and misfortunes which hath happened, but yet now with great delight, for that she doth bring with hir a knight for to defend hir honour. And if it be so that your highnesse doth accept thereof, and giue them lisence, he will come he­ther, and defend hir right. The prince of Palestina when he hard that which was spoken, with great laughter, although not very well content, sayde. And who is he that is so sim­ple & foole-hardie, to come, and gaine-saye my fury, the truth being on my syde. Libernio sayde, it is he that will make thee to acknowledge thy falsehod, and will make thée forget thy fury & mightie strength, by vsing of his valiant prowes. Whereat Brandemoran was so full of wrath, and his eyes [Page 245] sparkling lyke fyer, he sayde: If it were not for that I am before the royall presence of the King, I would giue thee to vnderstand, y^t thy gray haires had not spake with y^e discreti­on, which thou oughtest to haue. Then the King sayd, prince pacifie your courage, & be quiet, and thou Libernio retourne, & tell them that they may come when their pleasure is. And for the right of my daughter, (if she haue any) he shall haue safe conduct to come and make hir defence. And if it be so that they haue néede of any thing, speake that they may haue all furnished that is requisite. Go thy wayes and tary not, for that I haue great desire to sée either my shame or honour. For I am in such a stay, to se my selfe so dishonoured, that I think it better that I were dead. Ah what a goodly thing is it for a man to dye when he is in so great troubles. So Liber­nio put in order his departure out of hand, leauing the king somewhat content, & almost without suspection of any euill, seing that his daughter was returned to defend hir right. Li­bernio when he had got mourning apparell for the Princes, departed to the place whereas he left them, declaring vnto hir all that hir father had sayde, and what passed in his pre­sence. So therewith they procured and made hast, to finishe their iourney. And they made so much hast, that before it was night they came within two myles of the citie wher as they rested all that night, with great desire that the morning wer come. So verye earely in the morning at the breake of the day, they put them selues on horseback, and went forwards on theyr iourney. So that one houre after the Sunne had stretched forth his golden beames vpon the moyst earth and fragrant flowers, this Gréeke knight and the Princes entred into the citie of Mesos, not resting in any place, til they came vnto the kinges pallaice, wheras they alighted and went vp into the great hall. Claridiano led Antemisca by the hande, his Helme fast vpon his head, and his purple Shylde on his shoulder, but the visor of his Helme was vp, so that all peo­ple might sée his fayre & great visage, and all that saw him, dyd iudge him to be of a high lynage. Then the King was aduertised of theyr comming, and dyd abyde theyr comming [Page] in the chāber of presence, accompanied with all his nobles & knights of prowes. And when he saw his daughter to enter all couered with mourning apparel, his royal highnesse could not show the great loue he had vnto his daughter, but made showes of great sorow, shedding many teares from his eyes, which ran down vpon his chéekes, & al to be washed his gray haires. This faultlesse lady dyd prostrate hir selfe at hir fa­thers f [...]te, but Claridiano remained a fote, with so great ma­iestie, as though he had known whose sonne he was. This painefull & weried lady, did aske hir fathers hands to kisse them, but neither the king nor his daughter could speake a­ny word more. They remained so a great while, til such time as the king constraining his princely courage, sayde. I know not what wil fal out, for that I sée before me, y^t which of long time I haue desired, & yet I do not know it to be myne. The lady vnderstode y^e words of hir father, gathered stomack vnto hir selfe & said: I am Antemisca, your welbeloued daughter, although at this time I am abhorred, I am she who vniustly hath gone wandring, paying such debts as I neuer made, for that I did neuer let but to be y^e lady I ought to be. I am she that by y^e valour of this mightie & worthy warriour, do liue, and not by the compassion that thou hast had of thyne owne proper daughter. And I do thank my Gods, that they haue so much fauoured me, in giuing me his mightie & strong arme, for to defend my truth, and for to punish that euill, the which that traytour Brandemoran, hath layde and raysed vpon me. The braue Palestina, who was present at the words which the Princes sayde, was so full of pryde and yre, that without any respect vnto the kings highnesse, he sayde: Oh false adul­teresse, wherfore wilt thou deny y^t the prince of Chaldea, had thy virginitie, and that with thy consent. And what knight is he that is so hardie & hath so much courage, to saye vnto the contrary. The Greke dyd very much beholde the Palestiniā, perceuing by his wordes, that to be he that had procured all this harm against Antemisca. And although his proud words dyd moue his pacience, yet would he not make any outward show, neither aunswere vnto him, but rather with great se­ueritie, [Page 246] he tourned vnto the King and sayde: High and migh­tie Lorde, in this controuersie there is no neede of disputa­tion, neither farther rehearsal. But may it please your high­nesse to commaund, that the Prince of Chaldea may come in presence, and to know of him, if he be content, to referre all his right into my handes. The King who (was considering and beholding his mightie prowesse, in the demonstration of his person) straight wayes commaunded to be brought the­ther y^e Chaldean, with sufficient kéepers with him, which was straight wayes done.

And when he came in presence, the King sayde vnto him: prince Gelerosio, my daughter hath brought hether this kni­ght, for to defend hir and thy right, (if thou haue any.) Here would I know of thée, if that thou art content to referre all thy right and iustice into his handes. The prince Gelerosio somewhat heauy, aunswered the king and sayd, Unto the so­ueraigne Goddes and vnto him, I doe commit all my right although I had rather with y^e strength of myne own armes make my defence: and tourning vnto the Gréeke, he sayde. And for that gentle Knight, thou shalt be certified that thou defende the truth: Here I doe sweare vnto thée by the high & mightie Iupiter, that the Prince of Chaldea, did neuer com­mit y^t which with great falsehood he is accused. Then Bran­demoran dyd replye, and sayde. All that euer thou doest saye, I will suffer, for that I doe thinke before the Sunne hath made an ende of his accustomed course, to haue satisfaction. And likewise to punishe the pryde of this foole, who by ig­noraunce or rather foolish hardienesse, commeth to seeke his owne death.

This valiaunt and couragious Gréeke coulde no longer suffer his proude and slaunderous speaches, but sayde vnto him: Iupiter hath power to giue the death vnto whome he pleaseth, and I doe thinke that which thou doest pretende vnto me, will fall vpon thy selfe, for to punish thée for this thy false and surmised treason which thou most dispightfully hast raysed, against this noble Princes, who is guiltlesse of this crime.

[Page]And for that this muste be concluded by armes, and not by words, se that thou dost make no tarying, but arme thy selfe and come forth vnto the battaile, & then thou shalt see how I will make thee to vnderstand in the field, that I am none of them of whome thou hast hetherto gotten honour. I will not make thee any aunswere sayde Brandemoran, for that I think very quickly to reuenge my selfe of thée, and to pluck out y^e tongue which hath bene so bolde to speake these words vnto me. And therwith he went straight out of the pallace, and went vnto his lodging for to arme himself vnto the bat­taile. The Gréeke at his answere was somewhat yrefull, but retourning vnto the king he sayde, mightie king and Lorde, I doe desyre your highnesse that you would commaund, that your daughter may be set in a place, where as she may well sée the restoring of hir honour. The King sayde this shalbe done with a very good wil, without any tarying. The Greke dyd take his leaue of the King and of the Ladyes that were in the great hall. And went downe the stayres where as he left his page and his horse, and without the helpe of his stir­rup, he leapt into the saddle, & hauing his healme on, and his speare in his hand, he commaunded his page to tary, and not to go with him. So he went straight vnto the place appoin­ted for the battaile, with so gentle a grace and good dispositi­on, that all who dyd behold him, receiued great contentment. Ther was appointed a scaffold for two Iudges, for to Iudge the right of this controuersie, and dyd appoint the place con­uenient for their battaile. They taryed not long, when that B [...]ndemoran entered y^e place, accompanied w^t many knights, at whic [...] tyme the Iudges put them-selues on their Scaf­fold. And being all readie and the people in quiet, ther was commaunded a Trompet to be sownded, to giue them to vn­derstand, that they must prepare themselues to the battaile. At which sound they moued their cour [...]s, the one againste the other, with so great swiftnesse, [...] y^t they flew in the Ayre, whereas I will leaue [...] time doe serue, for that at the same present, the wynde Borias dyd blowe in my ea [...]e, cons [...]rayning me to speake of the mightie déedes of [Page] that valiant Rosicleer. You doo well remember, that for to succour his Horse, he leapt into his barke, & was not so soone therein, but that it sailed and made such waye as the arrow which is forced out of y^e bowe. And one of the two knights which entred the barke, leapt into the Sea for feare, and the other remained, and yeelded himselfe vnto the mercie of the Knight, which afterward did serue him for Squire, and very faithfully vsed his office, who was called Argolio. Rosicleer went trauailing to sea-wards, in his Barcke, very heauy and sorowfull, for that he was departed from his cosin so quick­ly. In this sort they trauailed syxe dayes, & the seuenth they discouered lande very far of, but the swiftnesse of the Barcke was such, that in a short time it brought them to the waters side. And being a land, he saw that it was an Iland, and very fragrant, for that towards the Occident, there appeared but little playne ground, and towards the Orient, a verye high & sharpe Mountaine. So when the Barcke had fyxed it selfe a shore, he vnderstode, that there he must go a land, and taking his horse, with great lightnesse, he leapt into the saddle, and Argolio folowed him. And they trauailed into a narrow way which led them vp vnto that croked Mountaine, & followed that way till they came to the height thereof, whereas they alighted for to refresh themselues, with that which the squire brought. And for that I haue great néede of fauour & helpe, to go forwardes with this historie, here I doe desire the Mu­ses to graunt it vnto me, that I may with more courage, de­clare that which followeth in the other Chapter.

¶How that Rosicleer founde in that Iland, the sonne of Ali [...]andro, leading a troublesome lyfe, with his faire and welbeloued wyfe, who was set at libertie by Rosi­cleer. Cap. 16.

AFter the noble Rosicleer had somewhat refre [...]hed himselfe, he toke his horse, and by little and little, he began to go vp that fragrant hill, till such time as night came vpon them, and for the great dark­nesse [Page] therof, they wer constrained to stay, & not to trauaile a­ny farther. But in a little plain place that they found, they a­lighted, whereas they found a caue, and in it the manner of a bedde, declaring that some body had bene ther, so ther they re­mained all y^e night, till y^e morning. The day being come, they retourned to prosecute their new begun iourney, & neuer re­sted till such time as they came to the top of the mountaine: from whēce they did discouer a very great & delectable plaine: & in y^• midst therof, ther was two great an high Pine trées, towards which place they went. But they had not gon far, wher they saw a pillar, in the which was grauen certain let­ters, which said. The glory of Fangamadan, vpon the subiec­tion of the Prince, sonne vnto the mightie Emperor of the Scitas, & of the couragious Troyan: Let none be so hardie as to loke vpon it, for that for so doing, he shal lose his lyfe. Ro­sicleer, was in a great cōfusion, not vnderstāding what shold be ment there-by, but trauailing in y^e path forwards, he had scāt passed y^e place, when y^t he hard a terrible & fearful shryke of a beast, such, that his horse was scared, & began to struggle in such sort, y^t he was constrained to retourne againe and to lyght on foot, & gaue him vnto Argolio, & the knight did pro­secute his way on foote. Within a small while after, he heard y^t they tourned & gaue such an other shrike, y^t it made him for to stay. And as you do sée y^e feareful Hart, when he doth heare the noyse of the hunters, doth hold vp his head, deuising on euery side to heare from which part the noyse should come: euen so dyd this knight, but he coulde not deuise nor sée any creature, but went forwardes on his way in the same path, till he came vnto a little mountaine, whereas he founde an other piller, such a one as the same before, in the which was written a tytle w^t these words. He who doth fynde himselfe of so great courage & strength, & doth procure to passe for­wards, for to deliuer the worthy Meridian, & the mighty Troyan: vnderstād, that in payment of his folly & hardinesse, he shall lose his lyfe. Let ther chaunce what will happen, sayde Rosicleer, for this feare shall not cause me to staye the vsing of all my power & strength, for so high a prince. And so with­out [Page 248] any staying, he went forwards. He had not gon far, whē he came to y^e sight of a thing of great cōpassion & grief, wher as was done the greatest crueltie y^t euer was hard done to a­ny person: which was, that in y^e middest of y^e plaine, ther was two high & mightie trées, a little distāce the one from y^e other: & in the midst betwen them, ther was hanged a man, hauing each arme tyed vnto one of the trees, by the wrystes, and the cords wherwith he was boūd, was two long & small serpēts, the which did not onely serue for to tye his wrists, but also w^t their heads they reached vnto his neck & breasts, whereas they dyd byte him in such sort, y^t they made him ful of holes. His féete likwise was tyed vnto those trées, w^t other two ser­pents, who entreated him as y^e others did. Likewise ther was vpon one of those trées, a Uulter, who at sundry times descē ­ded down, & w^t hir sharp & hard bill, she picked his belly, & ope­ned it vnto y^e guts, whereon she fed, which was y^e occasion y^t this vnhappy man gaue this terrible shrikes, w^t out resting. At the foote of those trées ther was a fierce serpent w^t wings, who was the keper of y^e tormented man. The which serpent was of more then .xv. foote of lēgth, & had but two féete, which was in y^e midst of hir body, & eche foote had fiue clawes, which were great & sharp. She had on hir head two great hornes & sharp, & gored with them as a Bull doth, & out of hir mouth she had two great tusks, hir wings shewed hir to be of great lightnesse. And about .xxx. paces frō hir was an armed knight, of a large & high stature, he lacked no armour from the head vnto y^e foote. He had hanging at his neck by a string of gold, a very rich and wel garnished sword, who when he saw Ro­sicleer, with a hasty & large pase, he came towards him, and when he came nigh him he sayde: Tell me gentle knight, what doest thou séeke here in this place of great harme and daunger: therefore retourne backe againe, for that thou canst not finde here any other thinge but death. Rosicleer in the meane tyme that he was saying these wordes, he was be­holding his face, for by reason that he brought the visor of his Helme vp, he might well perceiue, and dyd playnely sée and perfectly know him, to be the couragious Prince, [Page] Oristedes, and Rosicleer aunswered him & sayde: Thy words are not agreable vnto thy person and estate, worthy Troyan, neither is it for such a knight as thou arte, to perswade me to [...]ake this counsell, and to leaue to show my selfe of what lynage and bloud I doe defend, & likewise what I am bound by order of Knighthood to doe. The feare of death shall not cause me to moue backe one foote. This Troyan dyd laugh at that which Rosicleer dyd saye, & sayde, well seing that thou dost esteme thy selfe of so great valoure, procure to ouercome me. And in saying these wordes, with great lightnesse this Troyan leapt in with Rosicleer, and with his strong armes, he clasped him about the middle, and procured by casting him about to ouerthrow him, in such sort, that he had almost ouer throwne himselfe, but the Prince layde such holde with his hands, embrasing the Troyan, that betwixt them there began a terrible wrastling, eche one procuring by polisie to ouer­throw the other. The Troyan dyd force himselfe by little & little to cary Rosicleer towards the place whereas the Ser­pent was, but Rosicleer perseuing it, dyd procure to make re­sistance, vsing policies for to clere himselfe from that perill. But alwayes he found that the Troyans strength did not in­crease. And by reason that the mightie strength of Rosicleer was such, the Troyan could not by his force make any resi­stance, but that he must néedes be caryed out of a compasse that was marked, of iust thirtie paces from the place where as the Serpent was. And when that he had brought him out of that compasse, not being able to make resistance, the Troyan fell to the ground without any féeling, leauing Rosicleer somewhat discomforted. But yet he sawe that for to go for­wardes in his enterprise, it was requisite to ioyne battayle with that flying Serpent. And without resting himselfe, he strayte wayes toke a great and mightie speare, and with a valyant courage he went towards the place wheras the Serpent was, who seing him comming, and that he was within the compasse, she put hir selfe on foote, and beating with hyr wynges, she gaue two wonderfull shrykes, and with greate lightnesse lyke a byrd, she came towards Rosicleer, puffing [Page 249] out of that terrible mouth a mightie thicke smoake like vnto a mist. This valiant and couragious knight when he sawe her cōming he put the great end of his speare vnto y^e ground, and firming it fast with both his hands, the point forwards, he tarried her comming. This furious Serpent without ma­king any account of the spere, with the great desire she had to lay hold on the knight, put her selfe forwards with great fu­rie, so that the speare chaunced into one of her great & wide nosethrills, that almost it ranne vp into her braines, but if he had held the point of the Speare a little lower, he had giuen the most worthiest blow in all the world, but yet for all that it did not let to make a mortall wound. This furious serpent with the great fiercenesse she had she brake the speare, so that there remained in her head more then two spans thereof, and therewith she stroke at the knight with her nailes so terrible a blow, that she ouerthrew him, in such sort, that he tumbled on the ground. The beast who was troubled and astonied with that cruell wound, & againe by reason of y^e great swift­nesse and furie she could not take anie holde of his armour, but passed forwards on, insomuch that the knight had time to arise and put himselfe on foote, and finding by him the tron­chon that remained of the speare, he turned and firmed him­selfe therewith, procuring as he did at the first to receiue the blow, which he saw comming with great swiftnesse, and for­tune was so fauourable vnto him, that he chaunced with the tronchon of hir Speare vpon one of his strong hornes, and by reason that his speare was strong and ful of knots, it was fast vpon one of them, and by her great swiftnesse broke it cleane from her head, wherwith she remained with that great blow astonied and amazed with y^e terrible paine. The tron­chon of the Speare was driuen out of his hande, so that hée was costrained to laie hand on his sword, and to shrowde himselfe vnder his hard and stéele shéeld, to make his defenc [...] against the blowes that might come. This cruell Serpent beeing verie much troubled with the greate paine of the woundes, with double furie giuing wonderfull shrikes and grones she assaulted this knight. The couragious Knight [Page] who was not without great care of his defence, did abide her comming, and stood stil, and the wounded Serpent séeing her selfe nigh vnto the Knight, with great beating of her wings arose vp in the aire, thinking thereby to gripe fast hold with her sharpe nayles, and to carry him into the aire, and from thence to let him fall downe to the ground to destroye him. The courage of this Knight was very much, and likewise his iudgement, for that this Serpent had not so soone began to beate with his wings when that he suspected in what or­der she would assault him, but he lifted vp the poynt of his sword on high, and likewise his strong shield, that she might thereof make her praye. This furious serpent assaulted him to take her holde in such sort, that the sharpe sword ran into her belly and guts, and so the heart: but if that wound had not chaunced in the same place, at that time the Knight had bene meruailous ill intreated, for that the serpent tooke her hold with her long clawes in the midst of his body in such sort, that by her great strength she made his bones to crack: but by reason of the sharpnesse of the sworde which opened the wound wide, and cloue her heart asunder, the Serpent fell downe dead to the ground, leauing the Gréeke verye sore troubled and amazed. When the Knight sawe that she was dead, he gaue great thankes vnto God, for his aide and suc­cour heerein. So straight waye he went to sée who was the Knight that was bound at the trée with the Snakes, & com­ming nigh him, he knewe him to be the Prince Meridian, for the which he receiued great sorrow. There he remained a while thinking how he might vnloose him and set him at libertie, and comming vnto the serpents, with his Herculine hand, he layde holde on the necke of them that were at his féete, in such sort y^t he made him to loose his strength, & to for­get the vse of his cruell office, leauing y^e others féete & win­ding about his arme, that he was constrained to procure to cléere himselfe: but all was in vaine, for that it was so firm­ly fastened about him, that of necessitie he must vnloose it as he would vndoo a company of knots, and the more he vndid, [Page 250] the more it wounde about with such wreathings from one place vnto another, that it was very straunge, that if it had not bene by the great strength he vsed in quéesing of the ser­pent, he could neuer haue cléered himselfe thereof, but in the ende it fell downe dead to the ground. Then he laide holde of the other, hauing no lesse trouble with it, then he had with the first, and slew it lykewise, so that the féet of this tormen­ted Barbarian were at libertie of his greate paine, who gaue meruaylous and gréeuous shrikes. Then that cruell Uul­ture which was vppon one of those trées, séeing what the knight was a dooing, with greate hast shee descended downe for to strike and wounde the knight vnbewares, which was executed with such furie, striking him with her sharpe bill so terrible a blowe, at such time as hée went to lay holde on the Serpents that were at the wristes of the tormen­ted Prince, that almost it made him to fall backwardes: then the Gréeke incensed with furie [...]ooke hold on his sword and woulde haue stroke the Uulture, but hée coulde not for that shée was ascended into the ayre. Then the Knight let goe his sheelde, and with his lefte hands he layde holde on one of those Serpents (hauing alwayes his eye to the Uul­ture) and by reason the hée did quease the Serpent so hard, hée was constrayned by the greate paine which he recey­ued to let loose his holde, and in the ende he slew it, where­with the Barbarian Prince did hang but by his right arme, giuing greate and sorrowfull shrikes and grones, the Uul­ture woulde haue descended to haue stroke the Knight, but for that shée sawe the sworde put with the poynt vnwards for a defence, shée durst not giue the enterprise, but flying rounde about from one place vnto another, to sée if shee coulde finde anie place whereas shée might enter for to strike him, without béeing hurt her selfe. In this space hée had time for to laye holde with his lefte hande vppon the other Serpent, and in the same sorte as with the other hée did kill her, wherewith the Pagan fell downe to the ground without anie remembraunce.

[Page]and the Uulter giuing great and terrible shrikes went awaie and was neuer seene after. This Greeke did procure to couer his naked bodie with certaine leaues which he cut from the trees, lamentablie beholding his leane face, which didde well shew the great sorrowe & paine that he had receiued. At this time the Gréeke Princes Squire came whereas they were, forasmuch as the inchauntment was ended by the death of the last serpent, and pulling from his backe the cloake which he ware, he put it on the Pagan, therewith the better to couer himselfe. Also the valiaunt Troyan was come againe vnto himselfe, and cast his eies towardes the place whereas the Prince was hanged, to sée if he were stil in the same torment, who when he sawe him not, hée looked whether he was fal­len downe to the ground, supposing that he had ended his life with that torment, but when he saw y^e furious monster dead, and how the Gréeke was contemplating himselfe vppon the Pagan, then with great ioy he went towards them, but much more pleasure he receiued when he knew him to be the sonne of Trebatio, neuerthelesse all his mirth was mittigated whē he sawe the deadly force of this Prince Meridian, and seeing him in that plight, he could not but lament his heauie & cru­ell fortune. The Gréeke did comfort him, praying him to leaue off his sorrowfull lamentation, giuing him to vnder­stand that he was not dead: Orgalio tooke his masters helme and ranne vnto the water side which was there at hand, and brought it ful of water, & when he came vnto them, he threw thereof vpon the Pagans face, and being therewith refreshed he came somewhat vnto himselfe, & opening his eies he sawe there his friend Oristedes, & looking about he beheld another knight, who he likewise knew to be Rosicleer, & straight way he vnderstood y^t he was the occasion of his libertie, & with a gréeuous grone he sayd: O renowmed sonne of the worthie Trebatio, how God doth in all things exalt thy fame, & now séeing y^t thou hast succoured me in this torment, likewise I beseech thée aide and succour me in one other thing, y^t I may receiue my full delight, which is, that my louing spouse may likewise be set at libertie, who is captiue in this Ilande. [Page 251] The Greke aunswerid: worthy Prince, my power & strength is ready at your commaundement, & I will imploy all my force and polefie in your seruice, or lose my life in it. Therfore let vs procure to depart from hence, & giue me to vnderstand the occasion of all this your sorow and torment: and when that my strong arme cannot satisfie your will, my lyfe shall remaine in recompence of my large promis. So straight way they put the Pagan vpon the Squires Horse, & couered him with the same cloake, that first he had, and toke the Squyre behind him for to holde him vp, for that he was so leane, that he could not kéepe himselfe vp-right in the saddle. And there­with they retourned, & toke the way wherin Rosicleer came, & following an other path vnder the hills side which brought them vnto a faire Castell. And in trauailing by y^e way, Ro­sicleer dyd demaund of Oristedes the cause and increasing of all his sorow, to whome he began to tell as followeth.

You shall vnderstand, worthy Prince, that this Iland be­longed vnto a very great and monstrous Gyant, whom the Prince slew, for to set at libertie certaine Ladies, the which he caryed captiue. So a sonne of this Gyant many dayes af­ter, dyd procure to be reuenged of the death of his father, and followed it so hard, that in y^e ende he founde such occasion, that he met w^t the Prince, hauing no other defence but his sword, without any armour, for that he was sportinge himselfe at the sea side, and in his company was I, & a few other knights, the Gyant with them that were with him, assalted vs with so great power and strength, that in spight of all that euer we could doe to make our defence, they brought vs vnto this I­lainde, wherein we were a great time prisoners. So one mor­n [...]ng, not knowing how and which way, we found our selues in such order as you did finde vs, inchanted. He did not onely make this inchauntment to be of great strength, but also he laboured for no other thing, but to make defence, y^t the prince might not be set at lybertie. The ordeiner of this inchaunt­ment, was a sister vnto Fangomadan, and for to punish him with more tormēt, she put him in this sort as you haue sene, leauing the Princes in the Castel, in fast prison, being kept [Page] by two sonnes of the Gyant, & other knightes, beléeuing that the Prince shuld neuer be deliuered out of that terrible tor­ment, and héerewith they drew nigh vnto the foote of the Ca­stell, whereas they vnhorsed the Prince Meridian, and deter­mined there to take their ease and rest. Orgalio went vnto their barke for to bring prouision, for that they had ther great store, at whose returne they did eate & refreshed themselues, & Meridian recouered somewhat more strength, as one y^t had his stomacke cleane voide of victualls, the like did his com­panion Oristedes. So all that night they remained ther, re­sting themselues, and communed of all things what was best to be done in their enterprise. So they determined y^t the next daie the Gréeke shuld go alone to the castle, for if the Troyan should goe with him, it would possible be the occasion y^t they would not open the gates, because they knewe the Troyan. So with this determination when the morning was come, the Gréeke arose vp and trimmed his armour, & laced on his helme, & put his shéeld on his shoulder, and tooke his leaue of the knights, & tooke a narow way which lead him vp the hill vnto the castle, he wold not that his Squire shuld beare him company, but commanded him to remaine in the seruice of y^e Pagan Prince. Not long after the Troyan being moued of compassion, his heart could not suffer but néeds he must fol­low the Prince. And being in this determination he laced on his helme and tooke his shéeld, and with great trauaile for y^t he was a foote, he began to follow, and tooke the waye which the Gréeke went.

¶How that Rosicleer entered into the castle, and of the bat­taile he had therin, for to bring out of prison the princesse, spouse vnto the Prince Meridian who was in great tormēt. Cap. 17.

ROsicleer was a great while going vp that lit­tle hil, yet at length, although with great tra­uaile, one houre before that the Sunne did shew forth her shining beames, he got to the toppe of that hill, from whence he discerned [Page 252] a great and mightie broad plaine, and in it there was a fayre castel, wrought with verie many towers, whose battlements were of so great fairenesse, that with the Sun they shewed a very faire sight, on the one side the maine sea did beate on it, whose waters striking vpon y^e rockes did make a meruailous noise, which was caused by that hastie & furious wind Bori­as, and on that side whereas the Prince was, it was all com­passed about with a verie broade & déepe ditch or moate, and had in it but one entering, and that was verie narrow. The sight of that Castell did giue great contentment vnto them which beheld it, by reason it was so faire, and being so early in the morning, the windowes were not open. The Gréeke being all alone musing to himselfe, vppon a sodaine he heard ouer the gate of the Castle a window to be open, wherat loo­ked out a Gyant of so great height as he had not séene the lyke, he was in this shirt, and couered with a night gowne of black veluet, and séeing Rosicleer, he knew by his deuice that he was none of them of the castle, and when he saw and was certified that he was none of his knightes, he said: Knight, what doest thou séeke in this countrie, for as it doth appeare by thy straunge demeanour, thou shouldest be a stranger. To whom the Greeke aunswered and sayd: Thou saiest truth Gyant I am a straunger, for I neuer dwelt in it, but my fortune hath brought mée hether, béeing driuen by the great furie and tempests of the sea, and béeing a shoare I found in it a verie straunge aduenture, which hath giuen me occasion to come and speake with thée, if it bée thy pleasure to heare mée, eyther within the Castle or without it. At such time as this valyaunt Rosicleer was saying these wordes, hée had a sight of his face, his healme béeing vp, whereat might be séene his faire face, on whom the Gyant did very much behold, and answered.

