TO THE RIGHT WORSHIP …

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFVL AND HIS APPRO­ued good friend, Maister Frances Young, of Brent-pelli­am, in the County of Hertfort, Esquire: and to the most kinde Gentlewoman, and my Mistresse, Susan Young, his louing wife, and my Mistresse: as much happinesse wisheth, as their owne hearts can desire.

SHould I (right worshihful) as flatterers are woont to doe, set downe a Cata­logue of your commendations, and en­ter into a Laborinth of loue toward you, I know your wits so good, that you would quickly espie it, and I confesse mine owne nature such, as I hartily hate. My present purpose then at this time, is neither to rehearse your many stinde fauours, which I knowe you rather loue priuately to enlarge, then listen publikely to heare laide open; nor report mine owne vnthankfulnes, which I am sorie hath beene so much, yet you will for­get, although it were farre more: bui as a dutifull remem­brance of both these, though not able to be shadowed in one subiect, yet sufficient (in your conceits I know) being but in part acknowledged, I send you this honou­rable Historie of Prince Palmerin of England, which cost mee no more paiues in writing, then I hope it will be pleasing to you in reading.

The Epistle

This first part is but to relish your tast, how yee can like of such worthy Knights loues, and memorable ad­uentures, whereof at my last being with you in the Coun­trie, I sawe yee vse no mislike. Then finding such gentle entertainment, as I make no question of, the second part shall bee with you very speedily after. So committing your worship, and my sweete Mistresse your wife, to the heauenly protection, I remaine yours to my vttermost. ⸪

A. Munday.

TO THE LADIES AND GENTLE­VVOMEN OF ENGLAND, THE Authour wisheth such a courteous moderation in iudgement, that his labours be not hasti­ly reproched, nor hatefully receiued.

AMong the best choyse of flowers (faire La­dies) all are not sweet: where is most varie­tie of Medicine, some are not soueraigne: so amongst all the conceits you shall finde in this Booke, all are not pithie, though the most pretie. When the Lion roareth, the Lamb trembleth, when the Captaine taketh his Lance, the Coward ferareth his life, e­uen so, the brauery of the learned is so great a blemish to him that hath little, that he feareth to proceede, not daring to step a foot without a pardon. Such are the ingenious inuentiōs (right noble minded and courteous Ladies) so plentifully sent to your perusing, that (were it not the bountiful respect of your gentle iudgements, did assure me to taste of your friendly fauour) I should conuert my studies into so great despaire, as the verie thought were sufficient to kill him that dieth euery houre, fearing displease. But as mercy doth alway accompany your no­ble sexe, and mildnesse represse any cholerick chance, so know I, that rigor cannot dwell, where is no desire reuenge, but as of all men are faultie, I shall be forgiuen for company.

Your most bounden by du­tie, A. M.

In lucubrationes. A. M. Epigramma.
R. W.

VT legi, placuit, nec enim placuisse mireris,
Nam (que) tuum nomen, fronte libellus habet;
Laudo animum, cupio (que) tibi sint saepe labores.
Grati: suecumbas ne mala verba ferens.
Nomines Indoctos, doctos (que) reuoluera scripta,
Indocti (que) cito fulmen ab ore venit.
Sed tu perge tamen, tipis ornare libellos
Persoluent sumptum gloria fama decus.
Quaeso feras, animo, patienti me tibi calcar
Addere currenti: sum tuus, esto meus.
R. W.

THE FIRST PART OF THE NO LESSE RARE, THEN EXCELLENT AND stately History, of the famous, and fortunate Prince Palmerin of England.

CHAP. I.
How Don Edward sonne to Fredericke king of England, hauing obtained in marriage faire Flerida, daughter to the Emperor Palmerin of Constantinople, returneth home againe into England, and going on hunting, lost himselfe in the vnfortunate Forrest of great Brittaine, by pursuing an inchated Bore, which brought him to the Castle of the Giant Dramufiande, where he remained Prisoner a long time.

AFter that Don Edward sonne to the aged Fredericke king of England, had finished his long desired marriage with Flerida, daughter to the renowned Palmerin d'O­liua, Emperour of Constantinople, (not onely to his owne good liking, but also to the content of his friends and familiars) he tooke his voyage from the Empire of Greece (as it is at large mentioned in the booke entituled Primaleon of Greece) to­ward the realme of England, accompanied with the Princesse Flerida his espoused Lady, beside, a traine méete to attend on [Page] so puissant a person as the Prince was. Being arriued at the English Court, to the no little ioy of the Knights Father, and great delight of his kinsfolke and friends, they were welcom­med as beséemed their royall estates, and ioyfully receiued to their hearts content. It chaunced in short space after, the Princesse Flerida waxed great with childe, a thing of no small comfort to the aged king, nor of little pleasure to the young Prince.

Now is the tediousnesse of their trauaile, the weari­some labour of their long iourney, cleane cast out of remem­brance, as of no account, and the ioyfull Prince Don Edward deuiseth each dainty delight, and each gallant attempt, that either might procure the Princesse to pleasure, or by any meanes giue her occasion of pastime. And for because the pin­ching pangs, which alway frequentetth one in her case, might either cause doubt of her good deliuery, or daunger in her well doing, (her person being somewhat ouercharged with sicke­nes) the young Prince was as carefull in preuenting such ill chaunce, as circumspect in prouiding to shunne any such chaunge. Leaning the Court, he walked with her in Pro­grace through the Forrest of England, for that he supposed the sight of the spreading Trées, and pleasant passages through the grassy groues, would be an occasion of the vnminding her former fits, and driue out of memory the sudden assaults that were incident vnto her féeble nature, vsing himselfe very plea­santly, and calling himselfe Iulian, the more to encrease her mirth.

All this while remained the aged King in his Pallace, where the English Prince being armed, cast his eyes on the portrait of Gridonia, hauing by her side a Lion, and a ten­der infant, the sight whereof was of such maruailous esti­mation in his conceiued thought, both by the shew of beau­tie he held, and shape of bountie he iudged in her, that hée abandoned his naturall Countrey, to trie his good fortune a­gainst the couragious Knight Primaleon. For the more cer­taintie whereof, you may at large peruse the effects of his [Page] valiancie, in the discourse of his memorable aduentures, and concerning the fortunate procéeings which passed betwéene them aswell the prowesse of the one, as valure of the other: I must needes say it was such, and of so great authoritie, as it bare the title of perfect magnanimitie. But returne we to our mat­ter.

The Princesse Flerida perceuing the courteous care, and diligent endeuour, that her royall spouse Don Edward vsed for her greater delight, so louingly labouring to auoyde that motion, that either might séeme to her person displeasant, or by any sinister meanes to make shew of her disprofit, destred him to appoint such prouision for her, that there she emight discharge her heauy burthen, and not to depart before she sawe the fruits of her labours. To which reasonable request, the Prince right courteously consented, being right glad to ful­fill that occasion, that might be to her content, and for that cause as yet he refused the gouerning of the kingdome, appoin­ting the whole affaires thereof, to the wise discretion of King Fredericke his father, vntill such time as he saw the Prin­cesse in better estate of her health. And in this order sought he ech vnfrequented place of passage, and eche solitary habita­tion, to remooue his Tents when pleased the Princes, dée­ming those places to his better content, then the youthfull de­lights of the King his Fathers Court. But as the fayrest colours soonest fadeth, the freshest flowre, soonest withereth, and the cleerest day quickly cloudy, euen so the man to whom Fortune dooth anouch most fréendlinesse, is soonest intrapped by he dissembling falshood: and when least he thinketh of any secret doubt, he is deceiued by sudden daunger. So this valiant and renowned Prince, whom Fortune had encoura­ged by his admirable conquests, and aduaunced his name in respect of his Noblenesse, new reclaiming her former and woonted courtesie, causeth him to taste her present crueltie, and where before she helde his Honor as best woorthie her fa­uour, now in a chollericke humor breaketh of her fréendship, causing him to knowe, though she had holpen him long, [Page] she was now minded to hurle him downe at last. The time be­ing come of her appointed treacherie, and the meane deuised to accomplish her crueltie, shée caused Don Edward to leaue the company of the Princes Flerida, and all other his Lords and Ladies who were there present with her, and walketh to the Sea side, which was not farre distant. Returning a­gaiue. hée caused the tents to be pitched foure miles from the Forrest, on a pleasant gréene platte, by a little running riuer, which delighted the minde of the Princesse, the place was so fine and fitly chosen out. On a sudden there was heard a great tumult, in a thicket of trees neare adioyning, to sée what it might be, the Prince mounted on Horsebacke, and rode to the place, where casting his eyes aside, hee espied a wilde and mighty Bore, which sight the Prince was not a little glad of, but with diuers of his noble Lords, made present pursuite af­ter. Don Edward still rid after the game, that the other had quite lost the sight of him, which they sought againe to reco­uer, but all was in vaine, for the day being cleane spent, and waxing somewhat darke, caused them to retyre againe to the Princesse. Who séeing her Lord Don Edward not returne with them, fell into great dismaying, and doubting of his safe­tie, which she had iust cause to doe, for that this his sudden de­parture, was greatly lamented through the Realme of Eng­land, and all kingdomes in Christendome, before they had his presence againe.

The strayed Prince, being thus allured by Fortune, affec­teth his game with such great delight, that he neuer minded the Princesse distresse, but gaue himselfe wholly to his present pastime, not fearing for foreséeing what might be the perill. His Stéede with tediousnesse of trauaile, waxeth stract in his limines, which caused the Prince to stay and alight, for the darkesomnes of the night had lost his game, and the fayning of his Horse, required to haue rest. Don Edward resting him at the foote of a Trée, beganne at last to call to minde, the deso­late estate of the Princesse Flerida, and the griefe his Lords would conceiue for want of his company. Faine he would haue [Page] slept, but could not, for still the doubts that assailed his mind, one while for the Princesse, another while for his Péeres, first to thinke how his absence, would cause her to iudge some­what of his vnkinde dealing, then how his Lords would stand in feare of his danger: these, and a thousand more trist­full terrors, with held him from receiuing that swéet rest, he gladly looked for. Alas (thought he) how hard is his hap to whom Fortune is aduerse? how contrary his good lucke that a­waiteth her liberality? the one is a thing euer to be doubted, and the other ought at no time to be desired. The night is spent in these and such like cogitations, and at the appearence of the day, his eyes began to waxe heauy, as commonly it happeneth vnto those, whom conceiued sorrow denieth the required rest, at last very griefe of it selfe constraineth them to slumber. This carefull Prince, hauing obtained such quietnesse, as the extre­mitie of his paine would permit him, stretching forth his armes, calleth againe into question, the retchlesse regard he had of himselfe, so lighly to leaue his Lady, and so vngently to forsake his company, which although it happened against his will, he iudged they would not accept it so in worth. Then mounting vpon Horsebacke, rode on to finde his company, so vnaduisedly lost, but Fortune still denying his pretended pur­pose, by how much he estéemed himselfe néere to his comfort, by so much the farder of she set him to the contrary, yet ha­sting on in hope, at last he arriued in a great Groue of Trées, the thicknesse and height whereof, caused him to fall into ad­miration with himselfe. Through this graue ran a faire and cleare Riuer, wherein he perceiued the resemblance of a Gallant and curious Castle, as strongly fortified, as rarely edified, the sight whereof, somewhat asswadged the egernes of his gréefe, likewise, the pleasant ratling of the gréene leaues, with the mellodious harmony of the pretty chirping Birds, exiled the former heauines of his heart, and caused him to re­member the gladsome time, wherein he spent his labour, to gaine his best beloued, during the warres of the Emperour Palmerin, where first he named himself Iulian. In these plea­sant [Page] conceits, hee rid along by the Riuer side, so rauished with his inwarde delight, that he little suspected the immi­nent daunger, for vnto that place did he chéefest frame his de­sire, which Fortune had appointed to worke his distresse. Don Edward beholding the braue scituation of this Castle, so curi­ous in workemanship, and costly in outward resemblaunce, the Bridge at entring whereof was so large, yt foure knights might easily haue Combatted thereon, no lesse insued at his suddē arriual, then he meruailed at this his strange aduenture. The Porter of the Castell, with double diligence, more then deserued thankes, set open the gate to allure him in, which the Prince perceiuing, misdoubted no daunger, or any secret guile in his gallant prospect, because he neither sawe any to resist his entrye, and the Porter being vnarmed made him doubt the lesse. It last, more on a youthfull courage, then an aduised care, he aduanced himselfe to the Gate of ye Castle, desiring to know the name of so pleasant a place, & who protected a thing of such force. The Porter not to learne his lesson, but smoothely co­louring his secret craft, to the good lyking of the Prince, and furtheraunce of his Ladies pleasure, cunningly coyned this gentle reply. Sir (quoth he) my selfe am a seruaunt, to her who likewise to your person oweth seruice, and if you please to enter the Mansion of your Vassaile, what wanteth in cost, shall excéede in curtesie, and your selfe satisfied to your farder content. The Prince regarding the circumstaunce of his woords, and not respecting the collusion of his wyles, aligh­ted, and presently entred the Castle, where with humble duty he was conducted to the great Hall, and serued with humility in euery respect. The Lady of the Castell, who was chéefe in this deuise, hauing woone the man, whome most she made ac­count, of, to cause him as yet to dread no doubt, or else to feare any ensuing daunger, came and welcommed the Prince with such large protestations, as his thoughts were quite absent in thinking of any perill. The Prince well noting the curte­sie of the Lady, (whose comely countenaunce and gallant be­hauiour, not onely gaue a shew of singuler modestie, but also bare the face of apparant honestly) perswaded himselfe, that all [Page] the commendations in the world, were not of sufficiencie, to requite her great gentlenesse. For being so brauely ga [...]ded with gallant gentlewomen, and euery one at becke and call with dutifull humilitie, hee rather déemed her a second Lucrecia, then doubted her to be a dissembling Lais, rather one that re­garded fidelitie, then in such sort to intrap him by flattery. But as the sweetest Rose is not without his sharpe prickell, or the finest Veluet but hath his bracke, so vnder the smoothest coun­tenance, is soonest found deceite, and in the fayrest talke, to bée the foulest treason. And there was a trustie Damon, so was there a trothles Damocles, as there was a faithfull Laelius, so there was a flattering Aristippus, happy may he be that findeth a friend, which preferreth the honor of his faith, before the hor­ror of falshood, more accounting of the welfare of his friend, then any thing else in his wordly affaires. But to returne to y prince who made great account, of his so gentle entertainment, and e­steemed wel her friendship that she handled with such dexterity, which to gratifie with thankes, he entred into this discourse.

Lady, if this sudden motion doe strike me into a maze, & your sacred manners, inforce me to muse, impute the one to the rare perfection of your beauty, and iudge the other, as the rash pre­sumption of my boldnes. First, your famous mansion did not a litle daunt me, & now the faire mistresse doth no lesse delight me the one excelling all in brauery, the other surpassing euery one in beauty. Wherefore good lady, if it shall like you to report, and licence me to request, let me vnderstand your name, and who is gouernour of this place. The Lady as one currant in her coy, conceytes, and not to learne how to vse Courtier, quickely sounded the depth of his desire, and as a skitfull pilot strooke Sayles against a storme, then taking Don Edward by the hand, she walked to the window, and shaped him this answere. Worthy sir, the great fame of your noblenesse doth wel deserue that title, & the sufficiēcy of your present behauior doth vrge me to vse it, the excuse of your boldnes ful well we allow, in respect of your bounty which we cānot mis [...]ike, for that the authority of your name, doth beare you out in the one. & the effects of nature doth braue you in the other. I would my beauty were so ample [Page] as might content such a Gallant, or my bounty sufficient to entertaine such a Guest. Letting that passe, I would the pro­portion which hath liked you to praise, were answerable in perfection or able to please. Touching your request, both this Castle and Gouernour thereof, resteth at your commaund to what you shall desire, and if it shall like you to accept of one nights lodging here, not for the good chéere you shall finde, but for your good company which we fancy, you shall be resol­ued in euery doubt, and to morrowe or when please you, you may depart. Don Edward perceiuing her courteous prof­fer, thought it stood with his honour to accept it, and against his honestie to refuse it, and while they were vsing the time in these and such like familiar spéeches, the Tables wre co­uered, and euery thing prouided to a braue and sumptuous banquet, which in cost excéeded, and in delicate fare surpassed, that in the King his father Court, he could not be more gal­lantly serued.

There Banquet finished, and the Tables withdrawen, courtesie on all sides artificially offered, he was conducted in­to a notable faire Chamber, the sumptuousnesse whereof sur­passed, where preparing him to Bedward, he conuayed his good Sword vnder his Pillowe, which Sword was of such great vertue, that while it was about him, no enchantment could preuaile, or by any meanes annoy him. Bearing in Bed, he called to minde the great distance of place, and diuersitie of passage, betwéene his beloued Flerida, and his sorrowfull selfe, which with many a grieuous sigh he often bemoned, but at length conuinced with heauinesse of sléepe, for that the night before he enioyed no rest, turned him to the wall, to receiue the charge which was toward him. The Lady of the Castle being maruellous séen in Magicke, and knowing by her Arte, that the Prince was sound asleepe, sent a Damosell to his Cham­ber to steale away his Sword, which while he had, she could not accomplish her desire.

The Damosell in all respects fulfilled her Ladies minde, and hauing brought it to her, she commaunded her to goe vnto [Page] her Couzin Dramusiand, and desire him with all spéede to haste him thither, for now he might take secure reuengement on the Prince Don Edoard, for the death of his father, who was slain by one of the linage of this noble young Prince. The Damosel went spéedily and did her message, returning with the young Giant whom the Lady sent for, and hauing vnderstood the full minde of his Aunt, entred the chamber of Don Edoard, where taking the sword of the Prince in his hand, brake foorth into these or the like spéeches.

Somtimes thou didst remain in the seruice of a man no losse famous then fortunate, who little knewes now that thou art in my keeping, but since my hap hath béene so good to gain thée, I dare auouch to make thée more redoubted, homaged & estée­med, then when thy Lord Don Edoard did gird thée about him so putting it vp againe into the sheath, he approched vnto the Bed, and spake in this order. Don Edoard, awake then cap­tine Prince, hath was thy hap to light in my hands, and fro­ward thy Fortune to approch this place, bid now adiew thy former delight, and content thy selfe to liue endles delleur, the court of England was sometime thy pleasure, but now this Castle of mine must be thy Prison, all the youthfull affec­tions, which were wont to be thy sollace, thou must forsake, & passe the remainder of thy dayes in sorrow. I rue thy case, but can giue thée no comfort, I sorrow to thinke on thy misery, and can giue thée no remedie: blood will haue blood againe, and cru­elty will haue the like rewarded, thou shalt féele the force of my chollericke moode, and by reuengement will bee so sharpe, as will be trebble griefe for thée to sustaine it.

The Prince being vanquished with a sudden feare, to heare the Giant vse such words of fury, put vp his hand where he [...] thought to finde his Sword, but failing of his purpose, he pre­sently sayd. In the greenest grasse lyeth the most deceitfull Serpent, and in the calmest waters the deepest whirlepoole: so in those places where aman thinketh himselfe farthest of all mishaps, he is soonest assayled by some sudden mischance. Well (quoth the Giant) though my anger doth vrge me vnto great impatience, and that I cannot brooke the open iniury done vn­to [Page] to mee, but am bent seuerely to reuenge me on thée and all thy Kindred, as my after dealings shall make manifest, to their great dishonour, yet will I kéepe thée, being first chaunced into my hands, that thou mayest witnesse to the rest my his displea­sure. As for thy life, I franckly and fréely giue thée, séeing the Kingly Lyon disdaineth to vaunt on his conquered Prey, and the Princely Eagle scorneth to stoupe to a Flye. Besides, thy life is not of sufficiencie in such a cause as this, beeing first the death of my Father, next, the distresse of my Friends, now, the present griefe of my selfe, and lastly, euer hereafter, to all my issue an eternall sorrow: which to appease, the life of one, no not of tenne, no, nor yet of an hundreth is able to make recompence, or suffice to quench my rigour. Neuertheles, in poore and meanest sort I minded to vse thee, not as thou list, and as I like, not to thine owne choyse, but as I shall finde occasion: so that to re­count thy posted pleasure, and also to thinke on thy present en­suing paine (though it be griefe to mee to vse it, and so harde thy hap, that thou canst, nor mayst refuse it) shall witnesse a world of miseries that thou art to abide, and the rarest Misfortunes, that euer man did taste.

This is thy lucke, and this is my law: this thy hard hap, and this my heauy hatred, as [...] thou departest, thou shalt sufficiēt­ly vnderstand, and by that time thou knowst, what and who I am, that haue this authoritie, thou shalt feele to thy greater woo my pretended iniurie. Hauing thus finished his talke, he caused him to bee carried into his strongest Prison, which was in the top of the Castle, and clapped a great pair of Gyues on his legs, minding in this furie, neuer while hee liued to take them off a­gaine. Don Edoard thus suddenly chaunged, from Princely pompe to present penurie, from the Court of his Father, to the Cabbin of his Foes, from the presence of his Ladie, to the loa­thing of his life, enclosed in a Castle so admirable, in a prison so vncomfortable, and in a Dungeon so dispaireable: closing his armes together, entred into these sorrowfull mo [...]es.

Oh poore Prince, is thy hope thou haddest of so great cour­tesie, and so soone chaunged into extreame crueltie? Didst thou credite faire wordes to be such troth, and now doest thou finde [Page] them, quite turned to treason? Alas, who sooner deceiued then the well meaning man? and who more quickly beguiled then he that means most honestly? Hath Fortune hetherto allowed thée honour, and will shee now leaue thée to taste this horror? hath all thy life hetherto beene spent in delight, and shalt thou now end thy dayes in this direfull distresse? Alas, then hast no helpe to the contrarie, wherefore thou must holde thée content, there is none néere to succour thée, wherefore suppe vp thy sor­row. Thy aged Father will misse thée, thy louing Ladie will lacke thée, and all thy Courtly companions will sorrow for thy want. And what of that? Bucephalus will stoupe to none but Alexander: and Mercuries Pipe will be scunded by none but Orphaeus: Euen so my proud soo may no wayes be intrea­ted, but either must be conquered in strength, or craftily decey­ued in sleights, which how farre my thought is from: deliuery, so farre from comfort is my poore oppressed heart.

O my déere Florida, when thou shalt call thy vnkindenesse into question, and my last departure from thy presence into a Womans opinion, I know the care will no lesse trouble thy minde, then my want of thy comfort causeth my miserie. Alas, though I haue thus left thee by follie, yet thinke not but I still loue thée faithfully: and although thy griefe (as I knowe) is great, for my losse, yet thinke not but my sorrowe putteth me to extremity of my life: in that this Prison so amateth me with sadnesse, as I am of opinion, neuer againe to sée you, without whose companie my life cannot long endure, but eyther to dis­paire vpon my hard Aduenture, or presently die in so sharpe an assault.

O inuincible Prince Primaleon, what griefe will you abide for losse of your brother? and what sorrow will you conceiue for your deare Friend: whose misfortune (I feare) will cause you leaue your Parents, and whose tryed friendship mooue you put your life in perill. Except the Soldan of Niqu [...]e, Maiortes, Gatterit, & the King Tranies, by their friendly perswasion, may otherwise determine your purpose. And though their méere Loue kéepe you at home, yet I thinke my mishap will enforce them to be sorry: So that some of them will endeuour to heare [Page] of me againe, although it be vnpossible to giue mee succour, ex­cept fauour may plead their cause wi [...]h the Lady of this Castle, whose crueltie I feare will no way be intreated. In these and such like rufull complaints, the Captiue Prince spent his time: vntill earnest opinion of his Ladie to be present with him, vr­ged him to breake foorth into these spéeches. Alas my good La­die, this cruell Prison is not cause of my death, but to sée your person accompanie me in distresse, when the Court were more méete to shrowde your séemely selfe, then this vncomfortable Dungion, for you to set foote in: Whose presence procureth so fierce an assault in my hart, that the feare of your safety is more to my perill, then a thousand torments might be to my paine.

Wherefore, good Ladie, content▪ yourselfe, and suffer mee to moane, blemish not your faire face with rufull teares for me: the one may endanger your prosperitie, and the other may no way be to my profite. Thus clasping his armes together, and en­tring into a farther conceit in his minde: I leaue the extremi­tie of his griefe, to those that haue tasted the like mishappe, that where before he was equal with any for good fortune, he is now aboue all, respecting his ill lucke.

CHAP. II.
¶In this Chapter is declared, why Eutrope the Enchaun­tresse procured thus the hard hap of the Prince Don Edo­ard, and what the Gaint was, that detained him Prisoner.

THe Hystorie doeth discourse vnto vs, how when the Emperor Palmerin of Constan­tinople, left his royall estate, to seeke aduenttures as a wandring Knight: that he ariued in England, accompanied with Trineus the Emperor of Allemaignes sonne, who for the loue of faire Agriola in the English Court, [Page] left his natiue Countrey, and behaued himselfe so valiant, that shée might esteeme him as one of her [...] fauored Knight. And in sooth, not to diminish his praise, or hold backe one title of his braue behauiour, the exploites both of him and the Emperour Palmerin (béeing both to most vnknowne) were such, as the King of England, with all his Courtly assistaunts, not onely commended their valure, but also gaue them entertainement, agréeable to their bounty and magnanimity. For he perceiuing that their daily endeuours, tended both to the safegard of their person, and honour of his whole Realme, gaue them that pre­ferment in Court, which they deserued in chiualry, and that ho­nour in name, which they both argued to haue in nature, whereby they were encouraged to attempt the hardest aduen­ture, and so be honoured in their knightly behauiour. In fauour of their Prince, and ioue of their Country, at length they obtai­ned the full issue of their enterprise: which was to haue with them the Prince Agriola, whom on a day, through leaue ob­tained of the King with the Queene her mother, they got leaue to walke into the field, not farre distant from the Court, accom­panied with diuerse Noble men, and Gentlemen, as you may reade more at large in the Historie of Palmerin d'Oliua, which faith, That sporting themselues there on the top of a hill, on a sudden (altogether vnlooked for) there came a Giant named Frenaque, well attended on with twentie fighting men: who perforce tooke the Queene and her Daughter Agriola from them, neither respecting the woefull meane of the Ladies, nor gentle entreatie of the knights, who had no defence to rescue them, nor companie inough to resist them: But at that time were more ready to vse a distaffe with Hercules, then a Speare with Hannibal, and rather required to handle a Lute in Venus Chamber, then lift a Launce in Mars his Campe, and for a sol­diers i [...]uniti [...]n, vsing sweete Parle with their Mistrisse, and their Ladies laps, for the hard lodging in the fielde. So bée­ing thus altogether vnprouided, lost the sum of their pleasure, and honour of their Knighthood. Palmerin and Trineus (who had béene with the King in walking) arriuing there, and hearing of this losse, encouraged them as wel as they might, offring them­selues [Page] to die, ere they would put vp this iniurie. So willing them all to prouide them presently, for that a rash encounter, might turne to an hard aduenture, they proceeded in pursuit af­ter the giant, and ouertaking him, behaued themselues so wor­thily, that he was slain by the hands of the Emperor Palmerin. Then the yong Prince Trineus, as well that his Lady Agrio­la might perceiue his hardnes, as also the Quéene her mother might giue his deeds commendation, so valiantly menaced his courage, that by the helpe of the other Knights, all the Giants traine were vanquished, so that the Quéene and her Daughter, had suffered no spot of dishonour by their crueltie, which great­ly they stood in feare of.

This Giant had a Sister named Eutropa, so cunning in Magicke, that neither Zoriastes, nor all the other Magitians, were in this deuilish Art comparable to her, by helpe where­of, she had knowledge of the death of her Brother, which ente­red so déepe into her heart, that shee vowed her reuengement should excéede this cruell mischance. And hauing in her Castell with her a Nephew of hers, and the Sonne of this Giant Fre­naque, named Dramusiande, by whom she meant to seeke her sharpe reuenge: shee tooke him in her armes, and entred into these rufull complaints. Ah swéete Nephew, albeit thou art fatherlesse, yet art thou not friendlesse, and though in thy tender time, Fortune hath framed thy mishap, yet espect a farder time, which my Art shall beginne, and thy manhoode finish. And he that hath thus cruelly murthered the Father, both hee himselfe, his lynage, friendes and familiars, will I persecute with ex­treame rygor. After these and such like speeches vttered, shee prouided to fortifie and make strong her Castell, least the King of England should seeke both the ruine of it, and destruction of the Giants kindred, when once it came to his eare the Trea­son shée pretended against him, wherefore, shée armed her selfe with all those of her kindred, knowing that to resist the power of a King, asked no smal defence. And for a further remedy, least worst should happen, she enchaunted the Forrest round about, so that none could enter her Forreste without her leaue, vntill such time as the yong Giant Dramusiande were able to beare [Page] Armor, and receiue the order of Knighthood. In processe of time, the young Giant grew able to beare Armor, and then his heart began to thyrst for reuenge of his Fathers death, the which to accomplish, hee was very desirous in Trauell to aduenture his strength, according as his heart desired.

But Eutropia perceiuing the courage of his minde, to excéed the strength of his person, de [...]iled him to stay his Iourney, and she would yéelde into his hands such a one on whom hee might sufficiently reuenge the death of his Father. Thus, and with these perswasions, she changed the minde of Dramusiande, vn­till the hard fortune of the Prince Don Edoard brought him to her Castell, where he entred without any daunger, for that his good Sworde, kept the force of all Enchauntments from him, but hauing lost it by her Diuellish deceyte, remained as I haue expressed in vnspeakeablie.

Leauing this matter, it shall not be amisse, to speake some­what of the state and condition of Dramusiande, who albeit he were a Giant, which commonly are of rough and impatient na­ture: yet was he indued both with ciuilitie of life, and honestie in behauiour, exempting crueltie, and surpassing all of his stocke and parentage in courtesie.

For after he had a long space kept Don Edoard in Prison, and not onely perceiued his Princely qualities, but also the so­brietie and great gentle [...] his life, hee caused his Fetters to bee taken from his féete, and gaue him leaue for recreation, to walke about the Castell, vppon condition, that hee would not séeme to passe beyond his limits, without his consent.

The courteous Prince, gaue him his hand and Oath, that he would not passe one foote further, then his Licence should per­mit: Yet notwithstanding for all that, he gaue charge vnto di­uerse to respect his walking abroade, in that hee respected his Aunte Eutropaes promise, which was, that many valiaunt Knightes, would Aduenture their liues in the searche of this strayed Prince, whome she doubted not but to haue also as Pri­soners in the Castell.

And against the comming thither of any such, shee caused to lye in Embush in the Forrest, a great number of Armed men, [Page] to aide Dramusiand against them, if his hard hap should misse of his purpose. Tssus passed the young Giant his time in plea­sure, and Don Eodard acqusinted himselfe with his former sorrowes, (as it chanceth vnto those, who of long time are kept from the sight of them they most desire) as well for the want of his espoused Ladie, as also the griefe the King his Father would conceiue for his ill luck. But yet the gentle pastime that Dramusiand would often vse with him, caused him to spend the time in pleasure, that else he would haue wasted in mour­ning. Thus leauing the captiue Prince in his forced content, we will returne to the Prince Flerida, whom we left in the Forrest, sorrowfully exp [...]cting the glad returne of her Lord Don Edoard.

CHAP. III.
How the Princesse Flerida, awayting the returne of her loy­al spouse Don Edoard in the Forrest, was deliuered of two goodly yong Princes: and how a Sauage man walking by her with two Lions, tooke them from her to feed his Lions withall. And of that which happened to sir Pridos, sonne the Duke of Galles, in his search of the Prince Don Edoard

WHile the Princesse Flerida, with no lesse griefe of mind, then agony of her whole person, remained in the Forrest, expecting that which came not, as well to abandon diuers chollericke humours, that ouerchar­ged her impatient mind, as also to exile the eger passions, which were still approching her weake nature, shee busied her selfe in gathering flo­wers, accompanied with the faire Attaida and diuers Ladies [Page] and Gentlemen, for that this time of recreation, was more cor­respondent to her good liking, then heretofore she could conceiue the opinion to like any. On a sudden, she fell into remembrance of her Lord Don Edoard, whose long absence she admitted to some misfortune, or else vngentlenesse in himselfe disdained her presence. In which of these resalue her selfe, shee was doubt­full: for that in the one she might conuict her selfe of rash beléefe, though in the other she might stand vpon good occasion. Be­twéene these cogitations she spent the whole day, yéelding her complaints likewise to the vncomfortable night approching: which indéed séemed to her more obscure, more griesly, and more despairable, then any night passed to her remembrance. So that vpon this hard motion, she fell into a resolute opinion, neuer to heare good tidings of her lord Don Edoard, for that the knights who had spent their labour in his search, were returned without any tidings.

The Lord and Ladies perceiuing these passions to be more extreame vpon her then any heretofore, beganne to cast with themselues whether they might depart and leaue her in these fits, or stay still with her, which was to their great griefe: at length they thus concluded, to abide the returne of the Duke of Galles, for whose absence likewise the Princesse was more a­gréeued then she would haue bene, had he bene present. This vncomfortable night gone, and the chéerefull deawes of Phoe­bus displayed ouer the earth, the duke of Galles returned a glad sight to the Princes, and no lesse ioy to her attendants, for that she hoped of wished newes of her Lord, and they to heare what was become of their Soueraigne. But their expectations were farre disappointed, for he was as ignorant of the Prince, as they which caused a fresh hurt vpon the olde griefe: neuerthe­lesse, he intreated the Lords to take themselues to trauaile, it might so fortune (he perswaded them) that they should haue bet­ter successe then he had. In the meanetime, he would abide with the Princesse to comfort her, for that she had vowed neuer to returne from thence, till shée had heard some tidings of her best beloued.

The noble Gentlemen, of no lesse loyaltie to their Prince [Page] Don Edoard, then loue they bare to the Princesse Flerida: ad­dressed themselues presently to fulfill this request. Among whome Pridos, eldest sonne to the Duke of Galles, and chiefe Gentleman attendant on the Prince, rode along the sea shore, where he mette with two of his companions, who likewise en­deuoured themselues in the search of Don Edoard, with whom he determined to returne, for that he was past hope of any good successe.

Neuerthelesse, to auoyd the euill conceit of the Princesse, and the angry moode of his aged father, hee left them, and rode on very solitary, sometime exclaiming on Fortune for his hard hap, and then againe blaming his solly, when he perceiued no remedie: In midst whereof, he brake forth into these, or the like spéeches. If it were méete for mortall creatures, to blame or inuey against their heauenly Creator, then both iustly, and by good reason, may I claime the like occasion, whose sorrow can not enioy one houre of succor, whose mone be admitted on halfe houre of mirth, or whose extreame griefe, but once taste the sa­uour of halfe a minutes rest. The Horse haung laboured all day, can take rest in his Inne at night, the little Bird, can com­fort her selfe on euery twigge: the Fish can sport and make pa­stime to himselfe in the Riuer: in briefe, euery creature enioy­eth a quiet and pleasant life, man onely excepted, who excel­ling all creatures, both in forme and feature, is inferior to them all in tranquillitie of life. So that surueying the whole course of mans life, both from the beginning and to the end, I will ad­mit the Phylosophers sentence.

Either neuer to be borne, or quickly to die.

A good while he continued these carefull complaints, & lon­ger would haue done, had not the presence of a Damesell caused him to forget them, who was mounted on a black Palfrey, and attired likewise in blacke garments, who comming still to­ward sir Pridos, made him somwhat amazed: yet took courage againe, in hope to be certified by her, of some glad [...]idings, as cō ­cerning the strayed Prince Don Edoard. The Damosel beha­uing her selfe very curteously, with no lesse audacitie of wit, then exquisste qualities of maiden ciuilitie: taking Sir Pridos [Page] Horse by the bridle, saluted him with these spéeches.

Sir Knight, if my presence doe argue a presumption, or my boldnesse to breake off your silent cogitations, seeme not May­denly in me, or more then modestie in your eye, let humble in­treaty passe for the one, and the tydings I bring, craue pardon for the other.

The paines you take are to very small purpose, and the griefe you ouerloade your minde withall, to as little auayle: for proofe whereof, giue eare to my words, which shall some­what ease your minde, and héere make an ende of my tra­uayle.

Don Edoard your Prince, whose noblenesse hath euer bene more famous, then his late aduentures hath proued fortunate, he liueth, yet depriued of his libertie, and captiue to him, whose anger will not be asswaged of long time, which he must stay to his griefe, & my sorrow. Wherefore, on thy knighthood I charge thée, to certifie the Princesse Flerida, how daungerous it is for her to vse such great impatience, as may cut off her time, yet not abate his troubles. And how she might manifest a princely magnanimitie of minde, in conquering this griefe, by valure of her patience, because Fortune is prepared to another mishap, which because it will happen too soone, I referre it to her that shall feele it, and to you that shall know it. And therefore giue her to vnderstand, her griefe is as needelesse, as his state is helpelesse, vntill the appointed time, when all extreame sor­rowes, shall finish with vnspeakable ioyes. And thus say, that Argonida sendeth her these tydings: to whom, her losse is as displeasant, as to her selfe.

The Damosell ending héere her Tale, gaue bridle to her Palfray, and left Syr Pridos: into whose remembraunce the knowledge of this Lady presently came. That shée was the Daughter of the Lady Enchauntresse, of the Isle where the Eagle rauished Ardesdegno, begotten by Primaleon, at the time when such excellent Tryumphes were made, after the Battayle fought against the Knight of the vnknowne Isle.

And of this Argonida, Don Edoard had a sonne, named [Page] Pompides, (as it is at large rehearsed in the Booke of Prima­leon) which I will let passe, and returne to sir Pridos. Who hauing well noted the tale of Argonida, returneth to the place where he left the Princes, and declaring vnto her all that had happened, shée became more sorrowfull then before, for that she desired nothing more then his company, which liuing she ought to haue, and yet he aliue could not haue. Her sorrowes tooke so déepe a perswasion in her heart, that immediately shée fell into labour, which the Ladies perceiuing, and the Gentlemen gi­uing place, as was their duetie, after many grieuous pa [...]gs (which are incident to those in that taking (she was happily de­liuered of two goodly men Children. The Ladie Atraida recey­uing the two young Princes, wrapped then in rich and costly clothes, & then preseuted them to the Princesse, holding opinion that the sight of them, would somwhat mitigate her great vexa­tion of mind, & she taking them in her armes, mixing her talke with teares, declaring motherly affection, thus said. Ah swéete Infants, I reioyce in so much as Fortune hauing wrought her malice vppon mée, yet that to you twaine shee hath attributed no disloyall accident, for more then she hath done, well shée can­not doe, respecting I haue lost a friend, and you a Father. How happie had I béene, if in bringing you twaine into the world, I had departed my selfe? Yet Nature vrgeth mee to recall my wordes, in that the Fathers absence, is appeased by the Mo­thers presence, and yet so sharpe are her assaults, that when I would hartily nourish you twaine, I am heauily brought into dismaying of my life.

Remaining in this heauie complaints, to the two young Children, such prouision was made, as they would be Baptized and she being demaunded how shee weuld haue them named, willed that the first might be called Palmerin, after the name of her Father, for that the effect of this misfortune, might bee well compared to his before passed. The other, for because they were borne in the Forrest, shée desired that his name might haue relation to the place of his birth, which was thus determi­ned, Florian du Desert, as much to say, as Florian of the For­rest. The Ceremonies accomplished, which were required in [Page] this matter: the Princesse receyued the two Infants vppon her lappe, one while with mournfull tunes to still theyr crying, au other while with the Teat to bring them asséepe, euer min­ding the harde misfortune of her Lord, and neuer ceasing to de­plore the miseries of her life, esteeming the one to excel all in hard happe, and the other to be aboue all in vnlooked for mischaunce. But as commonly it hapneth, no pleasure is without his paine adioyned, nor no quiet calme, but by some accident or other, is conuerted into a rough tempest: euen so this careful Princesse, whose extreame griefe and mishappe, added a perswasion of minde, that Fortune had done her worst, and executed her vt­termost spight: so that what wanted to accomplish her quiet, as concerning the absence of her louing Don Edoard, she determi­ned a resolute opinion, (albeit farre incomparable to her losse, yet as Nature willed her, by a forced content) to asswage her vrgent Passions, on the presence of the two young Princes: by whom in time she had good hope to end her griefe, and on whom as present occasion did serue, she was somewhat satisfied. But marke how vnkindely it happened.