If thou doest séeke mée I will heare thée in what sorte thou wilt, but if thou dost aske for the King my father, thou shalt vnderstand that he is not in the Iland, but is a broad a­bout businesse, forced of necessitie touching his kingdome. [Page] I would haue bene very glad, sayd Rosicleer, to haue founde the king thy Father, for that I doe vnderstand, that it should be he, who dyd assalt and take the Prince of the Scitas, & the worthy Troyan. And I am come to giue him to vnderstand, how he should entertaine and intreate, such knights as they are, and not with so great pryde to put them vnto such sorow and paine, & kepe the princes in prison, vsing them as though they were his vassailes, who had done some cruel & haynous offence against his owne person, or as rebells against theyr naturall Lorde and Prince, but he hath bene the bolder, for that he doth knowe they are a great waye from their owne countries. And I doe much maruaile, that such a person as thou art, wilt consent to the doing of such crueltie, for that it doth apeare, thou art sufficiently furnished with stature and strength. And thou semest vnto me, to be a very good knight, which doth bynde thée to acknowledge great modestie, & not to minister or consent vnto such crueltie. But I doe sée that thou art voide of all, and that thou hast no knowledge of the goodnesse whereunto thou art bound. Therefore if thou doest maintaine that which thy Father doth vpholde and sustaine in this Castell and Iland, is not euill: I will make thée to say the contrary, both of vs being to gether, therefore chuse whether thou wilt graunt me frée entry into the Castell, or whether thou wilt come forth where as I am. The Gyant dyd not show anye kinde of alteration in his countenance, neither did he aunswere with any proude wordes, but rather mittigating his yre, he sayde. Doe not beleue knight, that I am so blynde and so voyd of knowledge, that I doe not know what is good and what is euill. Neither will I consent that thou shalt speake euill of that which my father hath done, but rather I tell thée, y^t I will venter my person in his defence: therefore I bid thée to abyde, & thou shalt sée how I am not afrayde of the perill, for it shalbe more death vnto me to re­mayne aliue, with my honour blemished, then to dye in his quarell and defence. And I will commaund that the gates of the Castel shalbe open, and I do warrant that so long as our battaile shall indure, thou shalt not receue any harme. And if [Page 253] it be so that fortune doth runne on thy side, then can I not assure the any farther, for that I haue a brother, who is not so great a friend vnto courtesie as I am. Cause the gates to be open, sayde Rosicleer, and with y^e help of God I wil make my part good w^t all. But yet certes Giant beleue me, it doth greatly greue me to see thée maintaine such euill, as it doth a­peare in these thy wordes. And therewith he withdrew him selfe from the window, & called for his apparaile, & lykewise for his armour. His brother when he heard him speake with so great alterasion, he looked out at the same wyndow, for to sée who he was that gaue the occasion. This Gyant looked out with a diuelish semblaunce, an séeing the knight he sayd. Art thou he that hast defyed my brother, wherefore hast thou accused my Father for a traytour, and an euill and naughti [...] knight. I am he, sayde Rosicleer, who doe pretend to reuenge the wrong and force done vnto the Prince Meridian. O vile coward, sayde the Gyant, what diuel hath made thée so hardy to make an enterprise, that Mars himselfe durst not giue the like attempt. Oh ye Gods, how doe you consent y^e one poore knight should haue so much boldnesse, to put himselfe before me, with such a demaund. It grieued Rosicleer very much, to see himself to intreated, of a proude Giant, & aunswering him he sayde. In truth I haue defyed thy brother, who semeth to haue more discresion then thou hast. And in y^e same demaund I doe defie thée to mortall battaile. In the which I think to make thée know, the vylenesse of thy reasons, & the basenesse vsed in thy wordes. And take from that huge membred body, thy head, with the force of this my stronge arme. At which wordes the Gyant who first apeared, and was putting on his armour, sayde vnto his brother: This knight of his owne vertue and bountie doth come to be slayne, or els procure ly­bertie to the Princes, and he semeth to haue souerayne har­dinesse and strength, and there is no reason, to shew thy va­lour in speaking so proudly & vnsemely words, but with the fury of thy vntamed arme. And if the Gods doe graunt vnto him to haue the victory ouer me, there shal remayne time for thée to showe thy valoure. And there with he made him to [Page] withdrawe himselfe from the windowe, leauing Rosicleer verie well satisfied with his courtesie. So within a lyttle while after he heard them opening the gates of the Castle, & letting downe the draw bridge. Then the couragious Gréeke tooke the bridge and put himself within the castel into a very faire & large court, all adorned round about with rich win­dowes, and on the one side a verie faire Orchard, accompani­ed with verie sweete & odoriferous flowers, & all manner of sweete hearbs, in the which were many that were drossing those trées and hearbes, & putting them in order, some were occupyed in making of fine hedges and arbours, & others in husbanding the trees and cutting of them, others in digging of the ground, & others in setting of hearbes, who when they sawe Rosicleer, they all stayed from their worke, & imputed that knight to be verie vnwise to giue that enterprise, and a­mongst them was the Gyant who last of all spake vnto Ro­sicleer at the window, with a mightie great club in his hand, and for the defence of his bodie a simple harnesse, who sayde vnto Rosicleer: Come in, come in, thou hardie foole, for that thou shalt receiue the paiment of thy vndiscréet & foolish bold­nesse. The Prince without making anie aunswere went on forwards, & entering in at the other gate, he came into a very faire and paued Court, the which was compassed about with three faire galleries one aboue another, the Prince receiued great delight to sée the excellent worke of them. So not long after there descended downe a paire of staires the first giant, armed with strong armour, his shéelde on his arme, and a great broad cutting sword in his hand, who without speak­ing anie word assaulted him with mortall battaile. The wor­thie Gréeke was in a readinesse for to make his defence with his sword in his hand. The Gyant stroke at him a terrible blow right down, but the Gréeke with a light leap made him to misse his blow, and his swoord fell downe vpon the paue­ment, in such sort, that it made a great number of sparkes of fire to flie out, as soone as the blowe was passed, the Greeke stroke him vpon the arme, which blow was not verie great, for that he could not verie well reach him vnto his content­ment, [Page 254] yet for all that it did not let to cut his armour, flesh and all vnto the hard bone, and although the Gyant did feele the wound somewhat greeuous, yet did he procure to dissem­ble the feeling of the paine and griefe, and with the great an­ger he had to feele himselfe hurt, he threwe his sheelde from him to the ground, and tooke his greate sworde fast in both his handes, and returned thinking to haue stroke the Gréeke with double force more thē before, but he did procure to cléere himselfe as he did at the first, striking a blow at the Gyant, thinking to haue stroke him againe on his armes, but hee could not reach him, but it lighted vpon the Gyants sword, and the blowe was such, that the force of the steelie blade was not sufficient to make resistaunce, but that the swoorde of the Gréeke did enter in and made a great gappe, but the Gyauntes third blowe was such, that without resistaunce it chaunced vppon the Greekes shéelde, and all that euer it hit it carryed to the grounde, and parte of it lyghted on his healme, in such sort that Rosicleer was constrained to stoope with his knées to the grounde, but with greate lyghtnesse he arose vp againe, and béeing verie wrathfull that he had re­ceyued such a blowe, hée let loose his shéelde, and stepped to the Gyaunt with his sworde in both his handes, and stroke him vpon his left shoulder, and the blowe glaunced, but if it had chaunced to haue stroke him full, at that blowe hee had made an ende of the battaile, but for all that hée remayned verie sore hurt, and his swoorde fell to the grounde, and rai­sed manye sparkes of fire. The Gyaunt was verye much amazed at the power and strength of his enimie, but not in such sorte, that it shoulde cause in him anie weaknesse, but rather with a newe courage hée retourned vnto his be­gunne battaile, with so greate courage as though he had re­ceiued no hurt at all, at that time both of them stroke the one at the other with great strength & power, although the Gyaunt was verie much disturbed by reason of his wounds, but yet for all that he shewed greate prowesse. This battayle and contencion betwéene them continued more then two long houres, in which time there went from his [Page] wounds great aboundance of bloud, so in the ende, whether with werinesse of the long contempt, or with the losse of so much bloud, the Gyaunt could not kéepe himself on foote, but fell downe vnto the ground, as one y^t were dead. The prince who had thought he had bene dead, did not receue much de­light, for that he was a reasonable Gyant, and of much ver­tue and courtesie. But yet in great hast he went to pul of his helme, and then he hard that out of the Castel they began to crye out and sayde, holde thy hande euill knight, and doe not make an ende to kill our naturall Lord, for in doing it thou shalt dye the death. And loking about him to sée who it was that spake vnto him those threatning wordes, he saw desen­ding downe at a broade payre of stayres to the number of fiftene knights, who with a great rushing and noyse, being all very well armed, and semed to be very good knights, for that they were of a good disposition. And as he saw them cōming, with a furious courage, he encountred them and sayde. The name which you haue giuen me, I will make that hereafter you shall vse it no more, or els I will lose my lyfe. And ther­with he put himselfe amongst them, with so great furye, as the cruell and hongery Wolfe doeth amongst a company of simple sheepe, and stroke the first with so great strength, that with the fury of his arme, he cloue his head a sunder in the middest, but yet he could not let but receue great hurt of his person, for that he was assalted by them, who desired to re­uenge the death of theyr Lorde. The other Gyant cryed out against them, reuiling them with maruailous foule words, for that one alone knight should so long endure aliue in their handes. But this miserable people did not know with whom they made this contension, for if they had knowne & vnder­stode who was before them, they would not haue hilde this battaile, for they did not know how they had to do with the sonne of y^e Emperor Trebatio, against whome the Diamant Rockes doe seme weake, as it apeared by the great strength he had in wounding of them. For some he slew out right, and some were very sore hurt, but notwithstāding of those which did remaine, he was assalted very desperately, but this Greke [Page 255] séeing still their contention, his courage the more increased, and tooke his sword in both his hands, & stroke one of them so terrible a blow vpon the shoulder, that his sworde passed downe vnto his wast: so there remained but fiue of them, who altogether did strike at him such fiue blowes, y^t it made him to stoope with both his knées to the ground, the which the Prince did feele verye much, neuerthelesse with greate strength he arose vp againe, in spite of all them that stroke him, and it was vnto their harme, for that he was not so soone vp, when he stroke him that was next hand so terrible a blow vpon his helme, that he cut him downe vnto the sto­macke in two péeces, and casting about his sword ouer his head, he stroke another on the necke, that he made his heade flye from his shoulders, to the ground, the other thrée which remained, séeing the great slaughter that was made on their companions, and likewise themselues to be hurt and werye, they procured to runne away vp the staires, and they think­ing to flye from their death, fell into the like daunger, and rather worse, for that at the head of the staires, they met with the other Giant who was descending downe, giuing terrible shrikes, and meeting them with his mightie cutting sworde, he cut them all to péeces saying. Take the payment y^t such cowardes doo deserue. So leauing them dead, he descended downe the staires, and found this strong Rosicleer, leaning with his breast vpon the pomell of his sword, easing him­selfe somwhat of the great trauaile passed, but it indured with him but a small time, for that the Gyant lift vp his broade and mightie sword, and went toward him to strike him, but the Prince stoode still tarrying his comming, and was deter­mined to make y^e battaile more by pollicie then by strength, fearing that the wearinesse which he had receiued should bée the occasion that his force should faile him and his courage a­bate, if that peraduenture he should haue to doe with more then he had at that present before him. So when the Gyant came whereas the Prince was, he discharged his mightie stroke for to wound the Gréeke, but he with a light leap clée­red himselfe from the furie of that blowe, and closing with [Page] him in great hast, he stroke him vpon one of his legs, that his harnesse deceiued him, and he wounded him vnto the bone, but for all that the giant did not leaue to lay vpon him very thicke blowes, as one that was very expert in that exercise. It was great delight to sée how the Gréeke did cléere himself with great lightnesse from his blowes without féeling anie wearinesse. The Gyaunt with the greate furie that he had, made great hast in striking at the Prince, which was the oc­casion that he waxed wearie, and was verie sore vexed and troubled, and when the Gréeke perceiued his faint and trou­bled stomacke, he entred in & out with him with great light­nesse, procuring for to hurt the Gyant, and did it with greate ease, although the Gyant did not let likewise with great has [...] to strike mightie and terrible blowes at him. This Prince procured still to sée if he could finde time, that alonely with one blow he might make an end of the battaile without any perill to himselfe, notwithstanding he did not let to wounde him where he might, in many places the Gyant was all im­brued with bloud which issued out of the woundes hée had, and although they were not greate, yet they were trouble­some. This battaile indured a long time, for which cause, and the greate losse of bloud, this Gyaunt beganne to waxe feeble and weake. When the Gréeke perceiued this, and sée­ing that he did not make his assault with so great hast as be­fore, and although he was wearie with striking so manye blowes, which brought him almost to an ende, yet nowe a­gaine with great hast he stroke the Gyant many and terry­ble blowes, then the Gyant séeing himselfe so ill intreated, and knowing his end to be at hand, he cryed out making a great noise, which range through the aire, blaspheming against his Gods, and called all his Pages and household seruaunts, and sayd: O you lost creatures why doe you not come and helpe me? At whose noise and calling there came together aboue thirtie seruaunts, some with clubbes and staues, and some with stones, and compassed him rounde about, throwing stones at him so thicke, that hée coulde not approch vnto them, for they durst not come nigh vnto him, the stones ray­ned [Page 256] more thicker vpon the Gréeke; then y^e froson haile stones doth in the moneth of March, throwne downe by force out of obscure and tempestuous clouds, and although his armour were verie strong, yet for all that he did not let to receiue greate trouble by reason of those thicke blowes. The Greeke went towards them for to hurt them, but they ran in at the doores to saue themselues, as commonly they who doth baite a Bull with dartes in a trenched place, after they haue go­red him, they hide themselues in corners to saue them from the furie of his hornes, and tourning himselfe they straight waye torment him behinde: in this sorte did his seruaunts intreate this Gréeke, till such time that hée was constrained by his ire to goe agaynst them, shaking off his sworde, then as before they ranne awaie. So the Gréeke returned where­as the Gyaunt was, who was so wearie, that hée could not remoue out of the place where hée had lefte him, who clée­ring himselfe from one terrible blowe which the furyous Gyant stroke at him, presently retourned the lyke blowe, which lighted vpon his left shoulder, that hée opened the hard harnesse and the flesh vnto the bone. This blowe was not so soone giuen him, when that with great hast he stroke him with both his handes on his breast, and by reason that hée was weake and wearie, hée néeded not much strength to ouerthrowe him to the ground, who receiued on his backe a terrible fall. The Gréeke lykewise with the great strength that hée put to ouerthrowe him, fell to the grounde, but it fell out better with him then hée thought, for that falling, he rowled a good waye from the place whereas the Gyant fell, and straight waie with a trice hée arose vp againe, and found himselfe all to be compassed againe with the seruants, who battered at him with staues and stones, as many times a wall is battered with Artillerie. Some of them woulde haue runne and embrased themselues with him, thinking that he had not beene so nimble as he was, but when they sawe him on foote, they retyred backe againe with greate feare. At this time the Gyaunt beganne to arise, although it was [Page] with great trouble, but the Gréeke who was verie angrie to see himselfe so intreated with boies and seruants, with a trice he was with the Gyant, and before that he could put him­selfe on foote, he stroke him so terrible a blow with both his hands vpon the head, that he cut it in two péeces, and he fell dead to the ground. These seruantes when they sawe that their Lord was slaine, they all ranne awaie making a great noise. This worthie Greeke when he saw that the fierce gi­ant was dead, and that he was cleere from that conflict, hee went towards that place whereas he left the first Gyant, & when he came vnto him he pulled off his healme, at which time he heard one which from [...] windowes made a greate noise and sayd: O cruell knight, let this suffice thee, cease thy furie, with the great harme which thou hast done, and do not shew thy wrath vpon that Gyant, who hath no power for to make his defence, and if that his valour is not sufficient for to abate thy ire, let this sorrowfull infant moue thee to com­passion, whom thou hast caused to suffer great paine & griefe: The Prince looked vp and procured to sée who it was that spake vnto him, and he perceiued that it was a maide of a meruailous great disposition of bodie and verie faire of face, and wéeping, vnto whom he sayd: Faire Gentlewoman, the cause of my crueltie hath bene for to disturbe the great cru­eltie which you haue vsed with the sonnes of the Emperour Alicandro within this Castell, and touching this knight, you may beléeue me, that his death will be as much griefe vnto me as vnto you, for the great curtesie which I haue seene in him. At that time the Gyant was somewhat come to him­selfe, for by reason that the aire had catched him, he had some remembraunce, of the which the Prince was verie gladde, and turning vnto the Ladie he sayd. Faire Gentlewoman, if there be anie seruants in this castell, commaund them to put this knight into some place that he maye be cured of his woundes, and therewith he heard great knocking at y^e gate, and for to see who it was, he left the Gyaunt and went the­ther, and asking who was there that with such hast did call, he did vnderstand by his wordes that it was Orislides the [Page 263] Troyan, who could not come thether anie sooner, for that [...]ée went a foote. To whome the Gréeke did open the gate with great reioycing, and shutting the gat [...] againe they [...] [...] the Cou [...]t. When the Troyan saw [...] [...]o greate [...]aughter which was done there, he straight waie vn [...]erstoode that the knight was not come thether for nothing. This Gentlewo­man was with her brother, and did greatly wéepe▪ & bewa [...]le his vnhappie misfortune, who altho [...]gh he was som [...]what come to his remembraunce, [...] to arise vpon his [...]. The Prince commaunded that with great discretion, [...]e s [...]old [...]e taken vp by [...] of [...] ▪ and so carryed vnto his chamber, whereas without causing him for to rec [...]iue grief, he s [...]uld be vnarmed, y^t which was done with great diligence, and he was cured by the hands of his sister who made great lamentati [...]n [...] him, whom Brand [...] ­fidel (for so was the Gyaunt called) did comfort with [...]ye swéete and amorous words, the which caused the Prince to haue a great affection towards him, and it was with greate reason, for that the gyant was adorned with very much ver­tue. Oristides séeing all things in so good order, left y^e Prince who was seeking of the Princesse, and tooke a horse of the Giants, and a palfray, and returned to fetch Meridian. So after that Brandafidel was [...]red, the Prince demaunded in great hast for the Princesse, and the Giants sister was con­strained to go with him to bring him whereas she was. So they entred into a faire large hal, which led them into a par­ler, whereas was an old giantesse of a maruailous good pro­portion, who made great lamentation, for that it was tolde her of all that had passed in the Castle, who had in her com­pany more then thirtie Ladyes and Gentlewomen, which did comfort her: to whom the sister of the Giant sayd, La­dy, this Knight, to whom the Gods hath giuen so much po­wer, doth demaund the Princesse of the Scitas our prisoner, for whose cause, all this harme and euill happened vnto vs. This Lady with a grieuous sigh beholding the Prince said. O cruell murderer of my welbeloued sonnes, and faithfull seruaunts: make an ende to execute thy crueltie, showing [Page] the same and like vpon this vnfortunate Quéene; whose po­wer hath profited her very little. This good Gréeke béeing tender harted, when he heard so great lamentation he sayde: Quéene, doe not meruaile, for those which doo offend God, doo hope of no other thing, but punishment for their sinnes, & so those that liue with pride, cannot let but to be payed with the like. I doo desire thée to commaund the Princesse to bée giuen vnto me, whom thou hast in prison, for that she doth not deserue to be intreated amongest you as a prisoner, but as a Lady. The Quéene without giuing him any aunswer, threw vnto him two keyes which she had tied at her girdle, and afterward sayd vnto him: Under these thou shalt finde that which thou seekest, and enioye the glory which thou hast got by this occasion, til such time as he doth come, who with his mightie arme, will reuenge the great wrong, which thy good fortune hath brought to passe. The Gréek tooke y^e keies, and being led by that Gentlewoman (who wold neuer leaue him) they went out of that parler, and went vp a payre of staires, which brought them vnto another hall of no lesse bignesse then the first, and with the keye she opened a doore, and sayd: Enter O Knight, which hast as much crueltie as prowesse and strength, and there thou shalt finde her whome thou séekest. Faire Gentlewoman sayd Rosicleer, I doo not determine to enter, but that your highnesse shall goe before. This Princesse giuing a grieuous sigh entered in first, and brought him into a faire chamber, and then opened another doore, wherin they entred into another hall, very well garni­shed with many and faire windowes, which was towardes the Sea: at one of the which, there sate the Princesse, who was combing of her faire haire, and with her there was a Damsell, the which helde the glasse in her hands before her. When Rosicleer saw her, he receiued great pleasure and de­lyght, and for that the Princesse shoulde knowe him, he pul­led off his healme, and straight waye she knewe him, and with great alteration she arose vp against him, and sayde. Oh Gréeke Prince, the flower of all Knighthoode in the [Page 264] worlde, hath Fortune so much fauoured me, that all my griefes and sorrowes be finished, and likewise those of the prince my spouse, to whom y^e Prince aunswered with great reioycing and sayd. Most mightie Princesse, God of his boū ­tifull mercie, hath deliuered thée from so great care and trou­ble: wherefore know that you are cléere of all thraldome for this present. The sister of the Gyant, when she heard that the Knight was one of the Gréeke Princes, whose valour was blazed throughout all the world, her paine & griefe was so much the more, hauing before her so worthy an aduersa­rie, greatly fearing the comming of her father, lest ther shuld happen vnto him some inconuenience. So Rosicleer and the Princesses went out of that chamber, & the faire Giantesse folowed them, the Princesse had great desire to sée Meridian, but it was not long after, that in the case as before was told you he came. I cannot héere declare [...]he great delight which the two receiued when they saw themselues together. Wherfore I doo leaue the consideration thereof vnto them, that firmly and truly doo loue, and hath bene absent with like suc­cession of troubles and sorrow. The Gréeke was not for­getfull, to command that the Prince Meridian, should be put into a faire bed, and when he had ordayned that which was necessarie for all things, he asked for somewhat to eate, the which straight way was done, and the Tables layde in the chamber, where, Meridian laye, and all them of the Castle, were very much amazed, at the lybertie of Meridian, farre much more then of all that which happened before in the Castle.

The Gréeke Prince with amorous words and swéete perswasions, caused the Quéene and her Daughter to sit downe at the Table to eate, béeing somewhat comforted, for that they knewe howe that Brandafidel was without daunger of death, for that of them and of all the rest that were in the Castle, he was verye well beloued for his great vertue.

¶How the King Fangomadan came without know­ing of any thing that had happened in the Castle, and how he found the entrie closed, & of the bat­taile that was betweene him & Rosicleer. Cap. 18.

EXcéeding was the sorrow & care the Quéene and her daughter passed that night, alwaies looking for the comming of the king Fango­madan, the Princesse likewise was not with out some feare, mistrusting some other in­conuenience. The Gréeke alone was he, that tooke no care of those matters. The next day following, whē they wer at dinner, there came vnto them, one of y^e seruants that were in the Castle, and sayd vnto the Prince. Famous Knight, the King Fangomadan is at the Castle gate, showe vnto vs thy pleasure what we doe. There was not one that were there present but lost their colours at those words, sa­uing onely the Gréeke and the Troyan, who rising vp from the table, they commaunded that the draw bridge should be let downe, and Argolio to bring them their armour, which with a trice was brought vnto them, and they armed them selues. The Gréeke Prince looked out at one of the win­dowes which was ouer the gate of the Castle, to see howe [...] people he brought with him, and he sawe that he had with him but twentie Knights, and certaine foote men. And the King was mounted vpon a mightie Elephant, who seeing that the bridge was not let downe, neither the gates open, he began to tell out aloud, making a meruailous noise, and commaunded his people to knocke verye harde at the ring of the gate.

The Gréeke Prince, although his monstrous great­nesse did seeme to him terrible, yet he estéemed no more his furie, then as though he had bene very humble and milde, neither forced [...] anye thing of his greate pride, but with a high voyce he sayde. What a knocking makest thou there, thou monstrous Gyaunt? What haste hast thou to [Page 259] reuenge thy anger vpon the ring of the gate, thou must vn­derstand that thou canst not enter in heere, but thou must make thy conquest of the entrie with the force of thy strong arme. The Gyant being greatly amazed of that he heard, ca [...]t vp his eies to see who he was that was so bolde, and without curtesie spake vnto him those words, and he saw that he was a well set knight, of him vnknowen, and sayde vnto him: What is this that thou sayest, am not I king of this Iland and ouer all this land? Thou wert (sayd Rosicleer) but now for thy great pride and foolish hardinesse thou hast lost it, and it is now in my power: Where be my sonnes that kept it, sayd the Gyant, what is become of them? The Grake sayd, one of them is slaine by the strength of my arme, & the other yeelded, fulfilling that which he doth owe vnto the order of knighthoode, as it becommeth a good knight. Oh immortall Gods, sayd the king, is it possible to be true that I doe beare, that so vile a wretch as thou art should be the occasion of so much harme? O thou traitor and false knight, command the gates to be opened, for that thy great strength shall little a­uaile thee, if they be opened vnto mee. And if thou doest not command them to be open, I will so vse the matter, that nei­ther the deapth of the meate, nor towers of the castell, shal be able to make anie resistance against me for thy defence. And with the great madnesse which he had, he drew out his great and broad cutting sword, and with both his hands be stroke at the gate, as though he woulde cut it in peeces, but all his labour was in vaine, for that the gates were verie strong, and therewith the Prince Rosicleer determined to descende downe into the Court, and commaunded the Troyan that in the meane time that the battaile endured, that he should haue great care of the keeping of the gate, and tooke his healme of Argolio and laced it on, and also a strong and well stee­led sheeld, and when he came vnto the gate, he saw that the king was a foote, & beating at the gate with all his strength, to whom the Prince sayd.

Tarrie a while and I will open the gate vnto thée, make not so much hast. And in saying these words he opened a wic­ket, [Page] the Gyaunt when he sawe it, with an earnest furye hée thrust himselfe in thereat. The worthy Prince séeing him so hastie, with both his hands he thrust at him, and made him to recoyle backe a good way, and sayd. Kéepe thée backe thou furious beast, for heere thou hast no entring without my ly­cense. To whom the Gyant sayd: What dost thou thinke or pretend to doo? To make battaile with thée sayd y^e prince, therfore if thou wilt enter into the battaile, thou must come in alone. I am verye well content sayd the King, the which he spake with a great deale more meekenesse, than his greate pride did giue him license, or could suffer, and all to see him within the castle: for that he was perswaded with himselfe, that if he were once within, there were not in all the world one Knight that could ouercome him, neither make any re­sistaunce against his power. So Rosicleer commaunded that the gate might be open, whereat the Giaunt entred, and also his great Elephant. When the King was entred, the Troy­an had great care and diligence to shut the gate again, whom when the King knew, the more was his griefe: but w^t the great anger that he had, he made no stay, till such time as he came into the great Court, and there he mounted vppon his furious and great beast, and Argolio brought vnto his Lord his horse, and without profiting himselfe of the stirrop, he le­ped into the saddle. So when he was on horse back, he layd hand on his sword, and the Gyant on his great cutting fau­chon, & either of them assaulted the other, w^t mortal blowes. Héere it is requisit & necessary to leaue these two warriors in their battell till time shal serue, and I will tell you of the Emperour of Trapisond, the great and mightie Alfebo, who as you haue heard, when he vnderstood how y^• proud Brufal­doro without all feare of his Epitaph, had armed himselfe w^t the armor of Bramarant, he was straight taken in two extre­mities, y^e one for to accomplish y^t which he had promised, and the other for y^t he would not leaue his Emperiall Empire, but calling to remembrance, how y^t the Empres had a great delight in hunting, one morning betimes before that they did arise, he sayd. My Lady & Empres, it is not vnknowen vnto [Page 260] you, the dutie we owe vnto our noble courages, and howe much we are bounde by our high estates, to maintaine our foregotten honor, y^t which with great losse of our bloud and sweatings of our bodies we haue obtained. And this is of a certaintie, that he is more to be commended, y^t doth sustaine that which he hath gotten, then he which now doth win it, although y^e fortune doth fauor him: for many times when a man is in y^e top of his highnes, he grāteth things, y^t although he be in the best of his quietnes & rest, taking his case, yet he is bound to accomplish & performe his promise. It is wel knowen that y^e armor of Brama [...]ant was put for a Tropheo or memorie, vpon a high and mightie Pine trée, with an E­pitaph written, in the which my brother did promise & giue his word, to make defence, against whosoeuer woulde take them away, and I likewise did make the same promise. It is come now vnto my knowledge, that a Moore with his bolde courage, hath not only made little accompt of that which we haue promised, but also with the force of his arme, he hath slaine my verye great friende Zoylo the Prince of Tartaria, for the which I am bound to séeke out this Moore, for that I cannot say against the will of my brother: this is my pre­tence, (my good Lady and Empres) and I would be very glad that it might be with your good will. The Empresse who was very attentiue vnto y^e words which y^e Emperour Alfe­bo had spoken, she sayd. My Lord and Emperour, from the first time that I heard these newes which you now speake off, I did imagine that which now I haue heard, and I can­not denie that in séeing my selfe without you, it will be wel­néere my death, for that the heart with the which I doo su­staine my life will be absent: but for all that, considering that it is a thing that doth concerne your honour, I will ra­ther suffer the death in your absence, then disturbe you in that, which you are so much bound to fulfill. Therefore you may ordayne your departure when your pleasure is, and I doo desire you, that your returne may be with as much bre­uitie as maye be, and carrye with you in your companye the King Bramidoro.

[Page]The Emperour finding the aunswere of the Empresse so much to his contentment, he imbraced and kissed her with great loue, and straight he arose and procured to put in order his departure. And arming himselfe with the armour of Meridia, and mounted vpon his great horse, he commaunded to call the King, for to make himselfe ready to beare him cō ­pany, at the which he receiued great delight: and being in a readinesse, there was brought vnto him an Elephant, vppon the which he mounted. And so taking his leaue of his vas­sailes and subiects, the Emperour gaue them great charge to haue respect of obedience vnto their naturall Lady. Then the Emperour and Bramidoro departed from the Citie, & tooke with them in their company but one young gentleman, who was sonne vnto the Duke gf Alafonte, whose name was called Victorando, and he was of a very good disposition: so they trauailed sixe dayes, without finding anye aduenture worth the telling, but the seuenth day they chaunced into a great Forrest, full of meruailous mightie and thicke Trées, and by reason that the way was very narrow and not much vsed, they strayed and lost their right way, & vnawares they were so inclosed amongst y^e trées and bushes that they could not by any meanes finde, where they had lost their way. So all the rest of the day, they did no other thing but ride héere and there in the Forrest amongst the trées, but it was greate ease vnto them, for that the wildernes was very plain groūd although full of trees. The night came so vpō them, that they were constrained to alight from their horses, and amongest those trees, did eat of such victuals as Victorādo had brought with him: and the Emperour and the King did passe y^e time in such communication as they thought best to their cōtent­ment. In this order they passed the time till sleepe came vp­pon them, whereas they rested till next morning, the which beeing come, the Emperour mounted vpon his horse, and the King vpon his Elephant, and they returned to seeke the way, and going this way and that way, to see if they could happen on the way which shuld carie them out of that Forrest, they ha [...]ed to come vnto a little mountayne all of harde stone, [Page 261] in the which was a great caue, and thether they went, and alighting from their horses, they entred into the caue, & found that on the one part it was fall of [...]aye, and vpon the walls was hāged many quarters of vē [...]on, & of other wilde beasts, & found no other thing at all. & therewith they returned out againe, & went vnto the top of that rocke ouer the caue, & loo­ked about them on euerie side to see if there were any person thereabouts, but they could see no body. Then the King Bra­midoro sayd, it shall be good seeing that we haue flesh to see if there be any fire, that we may rost therof for to eate, for that I promise you I am so hungry, that if they tarry long, they shall sée that there hath bene in their lodging those, that haue had good will to eate. Then the Emperour laughed and said, I doo promise you of truth that I doo finde my selfe with no lesse desire to eate then you, and your coūsell doth like me well, and me thinke that our fortune should be the better if we could finde bread. The king sayd, I care not, for that I haue seene flesh, & therewith I doo thinke to fill my stomacke, and for any other thing, we shall sée what is to be found therin. Well let vs go in sayd y^e Emperour, for I feare me, that we shall be made to paye the shot. Therefore let vs bee well aduised & looke vnto your selues. Let me haue my bodie and stomacke satisfied, sayd the king, which now with hun­ger is somewhat troubled, & afterward at the paying of y^e rec­koning they shall see what money I haue, & alighting againe from their horse, they entered into the caue, & seeking if there wer any fire, they found some raked vp in y^e ashes, at y^t which the king receiued great ioy, so straight way they made a fire with woode, y^t they found there, & put to roast halfe a deere, which they thought to be y^e fairest amongst all y^e rest y^t were ther, & looking about they found in another hole which was in y^e wall of the caue good store of bread, although it was some­what browne, & tooke therof y^t which they thought sufficient. And when their venison was rosted, they tooke it out of the ca [...]e, & sat downe vnder certaine trées, which were hard by a little riuer therby, & did eat so sauerly & with so good a tast, as though they had bene furnished with their accustomed dain­ties [Page] in their Pallaices, but they alwaies had a care vnto the maine chaunce, to see if their host did come. Victorando who also was eating of the venisō, with a verie good grace he said: I do beleue that our host will not like of our ouermuch dili­gence heerin, whē he shall find lacking some of his flesh, I be­léeue they will demaund the more of vs for our shot: One for one said y^e king, my stomacke being satisfied, then wil I heare them all, & let them demaund for their reckoning what they please: I am afraid said the Emperour y^t it must be paid with sists, for y^t we haue ben so bold to eate their victuals without lisence. Yet in one thing I do comfort my selfe said the king, for I haue nothing to loose, & againe I am in company with y^e power of the best knight in the world, & in saying this they held their peace, for y^t they heard a rushing amongst y^e bushes, which made them to leaue of their talke, & to put themselues in a readinesse, whatsoeuer should happen, so they arose vp & laced on their helmes, & beholding what it should be y^e caused y^t great noise, they sawe y^t it were two great giants as big as two mightie Pine trées, who w^tout séeing their guests went into their caue, y^e one of them brought vpon his back a migh­tie great hart, & the other a great bristled Bore, & when they found fire in the caue & the lack of their flesh, they gaue great shrikes & returned out of their caue. Then the king w^t laugh­ing said: In good faith I do beléeue y^t they come to demaund of vs the reckoning & to pay y^e shot. And being in this spéech y^e giants came forth of the caue & put themselues in place wheras they might see thē, & like beasts, without saying any word each of them assaulted his contrarie. The valiant king drew out his broad cutting sword, & went forth to receiue him in the way y^t was comming towards him, the Emperour did y^e like with his precious sword in his hand, the Gyants both together discharged their heauie & mightie blowes, the Em­perour with his accustomed discreation caused the Gyant to loose his blow, & therewith entred into him with great light­nesse, & stroke him vnder y^e side with the point of his sword, & by reason of his ill armour, it appeared on y^e other part of his bodie, causing him to fal dead to y^e ground, & looking aside [Page 262] for his companion the king, he saw y^t at one blow he cut of y^e gyants leg, who with no lesse noise then the other fell to the ground, but when they saw this resistance to be so quickly fi­nished, y^t king laughing said: In good faith, seeing it hath plea­sed God to help vs so quickly to pay our reckoning, I doe not meane to depart but to carrie with vs some prouision, & therwith cōmanded Victorando to take that venison which they brought, & the bread which remained, & to carry it with him, so they returned their way, not knowing whether they went, for y^t the more they trauailed the more they put themselues into y^e forrest, till night drew on, at which time they founde themselues amongest a companie of thicke trées, there they were constrained to alight and lodge themselues vnder those thicke trées, & cōmanded to take out of y^t which they brought for their supper, which being done they tooke their rest till the next morning, which appeared vnto them very faire & cléere, & at such time as the Sun had spread abroad his beames vp­pon those high & mightie trées they retourned vnto their vn­knowen way, till at y^e last they chaunced into a narow path, not much vsed, the which they followed, the Emperour rode before, & the king next, & Victorando came after them, and in this order they trauailed a good while without mistrusting of anie thing y^t should happen, & trauaillng in this sorte, vpon a sodaine (without knowing y^e occasion) Cornerino started, and rose vp with his fore féet, & gaue a turne in y^e aire backward, likewise the heauie Elephant stretched out his long & broade snout, & began to make a hoarse noise, the horse of Victoran­do being afraide, had almost throwen his master vnder feet, wherewith the Emperour and the king looked rounde about them on euery side, to sée who or what it was that caused so much feare, but they sawe nothing, and it was the occasion that they were somewhat troubled. Then the king said, what a diuell should this be that hath caused so great alteration in our horses, hath héere passed by anie fiend, or doth there any diuell remaine lodged amongest these bushes, well let it bée what it shall be, for with the fauour of God, if I dooe méete him I will giue him his paiment, for scarring of our horses, [Page] for that I doe not feare him, and I thanke God I neuer fea­red neither diuel nor man. These words he spake with great courage and maiestie. The Emperour in hearing him speake these words, he could not refraine himselfe but he must néeds laugh. So straight waie they came out of y^e thickest of that woode, and came vnto a riuer side which was verie déepe, and was knowne by the Emperour to be that which ranne tho­rough all the Forrests and wildernesses of Grecia, and tra­uailing alongst by the riuer, within a little while their horses began againe to stagger and to be afraide, and looking about them to see if they coulde perceiue what it should be y^t made their beasts so afraide, straight waie they might sée a terrible monster which did crosse ouer the forrest, of a verie greate & straunge making, who was as great as a Gyant, and was so broad that he was almost foure square, his face was thrée spannes long, and had but one eie, and that was in his fore­head, and all his body was couered with verie long haire, and in his breast there was as though it had bene a glasse, out of the which there was a greate shining light, this monster di­rected his waie towards certaine houses which were in the forrest, but by reason of the stragling & the great noise which the horses made, he cast his head aside, and when hée sawe them, with a diuellish furie he came towards them, and had in his hand in steede of a clubbe a mightie great and knotted Pine trée. This valiant Greeke who was neuer dismaied at the sight of anie such monster, when he sawe so deformed a beast comming towards him, he chéered vp his horse, & pric­ked him with his spurres, and giuing a great shout he drewe out his mightie cutting sword and did abide the furie of the monster, who came roaring like a Bull, and discharged his great club vpon the Gréeke, who with a light leape caused by pricking of his horse, he cléered himselfe of that blow, that his club fell downe to the ground, and as wel as he could he chée­red his horse againe, and entered in with the monster on the one side, and gaue him so terrible an encounter, that he made him to fall flat to the ground, and by reason that the strength of the monster was terrible, it could not be but that the horse [Page 257] must receiue some harme, and in passing by he tumbled vp­pon the monster, that he was forced to fall with his master to the ground, but when the Emperour perceiued that his horse must néedes fall, with great lightnesse he left the sad­dle, leaping on the one side, and saued himselfe from the dan­ger that might happen, the horse when he sawe himselfe im­braced with the monster, was so scarred and amazed, y^t with great lightnesse he rose vp and ranne from him as an a [...]ow out of a vowe. The Emperour looked to sée where the king was, and he saw him beholding the terrible battaile, and al­so how Victorando was on foot throwne downe by his horse with the great feare he had, but this looking about of y^e Em­perour was quickly forgotten, for that the monster arose and came against him againe with his great trée aloft, readie to discharge it vpon him, but he determined to let it slip by, as before, and therwith to enter in with him and to strike him, and so he did, for the blowe was not so soone past as he step­ped in, and stroke a full blowe at his thigh, but he made but a small wound, by reason of the hardnesse of haire y^t made great defence, which caused the Emperour to meruaile much thereat. This diuellish monster when he sawe his owne bloud, in a mad rage he laide about him with his great club, procuring with his terrible and thicke blowes to destroye the Emperour. The great hast which the monster made to strike the Emperour was such, that he was constrained to vse all his pollicie and lightnesse for to cléere himselfe from those terrible blowes, he stroke them so fast, and neuer lost a­nie time of dauntage when that he might hurt him, but still continually stroke and cut him on those hairie legs, that hée made more then sixe wounds, in such sort, that the grounde whereas they were was couered with the bloud of the mon­ster, the monster séeing himselfe so troubled, and onely with one knight, he began to double his blowes in so great hast, that the Emperour was not able to cleere himselfe from thē, but that needs he must receiue one of them, and if it had not bene but that the Emperour did ward it with the edge of his sworde and with his st [...]ye sheelde, it had fallen out worse [Page] with him then it did, but it was not so little but that it ouer­threwe him to the ground, as one that hadde bene dead, but so much of the club as touched the edge of his swoord was cut a sunder, the king Bramidoro when he sawe the Gréeke so fallen downe to the ground, he pressed with his Elephant towards the monster, for to reuenge that terrible blow, who when he sawe him come towardes him, like vnto a whirle winde he made towards the houses that were thereby, and in great hast he threw himselfe into a caue, throwing downe af­ter him a great rocke which did shut vp the entrie, the which was done with so great lightnesse, that the king had no pow­er to strike him, and blessing himselfe to sée so sodaine and so straunge a thing, he returned vnto the place whereas the em­perour was, whom he found come vnto himselfe againe and on foote, and was mounting on horse back, and when he saw the king comming, he said: Haue you séene so vgly a thing as that is so quickly ouerthrowne, with that little blow which I gaue him, and ouerthrowne as one woulde ouerthrowe a bird to the ground. Do you account that a little blow sayd y^e king, then doe not I know what is a greate and a mightye blowe. Then the Emperour sayd: where is that diuellish monster become, tell me if you can, or if you haue séene him goe awaie: he hath throwen himselfe into hell said the king, for hard by yonder houses he put himselfe into a caue wher­as I could not follow him, and of truth I doe tell you, if I could enter in where he entered, I would not, for y^t I thinke he is amongst and in companie with the diuells, & therewith the Emperour was mounted a horse back, and was so furi­ous & so full of cholar, that rockes and mountaines were not sufficient to make resistaunce against his strength, and so with a trice he rode vnto the place whereas the monster en­tered in, and without anie foresight he alighted frō his horse, and procured to take awaie that great stone that was at the mouth of the caue, the which he did without anie diffi­cultnesse, but yet for all that he coulde not finde which waye he might enter in thereat, but like vnto a Lyon with greate anger, fretting and chafing, he went round about that rocke [Page 268] to sée if he could finde anie entrie, at the last he found a great clift in the rocke, and looking in thereat, he sawe that greate monster, wheras he lay all along on the floore, and séeing him he sayd: Oh traitor and a destroier by the high waies, oh thou infernall diuell, the strong and fast shutting in this rock shal little auaile thée, and thinke that thou shalt not lie long ther at thine ease. So he began with his hands to proue if he could teare that rocke to make waie where he might enter, and put so much strength vnto it, and againe with his rage, that hée tore a great part of it awaie, in such sort that the king was verie much amazed at the great force & strength y^t he shewed, and when he had done this, he looked againe at the monster and sayd: Oh euill and diuellish creature, what doest thou thinke (although thou art in hell) to escape my hands, & going from thence he went round about the rocke againe, to sée if he could finde where with lesse difficultnesse he might enter, but he could not finde anie, in the meane time by reason that ther was no noise, the monster had thought that the Empe­rour had bene gone, and came vnto the clift of the rocke to sée if he could heare or sée him. The Emperour who retourned vnto that same place againe, & sawe the monster in such sort at the clift that he might strike him with his sword, with great hast & good diligence he cast at him so terrible a thrust in at the cleft, which chaunced vpon his vnarmed head, that it passed through downe to his threat, in such sort y^t the great monster fell downe dead to the ground. The Emperour did well knowe that he had wounded the monster, but he belée­ued it was not with so great strength as to ouerthrow him, for that the cleft was verie narowe whereas he thrust the foine, and for to sée what succéeded of that blow, he knéeled downe and looked in, and sawe the monster lie all along on the floore starke dead, the Emperour séeing him in that sort, sayd: What did this diuell thinke that he should not paye me y^t villanous blowe which he gaue mée. When the King heard him saie these wordes he alighted from his Elephant to sée what hadde happened, and he sawe him lye all along dead vpon the ground, & of his straunge and great stature hée [Page] verie much meruailed, then with a great and lowde voice hée sayd: O God how much hath it pleased thy diuine maiestie to furnish this good knight with all strengthe and prowesse, more then anie in all the world. It could not choose but that this good Emperour was verie wearie of this his great tra­uaile, the which was the occasion that he did withdraw him­selfe and sate downe in the shadow vnder a great Pine tree, and had Victorando to giue him of that which he brought to eate, the which was done with a trice. Likewise he brought him freshe water from the Riuer, wherewith he did [...] himselfe verie much. So when the Emperour had satisfyed himselfe of that which was néedfull, he arose vp, and went towards those houses to beholde them, and he sawe that they were all wrought with blacke stone. Likewise he sawe vp­pon the sayd Pine trée, vnder which he sat, an Epitaph writ­ten, and when he had read it, he knew it to be the place wher as Bramarant did kill himself, and how that was the Epitaph which his brother had put there, for a remembraunce of the Moores armour, at all the which when he sawe, he founde in himselfe a great confusion.

¶Of the battaile which Claridiano had with the Prince of Palestina, and how he had the victorie, giuing liber­tie vnto Antimisca, and vnto all the rest. Cap. 19.