In this Forrest of long time remained a Sauadge man, who not vsing the companie of reasonable Creatures, became vn­reasonable of himselfe: as the course of his life, being brutish and Beastly, his diet on the Hearbs and Rootes of the ground, his Apparell framed of the skinnes of wilde Beastes, shewed that he was a man in name, but not in nature. This Sauadge man, walking as was his woont, along the Forrest, leading in his hand a couple of Lyons, whome he vsed sometime to kill the Game, that would serue for his nourishment: vnhappily es­pyed the Princesse and her Traine, which mooued him to with­drawe himselfe into a thicket of Trées néere adioyning: where at pleasure he behold the Ceremonies, vsed at the Baptizing of the Children.

Nowe had Fortune determined the second mishappe of the Princesse: for that shee vrged the Sauadge man, to goe take the two Infants, who were sweetely sléeping on the Mothers lap, and giue them for food vnto his Lyons, that all that day had receyued no sustenaunce. Foorth from among the Trées hee [Page] coms, too the no little astonishment of the Princesse (whose sor­rowful minde, was subiect to any moytie of feare) and the great dismaying of her Courtly attendants: who at this presence of so grim a sire, betooke themselues to flight, not one receyuing the courage of hart to abide by the Princesse, but the Lady Attaida, who neuor shrunke one foote from her, but would haue aduen­tured the death in the Princesse defence, had her might bene an­swerable to her good stomacke. When the Princesse saw her­selfe subiect to so hard a mischance, that the old Duke of Galles, and all the other being vnarmed, were gladde to flie, which in­déede was their best help: shee wished for Sir Pridos, but hee was departed to London, to fetch a Charriot to bring her to the Court, which vrged her thus to content her selfe: Let it suffice thée poore Flerida, that thou art the only she, borne vnto all mis­fortune. Then approched to her the Sauadge man, and tooke from her the two young Princes, neyther vsing any words, or offering any harme to her, but departed presently to his Caue, leauing the Princesse ouercome with a traunce, whereout, the Lady Attaida by her diligent meanes recouered her.

CHAP. IIII.
¶How Syr Pridos being departed frow the Forrest, where he left the Princesse, came to the Court to the King Fre­dericke, and declared vnto him the losse of the prince Don Edoard: which was no small griefe to him, and all the Cit­tizens of London. And how the Princesse Flerida left the Forrest, and was brought to the Court.

AFter that Syr Pridos had séene the Byrth of the two Princes, hee resolued to departe from thence to London, to the ende that he might cause a Charriot bee brought into the Forrest, to conuey the Princesse vnto the Court of her father K. Fredorick. Who lea­ning in his chāber window espied sir Pridos [Page] come ryding in great haste, which caused him to cast a doubt, of some euill newes approching: in that he iudged a show of more sadnesse to be in him at that instant, then before time hee could perceiue in him the like. Whereof to be resolued, he presently sent for Syr Pridos, to know the cause of his so sudden arriuall: whose griefe could not conceale the losse of Don Edoard, but in teares laide open a discourse, which grieued the Aged King t [...] heare it, and galled his heart to recount it. The King at these vnlooked for newes, fell into such extreame passions, both with the teares that bedeawed his Aged bearde, and grieuous sighes that issued from his heart, that Syr Pridos could hardly kéep life life in him, or by intreaty vse any meanes of a patient perswa­sion, for the Aged King was stroken into such a debility of hope, that betwéene the impatient assaults of doubt and daunger, hee thus began to vse spéeche with himselfe.

O my Don Edoard, nature willes me to deplore thy losse, and intire affection makes me dye for thy lacke: whose presence was the staffe of myne Aged dayes, and whose absence is the Sword, that wounds me to the death. But as no Grasse will hang on the héeles of Mercurie, nor Mosse abide on the Stone Sisiphus, so no certaintie can be looked for at the hands of For­tune, whose sicklenesse is séene in chaunge, and whose froward­nesse in chaunce. Too long haue I trusted her, and too late hath shee deceiued me: the one my folly, the other her fashion. Yet doubt I not, but if thou enioy thy life, the substance of thy va­lure shall excéede the sharepnesse of her vengeance, which will be no lesse welcome to thée, then long wished of me. But alas, Well may [...] hide my griefe, but neuer heartily forget it: well may I awhile brooke it, but for no long time beare it: for that the want of my comfort, will cut off my dayes, and the doubts I conceyue bring mee in greater distresse, where if thou were present, my minde would be satisfied, and in spight of Fortune, award all mischances. While the King continued in this great agony of [...]inde, the Queene entred: who likewise vnderstan­ding the losse of her Sonne, began to adde another Stratageme of griefe, bewraying her motherly affection, both in teares and heauy complaints, which to appease, the aged King thus began. [Page] Madame, the honour of a noble minde, is tried in aduersitie, when as the extremitie of griefe, is conquered by patience of the minde. But the minde being impatient, and not kept within the lymittes of a moderate gouernment: the least Crosse that happeneth, is too waightie in paine, when the sence is farre too weake in reason. It pleased the Almightie to giue vs a Sonne, in whom wee receiued no little comfort, and by whome, our Fame hath béene Knightly aduanced. And now to trie how we can brooke a moitie of his displeasure, he hath caused some acci­dent to happen, to keepe him from vs, whom we most of all de­sired, yet not depriuing vs of hope: but as to our griefe we haue lost him, so to our comfort we shall see him againe. In meane time, let vs tollerate this sharpe affliction, on his two Prince­ly Children, who till we enioy the fight of the Father againe, shall with their noble Mother, comfort our sorrowes, and we also endeuour to abate their mones. So one with another shal beare an equall share of aduersitie, and be partners also in good Fortune, if any chaunce to happen.

Thus the King and the Queene remained, one while in a perswasion of patience, an other while wholy vanquished with the force of their griefe: whose Passions I referre to the iudge­ments of those, that haue tasted the honour of Fame, and ha­tred of Fortune. Returne we now to Syr Pridos, who in this time had caused his Brother to ride with a Chariot to the For­rest, that the Princesse might be brought to the Court, who be­ing placed in the Chariot, and ready to depart: Shee gaue so heauy a farewel to the place, as well for her Lord Don Edoard, as misfortune of her Children, that her attendaunts seemed as it were drowned in sadnes, to see the Princesse ouercome with such sorrowe. Being come to the Citie of London, the Citti­zens, who at her comming from Greece, did not onely excell in varietie of deuises, but also discouered their ioy in singular Tri­umphes: Now with a sorrowfull disposition, they bewrayed the terrour of their losse, and yet with an intermedled showe of ioy, to assage the dolor of the Princesse.

When she came to the Court, & perceiued the great chaunge, of woonted disportes, both in the King and Queene, as also in [Page] all the nobility, who likewise vnderstanding the mishap of the two young Princes, altogether begin a world of lamentati­ons. The king dismaying of any good hope, the Quéene dis­payring in double extremity, the Lords and Ladies, both in apparell and iesture, wholly exclaiming on the cruelty of For­tune. The Inhabitaunts throughout the whole Realme of England, whose delight was many times, to fit and conceiue maruailous opinions, of the no lesse Knightly, then famous ad­uentures of the Prince Don Edoard, nowe sit sighing, wrin­ging their handes, and pulling theyr bonnets ouer theyr eyes, vsing as it were in a generall voyce amongst them: Oh, none but we vnhappy.

The King hauing thus passed this night, in no lesse griefe of minde, then sickly assaults of his aged person, (the Quéene, and the Princesse Flerida, equally considered) on the morrow hée determined to send a Knight of his Court, named Argolant, Sonne to the Duke of Horten, and Brother to Traendos (who also had bin amourous of the Princesse Flerida) to the Emperor Palmerin, at Constantinople, to let him vnderstand the late misfortune of England. He being ready to depart, as he rode thorow London, the Stréetes were adorned with blacke, and the Citizens arrayed in black and mourning manner, bringing him to the Sea shore, where he tooke shipping and departed.

The Princesse Flerida became very féeble of person, insomuch that there was doubt of her good recouery: but God not suffe­ring her to ende, as shee willingly would, gaue her strength a­gaine by little and little, and comforted her selfe best, when she was foorth of all company, which caused many Knights to leaue the Court, & liue in search of the strayed Prince Don Edoard, who pitied her case, and his abscence. Thus remained fayre Flerida, as chast Penelope, to her absent Lord Vlisses: not fay­ling one iote in true and faithfull Loue, though shée dayly con­temned the aduerse estate of her life. And hee likewise fayled not in constant loyalty, but preferred the terror of death, before the falsifying of his faith to his Lady. Iustly fulfilling, that nei­ther distaunce of place nor extremity of Fortune, could part in sunder their mutuall coniunction of spotlesse amitie.

CHAP. V.
¶What the Sauadge man did with the two young Princes, how pittie vanquished the bloody tiranny, he was minded to execute on them. And how Argolant arriued at Con­stantinople, at what time the Emperour Palmerin was at the Triumphes, for the birth of faire Polinarda. Where de­claring his tidings, the Emperours Sonne Primaleon, pre­sently tooke himselfe to trauaile, beside diuers Noble per­songes, who followed in the search of the famous Don Edoard.

REturne we now to the Sauadge man, who as the History declareth, hastened to his Caue, with the two yong Princesse in his armes, his Wife there awaighting the re­turne of her Husband, hauing in her armes her owne childe, being about the age of one yéere. He bing come to her, presented her the two young Princes, declaring that all that day, hée had found no other Dinner for themselues and the Lyons, then those two Infauntes, whom hée wil­led might presently be dismembred in pieces, for that his hun­gry stomacke required to haue meate. The Wife, in whose heart motherly pittie, excelled Sauadge crueltie, for that in­deede, Women by nature, doe beare a more estimation of mer­cie, then is requisite in men: shée vsed such kinde perswasions with her Husband, as also finding the meane to prouide other necessaries for him, that she saued the liues of the Infants, and satisfied the hungry appetite of her Husband: so that louingly shée became theyr second Mother, and as carefully nourished them, as had they béene the fruite of her owne body. Where we will leaue them a while, to God and good Fortune: being not [Page] forgetfull of Argolant, whom we left sayling toward Constan­tinople. After so long being on the Seas, as is required in so long a iourney, he arriued at the famous City of Constantino­ple, on a Sunday morning, where he perceiued as gallant Tri­umphes in preparation, as were at the renowned mariages of Primaleon, and the Prince Don Edoard. The cause whereof was, for ioy of the birth of the Daughter of the Prince Prima­leon, whom the Emperor gaue to name Polinarda, in token that her beauty & good Fortune, should excell any Lady liuing at that day. In honour of this ioy, the Triumphes were proclai­med: which procured the assemblie of many noble personages, among whom, was Tarnaes the K. of Lacedemonia, Polen­dos, King of Thessalie, and Belcar the Duke of Duras: the pre­sence of these States, being no small honour to the Emperor, and Fame to the Court of Constantinople.

Argolant, attired all in blacke Armor, rode through the Cit­tie, and in short time arriued at the Emperors Pallace, where beholding the valiant behauiour, of each couragious knight, to winne honour in this Triumphe: with an heauie sigh he cal­led to memory, the vnlooked for sorrows of the Court of Eng­land, which was adorned with no lesse griefe, then was the Emperours Court with gladnesse. Which perswaded such an vnkinde conceite, in the heart of the gentle Knight Argolant, who estéemed the loyaltie of friendshippe, to serue as an especi­all remedy to the afflicted mind: that he feared his newes, were not of force sufficient, to chaunge theyr excéeding myrth, albeit his expectation was deceiued in that point. Then approched he the place where the Emperor sate at dinner, where with no lesse ciuilitie of iesture, then modest behauiour of personage, hée vayled his helmet, offering to kisse the Emperors hand, which might not be permitted, in that he was ignorant of whence hée was. Which he perceiuing, beganne in presence of them all, to declare his Ambassage, not forgetting the place and person, which in euery point hée handled with duetie. The Emperour well noting the sadde tale of Argolant, the misfortune of his Sonne Don Edoard, and heauinesse of the English Court, he withdrew himselfe frō the Table into his Chamber, where as [Page] patiently as his griefe would suffer him: he beganne to vse his spéeches in this manner.

I know not whether the Gods in granting me a prospe­rous course in youth, haue determined to ruinate my dayes in mine age, or Fortune holding me then in fauour beyond al men hath allowed my misfortune now to be aboue any: if so it was appointed, I would my life had ended then in tranquillitie, who [...] I feared no endamagement, then prolonging my dayes in hope of an aunswerable age. to bée subiect to the miserie of time, and abiect from the honour of a noble heart. Well, what hath passed to thy high good hap, and what is present, to the no small anguish of thy heart, let the remembrance of the one, extinguish the Fame of the other, and the crueltie of chaunce, roote vp the inestimable praise of thy conquest. These and sun­drie other heany complaints were vttered by the Emperour, & the triumphes were now of small estimation, for that thorow the whole Court, these sorrowfull tidings had strooken a sud­daine alteration. But most of all in the heart of the noble Pri­maleon, who vnderstanding the misfortune his déere Friende and brother Don Eodard, stood not to cast doubt of this matter or that accident, either how Fortune might fauour him, or en­damage his suddaine enterprise, but as couertly as he might, departed from Constantinople, refusing Father, Mother, Wife, Children, Lands, liuing and all: that the loyaltie hée bare to his friend, might declare he preferred his safetie, before his owne solace. And that his deedes might be answerable to his good intent, he vowed to trauatle the course of his, to search in euery desolate and vnfrequented place, but he would finde his déere friend Don Eodard. Whose welfare he as hear­tily desired as his owne life, for that he had found the like tru­stie and vnspotted affection in him: when through his valure, he defended him from the Giant Gatherin.

The Emperor was aduertised of his departure, by the vnaccu­stomed pensiuenesse of his espoused Lady Gridonia, as also by the great sadnesse of the Empresse his mother: whom neither the gentle perswasion of the Emperor might satisfie, nor ende­uour of her Courtly Ladies, might winne any meane to pa­cifie. [Page] Who vsed the more diligence in the matter, onely for the affection they bare to the Princesse Flerida, by whose vertuous and Princely behauiour of life (which had not onely rauished the mindes of all, but obtained the good liking of euery one, in that vertue is the chiefe ornament of noble or ignoble:) they were all encouraged to attempt any occasion to set the Em­pire at quiet.

When the Emperour perceiued her great disquietnesse, that the spéeches of the Ladies, as also of himselfe, were bestowed to small effect, he beganne to vse commendations of the valiant attempt of his Sonne Primaleon, in that his courage of minde vrged him to so famous an enterprise. Desiring her to consi­der the losse of the Prince Don Edoard, their Sonne in law: and that the good Fortune of Primaleon, might bring inesti­mable comfort to all Kingdomes in Christendome, so that the honour of his hardie attempt, deserued rather a generall reioy­sing, then such sad complaints as they séemed to bewray.

The knights who had likewise béene partners in the Tri­umph, and bare great good will to the Prince Don Edoard, as also to the noble Primaleon, withdrew themselues to their lodgings, and armed themselues presently, posting with all spéed they might after the aduenterous Primaleon, some taking one way, and some another. As well those that vsed the Tri­umphes for their Ladies sakes, as also those whose redoubted behauiour, hath both wonne the honour of the field, and digni­tie of fame. All with a mutuall consent, aduentured limme and life, that the report of their déedes, might manifest the renowne of their knighthood.

And because you shall haue knowledge, who behaued them­selues most worthy cōmendations, in this no lesse famous then rare aduenture, I will bewray some of them to you, that yonr gentle opinion of their paines, may yéeld them in recompence part of a condigne praise. The first that tooke the courage to hazarde himselfe in the field, had to name Polendos, King of Thessaly, Sonne to Frisol, the King of Hungaria, accompanied with his brother Belcar. The next, was the Prince of Alle­maigne, son to the Emperor Trineus, and named Vernar, who [Page] honoured the beautie of faire Bazilia, youngest daughter to the Emperour Palmerin, to whom he was newly maried, and stood in doubt how to proceed, least Fortune should not be so fauou­rable to him as he expected, which caused some slacknesse in good will. Neuerthelesse, after he had considered the honor of Mars, and sharpe cōflicts of Venus, how the one was lasting in Fame, and the other linked to an effeminate fancie, hee determined to follow his Companions, driuing into obliuion the pleasaunt conceyts, that hee often estéemed in his best beloued, vsing this perswasion with himselfe, That hee which vanquished him­selfe with the vanitie of Fancy, and yéeldeth the libertie of his will to fond affection, is more méete to handle a Lute, then a Lance, and better to court a Lady, then deserue the braue name of a Captaine. In this perswasion hee departed, intending so knightly an opinion in his minde, that the honour of his name should expresse his noblenes, and valure of his bounty, be estée­med of his fayre Bazilia.

Thus was the city of Constantinople, (as it were desolate,) wanting the noble knights which were thence departed, which caused the Emperour to visite the chiefest places in the Citie, to the no small content of himselfe, & ioy of the Citizens, who little minded the absence of the noble Gentlemen, in that ye Emperor so louingly vouchsafed thē his cōmpany. Thē departed Argo­lant frō the Court of Constātinople, toward the realme of Eng­land, bearing answere of his Ambassage from the Emperor, to his Lord & soueraigne, how y losse of the Prince Don Edoard, was blazed in the courts of diuers noble Princes. As in the court of Armedes King of France, his Cousin, & Son in law to the Emperor of Constantinople, as also in the court of Recinde K. of Spaine, in the court of Pellagris, the Souldan of Niquee, with the noble Maiortes, & many Princes more, to whom the losse of the English Prince, was as grieuous as to himself. For proofe whereof, the imployed paines of diuerse noble mindes might remaine as witnesse, who walked the Forrests and vn­knowne passages in many Countryes, that Martiall behauior was neuer more estéemed, thē it was during the search of this strayed Prince. Argolant being departed from the Emperour, [Page] after many dayes Trauell, hee arriued at the English Courte, whereas to the king Fredericke, the Quéene, and the Prin­cesse Flerida, hee deliuered the answere of his Message, who were greatly satisfied in hearing the Noble Attempts of the Grecian Knights, by whose endeuoured paines, they had good and prosperous successe.

CHAP. VI.
¶How Primaleon endeuoring himselfe in the diligent search of the prince Don Edoard, happened to meet with the Fu­neralls of the sorrowfull Lady Pandritia, Daughter to the K. of Lacedemonia, the which she solemnized for the vn­kinde repulse she sustained by the Prince Don Edoard.

NOw Primaleon determining his secrete es­cape from the Cittie of Constantinople, as I haue before declared, commaunded his Esquyre to bring his Courser and Armour, and closely to conuey all his Equippage and furniture behind the Storehouse of his Si­ster Flerida, for that none should be priuie to his intent, but only he. The Esqu: failed not to accomplish the pleasure of his Lord. And being come to the appointed place, he armed the Prince, except his Shield and Helmet, which he bare himself, so mounting on Horsbacke, they both departed, vowing to rest in no place, till hee might recouer some wished tydings of his Brother and Friend. Don Edoard, without whom he would neuer returne to Greece again. Long he trauelled, before he encountred any aduenture worthy the re­hearsall. But at length arriuing in the bottom of a valley in Lacedemonia, whē the Sun was declined to the west parts, he was discoraged, for that the night was obscure vpon him, beside thicknes of the trées, made his passage more tenebrous, thē else it would haue bene, so that very hardly he could finde his way. [Page] Wandring on still, vsing his minde with seuerall Imaginati­ons, at least to the comfort of himselfe, and ioy of an Esquyre, who sorrowed to sée his Lorde so suddenly pensiue, hee espyed a gailant troupe of Ladyes, bearing in theyr hands lighted Tor­ches, eache one well mounted on a lustie Stéede, attyred all in blacke, and framing their voices to great lamentations. Prima­leon surprised with great griefe of minde, to sée such fayre La­dyes weare the habite of Mourners, tooke the boldnesse of him­selfe, to beholde what they were, and drawing himselfe some­what nearer to them to them, perceiued the chiefe Lady and Mi­stresse of them, her Palfrey trapped with black Veluet, her Ve­sture of the same, and foure ancient Knights in the middest, bea­ring a Funerall, couered all with blacke Veluet. Primaleon per­ceiuing their heauy lamentations, and that they were nothing abashed at his presence, but helde on their Iourney, as though they had not séene him, he tooke such an earnest desire in himself, that he must néeds demand the cause, why they mourned in that manner. Then presenting himselfe before the chiefest Ladie, whose faire face had sustained a great blemish, by the abundance of teares that issued from her Eyes: in this manner he prepa­red himselfe to giue the Onset.

Faire Lady, impute it not to flattery, that I call you so, nor to Folly, in so much as you are so, but rather of your nature can­not admit your own praise, for the perfectiō of your mind, being answered in perswasion of my vnfeigned meaning, which estée­meth you, as I haue said, albeit farre inferior to that I could say. It is no more my desire, then vnder duety I may demaund, nor my Sute no otherwise disposed, then may stand with your Ho­nour to replie, and my honesty to request, I being a friend to all Ladies, and foe vnto none, insomuch that a moytie of their de­sires, should rather hinder me by mishap, then dishearten me by any danger. So that in briefe my request is thus: why you fre­quent this solitary place, accompanied with these who are equal with you in sorrow, althougy not worthy comparison (it may be) in Soueraigntie? And why you accompanie this Funerall, with such heauie complaints? considering the pleasures of the Court were more fit for your delights, then the vncomfortable [Page] abyding in this solitary Desart. Thus much on my Knight­ly Oath auouching, that knewe I, you had sustained iniury at the hands of any, I would eyther cause him recount what hee hath done you in hishonour, or constraine a reuenge on his dea­rest blood.

The Ladie hauing well noted the courtesie of Primaleon, as well his Knightly offer [...], as the good opinion shee conceyued of performance, satisfied his Request, with this gentle replye. Syr Knight, lesse I iudge you not to be, and more (being igno­rant of your estate) I may not terme yée: Neuerthelesse, if I fayle in the one, let friendship yet forget the other. Let suffice, that I am one whom Fortune hath iniuryed euery way by mis­happe, and aduantaged no way by no good lucke, so that to an­swere your demaund, I am the onely Ladye, who may compare with all for misfortune. As touching my ame, which may in some sort vrge you to remēber my meaning: when you are not ignorant of me: vnderstand that I am calld Pandritia, daughter to the famous King of Lacedemonia, and although at this pre­sent in this vncomfortable Wildernesses, yet am I gouernesse of his Princely dominions. And hereby in a Castle, I passe forth my vnfortunate life, hauing no other company then these whom you may behold, who beare part in my mone and mishappe. As for the estimation of my life, the ioy is so small, and the griefe so well acquainted, that I am rather desperate to ende it, then desirous to endure it. And now I make my returne vnto my carefull Castle, the which, for that it is not vnprouided of faire Ladies, such as you sée here present, I haue tearmed it the Gar­den of Damosells, wherein I receiue as much sollace by mour­ning, as any Ladie tasting my mishappe, can obtaine in myrth. I am sure if you haue trauelled Countreys, you are not igno­rant, how the King Ternaes my Brother, who after the death of my Father, was enchaunted into the Castle Des noires Oy­seaux, vntill such time as by the valiancie of the famous Prince Don Edoard, he was deliuered out of so grieuous perplexitie. This Prince afterward remaining with my Brother in Lace­demonia, so long as him pleased, where were such Tryumphes ordayned, as might gratifie such an Honourable personage, I [Page] (the more vnfortunate I) conceiued so good opinion of his vali­ant behauiour, that I chose him as the honor of my life, and Pa­tron of my Loue, estéeming all other but base in respect of him, and hee to be as farre beyond them all, as I was deceyued farre from my hope. But my Cake was dowe, and my labour spent to losse: for that long before he had vowed his seruice to the faire Damosell Flerida, to whom he was Espowsed, when he depar­ted foorth of this Kingdome. Thus was my Loue despised, my selfe disgraced, and shée honoured with that Gallant, whome I loued too soone, and lost too late: which causeth mee refraine all Courtly companie, betaking me to the sorrow of my Folly, that mist the good happe, I desired in Faith. And yet beholde, in re­membrance of this vnkinde Don Edoard, I haue reserued this Picture, as the chiefe ornament of my Chamber, imagining the person present, when God knowes he is farre enough from me in distance of place, but farther off in good will of heart. Yet of­ten doe I blame the Picture for the Maisters sake: whome had I but halfe so much power ouer, as I haue of this Portrait, hee should well know, my Loue is more then he can possibly desire, and so much that he can neuer liue to deserue. And as you may perceiue this Picture addressed in manner of a Funerall, which (being depriued of all Hope) I meane to Solemnize in this sor­rowfull manner that interring it in my comfortlesse House of Sadnes, I may forget the fond Loue I bare to such an vngentle Friend. Which to sée accomplished, this carefull companie, as you may perceiue, are ready to assist me in this heauy trauel. And therfore courteous Knight, if you please to sée my Funerals, and Picture of that ingratefull Prince Don Edoard, lifte vppe the Hearse, and you shall beare witnes, what I haue giuen you in words. Pandritia concluding her discourse with an heauy sigh: the Prince Primaleon lifted vp the Hearse, where he beheld the liuely Portreit of his déere Friend Don Edoard, so Artificially drawne, that he doubted whether he had bene slaine thereabout or no, for vnder his head were two Pillowes of blacke Veluet, and on either side of the body two burning Tapers, which enfor­ced the Prince to turne his talke into teares, and there he bar [...] Pandritia company for all that Night, enduoring her Comfort, [Page] but her vowed sorrow would not suffer any perswasion in this case. Ye would not Primaleon depart: but bare her company into another valley, & what time faire Aurora began to shew her cheerfull countenance, & cloare Phoebus hastened to his cha­riot, to run his course about the earth. Through this valley ran a blacke and vgly Riuer, beset with high Trées round about, which made it very obscure and vnpleasant to the beholders. In the midst of this Riuer was an Ile, wherin was placed an an­cient Mansion, couered ouer al with black: which declared smal pleasure to those who remained there, & great occasion of sadnes to any that should come there. The chamber of his solitarie place, were adorned with many pictures, as witnesses of the great misfortunes that had happened to many Louers: as the tragicall motion of Hero and Leander, the sorrowfull end of Piramus and This bie, accompanied with the mournful Philo­mela. Then next her stood the vnhappy quéene Dido, hauing the blade of Eneas pierced through her harmelesse heart, the worke­manship so cunningly ordred, that you would haue iudged the fresh blood to drop from her faire body. Medea, Progne, Arcana Fedra, & Arife, were all worthily painted, with the whole dis­courses of their liues. There stood Orpheus wrapped about in the fire of Hell, hauing in his hand his harpe, which in times past could recouer him his wife Erudice. Acteon bare compa­ny with these infortunate louers, in the shape of an Hart, and torne a péeces by his owne hounds: by him stood Narcissus, and diuers other, which I omit for breuitie, as [...] fearefull to be too tedious. Pandritia being now come to the dore of this fore­said mansion, she caused the damosels to beare in the funeralls of the Prince Don Edoard, then turning to Primaleon gaue him this farewel. Sir knight, lo here the rest of my misfortunes and last Sepulcher of my heauy trauels: I shall request your company no further, for that none must enter here, but he that vowes to be partner in our pensiuenes, and can abandon the name of all pleasures, to expresse his mishaps in bemoning my funerals. She entring, the knights closed the dore, so that Pri­maleon had not the meane to answer her, neuerthelesse, he stai­ed to heare the sorrowfull clamors they made within: which was no lesse irksome to his heart, then had he séene the perfect interring of his brother Don Eodard.

[Page] At last hee departed, dyrecting his course into such places, where he thought soonest to heare tydings of his straied friend: So tra­uayling on in good hope, we wil leaue him a while. And declare more at large, the cause of Pandritia her great mourning: as also what fortuned to the two yong Princes, nourished in the Caue of the Sauadgeman.

CHAP. VII.
¶The cause why Pandritia led this solitary kind of life. And how the yong Prince Florian straied from the Caue of the Sauadge man, and by Sir Pridos was brought [...]o the En­glish Court, and what further happened.

THe occasion why Pandritia bare such great affection to the Prince Don Edoard, is at large declared in the Booke intituled Pri­maleon. How that after the Prince had deliuered her Brother Tarnaes out of the Enchaunted Castle, wherein his Father had deuised the way to enclose him, and the came home with him into Lacedemo­nia. Shee oft [...] [...]emed to mooue good liking on her behalfe to the Prince Don Edoard, but hee by no meanes could direct his fancy after her course, for that his promise before passed to the Princesse Flerida, withheld the consent she gladly looked for.

To auoyd therefore what might happen, he refused to vse her company in talke, as before hee was wont, which very much displeased Bellagris, who was Soldā of Niquee, after the death of Molerin, his eldest brother. For hee vnderstanding the secret affection and great good will, that she entirely bare to the noble Prince Don Edoard, aduentured to trie Fortune, who so fa­uourably prospered his intent, that vnder the tytle of Don E­doard, he entred his sisters Chamber: where acquainting him­selfe [Page] with her, to his desire, and her deceit: time brought tho [...] pleasure to a goodly Sonne named Blandidon, of whom here­after, you shall be more largely certified.

But Pandritia giuing credite to her selfe, that the noble Don Edoard had receiued the estimation of her honour: grouuded such firme affection on him, as was more then we ought, and more then he would grant. So kéeping his Picture in his ab­sence, and vnderstanding of his supposed death, she vsed this so­leunitie in honour of his Funeralles, and attyred her selfe ac­cording as became her misfortune, departing from the Garden of Damoselles to her House of sadnesse, supposing thereto end her life with the losse of her loue. So remaineth she in place, where she shut the dore against the Prince Primaleon, who is likewise endeuoring himselfe in his aduentures. Returne we now to the two young Princesso, whom the Sauage mans wife had carefully nourished vp, as had they béene her owne Children, she could not haue vsed more motherly compassion.

In short time they grew to such estate, that their whole de­light was to hunt the sauage Beastes in the Forrest, where­vnto Florian [...] had more affection then his brother Palmerin, for he vsed euery day to beare his bowe, and leade the two Lyons, that hee became more expert then the Sauage man himselfe: and thus for ten yeares space liued these two young Princes, beloued w [...]ll of him, who before was their greatest enemie.

It fortuned on a Sunday morning, the Princes Fletida, wal­ked forth into the Forrest, as well to sorrow for her Luue, as to lamēt the estate of her infortunate life, hauing accomplished what she desired she returned. At this time Florian wandred about the forrest with his Lyons, which he tyed vp, meaning to take by force the first wilde Beast that should appeare in his sight. Hauing long stayed without any prey, he determined to returne: but at last he espyed a mighty Hart in a groue of trées, whereat he let slie an Arrow with such force, that it passed cleane through the body of the beast. The Hart féeling himselfe wounded, prosently tooke flight: which he perceiuing, let slip the Lions after him but all in vaine, for the swiftnesse of the Hart outreached the spéedy pace of the Lyons.

[Page] And Florian strayed so farre, that he had lost the sight of the Ly­ons and the Harte, as also the way to the Sauadge mans house: which caused him to wander in heauinesse, till the darke Night ouershadowed him, when he espyed two Shepheards making a little Fire of stickes to warme them, because the Night was ex­céeding colde. Florian being there arriued, hee sate him downe by a Riuers side, in the very same place that his Mother brought him into the World: where sitting a pretty while, he espyed a Knight come ryding, attyred in blacke Armor, spotted with red, bearing in his Shielde, the figure of a Gryffon, with a certaine Poesie, which was vnknown to any, his Lady and himselfe ex­cepted. This Knight was named Sir Pridos, who still aduan­ced himselfe in the search of the noble Prince Don Edoard, and he rode very pensiue and sad: till casting his eyes vpon Floran, his heart beganne somewhat to conceiue a maruellous inward Ioy, for that his countenance bare the perfect Image of his no­ble Father. Whereupon Sir Pridos, fell in diuers demaundes with him, which Florian very courteously answered: So that Syr Pridos fell into great desire, that he would beare him com­pany to London, wherein the Kings Court, he would present him, among the number of those, whome renowmed Fame did euer accompany. The young Prince Florian, more desirous to leade his life among the braue Gallantes, then so to passe his time so solitarie among the vnfrequenten places, in the Wilde Forrest, gaue his consent, and iournyed with Sir Pridos to the English Court, where he presented him to the King, cloathed in the Skinne of an Harte, a thing of no small admyration to the King: yet did hee receiue him very graciously, in that he suppo­sed him to be one of the Sonnes of the Princesse Flerida, vn­to whose Chamber he walked with this young Prince, and in this manner beganne to salute her. Fayre Daughter, among all the grieuous vexations, that afflict your weake Nature, loe, heere the Honour Syr Pridos doeth present you withall: who in searching your Noble Lord, and my Sonne, hath found this Iewell, which hee offereth to you, as the frustes of his labours. And trust me, the oftner I beholde his sweete countenance, the more I conceyue Opinion of his Allyance to my Sonne Don [Page] Edoard. The Princesse Flerida was not a little pleased with so glad a present, in signe whereof shée imbraced her Sonne, al­beit vnknowen, and went straight way to Sir Pridos, who cer­tified her, that he found him sitting in the same place where the Sauadge man came with his two Lyons, and tooke her two Children from her.

This mooued Flerida, to suppose him for her Sonne, but Fortune would not as yet suffer a perfect assuraunce, that ey­ther hée should know her for his Mother, or shee him for her Childe: Neuerthelesse, shée gaue him the name of Desart, trai­ning him vp in the company of a young Gentleman, Sonne to Syr Pridos and Attaida, named Don Rosiran, De la Bronde: with whome I will leaue this gentle Prince Florian, to know what the Sauadge man and Palmerin did, séeing Florian retur­ned not as he was woont.

CHAP. VIII.
How grieuous the Sauadge man tooke the suddaine losse of the yong Prince Forian, when he perceiued the two Lions returne all washed in the blood of the Hart that they had slaine. And how the young Prince Palmerin, walking to the Sea side to seeke his Brother, accompanied with Sil­uian, the Sauadge mans Sonne, departed thence in a Gal­ley, with Polendos King of Thessalie, who sailed to Con­stāntinople, where he presented them to the Emperor. And how a Damosel mounted on a white Courser, and bearing Armes, arriued at the Court of Constantinople, where she presented the Emperor, with a Letter sent from the Lady of the Lake, which gaue him at large to vnderstand, what should oappen to [...]he yong Prince Palmerin.

[Page] LOng expected the Sauadge man she returne of Florian, and seeing it waxed darke, and his hope deceiued, hee was out of measure disquieted for the absence of Florian, whose company, both for expertnesse and toward­nesse in his exercise, was more commodi­ous to him, then his griefe would suffer him to expresse: wherefore hee concluded thus, young Florian was some way distressed, and himselfe vt­terly disdained of Fortune. But in the morning the Lyons re­turned home, al washed in the blood of the Hart which they had slaine: when the Sauadge man percelued their guide wanting, and they thus pollnted, what with anguish of heart, and cholle­ricke perswasi [...]ns in his dosperate moode, hee slew both the Ly­ons, and entred into such a disquietnesse, that nothing could as­swage his extreame passion.

The yong Prince Palmerin, sustaining great sorrow for the absence of his brother, walked to the Sea shore, accompanied with Siluian, the Sauadge mans Sonne, where sitting comfor­ting each other on the greene bancke, as naturs moued the one, and nurture the other, they espied a Galley to strike on shore, where they twaine disported.

Polendos King of Theslalie, being chiefe Captaine in this Galley, who likewise directed his iourney for the finding of Don Edoard, commanded to cast Anker there: because for re­creations sake, he would walke vp into the Forrest, as also to finde swéete water, whereof he was greatly destitute. Palme­rin and Siluian, séeing the King landed, and fearing least they should sustaine some harme, in that they were ignorant what they were: determined by courteous deme [...] nor to let them passe by, so should they haue no cause to molest them, but to depart friendly perceiuing nothing but courtesie.

Polendos deholding the beautie of Palmerin, with the no lesse ciuill, then comely behauiour of them bdth, desired them to goe abrdad with him, and hee would preferre them in such [Page] place, as they should be raised to honour, and finde all things equiual [...]t to their gentle natures. Palmerin, whose fancy could hardly brooke that sauadge kinde of life, but rather desired to ac­quaint himselfe with Courtly exercise, gaue grant to that which [...]he King had requested, albeit Siluian vsed intreatie to per­swade him to the contrary: but when hée saw all meanes that he deuised, could take no effect, as well for the great loue that was betwéene them, as the inuiolate affection he alway bare to the young Prince, he vowed neuer to leaue his company, either for misery, misfortune, or any accident whatsoeuer. The King no lesse delighted in minde, then greatly contented with the manners of Palmerin, (his seruants beeing returned with such necessaries as hee sent them for,) went abroad, and heysed Sayles presently, committing themselues to God, & the mer­cie of the waues. So riding at their pleasure, the King desired Palmerin (if hée might lawfull craue so much) to certifie him, as concerning his byrth and Parentage, which the courteous Prince right willingly gaue consent vnto, declaring his life with the Sauadge man, whom he certainely supposed to be his Father.

After many dayes fayling, they arriued at Constantiuople, which at that presēt was endued with as great heauines, as in time past, it surpassed in Princely delights, the Port or Hauen, likewise being nakedly prouided of ships, for that the Occean and Mediterranian seas, had scattered y whole Nauy in search of the P. Don Edoard, as also to know what was become of the Noble Primaleon, yet in all this time, no wished tydings heard. The Emperor vnderstanding y Polendos was arriued at Constantinople, walked d [...]wn to the Hauen, to accompany him to his pallace, where being come, and hearing by him no ti­dings of his sons, became very sorrowfull, as he had cōtinued so a long time. Then Polendos to put the Emperour out of this sadde cenceyte, presented vnto him the young Prince Palme­rin, accompanied with Siluian. Who cas [...]ing his eyes on the young Prince, entred presently into such an alteration of ioy, as had he béene his own sonne Primaleon, he could hardly haue béene better contented. Wherefore he commaunded a Knight [Page] to conduct hm to the Princesse Gridonia, willing her to giue him as seruant to the faire Polinarda, whose beauty was so ex­cellent, her feature agréeable in euery lyneament, her modestie so decent, & vertue therto apparant, that she was rightly termed the Phaenix for beauty, & most famous among Ladies for boun­ty. The Empresse and Gridonia, receiued the yong Prince, al­beit ignorant of his estate, yet as beséemed their honors, respec­ting who sent him, & went straightway to present him to the faire Polinarda: who in time caused him to aduenture his good Fortune among the pikes of mischanches, and hazards of most daunger, onely for her loue, which hée bought as déerely, as she gaue it daintily: for proofe, let suffice what hereafter ensueth. But attend a strange & rare euent: On a subdaine was arriued in the Emperors Pallace, a comely Damosell, mounted on a Courser, as white as a Swan, bearing Armor also answerable to the same in colour, her haire spread ouer her shoulders, which gaue cause of meruaile to all that saw her. She being come into the presence of the Emperor, to the no little admiration of him, with all those that beare him company: she drew foorth a Letter, delyuering the same with such Maiestie of behauiour, as was méete to gratifie such an honourable personage: which the Em­perour deliuering to one of his Heralds, cōmanded it to be read in publique audience: who vnseaking it, began as followeth.