WHen this mightie Emperour vnderstood that to be the place and the house which the prin­cesse Tigliafa had made, without anie more tarrying, finding the doore open he entered in thereat, till he came into a verie faire court, in the midst whereof stood a stage, wrought and laide vpon foure pillers, which were likewise of blacke stone, which from the foote to the top went in proportion lesse and lesse, and vpon it there was a tombe, the which was co­uered all with blacke cloth, and vpon the tombe was there an armed knight all saue the head, the which séemed to bée broken and torne in many places. The Emperour procuring [Page 264] to knowe who it shoulde be, he sawe that it was Zoilo the Tartarian, at which sight he could not let to receiue great sor­rowe to see his friend dead, and béeing in this wise he sawe a doore opened on the one side of the Court, out of the which came forth y^e vnfortunate Princesse of Tigliafa all in mour­ning apparell, and her face couered with a black Lawne, and after her came sixe Gentlewomen in the same manner, who neuer staied tyll they came vnto the scaffolde. The Princesse stayed not but went vp the staires (without séeing who was within the court,) but with great sighs and teares, with her countenaunce verie heauie▪ [...]dde, and sorrowfull, in such la­mentable wise that it would haue moued anie heart to haue had compassion, who began to speake certaine words which in their places shall be rehearsed, for y^t I am now constray­ned to declare of the battaile that was begunne betwéene the light of all knighthood and the furious Palestinian. You haue heard how that these two knights were in a readynesse vnto the battaile, and how that with their Speares in their rests the one ranne against the other, and in the middest of theyr course they met the one with the other, neither of them mis­sing his blowe, but it was with so greate furie and strength, that their knotted Speares flewe all to shéeuers in the ayre, and they passed the one by y^e other without moouing, or anye hurt done, and retourning theyr horses, the Palestinian be­ganne first to strike at this noble warryour, giuing him terrible blowes vppon his strong and stéelie helme, with so great furie, that hée made abundaunce of sparkes to flye out thereat. Héere the Prince vnderstoode and felt the great and mightie strength of the Moore, but quickly hee gaue him his payment, with a more furious blowe then hée receyued, in such sorte that hée made all the members of the Palestini­an to tremble and shake, and his teeth to chatter in his head, this blowe made this barbarous Prince verye much ama­zed, but by reason that hée was of great valour hée retour­ned and lyfted vp his sworde, and beganne with the lyke furie to laye vppon his enimie, in such sorte that the bat­tayle beganne to bée verie terrible, and with greate strength [Page] and hast, they stroke the one the other, in such sort, that those which were looking on many times lost their sight with the great brightnesse and flame of fire that flewe out of their ar­mour and stéelie helmes. This battaile betwixt them con­tinued a great while without knowing anie aduauntage, or who was the better of them, the which caused eyther of them to haue the more furie and anger. The Palestinian sée­ing the great resistaunce of his enimie, roaring like a baited Bull, threw his shéelde at his backe, and tooke his swoord in both his handes, and stroke so terrible a blowe vppon the fine Magicall armour of the Prince, that hée made him to fall forwardes, and leane his forehead vpon the horse eares, causing his eyes to d [...]sell in his head, and straight way vp­pon the same he strake him another blowe vppon the backe, which did make a sound through all the Castel. The Prince recouered himselfe agayne, and séeing him with his Swoord alofte for to discharge the third blowe, he procured to cléere himselfe from the same and from the furie wherewith it did descend, the which he did with greate lyghtnesse in spurring his horse, hée had not so soone passed the blowe when that hée returned his horse verie swiftlye and ioyned with the Pagan, hauing his sworde alofte, discharging it vppon his healme with so great furie, that hee made him to fall back­wardes vpon his horse crouper cleane without anie remem­braunce, theyr horses at that terrible blowe were meruay­lously scarred, in such sorte, that they were separated the one from the other a greate space, which was the occasion that the Pagan had time to remember himselfe, and to settle himselfe againe in his saddle, and to recouer his sworde a­gayne, which was fallen out of his hande and hung by the chaine at his wrist. The Prince with double furie and force pricked his horse and ioyned with the Pagan, and stroke him a mightie blowe vppon his healme, which glanced and fell vpon his lefte shoulder, putting him to so greate payne, that it made him to shrinke and double his bodie forwards downe to his horse necke, the Pagan straight way was vp­right [Page 270] againe, and stroke at his aduersarie so terrible a blowe, that hée nothing aduaunced himselfe of that which was past, wherewith the Prince firming himselfe in his stirops, stroke at the Pagan a mightie blowe, at such time as his horse somewhat started, wich was the occasion that hée coulde not haue his full thereof, but with the point of his sworde hée hit him on the Beauer of his healme, that many sparkles flewe out and so descended vnto his breast, till it came and lighted vpon his horse head, cutting it in two péeces that hée fell dead to the ground, so that the Pagan remained on foote without a horse, and by reason that he was a valiant knight, he cléered himselfe from his dead horse with a trice and said. Uillaine, do not thou thinke that the killing of my horse shall auaile thée anie thing, but that with the strength of my arme I will teare thée in péeces. I doe sweare vnto thée by the warlike Mars, sayd Claridiano, that it doth grée [...]e me of that which is done, & that I shuld receiue more contentment to sée thy head in the sort that thy horses head is, and vnder­stand, that I am not accustomed to shew my valiauntnesse a­gainst a beast, and because thou shalt not account mée for a villaine but change my name, tarrie a while & I will alight from my horse. And saying these words with great lightnesse he left the saddle and put himselfe on foote, and therewith the one pressed to the other with great furie, that the battaile be­gan a new, and with more rigour then before, for that y^e one stroke the other in such great hast that it was a wonder to sée. And being both inflamed and ouercome w^t anger, they could not vse anie pollicie, but all was by force & strength, being so terrible, that each one feared the worthinesse of his enimie. This they continued a great time, till in the end it was per­ceiued the aduantage that the Prince had in striking his ad­uersarie, & the great lightnesse which he vsed in entring in to the Pagan, & cléering himself againe still continuing his ter­rible assaults & mightie thicke blowes, notwithstanding the Palestinian in this time was not idle nor void of [...]are, but va­liantly did make his defence against his enimie, and did such déedes as it was straunge and worthie of greate honour. [Page] So in this contention they endured more then two houres, in which time these knightes had no patience to loose, for that they were cleane voyde thereof. But oh miserable Pagan, what doth profite thée thy furie, strength, and lightnesse, for that thou doest deale with the worthie Claridiano, when as no strength nor force is to be compared vnto his. The Gréeke seeing that with one alone knight the battaile indu­red so long, beeing more kindeled in ire and wrath, hée tooke fast holde of his sworde in his hande, and stroke the Pagan with such surmounted furie and strength vppon the healme, that he cloue it and the head in two péeces that he fell dead to the ground, when the king sawe that terrible blowe, he re­ceiued great contentment therat. Likewise the Prince of Chaldaea and the faire Antemisca, who with great hast went to embrase him, and almost beside themselues with ioye to be cléere from their captiuitie. Then Claridiano asked of thē if there were anie more to bée done to giue them frée liber­tie, the king newlye imbraced him with the greate delight which he had and said. Oh the [...]ustainer of all the glorie and honour of Mesapotamia, what seruice may I doe vnto the Gods to gratifie this goodnesse which they haue vsed with mée, that in the end of so many trauailes and troubles I doe recouer my libertie by the hands of him which is taken héere on earth for one of the Gods. The Prince Claridiano aun­swered and sayd: Soueraigne king, the Gods did consent vn­to thy iustice and right, for that they could helpe thée, Iupi­ter beeing so vpright would doe iustice, and in especiall in a thing so apparaunt as this was, and therefore thou mayst at­tribute the same vnto him, and gratifie him, and lykewise the great vertue of Antemisca. And with these and such like reasons they went towardes the Pallaice, and lead the faire Antemisca by the hand, who was very ioyful, & straight way they vnarmed Claridiano, and gaue him Suckets and con­serues, for to comfort him of the greate trauaile and trouble which hée hadde passed, and serued him with so greate ma­iestie as though they had known him to be the sonne of high and mightie parents.

[Page 271] Antemisca thanking him for all that he had done for them, sayd: O flower of knighthood, & defender of my royall fame and honestie, what power is sufficient to make satisfaction of so great a benefit, and in especiall where all power doeth lacke. Faire Ladie, said Claridiano, your great vertue & ho­nestie caused me to haue the more power and force, for to fru­strate this false accusation laide against you, and now being at libertie (noble Ladie) let not these angers and wrongs past be any occasion of disturbance, but rather permit that the bo­die of this vnhappie king may be buried according vnto his estate, and in so doing thou shalt shew y^e great vertue which doth remaine in thée, to frustrate al iniuries past. This I do desire you to consent vnto, in that you are bounde vnto it by your high estate, and not for anie desert, dew vnto such a poore knight as I am. Poore, sayde Antemisca, héere I doe sweare vnto you by that which I owe vnto all vertue due vnto mine owne person, that I doe determine in seruing of you to doe as much as in the seruice of Iupiter, for y^t I take thée to be one of the Gods, as it hath appeared by the greate valour which I haue seene sh [...]wed by thée. And whatsoeuer your pleasure is to commaund to be d [...]o [...] vnto this dead bo­die (although he doth not deserue it) it shall be wholy accom­plished, and straight waie it was put in vre. This valyaunt knight remained there certaine dayes whereas he was ser­ued with great maiestie, in which time the two louers we [...]e married, wheras was made meruailous great [...] and tri­umphs, the which for auoiding tediousnesse I doe on it a [...]d will make no mention thereof, & for that this valiant knight was prisoner to the Pastora he neither receiued contentment nor ioy in his heart in so long [...]arrying, which was the oc­casion y^t Claridiano tooke his leaue for to depart of y^• Prin­cesse of Chaldea ▪ which was cleane contrarie [...]to the goodwill of Antemisca, for that she loued him mer [...]ailous [...]y for his great vertue, and with many teares she tooke her leau [...] of him, giuing him certaine presents and gifts necessarie for his trauaile, so he departed taking his iourney, onely with Fide­lio, his squire, towardes the plaines of Ierosolima, and p [...]s [...]ed [Page] by Armenia the great, whereas happened vnto him many & straunge aduentures.

¶How that Claridiano trauailed by Armenia, and of the straunge aduentures which hapned him in that coun­trie. Cap. 20.

THE valiaunt Gréeke Claridiano trauailed through Armenia the greate, with no com­panie but his Squire, although his thought was not solitarie, but alwayes represented in his heart the cause of all his griefe and sorrow. So in this sort he trauailed a while till it chanced one morning at such time as the Sun began his accustomed iourney, that he must passe a great & mightie riuer ouer a bridge, and at the end thereof there was a for­tresse wrought after the fashion of a Bulwarke, for that be­low at the beginning it was verie bigge, hauing in the midst of it a great tower, with a louer hole, and vpon the same was put a standard, which with the winde was mooued from the one side to the other. The Prince following his iourney o­uer the bridge, without anie impediment would haue passed forwards on his waie, but by anie meanes he could not, by reason of a great, broade, and déepe ditch, which was made on the other side, beginning from the Riuer, and making a compasse lyke a whoope, which inuironed all the whole for­tresse, and came againe and ioyned vnto the sayde Riuer, on the one side, so that the fortresse remayned in the mid­diest, and there was no other waye to take, but that they must néedes passe through the fortresse. So when the Prince came vnto a verie strong gate of yron, hée tooke the King in his hande and gaue three greate blowes, at the noise wher­of there was a windowe opened, whereat there appeared a Gentlewoman of a middle age, who séemed to haue her eyes swollen with wéepings, who said.

Knight, what is it that thou doest séeke héere in this in­fernall Castell, if thou wilt haue passage séeke it by some [Page 272] other waye, and it shall bée better for thée, for in procuring to passe this waie thou shalt get no other thing but death, but and if thou wilt not turne backe by reason of the good opinion which thou hast in thy great valour and strength, take and [...]ound that horne which hangeth ther vpon that pil­ler on the right hand, which béeing heard, the entrie shall bée fréely giuen vnto thée, but the going out is vnpossible. And in saying those words she shut the windowe in greate hast and went in. The Prince cast about his horse towards the right hand whereas he sawe a piller of the height of a man, & ther­at hanged a rich horne, and by it a péech of parchment rowled vp, and laying hand vpon the horne he could not moue it, al­though he did striue mightely to doe it, and vnderstanding y^e first he must vndoe the Parchment and read that which was written in it, he tooke it and vnrowled it, and saw that it con­stained that which followeth.

‘At this present raigneth a King in Arabia, and although he bee a Pagan, yet hée is adorned with noble and vertuous customes, and had onely one daughter that was verie fayre, humble, and chast, and was beloued of the Duke of Fedra, vassall vnto the same king, the Dukes name was Velegra­to, a young man, with a seuere and graue countenaunce, who deserued better the gouernment then anie other Pagan, hée was verie well estéemed in all the Kingdome, almost equal­ly with the king, for the which there ingendered in the kings heart a secreat rancour and hatred. This Duke did loue the Princesse who was called Damelis, and it was the Gods will that shée should repaie him with the same loue, [...]o that both theyr heartes beeing wounded with loue, the one to the other, the fire kindled dayly more and more, in such sort, that neither the one nor the other had anie imagination but one­ly to loue, and not knowing how to manifest theyr griefes, they indured sundrie greate passions. Then loue which con­tinually seeketh occasions, did on a time set before this duke a Gentlewoman, which thing seemed to be wrought by the order of y^e Goddesse Venus. Oh what great feare this knight [Page] had for to discouer vnto her all his heart: but in the end, by the great industrie of this Gentlewoman, there was order giuen that these two louers should meete together. Heere I will not detaine them that shall read this, in telling of the great delight which both of them receiued to sée themselues together, but such it was that she was made a Ladye. This faire Damelis, for that she coulde not at her ease enioye her Velegrato, she did determine to leaue her own natural coun­trey & father, and with this intention, one night being with her louer, she cast her armes about his necke and sayde. Oh my sweete and welbeloued friend, séeing that the soueraigne Gods haue bene to me so grateful, that I doo deserue to haue a louer, let me not finde in thée ingratitude, for that I cannot passe my time, except continually I enioye thy fight, and doo not muse my Lord at this that I doo say, for that the ouer­much loue that I haue to you, doth constrayne me to make it manifest, and this beléeue of a certaintie, that if thy sight be absent from me, if will be the occasion, that my hart shal lacke his vitall recreation. And you doo well know how that the King my father doth beare you no good will, which will be the occasion, that we cannot enioye the one the other, as my heart desireth: for the which, I haue determined (if you doo thinke well thereof) to leaue both my father and Coun­trey, and to goe and liue with you alone in a straunge Coun­trey. And if you doo denie me this, verye quickly you shall see your welbeloued Ladye without life: but I doo beleeue you wil not denie me this thing, the which I doo so much de­sire, and in whom doth consist so much vertue, and therwith shedding a few teares from her eyes, she helde her peace. The Duke beeing halfe amased, aunswered and sayde: Oh my loue and sweete Mistresse, wherfore haue you any doubt that I wil not fulfill & accomplish your desire in all things, therefore out of hand put all things in order, that your will is to haue done: for what more benefite and contentment can I receiue, then to enioye you continually, in such sorte, that neither of vs may depart the one from the other: and if it so fall out, that Fortune will be so contrary against vs, [Page 273] that we be spied, and we be taken, and suffer death together, what more glory can ther be vnto me, then to die with th [...] ▪ Therefore doo not trouble your selfe my sweete Lady & Mi­stresse, but giue me time that I may goe into my Country, and to giue order in such sort that your whole will may bee accomplished, and in the meane time make your selfe in a re­dinesse for your departure: and so with this conclusion they tooke their leaue the one of the other, and the Duke wente into his Countrey, giuing order for to accomplish his deter­mined thought. So when that all thing was put in good or­der, the Duke with as much secrecie as might be, re [...]ourned vnto the place whereas Damelis was, very well armed, ad­uertising her, how he was come for to carry her away, who was in a readinesse for to accomplish her desire, and had in her company the Gentlewoman her secretarie that was cal­led Floria, and so in great secret and without making anye noyse, they departed out of the Kings Pallaice her father, & went vnto the place whereas the Duke was tarrying their comming, who when he saw them without any more tarry­ing, he mounted her vpon an ambling Palfray, and her gen­tlewoman vpon another, and tooke the waie towards Mesa­potamia with all hast possible. They vsed such diligence, that without beeing perceiued, they went out of the kingdome, & came to a place whereas the Duke had lefte cer [...]aine d [...]m­sells and squires, for to beare Damelis company, whom they found all in a readinesse for to take their iourney, and for that they were mistrustfull they would not tarrie there, but passed through Mesapotamia till they came vnto Armenia, whereas without anie misfortune they came vnto the ri­uer Derraus, vnto a place whereas the déepe and cléere waters doo strike continually vpon a mightie Rocke, vpon the which was an olde and auncient building, and in some partes it was verye strong, and in other partes by reason of the antiquitie it was fallen downe.’

‘And for to enter into it, they must of force goe vp certayne stayres, and beeing aloft, they thought it a conuenient place for theyr dwelling, whereas they might without all feare of [Page] béeing found, liue peaceably, enioying the one y^• others loue, & not farre from that place there was a small village, from whence they might make their prouision of all that was ne­ssarie, for the maintaining of their bodies. Great ioye and pleasure these two louers receiued, when they found them­selues in such a place whereas they might take their ease, & enioye their loues. The Duke delighted in no other thing, but to goe a hunting with his Squires and Pages, leauing his sweete Damelis, accompanied with her damosells in that strong house, aduising them alwayes not to open the gates, except they should aunswere vnto a watch word, and many times for her contentment▪ Damelis would goe and méete with the Duke at the gates. So in this order they liued to­gether foure yeares: but in the ende, Time who neuer rest­eth in one degrée, did take from them their rest, giuing them double trauaile and sorrow. For that when the King her fa­ther found her missing, the sorrow and griefe was so much that he receiued, that he kept his chamber a long time, and would not come foorth of it, and if it had not bene for speci­all businesse, necessarie for his kingdome, he wold (as I say) neuer haue come forth: and although he was occupied very much therein, yet could he not forget his great griefe, calling many times vpon his welbeloued daughter. All this foure yeares he passed the time in great heauinesse, which euerie day increased more his sorrow and griefe. Of all which so­row, a great Magitian whose name was Demofronte, by his learning came to the knowledge off, and strayght waye by his science he made a chariot to be brought, that was gouer­ned by two flying Dragons, and put himselfe therein, who in a very short space, was carryed whereas this sorrowfull King dwelt, and he chaunced to come at such time as he was alone in his chamber with his accustomed sorrowe, and la­menting the losse of his Daughter: and without béeing séene of any person, he entred whereas this afflicted King was, and sayd.’

‘King, leaue off this sorrowe and great lamentation, and [Page 274] prepare thy selfe to séeke some other remedye: and if thou wilt doo that which I wil tell thée, I wil not delay but bring thée into the place whereas thy daughter is, with this condi­tion, that thou shalt not giue her nor hers any punishment, for that she hath not offended in any other thing, but in lack of acknowledging her dutie.’

The King being greatly troubled when he sawe him, a­rose from the chaire wherin he was set, and sayd.‘If I might see my Daughter, I could not but vse the clemencie of a fa­ther. This word onely doth suffice me sayd Demofionte, & without speaking any more words, vsing of his learning & Arte, he put the King into his Chariot gouerned by those [...]li­ing Dragons, and in a small time he was caried, and put in to the place whereas his daughter was, at such time as the Duke was about his accustomed hunting. This Magitian called at the gate, and gaue the watch word that the Duke was accustomed to giue, and when Damelis heard it, she her selfe went vnto the gate and did open it: and when she went to imbrace him, thinking it to be her louer, she sawe that it was her father, & with a sodayne alteration she gaue a great shrike and retourned and put her selfe within the house. The King her father somewhat angry did folow her saying, It doth little auaile thée Damelis to run away, for that thou shalt dye in my power, paying me with thy death, the greate dishonour which my royall crowne hath receiued. So he fo­followed her till he came vnto the chamber whereas her da­mosells were, amongst whome this fearefull Lady did hide her selfe, who séeing her to enter in that sort, they arose to sée what was the occasion of so great chaunge and trouble. Floria, straight way did know the King, who had a wrath­full countenaunce, & she fearing the harme which shuld hap­pen vnto her Lady put her selfe ouer her & gaue terrible and loud shrikes. The King as one kindeled in great wrath forgetting that which hée had promised vnto the Magitian, laide hande on his sword, saying: It doth not profite thee Damelis to flie from the death, for thy desert is such, y^t thou [Page] [...] [Page 274] [...] [Page] canst not escape it, for héere my owne arme shall be the killer of mine owne flesh. Then Damelis answered and sayd: Ah my Lord and father, will you be now as cruell vnto me, as you were wont to be pittifull, appease your wrath, and with­drawe your vnmercifull sword, and harken vnto this which I will saie, in discharging my selfe in that you charge mée with all: You shall vnderstand my Lord and father, that I was ouercome and constrained by loue for to loue, forgetting thy fatherly loue, and my duetie, yet for all that hauing pow­er to accomplish the same, it was not vnto your dishonour, for that therwith I doe liue honourablie with my husband. Then the king sayd, oh false traitor and without faith, holde thy peace, what reason hast thou to make this excuse, hauing committed so great an errour. And in saying this he lifte vp his sword for to strike her, the foure damsells y^t were there, with terrible shrikes they threw themselues vpon that vn­happie Damelis, offring their bodies vnto y^e furie of that cut­ [...]ing sword, for to set at libertie their Ladie & mistresse. The king who sawe them in this sort make her defence, with his left hand he pulled them off from her, some by the haire of y^e head, and some by the shoulders, for to make waie that hee might execute his determined purpose, and none to make a­nie resistaunce against him. Floria when she sawe the King determined to kil his daughter, like vnto a Lionesse she hung about his necke and sayd: Oh mad dogge, what determina­tion is this that thou doest bring for to do euill vnto y^e most chast and loyall Ladie in all the world, is it a new thing for loue to vse such like déedes: vnto thy selfe may be attributed the occasion of all this euill, and thou art in the fault thereof, for that thou wert so malitious and so full of mischiefe, that she durst not giue thee to vnderstand of her sodaine loue. The words and teares of Floria did little profit with the king, but rather like a wilde Boare in the wildernesse, béeing compas­sed with a companie of dogges doth shake himselfe: euen so the king did shake his members, and threw Floria from him, and with double wrath he did procure to execute his furie, out the damsells with terrible shrikes, sometimes one and [Page] sometimes another did disturbe him, till such time as with his cruell hande betwéene the Damosells, he thrust in the poynt of his sharpe sword, and with the force of his wretch­ed arme he thrust it, till it passed through her breast, & came forth at her backe. (The wise Democrites when that he re­ceiued the greatest contentment in his heart, would weepe to thinke vpon the great vnquietnesse and discontentment that should followe: euen so this vnhappie Damelis, when shée was most at quiet and delight with her prosperous life, then fortune did turne it vnto her sodaine death.) At this time the Magitian came into the chamber, and when he saw the king contrary vnto that which he promised him, had done y^e wil­full act, he began to blaspheme against himselfe, for that hée had bene the occasion of all that euill, and with an yrefull voyce he sayd. O cruell murderer that in this sort hast decei­ued me, I will giue thée thy paiment according vnto thy de­serts, in placing thy cruell body, whereas thou shalt conti­nually lament this thy daughters death, leauing a lyue the fame of her with thy lamētation. And in saying these words he drew a booke out of his bosome, and reading on it, hee made a great cloud to appeare in the skyes very black, which was brought by terrible and hastie windes, the which came with a very great tempest and storme: and when the skies waxed cléere, then was there séene héere this fortresse, where in this cruell King of Arabia is inchanted, and this sorrow­full Velegrato and his Damsells: and he that is desirous to sée how and in what sort, let him blowe this horne, and straight waye the gates shall be open, but heere I doo aduer­tise him, that the going out will be doubtfull.’

And héerewith be made an ende of this lamentable Hi­storie: the rest you shall vnderstand in the chapter that fol­loweth.

¶How that Claridiano after he had read the historie in the parchment, blew the horne, wherewith the gates wer o­pened: and how resistaunce was made at the entrie, & of all that passed about the same. Cap. 21.

[Page] THe Gréeke with great strength did blow the inchaunted horne, in such sort, that all along the riuer the sound was harde. At the verye same instaunt they began to open the gate with so great noyse as when they opened y^e hundred gates of the Temple of Appollo, at the sight of the couragious Troyan. So when this val [...] ­ant Claridiano saw the gate open, he looked in thereat to sée if he could sée any thing, and he saw that it was very darke, and for to enter in thereat, he saw that it was requisite to leaue his horse, and with great lightnesse he left the saddle, and deliuered him vnto Fidelio for to kéepe him, and with­out any care whatsoeuer shuld happen, he shrowded himselfe with his shield, and his sword in his hand, he thrust himselfe into that darkenesse, and when he was tenne paces within, without séeing of any, he receiued a blow, the thing y^t stroke him howling like vnto a Wolfe which is all night alone in the wildernes, and with the blow which he receiued, it was so furious, that it made him almost recoyle so farre backe, as he had entered, which caused in y^e Prince a great deale more courage, and as a man beside himselfe, he began to lay about him, striking on the one side, and on the other, not knowing where he did strike, and in this sort he went forwards his way through that great darkenesse, till such time as he sawe light, and going farther in, he came into a great court, in the which he could sée but one little doore, towards the which hée went, but he could not come nigh it, for that he was distur­bed by a furious beast which arose out of the court, & went towards the doore, whether y^e Prince went with great swift­nesse. This couragious Gréeke did not let to féele some alte­ration, to sée a beast so deformed. It was of body bigger thē an Elephant, and was all couered with hard partie coulou­red shells and scales: the taile was very long, and somwhat bigge, and it had foure feete, and each of them had two long clawes with verye sharpe nayles: the necke was a yearde long, and it had the face of a woman, and out of her heade, [Page] procéeded two mightie great and huge hornes verye sharpe. Her spéech was very perfect and cleere, and made aunswere in any language that was spoken vnto her. She would make battaile with none, but it should procéede of questions and aunsweres, and as Galtenor doth affirme and say, that the inchaunted Merlin was shut vp in that beast. This furious beast when she saw that the Prince went towards that lit­tle dore she put her selfe before him, and disturbed his going: this couragious Knight shrowded vnder his shield, did abide her comming. Then the beast sayd. Stay thy selfe and stand still Claridiano, and doo not trouble thy selfe so much, for a thing, that for all the dominions and Empires of thy father thou woldest not haue begun, neither haue giuen the enter­prise. Let mée first knowe what did mooue thée to enter into this infernall house, whether thou wert mooued by thy great courage and strength, or pretence to set at libertie those that are heere detained, or for to knowe somewhat of thy linage. The Gréeke meruailed verie much when he hearde himselfe named, and of the greate reasons which the beast spake vn­to him. To whome he sayde: All that thou hast sayde and spoken of I woulde be verie gladde to atchieue and goe for­wardes with, for that thereof I shoulde gette vnto my selfe great honour, notwithstanding if thou doest know anie thing of my linage, I doe desire thée to tell me. This furyous beast sayd: Desires and prayings can doo verie little with me, neither mooue me, except it come of mine owne good wil for to tell thée: but for that I doo knowe after that I haue told thée, it shall profite thée very little by the knowledge there­of, for that if thou doost moue battaile with me, thou shalt re­maine broken all to péeces, therefore for this cause I will tell thée.

Giue me heerein my desire sayde this couragious knight, and for the rest, let each one as it behooueth him procure to defend himselfe. Then the beast with a smiling laughter, and as one that did make a iest of all that which was spo­ken, sayde: Although it will profite thee verye lyttle [Page] in giuing to vnderstand therof, yet will I tell thée thy gene­ration.

Thou art sonne and nephew to the two mightiest Em­perours in all the world, and the most adorned with all ver­tues. Thy mother is the most worthiest Matrone that euer hath bene, and none like, but she which was kept for thee, if thou hadst not entred into this Fortresse. Thus in fewe words, I haue told thee of thy descent, and from whence thou dost proceede if thou wilt vnderstand it: and more I doo say vnto thee, that thou art not worthie to accompt thy selfe of such a linage, for that they be Christians, and thou art a Pagan, therefore aske me no more, for I haue tolde thée i­nough. And now séeing I haue accomplished thy will and desire, haue a respect what thou wilt doo with thine own per­son, for if thou wilt retourne without making any battaile with me, thou must of two things choose to doo one of them, which is to returne backe againe that waye which thou ca­mest, or els to declare vnto me the resolution of a question, which I will demaund of thée. The couragious Gréek said, For the one, which is to returne backe againe y^e way which I came, thou shalt vnderstand that I will not graunt vnto, and touching the second, say on whatsoeuer it be thy plesure that I shall declare, and I will make thée aunswere thereof if I can and when I cannot with my tongue, héere is my sword that doth know how to make relation of questions, be they neuer so obscure and hard.

Thy sword Claridiano, sayd the beast, will do as all other haue done héertofore, that haue taken vpon them y^e same en­terprise, their masters remaining dead, in recompence of their bolde hardinesse. Leaue off these reasons sayd Claridiano, and demaund what thy plesure is, or els suffer me to go for­wards on my iourney, and if of necessitie for to make an end héereof, I must haue battaile with thée, come on let vs be­gin without any more tarrying. Hast thou so much hast said the beast, I doo promise thée that quickly thou shalt sée thy selfe in that perplexitie, that thou shalt repent thy speede. Tell me Claridiano, what beast is that when it is first borne [Page 277] that goeth on foure féete, and afterward on two, and in y^e end on three. If thou declare vnto me my question, I am content to let thee passe and to followe thy iourney. This question did put this valiant warrior in great thought in himselfe, his eyes [...]ixed on the ground, searching all his memorie and vn­derstanding, but yet he could not happē to know what thing it should be that was demaunded, and lifting vp his eies hee sayd: I doe not know with my small vnderstanding what to aunswere thée, therefore my sword shall accomplish that which in my wit doth lacke. And in saying these words hee imbraced his shéeld, and firming his sword in his hande, hee began his terrible and timerous battaile. The furious beast hissing like vnto a Snake, did withdrawe himselfe somwhat backwards, and with great violence did stretch out her long necke, and bearing her head somewhat lowe, she pretended with her hornes to make her encounter, the Prince stood still till that the beast drew somewhat nigher him, and wold not at that time abide the furiousnesse of the blowe, but rather cléering himselfe from it by stepping on the one side, with a light leape towards the left hand, and passing this furious beast by missing her blowe, he stroke an ouerthwart blow at her with so great furie and force, which lighted vpon the mid­dest of her taile (that although she carried it verie low for her most aduauntage, for that therewith she did most offend and defend) yet for all that the Princes fortune was such, that the blow chanced betwéene two scales, & with a trice it was cut a sunder in the middest: Oh how furious and outragy­ous was this deformed beast when she felt her selfe so sore wounded, and turning her selfe as the wind against y^e Prince before he could make his defence, that needs he must receiue vpon his strong armour a blowe with those long and sharpe hornes, the blowe was giuen him with so great force, that it ouerthrew him to the ground, and seeing him in this sorte, with a diuellish rage and ire she ranne towards him procu­ring to claspe him betwixt her sharpe clawes, and by rea­son of her great furie and rage, she had not so much time, but passed by and could not fasten anie hold on him. The Greeke [Page] was meruailously troubled at that mightie blowe which hée receiued, the beast with double furie returned vnto y^e knight to strike him as shee did before, the Gréeke did abide his com­ming, with his swoord verie firme in his hande, and at such time as the beast would strike her blowe, bearing her head verie lowe. The Prince at that present was not idle, but dis­charged his mightie blow with great strength, and stroke the beast betwixt both the horns, but by reasō of the great hard­nesse his sworde could not enter, yet he made her to decline her head to the ground spite of her teeth. This furious beast seeing that she had missed her blowe, iourned that which re­mained of her taile and stroke him in the middest of his bo­die a terrible blow, in such sorte that if she had had the rest, she had parted him a sunder with the furiousnesse thereof, but for all that it made him fall to the grounde, he was not so soone fallen downe, when that the monster stroke him with her sharpe hornes verie strongly, yet for all that there was no signe made on his armour by reason of the greate hard­nesse, but all the harme was by the strength of the blow, his bodie was somewhat brused. Oh holie God, & with what ire was this Greek brought in subiection, at that time if a migh­tie and hard mountaine had béene before him, he would haue torne it in péeces. Now was there no resistaunce to be made against his mightie cutting swoord, he threw his shéeld from him to the grounde, and tooke his swoorde fast in both his handes, and abode the comming of this beast, who retourned to strike him agayne, verie much meruailing to sée how lyt­tle hir blowes did profit her. The knight stoode still verye firmely in his place, and when the beast put downe her head, hee discharged his blowe on her, and chaunced vpon the one side of her head, that her harde skull and strong skinne was insufficient to withstand the sharpnesse of his swoorde, but that it cut the flesh and carried awaie one of her hornes, wherewith this beast remained verie sore hurt and woun­ded, who féeling her self in that perplexitie, she withdrew her self backe and sayd.

O Claridiano and Pagan dogge, doe not trust too much [Page 278] much in thy great strength, neither in that thou hast done me so much harme, for I will doe so much that thou shalt not returne vnto Grecia, thy naturall Countrie, and lesse shalt thou inioye the Pastora, for that as yet thou hast not proo­ued of my sharpe clawes and nailes, nor of their furie. The Prince answered and sayd: Diuell make thy defence by all the meanes thou canst, and all shall bee lyttle inough. And in saying these wordes he firmed his sworde in his hand, then this furious monster began to make a new noise in hissing, and approched towardes the Prince, making as though shée woulde strike him with her horne that remayned, and when she came nigh him, vppon a sodaine shée tourned her tayle with so great lightnesse, that the Prince could not make his defence, and stroke him vpon the helme in such sort that shée ouerthrew him to the ground almost without anie remem­braunce, the Prince was not so soone fallen but this monster leapt vnto him with hir hard and sharpe nailes, and griped his hard harnes, thinking with them to teare him all to pée­ces, but she did him no more harme but onely wearied him, in tumbling him vp and downe, yet this inuincible Knight was not without great care to prouide for himselfe and did not loose one iot of his strength and courage, but rather with a double stomack and furious courage procured to cléere him­selfe out of the beasts nailes, and with the great strength and pollicie that he vsed, in spite of the monster he cléered himself, and béeing at libertie, with great lightnesse he arose on his féete, he was not so soone vp when the beast stroke him with his one horne which remained, in such sort that he was con­strained to fall downe againe to the grounde, the beast pro­cured to catch him againe in her clawes, but she coulde not, for that the Prince with great lightnesse rose vp againe, and hauing his sword in his hand he tarried her comming, the beast made a shew as though he would strike at the Prince with his horne, but when she sawe him with his sworde a­loft, she raised her selfe vp on her hinder feete, and fell vppon the Prince, imbracing him with her nailes about his backe scratching and pinching his armour, but it didde lyttle [Page] profit him by reason of the great hardnesse. The Prince sée­ing himselfe so bewrapt with this monster, with greate strength and pollicie brought his swoorde downe vnder the beast, and thrust the point into her bellye vp to the harde hil [...]es. The furious monster when shée felt her selfe so sore wounded, queased the Prince so harde betwéene hir clawes, that hée thought verily shee would haue broken all his bones in his bodie, and if it should haue indured long in this order, it had not beene possible to haue escaped the death, but that mortall wounde did so trouble the beast, & was so gréeuous vnto her, that she was constrained to let him loose, and to withdrawe her selfe backe, for to put some remedie therein, and sayde vnto the Prince: Oh thou Infidell without all faith, thou hast slaine mee, but tarrie yet there doeth remaine in me courage for to make thee that thou shalt not goe ad­uauncing of thy selfe, and bearing hir head verie lowe she pressed vnto the Prince, thinking to take him with hir horne and to ouerthrowe him, with pretence to get him againe be­twixt hir clawes and nailes, and although she was dying yet not to leaue him till she had torne him all too péeces. This couragious knight did abide her comming, and perceyuing her deceit, when hee thought that shee would strike him hee stepped on the one side, and in the passing the Prince stroke her so mightie a blowe vppon the necke, that it cut the lame a sunder, so that that horrible and wonderfull monster fell downe dead to the grounde. The Knight with the long tra­uaile and wrastling remained verie wearye, in such sorte, that hee was constrained to sit downe to ease himselfe vp­pon a banke that was there made against a wall, giuing greate thankes vnto his Gods for the victorie which they had giuen him. A good while after when that he had some­wha [...] eased himselfe of his former trauaile, his couragious heart woulde not suffer him to remaine long there, but straight wayes he arose vp and went towardes the lyttle doore which was in the wall, and when he came to it hée sawe that it was made all of verie [...] [...]nd in the key hole thereof was a keie, with the [...] vpon it. [Page 279] The knight entered in thereat, and sawe that it was verye darke, and it séemed vnto him that it should be a verie great hall, and therein he heard very fearefull howlings, yet for all this the valiant Gréeke did not loose anie of his accustomed courage, but entered in farther, and tooke off his gantlet from his left hand, whereon he wore a meruailous great and fin [...] Diamond, the which he had in a ring, that gaue so much light that he might plainely sée all that was in the hall, the which was verie great and wide, and vpon the walls were painted the figures of many fiends and diuells, and on the one side of the hall he sawe a tombe all couered with blacke, and vppon it there laie a man with a pale colour, who at certaine times gaue a meruailous and gréeuous sigh, caused by the burning flames that procéeded from vnder the tombe, beeing such, that it seemed his bodie should be conuerted therewith into bur­ning coales, the flame was so stinking that it made y^e Prince somewhat to retire himselfe from the place where he sawe that horrible spectacle. He which laie vpon the tombe, casting his eyes a side, sawe the Prince, and knowing him to bée an humane creature, with an afflicted voice he sayde: Who art thou sir knight, that art come vnto so sorrowfull a dwel­ling, for that thou canst sée nothing in it but great torments. Then the knight sayde, but tell me who art thou that with so m [...]ch griefe doest demaund of me that which I stande in doubt to tel thée. I am a king of Arabia (answered he) which without all consideration, with my cruell hande did pearce through the white breast of my welbeloued daughter, wo be to me, for that she at once did paie her offence by death, but I a miserable wretch w^t many torments doe liue dying. When this worthie knight was about to answere him, he saw come forth from vnder the tombe a damsell, who had a verie yeo­low and wanne colour, and by her face it séemed y^t she should be verie sore afflicted, and with a sorrowfull voice she sayd. O Claridiano vnfortunate, what dost thou séeke in this infernal lodging, wheras cannot be giuen thée anie other pleasure but mortall torments, for y^t thou wert so bold as to kil my kéeper of y^e doore, & there is but one thing that can cléere thée frō it, & [Page] this cannot be tolde thée by anie other but by me, and yet I will not tell thée except thou doest graunt me one thing that I will aske of thée. The Prince who was greatly amazed of all that he had séene, and verie much beholding the counte­naunce of the damsell that was verie leane and féeble, aun­swered and said: The Gods who are gouernours of my liber­tie will doe their pleasures, but in that touching the graunt of thy request, I neuer to Ladie nor Gentlewoman denyed a­nie thing that they would demaund of me, being a thing that I could put remedie in, but with all my power and strength I was readie to fulfill the same, therefore demaund what thy pleasure is, for that I am readie in all things that touch­eth thy remedie. Then she sayde, Claridiano looke well and haue a respect vnto y^t which thou dost promise, and sée y^t thou dost performe thy promise, for thou shalt vnderstād that thou fulfilling the same doest giue libertie vnto thy selfe and vnto me. Gentlewoman, aske what thy pleasure is said y^• knight: that which I demaund sayd the damsell is, y^t thou giuest mée the ring which thou hast vpon thy finger, for thou shalt vn­derstand that in it is my remedie. In demaunding of that said the Prince, thou doest rather procure my harme, & ther­fore it doth not behoue me to giue it thée. To whom she said: O euill and false knight that doest not performe that which thou hast promised, sée that thou doest accomplish the same, or else to the contrarie thou shalt liue dying. Oh false Magiti­an & cursed witch sayde Claridiano, doest thou thinke by thy deceitfull threatnings to deceiue me? It is not thy inchant­ments neither thy fained words y^t shall get the ring frō my finger. Thē she said, thou shalt sée how little thy great strēgth shal profit & auaile thée against me, if thou wilt tarry a while, and therewith vpon a sodaine she laide holde vpon his hande with so great strength, that it lacked but little of pulling the ring from his finger, but this politike Gréeke helped his left hand with his right, with so great strength, that he put away that Magitian y^t she could not pull it off. This false inchan­ter did still stand in this contention to get the ring from him, and contended in such sort that he forgot the respect that hee [Page 280] should haue vnto Ladyes and Gentlewomen, and stroke her with his right hand that was armed such a buffet vpon the chéeke, that her fantasticall bodie gaue a great fall vnto the ground, shée was not so soone fallen, when that with a time­rous noise she threw her selfe into that dolefull Sepulcher, making a terrible and wonderfull howling within, and this vnhappie king bare her companie with his gréeuous lamen­tations, of the which the Prince had great compassion, and it séemed vnto him that he heard a voice which came forth of the tombe, which did offer to talke vnto him, & that he might vnderstand his reasons he drew nigh vnto the tombe, & heard that he sayd these words: Oh knight borne in Grecia, & nur­sed and brought vp in Trapobana, if thou wilt go out of this place and make an end of my continual torments, procure to giue thrée blowes vpon this my Sepulchar, with the which thou shalt deliuer thy selfe and me likewise, and all those that are héere put in this infernal lodging. This inuincible young man sayd: There is so little truth in this house, that I stand in doubt whether I may beléeue thy words or not, notwith­standing tell me who thou art, then shall I know whether I may giue credit vnto thy wordes. Then he sayd: I am that vnhappie Merlin, borne in Gallia, and deceiued by her who would haue deceiued thée, therfore thou [...]ist beléeue me, for that I doe tell thée the truth, and if thou doest as I doe tell thée ther will come vnto both vs great profite. Tell me Mer­lin, sayd the Prince, how doest thou know that I was borne in Grecia, and brought vp in Trapobana, if thou dost know I pray thée tell me who was my father, and of what Empire or kingdome he is Lord. To whom Merlin said: Trebatio is thy grandfather, and thy father is the great Alfebo, & the ex­cellent Claridiano is thy mother, from whome Galtenor did steale thée, in companie with thy sister, the most fairest crea­ture in all the world. And in saying these words he helde his peace, and with dolorous grones he began to curse himselfe, and it was so gréeuous that the Prince withdrewe himselfe because he would not heare it, & without anie more tarrying he embraced his shéeld and laide hand vpon his good sword, [Page] and with great violence he went vnto the Sepulcher, and as he would haue stroke therat, there appeared before him a gi­ant, the which the Prince tooke to be y^e gyant that he slew in the mountaine Nabateos, who stroke the Prince vpon y^e brest with both his hands y^t he made him to recoile backe a great way, whether he would or not: notwithstanding with great discreation he kept himselfe vpright, & with wonderful light­nesse, accompanied with no lesse anger, he threw his shéeld at his back, & tooke his sword in both his hāds, & went to strike the gyant a mortall blow, at which time there appered before him a whole legiō of diuells, with flesh hooks in their hands, with the which they did torment him. The valiant Gréeke with great wrath and double force put himselfe amongest them, striking on euery side such terrible blowes, that in spite of them he came vnto the tombe, and with great lightnesse he stroke on it two blowes, but he had no time to strike the third, for that this diuellish companie did put him from it w^e their terrible assaults and striking of him. Oh in what great trauaile and perplexitie this knight found himselfe amongst this wicked and diuellish generation, for to defend himselfe, that they might not driue him from the Tombe, and tooke great courage, and stretching forth his mightie and strong arme, hée so flour [...]hed about him and kept such a sturre a­mongest them, that hée might strike the third blowe vppon the Tombe, which was with so great noise and rumbling, that he was constrained to fall to the grounde without anie remembraunce, he laie not long in this traunce, but com­ming againe to his remembraunce, he founde himselfe by the riuers side, and nigh vnto him was his horse and his Squire with him, without séeing anie fortresse or ditch, nor anie signe thereof, but the most they sawe was two greate lumpes verie darke which flewe in the ayre, giuing verye gréeuous shrikes, and beholding well what it shoulde bée, they sawe that one was the vnhappie Merlin, and with him a legion of Diuells, that went tormenting him, and the other was a Chariot, carried by two Dragons, and before it was that furious beast which hee slewe, and hée sawe [Page 281] that there was in the Chariot certaine Knights, Ladies and Gentlewomen depriued of their vnderstanding. Likewise he saw a man with a whip in his hand, who did gouern the Dragons and that furious monster, who with a loud voyce said. Nephew vnto Trebatio, doo not thou thinke that thy strength is sufficient, for to set at libertie, and to cleere out of paine this vnnaturall and cruell King, and in saying these words, he whipped forwards those terrible Dragons, and with a trice they vanished out of the Princes sight, leauing him somewhat troubled, and not without great reason.

¶How Claridiano being ouercome with the loue of the Pastora, did put himselfe in shepheards appa­raile, the better to comfort himselfe with her dely­cate presence, and of all that happened therein. Chap. 22.

THe Prince remained meruailously amazed of all that had past, and with some griefe, for that he saw that all his labour and tra­uaile was to little effect. His squire did not looke for his retourne so quickly, but layde him downe vpon the grasse and fel a sleepe. The Prince with his foote awaked him, who so soone as he had opened his eyes, he looked as one that had bene scarred. The warlike Gréeke demaunded his horse, and mounting on him, he tooke his way towards Ierosolima, and continuallye had in his imagination the names of his grandfather, father and mother, with intent to go towards Greece, with all hast possible. So hée trauailed in a great confusion whether it should be true or not, whith they tolde him, that y^e two Em­perours should be his grandfather and father. Likewise hée had griefe to sée himselfe subiect vnto Cupide. So with these and such like thoughts, he came vnto Ierosolima, whereas he was meruailously well receiued of the King and Quéene, likewise of the Princesse the Kings daughter, who did him great honour. The Princesse straight way vnderstood wher­fore [Page] he came thether, and who was the occasion thereof: and when she knew that he was in his chamber in quiet, in the company of two of her Gentlewomen she went to visite him. The Gréek receiued great contentment at her cōming, and the Princesse with amorous and swéete words procu­red to knowe of him, if that were true which she had in her thought, in such sort that Claridiano did discouer vnto her, all his whole heart and pretence, saying: that he was deter­mined in shepheards apparaile, to goe and sée that Pastora, the causer of all his griefe. The Princesse when she sawe that all was true she had conceiued, she had not so much dis­cretion as to declare vnto him the griefe of her hart, but with a dissembling sigh she sayd. Oh loue, what great falshood is in thée: and without saying any more she remained verye pensiue, with her eyes looking downwards to the ground, & dissembling her griefe, she did offer vnto him, all fauour and diligence, such as her royall estate was able to giue, which was not a little, for that she was Lady of all that riuer and landes thereabouts, the Gréeke did giue her greate thankes for her gentle offer, and with this determination, the Prin­cesse retourned vnto her chamber, whereas with many trou­blesome and grieuous thoughts, she passed away the night. So when the morning was come, she was not vnmindfull of that which she had promised, but commanded to be made shepheards apparaile very rich, and commaunded to call vn­to her the head gouernour of all the cattle of her father the King, whom she commaunded that the shepheard which shée would giue vnto him, should be well looked vnto, and serued in such sorte, as though it were her Fathers owne royall person.

The shepheardes apparaile was quicklye made, and the Princesse one night turning into the chamber of the Gréek, asked of him, if he had determined anye other thing then that which he had tolde her, to whom he sayde, that he was still in that determination. Then the Princesse sayd, that all which he had commaunded was in a readinesse, and in [Page 282] that order as his pleasure was. The Gréeke gaue her great thankes, with such amorous words as her loue did deserue, and the Gréeke did straight waye apparaile himselfe in that shepheards apparaile.

The Princesse when she saw him in that order, with a sorrowfull countenaunce she sayd: Knight, I cannot iudge what will come of this: but yet I am sure, that thou goest captiue onely to one, and thou dost leaue captiue more than a thousand, who are in no fault of all this thy gréefe. Oh happie Pastora, whose beautie hath so much force, to subiect and bring downe him, whom the Tartarian Giaunts coulde not conquere. Oh Gods, why doo not I leaue to be a Prin­cesse, for to be a Pastora by the Riuer of Euphrates, seeing that my highnesse hath not so much power to atchieue that, which the basenesse of this Pastora hath brought into sub­iection. The great desire which this newe shepheard had to see his: Pastora, was the occasion that he would not make a­ny aunswere vnto the Princesse, but rather dissembled and made as though he had heard nothing. And straight way he put in vre his departure, and taking a man with him to bée his guide, he tooke his leaue of the Princesse, & did commend Fidelio vnto her kéeping.

So he departed out of the Citie without any tarrieng, till he came vnto the principall house of the Kings cattell, whereas he was receiued of all the shepheardes that were there present, who showed him great courtesie, and the base­nesse of the apparayle wherewith he was clad, was not suf­ficient to take away the iealousie that they had in him to be of some noble bloud, as appeared by his person, stature and graue countenaunce: and although they had not bene com­maunded by the Princesse to respect him, yet they coulde not but doo all reuerence and curtesie vnto him. This new shep­heard, after that he had giuen them thankes for the enter­tainment which they gaue him, he went foorth all alone ran­ging the fields, and in his hand a shepheards crooke. Also hée carried with him a little lute, which he vsed at times for to ease and recreate himselfe.

[Page]This new shepheard neuer tooke anye rest till such time as he came vnto the cléere running riuer. Where vnder a great and mightie Myrtle trée, he laid himselfe downe, and remem­bring his welbeloued Pastora, he lifted vp his eyes towards the heauens, and giuing a great sigh, he sayd. Oh Venus, sée­ing that it is thy pleasure, that this thy new vassaile should take his first sitting place vnder a Myrtle trée, so much of thée estéemed and made of, let thy sweete voyce so occupy the eares of thy sonne Cupid, that he may vnderstand how that in his blindnesse he had litle respect vnto the highnes of my person in causing me to place my affection so baselye. Oh Gods, is it possible that any base attempt should come vnto light, but with the authoritie that belongeth vnto your high­nesse: vpon you I doo call, and vnto you I doo offer this my wounded breast, that you make sacrifice thereof, for this my boldnesse, if therein I haue offended, and therwith he leaned his backe vnto the Myrtle trée, and tooke his Lute, and be­gan to play as swéetely as euer did Orpheus, when with his lute he made the infernall furyes to sleepe. Claridiano with his lute did not onely bring the furies, but also the Queene Proserpina, and the auncient Pluto, he brought into a greate perplexitie. So likewise at times he vttered his swéete voice that they which did heare it, did iudge it to be some celestiall thing, and not terrenal, and by reason that his songs did pro­céede from his heart, it did in double wise séeme the better. This newe shephearde thought no body had hearde him: but there were other two shepheards, who were very at­tentiue and hearde, that he sung this song which héereafter followeth.

And when he had made an end of his song, he helde his peace, for that his wery voyce could not giue him any more time, but he let his lute fall out of his handes, and crossing his fingers the one with the other, he was very pensiue, till such time as he heard a shepheards voyce accompanied with a Rebecke, sweetely sounding, whom he heard sing this song as followeth.

This new shepheard was very attentiue vnto that gra­cious song of the other shepheard, and when he hearde that he helde his peace, he would haue returned and sung againe, but he was disturbed by hearing a noyse of people. This gentle shepheard when he heard it, arose vp vpon his féete, and went out from vnder the shadowe of the Tree farther into the Sunne, and sawe that it was a shephearde and a Pastora, which were comming into the place whereas hée was, and when they came vnto him, they did salute him ve­ry courteously. So they sate downe altogether, and put the new shepheard in the midst, very much meruayling at his gracious countenaunce: and with a very good grace & gen­tle disposition, the Pastora began first to speake, and sayde: Your swéete Musicke (brother shepheard) did awake me and my brother Coridon out of our sléep and we doo rather choose to lose our naturall rest, then thy conuersation, accompanied with thy delicate song. We doo not know, whether that the faire beautie of Cayserlinga a Pastora, brought vp by this delightfull riuer, hath bene the occasion thereof, or any other griefe, which doth raigne in thy heart: but if it be so gentle shepheard, that your eyes haue not behelde nor séene y^e beau­tie of our Pastora, doo you procure not to sée her, that your hart be not taken captiue with the sight of her: for you shal vnderstand, y^t there is nothing to be hoped for at her hands but death, her disdaine is such This sorrowfull brother of mine, one day did sing before her with his Rebecke, and re­mained so imprisoned with her, as euer was shepheard with [Page 284] Pastora. And if it be thy Fortune to abide long time in these partes, thou shalt knowe the greate power that her face and countenaunce hath, and the greate crueltye that she vseth. Thou shalt see no other thing alongst all this ri­uer, but shepheardes who haue forgot to gouerne and feede theyr shéepe, sitting vnder trées wounded with her greate beautie and fayrenesse, and hauing more care to make their Rebeckes fayre and trimme, then to call together their cat­tle, and to delyuer them from the rauening Wolues. And by reason that shée doth knowe that her beautie is so great, shée is so proude, that shee doth make them all equall in her estimation, although not all equall in suffering. I doo promise thée of a truth (gallant shephearde) that this Ri­uer dooth seeme to be no other thing, but the habitation of Venus and Cupide. Coridon did cut off the words of Ga­lismena, and sayd.

Ah sister Galismena, the little accompt that thou doest make of loue, doth cause thée to speake of that, which thy sorrowfull brother doth féele. What doost thou thinke Galis­mena, that of this my contentious passion, I shall reape a­nye other benefitte, but that I haue put my loue vppon the most excellentest Pastora, that euer Nature did forme. Tell me I praye thée Pastora, what shephearde haue you belonging vnto this Riuer of Euphrates, vnto whome shée dooth extend her thought more then vnto me. Hold thy peace Coridon sayd Galismena, doo not exalt Cayserlinga so much: for in her respecte thou doost not onelye put from thée all other Pastoras, but thou dost likewise disable all shepheards alongst this Riuer. Truth it is although that Cayserlinga doth deserue much: yet for that she is a woman, she doth not deserue so much, as the worst Shephearde in all this our habitation, for that this onelye is sufficient, that he is a man.

Then said Coridon with great anger: I would it were not thy selfe, but some other that should speake such words, for y^t I promise thée with y^e force of my arme, I wold make [Page] him to know, that his words were not true, but very false. Then Claridiano did interrupt their communication, and sayd. Gentle shepheards, let these your contentions cease, for that there commeth nothing of them but anger and fal­ling out: but I doo desire you that you would shew vnto me this Pastora, for that her fame doeth giue me a desire to sée her. Héere by the riuer of Euphrates sayd Coridon, in an ar­bour which is made of very faire and gréene sallowes, gal­lantlye wrought, there euerye morning she doth combe her yeolow golden hayre, thether maist thou goe very earlye in the morning, whereas thou maist recreate thy selfe of that new sight. And in the meane tune before that thou dost de­part, we doo desire thée to tell vs thy name, and what coun­triman thou art. This new shepheard aunswered and said, My name is Filipensio, and am naturally of Siria, and of the plaines of Caniphia, a kingdome of Chaldea, and the great desire of these greene fieldes and fresh feeding which is héere growing about this cleere riuer, hath brought me hether, for to feede a little Cattle, the which the Gods hath made mée Lord and gouernour of. Ah shepheard sayd Coridon, (with a dolorous sigh) doest thou come to féede thy shéepe in fresh & gréene medowes, and dost not know that in séeing that Pa­stora, thou shalt féede loue within thy delicate and tender breast.

So with this, and other such like pleasaunt communica­tion, they passed all that night till the next morning, and when it was time for to departe, they tooke their waye to the accustomed abiding of the beautifull Pastora, and they met in the waye manye shepheardes, who complained very much against the fury of loue. So vnder a greate Sallowe Trée, they sawe two shepheards, the one did complaine of loue very grieuously, and laye all alongst vppon the ground, and the other was playing vppon a Rebecke, and sung ve­rye swéetelye, wherewith Filipensio did staye▪ and heard that he sung as followeth.

And giuing a dolorous sigh, he ended his song. The shep­heard Filipensio and his company went forwards on their waye, and passed the time in amorous and swéete communi­cations, not staying in any place, till they came wheras this Pastora had her abiding, and there they put themselues a­mongst a companie of thicke trées, vnder one of the which, they saw where was a shepheard of a meruailous dispositi­on, so that Filipensio did very much behold him, and thought in his imagination by the demeanour of that shepheard, that he should not séeme to be of the lignage of shepheards, and turning vnto Coridon, he asked him what he was. They all safe themselues downe vnder a high & mightie sallow trée, nigh vnto the place whereas the other shepheard was at his rest, and Coridon aunswering vnto that which was asked him, sayd. This is a shepheard of Babylonia, who for to féede his cattell, in the companie of other well proportioned shep­heards came [...]ether, and with the sight of that Pastora he felt himselfe full of passions and griefes, by the sight of her beu­tie. The companion of this, who is called Tarsides, was hée which did most followe and importunate the Pastora: but she, who is the honestest in all the worlde, not onelye with sharpe and bitter words did put him from it, but also with [Page] publike disdaine and hatred: for the which a [...] one hated & not set by, he did determine to leaue this valley, reporting that his departure would shorten his dayes. Alphesiueo, for so is this shepheard called, as one that was more stronglyer wounded with loue, determined to remaine and to perseuer in his sute. At this time, Alphesiueo did awake, and tooke an instrument in his hand which he had, and began to play on it very swéetely, singing these verses following.

This song he sung so dolefully, that it gaue plainely to vnderstand his grieuous paine: and by his words that he was not of the lignage of shepheards. At this time the sonne of Tona did begin to appeare out of his golden Horizon, & to shew himselfe vpon the face of the earth, glistering with his beames vppon the cléere waters of Euphrates, likewise Fauonius and Zephyrus did very swéetely and softlye blowe vpon the gr [...]en leaues, and made a delicate harmonie, at such time as the most fairest Cayserlinga, accompanied with high thoughts, and with her shéepe that she had in charge, for her recreation came foorth, and a great companye of shepheardes following her, who were as full of sorrowes and thoughtes for her loue, as she cleane voyd and without regard of them, and when she had left her shéepe in a gréen place féeding, she went and sate downe in a place not very farre from thence, where Filipensio and his company were, and when she was set downe, she pulled off a knit caule from her head, where in was wrapped her haire, letting it fall and dispearse it self all abroad her backe, and taking out from her white & chri­stalline breast a combe, she began to kembe her haire, her [Page 286] hands and fingers séeming to be of white yuorie. All this did this vnknowen Filipensio beholde, and was in that per­plexitie, that he did occupie his vnderstanding on no other thing, but in beholding of her. The discréete Pastora Galis­mena did well perceiue it, for that he was in a dumpe & said neuer a word. Then she with her hands stroke him vppon the breast to call him to remembraunce, and sayd: Gentle shepheard, hearken and giue attentiue eare vnto the swéete verses, which the amorous shepheards will sing, and let not this new sight so trouble thée. And therewith Coridon tooke his Rebecke, and began to play very swéetely, and song these verses as followeth.

And héerewith he made an ende of his sorrowfull and grieuous song: and then another Shepheard began to sing with a meruaylous and swéet voyce, those verses following.

With great griefe this sorrowfull Menalcas made an end of his song, and after him there were other shepheards that sung many songs full of swéete & amorous vearses, y^t which for y^t I will not séeme tedious, I do let passe: but y^e last shep­heard of all, called Alphesiueo, sung these verses following.

The shepheardes did well vnderstand [...], for that al­wayes Alphesiueo was the last of all the companye that did sing, that the Musicke was whollye ended.

[Page 287]But yet the slower of all shepheardes had not vsed his a­morous exercise, but so soone as Alphesineo had made an end of his song, Filipensio tooke his Lute and plaide so swéeltly on it, that all the shepheardes of the riuer were amazed, not knowing who it should be that newly was come to wrastle with Cupide, and when they heard him plaie, they all resor­ted vnto that place where he was, and put themselues round about him for to heare the better, Caiserlinga had straight waie in her eares that new and vnaccustomed musicke, who turning her selfe vnto Galismena said: Me thinks that to be a new shepheard that doth begin to plaie. It is truth sayd the Pastora, for that yester night somewhat a parte whereas hée was we heard him plaie, and the better for to reioyce our selues of his swéete melodie, my brother and I went vnto y^e place wher he was taking his rest, but if at his musicke you haue admiration, you will much more meruaile at his gentle disposition and graue countenaunce, I neither know nor can declare it vnto you faire Pastora, but the Gods haue vsed in his bodie and proportion all their knowledge and power. Whereat the faire Pastora arose vp, and taking Galismena by the hand, she sayd: Come sister and let vs goe and recre­ate our selues at his musicke and faire countenaunce, and so they both together went whereas this new Shepheard was, the other shepheards when they sawe her come, they all a­rose and put themselues a parte, and gaue her place, with so great reuerence as vnto a diuine creature. This new shep­heard at that time had néede of all his force to vpholde him, and not to leaue his begun musicke, the which when he saw the Pastora was much increased in delicate swéetnesse, and they being in this conuersation, there chaunced so high mat­ters as well in Tinacria as in Grecia, that I am constrained to leaue the pleasures of Venus, and tourne vnto the furious force of Mars.

¶How that Polifebo because his mother the Queene of Tinacria would not giue him the order of knight­hoode [Page] went secretly from the court, and of all that happened in his iourney. Chap. 23.

THE valiaunt Eleno wée lefte in Tinacria with greate ioye to haue set at libertie so excellent a Quéene, and with no lesse sor­rowe for the sodaine departure of his cosin, who did no more but put Brenio in his Se­pulcher, in such sorte as in the third part of this historie shall bée tolde you. So straight waie hée ente­red into a Barke, the which in short time was put into the maine and wide sea, whereas they were sodainly taken with a storme, and by the force thereof they were driuen vppon the coast of Fraunce, where he was constrained to take land, and taking a narow and straight path which he sawe, he fol­lowed the same, which brought him into the wildernesse of Ardenia, nigh vnto the fountaine Disamore, who séeing the cléerenesse of the water, alighted from his inchaunted horse, and washed his hands and refreshed his face with that wa­ter, and dronke thereof till such time as he had satisfied his desire, and when he had dronke and well refreshed himselfe, he sate downe vpon an olde roote of a trée that had bene cut downe, and felt within his breast an alteration of new de­sires, as shall be tolde you héereafter, and for that I am con­strained to returne vnto Tinacria, I do leaue him in this or­der. Poliphebo seeing himselfe a man of sixtéene yéeres of age with so stout an heart and manly a courage, requested his mother that shée woulde commaund the order of knighthood to be giuen him, the which the Quéene did refuse verye much to doe, as one which thought that if he were once made knight, that he woulde absent himselfe, séeking where­as he might exercise his strength for to get him fame. This young Prince did continually importunate the Quéene, and euerie daye his desire did increase more and more, the oc­casion was, for that hée did sée so greate knighthoode at that time vsed in Tinacria, and all for the loue and sight of the [Page 288] fayre Princesse his sister, so that the knights did not occu­pie themselues in anie other exercise but in iustes and tour­neyes. The Quéene did continually perswade her sonne with gentle and louing wordes to tarrie and not to take the order vppon him till such time as hée came to more yeares, laying before him the greate inconueniences which myght happen for lacke of his full growth and strength, but this de­laying of the Quéene did cause the Prince to be very sadde and pensiue, and also caused that all the feastes and sportes that the knights did dayly vse, waxed altogether colde, in sée­ing the Prince to be in that heauie case, and vpon a daie as hée was imagining with himselfe, séeing the small comfort and good will which hée receiued in his mother for the ful­filling of his desire, he determined in greate secret as soone as was possible to depart the court, the which hée straight waies put in vre, and tooke out of the armourie verie secretly an excéeding good armour, the which was all russet, and ename­led with blacke, and imbroudered round about with grauen worke all guilt: also hée tooke out a shéelde of the same ma­king, sauing that it was not graued as his armour was, and commaunded a young Gentleman that was sonne vnto Rubio, of a good disposition and hardie, that he shoulde kéepe themselues, & gaue him to vnderstand of all his determined pretence, and although it did grieue this young man verye much, yet for all that, séeing the great friendshippe which he vsed with him in vttering his secrete vnto him before anie other, without replying to the contrarie, he verie diligently tooke the armour and hidde it, till hée found conuenient time to put it into a ship [...] verie secretly. So likewise he put into the sayde Ship two of the best horses which the Prince had, and forthwith hée gaue his Lorde vnderstanding howe that all thinges were then in a readinesse and in good order. The Prince dissembling with the accustomed heauinesse hée vsed, withdrew himselfe into his chamber till such time as the night came, which when it was come, he made him­selfe readie with his apparaile, and when that all the people [Page] of the Court were at their rest and a sléep, he alone with his page, who was named Macedonio, went out of the pallaice, and went vnto the sea side. His page did call the marriners of the ship, who straight way brought vnto them their boat, in the which they entered, and went straight a boord the ship, and being therin for that the winde was very faire, he com­maunded to waye their ankers, and to spread their sayles, and to take their way towards Grecia, and as he commaun­ded all was done, and in a short time they found themselues ingulfed into the sea, farre from the lande. This excellent Prince went very much to his contentment: but when the Quéene vnderstood of his departure, the lamentation which she made was very much, and commaunded to go vnto the sea side, to know if there were any shippe that departed that night, and it was tolde them that there was a ship of Gre­cia, which that night haled vp their ankers, & hoised saile, and went to sea: so straight waye they vnderstood that the Prince was gone in her. I cannot héere declare the greate griefe and sorrow which the Quéene felt in her sorrowfull heart, for the absence of the Prince, which she alwayes sus­pected & feared. But whē y^e absence of Poliphebo was know­wen in Tinacria, all feasts & sports ceased, for that you shall vnderstand, of all his vassailes he was very well beloued. The Quéene did procure to dissemble all her griefe, for the great sorrow which her vassailes had, shewing her self more ioyful in her face, more then anie contentment she had in her heart, giuing them to vnderstand, that he had done it, for that which he did owe vnto his high linage, and the great ally­gation he had to procure his honour and fame: and that hée had done that, which she and all them should haue desired, & that they should not be sorrowfull for that, which héereafter would be the occasion of great ioye and plesure. With these and such lyke resons, she did quiet all her vassailes and king­dome, and caused them to returne vnto their accustomed pa­stime and sports. So Poliphebo sayled forwardes on his iourney, through the déepe sea, with great delight to sée howe he had fulfilled his desire. And he sayled thrée dayes with a [Page 289] very faire and prosperous winde, and the fourth daye in the euening it was very calme, and no winde at all, so that the Marriners went to take their rest, some on the poope, & some in the foreships, for to ease their wearied bodyes. The prince who sate vpō y^e poope of y^e ship, asked for his lute of his page, the which straight way was giuen him, and when he had it in his hands, he played and sung so swéetly, that it séemed to be a heauenly melodie. And being in this swéete musicke, hée heard a very lamentable crye as it were of a woman, and leauing his musicke, he gaue attentiue eare to hearken what she sayd, and he heard the voyce saye: It will little profitte thée thou cruell tyrant, this thy bolde hardinesse, for thou do­est well know, that I am of a lignage, that will reuenge it of thée to thy cost. Then he heard another voyce which said: Now I haue thée in my power, there is no humane power able to deliuer thée from me▪ Poliphebo could heare no more by reason that the barke wherein they were, passed by in so great hast. This heroycall Prince by the words he hearde, vnderstood that she was carryed by force awaye, and putting the lute away, he began to fall into a great thought, and was very heauie and sorrowfull, for that he had not receiued the order of Knighthoode, for to giue the enterprise of this ad­uenture: but yet his stout stomacke could not suffer, that such compulsion and vyolence should passe without being pu­nished. And returning vnto his Page Masedonio, which was a sléepe, he strake him with his foote and awaked him, saying: What, didst not thou heare the great lamentation, and sorrowfull complaint, which a Ladye made (as it see­med) in a small bark that is passed by, and is gone forwards along the sea, (to the which Masedonio aunswered nothing, for that he was still a sléepe,) what counsayle dost thou giue me, that I may doe in so great outrage which is done be­fore mine eyes, that I may receiue no shame thereof. Thou art bound vnto nothing, sayd Masedonio, for that thou hast not receiued the order of knighthoode, and thou doest well vnderstande that without it thou cann [...]st not put forth thy hand to make defence against anie knight.

[Page]Then Poliphebo sayde, He is not a Knight which doth set his force against a woman, and doth breake the law & oath made vnto Knighthoode. Therefore bring me foorth my ar­mour, and call the marriners, that they maye launch their boat, into the sea: for by the omnipotent Iupiter I do sweare, that I will not be called the sonne of my father, if I do suf­fer such force to be done before me, and not procure with all my strength to amend and correct the same. Masedonio would haue replyed vnto him, but the furious countenaunce of the Prince would not giue him leaue, no not once to looke vpon him. So he brought foorth his armour, and armed him selfe therewith. In the meane time the marriners had lan­ched the boate into the sea, wherein he leaped with a hastie fury, and carried with him foure marriners for to rowe the bark [...], and he commaunded for to take the way towards the other that passed by. All that remained in the ship greatlye meruailed at his hardinesse. This Prince of Tinacria cau­sed the marriners to make great hast with their oares, for that they would not loose the way which they had. So they trauailed all that night, till such time as the cleare Phoebus with his glittering beames gaue vnto them such lyght, that they might discouer and sée the other barke, although some­what a farre off. The Tinacrian had great contentment ther­at, hoping that very quickly they should ouertake them, but it did little profit them: for if that he did make hast to ouer take them, they were not idle, but did make as much hast to goe from them. So in this contention they trauailed til two partes of the daye was spent, at which time they sawe come after them a galley which was gouerned with eigh­téene oares on a side, and it made so great waye, that with a trice they were with them, and he saw that ther was in hir a Knight all armed with blacke armour, and was of a gen­tle disposition and well proportioned body, who made greate hast vnto the mariners to rowe forwards. And as they pas­sed by, the Tinacrian said vnto thē with a loud voyce: Knight I doo request thée, that you wilt take me into your Galley, that being in her, I may the better accomplish my desire. [Page 290] The Knight of the gally passed by, without making any an­swere, but rather shewed y^t he made little accompt of him, but made hast vnto them that did rowe. The Tinacrian sée­ing the little accompt he made of him, with the great anger and furie he receiued, he tooke an oare in one [...]and, and ano­ther in the other, and with so great furie & strength he stroke the water, that he made the slothfull barke to flye, and labo­red so much with his oares, that with a trice they wer equal with the galley, and leauing the oares, with a light leape hée put himselfe into the galley, and had his healme on, and his shéeld at his shoulder, and béeing within he sayd. Now thou shalt doo by force that, which before I vsing great courtesie, thou wouldest not doo. Those that were at the oares, mer­uailyng at the great boldnesse of the Knight, did cease theyr exercise and worke of rowing. The blacke Knight being full of anger, as he which was one of the best in all the worlde, drew out his sword, and went towards that bolde Knight. This furious Tinacrian séeing himselfe without the order of knighthood, would not lay hands on his sword, but laid hold of one of those long and heauie oares, and went and stroake at the black Knight, who did defend it and sayd: What do­est thou pretend to doo, thou foole and without wit, what do­est thou thinke with staues as a countrey clowne or villain to make battaile with me? I can doo no otherwise said the Tinacrian, and it is thy small curtesie which doth make me to doo this: for thou shalt vnderstand that I am a Donzel, & as yet haue no license to strike a knight, but if thou woul­dest doo so much, as giue me the order of knighthood, I will afterward make thée to knowe, that thou didst great villa­nye in not aunswering me.

Oh Gods sayd the blacke knight, is it possible that you consent that a boye should haue such boldnes: now I do wel perceyue that you doo begin to vse me as you were woont, neglecting my oblations, & paying with so great ingratitude one good thing which you haue done for me, in giuing mée such a Ladie for my wife, it doeth appeare that you haue re­pented your selues, for that you doe not alonelye procure [Page] to take her from me, but also to rob me of my honour. I wil deme you [...] [...]ith and lawes, or else recouer my Ladie and mi­stresse, and punish this foole in spite of your power: Come on thou vnfortunate youth and receiue the order of knighthood, that thou doest aske of me, come and receiue it by the hands of him which will quickly take it awaie from thée againe & also thy life. Giue it me once sayd the Tinacrian, and after­ward come what shall, and therwith he came vnto him with­out anie feare, and this braue knight did giue him the order of knighthoode, of him so much desired, and when that he had giuen it vnto him, without saying euer a word he laide hand on his sword, at such time as the Tinacrian was well adui­sed of the harme comming, & béeing both with their swords aloft, they made their encounter with a diuellish furie, the blacke knight did strike the russet knight first, and stroke him so furious a blowe that he made him to decline his head to his breast, and forced him to recoile backwards two or thrée steps, so that he lost the blowe he had readie to discharge vp­pon him, but he came quickly againe to himselfe, and lifting vp his swoord he stroke the Pagan so mightie a blowe vpon his healme, that he made all the téeth in his head to chatter, the knight with the blacke armour did verie much meruaile at that mightie blow, but yet it caused not in him anie trou­ble, but rather with great lightnesse he setteled himselfe vp­right againe, so then betwixt them began a meruailous terri­rible and well foughten battaile, that whosoeuer did beholde it, it caused them to haue great feare, the blowes were so ter­rible that were betwéene them, & the great noise which they made, procuring either of them to hurt his▪ enimie with as much pollicie and strength as might be, but yet for all that, it did pro [...]it little to anie of them both, for that either of them had to doe with a strong aduersarie. The ire of the blacke knight was such, y^t out of his Beauer procéeded great quan­t [...]tie of thicke smoake, to see that one alone young knight did so strongly defend himselfe, and with so great furie offend his enimie, this new knight had no lesse wrath to sée that the first with whom he made his triall shoulde intreate him so [Page 291] euill, iudgeing himselfe to be weake and of little valour, not knowing that he dealt with the flower of all knighthoode a­mongst the Pagans, and with like furie he thickened his blowes, in such sort, that many times he was amazed. In this sort they indured all that daie, and when they sawe that the darke and tenebrous night came vpon them, they did procure with more courage and strength for to finish their battaile. This strong and stout knight with the blacke armour, puf­fing and blowing like a bull, lifting vp his sword with both his hands, did discharge it vpon the new knight, who did re­ceiue that blowe vpon his shéeld, and cutting it in two parts, the sword descended vpon his healme with so great furye, that he made him to bowe his knées to the ground, and was faine to helpe himselfe with his left hand because he shoulde not fall, when the blacke knight sawe him in that order hée would haue laide hold on his healme for to haue pulled it off from his head, but this new warriour was not so far from himselfe, but that he put for his defence the point of his sword vnto his breast, with so great strength, that he made him to recoile backe, and for lacke of sight he put his foote vnder the end of an Oare, that without anie remedie to saue himselfe he fell vpon his backe, but with great lightnesse he arose a­gaine, in which space the new knight had time to settle him­selfe, and to take his sword in both his hands and stroke him such a blowe, that being constrained by the great force there­of to retire backe two steps, he had fallen downe if hée had not laide holde vpon one of the bankes of the Gallie, by the which he did sustaine himselfe, & therewith this new knight entered in with him, and with his handes he stroke him on the breast, that perforce be made him to fall downe, and in y^e fall of the Moore he reached forth his arme and laide holde vpon his shirt of maile, and caused him by force to fall downe with him, and when he sawe himselfe in that sort, he threw his sheeld from him, and verie strongly he threw his armes ouer his necke and held him fast, héere the new knight was constrained to doe the like, so that betwéene them beganne a mightie and terrible wrastling, tumbling and wallowing vp [Page] and downe the gallie, breaking their banks and oares, that it was straunge to sée. They indured long in this contention without knowing any aduantage either of the one part or of the other, in such sort, y^t for verie wearinesse they were con­strained to leaue y^e wrastling, & arose vp againe, & betooke thē selues againe vnto their swords, at y^t time the night was ve­ry darke, but the blacke knight with a loude voice called for lights, which presently we [...] brought them by y^e marriners, in the meane time these knights did somwhat breath thēselues, although it was not much▪ So when y^e lights were brought, they returned vnto their late contention with new force and strength: Oh Gods of little valour, said the Pagan, I cannot beléeue to the contrarie but that this is Mars y^t doth contend in battaile with me, & for the great enuie y^t he hath at me, he goeth about to dishonour me. Let it be who it may be of all you, for y^• I will heare giue you to vnderstand that you haue brought vp one y^t will make you know y^t he is of more force & strength then all you together, and with these thoughts hée thickned his blowes with great desperatnesse, & although [...] this last assault they wer more then two houres in their bat­taile, yet neither of them did faint, but with new force both together they lift vp their swords, & discharged thē together the one vpon the others helme with so great strength, y^t both of them together fell downe vpon the hatches of the gallie w^t ­out anie remembrance, & those which did looke vpon them did beléeue verily that they wer both dead, by reason of the great abundance of bloud which came forth of the beauers of their helmes, but quickly it was perceiued y^t ther was life in them, then was there an agréement made betwixt the marriners of the gallie & the barke, that they should take Poliphebo in­to his Barke, and either of them to prosecute his iourney, & not to tarrie till such time as they came to themselues, sus­pecting y^t the contention would not be ended without y^e death of one of them, which would be great pittie. So straight way they put their deuice in vre, Macedonio with the helpe of the marriners got his Lord into their barke, & they of the gally straight way began to folow their voiage, striking the water [Page 292] with their long oares with great violence, & so either of them departed and followed his voiage.

¶How the worthie Tinacrian did prosecute his voiage, and chaunced whereas he found the Queene of Mauritania euill intreated of a gyant, and of the battaile he had with him. Chap. 24.