¶To the Inuincible, and most renowned Palmerin, Emperour of Greece, Salutations.

REnowned Emperor, at whose name the enemy quaketh, and the Subiect reioyceth, in whose Court, your name is the riches of the valiant, & friendship the reward of any that be venterous: I wish thy state as permanent, as thy deeds hath beene puissant, and the vnanimitie of thy friends, to pro­sper in longanimitie of happy Fortune. The yong Prince that thou hast receiued into thy Court, albeit thou maist think in­credible, yet shall finde it certaine (when Time doeth will it must be): it is descended of two the most puissant Kings in Christendome, and himselfe as victorious as [...]uer was any. [Page] Wherefore, let his entertainment be such as his honour doth deserue, and his estimation according as his valure doth de­clare: for he it is must needs defend the Diadem of thy domi­minions, when it shall remaine destitute of wished defence, and he it is that shall make thee lauded of Fortune, and loued of thy enemies as of thy dearest friends. Likewise, the two most infortunate Princes of the world, shall enioy their liber­tie by him, in which many haue, and shall attempt, but he a­lone is oidained to finish this Exployr: for that he is aboue all in the Fauour of Fortune, and he shall exell all in the Nobili­tie of Knighthood. Thus leauing the summe of my promise to your gratious triall: I wish the noble Emperour of Greece may liue in eternall honour and felicitie.

By her, who is more in dutie, then by pen or words, she can any way disclole. The Lady of the Lake.

The Emperor no lesse amazed at this happy aduenture, then contented at the glad newes of this noble yong Prince: desired of the Damosel, who might be the Lady of the Lake. To whō the Damosell replied: Noble sir, she is altogether vnknowne of me, but thus much I dare boldly assure your Maiestie, that what her Letter presenteth, shall be performed in this worthy young Prince. These spéeches ended, the Damosell departed: which the Emperor perceiuing, sent for the yong Prince, vpon whom vsing many chéerfull countenances, he desired his noble Gentlemen standing by, that he might be tearmed of all Pal­merin, after his owne name, for that he thought he should be the better estéemed of his Lady Polinarda, in whose fauor he was greatly estéemed, as the wearing of his Ladies colors, he might giue some cause of beliefe. But the Empres and Gridonia, still lamented the losse of Primaleon, whose absence from the court, was chiefest cause of their sorrow.

CHAP. IX.
Of that which happened to Vernar the Prince of Allemaign, in his search of Don Edoard, and of the controuersie be­tweene him and Belcar, the Duke of Duras, in the vnfor­tunate Forrest of England.

I Haue declared to you before how Vernar the Prince of Allemaigne, and sonne to the Emperour Trineus and the faire Agri­gola, left the Court of Constantinople, when Palmerin departed to séeke the Prince Don Edoard. In which affaires, this gentle Prince likewise, behaued him­selfe so worthily in many rare exploytes, that his Fame re­maineth as a perfect type of his hononr in the Allemaigne Chronicles: for which cause, I leaue to rehearse them, retur­ning to that which happened this Prince, and is in my charge to speake of. It fortuned that hee hauing spent no small labour in trauaile, arriued at last in great Brittaine, where he had good hope to heare some newes to end his labour.

And being entred into this vnfortunate forrest, ryding very sadly, for y his mind was somwhat distracted with remēbrance of his faire Bazilia, at length there met him a comely Knight, very brauely mounted, attyred in gilt armour, whereon was wrought many Leopards by Artificiall deuice, yet crazed and broken by some rough encounter that he had béene in. And in his Shéeld he bare a Serpent, in a field of Siluer, trauailing also in the search of the strayed Prince, as likewise to méet with such who professed the magnanimitie of minde, to combate in the honour of their owne good Fortune: for which cause he left [Page] the Ladies in the English Court, among whom he was called The Knight of the Serpent. Passing by the Prince Vernar, he vsed such courtesie vnto him, as beséemed his Knighthoode, and was méete for such a Noble person: but he altogether vsing his thoughtes, on his fayrest Bazilia, had no leysure to beholde the Knights courtesie. The Knight of the Serpent supposing, that eythere hee willingly would not perceyue, or séeing, scorned the gentle Salutations he vsed: reuiued the Prince Vernar, with these spéeches. Syr Knight, mee thinkes it might stand with your Honour and profession, and no blemish to you any way, but bounty euery way, to haue thought well of him, who meant no ill to you, and to haue gratified him like a Courtier, that dis­dained to passe by you, and not vse courtesie.

The Prince being driuen foorth of his dumps, whereto hee had more pleasure, then to the Knights gentle proffer, betwéene Iset and earnest thus answered. Sir, I muy be offended with­out blame, and iudge your behauior to be very bald, that would constraine me to speake, not hearing your spéeche, when I had more matters in minde, then would suffer me to sée you much lesse to heare you.

Syr (quoth the Knight of the Serpent) this excuse is farre too simple, in denying both your Hearing and Sight: for though statelynesse would not suffer you to sée me, yet the leawdnesse of my spéech doth iustifie you might heare me. Vernar hearing the large language of the Knight, which might quickly mooue him to anger (being before subiect to ouer much Melancholie▪) thus shortly replyed. Syr Knight, you haue better licence to depart, then leaue to stay here: for that my minde is troubled with such metters, as rather requireth your absence, thea alloweth your presence. Giuing you farther to vnderstand, that your compa­nie is so much to my heart, that the strife which may arise be­twéene vs, will be to your great harme. When the Knight per­ceyued, what small estimation Vernar had of him, thus roundly replyed. Syr, either your bringing vp, hath bene ouer churlish, or your present behauior scant currant: in that you estéem cour­tesie, more like a Carter, then a Courtyer, and Ciuile demea­nour, more fitte to holde the Ploughe, then fine qualities to ho­nour [Page] your person. I estéeme it both méete and modest, that you expresse such a Friuolous motion, as doth represse abruptly the nature of Friendly manners: for greater danger is in concealing what I desire, then damage in concealing such a simple demand. I desire rather (quoth Vernar) mine owne ruine, then I should be so simple to graunt what you request: In so much, that it is expedient none should know my thoughts, shee onely excepted, that must be priuie to what I thinke. Wherefore, esteeming thy Manhoode as small to commaund, as thy might to compell, I will bury my Thoughts with my Death, before I intend to satisfie thy desire. So leauing off words, they fell to their wea­pons: where shiuering their Speares and Armour, they En­counted with such Brauerie, that they were glad to take brea­thing: when the Knight of the Serpent beganne thus to charge him, I belieue Sir, you finde this Skirmish more hote, then your concealed thoughtes may be estéemed wisedome, and that your Estate standeth in a more sharpe hazarde, then your mute conceyts are of force to yéeld you any sure helpe: which I hope shall shew you the difference, betweene a carelesse Groome, and a Courtly Gentleman.

Syr (aunswered the Prince Vernan) your opinion is as yet farre beyond my purpose: for that you are as wide from your hope, as you are scant wise to put your intent to hap. Perswade your selfe thus, that the courage I haue to your foyle, and secre­cie I estéem of mine owne faith, shall ere long, giue an absolute answere, whether I shal perish in my determination, or thy selfe preuaile in what thou demandest: which shall craue no longer forbearance, then my Sword hath taught you manners, that a­gainst my will would teach me your kinde of modestie. Then fell they to a fresh Combate, which was more dangerous then their first Assault: when being wearied with Swords, they en­deuoured by wrastling to suppresse the strength of eache, but the equal behauiour of their force was such▪ as the losse of their blood was great: yet their valorous hearts would conceiue no faint­nesse. The Knight of the Serpent had such a desire to knowe a­gainst whom he fought, that once more he began to vse fair spée­ches to him. I perceiue Sir, you more estéeme your earnest opi­nion, [Page] then you stand in feare of the losse of your life: which were more honour for you to deliuer vnto knowledge, then such a se­uere chaunce, should happen vnto either of vs: yet is my minde so affected, that I will know both your secret and your selfe, or it shall value my life. As for my life (qd. Vernar) I am so much the more willing to loose it, by how much I perceyue you zealous to know what you shall not. Wherevppon they beganne againe the third time, albeit, more faintly then before passed: which cau­sed their Esquyres standing by, to enter into many heauy com­plaintes, especially the Esquire of the Prince Vernar, who as thus framed his mone. Oh infortunate Emperor, who is igno­rant, that Fortune at this time will depriue him of his ioy.

The Knight of the Serpent noting these words, presently con­iectured that it was the Prince Vernar, sonne to the Emperour of Allemaigne, against whom he entred Combat, and how grie­uous the Emperor Palmerin would take the matter, if he heard of the losse of either of them both. Beside, himself would be loth, any way to displease the Gentle Prince Vernar, wherefore for more assurance of him, he beheld his broken Shield, wherein he perceiued the deuise of his Lady Bazilia, coloured all in Purple, with the halfe burning Heart in the midst: and on the Armor of the Prince, was her Portraite curiously drawne: which gaue him perswasion that was hée, to whom hee thus vsed his spéech. Syr. Vernar, my minde constraineth me to giue ouer the fight, being right sorrie that I haue continued it so long: for that the Princesse Bazilia is cause of your sorrow, which you feared to vtter, and now by my selfe declared. Pardon your friende Bel­car, who is so hartily sorry, that he rather desireth the death, then to sée you in any distresse. The Prince Vernar, perceiuing that it was his friend Belcar, ran to him, embracing him in his armes, giuing him a thousand thanks, that he had so found the meane, to cut off their quarrell. Then taking their Helme to to theyr Esquires, who did their best to binde vp their wounds, they rode to the Citie of Brique, which was not far from the Forrest, re­counting to each other, what had happened them in their search of the Prince Don Edoard.

CHAP. X.
¶How Eutropa gaue Dramusiande to vnderstand of the arriuall of a Knight at his Castell, whose valiant behaui­our should put him in some cause of feare: which words made him presently to fortifie his Castell, to auoyd anie perill that might annoy him. And how Primaleon (who was the Knight Eutropa spake of) came to the Castell: where he Iusted against his deare Friend Don Edoard, in which Fight they had knowledge of each other. And how in hope to purchase his deliuery, he ouercame Pan­dare and Alligan, two monstrous Giaunts, entring into Combate likewise with Dramusiande, who ouercam [...] Primaleon, and tooke him prisoner into his Castell▪

DRamusiande, still retaining in Captiuitie the Prince Don Edoard, was on the sud­den aduertised by the Enchauntresse Eu­tropa his Aunte, that there should arriue a certaine Knight at his Castell, whose va­lour and Prowesse should goe néere to at­tainte his Honour: as also inforce his life to stand in some hazard. He giuing credite vnto her perswasion, and likewise somewhat carefull to auoyde the imminent perill, fortified his Castel with such sure defence, as he thought sufficient to award the Enemie, and maintaine the intent he had vowed to prosecute. For feare some times maketh a man to become wise: that else in a desperate moode, would set the world on whéeles.

So Dramusiande albeit famous in his déedes, yet fearefull to be surprised by any danger: vseth the industrie of his Aunte Eutropa, with the helpe of his Friends, whose courage he knew equall to their wise foresight, to be reuenged on all Knights, for [Page] the death of his father Frenaque. Which the better to accom­plish, he entertained into his Castle, two hardy and fearefull Giants, the one named Pandare, the other Alligan, whose sta­ture were no lesse in vglinesse, then their strength cruell in re­sistance: and because he would haue euery thing in due prepa­ration, he determined (when néede should be) how he would haue his Castle defended, as thus. The noble Prince Don Edoard against all Knights that came, should haue the first ho­nour of the fight, next to him the Giant Pandare, should giue a fresh assault, which twaine, if they should faile by misfortune (as his Auntes words made him doubt of some mischaunce) stout Alligan of the Obscure Caue, would giue them their last welcome: whose countenance was feareful to all that saw him, and whose might was cruell, to all that should hap to féele him.

Fortune bending her browes on the couragious Primaleon whom she had earst aduanced to honour, and now determi­ned to vnhappinesse: directeth his course to this vnfriendly Ca­stle, where he should end his trauailes, with his owne thral­dome.

For after he had left the solitarie Pandritia, in the realme of Lacedemonia, he trauelled through Burgondie, where happe­ning among other Knights, to come in place of a Triumph, himselfe brauely mounted, all in gréene Armor, which colour somewhat asswaged his extreame Melanchollies, and in his Shéelde on a ground of Azure, a Sea brauely painted, he bare for his deuice.

At this triumph he bare away the honour of the day, so tra­uailing on in his iourney, hée arriued in this manner at the Castle of Dramusiande. And being come neare the Castle, the Noble Prince Don Edoard came foorth vppon the bridge, very valiantly mounted, his armour all blacke, whereon was a resemblaunce of little flames of fire, tormenting a Louers heart, which was engrauen in the middest of his breast. His Shéelde was aunswerable in colour to his Armour: in the middest whereof, was curiously painted the Image of a sadde conceited minds, so artificiallie framed, that the beholders might easily iudge the heauinesse of the knight, to be according [Page] to his sad Deuise. Primaleon no lesse abashed at the brauery of the Castle, then to sée a Knight so well appointed at Armes, be­gan in this order to vse his spéeches. Syr Knight, I would be so happy, or else so hardy, to enter this Castle, without offering you Combate, as well to satisfie mine owne desire, as loath to offer you any rude demean: desiring you, if my request stand not with reason, to let passe your choller, vpon Knightly courtesie.

Don Edoard perceiuing the comely behauiour of Primaleon, of whome hee was as ignorant, as the other was from know­ledge of him, shaped him presently this answere. If you knew Sir Knight, the hard entertainment, and vnfriendly vsage, of all Knights whatsoeuer that enter this Castle, you would be loath to spend spéech in such a fond request; but rather vse spéed in a safe retire: For as in other places you may increase your Fame, so in this place you may stay to sorrow for your Follie. If these per­swasions cannot withhold your intent, but that rashly you will runne into a continuall trouble: knowe this, you must first a­ward my puissance, who resisteth Knightes that séeke wilfully theyr owne perill. But admit, that Fortune denie me the victo­rie, and séeke your ouerthrowe, vnder title of your valiance, yet are there such hazards to passe, as doth discourage me to thinke, and will dishearten you to trie.

Trust me Sir (answered Primaleon) your words were suffi­cient to make me feare, if I bare the minde of a c [...]auen, and not of a Captaine: but heereof assure your selfe, that neither your perswasion of daunger, nor the doubt it selfe that is to come, can cause me feare at a show, or shall make me fainte at a shadowe. For this estimation I alwayes beare with mee, that the more harde the Aduenture is, the brauer will be the victorie. So that sir, take this for a certaintie, I haue setled my hope, which ney­ther you nor: any can remoue, but onely Death it selfe.

Thus concluding their spéeches, they couched their Speares, and began a sharpe encounter, wherin they behaued themselues so brauely, that they who stood in the Castle, beholding them, did no lesse commend theyr Valour, then the good intent eache othar shewed in hope of victorie. At last, so fiercely they met togither, that they were both vnhorsed, which very much displeased Pri­maleon, [Page] beeing neuer in all his life cast foorth of his Saddle be­fore: then drawing his sword, he thus approched to the Prince Don Edoard. Sir Knight, I will trye, if your strength in vsing your Sword, be equall with y force. I haue felt at your Speare: which hauing made mee impatient, beeing neuer before ouer­throwen, doth increse my courage, to know him that hath done that at this instant, which in many Attempts before could not be done by any. Don Edoard, no lesse offended at this mishap, then amazed at the courage he perceiued in his Aduersarie: be­gan to suspect, that the Knight against whom he endeuored him­selfe, was his Brother and friend Primaleon, the cause that mo­ued him to think so, was the equall state of their strength, which in time past he had often prooued: of which doubt to resolue him­selfe, he thus began. Syr Primaleon, as it may rather be tear­med Presumption, then politique foresight, in him that would striue to be your matche, who are aboue all in Manhoode: so in mée might it be accounted rather a Foolish hardinesse, then any friendly héede, to doe that in a Brauery, which should excéede the limites of Bountie, and to striue with my Friend, whom in du­tie I ought most to honour. Primaleon hearing these friendly spéeches: prese [...]tly knewe that, it was his Brother Don Edo­ard, when casting his Sword to the ground hee embraced the Prince with these louing salutations. If my heart were able to thinke, my tongue to speake, or my selfe to make manifest by a­ny meane, not only the inward ioy I conceiue, but the high good fortune I doo estéem of my trauells, then should my deare friend and brother perceyue, my health is his happines, and Primaleon liueth no longer, then Don Edoard reioyceth. Long haue I desi­red this happie day, and long haue I sought this good lucke with daunger: albeit neuer so prosperous as to heare of you, yet now the most fortunate of all men, to come where I sée you. Don Edoard would haue answered againe, but the Giant Pandare brought word from Dramusiande, to breake off theyr talke, and come to him, whose commandement the Prince obeying, entred the Castle. Primaleon offering to goe in with him, but Pandare beeing Armed, with a great yron Mace in his hand, and a very strong Shielde, thrust him backe with these churlish wordes. [Page] Stay Sir Knight, I meane to sée what thou canst do, to deliuer thée out of my hands, as also how thou can warrant thine own life. Primaleon beholding the great pride of Pandare, with the dishonor he offred him in words, as also the disdaine he tooke to be thus controled, gaue him this answer. It is more difficult for me to answere thée, as thy wordes require, then dangerous to correct the boldnesse of such a proud Riuall: and I scorne to vse words with such a Peasant, whose maners are so far from ho­nestie, as the Maister can neuer come in knowledge thereof: whose Plumes I may pull with such a due reward, as he shall thinke my warrant better then his own wisdome, & that I can escape his brags, when his owne brauerie may hap to lie in the lurtch. Pandare vexed with y reply of Primaleon, not knowing whether he were best to answere him with words or déeds, at last sent him such a blow with his yron Mace, that Primaleons shield shiuered all in pieces, which grieued him, stāding in some néed, & made his foe triumph, who hoped for his death. But hée espying a part of the body of Pandare vnarmed, reacheth him such a blow in reuenge of his Shield, that he began to stagger, hardly withholding himselfe frō falling to the earth, & Dramu­siande leaning with Don Edoard, foorth of a windowe in the Castell, and perceiuing the courage of Primaleon in this daun­gerous Combate: desired to know his name, and of whence he was which Don Edoard answered, according as he desired, gi­uing him further to vnderstand, that not onely in this, but in many other aduentures, hee had put his life in hazard, onely for his sake. Which when Dramusiande knewe, hee determined Primaleon for apartner with Don Edoard, and to kéepe them twaine in captiuitie, till Fortune sent more customers.

Pandare séeing his blowes bestowed to smal purpose, & that Primaleon returned him many shrewde gréetings, flung down his Sworde and Target, in a great furie, pretending the de­struction of Primaleon, with his yron Mace. And after many sore strokes, passed on either part, Primaleon followed his de­termination so well, y he had stroken off Pandares fowre fin­gers, wherewith his Mace fell to the ground, which he stooping to recouer, Primaleon had gotten such good aduantage, that hee [Page] had stroken off his head, had not the ougly Giant Alligan of the Obscure Caue, bene his Rescue, who stepping betwéene them, thus saluted Primaleon. Syr Knight, thou hast a fresh labour to beginne: wherefore withdrawe thy hands from him that is conqnered, and come deale with me, who hopes to conquer thée: and therewithall Primaleon, being not fully prouided, receiued such a cruell blowe on the head, that it put him in some danger.

Primaleon séeing such a fearefull Enemie, and what mighty blowes he still charged him withall, he bethought him on his Friende Don Edoard, whose helpe in this fierce assault might doe him no small pleasure. Yet hee considered with himselfe, that doubtlesse he was in some néede, or so kept vnder, that hee might not assist him, else hee perswaded himselfe, he would be as requisite to helpe him, as hée ready to wish for him. Then hee taking vp the Shielde of Pandare, betwéene Alligan and himselfe began a hotteskirmish, as the place where they fought, altered in colour with theyr blood, made manifest. Yet Alligan for all his rough behauiour, had little hope of any good successe, because the hardinesse of Primaleon, hadde both martyred his Shield and Armour in pieces, so that he had no defence to beare off the blowes., but by the fresh and eager Assaults of the Noble hearted Prince, he brought him vnto such a lowe estate, that he supposed he had quight slaine him. Which mooued him to sitte downe to rest him, for that faintnesse with losse of his blood, and wearynesse in so long continuing Battell, made him both glad and desirous of a little ease,

Dramusiande perceyuing the harde euent of this Combat, and standing in doubt that Fortune by some sinister meanes or other, would séeke his ouerthrowe, and so depriue him of that he looked for, and what his Aunte laboured for, Armed himselfe presently, and came foorth to Primaleon, assailing him first with these wordes. Syr Knight, my Friend if you please, my foe, if you dare: in the one you may finde comfort in your distresse, in the other any incurable mischiefe to beare you companie, in so great daunger. Mee thinkes [...] it were more honour for you to yéelde, with no blemish to your Knighthoode, then to endure a fresh Assault, which will be to your great hazarde. So, if you [Page] estéeme of my courteous offer, I will sée your wounds cured at mine owne charge, and your weake estate comforted, as besée­meth a good Knight. Primaleon well nothing the honest words of Dramusiande, and fearing his faire talke might beare fauor of a shrewde meaning, made him this answere.

If sir, by the paine I haue bestowed, & sharpe encounters I haue eudured, I might purchase y deliuery of my dearest friend Don Ddward, then would I not only make estimation of your courtesie, but confesse my selfe during life, yours euer bound by duty. But as I iudge, you meane nothing lesse, and the reward of my trauaile desireth nothing more, so my heart is bent vnto that hautie enterprise, which if intreatie will not serue, shall be gayned perforce, and where courtesse is not estéemed, compulsi­on may and shall command. The oath I haue made my friend, doeth discharge my heart of feare, and the hope I haue of victo­rie, bids me rather die, then be vanquished, so shall I award the reproch of the world, and be true to my friend, whose safetie I tender as my owne soule.

Dramusiande at this pause, tooke occasion to reply in this manner: Sir Knight, for two causes I account it honour, to vse thée courteously. The first is, that I greatly pittie the harme, which may ensue to an vnuised heade, which doth that in a brauerie for a fashion, he is glad with bitter teares, to bemoane in folly. The second cause is, that to conquer thée, would rather discredite me, then any honour were to be gotten by the victory, considering thy vnfortunate and miserable estate, with the Knightly puissance I shall bestowe on thee. Neuerthelesse, to charme the proud spéeches thou hast vsed, & correct the rash be­hauiour of thy vnstayed wit, thou shalt know, how I can tam [...] the mallepart, & bridle those that cannot rule their owne man­hood. Vpon these words he laid fiercely at Primaleon, (whose debility rather required quietnesse, then such extreame strokes as hee must néedes suffer:) neuerthelesse, hee employed himselfe to such nimble defence, as his weary trauayle would permit him: which mooued a great compassion in the minde of Dra­musiande, to sée the weakenesse of the body, not agrée with the inuincible courage of the heart, & would not for any thing haue [Page] slaine him, as very easily he might haue done, but that hee once more would vse perswasiō, which he discharged after this order. Sir Knight, thou maist sée I refuse the fight, more for the griefe I sustaine in thy hurt, then any feare I haue of thée, to doe me harme: in token whereof I set thée, at libertie, as one more wil­ling to doe thée good, thē any desire I haue to bereaue thée of life. But if thou once more refuse my courtesie, and desperately séeke thine owne destruction, I promise thee, that neither mercy may asswage my rygour, nor any meane beside, shall withhold me from reuenge: for that he which is carelesse of his ow [...]e life, it were great pitie but he should loose it.

Primaleon casting his eyes vpon his armour, which he per­ceiued al broken, & battered in pieces, as also bathed in the blood which issued frō his wounds, then calling to remembrance his Lady Gridonia, whose heart might hardly brooke, to heare any mischance of her best beloued, walked a little by himselfe, vsing these silent cogitatiōs. Madame, behold the last day of our hea­uy departure, & my last farewell sent you in teares with a blée­ding heart, subiect to mine enemy, whom I striue to conquere, and yet rather desire the death, then lose the honor of my name. I know our next assault is the last Tragedie of my time, which I must not refuse, if I loue my friend, and yet should forsake, re­membring your losse. Wel, hard is the hap, whē Fortune hath determined all to extremitie, which if I should séeke to shunne, would iustly repay me with deserued shame. O famous Empe­ror, and my renowned father, whose thoughts are as far from my heauy case, as my troubled heart is void of any comfort: yet let this iust perswasion cut off the griefe you may sustaine, that I liues for my friend, whose fréedome was my felicity, and now die for my fréend, whose thraldome is my misery, which I desire to finish, ere I will shrinke one iot in the honour of knighthood. Albeit the losse of my blood ouerchargeth mee with faintnesse, and my long continuance in fight, oppresseth me with weari­nes, yet shall it neuer be reported, Primaleon turned backe, for­getting bounty, or left the [...]ield for one, hauing already conque­red twaine: for the ioy I conceiue in finding my chiefest friend, biddeth me die ere I leaue him, so shall hee trie, if I loue him. [Page] And thinke not deare father, nor my swéete Gridon [...]ia, that I forget the duetie, which law of nature willeth me to beare you, or that I desperately run on mine owne death, to increase your sorrowe and continuall mones. But thinke as I haue ventu­red vpon the honour of your loue, so the estimation of my friend at this time commaunds mee to hazard my life. Wherein, I swerue not from you in obedience, nor from my friend in ami­tie.

This pause had so hartened the noble Primaleon, that he ran couragiously vpon Dramusiande, with these words. Defend thy selfe, for either will I win what I haue promised, or leaue my life as a gage in thy presence. Whereupon they fell very fiercely to combate againe, which made Dramusiande to muse, to sée the noble courage of Primaleon,, & the weake defence hée had for himselfe, who at last through extreame faintnesse fell to the ground, as though hée had beene quite bereaued of life: which caused Dramusiande to beare him into the Chamber of Don Edoard, cōmaunding his Chirurgions and Phisitions, to vse great care and diligence in sauing his life, if it might bée possible, because hée was greatly affected, to saue the life of such couragious Knights. Don Edoard was very pensiue for the great daunger of Primaleon, of whose health hee was no lesse carefull then hee had béene venterous to purchase his deliuerie. And when he was somwhat receuered, they had knowledge by Eutropa, what great friendship and good will, they should both of them in time to come, sustaine at the handes of her nephew Dramusiande, which should make a double amends for all mis­chances that had happened.

Thus leaue we Dramusiande, vsing all meanes he might, for the health of Primaleon, as also the recouery of Pandare and Alligan, whom at last he had brought to good constitution of body, to his ioy, and great comfort of the two faythfull Princes, who liued, loued, and reioyc [...]d in each others friendly company.

CHAP. XI.
How the Emperor of Constantinople, made the noble young Prince Palmerin Knight: with diuers other yong Princes and Lords that were in his Court, whom hee honourably made Knight at Armes.

PPalmerin remaining long time with his father, beloued of euery one for his princely behauiour, and estéemed with the best through his gentle nature: grew vnto such ripenesse of age, that he greatly desired the order of Knighthood, but the feare to loose the seruice of his Lady and Mystresse Po­linarda, (to whom he had not only vowed the duty of his heart, but the whole course of his life, in Knightly aduentures) with­drewe his minde from so bold an enterprise. And shee like­wise was ioyned with him in equal affection: but that modestie caused her to couer it, and maydenly demeanour, did moue her to conceale it, for that shée would not rashly run into the suspi­tion of those, who frame their whole endeuour to the reproach of Ladies, neither regarding theyr honor, nor theyr owne ho­nestie.

The Emperor remayned somewhat pensiue for his two Sonnes, seeing neuer a Knight returned, that departed in theyr search, which caused him to remember the Lady of the Lake, and to comfort himselfe somwhat in her tydings as concerning the young Prince Palmerin, by whose meanes he had good hope to vnderstand their estate, albeit affection would hardly permit him, that he should trauaile.

Wherefore he being willing to content his subiects, who [Page] stood in doubt of their gouernment, after the Emperours de­cease, hée caused a Tryumph to bee proclaymed, wherein hee would trie, if the towardly beginning of Palmerin, would en­courage his minde to expect any good successe, Vpon this deter­mination, he willed all the young Knights, who should be De­ [...]endants against the other Knights of his Court, to bee readie prepared against the Easter holy daies, so that the rumor of this famous triumph, caused many Scaffoldes and Galleries (by the Emperours consent (to be built round about the Tiltyard, which reioyced the Citizens, that theyr long time of sorrowe, should now obtatine a generall consent of established pleasure. The knights marched in very gallant order, before the Empe­rour of the Chappell, where after diuine Seruice was accom­plished, he returned to his Pallace, to make the young Prince Palmerin night. Where first the Emperour embraced the no­ble young Prince, then Frisol, King of Hungaria, fastened the spurre on his héele: and the faire Polinarda, by commandement of the Emperour, did gird his sword about him. Which gaue such an encouragement to the valiant Palmerin, that for her sake he attempted such rare aduentures, as increased the honor of his Fame, and noblenesse of her beautie. Then were the other young noble Gentlemen called forth, to receiue likewise the order of knighthood. As first, Gracian Prince of France Ne­phew to the Emperor, and sonne to the King Arnedes, Berold Prince of Spaine, and Sonne to the puissant King Reciende, with Onistalde, and Dramian, his two brethren. Estrellant, son to king Frisol of Hungaria, Don Rosuell, Bellizart, the sonne of Bellar, Bazilland, sonne to king Tarnaes, Luyman of Burgōdy the sonne of Duke Tryole, Francian who was so expert in mu­sicke, sonne to Polendos, king of Thessaly, and the faire France­lina. Polinarda sonne to the Emperor Trineus, and brother to the Prince Vernar, Adrian, the sonne of Maiortes, Germaine, sonne to the Duke of Orleance, Attenebrant, son to the Duke Tirendos, Attremoran, sonne to the Duke Lecefin, Frisol, son to the Duke Drapos of Normandie, & Nephew to king Frisol: beside many other, who were brought vp in the Emperours Court, being some of them well nurtured in vertuous educati­ons, [Page] which are chiefest required, either in Princes, or Noble mens children: by which, both their owne Fame is increased, and a continuall renowne left to all their posteritie. King Fri­sol by the Emperours commandement, to all these gaue orders of knighthood, as also to Florendos and Flatir, both sonnes to the renowned Primaleon. These matters thus dispatched, they went vp into the Hall, which was very sumptuously ador­ned with cloathes of Gold, where euery Knight was placed at dinner, according to their estate and noblenesse of birth. The dinner ended, and the Tables withdrawne, the Emperor, with the Empresse, the Princesse Gridonia, and the faire Polynar­da, walked to the place where they should beholde the Try­umphes. And the knights hauing euery one appointed himselfe as the exercise required, came r [...]ing very brauely into the Tilt yard, of whom Palmerin was chosen chiefe Defendant, which what did stomacke the fonnes of Primaleon: till perceiuing the whole day was ordained in his honour, which mooued them to quietnesse, submitting themselues vnder his puissance, to shew their Prowesse and magnanimitie.

CHAP. XII.
How the Noble and couragious yong Knights, beganne the Tornament, each one behauing himselfe very valiantly. And how two Knights arriued there among them, attired in greene Armor, who behaued themselues brauely, in the presence of the Emperour.

[Page] THe Knights being all entred within the Lists, and the Trumpets sounded to be­gin the triumph, Palmerin who was ap­pointed to begin the first Iust, gaue curte­sie to his Lady Polinarda, and to himselfe thus opened his present thoughs.

My good Lady, whose beautie is the prize that allureth me to the field, & whose curtesie, is the honour I striue to attaine: let but your fauour remaine assured, and I dare warrant my selfe the victory: for as you are aboue all in beautie, so shall I by your bountie, conquer all mischances. Wherewith hee couched his speare against Libusan of Greece, enduring abraue Combate, till at last hée taught Libusan to sit his ho [...]aster. Palmerin nothing dis­mayed, but ioying that hee had conquered one of the chiefest knights of Greece, which greatly pleased the Emperour, and his Lady Polinarda, as also the whole company of knights, whose eyes were partners of this gallant exployt. The Prince Florendos encountred with Follane, and his brother Platir, with Attenebrant, the Blacke Knight, whose valure the one against the other, was no lesse chéerfull to the beholders, then delightfull to themselues. Gracian and Tragandor, brake their speares with such violence, that horse and man were sent to the ground. Berolde, Onistald, and Dramian, ran against Tru­siande, Clariball of Hungaria, and Emerolde the Faire: but Fortune was so aduerse to the thrée first, that they were all dis­mounted, and the Stéede of Onistalde, had one of his fore legs broken. Next them Don Rosuell, Estrellant, and Bellizart, re­ceiued the Countie Valerian, Archillagus, and his brother Guendolin: whose strength was farre too weake in resista [...]ce, and therefore bare dishonour forth of the field. Francian, Dri­dan, Tremoran, Germaine of Orleance, and Lnyman of Bur­gondy, met ioyntly with Crispian of Macedon, Foruolant and the strong Flauian: yet all vnhorsed, except Tremoran, who kept his saddle valiantly.

[Page] Thus was the first Encounter very gallantly discharged, to the no small pleasure of the Emperor & his Nobility, as also the Regardants, who gaue great commendation to the hautinesse of this 1. Exployt. Libusan of Greece, somewhat offended at his vnfortunate fall, was remounted by his fellowes, & entred the field, to reuenge him on his enemie, but Berolde of Spaine, receiuing him at the point of his Launce, charmed his bold at­tempt, with such Knightly behauiour, that he was estéemed for one of the chiefe knights in the triumph, as the rest of his déedes hereafter, will shew he deserued no lesse praise. Then Tituball, the Red Knight, Medrusian, the Fearefull, Tracandor, Trusi­ande, Trofoliant, Clariball of Hungaria, and the puissant Fro­uolant on the one side. And of the young Knights▪ were Gra­cian, Frisoll, Dramorant, Onistalde, Estrellant, Don Rosuell, Bellizart, Suyman of Burgondie, Bazilliart, Francian, and the Prince Florendos, all falling to wrastling, where they be­haued themselues, both with pollicie, and diuersitie of subtill sleights, that the Emperor and all the Ladies, tooke great plea­sure to behold them: supposing that the report of this famous Triumphe, would call home some of those Knights, who were in the search of the two stayed Princes. So that in briefe, the honour of Palmerin, and the other noble young Knights, was cōmended of euery one: especially of the fayre Polinarda, who gaue her seruant Palmerin no small commendations. The Empresse and Gridonia somewhat sad for Primaleon: yet re­ioyced to sée the towardly behauiour of young Palmerin, with all the Knightes of his traine, who had almost forced all the o­ther out of the Listes. But on the suddaine, entred among them two Knights brauely mounted, and attired all in gréene Armor, who running against two of the young Knights, brake their Speares very valiantly. Then laying handes to their Swoords, they dealt such Knightly blowes amongst them, that euery one was driuen into great admiration. Palmerin percei­uing the hardines of these two Knights, and doubting least his traine should be endaungered by them, bowed himselfe to his Lady Polinarda, and rode forward, vsing these spéeches to him­selfe: It is not swéete Lady, time that I should dismay my [Page] selfe, hauing your person before mée, whose sight is sufficient to conquere any proud enemy: But it is that time, wherein your name shalbe eternally honored, and your knight estéemed wor­thy so good a Mistresse.

So aduancing him to one of these strange knights, who was called of euery one, the Knight of the Sauage man: he looked on the deuice in his Sield, which was, a wild Man, leading a cou­ple of Lyons in his hand. After he had well viewed the Knight, he ioyned Combat with him, which was so fiertely handled on either part, that all which had passed before, was farre incom­parable to this fearefull assault.

The Regardants, seeing the equallitie of their strength, could not iudge to whom victory was likeliest, which caused the Emperour to meruaile, desirng that they might be parted but themselues would not thereto agrée in any wise. While they twaine thus egerly dealt with one another: Platir set vpon the companion of the Knight of the Sauage man, who was soone brought vnder, by the puissance of Platir, so all the other Knights were forced out of the Lists: Tremoran, Luyman of Burgondie, and Bellizart excepted, who were faine to be carri­ed foorth, they were so sore wounded.

The Emperour perceiuing the rough assault, betwéene Pal­merin & the knight of the Sauage man, was so ouercome with doubtes, that he scant knewe what to say, for that he estéemed this Combate, the best that euer he sawe in all his life time, not comparing the fight which himselfe had, with the Giant Dra­maque, nor his Encountring with Frenaque in England, nei­ther the Combate betwe [...]ne him & Frisol in France, for the con­tentiō about the Picture of the Empresse Polinarda, much lesse estéeming the hardy aduenture, betweene Primaleon, and the Prince Don Edward, giuing the onely praise of all, & aboue all, to the inuincible courage of these twaine. The Emperor percei­uing it drewe towardes night, and feared the endamagement that might come to either of them, sent cōmandement to leaue off, and fight no more, but they desirous still of victorie, would hardly agrée, till the Trumpet sounded the retrayt, that euery Knight must hasten vnto his Captaine. Then the two gréene [Page] knights (because they would not be knowne) departed secretly that way they came, and the Emperor with all his knights, de­parted to his Pallace, to a sumptueus Banquet, that was pre­pared for them, euery one forgetting the anger that was be­twéene each other at the Turnament. The Banquet ended, the knights fell to dancing, and Palmerin somewhat bashfull to speak to his Lady Polinarda, courted Dramaciana, daughter to the Duke Tirendos, and chiefe Gentlewoman attending on his Lady and Mistresse. The prince Florendos, because he would not straine ouermuch cutesie, tooke his sister Polinarda, with whom he thought he might lawfully be so bold. Platir, chose Floriana, the daughter of Ditree, and Néece to Frisoll of France, Gracian desired Claricia, the daughter to king Polen­dos of Thessalie. Berold Prince of Spaine, delighted in Onistal­da, daughter to the Duke of Normandie. Bellizart, requested Deiesa, daughter to the king of Sparta. And Francian, was a­morous of Vernande, daughter to the valiant Belcar. Thus e­uery one, after once Courting his Lady, fell to dancing, and so ended their pastime for that night.

The Emperor departed to his Chamber, accompanied with Palmerin, and the two noble sonnes of Primaleon, who with the Empresse Gridonia, and the faire Polinarda, all generally gaue great commendations to the braue behauiour of the yong Prince Palmerin. But the Emperor was somewhat offended, that the two gréene knights were so departed, without know­ledge from whence they came, or what they were: but as their courage made manifest, they were two valiant approued knights at Armes, and deserued the reward of honour, [...] where euer they came. Thus reioyced the Emperour, for that in his Court, remained the flower of all Chiualrie: both in the young knights, who neuer tryed themselues before, as also the coura­gious Palmerin, whose hardinesse would giue place to no ha­zard, which made the Emperour famous, and themselues en­rolled in the booke of eternall memory.

CHAP. XIII.
How on the next day after the Triumphes, a Lady arriued at the Emperors Court, declaring of a Shield which was sent from the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley, to the yong Prince Palmerin: and was taken from her, by the Knight of the Sauage man, who kept the same in the For­rest of the Cleare Fountaine, vntill any Knight durst ad­uenture to fetcht it from him. And how many Knights en­terprised to winne it, but lost their labour, till Palmerin came, who brought it away with him.

ON the morrow after the Tournament, the Emperour accompanied with Kng Frisol, and all the other young Knights sate in his great hall, giuing such cōmmendations to their late taken trauell, that they estéemed themselues highly honoured, to finde such curtesie at the Emperors hands, euery one wishing they might haue gained knowledge of the two gréen knights, that behaued themselues so worthily. To breake off their talke, there suddainly entred before them, a Damosell at­tyred after the English fashion, in a Robe of Veluet, and about her middle a skirt of Gold: and her face endued with no lesse beautie, then her garments were adorned with sumptuous brauery. When shée had well beheld all the knights, and fay­ling of the person she sought to finde, bending her knées to the Emperour, thus vsed her salutations.