IN the order as you haue heard they carried the new knight without anie remembrance, and when he came vnto himselfe and found himselfe in y^e order, with a loude voice he said: Oh Gods, is it possible to be true that I am ouercome in the first encounter and assault of my knighthood, & that you haue consented therevnto, héere I do curse the day in which I began to honour you, séeing that my sacrifices doth so little profit me. Then Macedonio did [...] of his sayings and said: My Lord, thou wert not ouer­come, neither had thy contrarie so much power, for y^t he was rather more worse intreated then you, in such sorte, that I know not whether he be aliue or dead. This new knight tur­ned his head, & looked on him with so much wrath & anger, y^t Macedonio durst not looke him in the face, and with great ire he said: Oh traitor, was it so, & why didst thou cōsent to bring me from thence, till such time as fortune had ben fauourable vnto me: Oh vile creature, thou dost not shew thy selfe to be y^e son of noble parents, in doing so bace a déede, I knowe not how I haue patience, y^t I throw thée not into the sea, for this great dishonour which thou hast done vnto me: Ah heauie knight of Tinacria & of little valour, I knowe not how thou canst name thy selfe to be y^e sonne of y^e most mightiest knight in the world, for y^t thou hast made so ill a proofe of thy selfe in thy first assalt: Oh Gods how haue you suffred so vilanous an act, it is not possible but y^e knight with whō I had combat is of more power then all you, descend into this barke & I will make you to know y^e same, héere I do deny al your powers, & I do determine to honor y^e God my father doth, who wil not [Page] [...] [Page 292] [...] [Page] reward me so ill as you do, and I doe acknowledge and con­fesse him to be the true God, and you all full of mockings, li­berall in promising, and slow in giuing, from this daie for­wards be assured y^t I will not aske you of anie thing, nei­ther wil I accept any thing from your vile hands. These and such like wordes sayd this new knight, & was in such anger, that neither Page nor Marriners durst speake vnto him, but to giue him contentment they rowed a pace towards y^e bark whereas that dolorous woman went. So in this [...]ort they trauailed all the rest of the night that remained, till such time as the daie began to be cléere, and straight waie they discried land, to which place with great hast they rowed, till such time as the barke was a ground, so this angrie young knight pre­sently leapt a shore, & Masedonio carried his healme, but hée tooke neither speare nor shéeld with him, the Marriners fol­fowed him & carried such victualls as they had, & they found no vsed way, but one narow path, the which they kept, and it brought them vnto a mightie greate & déepe riuer, wheras he sate downe & did refresh himselfe, & washed his hands & face, & called for to eate of that which they had brought, & when he had eaten, without anie more tarrying he begā to trauaile alongst the riuer side: he had not trauailed long when y^• they met with a poore countrie man, with a great hatchet in his hand, he was going to cut fire woode from those high & migh­tie trées: of whom they asked what countrie & land it was, & he told them y^t it was the land of Almania, but yet sir knight thou must pardon me, for y^t I doe request thée to returne a­gaine & procéed no farther this way if thou dost estéeme thy life, for in going on this way there is nothing to be had but death, for y^t the Lord of this riuer is a furious giant, & is cal­led Marmoraton, & the riuers name is Ospriz, this giant is y^e most furious in all the world, & is of such might y^t our Em­perour doth feare him, he hath also two sons who are no lesse furious then he is, although they are now very sad for cer­taine news which were brought them, how y^t a brother of his who was Lord of an Iland in Spaine called Corsa, was de­stroied, and all his people slaine by sword, & none left aliue by [Page 291] force of cruell warre: and in part of reuengement of all this harme done, no longer then yesterdaye, he brought hether a Ladie prisoner, and they say that she was the occasion of the death of them all as I haue tolde you, and straight way whē he came a shore, with a diuelish crueltie, he did all to bewhip and beate her, that it was very pitifull to beholde, swearing that euery day he would so torment her, till such time as her life and body did make their seperation, and he hath all his Castle compassed round about, with mightie strong and ar­med Knights, and with them his two sonnes, who doth kéep watch and ward for to defend the Castle: for that they saye, that the King of Mauritania doth followe and pursue them in a galley, for to cléere and set at libertie this Lady. This new Knight was very attentiue vnto the words which the countriman told him, and although he spake in the Tuscan tongue, yet he did vnderstand him, for that he was broughte vp to vnderstand and speake all languages, and thought ve­rely, that he with whom he had battaile in the galley, was the King of Mruritania, and thinking thereon, it caused him to be more furious in his heart, for that as you haue hearde, he had the experience of his force and strength, and thought by him he was ouercome, and without saying anye word, he followed on his way, and did determine, that if for­tune did so fauour him to rescue and set at libertie this La­die, not for to let her passe, till such time, as the King did come in her demaund, (and if it were he with whom he had the battaile) he would not deliuer her but with mortall bat­taile. So trauailing with this thought, the night came on, & it was so darke, that he was constrained to se [...]ke some place to take his rest, and laying himselfe downe vnder a mightie Pine trée, he passed that night, speaking a thousande blasphe­mies against the Gods.

Artemidoro declaring the acts and déeds of this Knight, saith, that he was the most furious in all the world, and a very friend to aide and succour all those, that could doo little for themselues: and if he chaunced at any time to begin an enterprise that he could not wel compasse, with double force [Page] he would prosecute it. In such sort, that many times he made resistaunce against inchantments, for y^t he had more strength and force, than euer Knight or Giant had, at any time before, and did surmount very much his bretheren and Cousins. He made no reckoning of loue in his youth, by which he was iudged to be the Emperours sonne, as in the third parte of this booke shall be tolde you. So when y^e morning was come, this young Mars was not slothfull, but arose vp and follow­ed his iourney, and his Page followed him with his helme: he had not trauailed scarce halfe a mile, when that he heard a pitifull lamentation of a woman, who by reason of her great wéeping, her voyce was very hoarce. So he stayed to heare from whence that lamentable noyse should come, and went towards that place whereas it was, and saw a far off a high piller of stone, out of the which, there came foorthe a spoute of very faire and cléere water, and thereat was bound a woman all naked, her backe fastened to the piller, and her armes backward imbracing the piller, and there her handes fast bound. Her skin was so faire and white, that if it had not bene that he heard her lamentation, he would haue iud­ged her to haue bene an image made artificially of Alabaster ioyned vnto the piller. This warlike young Knight laced on his helme, and came vnto the place whereas she was: and when he saw her, he thought verely that it was the Quéene of Mauritania of whom the countrey man told him, and by reason of the coldnesse of the darke night, and with her great lamentation and wéepings, she was so full of sorow and af­fliction, that she could scarce speake. Likewise the Knightes heart so yerned at the sight of that vnhappie Lady, that al­most he could not looke on her for wéeping: but with a sor­rowfull sigh he sayd. O cruell hands, is it possible, that there should remaine in you so much mischiefe, that whereas there is [...]o great beautie and fairenesse, you should vse such basenes and villanie, she doth more deserue to be beloued and serued, then to be in this sort so euill intreated.

This Knight did very much, and with great sorrow be­hold her white skin and backe, all to be spotted with her red [Page 292] bloud. And taking a cloke from one of the mariners, he threw it vpon her, for to couer her body, and tooke her in his arms and commaunded Macedonio for to vnlose her. This vnhap­pie Lady neuer felt nor knew what was done vnto her, till such time as she was vnbound out of those bands, and in the Knights armes: and giuing a terrible sigh, she thought that she had bene in the armes of that furious Giaunt, saying. Oh Brufaldoro my Lord and husband. The Knight hearing those wordes, was fully certified, that it was he with whom he had had battaile: and so it was true as hath bene tolde you. This new Knight would haue aunswered her, but hée was disturbed by hearing of a great noyse of a horse, which séemed to be in the wood amongst the trées, and for to sée what it should be, he left the Ladie lieng along vpon the grounde, in the kéeping of his Page and the marriners, and went to­wards that place, whereas he heard that rushing noyse, and sawe y^t it was a mightie great & monstrous Giant mounted vpon a great beast, the which was Marmoraton, who retur­ned to see if the Lady were aliue, for to torment her a new. And when he came vnto the piller, and saw not the Ladye, with an irefull looke he cast his eyes, looking about on euerye side, and at last he saw the Knight, who was comming to­wardes him with a reasonable and quiet pace, and how that the Lady was vntyed, making her sorrowfull complaint. And séeing them in this order, with great fury vpon his ter­rible beast he came towardes them, and when he was nigh them, he staid and did behold the great proportion and gentle disposition of the Knight, hnd asked him saying. Art thou by fortune the King of Mauritania that traiterously hath slaine in the field my brother and his children. I am not he that thou dost aske for sayd the Tinacrian, but rather I do giue thée to vnderstande, that he is the Knight that I d [...]e most hate, and I am a knight that at the sorrowfull complaynt of this Ladye am come hether, and seeing her to bee a ve­rye fayre woman, and without anye deserte to be thus so euill intreated, it mooueth mee to put my person in [Page] aduenture against them, that will séeme farther to misuse her. In the meane time whiles the Knight was saying these words, the Gyant was beholding him very preciselye, and knit his browes with the great anger he receiued to heare these words, and with great fury he spurred his monstrous beast, that he made him giue so mightie a leape, that he rea­ched vnto the place whereas the knight was, and it lacked little, that he had not fallen vpon this new knight, who with great lightnesse did apart himselfe from him, and drewe out his sword, and would haue stroke him: but the beast passed by with so great fury that he could not reach him. The Gi­ant straight way returned his great beast, & with his broade [...]auchon in his hand he came against the Prince, and would haue stroke at him. This inuincible Tinacrian did abide his comming, and at the discharging of the Giaunts blowe, he stepped on the one side towards his left hand, and stroke an ouerthwart blow with so great strength vpon his knée, that by reason his armour was not very good, he cut it a sunder, so that leg and all fell downe to the grounde, and the mon­strous Giant fell on the other side likewise to the earth, and with great roaring began to blaspheme against the heauens for this his sodaine mishap. There was a man that came with the Gyant, who when he saw all that had passed, with great feare returned the way from whence he came. The Prince when he saw that with so great ease he was cleare of the Giant, with a loude voyce he said. Oh God whom the Christians doo worship, I doo giue thée thankes, and I doo ac­knowledge that all this my good successe doth procéede from thee, and héere I doo promise and vowe, that once comming vnto my father, to accomplysh and performe all that I am bounde to doo, for to be a true Christian. The great beast whereon the Gyaunt latelye rode, did very well please and gaue great contentment vnto the Knight, for that he was of a bigge stature, and of a very good haire, because the halfe parte forwardes was was of the colour of a Wolfe, and the other halfe was all blacke, sauing that héere and there it was spotted with little white spots. His feete were clouen, so [Page 288] that he néeded not at anie time to be shooed, his necke was somewhat long, and a little head, with great cares hanging down like a hound, his pace was with great maiestie, and he doubled his necke that his mouth touched his breast, there came foorth of his mouth two great tusks, and he did exceed all beasts in the world in lightnesse, and did runne with a verie good grace. The young knight receiued so great delight in him, that he did determine to take and kéepe him for him­selfe, & not to vse anie other horse so long as this beast would indure, and without the helpe of stirop or anie other thing he leapt into the saddle, and commaunded his Page and the Marriners, that in the thickest of the forrest they shoulde a­bide his comming, and to haue great care of that Ladie, and not to remoue from thence till such time as they dyd heare the sound of his horne, and when he had aduertised thē what they should doe, he tooke the narrow path by which the Gy­ant came, in the which he had not trauailed long, when that vpon a sodaine (not knowing what it should be) there came a damsell and put her selfe before him, who brought vnto him a shéeld verie rich, in the which was painted a trée, the one halfe was of siluer and had a braunch broken which hung downe, out of the which ranne streames of red bloud, and the other ha [...]e was of golde, and by it a knight who did contend to breake one of the braunches, and on the shéeld were cer­taine letters which sayd: Contention oft times doth ouer­come fortune. Then the damsell sayd: Poliphebo, they which doe wish and desire all good vnto thee, doeth sende thee this sheeld with the deuice which thou doest sée, & vnderstand, that thou hast thereof great néed, & I desire thee to note well [...]he deuice which it hath, for that in the time as y^e braue bastard Lyon with his surmounted contention shal ouercome all in­chantments, in tearing the golden braunch, although it is not ordained for him. The sonne of Garrofilea shall loose all his libertie. And in saying these wordes she put the shéeld about his necke, and without anie more tarrying▪ shée vanished a­waie, without béeing anie more séeke, at the which this new knight was verie much amazed and troubled, & considering [Page] the deuise which the shield had, he did imagine to what ende it shuld apply, and likewise of the words which the damosel had sayd. And béeing troubled with these thoughts and such lyke, he prosecuted his waye: and when he came foorthe of that narrow and straight way, he came into a great plaine, in the which he saw a Castle, scituated vppon a rocke, and a mile from that place there was another Castle, which séemed to be very strong. And in the Castle that was in the plaine, there was a great noyse, and strayght way there issued out a company of Knights, and amongst them a valyant Giaunt, who with great pride came towards the Knight, and when they came nigh, and saw that he was mounted vpon the gi­aunts beast, with great anger and fury they assaulted him, & they were to the number of twentie Knights. This coura­gious young Knight was nothing troubled to sée them, but rather did abide their comming with his sword in his hand, and with as much courage, as though he had had as manye more in his company to help him. And when they had made their encounter vpon him, yet he remained as firme in the saddle, as a strong and hard Rocke: but yet at their passing by, he stroke one of them such a blow vpon the shoulder, that cutting it in two péeces, he ouerthrew him to the grounde. At that time approched the Gyant, who by reason of his de­formitie in bignesse, his horse could not trauaile so fast as the others did. He brought in his hand a strong speare, where­with he made his encounter against the young Knight, that he made him to leane on the one side in the saddle: but with a trice he setled himselfe againe, and throwing his shielde at his backe, he tooke his sword strongly in both his handes, & stroke his beast with the spurres, who with a light leap was with his enimie, and discharged his blow vpon the Gyants shield with so great furie, that he cut it in two péeces, and it descended from thence vpon his hard and stéelie healme with so great strength, that he made him to fall vppon his Horse necke without anye remembraunce, and retourned with his sword, thinking to giue him the seconde blowe, which by no meanes he could, for that the Knights did so assault him on [Page 294] euery side: but it did little profite them all that euer they did or could doo, for returning against them with his light beast, he intreated them in such sort, that when the astonished Gi­ant came vnto himselfe, there were fiftéene of his Knightes ouerthrowen to the ground. Oh how angrie and wrathfull was this Giant when he saw so great slaughter, who with a furious rage drew out his fawchon, & with both his hands he stroke him such a blow vpon his fine and hard helme, that he did depriue him of his vnderstanding. His furious beast being scarred with that terrible blowe, began to run about the field, in such sort, that if the knight had not quickly come to himselfe, he had carried him into the Castle: but remem­bring himselfe, he rayned the bridle of the beast, and came a­gainst his enimie with such fury, and with his sword all a­loft, he stroke him such a blow vpon his helme, that cleauing it in péeces with the head downe to the shoulders, hée fell downe dead to the ground. The rest of the Knights which remained, when they saw that terrible blow wold haue run away: but sodainly they sawe come forth out of the other Castle, as many moe knights, as came at the first, and with the like pride and fury as the others did, they assauted Poli­phebo, who séeing that new assault, and that there came an­other Giant in their company, he made himselfe readye for his defence, and procured to doo his best to deliuer himselfe from them, and taking a speare which was one of the dead knights, and being shrowded vnder his shield, he went foorth to mtéee the Gyant, who when he saw him come, addressed himselfe. They made their incoūter very strongly vpon their shéelds, and the Giant did no more but breake his speare in small péeces, but he neuer moued the Tinacrian in his sad­dle, who made his encounter so stronglye, and stroke him with so great fury vppon his shéelde, that by reason of the great sharpnesse of his speare it rested not there, but pearce­ing it thorough and also his armour, it appeared behinde him at his backe, in such sort, that he ouerthrew him dead to the grounde.

[Page]Oh meruailous and valiant déedes done by one Knight, that in one daye, by thrée blowes, he ouerthrewe and slewe thrée great and strong Giants. The knights that came foorth of the Castle, when they sawe that mightie déede, with greate showtes and shrikes they compassed him round about, stri­king vppon him manye a furious blowe, and although they thought that of the last battail [...] he remained verie wearie, they were greatly deceiued, for that he began with greater wrath to strike and wounde them then at the first. In suche sort he behaued himselfe amongst them, ouerthrowing and wounding on euery side, that in short time they left him at his libertie, & the like he would haue done, if there had bene as many more before him, his anger and fury was such, the rest which remained, being about the number of six knights, put themselues vnto flight. The Tinacrian would not fol­low them, neither made he any reckoning of them, but ente­red into the Castle, and did alight from his great beast, and went into a broade Courte, whereas were all the Giauntes household seruaunts, and when they saw him, they began to runne away, and to hide themselues, as from theyr sodayne death. The knight did call them againe, and bad them be in quiet, and not to feare, for that he would not hurt them, if they would shewe him where the prisoners were in the ca­stle. Then one of them said: Prisoners there are, but what shall it profite to showe thée the place, when thou canst not deliuer them, for that ther be such kéepers to kéepe them. Let it be what it will be said the Knight, for once thou shalte showe me where they are. As for their kéepers they haue but smal defence, neither haue you any occasion to feare, for that this daye they haue made accompt and payd all the euills & harmes y^t they haue done. The man when he heard this, without any replying tooke a bundle of keyes, and came out of the kitchin into the Court, whereas he opened a doore, and entred therein, they descended downe a paire of staires into a déepe dungeon, whereas they heard a very sorrowfull and lamentable noyse. The knight spake with a lowde voyce & sayd. Who is it that lyeth so lamenting within this darke [Page 290] dungeon. To whom was aunswered with a verye dolorous voyce: Héere lyeth the most grieuous and afflicted knight that may be found in all the worlde, & in his company other Knights, brought vnto this place by forcible vyolence, why I doo not know, for that we haue not seene one another, by reason of the great and terrible darknesse that is heere. Wel sayd the Prince, come forth, if heereafter you can defend and kéepe your selues from other prisons, so it is, for of this, from this day forwards you are cleere: and in saying these words, he ascended vp the staires, and after him the man which ope­ned the doore. Then the prisoners in great hast came vp the staires, and comming foorth whereas the Knight was, they all fell downe on their knées, giuing thankes vnto God for that he had giuen them libertie: and afterward they kissed the Knights hands, desiring God to increase his powers and honour, who with a very good grace gaue them such answer, that they were all very well content. Amongst them there was one prisoner of a very goodly disposition and faire face, and of a double stature, more then the others, who with a seuere countenaunce and well placed wordes, did surrender vnto the Knight great thankes for that good tourne which he receiued at his hands: he spake to him in the Tuscane tongue. It séemed vnto the Prince that he should be a person of estimation, and asked of him his name, and what countri­man he was? To whom the prisoner sayde: My name (sir knight) is Florisarte, sonne vnto the Duke of Bauiera, brother vnto the good Emperour Ladislao of Almania, who was ta­ken prisoner villainously by these euill Giants. The Tina­crian receiued great contentment, for y^t he had done so great seruice vnto so mightie a Knight and Lord, and with a mer­ry countenance he tooke him by the hand, & went vp a paire of staires, & after him went all those that were deliuered out of prison, which were to the number of fortie knights, & of squires, pages & other seruants, to the number of an hundred. So when they were aboue in a great hall, the knight com­maunded that there shuld be brought them somwhat to eate, for that they had great need thereof. This new knight was [Page] walking vp and downe with Florisarte of Bauiera in y^t hal, and went vnto a window which opened towards that place whereas he lefte his company, and blewe his horne with so great strength that they heard it, and knew the sound: and being thereof very glad and ioyfull, they arose vp, and wente vnto the Castle. In the way▪ whereas they went, they saw the Knights that were slaine and the Gyants, and were ve­rie much amazed at so great slaughter, and went forwardes, till they came vnto the Castle, whereas they found y^e prince, who was very glad and reioyced much of that which was done, and commaunded straight way that the Lady shuld be very well looked vnto, and healed of her harme receiued.

¶How Poliphebo did prosecute his iourney for to goe into Grecia, & how in the way he met by aduenture with cer­taine Clownes forcing of a Ladie, and would haue slaine her, and of all that happened of that Ladie. Cap. 25.

THe space of thrée daies was Poliphebo in the Castle of the giant, in which time he did procure all kinde of remedies y^t was possi­ble, to bring the Quéene againe vnto her health, & to be healed of her euill. So with the great care be had, and the good diligence which was vsed, she recouered her health, & receiuing y^e castle for his owne, he put good order therin for their gouernment. The fourth day he determined to depart, & to prosecute his iourney, & to carrie in his company y^e quéene Espinela, & the gentle knight Florisarte. His pretence was, to passe through all Almania & Hungaria, till he came into Grecia, for to sée his father, & make himselfe knowen vnto him, & did procure to doo such déeds, y^t with great honor he might name himselfe to be sonne vnto so noble a father. The occasion why he did carry y^• quéene Espinela with him, was, for y^t he vnderstoode, that y^e king of Mauritania wold come to séeke her: & to per­form his promise, not to deliuer her without mortall battell, [Page 296] he wold not loose her company. And so leauing y^e castle in the kéeping of a knight of Almaine, & in y^e name of y^e Emperor Ladislao, he tooke his iourny towards Espira, wheras at that time y^e Emperor kept his parliament, & commanded y^e mar­riners to returne vnto their barke, & he in company w^t the Quéene & Florisarte, & his Page Macedonio tooke their iour­ney as aforesaid. When y^e quéene saw the knights determi­nation, & vnderstood his pretence, with sorrowfull teares she called for her king: but all her sorrowes & griefe did little a­uaile, for y^t the knight wold not by any meanes chaunge his pretence: & by reson of y^e great sorrow, griefe & heauie chéere of the quéene, it was y^e occasion y^t all trauailing & venterous knights, which sawe her, did procure battell with the newe knight, for to set her at libertie. So they trauailed viii. daies, wherin they passed y^e Alpes, & went through all y^e dukedome of Bauiera, by Minique & Aspruch, & being ouertaken by the night, they wer constrained to take their rest, by a very faire & cléere fountain, wheras they did alight & refresh thēselues, likewise they did eate of such meate as they had. And when they had satisfied themselues, euery one prepared himselfe to take his rest, & being wery of their iourny, they fel al a sléep, sauing only Poliphebo, who was awake, hauing in remem­brāce such things, as ministred him most care: & being in this thought, he heard a certaine lamentation, which séemed to be a far off, & the better to heare what it was, he arose vp on his féete, & being very attentiue, he plainly heard & perceiued that it was a womā, & as a knight y^t alwaies did procure to help & succor those which could do litle, he laced on his helm, & threw his shield at his necke, & with a reasonable pace he went towards y^e place wheras he heard y^e lamentation, & the more he went, the plainer he heard the lamentatiō, he had not gone far when y^t he saw two clownes had bound a Ladie all naked vnto a trée, & one of them had a sharp knife in his hand redie to murder her. The prince séeing them, w^t a loud voice said. Oh vile villaines, holde your hands, for if you doo not, it shall cost you your liues. And with these words, he lay [...] hande on his sword, and with great lightnes he ran where [Page] those villaines were, these miserable clownes with two for­ches which they had in their hands did abide his comming, & stroke with them vpon his hard shéeld each of them a blowe, but this knight with other two blowes did ouerthrow them dead to the ground, and went vnto the Gentlewoman, & cut the cords wherewith she was bound, & did help to couer her with her owne clothes. This heauie Gentlewoman though she did see her selfe frée from the villaines & at libertie, yet did she not let to perseuer in her sorrowfull lamentation, & said: Ah knight, the defender of my corporall death, wherby liuing I do passe a thousand deaths, I say that my sorrow and euill was such, y^t with more reason I may bewaile the life which thou hast giuen me, then the death which I am deliuered frō. And in saying these wordes she all to tare & rent her golden haire which she had. This pittifull knight did procure to di­sturbe her from doing to her selfe such violence, in offering vnto her all his power and strength for to remedie her euill, if it were possible to be remedied. This sorrowfull ladie said: If thou wert such a knight, that with they great valour and strength couldest set at libertie my hart from sorrow, as thou hast deliuered my bodie from death, I woulde declare vnto thée the greatest mishap that euer happened vnto woman, & thereby thou shuldest vnderstand whether I haue reason ra­ther to desire the death, then to liue, therefore gentle knight, I doe desire thée to sit downe and to hearken vnto me with attentiue eare, for that my iustice will moue and constraine thee to take my defence as thine owne, & so they sat down vn­der a great Pine trée which was harde by whereas she was bound, and with great abundance of teares she sayd.

‘After the losse of the Princesse Graualesa, they tooke out of the monestarie of Basilea, the Princesse Dondelaria, and a­mongst all them that were chosen to be at her seruice & com­mandement, I was takē for one, for y^t I was daughter vnto parents, of whom they made great reckoning, and againe, for y^t I was verie diligent in my seruice, & my father is y^e Earle of Bura, so it fell out (y^t it had ben better to y^e contrarie) Ther came to the court the daughter of y^e Earle of Tirol, who was [Page 297] of a meruailous and extreame beautie, who was at her en­trie accompanied with many worthy Knightes, for that all did respect the Earle verye much, because he was a very noble man. At the great fame and reporte of this daughter of the Earle of Tirol, for that she was of so excellent beautie, came many young Knights out of diuers countreyes to sée her, amongst whom came two bretheren, iolly young gen­tlemen, and sonnes vnto the Earle of Olanda, and a cousin of theirs, a valiant Knight, sonne vnto the Duke of Brabant. There was no great friendship betwixt these two brethren as it appeared, because they were of different condition the one from the other, & likewise great difference in their per­sons: for that the eldest had a very fierce countenaunce, and ill fauoured, and of great pride: and the youngest of a seuere and gentle countenaunce, and very humble of person, and was well beloued of all them in the Court. Both of them set their eyes vpon Clarentina, daughter vnto the Earle of Tirol, and for a farther euill, that false Cupide would not, but that she shuld likewise set her eyes on one of them, brin­ging her heart into captiuitie with the loue of Pinorante, the youngest of the two bretheren. Firidefonte who was the eldest hauing vnderstanding thereof, (being gouerned by his great pride) and seeing the small accompt that Clarentina made of him, the diuell straight wayes put into his heade, (with the great ieelousie that he had) for to kill his brother: but many dayes after, he went meruailously troubled, with great alterations in his thought, about the dooing of y^e wic­ked déede, sometimes ouercome by brotherly loue to leaue that enterprise, and at other times counsailed by his owne cholar to the contrarie. And in this sort he continued a long time, till in the end, Clarentina did vtter more at large her good wil vnto his brother, and vpon a time he saw them tal­king together, which was the occasion to confirm in him that damnable intent. Wherfore vpon a night as Pinorante was walking on the backe side of the Court, his euill brother did kill him with great crueltie, & leauing him vpon the ground, he returned vnto his lodging, and it was neuer knowen, [Page] who was the murtherer of him, and for that the fraternall bloud could not let but to wound verie much his heart, con­sidering the euill fact which he had done, he straight way re­pented himselfe thereof, which was afterward a farther euill, and forsomuch as the diuell was lodged in his heart, this his euill pretence did not rest with the death of his brother, but gathered in his thought to do a fact farre worser, and the oc­casion was, for that Clarentina made so great lamentation for the death of that vnhappie Pinaronte, and this was the pre­sumption that he would vse, ordeined by the diuell, and it so fell out, that I was wounded by that false Cupide with the loue of Firidefonte, not hauing anie respect vnto the ill fauo­rednesse of his face, and being constrained by the gréeuousnes of my wound, I gaue him cléerly to vnderstand therof, which was the occasion y^t he was the bolder to doe that which hée did, & seeing me so captiue in loue of him, he was in no doubt to discouer vnto me his whole heart, all the which he tolde me, being in place where boldly he might speake. And he said: Ah Clarentina my verie friend, I haue had greate desire to haue had this opportunitie for to talke with thée, and to dis­couer my whole heart. Thou hast well séene this vnhappie and cruell death of my vnfortunate brother, thou shalt vnder­stand that Clarentina was the occasion of his death, but and if thou wilt doe that which now I will desire thée, I do héere sweare vnto thée by the high and mightie God, y^t there shall none be Ladie of my heart but alonely thy beautie, then I (vnhappie and without all good fortune) being wholy yéelded and so ouercome with his loue, did offer my selfe to doe all that which his pleasure was to commaunde mée. Then this traitour with dissembling wordes sayde: I alwayes had this good opinion in you my loue, that you woulde accom­plish my request. Well, thou shalt nowe vnderstande that I doe pretende to accuse Clarentina for the murther of my brother, and the better to bring to passe my desire, I will saye that thou art witnesse therevnto, and doest knowe the certaintie thereof. Then I thinking to obtaine that which [Page 298] so long time I had desired, did promise him to doe it, as by the proofe it shoulde plainely appeare. And with this con­clusion he departed from me, and went and gaue his cousin Rodelando to vnderstand of it, who is one of the strongest and valyauntest knightes in all this Countrie, and Rode­lando beléeuing that it should bée true, did offer himselfe to be the seconde in the defence in helping of his cousin, and so both of them went and made their accusation before the Em­perour, the Emperour commaunded mée to bée called before him, for to declare what I did knowe therein, and did ac­complish and performe all that I had promised. Then this faultlesse Ladie séeing her selfe so falsely accused, did wéepe verie gréeuously, desiring the Emperour to appoint a time that shée might seeke one for to make aunswere in her de­fence, and for to prooue that it was all false that was layde against her. So it was agréed, that in the space of two mo­neths shée should bring a knight that shoulde defend her ho­nour, and if so be that shée coulde not, that then shée shoulde be condempned according vnto the lawe, that is, to burne her quicke, and in the meane time that shée should be put in­to a tower, and there well and strongly kept, not forbidding anie, whosoeuer hée were, naturall or straunger, but that hée might lawfully make battaile in her defence. So likewise they commaunded that I should be put in another tower, that if it were so that I should be found a liar, that I shoulde bée punished with her prouided death. So I when I vnderstood it was in a great feare, and went priuelye vnto the lodging of Firidefonte, of whome I was verie well receiued, and fai­ning that he would send me into his Countrie, he put all thinges in order for my iourney, and gaue me these two vil­laines whom thou hast slain to be my keepers, who brought me hether, and brought me vnto the point as you found me. And as I do beleeue it came determined from thence, for that his euill pretence should not be discouered. Heere you maye vnderstand sir knight, wherefore I sayd that it had ben bet­ter to haue let me ben slaine then to liue with so great griefe.’ [Page] And now that I haue told you all the matter, and the truth, heere I doo desire you, that if there be in you any bountie, (as it doth appeare and shewe by your presence) that thou wilt take vppon thy owne charge this battaile and defence, for that I would (séeing that I haue bene the occasion of all this euill and trouble happened vnto this guiltlesse Lady, in giuing false euidence) be the meanes whereby she might re­ceiue remedie for the same. This Tinacrian was very much amazed to heare of such an intangled and false forged mat­ter: and for that he was one that did procure to aide and helpe the afflicted, he did very fréely offer himselfe, to procure to make her defence. At this instant the dawning of the day appeared, and the Prince tooke the Gentlewoman, and went whereas the Knight of Bauier was, and did awake him, and gaue him to vnderstand, of all that the Gentlewoman hadde tolde him, who incontinent did offer himself to be the second in the battaile for her defence. When the Quéene was all in a readinesse to trauaile on their iourney and all the rest, they made great hast, and tooke the way which led them vn­to Espira, and carried the Gentlewoman with her face coue­red, that she might not be knowen. So when they came with in a mile of the Citie of Espira, they must néedes passe a great and mightie broad riuer, whereas they lefte Candisea in a dayrie house, giuing great charge that she shuld be well looked vnto, and the Quéene and all the rest passed the Ri­uer in a barke, and neuer staid till they entered into the ci­tie, and had their helmes on, and their shields at their backs. This strong and stout Tinacrian rode mounted vppon his temerous beast, with so great and goodly a demeanour, that all which did behold him, greatly meruailed what knight it shuld be, of so great and comely stature, and when they saw the deuise of the trée and broken braunch on his shielde, they straight wayes know that he was the Knight that had slaine the Gyaunts, for that they had heard the newes there of in the Court, which was the occasion that much people, did folow him to behold his face, if he did put off his helm, to see if they could know him. So these two knightes and [Page 301] the Quéene (with all the people that followed him) came vn­to the Emperours pallaice, whereas the Prince did alight, & taking the Quéene in his armes, he tooke her from her Pal­fraie and lead her by the right hand, so with a verie gentle & comely grace they went vp into a royall hall, and Macedo­nio remained belowe and kept their horses. When they en­tered they found the Emperour accompanied with all his no­bilitie, & the knight was knowen vnto thē al by the deuice of his shéeld, & therfore al people did approch to know wherfore his comming was, & greatly meruailed at his bigge stature & gentle disposition, and they all kept silence to heare what the knight of the Braunch woulde saie, who when he was be­fore the Emperour made a shewe of his high lignage from whence he did descend, in making of his dutifull reuerence. The Emperour hauing knowledge of his person by y^e report which he had heard, did returne his salutation in equall mā ­ner, & when the Emperour would haue spoken, the valiaunt knight of the branch did disturbe him and sayd.

‘High & mightie Lord, the fame which I haue heard of your great vertue hath incouraged me to come into thy kingdome, with intent to yéeld my selfe into your seruice, if that your highnesse be content therwith, which if you wil not permit, yet at least to suffer me according to equitie, to shewe the strength of my arme vpon certaine thy subiects, at the which I do desire thée not to receiue any displeasure, for y^t thou art accounted to be verie right & iust, for such is the fame that is reported of thee through the world, & I vnderstanding y^t th [...]u wilt reioyce in all y^t which is true, & also for that the truth might be iustified, as it is reason, although the one part hath shewed with witnesse & words his matter to be of truth yet for all that at all times they ought not to be beléeued, but that the contrarie partie must likewise be hearde, for that thereby rightly may be shewed and declared the equitie of iustice, I doe not speake this for that your highnesse hath de­termined anie thing without hearing of both partyes, but for that it is brought vnto another tryall, and referred by your maiestie to the tryall of armes, to iustifie the right of eyther [Page] part, and named a space, in the which that faultlesse Gentle­woman, daughter vnto the Duke of Tirol, should séeke one for to defend her honour and right, beeing falsely accused for a murtherer, partly for this thing also am I come before thy high presence, to make them vnderstand their wicked pre­tence & false accusation which they haue raised on her with­out desert, and if they be héere present, let them marke what I saie, and if not, let your highnesse command that they may be aduertised héereof, for that I wil make them to know that it is great falsehoode and treason in that they haue accused Clarentina.’

These two cosins were there present and heard very wel his words, and Rodelando without anie respect vnto the em­perour, taking his cosin Firidefonte by the hand, stepped forth with a furious countenance and said: ‘Héere thou hast before thée they whom thou dost demaund for, beholde vs well, and let not thy youthfull courage deceiue thée, giuing enterprise vpon that, of which the sonnes of the Emperour Trebatio would make doubtfull, therefore looke what thou doest deter­mine, and giue vs our aunswere, and that quicklye. The Knight of the Braunch in the meane time that Rodelan­do was saying these wordes, did verie much beholde and viewe him, and it séemed vnto him that hée was a Knight of greate valour, but yet for all that his strong members did not dismaie him, but with a graue spéech and seuere countenaunce he aunswered: If thou hast so much haste to knowe my determination, héere I doe saye that in the accu­sation that thou hast put against Clarentina, thou doest lye lyke a false Knight, and that thy cosin lyke a cruell murthe­rer doth deserue the death for killing of his owne Brother, committed by his owne handes, who was more worthie in all respects then he is.’ Then Firidefonte with great fury an­swered and sayd.

O vile ribalde, howe can I suffer so greate euill, to bée charged with that which that naughtie woman hath com­mitted and caused to be done, if thou wert not before the [Page 302] Emperour it should cost th [...]e full déere, and out of hand thou shouldest haue thy payment for this great lie, but yet I doe comfort my selfe, for that verie quickly I will bée reuenged on thée. I cannot declare the great anger which the knight of the Braunch receiued, for that he tourned vp the white of his eyes, and all his face waxed wanne and blacke, and trem­bling with very anger moouing his pace he sayd. I doe pro­mise thée thou traitour, that I will make thée with thy owne mouth confesse this great treason which thou hast commit­ted, and if it were not but that I am before so high an Em­perour, héere in this place without going anie farther, with my fists like a vile traitour I would make thée to confesse it. Héere Firidefonte had no patience to heare these things spo­ken to his face, but like a tyger he leapt vnto him and wrap­ped his cloake about his arme and drew out his sword, and went against the knight of the Braunch. This worthy war­riour thereat made no kinde of mouing, but did abide his cō ­ming, making an outward shewe of the greate valour of his heart, Firidefonte did strike at him with his sworde, but the knight of the Braunch stepped on the one side, and made him to loose his blow, so that his sword stroke on the ground, and like vnto the winde he closed with him, and stroke him with his hands on the breast with so great furie and strength, that without hauing anie power to saue himselfe, he gaue a great fall backwards to the ground, Rodelando séeing that on the best side entered to him, and did imbrace him, and held him verie strongly betwéene his armes. Then this gentle knight drew out his swoorde, and hauing his arme aloft he stroke a blowe, the which chaunced vpon a young man called Polio, of Velduque, sonne vnto the Duke of Velduque, and that cruell sword did light vppon his head, and cutting it in two parts, the young man fell downe dead to the ground. Nowe was it not requisite that the Tinacrian should remaine in the armes of Rodelando, but with great strength he did ruste him selfe, & threw him from him. At y^t time the whole Court was in a tumult for the death of Polio, and euerie one drewe out his sworde and did verie sore assalt the knight of y^e Branch, [Page] but he with his sworde made such a slaughter amongest them, that they did verie well feele and vnderstand the vali­antnesse of his heart, & the great noise & crieng out of the Em­perour, neither his emperiall presence was sufficient to ap­pease them. At this time the Emperours gard came into the hall, who were cōmanded that with their halberts they shuld indeuour to part them, then the Emperour went to lay hand on Firidefonte, the beginner of all this tumult, but he putting himselfe in defence went forth of the hall, so likewise did Ro­delando, y^e Emperour séeing that, laide hand on the Bauiero, who with great humilitie did obey his Lord, he would haue done y^t like vnto Poliphebo, but he put the point of his sword before him & said: Kéepe your highnesse backe, for that I am none of them that so lightly wil be taken prisoner, take & put in prison thy owne vassalles, such as hath had little respect vnto thy presence, & let not them which are not of thy king­dome pay for this thy anger. The emperour very angry said: If my vassalls are in the fault, they shall haue theyr punish­ment, & thou also if thou dost deserue it, therfore yéeld thy self to prison, if not, vnderstand that it wil be to thy cost. I know not what will fall out héerein, said the Tinacrian, but w^t my good will neither you nor all yours shall triumph of my im­prisonment, & before that this doth come to passe, I wil make more then one thousand of them that do pretend to take me prisoner loose their liues. Then the Emperour with a loude voice commaunded to fake him, at which wordes all the whole gard together pressed at him, but this valiaunt knight did determine that in spite of them all he woulde cléere and set himselfe at libertie, there did he begin to doe wonderfull feates of armes, breaking and cutting a sunder those sharpe Halberts, and killing and wounding that it was terrible to beholde. All the people feeling and séeing the effect of his rigorous arme, did giue him waye and let him goe tyll hée came to the stayres, there they beganne to assault him a newe with verye much people, and amongest them some armed knightes. The Knight when he sawe that he coulde not passe in quiet, he was cleane without anye patience, [Page 301] and not fearing death but forgetting pollicie, he firmed him­selfe, and throwing his shield at his backe, he tooke his sword in both his hands, and layd about him on euerye side, & lyke vnto a furious Lion he pressed amongst the people, cutting, killing and wounding, for to haue way to descend y^e staires. At that time was the Knight in great perill, for that those which were before him, did persecute him with the sharpe poynts of their halberds, and likewise those which were be­hinde him did the like: in such sorte, that the Knight béeing on the staires, could not tourne himselfe at his pleasure: but yet all that euer they did, did little auaile or profite them, for that with the great furie which he had, he pressed vpon them that were before him, and what with killing and wounding, he forced them to giue him way to descend downe y^e staires, where hée founde many people fallen downe with the great hast they had to flye from him. And when he saw that hée could not passe by reason of the people, he gaue a great leap, & with wonderfull lightnesse he passed ouer the people that were fallen, and went vnto the place whereas Macedonio did abide his comming, with his great beast, & with strange lightnes he lept vpon his back, and rode into the great court, whereas he was assaulted of very much people, for that the Emperour at the windowes cryed out vppon them to take him. The knight of the branch, when he found himself moū ­ted vpon his great and light beast, then he feared nothing, and pricking him with the spurres, incouraging him with a showte, he passed downe the stréete, and neuer stayd, till he came vnto the riuers side, and passed in the barke vnto the other side, and determined not to depart from thence, till such time as he had séene an end of that which touched the iustice of Clarentina, and also to recouer againe his Lady the quéene, who with great affliction, as a woman all alone, put her self out of the prease of Knightes, and abode in a corner of the great Hall, to kéepe her selfe from harme. The people of the Emperour, which followed the Knight of the Branch, when they sawe him passe with his great beast so swiftly, they re­tourned backe againe whereas the Emperour was, whome [Page] they found verie much amazed at the great prowesse of this knight. The Earle of Maguntia who likewise followed the knight, at his returning againe he found Macedonio, & tooke him and carryed him before the Emperour and said: This is Page vnto that diuell, who to our cost and spite of our téeth is gone awaye. The Emperour did beholde him and sawe that he was of a good disposition & had a faire face, he asked of him and said: Tell me my friend, howe doest thou call thy Lord, is he by fortune some diuell, for that according as hée hath shewed himselfe vnto vs, it cannot be but that he is some infernall creature. This young Gentleman with great deliberation sayd: My Lord is a humane creature and sonne vnto a humane man, and more mightier then your highnesse, for you shall vnderstand that he is sonne vnto the Emperor Trebatio, Emperour of Grecia, and his mother is the quéene Garrofilea Quéene of Tinacria, and your highnesse shall vn­derstand that he is a knight that will reward (and that verye well) all the harme and griefe which is done vnto him, with whatsoeuer knight he be in all the world, the Ladie which he brought with him is of high estate, for you shall vnderstand that she is a great Ladie and a quéene. The Emperour whē he heard this, he looked about for her, and sawe her in a cor­ner of the hall verie sore afflicted, and commaunded that shée should be carried with great honour and reuerence whereas y^e Empres was, & with great anger he returned vnto Mace­donio and said: I will sée how farre the power will, extend of this diuell, for that he shall not haue thée, neither his Ladie, till such time as I haue him in my power. All that the Em­perour sayd was heard by a brother of Clarentinas, who was called Laurentino, that came vnto the court that present day, & being verie much moued, he said: Your highnesse doth very ill in intreating my sister so euill, is this the rewarde for the great seruice which I & my father haue done for you, to pro­cure for to destroy & kill him, who respecting our honour, doth put his person in aduenture to deliuer my sister from that false accusation laide against her, and the other which came in his companie thou hast put in prison, and not content [Page 302] héerewith, but dost kéepe in thy power from him a Ladie and his Page, it shoulde suffice thée to knowe who they are, and the highnesse of their linage, and not in such sort to doe them wrong, my Lord, moderate your selfe and doe iustice, for that hetherto you haue bene a friend in dooing iustice and right, & doe not blemish this daie with thy great pride the high fame which in so manie yeares thou hast gotten. The Emperour who was blind & ouercome with anger, & verie wrathfull he sayd: Get thée hence in an euill houre vnto thy lodging, for that thy sister shall neither winne nor loose for thy speach. This valiant young man did answere: For that you are my Emperour & Lord you may intreat me in this order, but if that reason did now gouerne your breast, you would do more iustice then by your outward shewe you doe meane to doe, therefore now I doe saie, let them take héede who is in the fault, for that with my person and goods I doe determine to make my defence, and to aide and succour him, who for my sister doth put his life in aduēture. And in saying these words he departed out of the great hall, leauing the Emperour full of cholar and wrath, who commaunded to burie the dead bo­dies, and Polio with great honour. His death was verie sore lamented of many, for that he was wel beloued of all y^e court. Then they gaue the Emperour to vnderstand how that the knight whom he had in prison was sonne vnto the Duke of Bauiera, for the which he receiued great griefe, for that he was sonne vnto one of the mightyest Lordes that was in all Al­maine, his power was so greate, that hée and the power of Laurentino were able to maintaine warres agaynst the Emperour. So considering all things, the Emperour in his owne person went and tooke the Knight out of prison, of whome he vnderstoode all that happened in the Castell of the Rocke, and likewise the truth of the treason of Firide­fonte, and béeing in this communication, they hearde in the Court a greate rumour, and going to sée what was the oc­casion thereof, they sawe that there was brought two dead Knightes vppon two horses, and hadde on eyther of them a meruailous greate and cruell wound [...], which was as it [Page] appeared the occasion of their deaths, whereas we wil leaue them, for that the furie of this Tinacrian doth compell me to declare the end of this conflict, as in the Chapter following you shall vnderstand.

¶How the Tinacrian was tarrying to see if anie would come forth against him, for that which was past, and howe that Rodelando and his cosin made battaile with him, and how he ouercame them both. Chap. 26.

EUen as the furious Faunus in the moun­taines of Tartarie, doth couer his great & bru­tall members with the braunches of y^e migh­tie Pine trées, working pollicies to get his praie, for y^t he cannot finde wheron to execute his anger, for to satisfie his capitall enimie, hunger: euen so & rather more furious was this Tinacrian, abiding the comming of Macedonio, or anie other y^t perad­uenture might follow him, he blasphemed against the Gods & looked vp vnto the heauens, & said: So long as I beléeue in them, there will nothing prosper with me, nor in anie thing will my honour increase. And being in this spéech he sawe cō ­ming y^e waie which he came, two well proportioned knights, mounted vpon two mightie horses, who when the came vnto the waters side, in greate hast they called for the barke, & loo­king round about them to sée if they could espie their enimie, they sawe him on the other side of the riuer, vnto whom with a loude voice they called, & did defie him to mortall battell, the knight of the braunch when he heard them call, he made himselfe readie, & entering into the barke he said: Tarry ther & I will come ouer to sée if you do séeke me or not, and ther­with he made great hast with the barke, & whē he came nigh vnto the shore he mounted vpon his mightie beast, & with a light leap he was a land. Then one of those knights with an high voice sayd: Now sir traitor, thou shalt pay y^e great offēce which thou didst vnto me before y^e Emperour, for thou shalt vnderstand y^t I am Rodelando, & this other is my cosin Firi­defonte. [Page] When y^e Tinacrian heard this, without tarrying for any more words, he set hand vnto his sword & said: Oh trai­tors, how your faults hath brought you to receiue y^e paiment for your treason at my hands, & now in place wher your tre­sons shal not profit you, and in saying these words he stroke Rodelando such a blow y^t he made him to fal backwards vpō the horse crouper. Then Firidefonte entered in to him on the one side, & stroke the Tinacrian such a blow vpon the helme that it made a sound as though he had stroke vpon a bell, & made him decline his head vnto his brest, but quickly he set­led himselfe againe, & lift vp his rigorous arme & stroke him such a blow vpon his shulder, y^t it made him to shrink in his bodie with the great paine he felt: at y^e time Rodelando was come vnto himselfe & setled againe, verie much troubled at y^e great valor of y^e knight, & throwing his shield vnto y^e ground he stroke the knight such a blow on the one side of his helme, y^t he made him to decline his head vpon his beasts neck, who being scarred with y^e blow, gaue a great leap from thē, which did not a little vantage the Tinacrian, for y^t Firidefonte came to discharge his blow vpon him, & by reason y^t the beast did leap on the one side, he could not execute that blow: in which time w^tout receiuing any other blow, the prince setled himself againe in his saddle, & found nigh vnto him Firidefonte, who followed to strike him, to whom he gaue such an ouerthwart blow vpon his b [...]uer, y^t with the sparkles of fire which flewe out thereof, he singed his browes & eye lids, & made him to fall backwards vpon his horse crouper without any remem­brance, & therewith Rodelando pressed vnto the Tinacrian, whereas began a great & perillous battell, this Tinacrian w^t great lightnesse entered in & out with his enimies, without receiuing any harme, & stroke them with so great furie, y^t they wist not what to doe, & it could not be chosen but y^t he must néeds receiue some harme, for y^t he dealt with two of the best knights in al Almaine. In this sort they endured two houres & he had brought these two knights into great wearinesse, & all their bodies were couered with bloud, and feeling them­selues so troubled, Firidefonte hallowed with a loude voice, [Page] At which call there came forth out of a little groue ten ar­med knights with their speres on their rests, and made their way against the Tinacrian, who séeing them comming, was nothing afraid, but pricking his great beast with the spurres he put himselfe betwixt the two cousins, which was the oc­casion that these ten Knights could not execute ther furious blowes. The Tinacrian did throw his shield at his backe, & tooke his sword fast in both his hands, and firmed himselfe in his stirrops, and stroke Feridefonte, such a blowe vppon the helme, that although it had bene of a fine Diamond, he had broken it all to peeces, for the furie of his blowe was such, that he cloue the hea [...]me and head of that furious Firidefon­te down to the breast, so that he fell downe dead to y^e ground, and hauing done this he founde himselfe compassed about with all the other knightes, vppon whom he began to strike meruailous great and furious blowes, in such sort, that in a small time he brought sixe of them to the ground, Rodelan­do hauing opportunitie, with both his handes stroke him so terrible a blow, that he made him with his beauer to touch the eares of his beast, thē all the rest laid vpon him, but they did no more harme then if they had stroke vpon an Anfield, but when the Tinacrian was come vnto himself finding Ro­delando by him, who without all pittie laide vppon him, hée tu [...]ned his sword about his head, & stroke him such a blowe vpon his left arme, his sword being gouerned by the force of his worthy hand, y^t he brake the steely armour, and cut flesh & bone with so great fury, that the head with the right shoul­der blade was deuided from the body, and he fell down dead to the ground.

Then all the rest which remained, when they sawe so great slaughter, trusting more vnto the lightnesse of theyr Horses, then vnto the strength of their armes, determined to flye. But the Knight of the Braunch perceiuing it, and ha­uing a very light beast, put himselfe betwixt them and theyr waye, saying: If you will not receiue the death, staye, and doo that which I will tell you, and I will let you goe at li­bertie: [Page 304] and they séeing y^t if they did it not with a good will, they should doo it spite of their heartes, they did strayghte waye consent, vnto whatsoeuer he would commaund, and re­turning them all, he did commaund them to take the bodies of Feridefonte and Rodelando, and to put them vppon two horses, and that from him they should carrye them vnto the Emperour, and tell him all that which he shoulde saye vnto them. So they did accomplish his commaundement, and they came vnto the Courte, at such time as the night began to appeare.

These were the two dead bodies which the Emperour sawe brought into the Court, at such time as they had little care of anye such matter: So they that brought these dead bodies, went vp into the great hall, and when they wer be­fore the Emperour, they sayde: High and mightie Empe­rour, the Knight of the Braunch doth sende vnto your high­nesse, two furious Knights, Rodelando and Fe [...]efonte, in this sorte as you doo sée them, desiring your [...]ghnesse to sende vnto him, his Ladye and his Page, and lykewise to cléere and delyuer out of prison his companion, and that fayre Clarentina, for that it is very apparaunt that she was falsely accused, as hée, and the Dukes sonne of Bauiero, doo well knowe, of whome your Highnesse maye very well cer­tefie your selfe. Likewise if there be anye Knight in all your Courte, that will stande in contention, and defende the contrarie, béeing one, or tenne, that he alone with his person will defend it. And if so be that your highnesse will not dooe this right and Iustice, he is determined to doo vnto you all the harme and damage that hée maye. And to conclude, in defence of this right, he dooth defie thy Emperiall Crowne and all thy royall estate: and the better to satisfie thy minde, he will deliuer vnto thée Candisea, for that of her thou shalt vnderstand all the whole truth of the matter, with condition that she receiue no hurt nor harme vnto her person, for that she hath repented her selfe of the fact done.

The Emperour, who was very attentiue, and hearkened [Page] vnto the Embassage sent with so great pride, was in a maze, and greatly meruailed in such sort that he could not speake, but when he came vnto himselfe, he sayd. Oh God, and what may this be, that ther is so much power and strength in this one Knight, that within my kingdome, yea, within my pal­laice, he doth these actes without feare, and with this yre hée tooke Florisarte, by the hande and entred into his chamber whereas betwixt them there was very much a doo, with hold and keepe. So when he was wel aduertised who the knight and the Lady were, he was fully determined to set at liber­tie Clarentina, and Macedonio, and to send them vnto the Knight, ioyntly with the Lady, & that Florisarte shuld beare them company, till such time as they had deliuered them vn­to the Knight, and that they shuld of his part request him to remaine in the Court, for that therewith he shoulde receiue great contentment: so according vnto the Emperours com­maundement Florisarte went, and in his company Laurenti­no, who when he saw his sister cléere of so great euill was very ioyfufull. So they stayed not in anye place, till such time as they came vnto the passage, whereas they found that inuincible knight, who when he saw them, he was right ioy­full and receiued meruailous delight, and much more when they tolde him that Clarentina was at her libertie: and whē he heard the message of the Emperour in requesting him to remaine in his Court, he surrendred vnto him great thanks for the same, and sent to request him to pardon and forgiue Candisea. There Florisarte and Laurentino did promise him on their parts to importunate the Emperour therevnto, and heerewith they tooke their leaue the one of the other, the Ti­nacrian did passe ouer the riuer, and the rest returned vnto the Citie with the knights aunswere, the which [...] vnto the Emperour, and when he saw that he [...] not tarry and remaine with him, he was very sorrowfull. Lau­rentino when he saw the Emperours sorrow sayd: High & mightie Lord, he was by vs very much perswaded, who do­eth kisse your highnesse hands, and sayd that he could not in any wise staye longer, for that he had other great matters in [Page 307] charge, which néedes must be accomplished: and doeth most heartely request your highnesse, to make reckoning of him as of your owne, wher, and in whatsoeuer your highnes wil or shall commaund him, and for a recompence of the same, he doth request your highnesse for to pardon & forgiue Can­disea all her fault & offence, for that she was blinded by loue, and againe her fault doth deserue pardon, for that she sought remedy, against that false accusation. Likewise we doo pray and desire your highnesse of our part to performe the same. The Emperour did straight graunt vnto all their request, & as the yre and wrath did loose their superioritie ouer him, he showed himselfe to be very sorrowfull, to haue lost out of his court so valiant a Knight. Then Laurentino did impor­tunate his sister for to aske license of the Emperour for to returne vnto Tirol, the which was graunted them: so they carried in their companye the Bauiero, and passing through Augusta, they came vnto Minique, whereas they remained a time with great feasts and triumphs. And when they saw that it was time to depart, they tooke their way to Espruch, a Citie of the Earledome of Tirol: and passing ouer the Alpes, they were taken prisoners by a mightie Giaunt, and twentie armed knights vpon such a sodaine, that they could not make any defence: but all their company were slaine▪ & the rest prisoners, as the two knights. Florisarte and Lauren­tino, and the Lady his sister. The Gyant and his companye tooke their way through the mountaines, towards the land of Esguizaros: but the third day of their captiuitie and impri­sonment, they sawe comming downe by the Riuers side, a knight armed with very rich armour, his stature was such, that he seemed to be a very good Knight, and in his companie he had two very faire Ladies. This Knight came all readye to the battaile, his shield in good order, and his speare in his hand, put vpon his right thigh with a very good grace and de­meanour. But before I doo tell you who this Knight is, I must first show you of all that happened vnto the Tinacri­an, after that he departed from the Emperour.

¶How the Emperour Alphebo would haue perswa­ded the Princesse Tigliafa to leaue that lamentable life, and how she refused to doo it, and went from them, & how the two Knights departed, and of all that happened vnto them in their igurney. Cap. 27.

THis valiant Tinacrian trauailed so fast ouer the Mountaines, that in a short space he left them behinde him. So likewise he did tho­rough Hungaria & Samaria, and passed tho­rough Thracia, Misia, Dardenia, and Mace­donia, and came vnto the principall parte of all Grecia vnto Constantinople. This Tinacrian chaunced vpon many aduentures in this his iourney, as recompencing of griefes, and rightening of wrongs, and setting at libertie of compulsions, as well vnto knights as vnto Ladies and Gentlewomen: but in especiall against Giaunts in bat­taile, killing and destroying. In such sorte, that the fame of the Knight of the Braunch was in all partes, and especially amongst the Knights of Grecia: insomuch, that they did not talke of any actes and déeds past of Emperours and Prin­ces, but all was of this valiant Tinacrian. Likewise y^e fame of the Purple Knight was there amongst them, which was no lesse, then that of the Tinacrian. And if it be so, that I do tell you no more of this good Tinacrian, it is not for y^e Ar­temidoro hath not declared it: but considering the great an­tiquitie of the time, it was because he y^t did write this, could not read it, therfore he doth declare that which he could read. This Historie sayth, that when this Tinacrian came with­in a mile of Constantinople, the night came vppon them, & he did determine to passe it away in a thicke Orcharde that was there nigh the high waye, and hanged his shielde vppon the bough of a tree: and by reason of the wearinesse of his iourney, he slept as one that was without all care. The La­dy put her selfe farther into the orchard, and in this sort, they [Page] passed away the night, till the morning came. At which time there chaunced an aduenture, which for to declare in order, I must returne vnto the Knight of the Sunne, whereas wee lefte him, and as you haue hearde, he was beholding the ceremonies of the Princes Tigliafa, which she vsed ouer the body of Zoylo, vpon her knées with a sorrowfull lamentati­on. The Knight of the Sunne the better to vnderstand what she sayd, pulled off his helme, and then he heard that she said as followeth.

I doo not know wherfore I doo loose so much time in this sorrowfull lamentation, for that it is not sufficient for to de­liuer me from the sorrow and griefe, which continuallye I am afflicted with. Uery heauie I am for thée my Zoylo, & being without thy company, I knewe not how I liue. It were better for me at once to ende my sorrow, procuring w^t my owne hands, to goe and beare thée company. Oh sorrow­full Lady, how dost thou liue without thy welbeloued? How dost thou sustaine thy self, without thy life? That day in the which thou didst lose him, that daye it had happened well vn­to thee, if thou hadst lost thine owne life: but in the end wil come an end, that thou shalt goe to séeke him, in giuing thy selfe cruell death.

And with this she made an ende of her lamentation, for that lifting vp her eyes, she saw how the two knights were very attentiue vnto that which she said. And giuing a terri­ble and grieuous sigh, she arose vp in great hast, and entered into the chamber whereas she came foorth, and with greate wrath she shut the doore, making within the chamber, mer­uailous lamentations. The Emperour Alphebo went the­ther, to see if he coulde open the doore, but he found it verye fast shut, as one who had the Fortresse made by the wise Lyrgandeo and so likewise did he bring that monster for to keepe her, that she might be troubled of no body. The Em­perour Alphebo séeing that his calling was in vaine, de­parted and went out w^t his company, and mounting vppon theyr Beastes they did prosecute theyr iourney. So all the rest of the daye almost they trauayled in the same Forrest, [Page] And when it was towards night, they founde themselues in the broad and beaten way of Pyreo, which went vnto Con­stantinople, of the which they were very ioyfull: and he did determine to goe vnto the Emperour his father for to kisse his hands, and so they directed their waye vnto Constanti­nople. They had not ridden long, when that they hearde a great noyse of hunters which followed their game, and they came towards the place where as they wer, for that the night drew on: and they vnderstood by some of the huntsmen, that the Emperour was in that hunt, who for his recreation at that time came forth, and had in his company the Empresse, and the faire Oliuia, who was very sorrowful for the absence of Rosicleer. When the Emperour Alphebo knew that they were there, he went vnto their tents, and there did not lack them which did aduertise the Emperour and the Empresse, who with much ioye went out to receiue him, as he would haue entred. And when Alphebo was before her, he fel down vpon his knées: then the Empresse with teares of great ioy did imbrace him, and spake words of maternall loue. Then was he receiued of the faire Oliuia, and of all the Princes & Ladyes that were there. Likewise they receiued and gaue great intertainment vnto the King of Sardenia, for that hée was welbeloued of them al, from the time that he made bat­taile with the Giant in the Emperiall Pallaice. And being in this pleasure the Emperour came with as much spéede as he could, and there beganne a newe the welcomming of Al­phebo and the king, with so much ioye and pleasure vnto al, that I cannot expresse it. So there they passed that night till the morning, and when all things was put in order, they heard diuine seruice, and went to breakfast, with pretence to retourne againe vnto their hunting. So when they were a taking vp of the tables, they heard a great rumour of Ser­uaunts, and of the running and coursing of horses. The Em­perour Alphebo arose from the Table, and putting on his helme, he went out of the Tent, whereas he found in a rea­dinesse his horse, and with great lightnesse he mounted on him, and rode towards the place from whence y^e noyse came, [Page 309] and vpon a sodaine he sawe come riding two knightes, and after them followed one knight of a meruailous disposition, with Purple armour all to be spotted with starres of golde, likewise his shéeld was purple, vpon the which was put for the deuice a knight who séemed to haue the same deuice, his eyes shut by reason that certaine Sunne beames did strike on them, the which séemed to procéede out of the face of ano­ther knight. This Purple knight brought his sword in his hand all naked, in manner as though he would strike y^e other two which ranne awaie. The Emperour Alfebo did repre­hend the two knights for their running awaie, and put him­selfe before them. At this instant we must leaue the Empe­rour and his knights, for to returne vnto the Pastor Clari­diano, whom we left with his swéete musicke, and his Lute in his hand, compassed round about with a companie of shep­heards, hauing her before him, whose beautie did make him to disguise himselfe in that base apparell, and she was set vp­pon the gréene grasse, whereas she might with good attenti­on heare the delicate swéetnesse of this new shepheards mu­sicke. Also all the rest of the shepheards had no small admi­ration as well therat, as at the sweet melodie he vsed in sing­ing, and at sundrie-times he sent forth déepe sighs, so that it made all the shepheards hearts to melt, and the verie birdes which did flie in the forrest did staye & were astonied at his swéete musicke. So when he was wearie of playing & sing­ing, the amorous sight of the Pastora did graunt him no far­ther lisence, but that with a fewe teares he cast downe his humbled eies, and began to wring his hands. The Pastora did very much behold him, & it séemed vnto her that in all her life she had not séene so much fairenesse in a man imagining with her selfe that he was some worthie knight. So straight way she tooke Galismena by the hand, and arose vp from the place whereas she was set, and did [...]ooke vpon the shepheard, giuing him to vnderstand, that her sight shoulde be vnto him more at commaundement, then to all the rest of y^e shepheards there a long the riuer, and with great maiestie she turned her back, as though she had perfectly known whose daughter she [Page] had bene, leauing all them in a greate confusion at the first, who did separate themselues euerie one to his waie, for whē they sawe that they could haue no longer sight of that fayre Pastora, [...]hey all departed, and none remained but Filepensio, Coridon, and Alphesiuio. This Filepensio was brought in­to that perplexitie, (that although he had the vauntage of all the campanie in brauery & stomacke) yet he coulde not per­swade himselfe to the contrarie, but he waxed so leane and féeble, in such sort, that it appeared in his face his great afflic­tion. Coridon which did well perceiue his griefe, & wringing both his hands, he said: Ah faire and gentle shepheard, very apparant thou dost giue to vnderstand thy sorrow and griefe, and likewise by my sonets thou doost vnderstand my paine. This is the Pastora that hath all these valleyes full of the a­morous fire of loue, and looke in how so much Nature hath indued her with beautie and fairenesse: euen so great a ma­iestie hath she accompanied with her crueltie, that there is no shepheard that can suffer it. This is the Pastora for whom the name of this flowred fielde is lost, whether as all Shep­heards doth resort to kéepe and féede their shéepe, but once ha­uing a sight of her, then all their care is lost, their shéepe go­eth a straie, and they giue place vnto cruell loue to enter into their heartes, and there he doth satisfie his cruell appetite, in such sort, that all their delight is to paint and set forth their a­morous songs, beléeuing thereby to abate the crueltie of her stonie heart, and yet there is no more shew of remorse, then is in the hard rocke beaten with a mightie storme of haile.

Ah Filepensio, I sée nowe that thou art a new louer, and yet by beholding thée thou séemest to bée an olde louer. This new shepheard would haue made him answere, but he was cut off by a heauie noise which he heard amongest the trées, which seemed to be of the Pastora, and crying out with more vehemencie, he heard that it were shrikes of the Pastora, and Galismena, which being heard by the shepheards, with great alteration they ranne that waie whereas the noise was, & by reason that in lightnesse and loue this new shepheard did ex­céede all the rest, he was the first that came vnto the place, and [Page 310] sawe that there was a Gyant, and with him a well propor­tioned knight, who had fast hold of the Pastora, and with the point of his sword pricked the hands of Galismena to make her let goe her holde, for that she imbraced the Pastora in her armes with great strength. At that time came Filepensio, and with a greate noise he said.

Thou vile knight and false traitour, I charge thée stand still, and not laie hands vpon the delicate Pastora, and taking his shepheardes crooke in his hande, which was both knottie and hard, with the same hardinesse as though he had bene armed with complet armour, he pressed towards them. The knight with great anger for that which the shephearde had sayde, drew out his sword, pretending with one blow to returne those words of the shepheard, but he that knewe ve­rie well how to vse himselfe, stepped on the one side & made him to strike his blow in vaine, at which time the shepheard entered in to him by the one side, and stroke him so terrible a blowe with his crooke vpon the left shoulder, that he ouer­threw him to the ground without anie remembraunce. The Gyant being greatly amazed at the power of the shepheard, beléeuing that the knight had ben slaine, with a great shrike let goe the Pastora, and set spurres vnto his horse, thinking to ouerrun him, but it chaunced not with him as he thought, for that the shepheard was not idle, but hadde recouered the sword of the ouerthrowen knight, and hauing it in his hand with great discreation he did a part himselfe from the furye of the horse, and in passing by stroke him on the hinder legs with so great strength that he cut them both a sunder, and he fell downe with his master to the ground, but in such sorte, that the Gyaunt might well cléere himselfe from his horse without receiuing anie harme at all, and béeing on foote he presentlye layde hande vppon his greate and broade Fau­chon, and beeing voyde of all patience, with a diuellish fu­rie he discharged his blowe at the vnarmed head of File­pensio, but the Shephearde did not determine with himselfe for to abide the comming of that vnmeasurable blowe, but [Page] with great lightnesse he put himselfe on the one side, so that he stroke his blowe in vaine, and because his Pastora should sée the great strength and force of his armes, hée tooke the sworde fast in his hande and firmed himselfe on the ground and stroke the Gyaunt on the wast on his left side, that al­though his armour had béene made of harde and fine Dia­monds, it had not béene able to haue made resistance against the furie of that great and mightie blowe, which was in such sorte, that the Gyaunt was cut a sunder in the middest, so that the one halfe fell on the one side and the other on the other side. All the Shepheards that were there present were verie much amazed, and lykewise the Pastoras, to sée howe the newe shephearde at two blowes had ouerthrowen two such knightes as they were. The Pastora when shée sawe her selfe cléere from that perill, went vnto Filipensio for to imbrace him, and with amorous wordes she said. What re­ward can I [...]oore Pastora giue, for to make satisfaction and gratifie the great good which at this present you haue done mée: surely I haue no other thing but to put my selfe into your handes, that with mée you may doe your pleasure, ha­uing a respect vnto my honour. Oh happie Pastora, that hath deserued by thy beautie that such a shepheard shoulde yéelde himselfe vnto thée. Who could declare the great contentment that Filipensio receiued when he sawe himselfe embraced with the thing that in all the world he best loued, and with that contentment he sayd.

Oh Goddesse of all beautie and fairenesse, wherewith can I gratifie the God Pan, for the great force and strength which he gaue mée at this present? What sacrifice can I make, to paie this benefite and ioye that I doe féele, in hauing this my shepheards bodie imbraced and compassed about, with these delicate armes. This great force and strength I maye attribute vnto you my swéete Pastora, for that by your fayre sight my small strength did the more augment, which was the occasion that I deserue so greate fauour. Fayre Pastora, I desire no other thing of you, but onely to accept this which I haue done in part of a recompence of the great [Page 311] seruice which this shepheard doth desire to doe vnto me. At this time the knight that was without remembraunce was come vnto himselfe againe, & put himselfe on foote, the which when Filepensio sawe, he ceased his communication, & ranne vnto him with a wrathfull furie, and before that he coulde well settle himselfe, he laide holde vppon his healme with so great strength, that he pulled it from his head, breaking all the buckles and lacings, and when they saw the knight with­out his healme, he was knowen of all the shepheards to bée the shepheard called Tarsides. Then Alphesiuio went vnto Filepensio, and requested that he would mittigate his ire, the which this new shepheard did at his request, leauing to exe­cute a terrible blow which he had all aloft for to strike him. What shall I saye vnto you of this Knight, when hée sawe himselfe ouercome of one alone shepheard, beléeuing y^t twen­tie Knightes had not bene able to haue done it, but looking a­bout to see where his companion was, and sawe him deade with so terrible a blow, he could not but with great sorrowe saie: Oh ye Gods come downe all together and doe obedy­ence vnto this Pastora, for that she doth better deserue it then all you, whose beautie hath so much force, that it incouraged one shepheard to doe that which a thousand knightes durst not haue giuen the enterprise off. Oh God Pan howe hath thy power extended this daie farre beyond the power of all other Gods, that thou diddest permit thus to be slaine so mightie a king. Ah Cayserlinga, no Pastora, but a Goddesse, that onely doest not bring in subiection the shepheardes, but also the high and mightie kings. Thou shalt vnderstande Pastora, that amongest them which doth beare thee companie is the Prince of Britania in disguised apparayle, and I am that vnhappie prince of Polismago, and he most vnfortunate whome this shepheard hath slaine, was the King of Sily­cia, agaynst whome the Gods hath shewed themselues con­trarie. All this he sayde with great teares which came from his heart, accompanied with terrible sighes. The Pastora without anie shewe of pittie she hadde of that Knight, arose from the place whereas she was, and with a gracious [Page] countenance she cast her eyes vpon Filipensio, she went vnto her shéep, and in her companie the Pastora Galismena & Co­ridon, and Filipensio and Alphesiuio remained with the sor­rowfull Prince, comforting him with many good perswasi­ons, but all did profit little, for that without saying any word with a terrible sigh he arose vp, and tooke his horse & put him­selfe in amongst the thickest of the trées, with pretence to doo that which in the next chapter shall be tolde you.

¶How the Prince of Polismago returned and tooke prisoner the Pastora Cayserlynga, and how that Fi­lipensio followed after him till such time as hee tooke her out of his power. Cap. 28.

AFter the departure of the Prince, the thrée shepheards remained vnder those high Pine trées, till such time as the darke night came vpon them, and there did determine to passe the night awaie with musicke and amorous songs, and in this conuersation Filipensio re­ceiued great pleasure, but they heard vpon a sodaine a greate noise, which seemed to be of a woman, and likewise a rumor of the running of horses. These shepheards spéedely arose vp and went to sée what it was, and they found Galismena who cryed out vnto the Gods, and when she sawe Filipensio shée sayd: Ah good shepheard minne and giue succour, for that the Pastora is carried awaie prisoner by the Prince of Polisma­go against her will. O that I were able to signifie vnto you héere y^e great anger of Filepensio, it was so much that almost he was beside himselfe, but when Galismena saw him in that traunce, she called vnto him with a loude voice and said: Ah gentle shepheard is it now time to lack courage, dost thou not sée the great perill which may happen vnto Cayserlinga, and all by thy detracting of time. These high words was the oc­casion that the shepheard came vnto himselfe againe, & lyke vnto an arrow out of a bow he followed the way after them, till such time as he came into a broad high waie, whereas he [Page 312] did discouer the new foot steps of his horse, by which he knew that he was rode that waie, and with great lightnesse he did prosecute his iourney, til such time as he came to Ierosolima, and when he sawe the small remedie that he had to goe for­wards, for that he was on foote, he determined to enter into the citie, and looked backe to sée if anie of the shepheardes did follow him, and he sawe none but Coridon that did followe him, and tarrying for him he sayd: Ah shepheard what shall we doe without our delight, follow me if it be thy pleasure, and let vs procure to restore againe our losse, which is our Pastora. For héere I doe sweare vnto thée by the Omnipo­tent Iupiter, neuer to retourne vnto the riuer of Euphrates, without the faire Pastora, and without anie more tarrying they entered into Ierosolima, not staying till they came vnto the Pallaice, and the first that he met with was with Fide­lio, whom he commaunded to goe and declare vnto the Prin­cesse of his comming, who did verie much meruaile when that Fidelio did tell her, for that he returned in so short time, and she went out of her chamber and did receiue him with great ioye and pleasure, saying: What quicke returne is this that you haue made, valiant and excellent knight: Uerie hea­uie and sorrowfull sayd the Prince, for that good Ladie you shall vnderstand, my Pastora is robbed and carried awaye from me, and I am not able to make anie defence. And being cut off by the great abundaunce of teares that procéeded from his dolorous heart, he coulde not speake a worde more. And without anie tarrieng he depriued himselfe of his shepheards apparell, and put on his owne garments, and with a trice hée was armed, and returning vnto Coridon he sayd: Friende Coridon this is mine accustomed wearing, for that which hetherto thou hast séene me weare, was lent me, y^t I might the better reioyce my selfe with the sight of my loue, & nowe séeing that fortune hath frowned on me, héere I sweare vnto thée not to take anie rest til such time as I set her at libertie. The shepheard merua [...]ed to sée y^• which he did sée, and sayd vnto the knight: Ah Filipensio how doest thou pretende to leaue the bodie without a soule, doest thou not beléeue that [Page] Coridon can remaine aliue onely with his bodie, for that my soule is absented and gone after my Pastora. With manye teares the shepheard said these words. The Prince séeing that the detracting of time was perillous, tooke his leaue of the Princesse, and found his horse in a readinesse, and with great lightnesse he mounted vpon him, so likewise his Squire and Coridon mounted vpon verie good horses, which y^e Princesse commaunded to be giuen them, & with great hast they depar­ted out of the citie, and tooke their iourney into a broad high waie, and at such time as the Sun had couered all the earth, they met with a labouring man who was comming from his accustomed worke in the field, of whom thy asked newes of their Pastora, but he could tell them none, but he sayd, that a­bout midnight he hearde certaine lamentations made by a woman, but he knew not the occasion wherefore. So straight way he thought what it might be, which was the occasion that they made the more hast in trauailing, with great feare least they should loose her: So all that daie they trauayled, and rode through Damasco, and left the riuer of Euphrates, this knight trauailed with great sorrow for the small newes that he heard of his Pastora, and the anger was verie great of the Prince, for that he was so carelesse, in such sorte, that neither Coridon nor Fidelio durst speake a worde vnto him, and diuerse times lifting vp his eyes vnto heauen, with an heauie voice he said: Oh high and mightie God Iupiter, how is it possible that I hauing done my duetie vnto thy Deitie in all respects, and almost vsing a quotidian sacrifice, thou do­est yet suffer thy power to bée contrarie vnto me in this, giue me now some light to happe on that waie by which that traitour and disloyall knight doth carrie the Goddesse of all shepheardes, that I maye deliuer her, that shee be not scorned nor ill intreated of that false knight: Oh Diana, chast God­desse, hide thy breast, and send some kéeper of thine to defende her, let that reuenger Camilia be her garde, and with her Bowe send a sharpe arrowe to passe through the heart of him that doth all this euill. In this sorte with greate anger the Prince trauailed, and the thirde daie of his iourney, some­what [Page] early in the morning he sawe vppon a rocke a verie faire and great castell which séemed to be verie strong. The Prince determined to goe thether, he had not trauailed long when he came into another greate and broade waie, in the which there was a man which came towardes them, & when he drew nigh, they asked of him if he coulde tell anie newes of the Pastora. The man lift vp his eies and séeing the propor­tion of him that demaunded the question, he saide: For thy profit sir knight, for that thou séemest vnto me to be of esti­mation, I will not tell thée thy demaund. The valiant knight with more humilitie then his passionate heart would abide, desired him to giue him to vnderstand if he knew anie thing of her. The man said: Sir knight, I knowe not wherefore you will know of that thing, that by séeking of remedie for her deliuerie, will procure thy selfe death. Notwithstanding séeing that with so great courtesie you doe request me, I will tell you, although it were better for you not to knowe it, ne­uerthelesse you shall vnderstande that yesternight a knight brought her vnto yonder Castell which you sée before you, & put her vnder so strong kéeping, that there is no power able to deliuer her, except the power of the high Gods. The con­tentment was great that the Prince receiued when he heard newes of her, the which he so much desired, and giuing great thankes vnto the man, he went towards the Castle, & when he came thether, he found the drawe bridge downe, and the gate open, and no gard there to kéepe it. And without all feare, he entered in at the gate, and left Coridon and Fidelio without. And being within, he came into a very great and broad Court, the which was paued with very faire and wel wrought stones, and the walls were full of windowes with yron grates very faire, but he saw no body: and discouering a broad and well made paire of staires, he alighted from his horse, and went vp, and being halfe waye vp, ther was a dore open, and looking in thereat, he sawe it was a greate Hall, and that verye darke, sauing at the farther ende thereof, there was a little louer hole, which gaue a small light, wher by he perceiued a little dore, which séemed to be at the foote [Page] of a payre of winding staires, at which dore the knight en­tered and went vp the staires. And when he came aloft, hée entred into very great and broad chambers all furnished w^t beds, and it séemed to be a place for the houshold seruaunts, and going from thence he entred into a very faire hall, in the which was a well wrought windowe, and looking out ther­at he sawe that it was ouer the gate of that ill kept Castle, by which he entered, and looking for Coridon and Fidelio, he could not sée them, but beléeued that they had put themselues apart in some place because they would not be séene. Then this valiant knight looking downe againe to the gate, sawe a mightie great Gyant of a huge stature, who called with a great loude voice and sayde: Runne quickly and séeke out that bolde knight, who without anie lisence entered into the Castell, and put him into the most cruellest prison in all the house. These wordes caused little feare in the knight, but rather going from the windowe he went out of the hall, where was a payre of stayres, and as he beganne to descend downe by them, he sawe comming vp thereat in great hast fiue armed knightes, and after them eight clownes, who sé­ing him to be the knight they sought, with theyr swordes drawne verie rigorously they did assault him. This valyant warriour drew out his sword, and stroke two of them two such terrible blowes, y^t he made their heads to tumble downe the stayres, and in the fall of them they chaunced to hit two of the clownes, that they made them to fall backwards vpon the stayres, but his furie stayed not in this, but he stroke ano­ther knight such a blowe, that he ouerthrewe him deade the same waye, the other two knightes which remained séeing that slaughter so quickly done, they put themselues the one on the one side of the stayres, and the other on the other, and hauing theyr shéeldes before them they layde on the Knight with great and thicke blowes, but by reason of the desire which the knight had to sée his Pastora, and being very much troubled therewith, hée determined with spéede to cléere him­selfe of those two knightes, and therewith he stroke at each [Page] of them a mightie blow and sent them with the rest downe the stayres, the like did he vnto foure of the clownes that were so hardie as to assault him, the other with a great noise ranne downe the stayres, this valyant knight hasted downe the stayres after them till he came into a great court, where­as he found the Gyant vnarmed, with a shéelde on his arme, and a great broade fauchen in his hande. The knight made shew vnto him that he woulde not fight nor strike him, but put his sworde vp into his sheath, and said: Holde thy hand Gyaunt and strike not, but put on thy armour for to make thy defence, for this vnderstande of a truth, that I will not drawe out my sword so long as thou art vnarmed. The Gi­aunt when he sawe howe lyttle hée did estéeme him, stoode still and did beholde him, and noted the greate riches of his armour, and by the deuice of his shéelde he knewe him to be the knight that wonne the prise and honour in the iustes at Nabatea, for you shall vnderstande that all these Gyauntes were of the kingdome of Cilicia, and the king thereof if you remember was the first with whome the knight did iust, which in that triumph was ouerthrowen, when that to re­uenge that quarrell came forth a brother of his, who by the strength of the arme of this knight was slaine, and the Gy­aunt which he slewe by the riuer of Euphrates was the king of Cilicia himselfe (the occasion of his comming and who all the rest were shall more at large appeare in the processe of the historie.) When the Gyaunt knewe him, with a di­uellish countenaunce he sayde: Tell me knight, by fortune art thou that famous warriour, who in the iustes of Naba­tea (as hath béene tolde me) carried awaye all the honour and praise, and ouerthrewe the king of Cilicia, to whome the Gods did shew themselues enimies, and the same which like­wise slew his brother, if there be anie curtesie in thée I desire thée to tell me.