Most renowned Emperor, whose name is no lesse honored then your déedes held worthy of immortall memory: pardon the rude entrance of a bold maiden, and attend the discourse I shall deliuer to your Maiestie. The great and Sauadge [Page] Magitian, named the Sage Aliart, of the Obscure Valley, who hartily wisheth your continuall happinesse, in faithfull oath of his obedience, kisseth the hands of your Imperial Maiesty. And because your highnesse hath bin lately conquered by much sad­nesse, to the no small gréefe of your Courtly assistants, as also himselfe, who is your vnknown subiect, he promiseth your losse shall be recouered to your ioy, when neither Fortune shall let it, nor any mishap auouch the contrary. The cause of my com­ming was to present you with a Shield, which by your Maie­sties hands, should be giuen to the famous yong knight, that in your Triumph won the honour of the day, and bears the title of perfect knighthood as his iust desert. But as I haue often heard yet dare [...]cantcy credite, A tale of more noueltie, then impor­ting any truth: that your lawes did reuenge the iniuries of Ladies, and that your knights in such causes would aduenture their liues. Well it may be so, but I finde it not so, or perhaps my misfortune denies it should be fo: for that I haue safely tra­uelled through many a fortaine Coast, and found rescue of di­uers noble Knights, in euery straunge Countrey, till happe­ning into your dominion, where I least suspected doubt, and there, too soone I fell into extreame daunger: which I must ey­ther admit to mine owne mishap, or to such vnkinde Knights, as deny to helpe faire Ladies, in so great a hazard. For the Shield I had in charge to deliuer your Maiestie, & the reward of that knight, whose desert is méetest, is taken from me, by a Knight in gréene Armor, who bearing in his Shield, a Sauage man, leading two Lyons. And thus he willed me to certifie the Knight, whose valure & worthinesse hath deserued this Shield, that he will méete him within these thrée dayes, in the Forest of the Cleare Fountaine, where, if he méete him not, or some o­ther knight for him, to fetch that away, which I haue vnhappi­ly lost, vndoubtedly he will beare the Shield away with him. For this cause did I so circumspectly behold your Knights, to try if any Fortune had beene so good, to know that couragious minde, for whom I entred my trauayle. And thus hauing done my duetie, I referre the rudenesse of my discourse, to your gra­tious pardon, whose wisedome will accept the simple declarati­on, [Page] considering that Maidens are seldome acquainted with elo­quence. The Emperor pondering on the damosels words, with the friendly message of the Sage Aliart, whom he neuer heard off before, sent her to the Empresse, and the Princesse Gridonia who receiued her so honorably, as the hope they had in her glad tydings, encreased their comfort. Vpon these newes, diuers of the knights determined with themselues, to goe fetch the La­dies Shielde, resoluing them thus, that if it were their For­tune to winne it, the honour were inestimable, that they shoul [...] gaine by so braue a victorie. Whereupon Clariball of Hungaria Emeralde the Fayre, Crispian of Macedon, Flauian, Rotandor Medrusian the Fearefull, Trofollant, and the proud Foruolant, who were no friends to the Emperour, but came to the Tour­nament to séeke reuengement of ancient malice that they bare vnto his Maiestie, for that certaine of their Predecessors, had felt the force of his furie. And a fresh spight was engendred, be­cause the young knights had giuen them such a great disgrace before their Ladies: wherefore they would pursue the knight of the Sauage man, and win the Shéeld from all the knights that should come after them. When they were come to the For­rest of the Cleere Fountaine, they beheld the shéeld, hanging on a Trée hard by the Fou [...]taine, and the noble Knight the Sa­uage man, there ready to defend it. Foruolant tooke the courage to giue him the first assault: who being set beside his Saddle, had his shéeld and helmet, hanged on the Trée, in signe hée was conquered. He had not long staid, but Crispian of Macedō, Cla­riball, Emerald, Flauian, & Rotandor, bare him cōpany, whose shéelds and helmets were likewise placed, as vanquished. Tro­follant séeing the hard hap of his companions, & somwhat angry at the hauty courage of the knight of the Sauage m [...]n, thought to haue done more then his strength would permit, & so was dismounted, with his horse vpon him. Hauing recouered him­selfe on his féete, he drew his sword, and began a fresh encoun­ter. At which time Palmerin, accompanied with diuers noble knights, as Gracian, Dramian, Florendos, Platir, & the rest ar­riued there, & saw Trofollant sent to his conquered cōpanions whereupon the Prince Palmerin, began in this maner. My de­sire [Page] is sir knight, neither for gaine or glory, but for friendly af­fection I beare you, to bind vp your wounds, which are as grie­uous to my sight, as to you who féele them. Yet not respecting more friendship of you, thē I desire to find at the hands of mine enemy. The knight of the Sauage man, not staying for his an­swer, thus shortly answered. Sir, if the apparance of my griefe, take such desire in you to do me good, you may do as you shal find occasion, & I remaine the more déepe in your debt. But I iudge you are either ouerfond, or else forgetfull of your selfe, to offer such friendship to a stranger, who doth neither desire it, nor can any way deserue it, you being as I suppose, rather come to stay me, then salue me. Sir (quoth Palmerin) the estate I sée you in, doth cōmand me to vse this spéech, & constraine me (if I might) to be your succour, neither fearing what you can doe, or falling one iote from that I should doe. But to tell you why I come, is to desire you by intreaty, or cōpel you by force, to restore a shield againe, which you haue disloyally taken from a trauelling La­dy. Considering you might diminish your honour if you should deale with her so vngratefully, & séeme an enemy to knighthood, in not regarding to helpe the wrong of any iniured Lady. The knight of the Sauage man, beholding the great courtesie of Pal­merin, & estéeming his words to be spoken for his aduantage: both conquered by his braue behauiour, as also the inward af­fection that did naturally moue him, gaue him this answere. I haue often heard (Sir knight) that wordes can more déepely wound, then weapons, & that courtesie can compell, where cru­elty may neuer conquer. Such hath bin your high good fortune at this time, & such is the knightly demeanor that I haue séene, as your gentle language hath entred, where your lance cannot, and your friendship woon more, then either feare or force may constraine. And séeing you haue takē the paines to find me out, and haue done more at this instant, then before could any, I de­liuer you the shield, as best worthy to weare it, both for the gifts of Nature, which florish in you abundantly, & gratious Nature which doeth adore you nobly. With these words, he imbracing the P. Palmerin, presently mounted on horsebacke, & departed. Then returned the Prince accompanied with his knights, who were greatly delighted in beholding the Shield: In the midst [Page] where, in a Field of Azure, was placed a very faire Palme Trée, so liuely framed, as if it had béene a naturall Trée: and that which was most wondred at of them all, was a certaine Poesie in Letters of Gold, engrauen round about the sides, so darkely placed, that none in the company could iudge what they should meane. At length they came to the Court, when the Emperour was newly rysen from supper, who being certi­fied of al that had happened, was very much displeased in mind, because his whole desire was, to haue had knowledge of this valiant Knight of the Sauage man.

Then taking the Shield, and looking very earnestly vpon it, hée sent for the Damosell, to know the Poesie that was [...]ngra­uen about it. The Damosell answered, I would most gracious Emperour, it were in my power to fulfill your request: but be­ing as ignorant therof, as you or any other, I must desire your gracious pardon. When she saw the Emperor had giuen Pal­merin the Shield, who vowed to vse it as became a Knight at Armes, Making her obeysance to his Maiesty, and al the other Knights, shee presently tooke her leaue, and departed. And the Emperor determined among all his Knights, to consider more largely on this strange aduenture.

CHAP. XIIII.
In this Chapter is largely described, who was the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley: that sent the Damosell with the Shield of the Palme Tree, to the Emperours Court; to be­stow the same on the valiant yong Prince Palmerin.

BEcause you shll bee resolued, who was the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley, and why hee tearmed himselfe by such an vncustomed name, marke what this Chapter shall giue in relation, and then consider of his procéedings afterward.

[Page] When the P. Don Edoard left the realme of Lacedemonia, and as occasion willed him, to stay in the Empire of Grrece, af­ter he had deliuered the king Tarnaes, forth of the cruel enchan­ted Castle, he entred a Galley, and so departed on his voyage. Not long had they bin on the seas, but that a Damosell sudden­ly chanced into the Galley, not vsing speech to any: but taking the principall Ore in her hand, turned their passage quite con­trary to another Iland, where Don Edward being landed, deli­uered a comely knight out of the hands of diuerse cruel tyrants, who were leading him to abide an vnmercifull death.

The Damdsell conducted the Prince, to the habitation of Argonida, where being friendly entertayned, and staying as a welcōmed Guest, such conuersation was betwéene them, that they had two goodly Sonnes, named Pompider, and this Sage Aliart, of whom wée meane to discourse. Whose Grandmo­ther being expert in the Science of Magicke, nourished this Aliart out of popular conuersation, that thorowe her meanes, hee became maruailous ingenious of wit, and very skilfull in her diuelish exercise, so that he was esteemed the notablest Ma­gitian in all the world, whose memory being not touched in the booke of Primaleon, I will declare in what order hee passed his whole life.

This Aliart, reputed of no lesse fame then learning, was not inferiour to any, but bare the estimation aboue all, so that none durst offer him iniurie, albeit he deserued it, nor none would contend with him, they stood in such awe. He seeing himselfe honoured of the mighty, when they durst doe no other, and lo­ued of the most part, for his excellent cunning, beganne to ex­ercise himselfe in Martiall exploytes, which shewed him to bée the Sonne of the renowned Don Edward. And hauing recey­ued his Knighthood at the handes of the Giant Garatie, he be­haued himselfe as famous in his exploites, as he was estéemed singular in his practised Arte. And then hee vnderstood his Fathers imprisonment, with the noble Primaleon, in the Ca­stell at Dramusiande, who by the skill of his Aunt Eutropa, en­deuoured to haue all the flower of Chiualrie in like captiuitie. But albeit the imprisonment of these Princes, was vnknown [Page] to all the Knightes, that laboured continually in their search: yet this Aliart was so well acquainted with the matter, as they that kept it most secrete, for that his Arte gaue him the power to knowe, what was done in all Countreyes in the world. For when the Grecian knights, whose affection to these two Prin­ces, caused them to leaue their natiue Countrey, and were hap­pened into the vnfortunate forrest of great Brittaine, which was brauely replenished with many couragious hearts, as also sundry gallant Ladies, preparing many hard aduentures, there were very fewe escaped, but for the most part, were all lost in this vnfortunate search. Among which noble mindes, was Recined Prince of Spaine, Arnedes King of France, Ma­iortes, and Sir Pridos, whose absence was greatly bemoned in the English Court. The Princes Belcar, & Vernar, Ditree, and the Soldan, Bellagris, with the renowned Polendos. All these for the honourable affection they bare to the strayed Princes, left their kingdomes and signories, and vnhappily were taken prisoners in this cruel enchaunted Castell, which was great griefe to their friends, and inestimable sorrowe to their well peopled Dominions. When Aliart had considered all these vn­fortunate accidents, enterprised so ho [...]ourably, and falling out so vnhappily, he determined to hazard himselfe in the search of his father, and to try his strength against the Giant Dramusi­ande, whose force he little or nothing estéemed, but bare a great desire to his aduenture, which could no way be finished, but by his meanes onely.

In this mind he departed to the Valley of Perdition, which was named so, because all the noble Knights were there lost: and there he determined to make his habitation, to follow his studie, and prouide remedies against diuerse mischanches that were like to happen. And because his nature desired to be soli­tary, in that his bringing vp was forth of all company, he buil­ded him a little Fortresse betwéene two great high mountaines, which kept the light of the Sunne away by day, and the Moone in y night season. This dwelling he called the Obscure Valley, but others tearmed it, the Valley aboce the Clowdes: the en­trance whereof could not be found by any, as Aliart caused the [Page] Giant Trabollant, to know to his cost, with his son also, who was Lord of a faire Castell in a Velley néere adioyning, which Aliart had newly erected, & garnished within, with many faire Bookes, where spending his time very long in studie, at last, he got the meane to be called Sage. Thus liued the Sage Aliart, in this Obscure Volley, often vsing to the Castle of Dramusi­ande, bemoning the misfortune of the Knights, which he could no way remedy, till the appointed time. The often repayring of the Sage Aliart, caused both Eutropa to doubt something, and Dramusiande to stand in great feare: yet could they no way hinder him, when it was his pleasure, to visite the captiue prin­ces. And as he sate one day very pensiue in his study, he vnder­stood by his Art of the triumpes at Constantinople, when the Emperour would try the yong Knights, that he had nourished in his Court. Against which time he framed a shield, which hee sent by a Damosell, to Palmerin of England, to beare it with him in all aduentures that he should vndertake: but by the way it was taken from her by the knight of the Sauage man (whom hereafter I will disclose vnto you,) yet restored againe by the gentlenesse of language, that the Prince Palmerin vsed with him. Thus remayned the Sage Aliart, expecting the time, for the deliuery of the Princes, who concealed their griefes, and spent their time in silent opinions, as both their miserie would suffer them, and their litle rest inferre occasion. Yet neuer fallig one iote in amitie, though they had a world of woes, to con­straine them to it.

CHAP. XV.
How Belcar and Vernar, after they were cured of their wounds they had receiued one against the other, arriued at the Castle of Dramusiande, accompanied with Polen­dos, King of Thessale, where after Combate entred be­tweene them, they were all taken prisoners.

[Page] VErna Prince of Almaigne, & Belcar, Duke of Duras, remained in the Citie of Brique, till they felt themselues in good disposition of their health, and then they departed to London, to the English Court, disguised and vnwilling to be knowne, to sée if hap­pily they might attaine the sight of the Prince Flerida.

The Princesse remaining still pensiue, and therefore kept her Chamber, and they fayling of theyr pretended purpo [...]e, tra­uailed thorowe great Britaine, where they valiantly reuenged the quarels of Ladies, and enlarged the report of their redoub­ted Knighthood, which neither time can weare out of memory, nor death it selfe by any meanes dissolue.

Procéeding thus in their aduenturous trauaile, Eutropa had gotten them within her circuite, that she was as sure of them, as had they bene in her prison, but yet let them alone awhile, to try the hardnes of their Fortune. They hauing spent the day in trauaile, and the darke night ouercharging them, with her vn­comfortable houres, they determined to take their rest at the foote of a Trée, for that they were farre from any other prouisi­on. So alighting, and giuing their Horses to their Esquiers, Belcar sat [...] him dowe, & fell soundly asléepe, but Vernar, whose minde was on his faire Bazilia, satte conferring with her Shrine, hauing no stomacke to sléepe. And that hee might the better accomplish his amourous deuises, he withdrew himselfe to a little Riuer, a pretty way from his friend Belcar, and there what with the swéete Harmonie of the little Byrdes, and the silent passions he vsed to himselfe, the gentle prince was great­ly delighted.

Polendos K. of Thessalie, wandring that way, by Fortune tooke his place of rest, neere to the Prince Vernar, where hee heard all the louely Ditties, and swéete discourses, that hee vsed in commendation of his fayre Bazilia, being very loath to disquiet him, or to be knowne that he was so neere. But at last [Page] tooke occasion by the braue inuentions that he had heard vttred by the Prince Vernar, to enter into commendation of his owne Lady, faire Francelina, and so they twaine, in this manner▪ pas­sed away the weary night. In the morning, when he might easi­ly espye the Prince Vernar, hee could not hide his presence any longer, but went to him with his salutation. I know Syr Ver­nar, that your amorous Passions of extreame griefe, will scant suffer your opprssed head, to enioy any gladnesse, because the re­membrance of your faire Bazilia, hath vrged you this Night, to bewray the sundry assaults of an afflicted minde. Whose farre distaunce from your presence, hath made you grieuously to sigh, when you would gladly haue slept, wherof your Friend is a wit­nes, who is not a little forrie to vnderstand your w [...]es.

Vernar embracing the noble Polendos▪ declared the great ioy he conceiued for his company, yet somewhat displeased that any should be priuy to his Amorous complaints, which might cause him to bee iudged rather effeminate, then any way Famous. While they were earnest in talking, Belcar came walking vn­to them, who reioycing at the sight of the King Polendos, em­braced him, vsing these pleasant sp [...]eches. I care not greatly, if I take reuengement now, for the sharp assault you gaue me at the Port of Corderia, where you bare away the prize, and I the re­pulse, but Vernar will be loath that wee should fight: therefore let vs all ioyne together like trusty Friends.

After many gratulations passed on all partes, they mounted on Horsebacke, and rode on, recounting the Aduentures hadde happened each other, in séeking the Prince Don Edoard. And Polendos rehearsed vnto them, howe hee brought the young Prince Palmerin to Constantinople, not forgetting the Letter sent by the Lady of the Lake, & was only procured by the Sage Aliart, of the Obscure Valley: which made both Belcar and Vernar, somewhat abashed, to heare the happy successe that had chaunced. In continuance of this talke, they came before the Castell of Dramusiande: euery one giuing his verdicte on the Braue [...]e and strength of this Fortresse, till at length, to put them foorth of these thoughtes, the Prince Don Edoard came vpon the Bridge, in the same order as he fought with the noble [Page] Primaleon which vrged Polendos to this pause. Me thinkes this Castle should be inuincible, if it be well prouided within, of such good Knights as this which wee sée without. Vppon this accident, the Prince Vernar preuailed by intreatie, to haue the first Iouste with Don Edward, where presently they Encoun­tred onean other, with such large appearance of Knighthood, that Don Edward loste one of his Styrrops, and the Prince Vernar was vnhorssed. And hauing recouered himselfe, he drewe his Sworde, and came couragiously to him againe, but Don Ed­ward stayed, deliuering him these spéeches. Syr knight, it may bee that your skill on Foote, is more agreeable to your strength, then the foresight you haue on Horsebacke, the which I would it might haue beene my happe to trye, but it hath not so pleased him, to wh [...]m I am subiect, for that against euery Knight that commeth, I am allowed but the first Exployte.

Then Belcar very desirous to enter the Combatet, pacifie Prince Vernar, with these fewe words. Syr Vernar, since the Knight hath fulfilled his first, and we remaine to beginne a fresh Challenge, you may not refuse to forbeare the Fight, conside­ring he hath obserued his dutie in the Field. Wherevpon Don Edward and Belcar, beganne the second Encounter, whose hap was so hard, to beare his friend Vernar companie. Which Po­lendos pe [...]ceyuing, began the thirde Iouste, very couragiously, which remained a whilesome what doubtfull, for that they had battered one an others Armour very much, till at last, Polendos was dismounted likewise.

Then came foorth the Giant Pandare, commaunding Don-Edward to goein againe: to whose commaund he obeyed, very sorie that he might not speake to the knight he last ranne with­all. So entring into the Castle, the Prince Vernar thrust in af­ter him, to whom Don Edward presently said. Sir Vernar, your will hath ledde you beyond your witte, for that in this place you shall abide more distresse then in all your life time: you cannot fall into like danger, but he that is desperate of himselfe, would little estéeme his Friends life. Vernar hearing these words, and not knowing who he was, and halfe angry at his ill lucke, made him this answere. Syr, I estéeme your witte, as litle as my [Page] wisdome, and your friendship so simple, that I will scant impute any troth to your words: And this vnderstand, that neither year, nor any shall withdraw my desire, although I buy it with mine owne death. At which words, Pandare saluted him with his Mace, so that betweene them twaine, was a fierce skirmish, and Primaleon leaning in his Chamber windowe, tooke great plea­sure to beholde the hautie courage of Vernan, whose name being knowne vnto Dramusiande, he was not a little glad of him, for that his Father Trincus was also the causer of the death of his Father Frenaque. Vernar so long assailed Pandare, that he had broken his Sword to his hand, and his Shielde c [...]eane through the middle, whereat Pandare being somwhat angry, caught him in his armes, aud shaking him very sore, threwe him against the ground, that it was doubtfull if he had any life left in him: wherefore he was presently carryed into Don Edoards Cham­ber, where prouision was made to relieue his owne estate.

Then was the Gate held open, [...]ill Belcar and Polendos were entred, when it was presently shut againe, and then came Pan­dare against Belcar, who receyued him very couragiously, but yet was brought vnder, and carryed in to his friend Verner. Po­lendos séeing hee must [...]éeds enter Combate, and that Pandare prepared himselfe against him: first summoned him with these words. Me thinkes it were for thy great honour, as also expe­dient for reseruing thy health, to yéelde thy selfe to mee, who ra­ther respect mercie, then to enter fight on a man, so cruelly man­gled. Doo but behold thine owne blood, and then consider of my pro [...]e [...]ad bounty, so shall thy life be saued, and mine honor reser­ued. Sir (said Pandare) if I should submit my selfe to thy will, thou mightst account my wit to be euer weake, or if I would stand to thy mercie, I should shewe mine owne cowardise, and no manhood: Wherefore resolue thy selfe, that I will yéeld with thy death, which is the sūme of my desire. With that they fell to their fight, wherin Polendos preuailed so happily, that Pandare was thought past all recouery. Whervpon, the cruell Alligan came foorth to defend him▪ who finding himselfe also to be mated euery way, & in frustrate hope of victory any way, he dispaired of himselfe: and in fine, they were both so faint and wearyed, that [Page] they fell downe, neyther gayning the Conquest of the other. Don Edoard and Primaleon tooke Polendos into their Cham­ber, where to their thrée Patients, they both vsed wholsome and comfortable Physicke: being very sorrie, that the misfortune of them twaine, should bring so many Noble Princes, and Ad­uenturous Knightes into that cruell Castell. Yet did they re­maine in good hope, which they found with as good hap, in that at the appointed time, they were deliuered by a strange Knight, who was hardly knowne to any of them. Then Dramusiande went about the Cure of his sicke personnes, that they might be in good health, when any other Knights should happen to come.

CHAP. XVI.
¶Howe Recinde King of Spayne, and Aruiedes King of France, left theyr Royall Dominions, to wander in the searche strayed Prince Don Edoard. And of the Ad­uenture that hapned betweene them, the Black Knight, and the Knight of the Dogge, when they were arriued at the Castle of Dramusiande.

RECINDE King of Spayne, hearing the great pursuite of many Noble Knights, to make enquyrie of the two young Princes, Don Edoard, and Primaleon, he absolute­ly determined with himselfe, to trye the ha­zard of Fortune, if that his employed paines might compasse any good lucke. And leauing the whole Gouernment of his Estate, to the Duke Orliande, and the Marquesse Richard, of no lesse Valiancie then true Nobilitie: Departed with no body, but his Esquyre attending on him, through many Countreyes, till he came to the Courte [Page] of France, where he was Royallie and gratiously receiued by the King Arnedes. Who vnderstanding the summe of his no­ble determination, and being him selfe affected to those woorthie Princes, commited his Kingdome to his Quéene Melitia, and trauelled with Recinde, in this hautie enterprise.

After long trauell, they arriued at the English Courte, being so disguised, that they were not knowne to any, where because they could not sée the Princesse Flerida, they would not stay, but departed on theyr Iourney. And hearing that all the Knights were lost in the Forrest of great Brittaine, and that they which entred there, were not séent to returne, they made theyr course that way, till mishap brought them to this cruell Castle, where on a sudden they met with two Knights, excellently well moun­ted. The one hauing his Armour spotted with red and crimzen colours, and in his Shielde for his deuise, he bare a Dogge, vp­pon an Azure Fielde. The other Knight was all in blacke Ar­mour, and his Shield of the same colour, without any other de­uise: these foure mette together, striuing which of them should first enter vpon the Bridge. Don Edward being come foorth, and séeing them at such controuersie, sought to ende the matter with these words. Gentlemen, if you come for honour, or for zeale, to trie the magnanimity of your courage, striue not in this order, which may returne to your great discredites, but let him that is boldest first beginne: so shall you finish what I iudge you come for.

Vppon these words, Recinde couched his Speare, but the Knight of the Dogge offered him this stay. Syr, it séemes you neither regard ciuilitie, nor Knightly courtesie, to offer mee this great wrong: who both came before you, and was prepared before you, and therefore of right ought to beginne before you. Recinde, somwhat mooued at these wordes, shaped him this replie. Syr, if in a brauery you séeke to goe beyond mée, or in peremptory wordes, to beare the Prize away, you are farre de­ceyued: for that words cannot cutface me, nor your weapons feare me, for I was first prouided, and therefore will not be pre­uented. Don Edward perceyuing these questions were like to grow to a Quarrell, assayed once more to set them at quiet, and [Page] thus he began. This suddaine enmity, driueth me to a shr [...]wde suspition, that you come more to talke, then to try your man­hoode, or rather to ieast, then to Iust. If you are disposed, let the other twaine come and deale with me, in meane time, you may try which of you shall be first, or last.

The knight of the Dogge being greatly vexed, as well at the words of Don Edward, as also the stay Recinde helde him in: charged him very boldly in this maner. Since you haue denied me my right, and offered me wordes importing great rygor, know that I will reuenge this wrong vppon your person, and die in the field, [...]re I put vp this iniury. Wherewith they ran together very fiercely, and Arnedes prepared himselfe to the Blacke Knight, so that betwéene them began a hot skirmish, wherein Horse and Men were al laide on the ground. Then ri­sing vp againe, and drawing foorth theyr swordes, they charged one an other with such mightie strokes, that their singular cou­rage made manifest the valure of theyr noble mindes.

Dramusiande accompanied with Primaleon, Polendos, and the other knights, stood looking forth at a window of the Castle: giuing no lesse commendation to this notable combat, then the behauiour of the Knights did iustly deserue. Yet none of them could iudge of whence, or what they were, sauing that Don Ed­ward knew the Knight of the Dogge, (by remembrance that he was alwaies wont to beare that deuice) to be the couragious knight Maiortes, not knowing any of the other, but cōmended them all, as they were well worthy: Maiortes throwing downe his sword, ioyned Armes with his enemy, to try his strength in wrastling and Arnedes likewise reciued the Blacke knight, so that the blood issued forth vpon theyr Armor, & they althrough great weakenesse fell downe on the earth. Then came foorth Dramusiande with his Noble Prisoners (whose promise made vnto him by oath, would not suffer them to start away) and ta­king off theyr Helmets, Primaleon knew the Blacke Knight, to be the Soldan Bellagris, & certified Dramusiande, that the other twaine were Recinde King of Spaine, and Arnedes, king of France: who were all presently caried into the Castle, that their wounds might be cured, and themselues recouered.

[Page] Dramusiande vsed all the Knights very honorably, refusing to take extreame reuenge for his fathers death, but supposed their imprisonment, to be punishment sufficient. And for this cause he shewed himselfe more milde & gentle, because through their helpe, he had good hope to conquere the Isle of the Lake, which was kept by the Giant Almadrago, who in time past, had ta­ken it from him by force. In time, Maiortes the Knight of the Dog, the Soldian Bellagris, the Blacke Knight, Arnedes, & the King Recinde, had all obtained their former health, reioycing that they were imprisoned with their dearest friends, whome they trauailed to seeke, & had so happily found. But the Prince Don Edward, was not obliuious of his faire Lady Flerida, as also the griefe hee supposed in his aged Father, whose sorrowe procéeded through his great misfortune, which in time hee had good hope should turne to as great ioy.

CHAP. XVII.
How Palmerin of England, desirous of trauaile to seeke after strange aduentures, tooke the courage to speake to his La­dy and Mistresse Polinarda, as loth to depart without her leaue: And hauing sustained a grieuous repulse, departed secretly from the Court, not taking leaue of any, calling himselfe the Knight of Fortune.

AFter that the yong Knights, had made ma­nifest their great expertnesse in many Tri­umphes, for the honour of thier Ladies, and estimation they helde of themselues, the Emperour grewe into more pleasant con­ceyts, then of long time before hee had vsed the like, causing euery night dances and de­uises to be performed, for the delight of the Empresse, and the Princesse Gridonia: but the faire Bazilia still refused their com­pany, for that the absence of the prince Vernar, caused her spend her time in pensiuenesse.

[Page] Palmerin of England, affecting strange aduentures, and de­sirng with other Knights, to make proofe of his Knighthood, would gladly discouer his earnest minde, but that hee feared to procure the ill will of his Mistresse. It chanced on a night, the Princesse Polinarda was sitting very solitary, and Palmerin came and sate downe by her, both of them ouercome with ma­ny grieuous Passions, and both striuing to speake, yet neither would begin. As commonly it fareth with those, that march vn­der the Ensigne of amorous Venus, who are subiect to many e­feminate follies, as an idle head, a dulled wit, a pale and wan­ny face, their thoughts still silent, yet alwaies at worke, their mind mute, yet neuer in quiet, speaking faintly, behauing themselues fondly, walking solitarie, and vsing sickly ieastures, euer exclaiming on Cupid, but neuer remembring their owne cowardise; still crying, fie on Loue, when it were more meete to correct the folly of their life.

These are the Passions of a Louer, which entreth through Idlenesse, is kindled by Desire, set on fire by affection, and if Perseuerance helpe not, is vtterly wasted by Desperation. After Palmerin had sitten a good while, and his Lady stil silent, he gaue her occasion to speake by these spéeches. Faire Mistres, if I might as fréely speake with your blame, as my thoughts are farre from any spot to bounty, I should then estéeme my self happy, in gaining such leaue, as I account my selfe honoured by your gracious loue. Yet perswading my selfe, your gentle na­ture will not quip your friend, nor giue any crosse motion that may cut his fancie by your pardon, and on no presumption, I shall yeeld the circumstance of my discourse to your gentle con­struction.

It is so, that feeling in my selfe the desire of honour, which I can no way attaine, but by some hautie enterprise, I haue thought good to venter among the Pikes of mischaunces, either to encrease my renowne, or ende my life in an infamous re­proch. For many wil send at large their spéeches of defame, and on a priuate spight seeke to worke me discredite: as lo, there is the Knight that crept into his Fetherbed, when Fame doth al­lure him into the Warlike field. But he hath more minde to [Page] Maske with Venus, then march with Mars, wearing a Gloue for his Lady, when he should vse a Gantlet for her loue.

These speeches, faire Mistresse, is more grieuous to your ser­uant then his patience can expresse, or your gentle nature suffer to heare. Which to auoide, as well to proue my loyaltie, which vnspotted I beare you, as also to shew my dutie, wherewith I honour your noble father, I haue vowed to indeuour my selfe in this attempt, which will be no lesse welcome vnto your séemely selfe, then it hath been long wished [...]f your vowed seruant. For neither can any danger withdraw my mind, nor any doubt cause me to thinke on mishap, hauing your licence, which is the courage of my trauaile, and your gracious loue, which awar­deth al troubles. So that in any accident which may annoy me, or any oppression, that may suddenly deceiue me: I liued your Knight in fauour, and will die your Knight in fame: and as you onely haue the flower of my loue, so shall it neuer fade, till the latter end of my life.

The Princesse Polinarda perceiuing his intent, & her gentle heart, loath to haue his absence so soone, with the teares stan­ding in her eyes, thus made her answere. Seruant, such hath been the courtesie at your hands I haue found, and so loyall the continuance of your promised faith, that neither am I able to gratifie as I would, or to giue you the honour, that by dutie I should. Your princely behauiour made me choose you for my ser­uant, and your equiuolent bountie, made you loued of my selfe: so that I loued none more then you, albeit none knewit so little as you. Beside, the estimation [...]y father hath alwaies giuen you, with the notable deserts, hath euer been in your selfe, in­creased the loue of all to you aboundantly, but chiefly my loue, which as yet flameth freshly. But [...]nce the desire of your depar­ture groweth thorow mee, and perhaps there is some occasion that grieueth you, I would be glad to know my crime, that I may make you recompence, for I had rather giue you leaue to tarrie, then grant you licence to depart.

Ladie (quoth Palmerin) though the cause be in you, yet is it no crime, and though I depart for your sake, yet am I free from a­ny such suspect: for it is onely the fauour I haue found at your [Page] handes, and the friendship you haue granted to my continuall honour: that I can no way recouer you such duetie as I ought, albeit I trauailed for your sake, through my whole life. And to sée such a gratious person vnrequited, my selfe being now of yéeres, to put recompence in proofe, I might rightly deserue to be reproched of all men, much more to be refused of so swéete a Saint. The Princesse arising in a maruellous choller, highly offended at his passed talke, she gaue him this cooling, to quaile his hot attempt. I haue often trusted, and béene rewarded with treason, and where I placed stedfast affection, I haue bin soonest beguiled: which now I repent, when it is too late, and bridle my fancy, when I sée mine owne folly. Wherefore, séeing my fault is such, as you can rather afford me your roome, then your company, I giue you this command, in your poasting voyage, that as you wil thinke to honour me, séeme not to presume into my presence, which I both bind you by my duty, and straightly command you to obserue. So turning her back, she flung away in a fume: leauing Palmerin in such an alteration, as one could hardly iudge, if he had any life left in him. But as happe was, no body was present to descrie his heauy complaintes, for that euery body had conducted his Lady to her Chamber: sauing the Princesse Polinarda, who stayed not to be intreated, but went flinging through the Gallerie, as greatly vexed, as she had left her seruant passioned.

Palmerin departing to his lodging, tossing and tumbling him­selfe on his restlesse bedde, and at euery thought of his Ladies discurtesie, hee fell into an agonie as bitter as the death, not suffering sléepe to enter into his head, but still bewayled the estate of his aduerse hap. At last, when Aurora was risen, out of the armes of olde Titan her husband, hée determined to ful­fill his Ladies commaund, albeit to his great paine, in graun­ting consent. Then getting on his Armour, which bare the colour of a Harte in the Forrest, very thickly set with little golden shrubbes, and bearing in his Shield Fortune, holding her tottering and vnsteady whéele, and naming himselfe the Knight of Fortune, hee very secretly departed, accompanied with Siluian the Sauage mans sonne, whome he called bro­ther, [Page] because they were nourished together, and hee bare the Shield of the Palme Tree, that was sent him from the Sage A­liart, neither taking leaue of the Emperor, nor of any, but in the vehemency of his griefe, mounted on horsebacke, & so rode both away. All the way as they rode, Siluian endeuored himselfe by perswasion, to driue away his heauinesse, but he was as farre from his purpose, as the Prince himselfe was deuoide of pati­ence, who rode on, vsing no words, he was ouercome with such an extreame melancholy. Yet was his affection so earnestly grounded on his Lady, as he vowed in her behalf, to aduenture his life, not doubting, but the duety hee would shewe in her ab­sence, should win her fauour againe, and grant him her pre­sence.

CHAP. XVIII.
How Palmerin of England, vnder the title and name of the Knight of Fortune, still continued in his pensiue iourney, till at last he happened on a Castle, where, in the honour of his faire Ladie and Mistresse, the Princesse Polinarda, hee conquered a Knight, who tearmed himselfe, the Knight of Death.

STill trauailed the valiant Prince Palme­rin, heauy, sadde, and greatly lamenting his so late misfortune, neither resting in any pla [...]e, or abyding in any place, or abyding in any company, but only his brother Siluian, who he both loued and highly estéemed. At last, happening into a a Groue of Trées, he espied a very faire Castle, standing very solitary, beset round a­bout with a gréene bancke, at sight whereof, the Prince aligh­ted, which Siluian perceiuing, alighted likewise, aud ledde both the Steedes to pasture.

[Page] In which time, Palmerin seeing no body néer, and remembring the great vnkindnesse of his Ladie, entred into these heauie mournings. O Palmerin, son to a poore Sauage man, and borne in the vnfortunate forrest of great Britaine, too soone preferred to honor, and too late thrown down into hatred. What regard haddest thou of a Princesse, thy selfe being a poore Pesant? Or what estimation hadst thou of modestie, to mooue so great of­fence in thy gracious Mistresse, whose loue was the only state of thy life, and whose fauour was the flower of thy prosperitie? Ah sweet Ladie, on your courteous pitie, let passe my presump­tion, and what hath been more then dutie, impute to may rude behauiour, which your clemencie may both punish and pardon. And yet my good Ladie, if you respect my trusty seruice, with the constant loyaltie I haue alway borne to your Soueraigntie, my fault committed rashly, deserueth no such repulse, in that this ingratitude is too much for you to shew, and more then I can any way suffer. For if you regard your owne beauty, with the stayed assurance of your seruants bountie, you shall per­ceiue my words to bee for your honour, and not worthie any hate, in that I will preferre your name, aboue all Ladies in no­blenesse. And yet am I contented to abide your hard doome, and according to your pleasure, wast my daies in distresse, till either you will mooue you to recant, or my spotlesse loyaltie to relieue my mishap, which the longer you deserre, the more is my dolor, and you remaining obstinate, my paines are helpelesse: but that your gentlenes giueth me hope your displeasure shall end with my eternall delight.

Thus hauing finished his complaintes, he drew neare to the Castle, where by good hap he heard the sound of Musicke, which gaue him occasion to enter further. And comming to a great Hall, he espyed in one of the corners, one sitting all in blacke, with a fair long Beard, and a very graue countenance, shewing by his sad complexion, that he had more minde to moane, then to any myrth. Palmerin would not as yet enter any further, least he should break off his quiet exercise, which was, in singing ma­ny sadde Dittyes to his Lute, that himselfe had framed, in the prayse of his Ladie. Palmerin hauing heard what singular re­ports [Page] he gaue his Ladie, as that none might compare with her for beautie and brauerie: was very much offended, in that hee esteemed all Ladyes, as counterfeite to his fayre Polynarda, wherefore hee brake off the Knightes Sonnet, with this kinde of Salutation. Me thinkes Syr, you either want manners, or modestie, to glorie in your Lady, as thought there were none her like: Syr, your late comparison hath vrged me to great choller, for that my Ladie is aboue all in beautie▪ and for honour of her Name beside, beyond all in Noblenes of Nature, and therefore worthie all praise, because she is superiour to any.

The auncient Knight, seeing one entred vpon him so sudden­ly, and to correct his pleasures, with such sharpe words: aduan­ced himselfe towards him with this answer. Syr Knight, your bolde entraunce into this place, with the great offence you haue offered my person, may happe to be set at so deare a price, as shal cost the Blood you would be loath to spare. Is there anie to bee equall with my Lady, who is not méete to beare the comparison of any? whose very remembrance, maketh me liue in vnspeak­able tormentes? If thou darest stay till I am Armed, I will make thée eyther denye thy bragges, or buye my Ladyes honour with the losse of thy life and breath. And I will so reward this thy presumption, as shall teach thée thy dutie, and winne me my hearts desire. Syr (said Palmerin) cease these words, and exe­cute your wrath: if I haue spoken any thing to your displeasure, reuenge your selfe, and there an ende.

The auncient Knight withdrewe himselfe into a Chamber▪ where as his Esquire presently Armed him, & Palmerin went foorth, where he mounted on Horsebacke, and attended his com­ming. At length came foorth the Knight attired in blacke Ar­mour, bearing in his Shield, the portraite of griefly Death, ly­ing on a Toomb, couered all with blacke. Vsing no more words, they fell straite to fight, eache of them behauing themselus very valiantly: but the Knight of Death was at length throwne to the earth. Then dealing a while togither with their Swoords, Palmerins lucke was so fortunate, that he ouercame his enemy, then comming to him, and taking off his Helmet, he entred into these spéeches. Loe Sir Knight, contrary to your expectation, [Page] you are become my Prisoner: Now must you gainsay, what be­fore you haue boldly said, in extolling your Lady, aboue her whō I honour, or prepare your selfe to the extreame rigour of death.

To whom the Knight of Death replyed: Syr, well may you estéeme your valoure, and make account of your victorie, in that you haue foyled him, who had good hope neuer to be dismayed by any. But concerning the harde choyce you put me to, eyther to denye my Ladie, or to leaue my life: Suffice your selfe in this, that no rigor can constraine me, no, not the death it selfe, may, or shall compell me: for I rather choose to abide your cru [...]lty, then I will offer my Ladie so great discourtesie: this is my answer, take it as you please. Palmerin comparing the loyaltie of the Knight, with the constancie of his owne Loue, and his affection to be as surely planted, as was the earnest desire in himselfe, sa­tisfying himselfe with the Conquest, called Syluian, and depar­ted. The Knight of Death returning into his Castle, where he was carefully tended, and looked vnto by his Esq [...]yre, greatly contemning his fortune, in that he was so suddenly foyled.

CHAP. XIX.
¶Here shall you vnderstand, who was the Knight of Death, that the renowned Palmerin of England had conquered: and what was the cause he remained in his solitary Castle.

IT is registred in ancient Hys [...]ories, that in Sardignia, sometime Raigned a King na­med Euandrin, who espowsed Quéene E­meralda, Daughter to the Duke Armian of Normandie, and Sister vnto the Noble Duke Drapos. This King had one onely Sonne, who was named Floraman, of no lesse expertnes of capacity, then Knightly behauiour in courage, which made him liked of all that saw him, & loued of all y knew him. It so chaunced, that this Floraman growing to ripenesse [Page] of yeares, became enamoured of Altea, Daughter to the Duke Charles of Cicilia, who was subiect to the King Euandrin, so that betwéene these twaine, was ioyned such a league of perfect good liking, and such a mutuall consent of faithfull loue, that they supposed neither any accident could hinder their determination, nor any extreamitie [...]euer their plighted promise. But as For­tune is enemie to the hauty courage, and prepareth her malice against the well meaning minde: so this Loue could not please the King his Father, but by all meanes he could, thought still to preuent it. When the King perceiued he could hardly reclaime his Sonne, but that his affection still increased to faire A [...]tea, he sent her home to the Duke her Father, meaning to matche his Sonne to Adriana, the Quéene of Cicilia, whom Floraman de­nied to loue, or in this to grant to his Fathers minde, but rather endeuoured to follow his Lady, whose absence procured the lan­guishing of his life. The King well noting the intent of Flora­man, that he could not fancy his Fathers choise, by secret treason in the Duke of Ciciliaes Court, he found the meanes to poyson the fair Altea, to the no smal griefe of her noble Father & friends, as also the Gentlemen that were in his Courte, of whome her beauty was honored, and the ciuility of her life greatly commen­ded. The Duke misdoubting that the vntimely death of his daughter was procured by some vnnaturall meane, because she was so soone sicke, and so suddenly gone, sent for Allaricqua her bedfellow, and by executing sundry torments on her, she confes­sed, that being hyred by the king of Serdignia, she ministred the potion, that cut off her flowring yeares. When the duke hearde the discourse of his Lord and Soueraigns vnkinde dealing, hee caused the Anatomie of his Daughter to be artificially figured, which he placed vpon a Toomb, representing her Funerals, and thervpon in golden verses, writ the Epitaph of her rare and ver­tuous life, and by her was the image of Death very liuely drawn in perfect proportion. This rare piece of workmanship, he laid in a goodly fair Chariot, and leuying a great army, went against the King of Serdignia: Of whose comming, when Floraman heard, he could not finde in his heart to enter Battel against his Ladies father, but with a company of wel appointed knights, he [Page] brake thorow the rankes, and entred the Campe, from whence he tooke the Chariot, with the Picture of Altea. So ryding pre­sently to a Porte of the Sea, he tooke shipping, and coasted into the Turks Dominion, and building there his solitary Castle he liued there, bemoaning the vnkinde acte of his Father, and the vnfortunate death of his faire Altea. To whose Picture, hee would often report the afflictions of his minde: and with sun­dry Lamentable Sonnets, discouer her praise, and his owne paine, which to his Lute hee often recorded, as the onely meane to perswade him from any desperate intent.

In this place remained Floraman, till such time as the Prince Palmerin visited him as you haue hearde: and although it was the good Fortune of Palmerin to conquere him, who was both wasted with mourning, and growne into great debilitie, by his excéeding sorrow) yet was Floraman estéemed a Knight of sin­gular Prowesse. And when Palmerin was departed, and hée entred into his Castle againe vnto his Ladyes Picture, he ap­pealed in this manner. Alas my Altea, impute not this Con­quest to any right in mine Enemie, but rather to the feeble and weake assaults of your seruant, which extreame sorrow for your mishap, hath caused, and griefe of mine owne misfortune, that so aduersly chanced. Wherefore, to make amends for this great mischaunce, and that you may knowe your Knight estéemeth none but you: I will in my aduentures, so blaze your memorie, that all Ladies shall report, you are the onely Altea: and cause them to know, she is as yet vnborne, that must be your equall. Long he stayed in that comfortlesse place: till at last, the King his Father vnderstanding where he was, sent for him, and be­cause hee would not shewe himselfe disobedient, hee departed thence, bearing with him his Ladyes Portraite, still vsing his blacke Armour, and the Shielde wherein Death was painted, as the onely Sepulchre of his great sorrowes: vsing no other name for himselfe, but the Knight of Death. And what rare Aduentures were by him atchieued, in the honour of his Ladie, and great reputation of himselfe, you shall be at large certified in the sequell of this Historie.

CHAP. XX.
¶Palmerin of England, after hee was departed from Flora­man, the Knight of Death, happened to come where he saw a combate fought betweene three Knights, and the Knight of the Bull, named Pompides, who at the com­mandemens of a Lady, kept the passage of a bridge, and how the Knight of Fortune bare away the Victorie.

WHen the renowned Knight of Fortune had conquered Floraman the Knight of Death, he with his brother Siluian, procéeded on his iourney, neuer shewing any signe of a liuely disposition, but heauy and pensiue all the way as he rode, which Siluian desi­rous (if he might) to remedy, vsed these words vnto him. Good sir, wast not the time in woe, that you should vse in pleasant recreation, séeke not the ruine of your selfe, for hee that regardeth so [...]lenderly your profered courtesie: rather extinguished her memory, as she hath lightly left you, or thinke on her, when you iudge she is mindfull of you. Vnto which words, the knight of Fortune thus shaped an answere.

Siluian my deare Brother, and friend, if thou cauldest dis­cerne the drops of blood, that fall from my oppressed heart, as thou perceiuest the moyst teares that issue from my head, or if thou couldest iudge the world of woes I abide in my silent thoughts, as thou doest perceiue some motion, by outward ap­pearance, thou wouldest rather wish me in my graue, then to sée me remaine in this remedilesse griefe, which no way can be re­medied, but onely by the last extremity, which is death. And albeit, as thou saist, she estéemeth not my Passions, but rather is merry, when I mourne, and laugheth, when I languish: yet shall it neuer be sayde, but Palmerin liued without fraude, and [Page] therefore dyed in faith, preferring an honourable death, before a haplesse life. I would I had bene blinde, when first I saw her beauty, or that I had stayed with our Father, then to enioy such an vngentle friend, where wee might haue liued in quiet estate, now not enioying one houre of rest: for albeit I liue in spot­lesse loyaltie, yet am I rewarded with most vngentle loyaltie. And what of that? let it suffice, she is vnkinde, and thou vnhap­pie: she bent to crueltie, yet will thou liue and die in constancie: desiring no longer life, then I may be frée from any spotte in my promised Loue. And heereupon Syluian, assure thy selfe, her Beauty shall hazard my honour on a thousand Launces, but she shall confesse her selfe, Palmerin is aboue all in loyaltie. Thus passing the time in talke one to an other, the Knight of Fortune in great paine, and Syluian still continuing his perswasion, they arriued at a Bridge, where they saw thrée knights before them, who would haue passed ouer, but were resisted by a Knight in fair white Armor, who kept the Passage, bearing in his Shield for his Deuise, a Bulles head, and was called the Knight of the Bull. One of the thrée Knights, very couragiously, gaue Com­bat to the Knight of the Bull, but wan quickly set beside his sad­dle. In fine, the Knight of the Bull preuailed against them all thrée, to their griefe, and his glorie.

The Knight of Fortune knowing these thrée knights that had bene foyled, to be of the Emperours Court, as Luyman of Burgundie, Germaine of Orleaunce, and Tenebrant: he was not a little sorrie for their mishappe, and presently menaced his courage against the knight of the Bull, who met so stoutly togi­ther, that they were both dismounted. Then charging one ano­ther with their swords, betwéene them began a doubtfull skyr­mish: but at last, the knight of Fortunes happe was so good, that he strooke him downe: and setting his foote vppon him, charged him to tell what hee was, and wherefore he kept that Passage. The knight of the Bull, séeing himselfe brought vnder, and hea­ring his demand, which he was very loath to graunt: at last, dis­couered himselfe as thus. Syr knight, it hath bene alwaies my desire, to kéepe my selfe vnknowne to any, not that I hyde my name for feare, but till my Noble exploytes might deserue to [Page] make me knowne. But since it is my Fortune, by you to re­ceiue my first conquest, and must declare, what you stand desi­rous to know: vnderstand that I am sonne to Don Edord the famous Prince of England, and Argonica, the Lady of the En­chanted Isle, hauing to name Pompides. As concerning why I kéepe this passage, thus it is. A certaine Lady who cured my wounds I receiued at my last encounter against two knights whom I slew: commanded me to kéepe the passage, vntill I conquered a knight which she greatly desireth, and can no other way come to the knowledge of him. And here haue I remained for the space of twentie dayes: yet neither happening on that knight, nor conquered before his present.

The knight of Fortune hearing his words suffered him to arise, and gaue him this answer. Me thinkes sir it might be more to your [...]ame, as also the happinesse of your good fortune: not to linke your life to this simple enterprise, but to aduance your selfe, to trie the hazards of all places, for in this place you sit idle, while abroad you might be better imployed: which if you think amisse of. I leaue you to your Ladies command, and so Siluian and he departed. The other vanquished knights, who greatly desired to haue knowledge of the knight of Fortune, were very sorry that they suffered him to depart, without vsing any conference with him. Neuerthelesse, they supposed that it was the renowned Palmerin: but that the deuice of his Shéeld deceiued them, which he bare for that purpose because he would not be known to any, otherwise then by the name of the knight of Fortune. Well, after him they rid, & Pompides went to his Ladies Fortresse, where he might haue his wounds cured, which made him very faint, he had lost so much blood. Now wil we returne to the knight of the Sauage man, who hauing deli­uered Palmerin the shéeld, and left Trofol [...]ant with the other conquered knights: trauail [...]d, both with reputation of knight, hood, and good Fortune in all attempts, till he arriued at the Tristfull Valley, where what befell vnto him, you shall presently vnderstand.

CHAP. XXI.
How when the knight of the Sauage man had left the Prince Palmerin, and the conquered knights in the Forrest of the Cleere fountaine, he chanced to come into the Tristfull Valley, where he tried his strength against Blandidon knight of the Swan, and sonne of the sorrowfull Lady Pandritia, where he conquered him.

FOr because we will not be vnmindfull of the knight of the Sauage man, who beha­ued himselfe so brauely at Constantinople, as also in the Forrest of the Cleere Foun­taine, you shall vnderstand, that endeuou­ring himselfe in trauaile, Fortune directed his course to the Tristfull Valley, which might rightly be called so, for that no Knight could enter there, witheut great affliction and heauinesse of minde, which made the sorrowful Pandritia to abide there in her House of sadnesse As he rode on in this Valley, he espyed a great trée, whereon there hanged a great many a Shéeldes, and néere to the Trée, was a Caue or Den, at the etrance whereof lay Trunchions of speares, broken swords, and other like weapons, which de­clared there had béene many combats fought in that place. Out of this Caue, there came a knight in black armor, bearing in his shield vpon a ground of sand, a faire white Swan, who hauing espied the knight of the Sauage man presently sounded a horne, vnto a house which was néere adioyning. At the sound of this horn, the windows of the house were presently opened, & there was laid a faire cloath of blacke Veluet, and Cushions of the same, when there came a faire Lady, with her Damosels, and leaned thereon to sée the combate, which the knight of the Swan determined to haue with the knight he sawe comming. This [Page] sight mooued the Knight of the Sauage man to stand in a great maze, as well to behold the faire Ladies, as also such a seemely Knight, in a place of so small frequentation. Out of which study to reuiue him, the Knight of the Swan sent his Page, who summoned him in this sort. My Lord and Master (sir Knight) whom you here behold, and can no way escape, hath kept this passage for this sixe Moneths, to the aduancement of his ho­nour, and disgrace of no smal company of good & hardy knights, as their Shields my suffice for witnesse, that hang on yonder Tree, which they haue left behind them, being vnable to with­stand him, who as yet hath been vanquished of none. He there­fore hath sent me, and I in his name sollicite you, that if co­wardly feare do enforce you to faint, and not daring to venture, where so many hath beene vanquished, you are permitted the choise of two extreames, wherof you must chuse one, or receiue such authority, as he wil charge you withal. The first, you must passe no further, but returne from whence you came, being boūd by your Knightly oath, to make knowne to euery one, your shamefull repulse, not sparing to tell the truth, for fauer to your selfe, but manifest your cowardise, to the commendation of my Lord. The second, if you be so desirous, that you would needes passe, without endamaging your selfe with the foresaid perill, you must fulfil that which you wil be loath, if you either estéeme Knighthood, or the happy state of your life. You must first giue your Shield to be placed by the other, and your name to be writ­ten vnder the same, to the intent all Knights that happen this way, may know him that came like a Knight, but departed hence like a fainting Crauen, so shall their extreame rigour in spéech, procure the meanes to your eternall shame. Beside, you must vow to this sorrowfull Lady, who with all her companie, spendeth the time in wailing, neuer to reioyce, in remembrance of her griefe, but to be part [...]er of her sadnesse, while your life endureth, If none of these twaine please you, come to my Lord, and he will ease you.

The Knight of the Sauage man, smiling at this discourse, which menared disloyaltie, as also threatned danger, sent the Knight his answere, in these words. Goe tell thy Lord, that [Page] he hath met with such a one, as neither respecteth his proffers, nor regardeth his puissaunce, not minding to goe forward, nor yet to returne, till he hath caused him to know, that he hath as much authoritie to constraine, as himselfe hath to command. Vpon this answere they met together valiantly, each charging the other with such Knightly blowes, as the Ladies gaue great commēdation to the fight, hardly iudging who was the likest of victorie. They breathed, and fell to it againe, the knight of the Swan, accounting himselfe well [...]ated, and the knight of the Sauage man, thought him indifferently matched. At length, the victorie chaunced to the Knight of the Sauage man, who re­ioyced, that he had conquered so good a knight, and he vnclasping the Knight of the Swans Beuere (who was quite ouercome with a grieuous trance) wrought the meanes to get life in him againe, when as he charged him to tell, what he was, as also, wherefore these Ladies liued there, and why he vndertooke to kéepe that passage, vnto which request the Knight thus answe­red. Sir knight, if in loosing my life, I might profit her whom I euer sought to please, and finish that which must be brought to ende, I would rather imbrace the death, t▪en satisfie your desire, that craueth the thing, I would neuer shew to any. But see­ing my griefe cannot be holpen that way, nor greatly eased this way, you hauing now authority to command, I wil accomplish your minde in euery point. I am called Blandidon, Sonne to this sorrowfull Lady Pandritia, who hath too long, yet longer must, abide in this her Castle, called the House of Sadnesse. Where, the more to my griefe, yet no way to be remedied, shee hath vowed to end her life with her misfortune, & to continue in mourning, so long as she liueth. Onely for the loue shée bare to a knight, whō in trauel I am sure you haue heard of, in that he is no lesse famous for his hautie déedes of Armes, then aboue al knights for his atchieued victories, he is called, as I haue heard of many, Don Edward of England. And because I cannot find the meane, to perswade my mother frō this sorrow full kinde of life, but that she will still remaine in her v [...]wed heauinesse, I haue determined to garde this passage, making all that I con­quere, partakers of her griefe, & forcing all that refraine, to the [Page] shame you haue heard, wherin I honor her, which is my desire, and trie many a good Knight, to the encreasing of my fame, though I neuer sustained the like mishap by any, nor hope to meete the man that shall doe it againe.

The Knight of the Sauage man, hearing the tale of Blan­didon, (who was estéemed for a Knight of no lesse valor then good Fortune,) desired him to leaue the solitarie place, and to beare him company to the Forrest of great Brittaine, decla­ring, that more renowne might there be gotten in a day, then during his life time, in that heauie passage. Which Blandi­don would haue graunted to right willingly, if the pensiue estate of his sad mother, had not perswaded him to the con­trary, whom hee was loath to leaue, yet desirous to kéepe the Knight of the Sauage man company, whō he was very earnest to haue knowledge of. At length, a little before he departed, the Knight of the Sauage man, thus perswaded Blandidon. Sir Knight, I account my selfe happie to meete with so good a Knight, & would condemne my selfe altogether of ingratitude, if I should not requite your gentlenesse, so farre as without mine owne harme I may, whose company I would gladlie haue, yet vnwilling your Ladie mother should remaine desti­tute of a guide. To resolue you what, and who I am, you shall know, that I am called the Knight of the Sauage man, by which name, I am knowne to many good Knights, who haue both tried me, and found gentlenesse at my hands. No far­ther can I disclose my name, till I am better acquainted with my selfe, then as yet I am. And now I intend to hazard my selfe in the aduenture of great Brittaine, whereas many noble Knights doe enter, and not heard of afterward, whom I meane to beare company, or else to ende the great danger. Blandidon would gladly haue assaied this aduenture also, but the faint e­state of himselfe, with the great care he vsed to his mother Pan­dritia, would not suffer him to depart. Wherefore, vsing such friendly gréeting at their departure, as beséemed their profession and loyal intent of curtesie, the knight of the Sauage man tooke his way on his iourney, and Blandidon to the castle, to comfort his mother, as also to haue his wounds recured. Assuring you, [Page] that this strife betweene them, wrought such maruellous en­deuours on either part afterward, as hath seldome been heard of, which you shall reade in the sequell, wherein, the vertue of their noblenesse, with the vnanimitie of their conioyned faith­fulnesse, was not more desirous to the one, then delightfull to the other.

CHAP. XXII.
How Floraman the Knight of Death, and Prince of Serdignia arriued at Constantinople, at the Emperours Court, where he caused his Tent to be pitched, in the honour of his faire Altea. And how before the Emperor, hee made chalenge against all the Knights of his Court▪ in the defence of his Ladies beautie, where his Fortune was so good, that hee ouercame the Prince Gracian, his brother Guerin, and the other Knights that aduentured for their Ladies sakes.

GReat was the sorrow that the Knight of Death sustained, for the foile which Palme­rin the noble knight of Fortune had giuen him, whereof to be reuenged (after hee had visited the king his father, who had sent for him) he continued in trauell so long, that at last he arriued at Constantinople. Where before the Emperors Pallace, he erected two faire Tents, very artificially made in workmanship, al of black Silke and Gold, whereon was giuen to view in braue Pictures, the rare beauty of his Lady Altea, as also the whole course of his mournefull life▪ a spectacle of great delight to all that tooke occasion to see it. In the one of these Tents was prepared furniture for his lodg­ing, and in the other stoode his lustie Coursers, with the Speares and Weapons to maintaine his Tournement, and [Page] on the top, betwéene both the Tentes, was placed the perfect Image of his faire Altea, which he tooke from the Duke her fa­ther, while the two Armies were waging battaile. The Knight of Death hauing euery thing in readinesse, with his two Esquires attending on him, he entred the Emperors Pal­lace, attired in his accustomed Armour, which made the Empe­rour somewhat abashed, yet very well pleased with the ciuill de­meanor he perceiued in him. Then kneeling downe to kisse his Maiesties hand, he was not suffered as he would, but was kept backe, which he abiding very patiently, began to fire his eyes vppon the Empresse, and her Courtly Ladyes, to see if he could finde the Ladie, that might for beauty, compare with his Altea, and after a good whiles pause, in this order he began to render his spéeches. Most puissant Emperour, let not my boldnesse be admitted to any ill intent, or my rude behauiour, to merite your gracious disliking, to whome I not onely vowe, my heart and hand, but my vnfained seruice, to the houre of my death.

I am that vnhappy Knight, whose misfortunes can not bee recounted, for that all my life hitherto, hath bin nothing but mi­serie, and am threatned to spende all my life in infinite calami­ties, which hath drawne my minde into such a debilitie, that I can neither honour your Grace as I should, nor behaue my selfe as gladly I would.

For first, when I had appointed my minde to a quiet estate, which I thought no mishappe could alter, or any extreamitie chaunge, but resolued my selfe on an infallible ioye, Aye me, one fling of Fortune ouerturned all, and the Heauen of my happines became a hateful Hell. When my youthfull yéeres allured me to Loue, and fancie made choyce to mine owne good lyking, I e­steemed my self the happiest of any man aliue, though my chance were more hatefull, then my griefe can vnfolde.

For spight, not onely berefte of my Ladie, but allotted my poore selfe to exreame ill lucke, when I forsooke all Courtly com­panie, onely determining to waste my tune in a solitary kinde of life, which I spent in remembrance of her, who most regarded me, and still lauding her Beautie (which I estéemed aboue all) there I remayned (mee thought) a merrie, though indéede a [Page] mournfull time. Yet was not Fortune satisfied, but rubbeth a fresh gréefe vpon the gréene wound, in sending a knight to breake off my silent deuotions, who repining that I should ex­toll my Lady, aboue his Saint that was vnknowne to me, en­tred the fight, which returned to my foile, he bare away the vic­torie, and I was vanquished. Thus haue I bene euer indama­ged, euery way distressed (and may say, that no knight can say) I am the onely man for mishap. And because I will not be re­puted so ingratefull to my Lady, that one repulse shall make me forsake her swéete shrine, I haue vowed in all Princes courts, to extoll her beautie, to whom (referring comparisons) I can estéeme none her equall. And these Knights who honour their Ladies, and dare contend with my Altea, either for beautie, or bountie, I am ready to giue Combate to all, for that I will al­low the superioritie to none. As concerning the order appoin­ted in this fight, which I would all to obey, and none to break: thus vnder your gratious leaue, it is requested. That those knights, who esteeme their quarrell so good, as to enter the field for the beautie of their Ladyes, shall bring with them her Por­trait, for whose sake they aduenture, which wil be to their own honour, and fame of their Ladies. Beside, if my hap be so good as to gaine the victorie, they must enter my tent, to render their Armour, and their names to be registred in my booke, which I haue tearmed the Sepulchre of Louers. But if my enemy pre­uaile, contrary to my expectation, he shall be Lord of the riches which remaineth in my tent, beside, my selfe as his vassaile, to stand at his pleasure. And this fauour I must request of your Grace, that none shall not enter Combat, with the sword, with out he be able, to mate me in the Iust. This is the cause of my coming, procured through the knight yt gaue me the ouerthrow, who protested himselfe to be of your Court, for which cause, I desire that I may here begin my knightly enterprise, I will re­turne to my tent, to expect the comming, of him that dare first presume. Thus with taking leaue, he departed to his tent, the Emperour remaining desirous to know of whence he was: which was declared to him by some of his Court, that he was [Page] Floraman, Sonne to ancient King of Sardignia, at which re­port, the Emperour was very sorry, that he had not entertained him, according to his vallor and Nobilitie of birth. On the next day, the knights prepared themselues before the Tent of the Knight of Death, and the Emperour, with the Ladies of the Court, standing ready to behold the Combate, which was first enterprised the ye prince Gracian, for the loue of Claritia, daugh­ter to the king Polendos, being gallantly mounted, all in gylt Armour, and in his shéeld, bearing for his deuise, a Damosell her face couered with a gréene shadow, like vnto a Net. The gentle Prince looking toward his Lady Claritia, who stood in the window, by the princesse Gridonia, vnto himself vsed these spéeches. Faire Mistres, I desire you to continue your woonted affection toward me, and not to let fal your fauour, for that your loue doth encourage me to the fight, in assurance whereof, I shal cause mine enemy to know, that his Altea, is farre incom­parable, to my faire Claritia. With these wards, he ran against the knight of death, encoūtring one another with such knight­ly behauiour, that both the Emperour, and all the Ladies, tooke great pleasure to behold them. At their second pause, the knight of Death, turned him to the picture of Altea, with these words. Can my courage [...]aint, remembring you my good Lady? or can any dismay me, hauing embraced your fauour? no, the honour of your name, hath called me to the field, and your beautie is so perfect, that none can cause me flye. Then began they a fresh assault, as doubtfull to the one, as to the other: but at length the knight of Death had vnhorsed the Prince Gracian, to the great sorrow of his Loue, and no lesse to himsefe. Then was he ledde into the Tent, wher he resigned his armor, and his name was written downe, in the Sepulchre of Louers. Then appro­ched Guerin, brother to the Prince Gracian, who for his Lady Clariana, aduentured to the Combat, whō the knight of death, brought likewise to the Sepul [...]hre of Louers. After these came Flauian, Rotandor, and Emerauld the Faire, whose strengthes were not to compare with the knight of Death, and therefore were all vnarmed, and brought to the Sepulchre of Louers.

[Page] The Emperour commanded the Tournament should end for that day, and sent for the Knight of Death, to a sumptuous banquet, where the Ladies and gentlewomen, made such esti­mation of him as his singular Prowesse, and hauty courage de­serued. Which made him in sighes, to thinke vpon his Altea, whose commendation was euer best welcome to him, yet h [...]eacute;e dissembled his gréefe, with a merry countenance, because eue­ry one should not be priuy to his extreame Passions. So after the banquet was ended, and their Dancing finished, taking leaue of the Emperour, as also the whole company, he departed to his Tent, and the Ladies to their Chambers.

CHAP. XXIII.
How the Knight of Death at his second Io [...]st. conquered the Prince Polinarda, who aduentured himselfe in the behalfe of the faire Polynarda, yet was he vanquished, with diuers other knights. And how Berolde Prince of Spaine, and knight of the Sphere, suddainly arriued there, and main­tained against the knight of Death, the beautie of his La­die Onistalda.

THe knight of Death on the next morning, came foorch before his Tent, attyped in blacke Armour, whereon was painted in diuers places, the resemblance of the faire face of Altea, and in his Shéelde was figured a knight, clasping his armes toge­ther in great heauinesse, and by him stood y image of vgly death, and standing stedfast­ [...]ke looking and beholding the Picture of Altea, vnto himselfe the beganne in this manner. I reioyce (my déere Altea) that Fortune hath not altogether forgotten mee, but al­loweth [Page] my in this place, to reuenge the foyle I sustained at my sorrowfull Mansion, in that by my good endeuour all the La­dies of this Court, shall be forced themselues to confesse that I maintaine the quarrell of perfect beautie, and therefore worthy to beare the prize away.

To breake off these imaginations, Polinard the brother of the Prince Vernar, presented himselfe before the tent (when the Emperor and the Ladies were set in their appointed place) his Armour being blew, and his Shéelde, the chéerefull counte­naunce, of a very beautifull Damosell, which he bare in the honor of the Princesse Polinarda, vnto whom he vowed great affection, but bashfulnesse did hinder himm from making it knowne. The regardents of the Joust, willed him to beli­uer his Ladies fauour, because it was the order of the fight, that he should doe so: to whom he answered. The fauour of my Lady, which as yet I haue found very slender, shall be brought on this knight, whom I haue hope to conquer, and I will de­liuer him that small fauour I haue, to her Fame, and his eter­nall dishonour. The knight of Death replying: Many a good Knight had thought so, and yet hath béene deceiued, and al­though you bragge you so, you may hap to haue as hard a bar­gaine.

So without mor words, they encountred verie fiercely, but Polynard was ouerthrown, with his arme gréeuously broken, with incensed him with such anger, that he would haue bin at his enemie againe, but the knight of Death, gaue him this per­swasion. Syr, you haue done enough for this time, when your arme is in estate, you shall haue a fresh combate. These spée­ches so vexed Polynard, that he became so troublesome to them both in talke and behauiour, that he would neither yéelde his Armour, nor obey the orders that were appointed in the field, which caused the Emperor to giue him a great check, wherupon he departed, giuing great offence to the knight of Death, in de­nying that which was his right and tytle to haue.

Then dealt he with fiue knights more, and vanquished them all, sending them into his Tent, to the Sepulchre of Louers, by which time it drew toward Dinner, and the Emperour with [Page] the Ladies withdrew themselues, and euery one departed, till they had refreshed them, as nature required. When dinner was endes, the Emperour went to the stent to sée the knight of Death, to whom he gaue no small commendations for the worthy behauior he had séene in him. So continuing that after noone in their sport, to the foyle of many a good knight, among whom was Trusiande, and Bellizart, that bare company with other knights to the Sepulchre of Louers.

And when they were ready to leaue of their pastime, there suddainly came ryding a very séemely knight, whose Armour was beset with gréeue Spheres, bearing in his Shéelde like­wise a Sphere of the same collour, he perceiuing the Emperor with the company of so many braue Ladies, came prancing, and shewing many trickes with his horse, before the knight of Death. At last he drew forth a little table, with a circle of gold round about it, wherein was liue Pictured the faire face of O­nistalda, Daughter to the Duke of Drapos of Normandie, & looking stedfastly vpon it, began thus to vse his tal [...]ke. Swéet Mistresse, I haue enterprised this iourney, vnder the soueraign title of your [...], singuler beautie, not doubting but to vanquish him, who as yet hath borne the prize from al. Therefore, let not the fauour, which was my accustomed reward, he denyed me at this time, for that your beautie maketh me enter the field, which I will maintaine to my desire, or sustaine thd death. So deliuering the table to the Regardants, who were appointed to receiue it, they set the Spurres to the horses, and met with such puissance together, that they were both throwne to the earth, when drawing their Swords, they charged one another so brauely, that this combate bare the commendation, aboue all that had béene séene at that Tournament.

Great desire had the Emperour, to know the knight of the Speere, but their fierce encountring, would not suffer any an­swer to be made. Retiring a little to take breath, the knight of Death beheld his Armour, all flasht and broken, on the faire face of Altea, which caused him to fall into these complaints.

Ah my swéete Altea, how can I desire your fauour, or make account to enioy your loue, suffering your blamelesse face to [Page] be thus offended? in whose remembraunce I haue, and do en­ioy the honour of all good Fortune.

On the other side, the Knight of the Shpere complayned to his Lady, saying: How happy might I estéeme my self, my (good Lady) if for the price of my wounds, I might enforce my ene­mie to say, you are the onely Goddesse of beauty, which either I will do, or die, ere I depart out of the field. But if you with draw your fauour, then shall mine enemie be conqueror, and I constrained to liue in eternall detriment of my life. By this time it waxed very darke, & because they would not giue ouer, the Emperour caused Torches to be lighted, which gaue great cause of courage to them both, to sée the good will of the Empe­rour, and would not depart the field till one were conquerour. At last ioyning themselues together, through extreame faint­nesse and wearinesse, they fel both to the ground, but the knight of the Sphere was vnderneath, the Ragardaunts giuing the victorie to the knight of Death. Then leading the knight into the Tent, where he rendred his Armour, and his name to the Sepulchre of Louers, they knew him to be Berolde the prince of Spaine, which when the Emperour heard, he sent for him in­to his Pallace, where he was carefully tended, vntill his health was perfectly restored, yet he was maruellously offended with himselfe, that his Lady past without the honour of the day.

The knight of Death could beare no Armour a great while after, for that he had found the puissance of the Prince Berol­de, of no lesse force, then worthy commendations. But when he had gained hs good estate of helth, he stil maintained his qua­rell, against many strangue knights, of whom by his good For­tune, he had alwaies the victorie, replenishing his Sepulchre of Louers, to his owne hearts content. And the Emperor Palme­rin gaue him such honour, in the time he endured his aduen­tures, that he was double encoured, to maintaine the beauty of his Lady Altea.

CHAP. XXIIII.
How the Knight of Fortune, hauing left Pompides, chanced to meete with the Green Knight, that accompanied the Knight of the Sauage man, in the Turnament at Constan­tinople, who was the sonne of Sir Pridos, named Don Ro­sian, De la Bronde, in whose company the Knight of the Sauage man, was nourished in the Court of England, who trying their strengths together, Don Rosiart was van­quished.

EEduring the Tournament of the Knight of Death, many Noble Princes and vali­ant Knights, left off the the strayed Prin­ces, and came to Constantinople, to defend the beautie of their Ladies. Which caused the Knight of Death, hauing such pros­perous Fortune, to leaue his blacke Armour, the Image of his heauinesse, and fought in a gorgious new Armour, mingled with colours of red and white, all beset with Pellicans of gold, euery one holding in their billes, the tormented heart of a Louer. His Shielde also was answerable thereto, bearing in the middest a golden Pellican, vpon a ground of Sinople, where, to his braue victories, wee will leaue Knight of Death, to declare what happened the Knight of Fortune, when hee had left Pompides.

After that to his owne renown, and honour of many Prin­ces Courtes, hee had succoured the distresse of sundry defamed Ladies, and borne away the prize from many famous Knights, suddenly comming foorth of a Forrest in Greece, musing vpon the great vngentlenesse of his Lady Polinarda, hee mette a Knight, mounted on a gay Courser, and attired in gréene Ar­mour, [Page] which was all hackt and hewen, and his Shield sore pol­luted, whom he remembred to be the knight that came with the knight of th Sauadge man to Constantinop. which caused him in gentle māner to offer him Salutations, whervpon the gréen Knight put foorth this demaund. Sir, I h [...]pe by your means to he resolued in the occasion which maketh mee trauell in all pla­ces, and staye in no place. The Knight of Fortune stayed him with these words. The heauy thoughts which doo often ouer­charge me, will hardly suffer me to vse any talke with you. Why Syr (quoth the gréene Knight my request is so reasonable, as it néed not offend you to make me answer. I would gladly know, if in your trauell, you chaunced to méete with a Knight, in such Armor as y [...] sée me weare, carrying for his Deuise in his shield, as Sauagde man, leading two Lyons, in a field of siluer. I would my selfe (answered the Knight of Fortune) gladly knowe where he is, for that my trauell, is partly to séeke him, but I feare me, we shall both misse of that wee loke for.

Syr (quoth the gréene Knight) for what cause do you labour your selfe in his search? If he hath done any thing that doth dis­please you, behold him here, that will answere in his cause.

The Knight of Fortune hearing these words, presently retur­ned him this answere. If I should report (Syr) that eyther hee, or any other Knight hath iniuryes m [...], I should misreports of them, and greatly reproach my selfe. For the griefe which I su­staine, is caused through a Damosell, to whom I neuer gaue de­se [...]t, or know the cause, why she should offer mee such great vn­gentlenesse: and neyther is the Knight you séeke, [...] to my griefes, and he is yet vnborne, that shall compell me to shewe it: wherefore, you procéede in your enterprise, and let me con­tinue in bemoning my misfortune. Syr (said the gréen knight) by how much you are desirous I should depart, by so much the more I am determined to tarry, & will c [...]mpell you to shew why you séeke the knight of the Sauadge man, or force you to abyde the perill, which by denyall you may finde. Wherevpon, he pre­sently ran against the Knight of Fortune, [...] Siluian could pos­sible deliuer him his Spear [...], which made him glad to trust to his Swoorde, till at lastly (after a [...] whiles Fight) the gréene [Page] Knight came with such force, that his Horse ranne his nose a­gainst the ground, and ouerthrew his Master, which the knight of Fortune séeing, alighted, and then dealte with him at his pleasure, vntill such time as the Gréen [...]knight waxed very féeble, and the Knight of Fortune perceyuing it, did vse very much merrie to him, but the Gréene knight hauing not the good minde to respect it, came against him couragiously, with these wordes.

What Syr Knight, beginne you to fainte? nay, defend your selfe hardly, for since you would not estéem my gentlenes, when it was proffered, you shall féele the recompence that belongeth to selfe [...]will. Then ioyned they agaiue, till at last the knight of Fortune reached him such a sound stroake, that he brought him on both his knées, at which aduantage, he offered the motion to haue slaine him: but the gréeue knight considering his estate, be­ganne in this manner to vse his intreatie. Syr Knight, the puissance I did estéeme in my selfe, in thinking at no time to finde my péere, made mee vse this presumption to you, which I buye now with too deare a price. My life standeth at your cour­tesie, to whome I know not well how to frame intreatie, for that my rash attempt, doth rather craue a iust reward, then a­ny fauour to be showne. Yet thus much, on your milde nature I perswade my selfe, that you rather estéeme the conquest, then my death, and will suffise your selfe with the one, though I am vnworthie to deserue the other.

Syr (quoth the Knight of Fortune,) I account of my victo­rie▪ much more then thy Death, and because thou shalt knowe, that Patience doth alway conquere my Anger, I giue thée thy life vppon this condition, that thou make knowne to mée the Knight of the Sauadge man: as also of whence, and what thou art, and why thou doest so labour to séeke him? Trust me Syr (answered the Gréene knight) as concerning the knight of the Sauadge-man, his name, nor of whence he commeth, is known vnto me: Neuerthelesse, if I did knowe it, and hee had desired me to kéepe it secrete, you should haue my life, before I would discouer him. As for my selfe, I am called Don Rosian, de la Bronde, sonne to sir Pridos, the Duke of Galles and Cornwall, [Page] and Couzin to Fredericke, the famous King of England. This is all that I can or will declare, which if it will not suffise you, on Gods name take that I would hardly spare.

The Knight of Fortune, satisfied with this answer, moun­ted on Horseback, giuing him this farewell. It had béene much better sir knight, to haue vsed such faire language as I gaue you then to cause both of vs to hazard our liues, vpon a quarrel that hath no foundation, which to preuent against another time, let this I wish you serue for a warning. And so Siluian and he de­parted to a Castle, where, by a Lady named Rianda, he was cu­red of such wounds as he had receiued: leauing Don Rosiran to ride whither it pleased him.

But concerning why hee departed from the Knight of the Sauage ma [...], the History declareth, that it chanced in this or­der. After they were come two dayes iourney from Constanti­nople, it fortuned they met a young Gentleman, ryding a great pace, and vsing a heauy clamor all the way as he rode, to whom they aduanced themselues, desirous to knowe the cause of his complaints. To whome the Gentleman declared, that thrée knights had taken a Lady from him, desiring greatly to abuse her honour: wherefore he requested them, as they tendered the estate of Ladies, so they would helpe to defend her from iniury.

This heauy tale, vrged them to ride with the Gentleman, till by Fortune they met with the Damosel, in the Forrest of the Cleare Fountaine, that brought the Shield from the Sage Aliart, to deliuer to the yong Prince Palmerin, whō the knight of the Sauage man was desirous to know. When Don Rosi­an saw, how he had taken the Shield from her, & sent her with the answere you haue heard before, hée desired that hée might accompany the Gentleman, to reléeue the distressed estate of the Lady, promising to returne to what place hée would ap­point.

After leaue obtained, he departed with the Gentleman, and had such good Fortune, that he slew two of the Knights in com­bat, and compelled the third to flight, himselfe being before hurt, and his Armour bruised, as you haue heard, when he met with the Knight of Fortune.

[Page] But because you shall be certified why he was called De la Bronde, you shall heare what in the English Ch [...]onicles is af­firmed for this matter. King Marke had by his Quéene Yseul, a daughter named Yseul, who was thought by some, to be the daughter of Tristam: she being ioyned in marriage with the Duke of Galles ha [...] a sonne by him, named Blasanon de la Bronde, Duke of Galles and Cornewall, who espowsed Mar­lott [...], daughter to the king Charlian of Ireland, who hauing a sonne by her, at her request, named him Marlo [...], De la Bronde. And in this order it did conti [...]e, to the Duke of Galles: who because he would not haue his house grow into obliuion, na­med the sonne of sir Prid [...]s and Attaida, Don Rosiran, De la Bronde. Who after he ha [...] thus bene vanquished by the knight of Fortune, was conducted by his Esquire to a Monasterie, where he remained till his wounds were he [...]led.