This valiant Prince aunswered and said: I do not know to what end thou doest aske it of me, but let it be for what it shall be, thou shalt vnderstand that I am the same that thou [Page] didst speake off. And for that thou shalt be the better certe­fied of this, thou shalt vnderstand that I am he, who in shep­heards apparaile, onely with my shepheardes crooke, at one blow brought that traitor the Prince of Polismago to the ground without remembraunce, and likewise with another blow with the sword of the said Prince, I slew the King of Cilicia: and am the same who will doo the like with thée, if thou dost not deliuer vnto me that faire Pastora, who was brought hether by force, by that naughtie Prince of Polis­mago. The Giant was very sorrowfull for that which hée heard, and showed by his countenaunce to be very wrathful. At that time there descended downe the staires another Gi­ant, who with a furious voyce sayd vnto the first Gyaunt: Brother put thy selfe apart on the one side, and let mée take reuengement of this vile Knight, that is before thée: & with­out speaking any more words, he lift vp his great and hea­uie fawchon, and stroke a mightie blow at the Knight, but this pollitike Knight stepped with great lightnesse on y^e one side, which was the occasion that his blow fell downe vppon y^e pauement in vain: this terrible blow was no sooner down, when the Knight closed with him, and stroke him with his sword so mightie a blow vpon the right arme, that he cut it cleane a sunder, and it fell downe to the ground, sword and al. The Giant when he saw himselfe so wounded, gaue a ter­rible shrike, and threw his shield from him, and would haue taken the sword in his other hand: but the Prince woulde not suffer it, but stroke him another blow on the same arme, and euen as he did by the other, he cut it a sunder by the el­bow: so that he was lame of both his armes. Yet for all this, the giant did not loose his furie, but roaring like a Lion, he opened the stumpes of his armes which did remain, thin­king with them to imbrace the Knight, and by his greate force to ouerthrowe him. As he he laboured to enter in, the Knight put the poynt of his sword before him, in such sorte, that what with the strength and furie of the Giant, and the force that he put therevnto, the sword passed through his bo­dy, that he fell downe dead to the ground.

[Page]At this time, there descended downe the staires in great hast a Knight of a mightie proportion, whom Claridiano knew to be the Prince of Polismago. This Gréek Knight receiued great delyght at the sight of him. Then the Prince of Po­lismago said: Thou peruerse dogge, come and take reuenge­me, for the griefe and wrong which thou doost publish héere to haue receiued: for I am the Prince whom thou dost seeke for: and in saying these words, he did assault him with ter­rible blowes. Then Claridiano did returne vnto him y^e like, but not in so terrible a sort as he might, for the great com­passion that he had of him, considering that the pangs of loue cause a man to doe that sometimes, which afterward he do­eth repent himselfe off. So héere betwixt them began a migh­tie and well foughten battaile, the one striking the other, on all parts, great and terrible blowes. In this sort they indu­red a while without knowing any aduauauntage betwixte them, the occasion was, for that the Gréeke woulde not vse the rigor of all his strength. And béeing in this controuer­sie, the Gréeke lifte vp his eyes, and sawe at a windowe the faire Pastora, who was beholding them in their battaile: at which sight he receiued so great plesure and delyght, that the strength of his armes did faile him, and he had no more po­wer to lifte them vp. When the Pagan saw that, he did as­sault him with more courage: the Gréeke had no power, but onely to beare off the blowes, and recoyled till such time as he came right vnder the window: which made the Pagan to thinke that he was ouercome, and that he had got the vic­torie. At that time the other Giant was very well armed, & went vnto the Pastora, and tooke her by the haire of y^e head, and pulled her from the window, and sayd: Apart thy selfe from that place, thou which art the cause of all this euill, for that thou shalt not content thy selfe in séeing him, who do­eth procure thy libertie, although it be impossible: and I do sweare vnto thée by my Gods, that the great damage which thy nicenesse hath caused, thy head shall paye for. Oh howe wrathfull this Gréeke was, when he saw the Giant intreat her so euill, for a giuing a terrible shrike he lift vp his right [Page] arme with his sworde, and stroke at the Pagan so mightie a blowe vpon his healme (so that if it had not bene inchaun­ted) he had cut it in two péeces, and put the head in great pe­rill, but yet he escaped not but he sell downe to the grounde without anie remembraunce, and there ranne out of his mouth great abundance of bloud. When Claridiano sawe him in this plight, he made no more reckoning of him, but with a furyous hast he went to goe vp the stayres, at such time as y^e Gyant came downe with great violence, but when the sonne of Gran Alfebo sawe him he returned and did a­bide his comming in the court, and sayd: Make an end thou great beast, and descend downe that I may giue thée thy pai­ment for thy boldnesse which thou hast vsed against the god­desse of Pastoras. The Gyant with the great furie which he had vnderstood not what the knight had sayde, and therefore he made him no aunswere, and if that he woulde haue done it, yet his great wrath woulde not consent vnto it, but with his Fauchon all aloft he went towards the Gréeke, assalting him with mortall battaile. The like did this strong knight, making betwixt them a terrible battaile, and striking the one the other where they thought to do most hurt. Who had then seene the great lightnesse of the Gréeke in besturring himselfe, would haue well iudged that the worst part should not be his, for that he so handled his enimie in breaking of his harnesse in many places, and wounding him, in such sort, that he was all to be bathed in bloud, yet for all that the great anger which he had, neither the rigorous battaile could cause him to withdrawe the casting vp of his eyes vnto the place whereas he saw his welbeloued Pastora, and he beheld her making her greate lamentation for that which the Gy­ant had done vnto her, which was the occasion that he had a greater desire to giue him (who was the occasion of her teares) his payment. At this time the Prince Polismago was come againe vnto himselfe, and arose vppon his feete, and sawe the cruell battaile which was betwéene the Gyant and the Knight, and howe that the knight almost ouercome the Gyant, he did determine to forget that which he was bound [Page] vnto béeing a Prince, and recouering his sword which hung by the wrist band, he went and ioyned with the Gyaunt, so that both of them together did assalt him, which did nothing grieue the Gyaunt for that he was somewhat wearie. The villanie which he sawe them vse did increase his wrath, and double his strength in such sorte, that it fell out worse for them being both together then before, for that the vilenesse of their assaulting made him to double his blowes, striking now mightely at the one, and then as terribly on the other, with very great power & strength, procuring to indamage thē And for that he dealt with two such valiant knights, it stood him in hand to vse all kinde of pollicie: but yet he could not so at libertie defend himselfe, but that the giant watched his time, and stroke him so furious a blow vpon his steely helm, that he made him to boow with both his knées to the ground The Prince of Polismago seeing him at that poynt, doubled his blowes vpon him very terribly: but in spite of them, he arose vp againe with more fury then a baighted bull, & with his sword fast in his hand, he pressed to the Giant, & stroke him so mortall a blow vpon his shoulder, that he cloue him downe to the waste, cutting harnesse and bones, and with great facilitie ouerthrewe him dead to the ground. He had not so soone giuen that wonderfull blowe, but he retourned another at the Pagan, vppon his inchaunted healme, that he made it sounde lyke vnto a Bell. The which blowe was so mightie that it ouerthrew him downe to the ground, throwing out at his Beauer verye great aboundaunce of bloud

Who coulde héere declare the greate ioye which the Pa­stora receiued when she sawe her enimies in that plight, I I cannot iudge which had the greater ioye, the knight in that he had set her at libertie, or the Pastora so sée her selfe at libertie. So when the knight sawe the Pagan on the ground without remembraunce, he made no more tarrying, but went vp the staires, and stayed not till he came where­as the Pastora was. And when he sawe her, he fell [Page] downe vpon his knées, and lift vp his beuer, which was the occasion that the Pastora did know him, and not suffering him to speake, with an excellent grace she sayd. Ah Filipensio how much am I bound vnto the Gods, that haue deliuered me from two so great daungers, and set me at libertie from the troubles thereof. Where hast thou lefte thy shepheards apparaile? Who hath chaunged them, for this faire & strong armour, where hast thou lefte thy shepheards crooke. Ah Fili­pensio, giue me to vnderstand of thy high estate, y^t my small vnderstanding be not the occasion that I fall in some errour. The valyant Knight being subiect to her beautie, saide vnto her: I am yours faire Pastora, whether I be a shepheard or a Knight, your beautie hath brought me in subection, and it is great glory vnto me to be yéelded vnto you.

Then the faire Pastora at these wordes tooke him faste by both the hands, and not giuing him place to any more re­soning, she sayd. I will now sée, whether you are as valyant in déeds as in words, séeing that fortune hath brought vs he­ther: and héere I doo aske of thée two things to be graun­ted vnto me, and it is the first that euer I asked of any per­son in all the world. The amorous Prince aunswered. Ah my swéete Mistresse, is it possible that I haue deserued to re­ceiue at your hands so much fauour, in that you doo aske of me any thing, wherin I may or can doo you seruice, & know­ing that I am yours, you néede not to aske but commaunde me as your owne, for that I am bound to whatsoeuer you will. The faire Pastora sayd. Wel gentle knight, séeing that thou dost shew thy selfe to be so subiect and bound to do me pleasure, the first thing that I doo request thée to graunt me, is, that thou cary me vnto Grecia vnto the Emperors court, and there for the space of one moneth to make my defence, & affirme, that my beautie doeth surmount all others in the world. Now maist thou goe and set at libertie Coridon and thy seruaunt, who are both in prison. The Gréeke had great contentment of that which the Pastora did aske of him: and for to performe that which she had commaunded, he went & sought throughout all the Castle, to sée if he could finde anye [Page 317] that could giue anie knowledge where his companie was, & cōming vnto a doore he heard a great noise of much people, y^e Prince knocked at the doore and bad them open it, & promi­sed to doe them no harme if they would open the doore. So straight way it was open, whereas he demaunded for Cori­don and his Squire, they were straight waye brought vnto him by one of them which opened the doore, and in the meane time it was tolde him who the Gyants were, you shall vn­derstand that they were nephewes vnto the king of Cilicia, and vnto the Prince of Polismago, who being in loue with the Pastora, and being of her cast off, he went and told it vn­to the king of Cilicia, then they consented together to doe all that you haue heard, and had gone through with their intent if it had not bene for the valour of the Prince Claridiano. So when Coridon came before the Pastora he could not refrain from wéeping, with the great ioy which he receiued at y^e sight of her, and the Pastora was no lesse ioyfull. Then Claridiano remembred the Prince Polismago, & commaunded Fidelio to sée whether he were aliue or dead, who went, and when hée came vnto him, he pulled off his helme and saw that he was dead, for the which it greatly gréeued the knight, but y^e feare was so great of Cayserlinga for remaining in the castle, that she made great hast to the Prince to depart from thence. The which he was constrained to do for to giue her contentment, and commaunded to make readie their horses and likewise a palfray which they found in the castell. So the next day in y^e morning they tooke their way towards Grecia, passing tho­rough all the kingdome of Media, and the kingdome of Pri­sopoli, and all the way that he trauailed he left behinde great fame of wonderful aduentures which happened. They trauai­led in a skirt of Armenia, whereas chaunced vnto him that which in the next chapter shall be told you.

¶How Claridiano by chance had battaile with his owne father, which being knowen vnto Galtenor, and fearing the great harme that would come thereof, hee remedied the same. Chap. 29.

[Page] BY a Mountaine of Armenia verie much in­habited, this warrelike knight trauailed in companie with his faire Pastora, with so great delight and pleasure, that I cannot héere signifie it vnto you, and with Coridon they had good pastime, for that he was verie pleasant, who againe séeing that he might so at quiet and fa­miliarly talke with the Pastora, was almost in an extasie for ioye. So the second day that they trauailed by that moun­taine, by reason that it was so fragrant, they lost their waie, in such sort, that when they remembred themselues, they wer entered into the thickest of the wildernesse, and procured to finde the waie againe, which by no meanes they coulde, for that they were so farre entered into the thicket. So with great trouble they trauailed till mid daie, at which time they heard a noise of the running of water, the which they follow­ed, & it was the occasion y^t they brought themselues out of y^e thick wood, and came into a mightie great plaine, through the midst of the which there passed a déepe riuer. There they loo­ked about them to sée if they coulde discouer any towne, vil­lage, or dwelling places, but they could sée no other thing but high and mightie Pine trées, the which gréeued much the Pa­stora, & much more the Gréeke, for that the Pastora should be so sorrowfull, & againe, for that they had no victualls to com­fort her. So they staied a while not knowing which way they might take to bring themselues out of y^e distresse, but vppon a sodaine they espied towards their right hande a man who trauailed a foot, being somwhat farre off from them, that they could not discerne what he should be. So in greate hast they went towards him, and comming nigh him, they sawe that it was an olde man, who had his head and beard very white, by reason of his great age, and the better for to trauaile, hée hadde a staffe whereon he might leaue, shewing that he tra­uailed with greate paine, in that he mooued himselfe so hea­uily. Then came vnto the Princes remembraunce the que­stion that the furious beast did aske him in the inchanted ca­stle of the king of Arabia. So when they came vnto the olde [Page] man, they saluted him, the olde man returned their salutation with a faint and wearie voice. The Prince asked him what aduenture had brought him into that solitarie place. This olde man for to make him answere, was constrained to sit downe vpon the ground and sayd: Gentle knight, I knowe not what to saie, nor what I shall tell you, but onely my de­stinie hath brought me into this misfortune, being mocked w^t great falsehood by a Page y^t I brought with me, who left me all alone and on foote in this solitarie wildernesse. These two daies haue I not eaten any thing, but onely dronke of y^e wa­ter of Euphrates, with the which I haue borne out my hun­ger, the head of which riuer is not far from hence. And héere I doe desire thée gentle knight, if thou hast anie pittie of this my wearie age, for to succour me, in carrying me vpon thy horse, or vpon the horse of anie of thy seruants. The Prince taking great pittie on the olde man, sayd: Feare not good Fa­ther of this thy misfortune, for séeing y^e fortune hath brought vs hether, I will not leaue thée alone in this solitarye place. The Prince leaped from his horse and tooke the olde man in his armes, and put him in the saddle, and helped to settle him well, that by reason of his weaknesse he might not fal, & that he being well set he himselfe might y^e better without all feare leap vp behind him. This false olde man séeing himselfe ma­ster of the horse, stroke him with his héeles, in so great hast, y^t he made the horse to flie: Oh how the knight was amazed at this act, although he beleeued that he did it to make him go a little on foote, but when he sawe that his mocking proceeded forwards on, he returned that waie which his Squire came, calling out vnto him to bring his horse on the which he tra­uailed, who in great hast accomplished his demaund. When the knight was on horsebacke, he began to call vnto the olde man for to tarrie. The which the olde man did till such time as he came nigh him, and with a great laughter he sayd. Pit­tiful knight, what dost thou thinke to recouer thy horse, and to giue me my payment for that I haue mocked thée? Woul­dest thou so quickly loose the name to be pittifull. I doe not meane to loose it sayde the Knight, neither did I giue thée [Page] my horse for to carrie thée alone, but both of vs, for it is a horse which can doe it verie well. I shall be counted for a more foole then thou said the olde man, hauing now oppor­tunitie to goe whether I list all alone, and being in thy com­panie I shall be constrained to goe whether thy pleasure is. The Prince hearing these wordes went by little and little towards the olde man, but he with a quicke course did apart himselfe from him, making with his mouth and eyes a thou­sand g [...]stures, for to make him to be angrie. The Prince be­ing astonied said: Thou false olde villaine, more worse then the stinking Foxe, tarrie thou mocker of knights, and do not thinke that the lightnesse of thy horse shall deliuer thée out of my hands. The olde man shewed as though he esteemed lyt­tle his words and threatnings, but ran with the horse from one place vnto another, making a thousand gestures and fa­ces with his mouth and eyes, which was euen death vnto y^e Prince, who said: Oh Gods is it possible that you do permit that this naughtie olde man should thus scorne me with his iestures. Coridon and the Pastora came behinde, & had great pastime to see how the knight was mocked and beguiled of an olde man, who séemed as though he could not moue him­selfe with age. With the great anger and rage that the prince had to see himselfe so mocked, he pricked his horse with the spurres for to ouertake the olde man, who was a good way [...] off from him, and made his horse to runne so swift a course, that it seemed he flew, and the olde man with the like lyght course came running towards and against the Prince, & com­ming nigh vnto him he sayd. What is this my sonne, wher­fore is all this furie, for thou doest well knowe that I came not for to cause in you anie anger. The Prince hearing this stayed his horse and did beholde him, and knewe him verye perfectly to be the king of Arginaria, and with greate haste hée alyghted from his horse, and the olde man dyd the like, and with great contentment they louingly imbraced one ano­ther. Then the knight sayd.

Is it possible louing father that you doe thus misuse him that hath no other desire but to serue you, I doe promise you [Page 319] that before I let you goe out of mine armes, to make you promise me to bring me out of this solitarie place, in recom­pence of this trouble and anger which you haue caused mée to haue. I came for no other thing said Galtenor, for knowing the great trauaile which may happen in this place, & againe, y^e griefe which thou hast for y^e trouble of a faire Pastora, which thou bringest in thy companie, and knowing the great loue which bearest vnto her I did ordaine my comming hether, & determined first to giue thée this intertainment, for that af­terward I might of thée with more ioy be receiued. At this time drewe néere the Pastora and Coridon, and Fidelio, and séeing them imbracing one an other they made the more hast on their waie, verie much meruailing to sée a crooke back and leane olde man to be turned vnto a great and faire Gy­ant, with a goodly long white beard, apparailed with rich ap­parell. The Prince turning vnto the Pastora, said: Faire Pa­stora, this noble king who is héere present is king of the I­land Arginaria, my Lord and father, who vnderstanding by his art the great necessitie in the which we are, is come to put remedie therein. The king of Arginaria with an amorous heart and stedfast eyes without mouing them, he did behold the Pastora, remembring himselfe at that time of the young childe that he lost by the riuer of Euphrates, & straight waie he knew her to be the same, of the which he did not a little reioyce, but séeing that it was conuenient at that time to hold his peace, he did dissemble it, and kept the great ioy which he receiued for the finding of her in his heart, and retourning vnto the Prince, he said: I doe not now much meruaile faire knight, that thy heart is subiect to so fayre a creature, and I doe thinke my labour verie well bestowed, because that by my cōming hether shall be taken awaie a great part of your trouble, which without all doubt you should haue had, & bée­ing in this maner talking, there appeared before them a horse loden with victualls, and straight waye they tooke order that they might eate, for that they had great néede thereof. Lyke­wise there was raised a verie faire & rich tent for to ease thē ­selues, and they knew not which way nor how it was made, [Page] and there they rested all that night, for that the king would not that they shoulde so soone departe from him, because hée would for a time recreate himself in their conuersation, & told them of some things that shuld happen vnto them. So when the morning was come the Tent was taken awaie, & they began to trauaile by a verie straight and narrow path. The King of Arginaria did leade them the waie, and commaun­ded them to followe him, who woulde set them out of that wildernesse, and bring them vnto the sea of Hyrcania, wher­as they shall finde all things necessarie for their new begun voyage, and bad them that they shoulde haue verie greate care, for béeing once in Grecia, there shall be ioyned together the nailes and pawes of two of the most furious Lyons that be in all the world, the one bringing the other in so great af­fliction, that the better of them both cannot be iudged, neither acknowledge anie vauntage till such time as with their out­ragious furie be taken awaie the lockes which be vpon their crowned heads, and shall at that instant in a moment be set at libertie by the robber of his first ioy, making restitution of that which a long time hath bene vsurped, remaining one of them without griefe of the young Hinde, that he bringeth with him. When all this shall come to passe I will returne my sonne and see you. And in saying these wordes he vani­shed awaie, not séeing anie other thing but the horse which was laden with their victualls, which caused them to remain amazed at his sodaine departure, and yet verie much comfor­ted in that he had séene him: So they trauailed all that daie by a narow path. When night was come, without knowing by whom, the Tent was armed againe that they might rest themselues therein, when they were within and had cōman­ded their horses to be put in, the doore of the tent did shut of it selfe with so great strength, that they could not open it, al­though they did make a proofe, for that Galtenor had so made it, because of a greate number of wilde beastes which were in those partes, and in the night time raungeth abroade for to séeke theyr prayes. So they passed that night with greate rest and ease, till the morning that the Tent doore did open, [Page 320] the Tent was taken vp and put vppon the horse, and all the rest, tooke their iourney presentlye following still that na­rowe path till it was noone, at which time they came vnto the sea side, and harde by the place whereas they ariued, they sawe at an Anker a Barke meruailously well cauked and trimmed, made after the manner of a Serpent, with mightie wings and a long taile. The Prince when he saw the Barke made after that sorte, straight waie he vnderstoode that that was the Barke which the king of Arginaria had spoken of, and without anie more tarrying he commaunded his horse to be put in and all the rest, and he tooke the Pastora in his armes and put her into the Barke, they were no sooner within, but that with great swiftnesse she beganne to mooue her selfe, in such sorte that in a small time they were farre from the shoare. Thus they trauailed with great content­ment for the space of sixe dayes, and the seauenth daie ve­rie earlye in the morning they were at the shoare verye nigh Constantinople, whereas with great ioye and pleasure they went a lande, and mounting vppon their horses they entered into a verie geéene and delightfull Forrest, which stoode in their waie, and within a while they heard a greate noise of hunters, and towardes that way the Prince and his companie went, and in the way they trauailed, they rode by a fountaine, in the which there was to the number of eight knights verie well armed, and they were refreshing of them­selues. The Prince for that they passed by somewhat out of the waie did not salute them, but passing on his waie with the faire Pastora, who followed him, vsing betwixt them­selues verie swéete and amorous conuersation. The eight knightes when they sawe them so passe by, they found them­selues agréeued for the small reckoning he made of them, but in especiall one of them who was more proud and presump­tuous then the rest, without speaking anie worde at all, la­ced on his healme, and cast his shéelde at his necke, and bée­ing readie hée mounted vpon his horse, and tooke his Speare in his hande, which stoode hard by leaning against a frée, and with a verye reasonable pace hée followed after him, and [Page] when he was nigh vnto the Prince, he sayd: Knight, with more pride and better adorned with rich armour, then with good manners or courtesie, you must iuste with me, for that making thée to kisse the ground, constrained by my terrible incounter, thou shalt learne in another place to vse curtesie. The heroycall Prince with his accustomed méekenesse, aun­swered. If my salutation gentle knight, was not as it be­commeth a traueling knight, the distaunce of the waye was the occasion thereof: and this being true which I haue said, then haue you no reason to blame me. Thou hast lesse rea­son sayd the Knight of the fountaine, for to excuse thy selfe from the iuste, which I doo aske of thée, therefore take thy choyce of the field, and procure to settle and firme thy selfe well in the saddle. The Gréeke seing his pride, asked of Co­ridon his shéeld, and a speare which they brought with them: and hauing it in his hand, he saw that the field was all pur­ple very smooth, and a knight made in it, armed with purple armour, striking another Knight, armed likewise in purple armour ouerthwart the eyes, and it was all full of starres of golde. The Prince was meruailously amazed and trou­bled at the great cléerenesse thereof, so that he was constrai­ned to hide his eyes with his owne hands: but the calling out of the Knight of the fountaine did cause him to chaunge his purpose, and called for his speare, and with a furious course, he went foorth vnto the incounter. The Knight of the fountaine did breake his speare, not making the Prince to mooue any more then he had stroke vpon a hard Rocke: but the Princes incounter was such, that he ouerthrew him to the ground, & with the fall he brake his arme in two parts, who hauing no power to mooue himself, and with the great paine & griefe he felt, made a pitifull complaint. The Gréeke séeing him in that case sayd: Knight, it had bene better thou hadst remained without any salutation quietlye, then nowe quarrelling thervpon, thou hast thy arme broken, and remai­nest vnable to helpe thy selfe, and without saying any other thing, he did departe, determining to prosecute his former iourney. So within a while after, he heard a great noyse of [Page 314] calling, and looking about to sée who called him, he saw that it was the rest of the Knights, which followed with greate spéede. There he determined to staye their comming, and made himselfe ready vnto the battaile, if they would demand it of him. These seauen knights came with great yre, to sée the other knight in that perplexitie, (and forgetting the custome of Grecia, of long time obserued and kept amongst the Knights) they all seauen together with their speares on their rests, they made their incounter vpon him, and stroke the Gréeke with their firmed blowes, some on the sides, and some on the breast with great furie: yet the Prince remai­ned more firme thē an Anfield of yron. They all brake their speares on him, but at their passing by, he stroke one of them such a blow vpon the healme, that he ouerthrew him deade to the ground. The rest which remained, returned vnto him with their swords in their hand, laying vpon him very ter­ribly like knights that were both valiant and couragious: but the Prince moued his horse amongst them, with so great lightnesse and strength, that quicklie his power and force was knowen vnto them, he did so torment them with his mightie blowes. And the more they did grieue him, the worse it was for them: for hauing lost all patience, he threw his shield at his backe, and did assault them with such fury, that in a short time he remained with onely two of them in the field, who séeing the other of their companions dead, procured to saue their liues, tourning their backes vnto the Gréeke, & pricking their horse with the spurs, they put themselues into a broad waye.

This furious Knight followed after them, procuring to ouertake them, and to make that not one of them shall beare newes of the successe of the battaile: but by reason they had some vauntage of the waye, and againe their horses were very good, for all the hast that he coulde make, he could not ouertake them, till such time as they came whereas were many tents armed in the field, and at that place ther was a knight y^e stept before him to defend the other two which ran away, who were armed with verie strong and straunge ar­mour. [Page] Who, if you doo remember was the Emperour Al­phebo, and our Knight was his sonne, who with his sword in his hand all bloudie, followed the other two knights. The Emperour Alphebo seeing them come running from y^e one alone Knight, called vnto them and sayd: Tell me where­fore doe you runne away you cowards and dishonourers of the Gréekish genealogie, of whom are you afraide, of one alone Knight? Soueraigne Lord sayd one of the Knightes, he that doeth follow vs, is no Knight, but a diuell, and thy surmounted strength is néedfull to make resistaunce against his. So at that time the Prince approched as I haue tolde you, and likewise the Emperour Alphebo, who did verye much beholde his goodly stature and disposition: the Prince did likewise behold the Emperour, and the straungenesie of his armour. The Emperour was the first that beganne to speake and sayd: Tell me knight, what hath my Knightes, done vnto you, to cause you to vse & intreat them so straight­ly. Then the Prince who had lost all patience, sayde. Pro­cure to make their reuengement, and doo not aske mée the cause of their cowardnesse. For that it is verye apparaunt, that they themselues are in fault of their ill intreating. This good Emperour, as one that made little reckoning of his words, very méekely sayd. If they are in the fault it ly­keth me very well, therefore I doo desire to know the occa­sion if it be thy pleasure to tell me, that I may altogether lay the fault vpon them. The Prince with a high voyce sayde. By the Gods I doo sweare vnto thée, that it is true that I haue tolde thée. The Emperour when he hearde him name those false Gods, without any more tarrying drewe out his sword and sayd. Defende thy selfe Pagan, for it shall cost thée thy lyfe, for laying hands vpon Christians, who are more worth then thou art. Now doo I not desire to knowe the occasion, for that they are Christians and thou arte a Moore. And I saye, that they are in no faulte. So there they assaulted one another, with most terrible and mortall battayle.

[Page 322]Oh Nimphes borne in the Hill of Helicon, and whose habitation is in the Mountaine Olympus, and ye Ladies of the sacred Cabolino, vnto all you I doo inuocate to ground in me wisedome and vnderstanding, as you did into him, who did make the Gréeke dedicated vpon the great déedes of that mightie Achilles, for that I may perticularly declare the fu­rious & well fought baitaile of these two inuincible knights, without knowing to be the father and the son, who hauing their swords in the aire, they both together discharged the one vpon the others helme, in such sort, that either of them were constrained spite of their hearts to make obedience, as vnto such high & mightie Princes as they were ought to be done, and both together & at one time they returned their swords about their heads, striking one another such blowes vppon their beauers, that they made a great number of sparkes of fire to flye in the aire, which was the occasion that it tooke away somewhat the sight of their eyes. Oh how yrefull was this nephew of Trebatio, and being ouercome therewith, his strong and mightie blowes were incorportable, and taking his sword in both his hands, with that wrath & great light­nesse, he stroke the Emperour such a blow vpon the healme, that the sound thereof made an Eccho throughout all the mountaines and plaines, and he fell backwardes vppon the crouper of his horse Cornerino, who béeing scarred with the noyse of the blowe, ranne rounde about the fieldes with his master. The Emperour came straight waie againe to himselfe, and considering the strong blowe which he had re­ceiued, he sayde: Iesus helpe me, and lykewise with his sworde in both his handes, hée stroke him vpon the helme, that in spite of our knight he fell backwards vpon y^e crouper of his horse, who being scarred with the blowe, flinging and kicking, he did apart and carrie his master from his enimie. And comming againe vnto himselfe, he did acknowledge his strong aduersary which he had before him, and likewise hée did consider, how that he called for succour vpon y^e name of Iesus.

But his furie was so much that without anie farther [Page] consideration, blaspheming & denying his Gods, he set spurs vnto his horse and returned vnto the Emperour who came towards him, where was ioyned such a battaile as neuer in Grecia had bene séene the like, either causing other by theyr disordinate blows many times to be without remembrance, sometimes inclining their heads vnto their breastes, and at other time vpon their horse crouper, in such sorte, that there was inough to do betwéene them for to settle themselues vp­right in their saddles, all their faces vnder their healmes bée­ing berayed with bloud, and often giuing gréeuous grones. At this time was all ire and wrath wholy kindled, and all pati­ence lost, pollicie and experience was forgotten, so that they made their battaile as men without wit or reason, procuring each of them to bring his enimie to death, and either of them accounting himselfe of small prowesse and valour, that one alone knight should indure so long before them, and he who was the most gréeued héereat was the strong Prince, not knowing that he dealt with his Father the mightie Alfebo, for neither furious knights nor fierse Gyants could at any [...] time bring him vnto that extremitie as at this time he was, so with this ire and wrath they indured two houres with their mightie blowe, being then present the Emperour Tre­batio, and the two Princes of Rodamonte and Rodefo, and the king of Macedonia, and the great Duke of Atenas, and Magecia, and the Earle of Acaya, all the which were in a great admiration to sée the great resistaunce that the Empe­rour Alfebo had found, who at that time did stretch vp him­selfe vpon his stirops, discharging his sword vppon the head of our Prince, the blow was so terrible that the aire was fil­led with sparkes and flames of fire, and made an eckoe to sound in the hidden caues, and Claridiano fell backwardes vpon the crouper of his horse without anie remembraunce, & his armes hanging downe as though he had bene dead, and voyded at his mouth great abundance of bloud. The fayre Pastora verie much meruailed to sée this rigorous battaile, who sate with her face couered beholding the same, the lyke did Fidelio, and it was vnto them a great griefe to sée howe [Page 323] how the Emperor did mightely assault him, procuring to kil him. At this time the knight was come to his remembrance and setteled himselfe againe in his saddle, and with an high voyce he sayd. Oh Gods of small valour, cursed be serui [...] that I haue done vnto you, because you doo so ill rewarde me, who hath so much honoured you. Now doo I well vn­derstand that your power is very small: for that you haue deceiued me, this being the first christian Knight that I haue bene in battaile with, in all my lyfe. I doo beléeue that you did all run away, when you heard this knight name y^e name of Iesus. Héere I doo renounce all your deitie and potencie, for it is all as nothing, and agayne I doo call you vyle, and of small estimation and power. And in saying these words, he ran against the Emperour with so great furye, that hée made the ground to tremble vnder him, and when he came nigh vnto the Emperour, he stroke him an ouerthwart blow with so great strength and might, that he made him to fall forwards vpon his horse cares without any remembraunce, in such sort that it séemed he had bene dead, for that there procéeded out of his healme so much bloud. And by the great strength of that blow, his horse was constrained to stoope w^t his forefeete. This mightie Prince with double fury turned with his sword to strike him the second blow, but it was in such sort, that the reynes of his horse bridle was fast in the buckle of his armour, and was constrained by the force hee put to strike his blow to pul the bridle, which made y^e horse to rise vp before, standing vpon his hinder féete, which was very perillous vnto the Knight: and being in that sorte, hée lost the strength of his blow for to succour himselfe, and to gouerne his horse. In which time the Emperour came a­gaine to his former senses, and settled himselfe in his saddle, who séeing the great perill in the which he was brought, did meruaile much thereat, and being full of wrath, like vnto a Lyon he recouered his sword, and set spurres vnto his horse, and made him to mooue like vnto the winde, throwing out at his beauer a thicke smoke with very anger, and gaue his assault with so great fury, that the knight could not but som­what [Page] to feare him, and making his defence with his shield, he did abide the comming of the blowe, which cutting the aire did descend vpon his shield with so great strength, that in spite of the force of his arme it chaunced vpon his helme, in such sorte, that it made him perforce decline his head and all his bodye vnto the pommell of his saddle, and his téeth to chatter in his head, but he remained in that order, but a small time, and roaring like a Bull, exclaiming against▪ Fortune, he lift vp his sword and gaue him the like paiment. At this time the battaile began a new to be very terrible, increasing double their fury, and likewise augmenting their blowes, in such sort, that with the least blow that was stro­ken, it séemed to haue cut the other all to péeces, which made all them that did behold the battaile very much to meruaile. At this time there appeared to come foorth out of the For­rest, a Knight, all armed in white armor, edged and wrought about with an excellent worke of fine golde, his healme on his head, and his shield at his necke, and gyrte with a very [...] ritch sword, and of so gentle a disposition, that ther was none equall vnto him, and séeing the battaile betwixte the two Knights, he did stand and behold them: and straight waies he knew the Emperour, but he could not iudge who y^e other should be, but greatly meruailed at their strength, and with the great desire he had to know who it was, he demaunded of an old Knight that stood by him, the occasion of their con­trouersie, and who the Knights were. The olde Knight, for that he seemed to be a Knighte of high estate, sayde. The name of one of them, I can tell thée, the which is the knight with the straunge and rich armour, who is the excellent and mightie Emperour Alphebo of Trapisond, but the Knight with the Sunne, héere is not one that doth know him. This Knight began the controuersie first, with certaine knights of Grecia, who killing of some of them, and other some, verye sore wounded, and following other two which ranne away, the Emperour put himself before him, for to know the occa­sion of his great furye, and that Knight did aunswere him with great pride and arrogancie, which was the occasion of [Page 324] this their controuersie: and it is more then sixe houres, since they haue bene martring one anothers flesh without all pi­tie, and this is all which I can tell you, of that which you haue demaunded of me. The Knight with the white armor was very much amazed, when he knew that the controuer­sie indured so long, and could not iudge who it should be, of so great power and strength, that was able to resist the fu­ry of the mightie Alphebo.

In all this time these two valiant warriours were not idle, but still their battaile went forwards, in such sort, that either of them did doubt of the victorye, finding their aduer­sarie so mightie and strong▪ So in this extremitie they indu­red more then sixe houres not resting one moment, but still plagning the due the other, making of their bodies euen An­fields, which continually: are beaten on with hammers, and as the trauaile was great, and could not be chosen but that they must [...] be weary, and show some kinde of faint­nesse: vpon a sodaine both at one time did withdrawe them­selues to take some rest, either of them very much meruai­ling at the great power and strength of his aduersarie. This inuincible Emperour could not by any meanes iudge who the Knight should be that had brought him into that extre­mitie, for vntill that daye was there neuer knight that euer before that time did the like, and being full of yre & wrath he sayd.

What is now become of thée Alphebo? Where is now thy great valour, that hath bene so much spoken of in all the worl [...]? What is become of thy surmounted strength, where­with thou dids [...] quaile the power of Lindaraza, and that with which thou didst breake those inchaunted helmes? What is become of thy terrible yre, wherewith thou diddest subdue mountaines, newe in sunder Diamond armour, and brought all thing vnder thy subiection, nowe I sée that all is forgot­ten, and nothing worth, for that one alone knight and a Pa­gan, hath brought thée in [...]o this extremitie. O holy God, to thée I inuocate, and desire thée to helpe me; & doe not permit [Page] that my fame be robbed and taken away by a Pagan and an enemie vnto our Christian lawe. These and such like rea­sons pronounced this [...]holarick Mars, and neither more nor lesse, the mightie and strong Prince, casting vp his eyes, and looking vnto the heuens, and reprehending his Gods, he said, Why are you so contrary vnto me, for that as yet I neuer had victorie, but it hath bene by the strength of mine owne armes. What recompence haue I receiued for all y^t I haue done? as yet I neuer had any fauour at your hands, for my owne power hethertoo hath bene valuable vnto me, and not yours, for that I do beléeue is nothing as it doth appeare ve­ry plainly, in the little fauour that you shew me against this furious Christian. What are you angrie, that I am come into this Countrey: and are anie of you come downe to take reuengement of me therefore? Well, séeing it is so, let it be Iupiter, or Mars, or whosoeuer it be of you, be it a God or a Diuell, first before I receiue the death, I will make you to call for aide of all the rest of the Gods: and if it be a diuel, to call likewie for aide of the rest of the diuells. And with­out any more tarrying, he retourned againe vnto the battail [...] the like did the Emperour, & made their assault with so great furie, that they onely [...]punc; which did behold them were not a little amazed, but also the heauen and earth did meruaile at their force, & the Eccho was weary in answering of their terrible blowes, so that there was almost no hope of remedy in their controuersie, for that each one feared his aduersarie, & there was not anie aduauntage of either part. This conflict conti­nued so long betwéene them, that they were almost out of breath, at y^e time bath together they lyfted vp theyr Herculiā armes, & hauing them aloft they ioyned together w^t such fury that their horses met, and stroke their heads the one against the other, in such sort, that although they were both good, yet they fell downe to the ground with their Knights: but they were not so soone fallen, as they wer straight on foote again, without receiuing any harme, and there began betwixt them a new contention. There was shewed the greate lyghtnesse of the Prince, and likewise that of the Emperour was appa­rant, [Page 325] in that either of them did so valiauntly defend himselfe from his contrarie, although at that time their strong armes were more gouerned with ire and wrath, then with pollicie or experience, which was the occasion that the battaile was the more perillous & terrible. This mightie Alphebo thought much, that in the presence of the Emperour his Father the battaile shuld so long indure, and that with one alone knight, and not béeing his brother. The like did the Prince consi­der of that, by reason that the great reuerence and respect that the people had, he knew that there shuld be present the Em­perour of Grecia, who tooke him for his graundfather, as the furie of Merlin had tolde him. All these considerations dyd cause betwixt the two warriours the more wrath, yet for all that, they which did beholde them could iudge no aduantage of either part, at the which they greatly meruailed, but in es­pecially aboue all the rest the king of Sardenia was most a­mazed, who from the beginning of their controuersie was be­holding of them, and sawe in what great perill and daunger both of them were, and the great resistaunce which the vn­knowen knight made against the Emperour Alphebo, wher­fore he returned vnto the Emperour of Grecia, and with a light voice he sayd: O holy God, is it possible that this knight doth resist so long against him, that a Porter of hell within a rocke hidden, could not make his defence against. The Em­perour of Grecia would haue made him aunswere, but that he was disturbed by a mightie and terrible blowe which hée sawe giuen his sonne vpon his healme, that it made him to boowe both his knées to the grounde, and by reason that the sword did lay no holde on the hard stéele, it descended downe vppon his left shoulder, and cutting a sunder all the buckles and lacing of his healme, he made it to flie from his head, discouering that fayre and magnanimous countenaunce, a­dorned with great maiestie. The Knight when he sawe him in that sort, would haue stroke him againe, but yet this war­lyke Mars although he sawe himselfe in that great perplex­itie, hee wanted nothing of the accustomed courage which he was vsed to haue at other times in such like necessities, [Page] but with a light leape he cléered himselfe from that blowe, and [...] his contrarie another with so great furie, that hée [...] and put one of his hands to the ground to stay [...] that he might not fall, and with an incredible [...] holde on his healme, & pulled at it with so [...] he pulled it from his head, and did disco­uer [...] and faire face, so that all they who did [...] to he the verie [...]igure of the [...]. This valiant young knight séeing [...] vnto the Emperour, caught [...] like did the Emperour vnto him, [...] a dangerous & p [...]rilious wrast­ling, [...] vppon a sodaine all the heauen [...] and thick clowde, which fel [...] for a space, that they [...] but it [...]ished [...] who before were [...] now put a part the one from the [...] betwixt thē was there an old [...] [...] stature and gentle dispositi­ost, adorned with gar [...]ents of great estate, the which were wrought with [...], and pearle, that neuer Emperour nor king had [...], and vpon his head he had a crowne of golde of such meruailous ma [...]ing, that no humane tongue is able to declare the riches thereof, and on the one side of him there was a mightie Gyant, adorned in the same manner & guise. And Claridiano did straight waies knowe them, who knéeling downe before them he sayd: Excellent king Delfo my Lord, what sodain comming is this, in leauing your ma­iesties kingdome. The king went towards him with his armes abroad, and sayd: Ah my sonne, wherefore should my comming be but to recreate and reioyce my selfe in séeing of thée, and to disturbe this cruell battaile that thou hast with him whom thou oughtest to honour and reuerence, as it is thy duetie. Then Galtenor did cause them to holde their pe [...]ce, for that with a l [...]de voyce he beganne to speake vn­to the Emperour Trebatio, and sayd.

[Page]Soueraigne Emperour, long time past without anye knowledge vnto thée I came into thy Empire, and my com­ming was the occasion of great heauinesse and sorrowe vnto the Empresse Claridiana, whome I doe sée there armed with that white armour. The Emperour when he heard that wold not staie anie more reasonings, but went towardes her, who pulling off her healme likewise came towards him to kisse his handes, so there the one imbraced and receiued the other with great loue. The king Galtenor did cut of theyr talke and addressed his wordes vnto the Empresse Claridiana, and sayde: Soueraigne Ladie, do you remember when that you did contemplate your selfe vpon the beautie of your children which you wer deliuered off, begotten by the Emperour Al­phebo, at which time a wall did open, whereat did enter a Serpent, who at two mouthfulls did burie them in his bow­ells. You shall vnderstand, Empresse and Ladie, that I was the Serpent, being compelled and constrained by greate ne­cessitie of the strong arme of your mightie sonne, to doe that which at that time I did, and I did bring them vp in the maiestie as vnto such persons was necessarie and dutifull. In the end of sixe yeares, when I determined to make an ende of my iourney, resting our selues by the riuers side of Eu­phrates, I lost the maiden childe, wher all the time past vnto this present, she hath bene publishing abroade her extreame beautie, till such time as the valour of her brother did bring her from thence, who is the same that is talking with y^e king Delfo of Trapobana, and knowe this of a certaintie Ladie, that it is thy sonne Claridiano of the Speare. Thou diddest giue him that name by reason of a Speare that he hath on his breast from his birth, and that faire Pastora whō you do sée there, is your proper daughter, and I am he that did rob and take them from you, and héere I doe make restitution of them againe, so that I do deserue pardon of all the sorrow and griefe which I haue béene the occasion of, onely with this present which I do present you withall. And likewise of you Emperour of Trabisond, I doe desire the same pardon, [Page] and ioyntly therewith to forget the anger that you haue a­gainst your owne sonne. Great was the ioy & contentment of the Empresse, being almost beside her selfe, to sée that she had recouered her two children, which she thought had bene lost long agoe, and going to imbrace Claridiano, she found him vpon his knées, asking pardon of his Father of all that be­fore had passed. What shall I heere saie of the good Trebatio, who when he knew that the Pastora was his nephew (& that his desire was of a daughter, and neuer had anie) with his armes al abroad he went vnto her, who vnderstanding their communication, did alight from her Palfraie, at which time the Emperour came and tooke her in his armes, almost wée­ping for ioy, and with verye amorous wordes he did imbrace her, & receiued so great contentment of their recouerie as euer he did in all his life for anie thing.

¶How the Emperour did verie much reioyce himselfe with his nephewes, but in especiall with the Pasto­ra, & of the great tempest which came vpon them at supper time, and of all that happened afterward. Chap. 30.

WIth this great ioy and pleasure which I haue tolde you they retourned vnto Constantino­ple, the Emperour Trebatio carried with him the Pastora, and wold not one moment a part himselfe from her, and the Empresse went talking with Claridiano. The Emperour Al­phebo was not a little ioyfull, who went in the companie of the king Delfo,, and Galtenor went beside the Empresse, who knewe not howe to giue him sufficient thankes for his comming. And at that instaunt béeing all present, they a­lighted at the Pallaice, and the Emperour Trebatio car­ryed the Pastora vnto her graundmother, committing her vnto her custodie for to make much of her. And hée tooke the king of Trapobana by the hande, and rendered vnto him verie much courtesie, and therewith entered into a fayre hall, [Page 327] whereas they found the Tables couered, and sate downe to supper, whereas they were with great ioy and pleasure, such as neuer was séene the like in the Court. The Emperour & the two Kings were set together, then the Emperour Alphe­bo and the Empresses, and by them Claridiano and the Pa­stora, who was beheld of all them that were there present, much meruailing at her great beautie. Coridon did serue them at y^e table, very much delighted with that he had séene. The Supper indured so long, that Diana did extende her beames: at this time they tooke vp the tables, and Galtenor with a loude voyce sayd: One of the high glories of my Es­clarisido, sonne Claridiano, shall appeare in this great Citie, before the day doo come. He had no sooner made an ende of these words, when that the heauens beganne to waxe darke with a very thicke clowde, and it came with great thunde­rings and lightenings, & with so terrible a noyse, as though the earth would haue sunke, and the longer it indured, the more was the fury thereof: in such sorte, that they all fell vpon their knées, and with great humilitie, they desired god to deliuer them from the fury of that great tempest. So with this sodaine chaunce, they passed away the night till y^e mor­ning, and although the tempest in some part ceased, yet the heauens remained all cloudie. When the morning was come, there appeared before the pallaice nigh vnto y^e inchant­ment of Lindabrides, a very strange aduenture, which made them all to meruaile, and straight way they gaue the Empe­rour to vnderstand thereof, who went out of the Pallayce with all his Knightes, with great desire to knowe what it was, so likewise went foorth his sonnes and nephewes. And when they came into the Courte, they sawe that there was fi [...]ed foure pillers, euery one of a very fine Rubie, vppon the which was placed a Sepulchar of Christall, and with­in the sepulch [...]r there séemed to be a verye faire Ladye, her breast pearced thorough with a sword, and vpon the S [...]pul­cher there [...]aye a man all a long, with his face looking vp to the heauens, and apparailed with robes of estate, with a Crowne of golde vpon his head.

[Page]And vnder the Sepulcher was there spread abroad a great Carpet a cloth of gold, and vpon it two pillowes of the same, and vpon them lay a knight armed with verie rich armour, and his sword laie at his féete, his eyes were shut, and out of them distilled verie great teares, at euerie piller there was a Gentlewoman which séemed to be without anie remem­braunce, although they wept verie bitterly, and nigh vnto the Sepulcher there [...]aie a terrible great beast, of the verie same making of that which Claridiano slew, for to set at libertye the king of Arabia Lapetra. (This was the spectacle y^t Cla­ridiano sawe comming in the aire.) The Sepulcher was cō ­passed round about with a strong wall, with foure gates for to enter in thereat, the gates were after the manner and cou­lour of fine Diamonds: néere vnto the gate which was ouer against the Pallaice, was there a Marble piller, at the which hung a Bugle horne, and an Epitaph written with red Let­ters, the which the Prince Rodolpho did reade with a high voice, that all that were there might heare him, and it said as followeth. At such time as the crueltie of the king of Arabia, Lepetra shall be at liberiie, and the valour of that worthye Claridiano knowen, then they which hath not ben wounded w^t loue, shall know both the reason & the rage of loue, for the which cause I doe aduise him that doth not know what loue is, not to proue this aduenture if he will not fall into greate misfortune, for that cause he must passe by pure force, all the force that Claridiano made plaine. And this shall indure till such time as the bastard Lyon, sonne vnto the Emperiall li­on, be borne of the rauening Ounce. Then he who hath loue in his brest, and passed through that vnhappie Ladie, daugh­ter vnto the king of Arabia, shall sée the great rage without reason of loue. The Emperour when he heard that it were things which touched his nephew, sayd: Oh excellent aduen­ture of my Claridiano, this daie is shewed vnto vs his great valour, Galtenor told vnto those knights all that had passed in y^e aduenture vntil that day, which caused in them great ad­miration, and more, at the making of that strange beast who they did behold very atentiuely, & with this they passed away [Page 328] all that day, & the Pastora did chaunge her accustomed appa­rell into robes of silke, & cloth of gold, shewing y^e great estate & beautie in all points which was in her. All the whole court receiued great pleasure, sauing onely the Princesse Oliuia, who for the absence of her Rosicleer, all things did séeme cō ­trarie vnto her, farre different from the iudgemente [...] of all other. So the time drew on for to go to rest. Then Galtenor tooke Claridiano by the hand and lead him a part on the one side of the hall, and sayd vnto him: I will carrie thée with me into a place, whereas thy heart a new shall be wounded, and shall forget the loue which before thou hast had, and therwith he commaunded him to arme himselfe in great secret, y^e suc­cesse of the same shall be tolde you héereafter. The next daie in the morning, when they were all readie to go to heare ser­uice with the Emperour, there entered into the hall a knight of a great stature and proportion of his members, and was armed with verie rich armour, his face and his handes were vnarmed, and shewed by his demeanour a great maiestie and seuere countenance, he was of his face somewhat browne of coulour, but the proportion thereof was verie well fauoured, & his beard began to bud, he brought after him thrée squires and Pages, the one of them brought his Speare which was bigge and short, and the other brought his healme, & the third brought his shéeld with an Emperiall deuice, & straight waie it was knowen wherefore his comming was, and although conformable to reason we haue not spoken anie thing of the faire matrone the quéene of Lyra, who with prosperous wea­ther and great pleasure did nauigate by the sea, holpen by the furie of Borias, which with a fresh winde did continually fill those stiffe sailes, and cutting the seas with that sharp steme, leauing behinde them the token of their great & swift way, by the froth of the water, and in short time discouering land, they tooke port vpon the shore of Almaine, wheras this faire Ladie went a land, and with her two Nymphes tooke theyr iourney towardes the Court of Almaine. So she trauailed two daies, and nothing chaunced worth the telling.

The thirde daye entering in amongest the thicke and [Page] craggie mountaines, she lost her waie amongest a companie of high and thicke Pine trées, amongst the which she gaue a thousand turnes, not knowing which waye to take to bring her selfe out thereof. So with this sorrow and griefe she pas­sed all that daie till night came vpon them, at such time as they had found a verie narow and not much vsed way, which lead them vp to a high and mightie stéepe mountaine, in which place they determined to rest themselues, til such time as Phoebus should make her returne, passing awaie the night in verie goo [...] communication with her Gentlewomen, and did sup with that which they continually were prouided off. So when the breake of the daie was come, the Quéene dyd very well peruse her armour, and put her selfe on horsbacke, and for that the waie séemed to be somewhat daungerous, she put on her helme and carryed her Speare in her hande, and with great trauaile they followed that way, when they had well néere spent the third part of the daie, and had made an end of the going vp that mountaine, being vpon the toppe thereof, they looked about them on all partes, and towardes the right hand on the foote of that high mountaine they sawe a companie of armed men, and by reason that they were so far of, they could not discerne what it shuld be. So straight way they descended downe the mountaine, and whan they came at the foote therof, they looked round about to see if they could discouer that which they had seene from the top of the same, and sawe that there were to the number of twentie knights verie well armed, and amongest them a Gyant, who brought with them two knights prisoners, armed with verie rich ar­mour, all sauing their heads, & with them a Ladie who was as sad and sorrowfull, as faire and beautifull, and with her certaine Gentlewomen which did beare her companie. Thes [...] were the vnhappie Earle of Tirol, and his sister, and Don Florisarte of Bauiera, who as I haue tolde you were taken prisoners in the way going towards Esprich, whom this va­liant matrone did sée cōming downe the Mountaine, & when this worthie Gentlewoman did sée this great force & wrong done, she was verie desirous to know y^e occasion what shuld [Page 329] moue them to doe that outrage, or else to procure to set them at libertie, & hasting on her waie, larging her pace more then she did before, she in a short space came and ouertooke them, and by reason that the Queene made great hast, and the noise of her comming was great, the Gyaunt was constrained to looke backe, to see what it was that caused so great a noyse, and when he sawe that it was a knight that came after him, he determined to staie and abide his comming. And when she was come nigh him, this couragious Ladie with a man­ly voice sayd: Tell me Gyaunt what euill hath these priso­ners committed, that so without all reason thou doest carrye them so manakled and bounde. The Gyaunt did staie and beholde her with great frowning, and aunswered her with a wrathfull voice and sayd. What honour and prowesse is it to thée, for that thou art so desirous to know, and with so great pride doest aske the question? No other thing sayd this vn­knowen Gentlewoman, but to make friendship where none is, and againe if of thee they doe receiue anie griefe or wrong, to amend the same, for that I doe knowe that the condition of all Gyaunts, is nothing, but procuring to doe all wrong, therefore determine to tell me, or make thy selfe readie to thy defence. The furie of the Gyant was verie great when that he heard these words, in such sort, that it séemed fire flew out of his eyes, and with that furie he spurred forwardes his horse. The like did that worthie matrone, at that time they set spurs to their horses, and with a swift course they made their incounter, and stroke their Speares vppon their stéelie sheelds, the Speare of the Gyant made his stay vpon the fine­nesse of the inchaunted sheelde, but this Ladie did not onely pearce through his armour, but also through his breast and bodie, ouerthrowing him dead with great furie to y^e ground, whereas he gaue a terrible fall that he made the earth to tremble, and the Quéene passed a long so quietlye as though she had done nothing, and with great lightnesse she turned a­bout her horse, with her naked sword in her hand, and saw that the Gyaunt laye a long on the grounde dead. When the Knightes of the Gyaunt sawe that furious incounter, [Page] and that their principal refuge was dead, without any more tarrying, they altogether did assault her, and this worthy ma­tron put her selfe against them, who was with them incoun­tred on all sides round about, but yet they did not moue her from her saddle little nor much: but she retourned against them in such sorte, that she with her mightie blowes, made their harnesse and redde bloud [...] rounde about the fielde. These Knights were all chosen Knights, and did trouble her very much, making her sundry times to loose the sight of her eyes, y^t which did bring her very much in cholar, in such sort that she threw her shield at her backe, and taking her sword in both her hands, she bestarred her selfe on the one side and on the other, about their heads, and wounding of knights, o­uerthrowing of them to the ground dead, in such sorte, that when she remembred her selfe, there was no more but fiue of y^e Knights left aliue, who when they saw so great slaugh­ter in so short time, they determined the seperation of the controuersie, and to put more confidence in their horse féete, than in their owne defence and putting it in vre, they ranne away. This Lady made no reckoning to follow them, but went straight waye and did vnloose the Prisoners. Unto whom Don Florisarte of Bauiera did giue thankes for all the rest, desiring him that he wold declare vnto them his name for that they might knowe vnto whom they were bound, for that great benefit done vnto them. The Lady did answere them with great courtesie and sayd: Gentle Knightes, my name is of so small valour, that I cannot be knowen by it: but that which I may doo to giue you contentment, is to pul off my healme, and in séeing my face, you shall sée if that at any time you haue heard any mention of me: and in saying these words, she her selfe did vnlace and tooke off her helme, And looke with what beautie the Radiaunt Sunne dooeth showe himselfe vppon a sodaine when all his beames hath bene hidden with a darke clowde: euen so, and rather more, did this excellent and beautifull face show it selfe, after that she had pulled off her healme, the which before did cou [...]r the same.

[Page 330]The Knights when they saw her great beautie, they very much meruailed, and beléeued that in the proportion of his great beautie, it shuld be Poliphebo of Tinacria. Then Don Florisarte sayd: Your excellent and beautifull face, and your high and mightie déedes, gentle Knight, d [...]eth make vs be­léeue two things: the one, that thou wer [...] borne to remedie and aide those that can doo little: the other, we doo beleeue that thou art brother, or some kinsman, vnto that [...]aire Po­liphebo Prince of Tinacria, sonne vnto the Emperour Tre­batio, who now is called the Knight of the Braunch, by reason of a golde Braunch that he carrieth on his shield for his deuice, as you doo vpon your healme: and heere I doo de­sire you, to tell vs whether you are his brother or not, for that we are much bound vnto him, and there they declared vnto her, all y^t was done for them, as before you haue heard. The which was the occasion, that ther kindeled in y^e quéene, a great desire to knowe him, and informing her selfe howe that he was gone towards Grecia, she did determine to fol­low him, to sée if she might méete with him, to proue her selfe on him.

And béeing in this thought she made answere vnto that they demaunded, and sayd: This Knight whom you do speak off, I doo not knowe him, neither haue I séene him at anye time, but haue heard newes of his heroycall déeds of armes: and I am very glad that you haue taken this seruice as a déede done by him. Then the faire Clarentina sayd. Ah flow­er of all Knighthoode, wherefore will you thus hide your selfe from them, who are so much bound vnto your seruice. I know not vnto whom I should attribute it, but vnto my vnhappie and ill fortune, for that I doo wel see that thou art Poliphebo, the flower of all those that doo weare armour: doo not denie me, beeing so well knowen. Gentle Lady said the Quéene, by that which I owe vnto my highnesse, I protest vnto you, that I am not the partie that you doo speake off: and héere I doe sweare vnto you, that I am a woman as you are, and I am called Archisilora Quéene of Lyra: [Page] and this Prince whome you haue in so great price, I neuer saw. Then Clarentina did beleeue that which the quéene had said, and in beholding her, she did plainly perceiue by the de­licatenesse of her face that shée was a woman. There the Qu [...]ene of Lira did take her leaue of them, and returned the way from whence she came, and came into a village in the countie of Tirol, whereas she did take her rest all that night. When the morning was come, and she in a readinesse to trauaile, she tooke her way towards Hungary, with determi­nation, not to make any stay, till she came into Grecia, whe­ther as she came in the ende of her great trauaile, without any other aduenture happening, and alwayes hauing in re­membraunce the Knight of the Braunch. So one day very early in the morning at the breake of the daye, she entered into a very faire forrest, very nigh vnto Constantinople, and at such time as the Sunne would extend his golden beames, she saw lying vnder a tree, a very big and well made knight, who was a sl [...]epe, and his shield did hang vpon a trée, and thereon she saw the deuise of the knight of the Braunch, the which b [...]eing well marked by the Quéene, she vnderstoode, that he which lay ther a sléepe, was the owner of that shield and the Knight whom she sought for. And nigh vnto the shield was his speare, set vp against a trée: and looking a­bout her to see if he had anye companie, she sawe within a small distaunce from him a Ladie likewise a sléepe, and by her a Page, and therewith she was fully certified, that he was the same Knight that shée looked for. So there shee was a good while, beholding his gentle disposition and sta­ture, and graue countenaunce, till such time as she did de­termine to doe that, which in the chapter following shall be tolde you.

¶How the Knight Poliphebo and the Queene of Li­ra had cruell battaile, and of all that happened therein. Cap. 31.

[Page 331] AFter that this faire Matron had with great deliberation beheld this warlike Tinacrian vpon the gréene grasse a sleepe, she determi­ned with the great ende of her speare, to touch him vppon his armed breast, y^t which was no sooner done, but he awaked & star­ted with the sodayne calling of him out of his sléepe: but ope­ning his eyes, and séeing before him that bigge and well set Knight, with a trice he arose vpon his féete, and in great hast he laced on his healme, and tooke his shield from the place wheras it hung, he did well show in the great hast he made in besturring himselfe, the great liuelinesse of his courage. The Quéene when she sawe him all in a readinesse to the battaile, with a gracious laughter sayd. I would neuer haue thought that there had bene so great an ouersight in a knight and especiallye of such fame, that so without all feare of a great number that cannot abide them, but procure all euill possible against them, that without all care in the high way doth put himselfe to sléep. The Tinacrian answered, and said: There was not in me so great ouersight, as in you care, to venture your selfe, whereas you shall receiue little profite of the same. And doth it séeme vnto thée, that I was ouerséene therein? Possibly thou wilt iudge the contrary, if thou wilte proue the strength of my arme. It cannot but be very much, if it be conformable vnto thy ouersight, saide this faire La­die, and beléeue me that it woulde gréeue me to make anye proofe, if there be in thée so great vertue, as thy fame dooth beare the report. Therefore take to thée thy horse, and let ei­ther of vs procure to make his defence, and héere I doo ad­uise thée, that I am none of the Knights that hethertoo thou hast proued in Grecia. In the mean time that she was saying these words, the Tinacrian did very much behold her, and al­though he was verie angrie at the wordes which she had spoken▪ yet he sayde. Well séeing it is so, that thy follye doth so much constraine thée to make a controuersie without any occasion, tarrie, and thou shalt sée, howe I was wont to pu­nish such foolish people as thou arte, and so in great hast hée [Page] called for his horse, which was straight waye brought vnto him by Macedonio, and without putting foote into the stir­roppe, he leaped into the saddle, and tooke his speare in his hand, & without replying any other thing, that valiant Tina­crian presently withdrew himselfe backe, and tooke of the field that part which was néedfull for him. The lyke did the Quéene, and at one time returned their light horses, and in great hast they stroke their horses with the spurs, without all pitie, and with extreame furie, they made the incounter vpon their shéelds, that their speares shiuered all to péeces, and passed along with their course without any stay of their bodies, or mouing in their saddles, and turned aboute their horse with great lightnes with their swords in their hands. The Quéene stroke the first blowe at the Prince, that shée made the sparkes to flye out of his helme, and the Prince to decline his head to the saddle bow, who with great lightnes did settle himselfe againe in the saddle, and did cleare him­selfe from the second blow, which was readie to be dischar­ged vpon him: & putting himselfe on the one side, he stroke her such a blow vpon the helme, that it made a great sounds throughout all the fields and craggie mountaines, and shée fell backwards vpon the horse crouper with her heade: but very quickly she arose vp againe, and settled her selfe, and with great yre she layd fast holde vpon her sword, to strike her enimie, whom she did not finde idle, but rather began to assault her with blowes of mortall battaile. Such blowes was stroke betwixt them, that with the least they thought either of them to make an ende of that controuersie. At this time, there came that way a Knight, who was armed with very rich armour. This was that strong and mightie Bru­faldoro, who if you doo remember, with y^e mightie & strong blow giuen by the Tinacrian, remained all alongst the floore in his galley without remembrance. And when he came vn­to himselfe, with his accustomed brauery, he would followe that way which the barke went: but calling to remembrance the great trauaile and sorrow in the which his Lady was, loue did there constraine him to follow his owne iourney. [Page 332] And when he came thether, he vnderstood that Poliphebo had set her at lybertie, and caried her with him, towards the Al­maine Court: & by the way that he trauailed, he met with people which did tell him of all that had happened, and all signes and tokens of the Knight that carried away his La­dy, and by them he did vnderstand that he was his enemye: then he left his owne armour, and armed himselfe with that which was Bramarants, and followed that way which was tolde him he went. The fame was such, that this Tinacrian left behinde him, that wheresoeuer he came, or wheresoeuer he went, he alwayes had newes which way he trauailed, vn­till that time, that he came & found him in battel with that worthy Quéene, where he staid to behold a battaile so well fought. At length he knew him very well to be the Knight that brought him into so great extremitie: and looking a­bout him on them that were beholding the battaile, amon­gest the rest he knewe his louing wife: and although his ioye was very great in séeing of her, yet the wrath and ire that he had against the Knight was so much, that without saying any word vnto the Quéene his wife, he went toward them that were in battaile, and with his sword drawen in his hand, he put himselfe before the Quéene and sayde. I doo desire thée gentle Knight that thou wouldest rest and take thine ease, and let me alone with my strong arme take re­uengement of this knight, vsurper of my louing wife, and a robber of my fame and honour, and without any other de­tainment, he went against him for to strike at him mortall blowes. But then that worthy Gentlewoman with great anger said.

Stand away Knight, and let me make an ende of that I haue begun, and offer no wrong vnto them that doo knowe how to make their their demaund vnto thy cost: and there­with she put her selfe before him. But this furious Pagan with the great desire he had to make his reuengement tur­ned and put himselfe before the Queene striking at the Ti­nacrian mightie & strong blowes, who did not much maruell [Page] neither at the one nor at the other, but assaulted the Pagan with a meruailous mightie blow. The Queene at that time did put her selfe before him againe, and vpon her was exe­cuted that blow vpon the left shoulder, which did grieue her very much, as it appeared by her outward countenaunce. At this time the Pagan put himselfe againe formost: then this furious Lady with her sword all aloft, said. Keepe thy selfe backe, thou vile Knight, and of base linage, and let me make an ende of this that I haue begun, before that the potencye of my arme, doo ouerthrow thy great pride. Stand thou back sayde the Pagan, for it is my right to take vengeaunce on this euill Knight, for that he doth carry my Lady robbed from me. In these words which was spoken, the Tinacrian did know the other to be y^e king of Mauritania, who brought him in so great extremitie at the beginning of his Knight­hood, for the which he was very full of yre and wrath, inso­much that a thicke smoke came forth at his beauer. At this time came vnto that place Don Claridiano of the speare, the light of all Knighthood, who was armed with his purple ar­mour, and as I haue told you, he departed out of the Empe­rors pallaice in great secret. And when he saw the great cō ­tention that was betwixt those knights, being very desirous to know the occasion, he put himselfe betwéene them, and de­sired them to leaue off that battell. The furious Pagan an­swered: thou knight, put not thy self to vnderstand any mat­ter before thou art called: for if thou dost, possibly thou shalt beare part of that, which this vnfortunate knight dooth owe me. Then Claridiano said: I know not wherein he should be indebted vnto thée, but rather I doo vnderstand that thou art he that hath least reason, for that the other knight of the branch, was the first that begun this battaile. First he did to me the griefe, sayd the Pagan, before the other. For that I gaue vnto him the order of knighthood, and after that I had giuen it him, he did defie me in mortall battaile: & not con­tent héerwith, he hath robbed me of my Ladye which thou dost sée yonder. To these words the Tinacrian answered and said. Thou liest like an euill knight, for y^t I haue not robbed [Page] her, but I haue deliuered her from that place, from whence thou with all thy power wert not sufficient to deliuer her: & for thy falshood, thou shalt not carrie her away without mor­tall battell. This furious pagan when he heard himself so ill spoken off, like a Lion he went against him: but that stoute Dame did put her selfe before him, and said. Stand back then Pagan & importunate diuell, for first thou shalt haue to doo with me, or els thou shalt let me make an ende of my pre­tence. This braue Tinacrian like a furious Lion, said vnto y^e Gréeke Prince: Curteous knight, I pray you to stand backe somewhat and let me alone with them both, for that I doe estéeme both of thē but a little. And with loude voice he said: Come, come against me thou Pagan king, & of little valour, & take in companie with thée that other arrogant foole as thou art, for that of both you together I do meane to set an agrée­ment with y^e strength and force of my indomable arme. Then Claridiano sayd, it shall not be so, but first procure to cléere thy selfe of him with the branch, and I will set thée at liber­tie of the pagan. And therewith he drew out his sword, and stroke him such a blow, y^t he made him to tremble & remain as one amazed: and séeing him in y^e case, he stroke him ano­ther blow vpon the beuer, that he made the pagan to grype fast about his horse neck to kéepe himselfe from falling. But this Moore came quickly again to himselfe, and with a furi­ous courage he stroke him vpon the left sholder such a blow that it made the Gréeke to shrinke in his body, and to stoope downe to his saddle bow, with y^e great griefe that he felle, & giuing a terrible grone, he lift vp his sword, & stroke the pa­gan a blow vpon y^e helme, that the sparks of fire flewe into the aire, and almost without remembrance, he fell down vp­pon his horse crupper. The pagan comming again vnto him selfe, puffed out at his beuer a thick smoke, & threw his shéeld at his back, and stroke the Gréeke so terrible a blowe, that without all remembrance, he fell forwards vpon his horses eares, who carried him a while vp & down y^e field: but pre­sently he came againe vnto himselfe, & séeing y^t he was so ill intreated, he tooke his sword in both his hands, & set spurs to [Page] his horse side, that he made him to run lyke vnto the winde, so that he was straight with the Pagan, and stroke him such a blow, that it semed a whole tower had falne vpon him, and hauing no power to the contrary, he fell vpon his horse neck without anye feeling: who being scarred with that terrible blow, with a swift course carried his master from his enimy. In all this time was not the Tinacrian nor that faire dame idle: but when they saw the battaile begun betwixt the two Knights, with great furie they returned vnto their battaile, and for that the Tinacrian was full of anger, he threwe his shéeld at his backe, and stroke at the Quéene so mightie a blow & with so great fury y^t he made her to fall downe vpon the buttock of her horse without any remembrance, who ca­ried her a while round about the field. The Quéene came quickly againe vnto her selfe, so wrathfull, that she had no other thought, but to take reuengement on her enimie, and throwing her shield to the grounde, she tooke her sworde in both her hands, & stroke her horse with the spurres, that she made him run like vnto the winde, & with a trice shée was with the Tinacrian, and stroke him so vppon the healme that with the fire which slew out thereat, he lost his sight, & this valiant young Knight fell backwardes vppon his horse crupper without any féelyng, who carried him vp and down the field, which when the Lady saw, she would haue finish­ed the battaile, with another rigorous blow. At this time it so fell out that the horse of that valiaunt African with his master, did likewise runne about the field, the which was the occasion, that the Gréeke might behold all that passed, and with a trice he was with them & sayd. Withdraw thy selfe for that it is not the part of heroycall Knights to pursue and follow them that are without remembrance. The Lady who was very angry, gaue the Gréeke for aunswere, a furious blow, but straight way she was paid again with y^e like: wher betwixt them began a new battaile. In the meane time the Tinacrian & the Pagan were come againe vnto themselues, & setled in their saddles, & either of them looked about for his aduersary, whom they beheld in mortall battaile. And they [Page] two being together, which did hate each other deadly, made no reckoning of their late enimies, but assalted one another very furiously and strongly. All this was great profit vnto the Quéene of Lira, for that the Tinacrian was so mightie & furious, that she should haue bene in great perill. I cannot tell you who was more furious of these two warriors, but I can say this, that Claridiano was verye sore wounded and ouercome, as héereafter shall be tolde you, in such sort, that no medicine might auaile to helpe him. Thus they indured foure houres without taking any rest, fighting more fiercely then at the beginning. And being in this controuersie, to­wardes the parts next the sea side, they saw comming Rosi­cleer, and that stout Troyan, and the Prince Meridian, who séeing the battaile, did stay to behold them. Rosicleer knew straight wayes the armour of Bramarant, who seeing them in the power of another, was very full of wrath, and with­out any more tarrying, he put himselfe in the midst among them, and with a furious voyce he sayd. Tell me knight, who made thée so bold to take this armour, from the place wher­as I put them for a Tropheo and remembraunce. The Pa­gan aunswered him and said: Superbious and proud knight, art thou by fortune one of those Gréeke Princes, who with great threatenings dost defende this armour. I am one of them said Rosicleer, and he that will take away thy life for thy boldnesse, and therewith he drew out his sword for to as­sault him: but the Tinacrian did put himselfe before him & said with great curtesie as vnto his elder brother. Knight & prince of Grecia, let not your highnes do me so much wrong, to hinder me from being reuenged on this Knight, let mee alone with him, for that I haue so much hope in y^e strength of my arme, to giue a good accompt of him. Therefore I doo desire thée to stand a little a side. Rosicleer woulde haue aunswered him, but vpon a sodaine he saw comming from the parte of Pireo, a Knight; armed with russet armour, gar­nished with stripes and barres of golde, his shield was like­wise Russet and there was painted on it, the God Cupide with two faces.

[Page]This was that valiant Eleno prince of Dacia, who séeing the controuersie betwixt those three knights, passed forwards on his way, saying vnto Rosicleer without looking vpon his ar­mor and deuice: Knight thou doost wrong to disturbe them them that first began the battell. But Rosicleer with y^e great anger and wrath he had to sée that armor in a strangers po­wer, did not beholde the deuice of his Cousin, and so being both blinde, without anie consideration, they assaulted one another in mortall battaile. This Dacian was not slothfull in drawing out of his sword, and to returne his salutation. At such time as from that part of Grecia, there appeared a great number of Knightes. But now my pen waxeth we­rye, and my afflicted spirits doth constraine me to make an end of the second part of this historie: for that with a new courage, I may haue time to translate the third part, which is full of prowesse and valiant déedes. Beginning from the battaile whereas we left Rosicleer, in the Iland whereas hée set Meridian at libertie from a furious Giant, as hath bene tolde you. And in the second of Don Eleno of Dacia, and by what aduenture he came into this place, whereas he shal end this his new begun battaile. Therfore I doo request thée gentle Reader, that if in these two books thou hast receiued any contentment to desire thée Muses to aide, helpe and suc­cour me, and not to leaue me, that I may bring vnto lyght [...]he deedes and glorious end of these Princes and Knightes, with the loue of Claridiano, and Rosaluira. O Calliope with thy aide and helpe, I will not staye my hande, till such time as I haue declared all the whole déeds and pollicie vsed in these their feates of armes, for that by all reason I am bound to conclude the same.