CHAP. XXV.
How the knight of Fortune stayed so long in the Castle of Rianda, that he was aduertised by a Damosell named Lu­cenda, who was newly come from the Emperours Court, the knight of death, in defence of his faire Altea, had born away the prize from all Ladies. And how vpon this report he rode to Constantinople, accompanyed with Siluian, and there in the honor of Polinarda, he vanquished the knight of death, who resigned his Tent to the noble knight of Fortune.

COncerning the knight of Fortune, who re­mained at the cure of his woundes, in the Castle of Rianda, who shal vnderstand, that a Damosell, who was attendant in the Emperours Court, and Couzin to this Ladie Rianda, desired leaue to came and [Page] visite her Aunt, in the time that the Knight of Death, endured his Tournament for the faire Altea. This Damosell being na­med Lucenea, arriuing at her Aunts Castell, was presently knowne by the knight of Fortune, because he had béene daily in her companie in the Emperours Court, which vrged him thus to commune with her. Mistresse Lucenda, it is maruell to sée you so farre from the place, where I wish my selfe euer, both for the honour of the persons, as also their happinesse of pleasure.

Lucenda right glad to see the Prince Palmerin, gaue him her answere as thus. Trust mee sir, if you would follow my counsell, not that I speake by way of commaund, but rather on earnest desire to intreate you, I would wish you to hasten your selfe to them, and well to discharge you of the Emperours anger, as also to satisfie those, that receiued no small offence at your suddaine departure. The Emperour and his Knightes thinke more then I will speake, and the Ladies iudge worse of you then I can say, in that the one imputeth it to your small friendship, and the other suppose, you owe them small fauour. But if you are desirous to wipe out this blemish, and to make apparance of your perfect bountie, now is it time to winne you the Spurres, or to gaine you the report of a contin [...]all shame: and now shall they know, if your affection be such, as preferreth their Fame, before your owne ease. The Knight of Death, who came thither lately, and hath set vp his Tents, in the honour of his Ladie, hath eclipsed the beautie of our Court­lie Ladies, to the reproch of many Knights, and glory of his faire Altea. If now there remaine in you, either the Nobilitie of Knighthood, or vnspotted loue you haue aduouched to your Saint, let him kn [...]w there is one farre aboue Altea, that both shall and must beare away the title of beautie: so shall you ex­presse an inuincible minde, and al Ladies triumph in so gallant a Champion.

These newes set the knight of Fortune in a chafe, for that he knew he had conquered him once alreadie, which made him leaue Lucinda, and take himself to his Chamber, where a thou­sand heauie thoughts doe on sudden ouercharge him.

[Page] First, what might be thought of his long absence from the Court, then, how hee might incurre the displeasure of his faire Polinarda, whose commandement did binde him out of her sight, yet must come in her sight, if he went to auenge her quar­rell.

But when he considered euery thing as he ought, comparing likewise the bold atempt of the knight of Death, he determined to thrust himselfe in the face of Fortune, and either to finish his tormented life, or to make known the truth of his inuiolate loue. In the morning, Siluian armed him in a verie faire ar­mour, all beset with golden Lyons, and taking his leaue of Ricada and Lucinda, they rode both of them toward Constan­tinople, the Knight of Fortune all the way, being very pensiue and sad, whom Siluian would often cheere in this maner. Good sir, consider with your selfe, if you forsake your Lady in such great extremitie, how can you thinke your selfe worthy [...]at any time to haue her fauour? Imagine with your selfe, the honor you shall gaine in this fight, with the noble report, both of your friends and foes: thinke againe the shame that may attaint your Knighthood, if you leaue off this enterprise, which is the onely type of renowne. O withdraw these sad conceits, and thinke if you were now in the field, how Polinarda would triumph, to beare the name of all estimation, and the Knight of Death die with sorrow, to see his good Fortune dasht in the presence of such a royall assembly. Trifle not the time therfore, with any fond delay, because danger may arise by lingring, and dolor by ouermuch loytering. These words of Siluian, were greatly esteemed by the knight of Fortune, who made such haste, that at last he arriued at Constantinople, where passing by the Pallace, & the Chamber of his Lady Polinarda, he fel in­to a multitude of amorous complaints, but Siluian left him not with his wonted perswasion. At last he came before the tent of the Knight of Death, when he had euen then conquered a Gre­cian Knight, named Titubant, who aduentured for the beautie of Cardigna, Daughter to the Giant Fiottan, who was sent presently to the Sepulchre of Louers. While they were vnar­ming Titubant, the Knight of Fortune came prauncing into the [Page] Listes▪ vppon a very faire Courser that Rianda had giuen him, who being séene of the Emperour, and all the Ladyes, had the generall verdict, to be the séemelyest Knight that entered there since the Tournament began.

The Knight of Death was somewhat offended, to sée eue­ry one such make estimation of this Knight, against whom his malice so increased, that he auouched to worke him the greatest iniurie he could. It chaunced the knight of Fortune, to lift his eyes to the Windowes, where in the Empresse Chamber, hee perceyued his faire Polynarda, whose presence made him (as it were) cleane beside himselfe: but Syluian (being disguised that none should know him) rounded him in the eare, saying. Syr, you are now in place where you must vse your strength, and not your studie: be mindfull of your Ladie, but not to the detriment of your owne life. These wordes awaked him, when hee thus talked to to himselfe. My déere Mistresse, I would thinke my selfe most happie, if you would remember mee in courtesie, not that I feare mine enimie, but that it would giue me the greater courage to maintaine your Beautie.

These words thus ended, the Regardaunts demaunded of him the Picture of his Ladie, as it was the custome: to which he thus answered. I am loath to shew my Ladies fauour, for that it is as daintie in sight, as it is dangerous for me to showe. Neuerthelesse, if I be vanguished, I will not bee hée that shall breake your Order, but will shewe you that I estéeme aboue all Riches. This answere was accepted, and at the sounding of the Trumpets, they encountred one another couragiously, with such laudable behauiour in fight, as was greatly commended of euery one.

At length, the Knight of Fortune threw his enemie against the ground, with such violence, that euery one thought he had béene slayne downe right, and s [...]epping to him, hee would haue smitten off his head, but the Emperour commaunded the con­trarie, graunting to him the Conquest, with the Tentes of the knight of Death, and the picture of Altea, to vse at his pleasure.

Then came the Emperour and the Ladyes downe, to see the knight that da [...] wonne this honour, [...]ut hee perceyuing them, [Page] comming, and fearing to be knowne called Syluian to him, and slipt away among the Throng secretly, which highly displeased the Emperour, till hee vnderstood, that he would not haue him­selfe knowne. Then the Knights triumphed, the Ladies reioy­ced, (though ignorant of the Lady, for whom the Knight of For­tune aduentured) and so they accompanied the Emperor ioyful­ly to his Pallace, the knight of Death being brought after them, very sore wounded, and lead by his Esquyres. Thus may you sée fayre Ladies, the vncertainty of Fortune, who raiseth when she list, and throweth downe when she list: so that it is better to kéepe at her foote▪ in a quiet estate, then presume to her head, and gaine so sore a fall.

CHAP. XXVI.
¶Howe the Emperour in honour of the good lucke that had chaunced, ordained that night a braue Dauncing, wherein he greatly gratified the Ladies. And how on the next mor­ning, he went accompanied with the Empresse, and all the Ladies, to the Tent of the Knight of Death: where the La­dies tooke the courage, in the behalfe of their Knightes, to ransacke and spoyle the Sepulchre of Louers.

AFter that the Emperour had séen this braue Conquest, he desired the Ladies that Night, to ende the Triumph, with all Courtly pas­times, both of Masking and of Dauncing, which request all generally gaue consent vn­to, except the Princesse Bazilia, who still mourned for the absence of her Lord Vernar. When the knights that had bin vanquished by the Knight of Death, heard of this generall ioy, they to make theyr Ladyes amendes, for the repulse they had sustayned, came [Page] into the great Hall, where Courting their Ladies, they daunced and passed the Night▪ with honest and decent talke, in their de­lightfull exercise. The Princesse Polinarda, as by the mutuall consent of the Ladies, she bare the superioritie of beautie from Altea, so had she commendation, for her stately behauiour in the Daunce, which graced her person maruellously, and made the more liuely apparaunce of her beautie.

On the morrow, the Emperor was desirous to sée the▪ Tent of the Knight of Death, wherefore hee gaue commaundement that his Dinner should be there prouided: and so walking thi­ther with the Empresse Gridonia, the faire Polinarda, King Friso [...], and Florendos, with diuers of his Knights and Ladies. where they were brauely and royallie feasted. When Dinner was ended, they went to beholde the whole Tent: where, at the first entrance, was placed the Statue of the faire Altea, whose beautie made excuse for all the Knights, in that they were con­quered by one, whose fayre and splendaunt hewe, was estéemed excellent, and that the knight of Death, had good occasion to take it heauily: for her, whose Beauty was comparable to any, the Princesse Polynarda excepted. Then went they to sée the Se­pulchre of Louers, where the Ladies beheld the names of their Knights, with their Armour and Deuises they had made, in the behalfe of their fauors, a thing which displeased some of the La­dyes, in that they should be thought Prisoners to the knight of Death, which moued the faire Onistalda, seeing the bashfulnesse of the Prince Berolde here Seruant, to begin thus. Faire Sy­sters, it séemeth we are beholding vnto none, but onely the har­die Knight, who hath done vs this honour, to defend that by his valour, which else had bene depriued from vs for euer. And be­cause we will no longer be subiect in this Prison of our Loue, I will take the hardinesse vpon mee, to set first hand to the spoy­ling of this Sepulchre. Wherewith shee tooke vp the Table, wherein was the Image of her own beauty, which the Prince Berolde presently caught from her, and hid it vnder his Gowne. Then euery Lady began in such order, that they had quickly de­faced y Sepulchre of Louers, vsing such courage in their dealings, as the Amazonians, when they came to the ayde, of the stately [Page] Towne of Troye, where the Greekes were no more earnest in their desire, then these Ladyes were in the destroying the Sepul­chre of Louers.

The Emperour vpon this sight, was very sorie that he could not gayne the knowledge of the knight, nor for whose sake this honour was done, therefore he knew not to which Ladie to im­pute it, yet hee somewhat perswaded him selfe, that in [...]time he should knowe him: partly coniecturing that it was the Noble young Palmerin, which caused him to vse comfortable spéeches to the knights, that had to their great heauinesse, bene captiues in the Sepulchre of Louers.

Then walking vnto his Pallace, the Empresse caused the I­mage of Altea to be taken downe, and brought into her Cham­ber, where she placed it according as her rare perfections did de­serue, which was taken in very yll part by all the Ladyes, that their Beauty should vs disgraced by a straunge Daine, and shée so highly estéemed in the Empresse fauour.

The Knight of Fortune made great haste, doubting least he should be sent for backe, and so haue discouered what hee was: for that if the Emperor sent, he durst not disobey his will, which the better to preuent, he rode till he resolued himselfe he was far enough from recalling. But as he was greatly contented with his honourable Conquest, so was hée heauily oppressed, in thin­king on his Lady, whose angry countenance made a more déepe wound into his heart, then the weapon of his Enemy had pow­er to enter. But Syluian, who was Chyrurgian to his Mai­sters Passions, vsed his good perswasions, which was of more force with the Prince, then any other that might offer to talke to him. For Nature willed him to ac­cept his intreaty, when neyther cou­rage nor crueltie in any o­ther, might com­pell him.

CHAP. XXVII.
How the knight of the Sauage man, leauing Blandidon in the Tristfull Valley, in the Realme of Lacedemonia, tooke shipping to trie the aduenture of great Brittain, but chan­cing to go on land in Ireland, he came to the castle of the Giant Calfurnien, who kept three Ladies prisoners in his Castle. And how the knight of the Sauage man encountred Calfurnian, and slew him.

HEre haue I thought good to remember the knight of the Sauage man, who leauing Blandidon in the Tristfull Valley, came to the cittie of Lambel, where he imbarked himselfe toward the Forrest of great Brit­taine, minding to visite King Fredericke, and the Princesse Flerida, and then to séek the Castle of Dramusiande, which was greatly talked on, for the losse of the knights. And now had Dramusiande set the Es­quires of the knights at libertie, but carryed them forth in such pollitique manner, that they could neither returne againe to the Castle, nor giue any report in what place it stood.

The knight of the Sauage man had such a prosperous winde, that at last they had sight of the coast of England, but on a sud­den, arose such a tempest, as carryed them perforce vpon the coast of Ireland, taking hauen at the mount of Saint Cyprian▪ because they could not reach the port of Moricque. The knight of the Sauage man had a great desire to land: but the maister perswaded him to the contrary, with these words. I desire you Sir, to take good respect in what you enterprise, for well you know, vnhappinesse dwelleth next doore to hardines, and dan­ger is the neighbour to earnest desire: therefore in all your acti­ons, vse a good foresight, so may you the better preuent any [Page] For on yonder Mountaine, dwelleth a Giant of no lesse vgly­nesse of person, then renowned in his puissance, hee hath to name Calfurnien, whose crueltie is such, that if any chance in­to his hands, it is their present death. Wherefore, good Sir, be ruled by your friend, who would be loath you should fall in­to so great folly. Syr (quoth the Knight of the Sauage man) I giue you as great thankes, as I perceiue your counsell ten­deth to my welfare: But it he be so cruell as you speake of, it were good to teach him some courtesie, if he can conceiue none of himselfe. And so much trust do I repose in Fortune, that shee will suffer me to deale with him, albeit not to conquer him which if it returne the losse of my life, I estéeme it the lesse, in so much as he shall perceiue courage and courtesie, in one that would wish as much in himselfe.

The maister seeing no perswasion might auaile, sent him with his Esquire Artifer on land in the little Cocke, commit­ting him to the reward of all good Fortune. The knight of the Sauage man, accompanyed with his Esquire, trauelled vp the Mountaine, which was very thicke beset with Trées, till at last he came to a little Pauilion, before which lay a great ma­ny Trunchions of Speares and broken Armour, belonging to such knights, as were there foyled, in seeking the Castle. Walking on farder in a litlle path, which he saw traced with very fresh blood, he was lead by the droppes thereof, to the sight of the Castle gate, which was placed on such an vnmea­surable height, that he was faine to alight, and walk vpon foot, his armour being very troublesome vnto him, and walking thorow such a narrow passage, that hee was very wearie. When he had attained the top of the hill, hee saw the Giant, being such a man, as the Master of the Ship reported, before him stoode seuen well appointed men at Armes, holding fowre knights on their knées before the Giant. Thrée Ladies looking foorth at the Castle window, which the Giantesse kept there (as Prisoners perforce) séeing the Knight of the Sauage man, and sorrowing any good knight, should come to such a Tyrant, they all began a grieuous and sorrowfull lamentation. The Giant espying the knight of the Sauage man, sent thrée of his knights [Page] to take him, and bring him to his presence, who stood leaning vpon his Sword, for that he was very wearie with comming vp the high hill: then they came to him, commaunding him to yéeld, or else they would slay him. The knight of the Sauage man, hearing their rough wordes, stoode not waiting for nice tearmes, but made this answere. I rather chuse to abide the danger, in denying your command, then to trust to your cour­tesie, in yéelding my selfe, for as I little estéeme your friendship, so do [...] I make lesse account of your furie. With these wordes he saluted one of them so friendly vpon the head, that hee fell downe dead at his foot [...]: as for the other twaine, he dealt with them so reasonably, that hee paid them their debt in the same coine.

Then aduancing himselfe to the Castell gate, Calfurnien who had knowledge of this mishap, came foorth very stronglie armed with a mightie shield, and a great Mace of Iron, hauing the head very thicke beset with Azure nailes, that no shield nor armour, but it would enter into: and in this manner he spake to the Knight of the Sauage man. Alas, poore knight, Fortune was not ouermuch thy friend, when she conducted thee hither, but rather thought her selfe much cumbred with thée, and that I should sacrifice thée to her for mine owne honour. The abuse thou hast offered me, in [...]laying my knights, hath prepared a rod so sharpe for thée, as thou wilt wish thy boldnesse had béen bet­ter gouerned. The courteous knight, who had neuer séene any Giant before, and maruelling at his mightie stature, would not vse any perswasion to himselfe of prosperous successe, but in this manner gaue him his answere.

Me thinks sir, it were more commendation for you, and greater honour euery way, to disburden your heart of cruell at­tempts, and embrace a courteous and ciuill kinde of life. For as God hath made you more mighty then other men, so to those that are your inferiours, you should vse a gentle demeanour, which would better agrée with Knighthood, then with sauage qualities. Calfurnien was in such a rage at these wordes, that he presently returned him this answere. I would there were before me, tenne of the strongest Knightes on the earth, that I [Page] might reuenge these taunting wordes on them, because thy death can not satisfie my furie, and then shouldest thou per­ceiue what it were to me with impatience. God Syr (quoth the knight of the Sauage man) disdaine not weake men, though your owne strength be monstrous: but if it shall like you, to Combate in the Court within your Castell, I may hap to saue mine Knights a labour, because a tenth is here, who though hee be not so big as ten, will doe as much one. Then Calfurnien willed the Knight of the Sauage man, to goe with him into the Castell, and at length they came into a faire Court, where stood a faire Fountaine, the water issuing foorth of the mouthes of two Dwarffes, that were artificially made in Christall vpon it, and all about it, was very faire Iasper pillers, the court ha­uing such goodly lodgings and Chambers, that he greatly pitied [...]o faire a place should be kept by such a cruell person, For as the Historie maketh mention, this goodly Castell was built by the King of Ireland, wherein he would often recreate himselfe, when he rode on hunting: but the father of this Giant, named Rauiassor, tooke it from the King perforce, and liued therein, with all his progenie.

Calfurnien and the Knight of the Sauage man, being rea­die appointed, charged one another with such puissant strokes, that the victorie stood very doubtfull, especially in the knight of the Sauage man, who had his Shield all broken in péeces by Calfurnien his Mace of Iron, beside, the sore blowes he had vpon his body, put him in great danger of his life. Yet did he so well apply himselfe to Calfurnien, that he had mangled his bodie, armes and legs, in diuerse places, which mooued him to such anger, that he threw downe his Shield, taking his Mace in both handes, intending the present death of the hardie knight. But he escaping the stroke, and taking vp his Shield, which was somewhat too heauy for him: held him play, till he was glad to draw his Fauchion, wherwith he sent such a blow vpon his owne Shield, that he could not recouer his Fauchion out againe, which the Knight of the Sauage man, perceiuing, str [...]gke his hseles vpwarde, so that he got him vpon his backe, where, with his sword that was halfe broken off, hee lest him [Page] not while he found any life in him. Then sate he downe to rest himselfe, being sore wounded. and very faint with the losse of much blood, which made him to lie stil a good while, ere he could mooue himselfe any way.

CHAP. XXVIII.
How the three Ladies that were Prisoners in the Castle, hea­led the wounds the Knight of the Sauadge man, had recei­ued by the Giant Calfurnien. And how when hee was in perfect good health, he gaue the Castle to Orianda, one of the sisters (and all three, the Daughters of the Marquesse Beltamor) and so he departed towards England.

WHen the three Ladies that were in the Ca­stle, perceiued the Giant Calfurnian to be slaine, and the noble Knight of the Sauage man, to lie in such danger of his life, they came all speedily vnto him, and taking off his Armour, were very carefull to stench his bleeding of his wounds. Orianda, the eldest of the Sisters, who had greater experience in Medicine then the other twaine, and was of a more sharpe and ingenious capacitie, would not suffer her o­ther two Sisters to meddle in any thing, but tooke the whole charge vnto her, to prouide him such néedefull things as were requisite, and to shewe her selfe thankefull, for his well imploy­ed paines. At last, Artiser his Esquire came vp with his Mai­sters Horse, and seeing the great danger he was in, became ve­ry pensiue and full of griefe, and while the Ladies carried his Lord into a very faire Chamber, he barred fast the gates, so that [...]one might enter in, which they somewhat stood in feare of, be­cause the Giant was slaine, that any should come to his reskew [Page] There was the knight of the Sauage man kept, vntill such time as he had attained to more strength, who when hee had gotten a little health, would faine haue béene gone, but the la­dies restrained him to the contrary, declaring to him, the dan­ger that might happen vnto him, if so soone he would loade his body with his armour, that was brought very low, and rather required more strength. Their great courtesie liked him so wel that he was loath to do any thing they should mis [...]ike of, wher­fore [...]tting talking with them, he desired them that without of­fence hee might demaund, as considering their estates, their names and Countrey, and by what mishap they chanced into the Giants gouernment? Artanaina, the second Sister, whose beautie was equall with her Maidenly behauiour, resolued him of their names, and then began this. Worthy Syr, albeit the vttermost of [...]ut power, is too [...]mple to [...] our noble paines, yet esteeme the valour of our good [...], which is the richest reward wee can requite you withall. [...], our estates, we are all three sisters, and daughters to the [...] Beltamor, vassaile to the renowned Fredericke King of Eng­land, who vpon the enuious report of slanderous tongues, (our Father being endued with great riches, and large possessions, when he came to inhabit this place, whervpō thrée mountains, he caused to be built thrée faire castles, determining one to each of vs after his discease: which place both was, and is yet called, The Mountaines of the three sisters) all this aforesaide liuing, he was in the Kings displeasure disinherited of, and we left to abide other mens reuersion, sauing the three Castles, which were left for honours sake, to sustaine vs in. After our Fathers death, we resorted each of vs, to our appointed Castle, keeping them [...] from this Giant whom you haue slaine, that [...] to defeate vs of them. But when wee were in [...] his minde, because hee had well le [...]t [...] then were we soonest of all deceiued. For [...] full twenty dayes [...], wee met by appointment all together, [...] our Castles, where a little Pauillion was [...], for the time, hauing in our com­pany [...] and louing friends. This Giant [Page] (who by his Spyes was admonished of our being there) came suddenly vpon vs, thrée of our Knights slaine, the other glad to take themselues to flight: and hee brought vs with him into this place. To which place, if good Fortune had not conducted you, we had beene depriued of our small wealth, but that which is most of all, the chiefe Ornament of our honour, had stoode to an vncertaine award.

The Knight of the Sauadge man, who had bene well ac­quainted with their Father in the Engl [...]. Court, and heard of the good report of his thrée Daughters: [...]eioyced that by his one­ly meanes they had purchased deliuery, and that it was his hap to Land in such a lucky time, promising them to vse such meanes on their behalfe to King Fredericke his Soueraigne, that they should againe possesse the Liuings belonging to their Noble Fa­ther, whose offence hee knewe to be so small, that he might easi­ly purchase the Ladies theyr owne. When he had abode there, till he was well able to beare Armour, he desired Orianda to accept that Castle, in recompence of the paynes shee had be­stowed on him in his weakenesse: promising both to her and her Sisters, his Hand and Sword, when any néede should re­quire. the Ladies vsed large thankes vnto him, for his so great courtesie, desiring him to make knowne his Name vnto them, that they might commend his memorie, who had bene so good a friend vnto them.

To which request he thus answered: Ladies, my name is as yet so little knowne, that I am the more vnwilling to shew it to any, till I deserue to be estéemed among those, whose noblenesse is no lesse then their Name. Desiring you to accept of this au­swere as now, and thinke not that my déedes shall reproue my word: but that at any time, I will imploy my selfe in your ser­uice. But first I must hazarde my selfe, in the Aduentures of great Brittaine, wherein so many Noble and famous Knights haue receyued great aduantage, which if I may finish, or in try­all, safely escape, you shall knowe the small estimation I will repose of my life, to trye the déepest doubtes for such Honourable Ladyes. Syr (quoth Artinarda) if our Prayers may preuaile, or our wishes returne to any good effect, doubt not but we wil be [Page] earnest therein, for your prosperous successe in great Brittaine. And estéeme your poore handmaides, not stretching beyond the boundes of modestie, yours so farre as courtesse may and shall commaund. After many gentle salutations, the knight of the Sauage man departed, accompanied with Artisar his Esquire, leauing the Ladies in more seuerity then he found them, not of­fering them once iniury or disloyaltie, for that hée estéemed the small faults of the noble and famous, were worthy as seuere punishment, as their hauty déedes of Armes, did rightly deserue eternall commendation, So in this maner he left them, taking shipping with all spéede toward the realme of England.

CHAP. XXIX.
How the Emperour walked to comfort the Knight of Death, who remained in great heauinesse for his faire Altea, who by the perswasion of the Emperour, determined to leaue that sorrowfull kinde of life, and to imploy himselfe in see­king strange aduentures. And how the Damosel Lucenda, returned vnto the Court, where shee gaue knowledge of the Knight of Fortune, which greatly reioyced the Empe­rour, and all the noble Knights of the Court.

IT hath béene already declared vnto you, the great displeasure which the Emperour tooke, for the departure of the knight, who bare the honour away (vnknowne) in the Triumph, wherefore, now you shall vnder­stand, how the Emperour remembring the heauie and pensiue estate of the knight of Death, went accompanied with his Princes and Lordes, to giue him some occasion of comfort, which might bee a meane, to driue foorth of his memory the continuall mour­nings [Page] he vsed for his faire Altea.

The Knight of Death being aduertised, how the Empe­rour was comming, came to the gate, attired in a long blacke gowne, agréeable to his sad and ioylesse kinde of life, where he receiued the Emperour, according to his obedient duetie. Then would the Emperour vse to giue him such pleasant spéeches, as might constraine him to forget his rufull com­plaints, but he giuing small attendance thereto, made answere to his Grace cleane contrary, to the no small amazement of his highnesse, as also his Courtly attendance, who greatly mar­uailed, to sée how vnfortunate desteny had ahe power to be­reaue a man, both of reason & vnderstanding, which was amply verified, in this sorrowfull prince of Sargignia. The Emperor to perswade the extremity of his fits, would rehearse diuerse perswasions of his owne knowledge, who had béene subiect to the like infirmity, and either cut off their time by desperation, or continued in a life bemoned of all persons: vpon which words he tooke occasion to vse this talke.

I would sir Floraman, not onely cōmend your loyaltie, but likewise attribute high honor to your constancy: if teares could call the dead to life, or the rufull mon [...]s, recouer your great losse. Yet doe I consider with my selfe, loue compels you to this, and your setled affection, hath brought you to an immoderate euill: but compare the impossibility, with the state and conditi­on of your griefe, you shal find the one as needlesse, as the other is helplesse, and the extreame to be refused, when the maine can not be recalled. Consider, if sorrowe eate into the heart, it is not presently to be withdrawne againe, if vexation haue woon the chiefest place, perswasion may weare her tonge to her téeth, ere she can bridle the impatient desire, so that if wisdome be not in man to intollerate his griefe, it may cost him the dearest him before he haue a quiet life. Doe but thus remember your selfe, impatience bring sorrow, sorrow sickenesse, sickenes consuma­tion, consumation the miserable Anatomy of himselfe, which is at error to his kinred, an eye sore to his friends, the delight of his enemy, and the continuall heart breaking of all that loue him, so that the sooner he ends, the better he mends.

[Page] On the other side, if a man apply himselfe to any exercise, as either trauaile, for the honour of himselfe, & fame of his Coun­trey or spending his time in martiall exploytes, or according as his estateis, the poore to take paine, the rich, paine with pleasure the Artificer and such, to their handie craft, the noble minde, the Courtly Gentleman, either to the exploytes of the field, or such exercise as may auoide idlenesse. Then is the eye directed, the sence quickened, the minde preserued, the heart quieted, the con­science vnpolluted, affection gouerned, loue bridled, and, lust ba­nished, the good name perfected, vertue established, honour well exercised, and Fame enternized.

Sée here the difference, betwéene heauen and hell, betwéene the contempt in this life, and conte [...]t eternall to the Soule, which who so séekes shall finde, but they that will not, are ouer fonde. Thinke thus with your selfe, Altea is dead, though I shrinke her beauty on earth, yet is her substance shouelled in the clay, though I delight in her Image and Picture, yet hath Death made an Anatomie of her fayre person: while she liued I loued her, being dead I remember her, and in her loue, I liue for her, as the honour I will enterprise shall witnesse, and the aduentures I will hazard shall manifest. So drowne this dul­led desire, in remembrance of your knighthood, which you enioy for manhood, not for mourning, to display your worthy deedes, and not to play in amorous Dities, but one moneths vsing this Medicine, trust me will extinguish this mallady.

When Floraman perceiued she earnest wordes of the Em­perour, to be both for the honour of his name, and noblenes of his life, he replyed thus. Most gratious Emperour, I see chat Goates blood will molifie the Adamant, and the little drops of raine, pierce into the hard Marble, s wisedome reproouing wil­fulnesse, sheweth him his follie, and perswasion piercing into the obstinate, doth more by friendship, then others can doe with force.

I confesse, the affection to Altea, hath both ouercharged my minde, and cleane dulled my wit, so that I neither séeme as I should he, nor doe that I ought, but sit musing on her loue, who hath no life, & endamage mine owne life, by such ouer fond loue. [Page] And since your Maiestie hath quickened mine idle Nature, and reuiaed the dutie which I owe vnto Knighthood, I will remem­ber my selfe in forgetting her, and though I cannot exclude her Loue on a sudden, yet tolleration and perswasion, in time may doe something. And because the honor of the field, can asswage this fondnesse, and my dutie commaundeth mee, to employ my seruice, I will hazard my selfe on my good Fortune, to winne as much by strength, as I haue lost by yll happe. Wherefore desi­ring that your Maiestie would entertaine mee in your Courte, and vnder your noble Name, to séeke after Aduentures, I am re­solued to forsake all follie, and pursue that valiantly, whereto I haue bene enemie.

The Emperour séeing the change of Floraman, to be as hear­tily pretended as himselfe desired: he thus answered: I thinke my selfe both highly Honoured, and greatly steéemed in the fa­uour of Fortune, to receyue so good a Knight, by whose ende­uour, I hope himselfe shalbe worthily accounted, and the Fame of my Courte for euer extolled. Then Floraman would haue knéeled to kisse the Emperours hand, but hee gratiously sustay­ned him in his armes, with great thanks on eyther side, liberal­ly bestowed.

By this time was the Damosell Lucenda returned to the Court, whom the Empresse among hir other ladies, came wal­king withall, to the Chamber of Floraman, where knowledge was giuen, that shee could reueale the Knight who had conque­red Floraman. The Emperour being very desirous to know, willed her to make report of him, when she began in this man­ner. The Knight of Fortune who hath accomplished this No­ble piece of seruice, is the young Prince Palmerin, that Polen­dos King of Thessalie did present vnto you, when the Ladie of the Lake sent her Letter to your Highnes. For he happening to the Castle of mine Aunt Rianda, when with your gratious con­sents I went to visite her, I rehearsed the pensiue estate of our Courtly Ladyes, séeing all theyr knights sent to the Sepulcher of Louers, vppon which report he came, and hath fulfilled that which could not be done by manie. And as I returned to the Court againe, I mette him, very hastily riding, yet stayed to desire [Page] me, on his behalfe to craue pardon of your Maiestie for his so sudden departure, not intending to returne vnto the Court, till he had assaied the aduenture of great Brittaine, wherein he supposed all the famous Knights to be lost. Moreouer, he desi­reth your highnesse, to bestow the tent of the Knight of Death on her that had the power to staine the beautie of Altea, and to whom he is euer dutifull affectioned, his Ladie and Mistresse Polynarda, which said, he departed, leauing me to declare what your Highnesse hath heard.

The Emperour not able to conceale the pleasure which his heart had receiued, began thus. I promise you faire Ladies, my mind did somewhat perswade me that it should bee he, al­though I would not perfectly resolue thereon: for in what place so euer he shall aduenture. I dare imagine his Fortune such, as he shall preuaile, both to the comfort of the destressed, and to sa­tisfie the longing of our minds. As for his Tent, it shall bee be­stowed according to his desire: neuerthelesse, I would wish it might be well vsed, vntill it shall be his good lucke to returne, for I beléeue he will employ it with continuall victorie, as hee hath endeuoured to win it by valiancie. As for you Lucenda, I will not be vnmindfull of your good newes, as also estéeme of you, as you do iustly deserue. So returning into his Pallace, the ioy on euery side, made apparance of the glad receit of these wished tidings.

CHAP. XXX.
How Recamon, the Knight of the Greene Tree, and Sonne to the King of Bohemia, came to the Emperors Court, to de­fend the beautie of his Ladie Lucina, against the faire Al­tea, and the Knight of Fortune, whom he heard had con­quered the Knight of Death. And how Tremoran, on the behalfe of the Knight of Fortune, waged Combat against him.

[Page] NOt long after Lucenda had declared these tidings, when the Emperour sate with his knights reioycing in the towardly beha­uiour of the young Prince, there entred in a knight in his presence, bearing in his shéetd a Greene Tree, and his armour of the like color, who after his obeysance made began as thus. Let it not enter your-disliking (most famous Emperour) that I presume so boldly before you, insomuch as the cause of my coming doth vrge me to this enterprise. I am one whom promise bindeth to conceale my name, till I haue tryed the aduenture of great Brittaine, wherein if I proue for­tunate, it will giue me the; greater courage to bewray my selfe. It hath bene greatly famed abroade, that a Iust was pro­claimed in your Court, for the beautie of a Lady named Altea, in which to aduenture my self, I haue trauelled hither, to main­taine that my Lady and Mistresse called Lucina, deserueth the perfect praise aboue all for beautie. But since I arriued here, it hath bene told me that a knight is departed from your Court, bearing the renowne of this Triumph away: which newes do not a little displease me, in that it was my desire to contend with him, or any on my Ladyes behalfe. Wherefore if I may desire so much courtesie, as to know where he is, or whither he departed. I shall thinke my selfe continually bound to you in duetie, and will search that Knight, though it be to the losse of my life. Syr (quoth the Emperour) I would as gladly heare of that knight as your selfe, and am as ignorant where hr is at this time, as yourselfe, but I thinke you shall not tra­uell very farre, but you shall heare such famous report of him. as will conduct you to the place where he is, because the valour of his behauiour is such, as he is vnknowne in no place, but to be heard of euery where. Neuerthelesse, if might counsell you I would wish your minde changed from so fond an enterprise, because I can hardly beleeue that the aduenture wil quite your labour.

[Page] The good opinion you hold of him (answered the Knight) maketh me the more affectionate to séeke him, and the more fa­mous his deeds is, the greatter estimation shall I conceyue to deale with such a one. For if Fortune stand my friend, and I conquere him, that is so well liked of all, I doubt not, but the reputation I shall gaine, will constraine you to thinke as well of me, as now you repose a good affiance in him. Tremoran, the sonne to the Duke Lecesia, and Nephew to the Emperour Trineus, hearing the proud wordes of the Knight, aduanced himselfe towards him, with this greeting. Imagine that For­tune hath been greatly your friend, to send you hither when he is gone, least by misaduenture, you should chaunce to méete him, who wold so settle your armor to your shoulders, that you would curse your Lady, to abide his Canuazado. Neuertheles, albeit he is not here, yet he hath such friends here, as would bee sorrie you should depart without some recompence for your tra­uell. And vnder the Emperours correction, I will be the man that shall bring you acquainted with the Knight of Fortune, so that ere you depart, you shall know he hath left such friends be­hind him, as will giue liberall entertainement to those that seek him in this manner.

The Knight was halfe offended at the words of Tremoran, which made him presently to giue this reply. I thinke sir, the good will you beare to the Knight, maketh you so foolish hardy in that which appertaineth not vnto you, yet because you dare aduenture so much in his behalfe, and will welcome Knights in such a brauery, arme your selfe presently, because I would bee loath a cold calme should come ouer this hotte matter. The Emperour (though vnwilling) accepted their gages, and gran­ted them licence to Combate. When in short time Tremoran came into the fielde, gallantly mounted, wearing blacke Ar­mour, as the signe of his heauinesse, for the departure of the Prince Primaleon, bearing in his Shield a ramping Lion: then at the sound of the Trumpets, they couched their Speares, set Spurres to their Horses, and made a very braue Encoun­ter, that the Trunchions of their Speares flew vp into the Ayre, and were faine at last to ende their Combate with their [Page] Swords. In fine, what with expence of Blood, griefe of theyr wounds, and great wearinesse in Fight, catching each other in their armes, they fell both to the ground: the Regardants at­tributing the victory to Tremoran.

The Emperour séeing they were so fore hurt, caused Tremo­ran to conueyed into his Pallace, and the Esquyre of the other Knight, conducted his Maister to his Lodging: where hee vsed such diligence in his Attendaunce, that hee recouered to a little stranger estate: Then sent the Emperour to require of whence, and what the Knight was: word being returned, that hee was Sonne to the K: of Bohemia, and named Recamon, vpon which tidings, he presently sent for him into his Palace: where he was honourably vsed, till such time he had gained his healbh.

And then he departed from thence toward great Brittaine, ac­companyed with Florendos and Platir, Sonne to the Prince Primaleon: who pittying the great sorrowe of theyr Mother, the Princesse Gridonia, aduentured among the other Knights, in the search of theyr Noble Father, as also to hazard the Aduen­ture of great Brittaine.

This Recamon beeing trauelling thither, and being one ad­dicted to a great vaine glorie of himselfe, by the trust hee reposed in his owne manhood, hearing how Floraman had attempted at Constantinople, altered his minde, and came thither to defend the beauty of the Lady Lucina, who was Daughter to the King of Denmarke. Spéeding there so ill as you haue heard, he retur­ned with the Knights to his former determination, they leauing the Emperour somewhat sad for theyr departure, yet theyr hau­tie attempt, with the glad issue hee looked for, perswaded him to take patiently their absence for the time.

CHAP. XXXI.
How the Knight of Fortune, taking shipping at Totnes, at length landed in the Realme of England, and chancing into the Forrest where he was borne, he met with the Sa­uage man, that had nourished him so long in his Caue.

LOng trauailed the Damosell Lucenda, till at the last he came to the Cape of Totnes, where he tooke shipping toward England, and landed at the port of Saint Mathew, two miles from Sorlingue, accompanyed with a Gentlewoman, that came in the Passage with him, at whose house he rested one night, and departed on the next morning. Then rode he foreward, friendly talking with Siluian, and reioycing that he was arriued in the place, where he determined to put his For­tune in triall. Trauelling on along in a Forrest, he came at last to the Fountaine where he was christened, where sitting downe by this water to refresh himselfe, he espyed come run­ning forth of a thicket of Trées, a Hart very fiercely pursued by a Lyon, who running still toward the Prince, at last came and lay downe at his féete, as one might iudge, to craue his defence. Wherewith he arose, and offering to strike with his sword at the Lyon, he presently yéelded himselfe at his féete likewise. Their two horses moued with feare by the Lyon brake their bridles, and ranne into the woods, after them Siluian hied a pace, leauing the Prince with two gentle beasts.

The knight of Fortune looking about, espied comming from the place, where the Hart did issue forth, a Sauage man with the skin of a beast made close to his body, in his one hand a bow and arrows, in the other a couple with a chaine, where with he [Page] ledde his Lyon. When he had espyed the knight of Fortune, he drew his bow and let slie an arrow at him, with such force, that it pierced into his sheeld, but the gentle prince knowing him to be his foster father, who had nourished him so long in his Caue beganne to vse reuerence vnto him▪ & to certifie him what he was. The Sauage man hauing not the patience to heare him, came towards him with such violence, that he was constrained with his sheeld to thrust him away, so that therewith he fall on the ground. Then the Prince imbraced him, giuing him to vn­stand how long he had nourished him, with his sonne Siluian, who was gone to take his horses, that had started away at the fight of the Lyon. With these words the Sauage man did re­member him, and imbracing him in his armes, he walked with him vnto his Caue, desirous all the way to tell him, how he had taken him out of the armes of his mother: but because he would not so soone for sake him, he held him with other talke, and so spent the time, till they came to the Caue, where the [...]auage mans wife imbraced him very louingly: requesting what was become of her sonne Siluian. Her husband did de­clare, about what businesse he was gone, which did pacifie her very well, and so she dsired the Prince to rest that night, in a little closet, wherin he had slept many night when he was there and so féeding on so small pittance as they had, they went to take their rest. On the morrow, the woman wold haue shown him the linnen cloathes [...]he had about him, when her husband brought him home, but he he would not suffer his wife to do so, because he should not esteeme him stil for his father, and Siluian for his brother, whose long tarria [...]ce abroad all that night, and as then [...], greatly dipleased the Prince, as also his pa­rents, who were desirous to see him. At last, séeing he came not the Prince tooke his leaue and departed, to sée if he could méete him by the way, because he doubted some harme had falne him: the Sauage man and his wife greatly la [...]ting for his depar­ture, as also because they might not see their sonne.

CHAP. XXXII.
¶How the Knight of Fortune departing from the Sauage man, rescued Siluian from foure cruell villaines, that tor­mented him very grieuously, and how he slew the Giant Camboldam, brother to the Giant Calfurnian.

AFter that the Knight of Fortune was depar­ted from the Sauage man, he trauelled on foot the most part of the day, til at last he came to the place, where Polendos King of Thessaly receiued him into his ship, when as hee brought him to Constantinople, which con­strained him to remember the great curtesie of the Emperour, with the great vnkindnesse of his Lady Po­linarda, on whose behalfe hee fell into such extreame Passi­ons, that what with wearinesse, and forcible assaultes of griefe, he suddenly fell into a slumber. He had not long slept, but in great feare hee awaked, for that his minde did perswade some ill aduenture toward him: then looking about him, he espied a ship couered with greene boughes, and thither he went to see what it might be.

Being there arriued, hee saw two men come foorth of the ship, making great lamentations, desiring him to flie, if hee had regard to his owne life. But then to his greater amazement, stepped foorth foure armed men, with Holbardes and Dagges in their hands, cruelly beating Siluian whom they had taken, and compassing the Prince, that he should not escape. Then the Prince offered to vnbind Silnian, but they told him, that hee must abide: which mooued the Prince to such anger, that with his Gauntlet he strook one of them so sore vpon the face, that he tumbled him cleane ouer, then with his sword hee assailed the [Page] ouer three: that two of them were slaine, the other escaped in slight: which done, he vntied Siluian, requesting him to report, how he chanced into that mishap.

Siluian was so amazed with feare, and so sore with beating, that as yet he could not answere to this demand, but looking aside, they espied two men come leading their two horses, and after them a tall and ougly. Giant, bearing in his Shield, three Giants heades, whom Siluian reported to be the man, that had in this order abused him. The Prince was somewhat in feare at his monstrous bignesse, and offered him reuerence according to his curteous stature: but the Giant séeing his men slain, stood not to vse wordes, but strooke at the Prince very vehemently, with which stroke, his shield was cleft in the middest, that hee knew hardly how to defend himselfe. Neuerthelesse, such was the valure of the noble knight of Fortune, (albeit the fight was dangerous to eyther part) that at length hée conquered the Gi­ant, and strooke off his head: presently falling on his knees, and giuing thankes to God, whose prouidence did aide him in such a dangerous Combat.

The men that lead the two Horses, came and fell downe be­fore the Prince, desiring him to saue their liues, for that they were constrained against their wils, to attend on that mischie­uous wretch, who vsed them likewise too too cruelly. Their faire intreaty had quickly perswaded him: so that he desired them to report what this Giant was, and after what manner he liued. Their answere was, that he was called Camboldam of Mul­zell [...], the Lord of Penebroque, one of the cruellest Tyrants in all the world: who hauing knowledge, that a knight had slaine his brother Calfuiniā. he v [...]wed to take sharpe reuenge on eue­ry one that should happen into his hands. Vpon this occasion he sailed from his Countrey, & landing on this Coast in yonder sh [...]p, he f [...]nt to see if Fortune would send any, to appease the hell of his bloody minde, and méeting with that yong man run­ning to catch his Horses which had strayed from him, he cōmit­ted him to these which lye here dead, that they might torment with endlesse paine. Thus haue we certified all we can say, de­siring you to vse vs in what seruice yon please.

[Page] The Knight of Fortune reioyced in his goodlucke, and desired them to go into England, & certifie vnto the King Fredericke, how the Knight of Fortune had slaine the Giant Camboldam, and they should commaund him, in any thing to pleasure them. They promising to fulfill his request, departed presently, and the Knight of Fortune with Siluian, mounted on their Horses: and tooke their iourney presently towards great Brittaine, where he meant to accompany the noble Princes, or else deli­uer them out of their long seruitude.

CHAP. XXXIII.
How Siluian declared to the knight of Fortune, in what man­ner of the Sheeld of the Palme Tree was taken from him, to saue it from the cruel Giant Camboldan. And how hap­pened to see the Combate, betweene Platir, Floroman, Pompides and Blandidon: As also how the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley, came and brought him to his Castle, where he shewed him many goodly, and not able Monu­ments.

FOrtune aduancing the honor of her knight, in obtaining this famous Conquest, caused him to proceede on further, to discouer the depth of other, hidden doubts, and as hée rode, perceiuing his shield past any means for seruice, asked of Siluian the shield of the Palme Tree, because his iourney lay through dangerous places, and therefore estéemed it wisedoms to be alwayes prouided.

When he saw the shéelde was gone, wherein he reposed most affection, kéeping it for an extreame néede, he willed Silui­an to report, how and after what manner, he had suffered it be taken from him, to which demand, Siluian thus answered.

[Page] All the way as we haue iournied, I was deuising how I might make knowne to you this losse, without gayning your disple a sure, or mouing you to Anger: which two causes, made to con­ceale it all this while. When such was my mishap, that this cru­ell Giant tooke me, a Damsel mounted on a white palfrey, came crossing ouer the Forrest to me, vsing her spéeches thus:

Siluian, deliuer the Shield thou bearest, to me, ere thou suffer it to fall into the hands of this Giant thine aduersarie, where it can neuer be recouered again, and may cause a great endamage­ment: and thus much I will faithfully promise thée, to yéelde it into thy Maisters hande againe, when he shall stand in such néed as to vse it. Her gentle spéeche, and the present daunger before mine eyes, did vrge me rather to giue it her, then mine enemie, should enioy a thing of such honour: wherefore I gaue it to her, who presently departed, I could not tell which way, and then the Giant tooke me, vsing me as you found me.

The Knight of Fortune mused at the Euent, and could not iudge to what ende it was wrought: wherefore Siluian to put him out of his study, desired him to attend a great noyse, which he heard in a little Groue by them, as though it were the flashing of weapons in a Combat. Directing his course thither, he espyed foure knights on foote, very fiercely assailing one another: their Armour so brused, and their Shields so battered, that hee could hardly perceiue any of their Deuises, except it were one, which was the head of a white Bull, belonging to Pompides, the sonne of Don Edward. The sharp assaults betwéen these foure, vrged the Knight of Fortune to breake forth into these spéeches. Gen­tlemen, the great danger I perceiue you to stād in, with the grie­uous endamagement that may happen vnto you, constraineth me to desire, you would leaue this great rage, and end your strife friendly with reason, so shall you find it to your own cōmoditie, and my selfe always bound to you, If you accept of my counsell. Indéed (answered one of the Knights) our quarrell is grounded on so slight an occasion, as we might easily agrée to your honest desire. It doth onely consist in the knight of the Bull, who will the name of the knight he séeketh for, although he desired of vs likewise to vnderstand some tidings of him.

[Page] It is vnpossible for me to tell his name (answered the knight of the Bull) or if I could satisfi your desires, you could not any way compell me, so long as I haue this hand and sword to de­fend me. These words procured a fresh strife, and too it they f [...]ll againe very fiercely, and without any regard of themselues: which greatly pitied the knight of Fortune, to sée such couragi­ous mindes, subiect to so great a hazard, which he was very loth to tarry and behold: but he greatly esteemed one of the knights, who was in white Armour, and dealt his blowes so freely, that he was in least danger of them all. Then did the knight of For­tune once more perswade them to leaue the fight, but they were so seuerely bent the one against the other, that they scant knew themselues what they did.

At last a suddaine darknesse sent from the Castle of the Sage Aliart, ouershadowed them, at the departure whereof, the knight of Eortune sawe all the foure knights laid in a Charyot, drawn with foure blacke Horses, which made him somewhat abashed, and mooued him to demand of one of the Esquirs, that droue the Chariot, what knights they were, that had fought this sore Combate: To whom he answered, that the knight in the white Armour, was Platir, sonne to the noble Primaleon, the other was Floraman, the Prince of Sardignia: the other two knights were Pompides and Blandidon, who entred their Combate, about the enquiring after the knight of Fortune, which made them leaue the Emperours Court: enterprising likewise the ad­uenture of great Brittaine, if they might meete with this knight, whose friendly company they alway desired. But see the misfortune, as they arriued here, not farre from great Brit­taine, these two other knights met thē, demanding also for the knight of Fortune, so words arysing on either side, why they should seeke after this knight, they fell to this fierce skirmish, which your selfe hath partly seene, to the losse (I feare) of our noble Maisters, except we were neare some place, where wee might make prouision for them.

The knight of Fortune was greatly moued at this tale, and perswaded the Esquyres, to hasten with their Maister to Lon­don, where in short time no doubt, they might recouer their [Page] health, and thus in grief he departed from them. And as he rode very sad, he espied one come riding towards him, with his horn about his necke, attired like a hunter, who began in this man­ner to gréete him.

Behold thou noble Palmerin of England, the time wherein thy famous déeds, shall bring out of obliuion, the worthy Pro­wesse that long time hath béene hid, so that great Brittaine shal enioy the former quiet state. Be not offended, because I did enterprise so boldly to name you: for I am priuie to that, which shall happen by you, although your selfe remaineth ignorant thereof.

The knight of Fortune knew not what to thinke, to heare himselfe named in such a strange place, where he perswaded himselfe he was vnknowde to any: at length he beganne to thinke that it might be the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley, yet would he not certainly giue credite to his suspection, out of which doubt to remoue him, Aliart thus spake againe. Be not dismayed worthy Palmerio, for I am Aliart your seruant, who would gladly imploy my selfe in your seruice, to doe you the greatest honour I might. But as concerning what shall chance vnto you, I neither may or will as yet declare, bnt this assure your selfe, that you shall enioy a more quiet and happy estate, then as yet you do.

Sir Aliart (answered the knight of Fortune) God forbid I should request any thing, which you are not willing should bee knowne, but for the great bounty and friendship you haue vsed towards me, I remaine while my life endureth, both with loue and duetie to honour you. So walking on, at last they came to the Obscure Valley, where Aliart conducted the knight of Fortune into his Castle, and shewed him many rare and ex­cellent Monuments, the liuely shape of men and women, in faire Portraitures, which gaue a great delight to his noble minde, so that he thought this Castle, the fairest that euer he had séene in all his life. There remained he so long as him pleased, very well entertained by the Sage Aliart, who gaue him to vnderstand, how Platir and the other Knightes should be healed of their wounds without any danger. These newes [Page] pleased the knight Fortune very well: as also the great gentle­nesse, he found into the Sage Aliart, to certifie him many things that he desired.

CHAP. XXXIII.
How the Knight of the Sauage man, arriuing in England, tra­uailed towards the Citie of London, And how Eutropa sent a Damosell, and caused him to enter Combate, with the Princes Gracian, Francian, and Polinarda. In which fight they were all in great danger, till the Knight of Eng­land riding on hunting, chaunced to meete with them, who set them at vnitie, and brought them to the Court with him.

THe Knight of the Sauage man, being de­parted from Orianda, in the Castle of the Giant Calfurni [...]n, so long continued on the Se [...]s, that at last he arriued in England, entending to take his way straite to London, because he would see the king Fre­dericke, and the Princesse Flerida, but greatly lamented to sée the Forrest so ful of strange Knights, and Damosels that procured perillous ad­uentures. At last he espied a Damosell on a white Pal [...]ray, come riding towards him, her haire spread ouer her shoulders and her garments séeming to be greatly misused, all the way aa she rode, she vsed many skrikes, and gréeuous lamentations, which was greatly pittied by the Knight of the Sauage man, who saw a knight came hastily riding after her, whereupon she began to this gentle knight, in this manner.

Good Sir, as you regard the honor of knighthood, and the di­stressed [Page] estate of a poore Damosell, so at this time helpe to de­fend me from him that seekes to dishonour me, of that which maketh me esteemed amongst all vertuous persons. These words pierced so déepe into his noble minde, that he staied the knights coming, who was very well armed, and brauely mounted, to whom he began in these words. I perceiue both knighthood, and that armor is ill bestowed vpon you, that im­ploy your selfe in the persecution of a faire Damosel, when you are both bound by dutie, and by law of armes to defend her.

Sir (answered the strange knight) I desire you, let not the fained teares, and vniust complauit of this Strumpet, inueigle your minde, for it is not troth that she reporteth, neither am I so base minded, to pursue her causlesse. The knight of the Sa­uage man, was so perswaded by the Damosell, that he would not credite what he said, bnt answered him thus. Sir, you shall rather disaduantage me then dishonour her, and therefore pro­uide for your selfe. The strange knight seeing him so egerly bent, said, I am content, since you will enforce me to it, and not rule your desire by reason. Whereupon touching their Speares, they met together couragiously, so that the strange knight was cast, and the knight of the Sauage man faine to leape off from his horse, and drawing their Swordes, they layde at each other very cruelly, to the great hurt of them both.

In the meane time they were in figh, the Damosell had left them, and returned accompanied with two knights more, she­wing them the knight of the Sauage man, and saide. Behold Sir knights, the man that hath slaine my Father, and now would gladly worke the death of this my Brother (pointing to the knight that before had pursued her) wherefore I desire you to take reuengement on him. At these words, one of the knights alighted, and perceiued the knight that the Damo­sell named her brother, to be very sore wounded, stepped be­tweene them, saying to the knight of the Sauage man, Come Traytour deale with me, and not with him, whose losse of blood and wearinesse beside, desireth rather to take rest, then the Combate.

[Page] The knight of the Sauage man, was greatly offended at these wordes, wherefore he left the other, and went to him say­ing: I will make thée either recant thy wordes, or else I will leaue my life in this place. So charging one another very pu­issantly, the Knight of the Sauage man, laide him at last along on the earth, which the other knight séeing, and also the Armor of the gentle knight, to be greatly broken in many places, began as followeth, I sée Syr Knight, you are brought into such debi­litie, both with the great expence of your blood, as also weari­nesse, with long enduring the fight, that I thinke it great disho­nour to giue you a fresh assault, and small manhood in mee, to vrge you to such extremitie. The knight of the Sauage man still incensed with furie, for the vnkind wordes hee had receiued of them, returned him presently this answere.

As I haue little cause to estéeme of your friendship, so haue I lesse opportunity to craue your fauour, and though my wounds be yrkesome in your sight, yet can I endure the vttermost that you can charge me withall, wherefore set apart these words, and execute the extremitie of thy disloyall will. Thus breaking off their talke, they beganne to assault one another very rigo­rously, so that the knight sitting on Horse-back, conceiued great maruaile at the hauty courage of the knight of the Sauage man. While he occupied his eies in beholding this noble exploit, such féeblenesse entred the minde of his fellow, that he could scarcely hold his Sword, or kéepe himselfe from falling to the ground, and fearing he could not escape the death, being in such great disaduantage, he alighted from his Horse, and to the Knight of the Sauage man began in this manner.

Me thinkes Syr knight, it were for your better assurance of health, as also great gentlenes you might offer to these knights, to satisfie your desire vpon this victory, then to hope on a farder of me likewise, & so be depriued of that you might hardly spare, which might yéeld you greater disaduantage, then the conquest you haue gotten, will enlarge your renowne.

Syr (quoth the K. of the Sauage man) except he recant the shrewde wordes he gaue me, or confesse himselfe vanquished, and to rest at my commaund, I will finish his boldnesse, by [Page] honour of my Sworde, say you what you can, and hee what he dare. Trust me Sir (answered the knight) if you will not grant to such a small request, as shall both extoll your Fame, and ma­nifest your friendship, I shall be enforced to enter Combate with you, which I am very loath to doo, considering your pre­sent estate, in so much as I would not be hée that should depriue you of your life.

Good Syr (quoth the knight of the Sauadge man) this care in you is more then I haue deserued, or desire you should vse vnto me: wherefore hereupon assure your selfe, I am as able to deale with you, as they haue found me indifferent to conquere them. At these words, the knight (whom this noble Victor held in sub­iection) fell along on the ground, through faintnesse of much blood that had issued from him, as also the grieuous wounds, hee had so vnhappily sustained. Which made this other knight to assaile the knight of the Sauadge man very rigorously, in hope to haue reuenged his friends hurt, with the detriment of his noble Ene­mies life, but he found the knight of the Sauadge man so great of strength, and so greatly affected to a farther Victorie, that hee partly repented himselfe for entring such hazard. Yet did he be­haue himselfe with greater courage then the other knightes, which made him endure Combat a longer time.

It chaunced the King of England, to come on Hunting into this Forrest, where espying these two knights so eager at their fight, and commending both their expertnes, and braue behaui­our, he entred betwéene them, vsing great intreatie to leaue off their Combate, which they presently did, for that they would not disobey the kings request, whom they knew, and were very glad to sée. The knight of the Sauadge man, lifting vp his Beuer, came and presented himself to the King, who perceiuing him to be the knight, was nourished in his Court, as also the man hee had greatest delight in, receyued him very graciously, in signe whtreof, he suffered him to kisse his hand.

When the King had knowledge, that the other Knight was Gracian, sonne to the noble Arnedes King of France, he aligh­ted from his Horse, imbracing the Prince very louingly, and desiring him to shewe the occasion of their discord, as also what [Page] the other Knights were, that lay on the ground. The Prince Gracian, after he had done his dutie to the King, and to the No­ble companie, that then were there present beganne as thus.

If it shall like your Maiesty, the knight that lieth hithermost, and is nearest to your Grace, is named Francian, Sonne to the famous Polendos, king of Thessaly, In whose company, to mine owne honour, and eyther of our contents, I trauelled from the Citie of Constantinople, through many places where we haue approoued our Knighthoode, and made manifest such déedes of Armes, as our yeares and skill would suffer vs,

To this place wee were conducted by a Damosel, who repor­ted her selfe to bee Syster to the other Knight that lyeth on the ground: the gaue vs to vnderstand, that this knight (meaning the knight of the Sauadge man) had cruelly slaine her Father, and did his endeuour to kill her Brother likewise: wherefore she desired vs to stande her Rescue, and to deliuer her foorth of such griefe, as shee might conceiue by his death. Francian per­ceyuing her Brother in such estate, as hee could not awarde the heauie blowes this Knight charged him withall, entred be­twéene them: and in like manner was brought to as lowe e­state himselfe. Yea, and I perswade my selfe, had not your Grace come to ende the strife, my selfe had bene partner of their hard mishap.

The knight of the Sauadge man, hearing what the Prince Gracian had saide, began in this order to discourse how it hap­pened. My grations Soueraigne, the Damosell of whom this Knight hath spoken, came Ryding towardes mee, her haire dis­pearsed on her shoulders, her Face all blubbered with teares, her Garmentes torne, and very much polluted: all the way as she came, crying how that this knight (whome she after named to be her Brother) did séeke to dishonour her, and therefore desi­red mee to defend her in so great extremitie. When I had ioy­ned Combat with the Knight, soone after she came againe, and brought these two knight, reporting to them, as hee hath infor­med your Maiestie: so leaning vs in this strife, she departed, we know not whither. The King well noting the deceyte of the Damosell, which was onely to séeke the ruine of those Noble [Page] knights, caused the Helmet of Francian, and of the other knight, to be taken off, when féeling the ayre, they came to themselues againe, sauing that their wounds made them very féeble. Then was the other Knight known to be Polinard, son to the Em­peror Trineus: when presently the King caused Francian and Polinard, to bée conueyed in a Chariot to the Citie of London. And by the way, the King questioned with Polinard, for what cause be pursued the Domosel, when this noble knight tooke in hand to defēd her? By your gracious leaue (answered Polinard) I thinke shée was the most wicked, and deceitfullest Damosell on the earth, for through her perswasion, Onistalde and Dra­misian my friends, were brought into such ignorance, and such credite of her, that they entred Combat, and had almost slaine one another, had not I arriued at their fight, when they were hardly to be iudged, if there were any recouery for their health. At my request they ended their strife, and rode together I know not well which way, nor if they be aliue as yet: but I followed the Damosel, to know the occasion why my brethren were fal­len to so great debate, whē this knight came and preuented me as your Grace hath heard.

The King was greatly displeased at this misaduenture, and sent presently about, to heare tydings of Onistalde & Dra­misian, that if their bodies were found dead, they might be in­terred according to the nobilitie of their birth. But they were found liuing, and by the king sent to the Monasterie of Cleare Victory: where they were carefully cherished, by the brethren of that Religion, which was first found by Amadis de Gaule, néere vnto Fenrisse, & thither were his bones carried after his death, from the great Brittaine, to witnesse the victory hee had got of the Kings in that place.

The king caused a great many of knights to pursue after the Damosell, but their labour was in vaine, for her Mistresse Eu­tropa who sent her, kept her safe enough from them.

When the King was come to the Court, hée caused the Princes to bée so prouided for, as they recouered againe their health in short time: and the knight of the Sauage man lying in his accustomed Chamber, was diligently looked vnto by [Page] the Princesse Flerida, and the King would often visite him, be­cause his minde did stil vse perswasion with him, that he should be somewhat allyed to him in kindred. To be resolued whereof, he would intreate the Princesse, and he himselfe would often question with him, to make knowne vnto them what he was, or of whence he iudged himselfe to descend: but he would neuer by any meanes satisfie their request, because indéed, he could not gaine any knowledge of himselfe.

CHAP. XXXV.
How the Sage Aliert brought the bodies of Fl [...]raman, Platir, Pompides, and Blandidon, in a Chariot to his Castle, where he healed their wounds, and set them againe in the place where they fought their Combat, which made them know one another, and ioyne together like friends. And how a Damosell came & talked with them, and gaue them Horses and Armour, with foure Esquires to attend on them, so they all departed with the Damosell, to finish an aduenture, which made her liue in great sorrow. And how the knight of Fortune, departing frō the Castle of the Sage Aliart, happened to lodge in the house of an ancient Gen­tleman neare London, where a Damosel came to intreate him of an aduenture hee should take in hand, on her be­halfe, against the noble knight of the Sauage man.

SAge Aliart, of the Obscure Valley (as the Historie declareth) caused the bodies of Pla­tir and the other knights, to be brought in a Chariot to his Castle, where separating them in sundry chambers, [...]ee vsed such great care and diligence for re [...]ring their health, that in short time they had escaped [Page] the point of danger, and were in as good constitution of body as they had beene before. For this occasion vrged him to vse more circumspection to them, that if their liues had failed thorow misaduenture, then had not onely their noble kindred béene op­pressed with griefe, but also their Dominions remained desti­tute of their chiefe defence. For which cause he had thus proui­ded for them, albeit out of their knowledge, whence such friend­ship should procéede: neither how they left the place of their Combate, and were brought into so strong a Castell.

Platir and Floraman, were at last lodged in one Chamber: in like manner were Pompides and Blandidon, where they no lesse maruelled at their sudden recouerie of health, then at the Princely attendance was daily vsed to them: but which was more to their griefe, they could gaine no knowledge of their Host, either what he was, or wherefore he vsed such great curtesie vnto them.

The knight of Fortune, (who as yet remained in the Castle of the Sage Aliart) could neuer compasse the meane, to find the Lodgings of these Knights, but was very pensiue, to thinke of their great hurts receiued in the Combate: Neuerthelesse, the perswasion that the Sage Aliart vsed with him, as promising, all should bee safely recured, vrged him to exempt so great a debut. When time serued, according as the Sage Aliart thought conuenient, by force of his charmes, hee cast them in a dead slumber, and brought them to the place where they sought their Combate: where when they awaked, they found the place bestrewed with the Trunchions of their Speares, as also pie­ces of their armour, and the grasse somewhat died with the ef­fusion of their blood,

Euery one well holding himselfe to bee sound of body, in perfection of health, and the place so fresh with their blood, as though it had béene but as then split, fell all ioyntly together in­to a great admiration, and Floraman beganne thus to expresse his maruaile. If I should speake as I thinke, or thinke as I haue occasion, I should bee offensiue to some, and but small to mine owne benefite. In this place I remember we fought our Combate, not to the griefe of one alone, but to the harme of vs [Page] all in generall, and in this place are wée now, in good and per­fect estate, releeued out of a danger, and succoured from so great distresse, wherefore I must needes thinke, the aduentures of this land to be rare: and rare, because I haue not béene accusto­med to the like.

Trust me (quoth the Prince Platir) these two knights were out enemies in the Combate, and inuade vs still, that we might ende our former enterprise: but if so be their intent, they are as vnprouided as we, and neither of vs horse, weapon, or armour, so rescew himselfe from his enemy. These words thus e [...]ded, Floraman came toward the other two Knights, desiring them (if they could) to resolue them of this doubt. We are (answered Pompides) in such an vncertainty our selues, that had not you moued the question when you did, my selfe would haue reque­sted the same of you.

After a litle talke passed betwéene them, they fell into know­ledge of each other, when forgetting their former enmitn, they imbraced one another, and greatly reioyced, that they had so happily met, vnto their seuerall contentation. To breake off their friendly purposes of salutations, they espied a Damosell come riding to wards them, mounted on a bay Palfrey, attired all in blacke, and her countenance bewraying a sad and sorrow­full disposition. When shée was come vnto them, restraining the bridle of her horse, and wel eying them, began at last in this manner.

Gentlemen, it séemeth some such accident hath happened, as hath defeated you of such refuge, as sometime you had, which may séeme strange to you, yet not rare to mée, who know the misaduentures of this Countrey, to the griefe of my friends, and sorrow of my selfe. Faire Lady (said Blandidon) if we should rehearse in what manner our mischance hath happened, we should be ouertedious to you to heare it, and in danger ourselues, while we stand to shew it, wanting our Armour to auoyd what may happen, and being in a place out of our own knowledge. Admit (quoth the Damosell) my selfe would be the meane, to prouide you all of horses and armour againe, would you grant the small request I should put foorth vnto [Page] you? Ladie (aunswered Floraman) respecting our owne néede, and the duetie the owe to any distressed Ladie, hath wrought that in me, and I am sure the like in all my fellowes, (the con­ditions fulfilled) that we will abide the vttermost extremitie for you, and in your defence.

Euery one protesting what Floraman had promised, the Da­mosell departed, returning in short time with foure Esquires, bearing foure very faire and strong armours which foure more that ledde foure goodly coursers, all of one colour and bignesse: when to the Knightes shoe thus beg [...]de. Loe Gentlemen, what your present estate, & my earnest affection hat constrai­ned me to doe, desiring you to make estimation of these giftes, according as you shall finde them in proofe. Giuing her grrat thanks, the esquires armed them all presently, their armor not differing from one another in colour and richnesse, foure shields were like wise deliuered them, the deuiss where you shall vn­derstand hereafter. When they were armed and mounted on horsebacke, the Damosell shewed them, that they must accom­pany her thrée or foure dayes, in which time (through their as­sistance) she should enter her lamentable sorrows, and gréeuous mishaps, giuing them likewise those foure Esquires to serue in stead of them which were departed.

They not denying what the Damosell had requested, rode on with her, where at this time we will leaue them, and return to the knight of Fortune, who passing the time away with y Sage Allart, in remembring his mishappes, his frowards chances in Loue, and all accidences that had happened him in trauaile, de­termined to take his leaue of the Sage Magitian, who would not let him vnderstand his birth and Parentage, for the reason which you shall heare hereafter. But commending vnto him the aduentures of great Brittaine, as also what necessitie the good Knights stood in for want of his helpe: and arming Siliuian with an armour, much like that which his Maister had alwais worn, they imbraced to together very curtuously, and so depart the Sage Aliart promising him to be in all places where he should stand destitute of his helpe, and would assist him against all misfortunes.

[Page] So rode the knight of Fortune, towards the anciēt and famous Cittie of London, desirous to sée the English Courte, the Fame whereof was blazed through the whole world. After thrée dayes trauell, he arriued at the house of an ancient Gentleman, which was not farre from London, and there he reposed for that night, conceyuing great pleasure to conferre with his Hoast (who lo­ued to entertaine all wandring knights) about the estate of that Countrey, with the noble aduentures in olde time passed, as al­so at that present in great Brittaine. After Supper, they came and sate in the Porch of the House, where at last they sawe en­ding the gate, a Damosell accompanied with a young Gentle­man: who requested of the Gentleman of that place, to haue a Lodging there for that night. The Gentleman, whose custome was to entertaine Straungers, commanded her a Chamber, with such prouision as she should stand in néede of. Shée giuing thanks to her friendly Host, for his so great courtesie, came and sate down by the Gentleman of the House, which the knight of Fortune perceiuing, remooued his stoole, and sat down by her: and among other talke, requested of her, for what occasion shee was so pensiue and heauie, which was great griefe to him to be­holde, as for her to abyde.

The Damosell taking occasion to behold him, and espying the shield of Fortune, so much esteemed and famed through all coun­treyes, cast her selfe downe at his feete, and in teares began this sorrowfull discourse. I perceiue the anger of Fortune, satisfied with the former iniuries, that shee hath executed on my poore selfe, will at this instaunt chaunge her rigour, and fauour her that hath bene altogether infortunate, in that I haue found the Knight, who not onely can, but (as I hope) will ende my mise­ries by his knightly Valour. So it is (worthy Syr) that some­time I had a Sonne, ingenious in euery exercise, but chiefely well nurtured in Martiall affaires: and had his fortune agréed with his towardly behauiour, then had I bin a Matrone of ioy, where now I am the Mother of Misfortune. It so chaunced, this my Sonne to growe amorous of a young Beautifull Da­mosell, who had retained in fauour an other Knight, before my Sonne was admitted her Seruant: but such was her affection [Page] toward my Sonne, that her loue to the first Suter died with cold, and she estéemed him as worthy of her good will.

This perceiued in the sight of all, was not his from the Knight, who began greatly to stomacke it, and finding oportu­nity fit for his purpose, assayled violently my Sonne, who (notwithstanding the danger on both sides) brought his enemy into hazard of his life, and himselfe the better into his Ladies li­king. When time had admitted this conquerer into better e­state, that his wounds were healed, and his strength conquered (not forgetting the repulse he sustained by my Sonne, as also the earnest loue he bare to the Damosell,) hee returned with a knight attyred in gréene Armour, bearing in his shield the Por­trait of a Sauage man, leading in his hand a couple of Lions, who séeking reuenge on the other knights behalfe, my Sonne tooke the courage to enter Combate with him. But such was the spite of Fortune, and so great her malice against mee, that my Sonne was brought in subiection to this strange Knight, who not contented with the victory, cruelly cut off his head, and gaue it to his mortall enemy. Thus considering the great in­iury that the Knight had wrought mée, and that none will doe me that fauour to reuenge my vntimely losse, I determined not to leaue my trauaile, till I had found you, who bearing the name of the Knight of Fortune, (renowned in all Countreyes, that hath either séene or heard of you) can compell my enemy to confesse his fault, and giue him the reward that belongeth to so great discourtesie.

Wherefore most worthy Syr, at which words he staied her thus. Faire Lady, the extreame griefe of your inward thoughts witnessed by the aboundance of teares the bedewe your rosi­chéekes, constraineth me to belieue what you haue saide, and to beare a part with you of accustomed heauinesse. Wherefore, considering your wrong, and the great vngentlenesse of the Knight of the Sauage man, if my Fortune may bee so good to méet him, I will reuenge your iniury with his death, or leaue my own life for a pawne with him. And the rather am I vrged to deale with this Knight, for that there remaineth a contro­uersie betwéene him and mée, as yet vnfinished, and now your [Page] mishap shall giue me good occasion, to recompence him for both together, if I knew certaine in what place to finde him. Truly sir (quoth the Damosell) I left him at the cittie of London, where his valour is held in such estimation, as is more then I can speake, whereof I iudge him not a little proude.

The knight of Fortune, perceiuing the earnest desire of the Damosell, to be reuenged on him, whom he would as gladly finde, promised her to sens him defiance on the next morning by his Esquire, and that he would be as diligent on her behalfe as she was desirous to haue it dispatched: to which words the Damosell replyed. I can now sufficiently iustifie what I haue often heard, that your care hath bene so great to the welfare of Ladies, as that Fortune hath the better prospered all your af­faires, and in so much I can iudge it the more to others, by how much I finde such great curtesie my selfe, which if I die before I deserue, let yet your gentle nature afford me a good opinion, for that all my life time, shall be spent in the honour of your name.

The ancient Gentleman, vnderstanding that his guest was the Noble knight of Fortune, esteemed his good luck more then he could any way disclose: wherefore he desired pardon, that he had not vsed him according as his famous report deserued: and that his ignorance might serue to excuse any fault committed. And the rather he vsed the lesse suspition toward him, because he had entertained so many noble and valiant Gentlemen: a­mong whom (as he was well worthy) he gaue great commen­dation to the knight of the Sauage man, as he had heard of ma­ny, and partly had séene himselfe.

Which good report, incited, and greatly moued the knight of Fortune, to vse the more diligence in finding him: in which de­sire, as time serued, they brake company, and departed to their lodgings. This couragious knight sustaining small rest in his [...] the cleare morning appeared, arose, and armed him with all spéed, taking his leaue of his Host and the Damosell, departing towards London accōpanied with Siluian. And dra­wing somewhat neare the Citie, he tooke a great pleasure to behold the braue Towers and strong Edifies, which by the [Page] shining of the Sunne, gaue great contentation to his minde, and vrged him to aligh [...], because he would take good view ther­of: vsing much talke with Siluian, as concerning the great fame of that ancient Cittie. So long he stayed there, till he supposed the aged King to be risen, when he rode into the cittie, where both the brauery of the place, and the remembrance of the fa­mous Exployts, there begun and finished, prouoked him to some hautie attempt, that might enrowle his name among the number of those, that were held in high estimation, For that the report of noble déeds doth vrge the minde of the couragious to be equall with those, who beare most commendation of their approued valiancie.

CHAP. XXXVI.
How the Knight of Fortune arriuing at London, passed away the time with an ancient Hermit, in seeing the monuments and Funerals of many noble persons: vntill he had sent Sil­uian to the English Court, where, in the presence of the King, he declared his Maisters challenge to the knight of the Sauage man, which he willingly accepted, albeit the king would hardly, agree vnto it. And how they endured the Combate so long, that the king accompanyed with the Princesse Fl [...]rida, were faine to come▪ and intreate them to leaue off their enterprise, at whose request, they both gaue consent, neither of them giuing the victorie of the other.

[Page] MAny were the gréeuous cogitations, that passed the mind of the knight of Fortune, while he was entred the famous citie of London, as well for the vngentle dealing of his Lady Polynarda, as also sundry other conceits that he had occasion to thinke on. At last, remembring he might not be licen­ced the combate till after Dinner, he withdrew himselfe to an Hermitage, where after he had heard seruice, he was desirous to sée the ancient monuments that were in the Chappel, which for the most part were ruinated, yet some of them remained in good estate of their beautie. Among all the things that were there to be séene, the knight of Fortune behld an ancient Se­pulchre, which was cunningly framed in workmanship, albeit long continuance of time, had both wasted and dimmed the workes and figures thereof, so that one could hardly reade what was engrauen about it, sauing at the one end was per­ceiued the name of Arbam of Norgalles, who was buried whē King Lisuart ruled the the crowne of England. Vpon the sight of this ancient monument, he questioned with the hermit, if in time past the ancient Sepulchre had not contained a much lar­ger quantity, to which demand, the Hermite thus answered. Good Sir, when first I came to inhabite this place, which by computatiō of time, I gesse to be about 34. yéers since, I found this ancient Sepulchre in the same estate you now behold it. But as I haue heard of many, and therefore may be hold to re­port it, when the Infidels did inuade this Land, they did rui­nate and spoyle this Tombe aboue all the rest. Not sparing these other by it, as you may perceiue, wherein are inferred Don Grumedan, and Don Cuillan the Pensiue, beside other personages of no lesse nobilitie then knightly behauiour.

The Hermits talke, vrged him to remember the discourse of the life of this noble Don Guillan, comparing his haplesse life, with his heauy estate, which was in like manner procured, [Page] as his Lady Polynarda, was the original of his sorowful mour­ning. At this remembrance, falling into a great agony of mind he was constrained to leane on the irons that compassed this auncient Sepulchre, vttering such rufull complaints within himselfe, as the gréefe thereof caused the teares to run down his chéekes.

Standing a great while as it were in amaze, the Hermite supposed he occupyed his mind about some euill intent, but Sri­uian stepped vnto him, declaring that it was his wont to be of­ten incumbred with Melancholy, and therefore willed him to vse no more doubt in this matter. At length he hapned forth of this mute study, turning his head to hide his extreame griefe, when Siluian went vnto him, desiring he would noc forget his enterprise, with the knight of the Sauage man, and to leaue [...]ch thoughts, as would draw his estate into such debility, as might greatly hinder his former determination. With these words he was somewhat displeased, saying: I more doubt of that which my late studying hath called into remembrance, thē either the feare or force my enemy can vse to me. So taking his leaue of the Hermit, he rode toward the Citty where he met the Gentleman his Host, and the Damosell, on whose be­halfe he had enterprised the Combate, then because he would not enter the Citty as yet, he sent Siluian to the Court, to ma­nifest before the King his Maisters challenge, and to vse great circumspection, what answer the King returned.

Siluian well noting his Maisters commandement departed and in short time arriued at the Pallace, where going vp into the great Hall, he perceiued the King was newly risen from Diuner, walking with his knights, among whom was the knight of the Sauage man, being well and perfectly cured of the wounds he had receiued, when he fought against Gracian, Francian and Polynarda, who were there also in his company. Siluian came into the presence of the king, where on his knée, with such duty as is required in that respect, he began as fol­loweth. Most puissant Prince, the knight of Fortune my noble Lord and Master, by me in humility of his owne person yéeldeth the homage of his heart and knightly Sword, at your [Page] Graces command. Such was his intent, as in your Courts he bowed to make proofe of his seruice, but Fortune not so agrée­ing, in stead of aquiet entry (vnder your Graces leaue) he mea­neth to come by way of a challenge. For as he trauailed, he met a Ladie, whose cause of misfortune, shée doeth attribute to the Knight of the Sauage man, and my Lord taking her distressed case in hand, by me giueth challenge to him of Combat, to méet him if he dare, so that your Grace will allowe my Lord a safe entrance and returns, without the disturbance of any to hin­der his determination, the Knight of the Sauage man onely ex­cepted. The king who had heard the fame of the knight of For­tune, to be such as was extolled in all Princes Courts, was ve­ry sory that his arriuall should moue such a request, and would willingly haue denied the Combate, but that the Knight of the Sauage man came before his Maiestie, and vsed these words. My gracious Soueraigne, the Knight of Fortune is of such re­putation, as neither may your Grace denie his request, nor my selfe refuse to enter Combate with him. And albeit his puissāce hath vrged him to a Challenge, and the aduantage gotten in o­ther countries, maketh him the more earnest to haue his déedes knowne here: yet can neither his gréeting dismay my courage, nor his presence compell me to leaue the fielde. Wherefore, I desire your Grace to grant his request, that he may haue liber­tie of the Iust, according as hée ought: otherwise will I goe to him, as well to satisfie his desire, as to compasse the affection I haue of my selfe.

The King séeing all excuses would not serue to hinder this matter, but that the Knight of the Sauage man would néedes take on him the fight, returned Siluian with this answere. My Friend, tell thy Lord, I am both pleased, and offended at his re­quest yet séeing his demand standeth with law of armes, which I can no way iustly denie, I graunt him free leaue, without contradiction of any. But better would I haue iudged of him, had his challenge béene to any other Knight, where being as it is, he will not so lightly escape, as perhaps hee maketh account of.

With this message Siluian returned to his Maister, who ha­uing [Page] heard the pleasure of the king, came prnsently to the place appointed for the combat, where the king with the Quéen, and the Princesse Flerida, with all the nobility, were ready placed, to behold this noble attempt. The Citizens likewise repaired thither to see this combate, which was so suddenly noysed a­broade, so that the place was filled with abundance of people. The knight of Fortune entred, and made his obeysance to the king, and passed by, then came the knight of the Sauage man, accompanied with many knights & noble gentlemen, among which company was Argolant who brought him his speare, & Don Rosiran de la Bronde deliuerd him his shéeld, so marching on by the king they left him, vsing this talke with the knight of Fortune. I know not sir knight, what should be the cause of your so great challenge, without it be to iniurie him that neuer offended you. Sir (answered the knight of Fortune) behold the Ladie here present, to whom you haue offered no small abuse, which I will sée you recompence, or constraine you to abide the doome of my mercy. Trust me sir (quoth the knight of the Sa­uage man) the Lady is altogether vnknowne of me, neyther haue I offended her, or any body beside, that I should deserue to be thus vngently accused: but I sée the good opinion you haue of your owne manhood, causeth you to be so earnest in this mat­ter, which I will not denym, albeit I could, yet giue no spot to my honour. So departing themselues to fetch their caréere at the sound of the Trumpetst, hey met brauely together, break­ing halfe a dozen Staues a péece, yet neither able to stirre the other. When they saw they could not dismount one another, they tooke their swords and charged each other with such polli­tique behauiour in their fight, that it was maruellous to heare, what commendations were generally giuen.

When they had well wearied themselues on Horsebacke, they alighted, and endeuored to endanger each other with such rigorous blowes, that it was thought the Combat would not long last, ere one of them were slaine. For their shéelds were shiuered all in péeces, their Armour so broken, that the blood trickled downe their sides, then fell they to wrastling one with another, their gripes made the blood to issue foorth aboun­dantly, [Page] yet neither had the aduantage of the other in strength, but both so equall, that it could not be iudged, who was likest of victorie. The Princesse Flerida gréeuing at their great effu­sion of blood, departed in such heauinesse, as if she had known it to be the blood of her sonnes, that was so cruelly spilt. The king with all his Courtly attendaunts was stroken into such a maze, when he saw them take their swords againe, that he thought the flower of all Chiualrie was there present before him, and was in great heauinesso, for that they would not giue ouer by no meanes.

The knight of the Sauage man séeing himselfe destitute of Sword, sheeld, and Armour, began somewhat to feare, that his life would stand in great hazard, but yet he contented him­selfe, that if as then his death were ordained, he should sustaine the lesse reproch, in that a knight of, such honour had giuen him the ouerthrow, wherefore at a pause, he thus began. Why should I discourage my selfe at the death, séeing I shall depart in the flower and prime of mine age, and end my dayes at his hande, who is onely estéemed for good Fortune? Yet the oath I haue made to the Princesse Flerida, with the great duty I find in my selfe, as her desert, constrains mée to wish a longer time if it might be, as well to exalt her honour, as to trie the aduen­ture which hath endamaged so many good knights, whereto I did euer bend mine affection, as the onely enterprise in all my life to win me renowne. But séeing I am falne into so great mishap, as both Fortune doth deny me, and mine owne man­hood faile me, I will yet so behaue my selfe vpon mine enemy, as when he hath woon the vttermost, he shall not boast of his Conquest, and such a writ will I deliuer him to seale, as I hope shall craue no other signet but his heart blood.

In like manner the knight of Fortune stood debating with himselfe, as well vpon his present danger, as also his passed dollour, not forgetting his Ladie and Mistresse Polinarda, to whom, as had she bene present, he began this complaint. Ma­dame, behold now the time wherein your anger doth kill me, and your fauour reuiue me, which except you will beare the cruell mind to worke my Tragedy, restore in wonted clemen­cie [Page] the encouragement of my haplesse labours, which since it lyeth in your handes, cast a friendly looke on the man, that in all extremities is none but yours onely. If you deny me this small request, neither shall I aduenture the enterprises of great Brit­taine, nor doe that honour to you, which my heart hath euer de­sired, so shall the flower of Chiualrie remaine in their great misfortune, and you through your obstinacie accounted the losse of them all. This knight hath put mee in more danger then euer did any, yet neither of vs both enioyeth the Conquest: and if the infortunate death returne to my share, I shall thinke my selfe honourably failed at his handes, but my poore heart cruelly martyred through your hard dealing.

Then fell they to the Combate againe, not able to charge one another so fiercely as at the first, yet labouring earnestly to end their strife one way or other, which mooued the king to discend, accompanied with his Knights, and fearing the losse of theyr liues, sought to set them at vnitie. But such was their desire of victorie, and so couragious their mindes in middest of most doubt, that the King was faine to returne, because they would giue no eare to his perswasion, Then went hee to the Chamber of the Princesse Flerida, where in this manner he be­gan to vse his spéech. Fayre Daughter, if my noble Sonne Don Edward your Lord be liuing, and that he may be deliue­red by the valour of any earthly creature, I perswade my selfe, that one of these Knights shall be the meane to relieue his ad­uerse estate. But if in this Combate, as I greatly feare, they shall ende their liues vpon this hautie attempt, then farewell all hope that I euer reposed, for both you shall lose him, and my selfe shall euer lacke him, where, by them I might (assure my selfe) both to heare of my Sonne, and enioy him in my Court, in his woonted estate againe. Wherefore, if you beare such loue to him, as you haue alway protested, and fauour me in this my earnest desire, vouchsafe the paines to walke vnto them, for that one word of of your mouth wil enfore them leaue the com­bate, so shall you possesse what you haue long wished, and I be honoured in so great a courtesie. The Princesse, who since the absence of her Lord had seldome come abroad, but alway kept [Page] her Chamber in her wonted lamentations, at the request of the aged king came walking downe with him, and foure Damo­sels attired all in blacke attending on her, her selfe apparrelled in the same manner: sauing that the vaile on her head shado­wed all her face, so that none could haue full view to behold her beautie.

When she was entred the place of the Iust, to the great a­mazement of all that were present, she came to the Knight of Fortune, and tooke him by the arme, with these words. Sir knight, if either you make account of the honour of Ladies, or will manifest in your déedes that you owe them any duty, then at my request I intreate you to leaue off the Combate, as well to auoyd the hazard of your liues, as to content this noble com­pany, who are satisfied with your famous exployts.

The knight of Fortune wel eying the Princesse, and percei­uing her to resemble the countenance of his faire Polinarda, he humbled himselfe on his knée, with these words. Faire Lady, my desire hath bene greatly bent to end this Combate, and to render this Knight the victory, as he hath well deserued, but séeing you haue charged me with such a curteous command, I rather desire the death, then to yéeld any deny all.

Sir (quoth the knight of the Sauage man) if I should report the estimation I haue of your knighthood, with the forceable charges I haue receiued at your hands, I might say that iust­ly, which you haue rightly deserued, you are the onely knight to whom I will grant my Conquest. But séeing you haue made grant to her, whom in duty I must alway reuence, and that her intreaty hath moued you to end our debate, if I should con­trary what she and you haue appointed, I might worthily be reproched among all knights, much more disped among faire Ladyes.

The Princes was so well pleased with this good agréement, that giuing each of them harty thanks, she returned to her Chamber, and the King not a little pleased at this good euent, commanded the knights should bée brought into his Pallace, where such respect should be vsed to them, that in short time they might recouer their former good health. But the Knight [Page] of Fortune would not accept the knights offer at that time, but departed with the Gentleman his Host to his house againe, whether being carefully brought in a Chariot, such prouision was ordained for him, that by the helpe of the Gentlemans Daughter, who was maruailous expert in the Arte of Medi­cine, his weake estate was relieued into indifferent good plight. Then was the Damosell sought for, who was the cause of this Combate, but answere was made, that so soone as they had en­tred the fight, she secretly shrunke away thorow the preace, so that they could gaine no knowledge of her.

The knight of the Sauage man was conducted to his Cham­ber, where hée had such great attendance in the curing of his wounds, as by any meanes they could deuise, what might best serue for remedy. For neuer were his hurts so dangerous, as those that he had receiued at this Combate, nor his life in grea­ter hazard, then it was at this present, which made the Prin­cesse so diligent about him, that she enterprised as much as the simplest, that had any occasion to trauaile for his health.

The King was greatly displeased, that the knight of Fortune would not vouchsafe the lodging in his Pallace, where we will leaue awhile the two vnknowen brothers, till they haue attai­ned their health, that thē we may haue more occasion to speake of them. And loth were I to be forgetfull of the Knights of the Court of Constantinople, who assembled themselues in tra­naile in the Forrest of great Brittaine, trusting to the tickle dea­lings of fléering Fortune. Who if she fauored them a day, frow­ned on them againe for a months space after, and when they thought themselues in surest estate of good, hap, then were they néerest to their owne destruction.

CHAP. XXXVIII.
How Eutropa the Enchantresse, who had sent this Damosell, that procured the Combate betweene the Knight of For­tune, and the knight of the Sauage man, caused al the Gre­cian Knights to come before her Castle, where they seue­red themselues in maner of two Armies. And how she sent two Damosels more, who (by their faigned reports) set such a discord betweene both parties, that they prepared themselues to a dangerour Battaile.

EVtropa the enchantresse, and Aunt to the Giant Dramusiande, seeing her Castele stored with good Knights, and fearing the time drewe nie to preuent her wicked pur­pose, she sought to set such discord among the Knights that were lately arriued in England, as they should without know­ledge spoile the liues of each other. For to this ende and pur­pose she framed her intent, that if she could execute her will on the couragious Knights, who endeuoured themselues in the search of the strayed Princes, she would set such strife and en­mitie thorow all Christendome, that the Paganes should rui­nate and spoile all the Dominions, and be Lords ouer the king­doms and Countreys.

And the better to bring her deuises to passe, shee sent Da­mosels continually abroad, through the circute of great Brit­taine, to set strife and discention betwéene all the trauayling Knights, and the Damoselles were so diligent in theyr Mi­stresse commaund, that they daily brought many good Knights into hazard and danger, as you haue partly heard, and shall doe hereafter.

[Page] One of these Damosels was the occasion of the Combate, betwéene Polinarda and Knight of the Sauage man, the very same Damosell brought the Horse and Armour, to the Prince Platir, and his companions. She also set the strife betwéen the Knight of Fortune, and the Knight of the Sauage man, for this Damosell had teares at her commaund, and such subtill reports for the auaile of her Mistresse, that shée was onely beloued and estéemed with Eutropa, yea, shee referred the whole substance of her practise, to the deceitfull reports of the Damosell.

The Knights that were lately come from Constantinople, and remained a while for their pleasure in the English Court, were enforced by these craftie meanes to take their departure, and to séeke the aduentures that were in great Brittaine.

So when the Combate was ended, betwéene the knight of Fortune, and the Knight of the Sauage man, they disguised their Armour, changed the deuises of theyr Shieldes, least they should be knowen, and put themselues in trauayle, which way they were inforced, to finde the Castle of the Giant Dramu­siande.

Eutropa had brought all the knights into the field where the Castle stoode, seuering them in two companies, and a Riuer running betwéene them, where their Tents were pitched, and such prouision appointed, as thogh they had determined to fight a maine Battaile. On the one side was the Prince Gracian, Onistalde, Dramain, Francian, Polinard, Tremoran, Claribal, and Emeralde the Faire, on the other side was the Prince Be­rolde, Dridan, Belizart, Guerin, Estrellant, Germaine of Or­leance, Platir, Floraman, Blandidon, and Crispian, with di­uers other. And both the sides brought into such estate, that they neither could tell what the other were, nor by what meanes they were brought into that place. At last foorth of the Castle came two Damosels, the one accompanied like a persō of great grauitie, the other hauing no body with her, but a yong Gentle­man that was her guide, who presently went to the Pauillions next the Castle, and the other to the Prince Gracian and his company, that were on the further side of the Riuer.

After she was come into the presence of the Princes, & very [Page] gently and courteously entertained, preparing her selfe to a de­ceitfull course, and intermedling her talke with teares, shée beganne in this manner. Sir knights, the crown of your noble déedes, and continuall Fame of your well imployed Knight-héed, is sufficient to irritate your vsurping enemies, and to confound all such as swell against honourable duety, so that their owne drifts shall prepare their iust destruction, and their euill deuices runne into contempt of the whole world. As con­cerning the presumption I haue vsed in my rash entry, with the bold behauiour you may perceiue, to my reproch, I shall desire you, first to consider the extremity of my griefe, and then to pardon my enterprise, when you are priuy to my Passions This auncient Castell which you may here behold, doth be­long to me that haue liued in it, both a heauy and happy time, in that in times past, I haue béene better acquainted with plea­sant conceyts, then for a long time I could enioy the like tran­quility, as they to whom my misfortunes are very well knowē, can witnesse the great alteration of my former estate. For For­tune among all the liberall benefits she had bestowed on me, as wealth to maintaine me, and a quiet gouernment to protect me, gaue me a Daughter, so perfect in beauty, so pure in modesty, so precise of her personage, and so exquisite in her vsuall behauiour, that many noble Gentlemen haue put their liues in hazard, to deserue her good liking, that was liked of all.

Great hath bin the intreaty of many Honorable personages, to haue her in mariage, which I haue alwaies denied, till now, making choyse of one aboue all the other, I haue agréed to ac­complish his importunate desire.

This being knowne to a knight, who had long time béene a Suter, yet neuer so fortunate as to gaine his intent, now pre­sumeth vpon his strength to take her from me perforce, & to in­iure him that hath obtained my consent to espouse her. In signe wherof (pointing to the Pauillions of the other knight, on the farder side of the riuer) behold where he hath placed his Tents to inuade my Castle, and through the helpe of his friends, pur­poseth to ruinate this mine ancient dwelling, & to vse violence to her, who is betrothed to another. When I considered there [Page] was no meane to remedy the necessity of my case, but eiter to kéepe my Hold, and there be famished, or yéeld me selfe to my foes, and so be dishonoured: I sent one of my Damosels to the English Court, at whose request you are here arriued in this place, where you may behold my vsurping enemy, and the great danger I stand in of the hard award of fortune. And once more haue I sent by way of intreaty, to will them breake vp their siege, and not to trouble me for her whom they cannot haue, though they vse neuer such violence. But such is the great mal­lice of this knight, and his intent linked to such an extreme pur­pose, that neither gentlenesse may intreate him, nor faire de­meanour serue to perswade him. Wherfore noble Gentlemen, as you respect the honour of an oppressed Virgin, and the oath that your knighthood hath auouched in this behalfe, stand now her friend who is voyd of all defence, and maintaine her cause, which is both for your renowne, and her good fame for euer.

She hauing thus ended her coined protestation, they stood de­bating with themselues what answer they ought to make her­at last, the prince Gracian (they hauing referred all to his dispo­sition) tooke the Damosell by the hand, and thus shaped his an­swer. Faire Lady, since this honorable company haue appoin­ted me (vn worthy) to answer on their behalfe, and that we are perswaded you would not informe vs of any misreport: thus I dare awareant for them all, that you shall finde them as ready to defend you, as your enemy dare presume any way to molest you. The Damosell hearing the answer of the Prince Gracian to be such as serued fit for her purpose, gaue thē all hartg thanks and calling▪ her teares againe into remembraunce vrged the knights to such pittie, that they greatly desired to enter Com­bate with the other company. Then returned the Damosell, that had beene with the other knights (informing them like­wise of such a false report:) when being entred the Pauillion, to the Damosel (with curtesie) she gaue forth these spéeches. Ma­the enemy to your honour, and friend to his owne damage, wil not be perswaded, but will follow his enterprise: and in derision scoffeth at this noble assembly reporting them to be so weake, that they dare not shew themselues.

[Page] These words vrged Onistalde vnto such anger, that he pre­sently brake forth into these spéeches: I beléeue, that had they tryed those whom they haue aduentured to dare, they should finde the chastisement of their peremptory bragges, to be aun­swerable in effect, as they haue iustly deserued. Tush (quoth Po­linarda) it is easie for our enemy to talke his pleasure, but when he shall find his trechery, rewarded with due recompence, hee will wish he had vsed himselfe more fréendely to this Ladie, whom he hath so greatly iniuryed. Then Francian was desi­rous to send them defiance, which the Damosell would not suffer, lest her dealings should be espyed, but to worke the su­rer in her deceite, she sent the other Damosell once more, to will them to depart presently, whereto if they made denyall, that she should summon them in armes, to prepare for the fight. In maane while she was gone on her message, this other craf­tie Gyrle, vsed such familiaritie with the Prince Gracian and the other Knights, that their heats were enflamed against them beyond the Riuer. To whom the other Damosell had reported, that the Prince Gracian and his company, did en­deuour themselues to take the Castle from her Mistresse per­force, whereupon shée requested them to defend her Mistresse right, and to cause them know they went about a disloyall en­terprise.

The Prince Floraman hauing well pondered the words of the Damosell, returned her presently this aunswer. Albeit out duettie is to defend any distressed person, and so gainsay the mishap of any iniuried Lady, yet reason willeth vs, ere we pre­sume too hastily, to be acquai [...]ted with the cause, and well ad­uised ere we begin such a rash attempt, else may our enemie iudge, we come more vpon a brauerie, then Knighthood may a­warrant our behauiour, and so runne into danger our selues, for that the rightful cause hath alwaies the victory. Wherfore thus resolue your selfe, wee will first know if your reportes be of trueth or no: least we enter into such defectes, as we may per­happes repent vs. With that the Demosell began to rehearse their promise, at such time as she deliuered them Horses and Armour in their great necessitie, for which cause she desired [Page] then to accomplish their promise, threatning them, that their Nobility might be defaced in denying their words. Trust me (answered Platir) I haue such a good opinion in her dealings, that she would not vse perswasion to vs of an vntroth. Wher­fore tell vs faire Lady, doth your enemy still remaine resolute in his determination? albeit my Companions deny to ayd you as they haue auouched, yet will I abide by you to the death, in what I haue promised.

Then the Prince Berolde coming to the Damosel, began as thus. Can we (faire Lady) sée you in such great hazard, and not Imploy our selues to giue you succour? No, assure your selfe, for mine owne part, and so I dare auouch for the rest of my com­pany, that we will pawne the blood of our hearts, ere we will sée you remaine in such a heauinesse. The Damosel, at these words returned to the Prince Gracian, certifying them of their willingnesse to the fight, and not long she stayd, but re­turned to them againe, her face all be sprent with teares, which was chéefe vaile to couer her treason, and thus she spake.

Now Gentlemen, your quarrel is of more force then before, for they ha [...]ing my Lady and Mistres in their hold, haue vowed not to let her depart, without she will render to them her castle. And moreouer, they send you word by way of defiance, that they are so ready to deale with you, as they iudge you dare not come forth to them, either to defend the cause of my Lady, or to make proofe of your loyaltie.

This report prouoketh such an earnest desire in the knights that they mounted on Horseback, and beganne to shew them­selues in the field, vsing such behauiour with their often re­courses, that the other knights could enioy no rest, till they were likewise prepared. For such was the enuious dealings of Eutropa, that in this fight, she set the Sonne against the Father, one Brother against another, and the dearest fréend to be enemies one to another: and to sée how furiously they behaued themselues (not knowing them they fought against) would haue made one iudge, there was no other meanes but present death. Such was the force of her diuellish deuises, in the Treasonable attempts the Damosell vndertooke, that [Page] neiter ciuilitie was regarded, nor their owne safetie at this time respected.

CHAP. XXXVIII.
How after the Damosels had ended their subtle perswasions the knights ioyned themselues together, to a dangerou [...] and doubtfull fight, wherein they had so sore endamaged one another, that their liues stood in hazard of any reco­uery. And how the Sage Aliart, seeing the intent of Eutro­pa, to worke the vtter spoyle of these couragious knights, came and charmed them in such order, that they quickely left of the battaile. When as the Giant Dramusiande came forth wirh the captiue Princes (who greatly lamented to see their sonnes and kindred in such doubtfull estate) and tooke them all prisoners into his Castle.

NOw that the Damosels had accomplishe [...] the disloyall practise of their Mistresse Eu­tropa, they departed, leauing the knights in readinesse to enter battaile, who had so changed their Armour, and the deuices of their Shéelds, that they had no knowledge of one another. The Prince Gracian was attired in gréene Armour, mingled with spots of white, and a Coate of Maile ouer it of the same colour, in his Shéeld he bare a red Lyon rampaunt, in a field of Sinople. Onistalde had his Armour blacke, whereon in artificiall deuise, was made pretie things, resembling the scales of a fish, and in his shéeld he bare a Gorgons head, his Brother Dramian being armed in the same manner.

[Page] The Armor of Bazilliart was somewhat gréene, very thicke beset with Lyonesses of Gold, bearing in his shield for his de­uise an Eagle. Francian had his Armor resembling litle flames of fire: in his shielde likewise the same order of deuise. Dridan was armed in blacke, bearing in his shield the Tower of Babi­lon. Polinard had his Armour of a sandy colour, whereon was painted many broken Speares in token he had lost the victory, against the noble Floraman, whē he aduentured for the beautie of faire Polinarda, & hauing for his deuise in his shield, a speare broken in the middest. Frisol had his Armour in colour red, be­set with sundry pretie antiques faces of Sable, and in his shield he bare a white Lyon, in a golden field.

Tremoran was attyred in a Carnation coloured Armour, very brauely beset with golden Pellicans, and the deuise in his Shield, was the Image of Sagittarius. Luyman of Burgon­die, and Clariball of Hungaria, had their Armour white, and theyr shieldes alike in deuises. Flauian, and Emeralde the Faire, had their Armour blacke, finely bespotted with red, and in their shieldes the resemblance of a faire Clowde, in a field of siluer.

The Knightes on the other side of the Riuer, were in like manner disguised, giuing shewe to their enemies, of their hau­tie courage and magnanimitie. The Prince Berolde, first ad­uanced himselfe in the field, his Armour blacke, whereon was cunningly besprent the teares of a Louer, and in his Shield, a bléeding heart, rent violently in a number of péeces. Don Ro­suell and Belizart came next him, their Armour of gréene and carnation colour, bearing in their shieldes, the amorous pas­sions of a Louers minde, in a fielde of Azure. Estrellant would not change his Armour, but defaced the deuise of his shield, that he could not be knowen. Trofollant had his Armor gréene, whereon was figured many golden Doues, and in his shielde he bare the Troyan Horse, in a field of Sable. Guerin was in white Armour, bearing in his shielde a Pecocke, in a fielde which resembled the coullour of many Needles. Rotandor, and Crispian of Macedon, were both Armed alike. Ger­mayne of Orleance had his Armour of Azure, bearing in his [Page] Shield a beautifull Damosell, which he kept in remembrance of the fayre Florenda, Daughter to Arnedes King of France, for whose sake he determined to trye the aduentures of great Brittaine. Platir, Floraman, Blandidon, and Pompides, to whom the Damosell of Eutropa, had deliuered Horses and Armour, came forth, their Horses all alike, and their Armour blacke, beset with siluer Swannes, their Helmets very sump­tuously guilded, and adored with rich Pearles, and in their Shieldes their deuises were all alike, which was the smokie Forge and Anuill, of God Vulcan the Smith. Both the com­panies marching forward till they met, where they beheld each other in maruailous great contempt, when taking occasi­on as it serued, they couched their Speares, and encountred to­gether very valiantly. Betwéen them continued such a dange­rous fight, what with the sore hurtes they receiued, as also the great debilitie they were all brought into, that the effusion of their blood, witnessed their earnest desire of victory, and the ad­uerse estates of them all, remained as a patterne of their great perill.

Don Edward, Primaleon, Recinde, Arnedes, Belcar, Vernar, and the Soldan Bellagris, standing with Dramusiande in a window of the Castle, beheld the fierce assaults of these coura­gious Knights, whereto they gaue such commendation, as the most hauty exployt that euer they had séene, which moued Don Edward to say, I haue in times past, not onely séene many a no­table skirmish, but also haue had experience, of the behauiour of many noble knights, yet comparing them past, with this which I now behold, I must néedes say, all the rest hath béene coun­terfeite, and this is onely worthy eternall commendations. Indéede (quoth Primaleon) the aduentures in this place is mer­uailous, which maketh mée to suspend my iudgement of this couragious assembly, but if it bée a naturall fight indéede, and no imagination giuen vnto vs by the practise of Euchantment, I must commend this for the most knightly aduenture, that in all my life time I could gaine the sight of.

Dramusiande likewise was abashed at this present spectacle, and knowing it had come to passe by the meanes of his Aunt, [Page] and fearing least in this Battaile some of them should be slaine, he went to her, and intreated her to pacifie this grieuous Stra­tageme, but her minde was bent to such cruelty, that she would vse no respect to his words. So long endured their violence to each other, that faintnesse made them let fal their weapons, and catch hold of one another, in the manner of wrastling: which was great griefe to the Princesse in the Castle to behold, and sore paines to themselues to continue fight so long.

The Sage Aliart vnderstanding of this great mishap, and scorning that Eutropa should attribute the triumph of this vic­tory wholly vnto her self, came to the place where these knights were assembled, and entring into the Campe like an ancient olde man (hauing a rodde in his hand, where about was wound a Serpent,) he strooke vpon the ground with it, when presently the knights fell all to the earth, in such a strange and maruei­lous alteration, that one would haue iudged, they had béene de­priued of their liues.

After he had there finished what pleased him, he wēt vp to the Castle of Dramusiande, sending such a darke smoke ouer all the Valley, (wherein might be perceiued great flashes and flames of fire) that the Princes in the Castle were marueilously af­frighted. This moued Eutropa to such great anger (because shée could not gaine the knowledge how this had hapned, no worke her will on [...]he knights, as she had certainly purposed,) that shée went raging all about the Castle, mooued to such disquietnesse, that no body could perswade her.

At last this great darknes vanished away, and nothing could bee séene but the Knights, that lay all grouelling vpon the ground: which caused Dramusiande with his noble Prisoners, to goe foorth and fetch them all into his Castle. When they had taken off their Helmets, the King Recinde knew his children, and the king Arnedes his sonnes: Polendos knewe Francian his sonne, and Bazilliart and Don Rosuel, were vi­sited by the valiant Belcar, Dridan was carried the armes of Maiortes, and Platir was borne in by his noble Father Prima­leon, who because he had left him whē he was somewhat yong, did hardly knowe that it was his sonne. In briefe, they all [Page] lamented to sée their kindred and friendes in such great misfor­tune, and conueyed them into the Castle, where they were so honorably vsed, that in short time they had good hope to recouer them from this danger.

When they had attained some part of their former health, they reioyced greatly that they had happened into the company of their dearest friends, and declared in what maner they were deluded by the two Damosels, which was not strange to them, who perceiued the daily practises of Eutropa, to be grounded on such trecherous deceits,

Now did Dramusiande greatly commend his good Fortune, in gaining so many couragious and well approoued knights: as he was fnlly resolued, he should now easily conquere the Isle of the Lake, which as yet hee would not make knowne to any of the Knights, but vsed himselfe so pleasant in their company, and frequented them daily with such delightfull exercises, that generally they bare him great good will and affection,

For this opinion he conceiued, that vsing them with gentle­nesse, and shewing himselfe curteous in all attempts, he should winne their good wils, which hée made more account off, then all the riches in the world. As it is alwaies séene, that friendship sooner winneth the gentle minde, theu the rich promises and de­liuery of Coyne, can purchase any faithfull perswasion: which craueth a more couetous interest, then the persons estéeming vertue, will straine their mindes to amount vnto.

CHAP. XXXIX.
How Eutropa after she had obtained all the Knights prisone­ners in her Castle, began a new trechery, to bring to ruine the Emperour and Citie of Constantinople, by sending Letters to the Soldan of Babylon, declaring how the Em­perour was destitute of his chief knights, & how he might easily ouercome the citie. And how the noble knight of the Sauage man, after he was healed of the wounds he had receiued by the knight of Fortune, left the Court of Eng­land, and trauelled to seeke the aduentures of great Brit­taine, in which endeuour he arriued at the castle of the Gi­ant Dramusiand, where he vnhorsed the Prince Primaleon and his noble Father the Prince Don Edward. Likewise how he preuailed against the kings Arnedes and Recin­de, and foiled the G [...]ants Pandare and Alligan: so that he entred combate with the Giant Dramusiande, each of them fore wounding the other, yet neither could enioy the victory. And how the Sage Aliart came againe, and made such a maruellous darkenesse, that the knight of the Sauage man was carried away no body could whither.

GLad was Eutropa that she had gotten these Knights her prisones, whom she stood in great feare of, and Christendome in most néed of: and yet not contenting her selfe with this extreame crueltie, would practise another mischiefe, to bring to destruction all the noble knights on the earth. It so fortu­ned, that by politike meanes, she was aduertised of the death of Olorique Alchediane, the great Soldan of Babylon, and deere friend to the Emperour Palmerin: who had a sonne remaind aliue, not of the gentle nature of his father, but a great enemy to the whole estate of Christendome.

[Page] This seruing for fit her diuellish purpose, she gaue him by Letters to vnderstand, what great and gréeuous mischances, his Progenitors had receiued by the Emperours of Greece, in that many Princes of his blood and linage, had béene cruelly slaine before the walles of Constantinople, which naturall loue and dutie, did inforce him to reuenge, else should he be iustly contemned and reproched of the whole world: where if now he would vexe his enemy vpon so iust occasion, & vrge him to the small defence he had left for his succour, he might be Monarch of the whole world, and haue more at command then all his Predecessours had.

As for a conuenient time, he could with for no better then was at that present: when if he would lay siege to Constanti­nople, it had no other Rampier of defence, then the aged Em­perour, whose yeares forbad him to enter the field, and whose dominions lay ready at his owne appointment. As for the no­ble couragious knights, whom all the world feared, and were the onely safegard to that famous City, were in such place, where they had more néed of succour themselues, then come to defend the aged Emperour. Yea, and all other realmes were so vnprouided, of those that were the meane to let this determina­tion, that neither could they helpe him, or promise safety to themselues, so that if he would, he might bring vnder his obey­sance, the most of all Christendome.

There letters were conueyed to the Soldan of Babylon, who prouide for the attempt which Eutropa had willed him: where to his determination, we will forsake him at this time, till we gaine more fit occasson to discourse of procéedings.

The hardy knight of the Sauage man, was purposed now to sée the aduentures of great Brittaine, for which cause (when his wounds were perfectly healed) he tooke leaue of King Fre­dericke and the Princesse Flerida, procéeding in his trauell, till fortune brought him to the Valley of Perdition, where he pre­sently espoed the Castle of Dramusiande. Not long had he stood to take view of this Castle, but hee perceiued to issue forth a braue company of well appointed knights, among whom were Giants of a monstrous stature, which gaue him [Page] occasion to suppose, that hée was arriued at the place where so many famous Knights were detained Prisoners: yet was ge driuen into a great doubt, in that such comely Knights should kéepe company with such ougly fellowes. At last, hée beheld the Knights preparing themselues, as it were to Iust: when (after he had done his deuotions in praiers, as was his accusto­med vse) he receiued a Speare from his Esquire, which he char­ged toward Pecinde the King of Spaine. When Dramusiande sawe the courage of the Knight of the Sauage man, they all came downe to the foote of the bridge, meaning, as it was their custome, the Prince Don Edward should haue the first course: but through intreatie, the King Recinde got leaue first to trie his strength. The Knight of the Sauage man béeing readie prepared, encountred the King with great valure, but such was his misfortune, that he was sent to the earth. Arnedes, who had alway in trauaile borne him company, preuailed through ear­nest desire, that hée was granted the second Iust: but he was inforced to beare the King Recinde company. Primaleon séeing his friendes receiue such dishonour before his face, without ta­king leaue of the Prince Don Edward, tooke the Speare and ran couragiously against the Knight of the Sauage man, when they brake their speares, yet neither of them any thing shaken. Dramusiande, who desired to sée the ende of this noble exploit, commaunded the Speares should be presently brought foorth, when each of them tooke their choise, and fell to their enterprise againe.

At the third attempt, Fortune turning her backe to the noble Primaleon, caused him likewise to be dismounted to the earth. This mishappe greatly displeased the Prince Don Ed­ward, and hée taking one of the strongest Speares, gaue the Encounter to the Knight of the Sauage man, which was dis­charged with so great magnanimitie, that both their Horses and themselues were layde on the ground. Don Edward quickly taking his féete againe, and maruayling at the puissant strength of the Knight of the Sauage man, who came vnto him and saluted him with these wordes. Trust me (Syr Knight) I would estéeme my selfe both honoured of Fortune, and highly [Page] preferred vnto all good lucke, if I were in a place where, to doe you such seruice, as is your reward through your braue behaui­our.

For this assure your selfe, that you are the Knight who ought to beare the general praise among men, especially of me, who in all his life time neuer sustained so sharpe a plunge, as at this encountring you haue put me too. Syr, (answered the Prince Don Edward,) I knowe not if my behauiour séeme so praise worthy to you, but this I speake vnfainedly (not to cause you conceiue a pride in your selfe) that I neuer met with a stranger knight, since I knew what belonged to the bearing of Armour.

Pandare came to ende their tale, giuing these wordes to the Knight of the Sauage man. Since (Sir Knight) you haue done more in the Iust, then euery one supposed to bee in your power, you must now endeuour your selfe to deale with me a while, for that all such as enter this Valley, are bound to fulfill this ancient custome. But if your heart serue you not to fulfill this enterprise, because feare may somewhat allay your youth­full courage, I wish you to yéelde your selfe, which will be more honourable, then to hazard your life, where you are certaine to lose it.

O sir (quoth the knight of the Sauage man) it séemes your Father was a Senator, by your Clarkly perswasion, and that you being his sonne, would do more with words then he could with déedes: but if your Father hath giuen you more wit then you can beare, I meane to beate it out of you, rather then you should be ouerburthened. Pandare somewhat offended to heare these stumpes, beganne to charge the Knight with his yron Mace, and hée change blowes with his good swoord, so that betwéene them passed such notable behauiour in fight, that Dramusiande, Don Edward, and Primaleon, commended mar­ueilously the hardnesse of the Knight of the Sauage man. At length, such was the good Fortune of this noble knight, that he brought Pandare on both his knées, when he had sent his head from his shonlders, had not the Giant Alligan come presently vpon him.

[Page] Then was he constrained to leaue Pandare and award the mighty blows Alligan charged him furiously withall: but such was the great foresight of the knight of the Sauage man, that he still bare off his strokes, and would not strike againe, as well to refresh his owne wearinesse, as to make the giant som­what stract with his long labour. In fine, when he perceiued his time, and saw Alligan was out of breath with his long con­tinuance in fight, he came vpon him with such fresh deliuery blowes, and followed his enterprise with such excéeding cou­rage, that he brought stout Alligan likewise vnder his obey­sance.

This Combate was so well estéemed of all the Princes, and so greatly displeased the minde of Dramusiande, that he appro­ched to the knight of the Sauage man as, thus. The good fortune (Sir knight) which hath returned you victorie, beyond our ex­pectations, or your good assurance: me thinkes should moue you haue respect to your bléeding wounds, which may more [...] ­damage your person, then all the perill you haue sustained in fight.

Wherefore, let me intreate you, to finish your desire in this trauaile, and to striue no farther, but yéeld your selfe to my friendship, and by my Sword I sweare, to vse you in such honourable manner, as shall be for your health, and mine own honestie.

If you refuse this my curteous offer, and a priuate pride shal cause you run without regard, I shal be vrged to that, I would be very loth to do, which is to giue you a fresh assault, when the estate you are in, doth rather require ease, which may be to your gréeuous detriment, and to my great dishonour.

These courteous words (aunswered the Knight of the Sauageman) would serue very well to a faint hearted man, or to him that is so sore as I in bodie, but not to him that is so sound in minde: wherefore I am to thanke you for your great pittie, and would accept it, if that I did conceiue any such pleasure. But as it séemeth to me, you are the Lord of this faire Castle, that at this present doth deaine the flower [Page] of all Chiualrie: wherefore I would gladly haue you to vnder­stand, that though my limmes be not in their best estate, my heart is in such sure hope, that my life shall purchase their pre­sent deliuery.

Dramusiande séeing he scorned his good will, and estéemd his words of no better account, presently returned him this ra­plie. I perceiue Sir, it is high time to cause you know what benefite you might haue receiued, in following my Counsell, and what danger shall happen through your owne folly, so ar­ming his head, and commaunding his Sword and Shéeld to be brought him, he charged the Knight of the Sauage man in this manner. I would wish to ioyne combate with a Knight so hardy as your selfe, so that the disposition of his health were such, as my blowes might be well welcome vnto him. But séeing your stomack so good, yet your body sore hurt and ouertra­uailed, I haue small pleasure to be thought I would deale with such a one, sauing that your fond words doth withhold my pit­tie, and denying my gentle offer, doth vrge me to exact the vtter­most.

The knight of the Sauage man would make him no aun­swer, but taking vp the Shield of the Giant Alligan, which was in much more better estate then his owne, he aduaunced himselfe to Dramusiande, shewing such agility and nimble be­hauiour in his fight, as though he had not bene so wearied as he was, but yet his dexteritie, and magnanimitie of courage, had not the power to abash the hardy Dramusiande: who was both esteemed and aporooued to beene of the strongest knights vnder the Sunne.

The Knight of the Sauage man, found this enterprise the worst that he had yet attempted, the happy ending whereof, were sufficient to win him perpetuall renowne: wherefore he did endeuour himselfe with such goodforesight, as all the Prin­ces receiued good occasion to commend his valour. For often­times the desired hope of victory, doth encourage one to aduen­ture, the greatest danger: so that receiuing but a good opinion of successe, doth so animate the courage, that he followeth his purpose with an inuincible pretence. Don Edward & Primaleō [Page] maruelling at this hautie exployte, séeing Dramusiande, neuer gaue blow, but it was so fiercely rewarded, verily supposed the perfect nobility of Knighthood, to remaine in thy neuer di­smayning knight of the Sauage man, which after a long times fight, caused Dramusiande to vse these spéeces. Trust mée (sir Knight) the perfect proofe of your infallible minde, con­straineth me to lament your present approching daunger: in that the gréeuous expence of your blood, cannot long sustaine you from the vnhappy death. But if Fortune appoint the ruine of your dayes at my hands, and that (as it is no other like) but it must of force be so, I shall condemne my selfe of monstrous ingratitude, in that such a hardy knight shall be cut off in his flowring yeares. Wherefore let me intreate you, that our Combate may here take conclusion, and to venter no more the daunger being imminent, which it selfe will may not suf­fer you to grant, yet the ruine of your Armour, the sore wounds on your body, and the blood that hath coloured the ground vnder your féete, me thinks should prouoke you to satisfie my request. Good counsell is better late followed then neuer, where it ten­deth to the aduancement of honour, and maintenance of the spotlesse estate of knighthood.

Sir (quoth the knight of the Sauage man) your request doth aske such a scope of argument, that I rather desire to renue the Combate then consume time in making you aunswer. And hereupon assure your selfe, that neither your eloquence can allude, or your force compell to hinder my enterprise, but I wil haue it, or else resigne thée my carkasse, to glut vp thy gréedy minde. With these words they went to it againe chéerely, deliuering such forceable blows to each other, that in short time their weakenesse withdrew them from any more hurt. For though the Knight of the Sauage man were in great debilitie, Dramusiande was brought into as great danger, that the Re­dants knew not to whom to impute the most hurt: so that the Giant would gladly that the knight had made acception of his offer, because he felt himselfe to haue receiued small aduantage in this fight.

But no maruell if the Knight of the Sauage man were [Page] weake indéede, hauing iusted and dealt with so many before, net did he alway beare such a courage, that they who beheld him supposed the contrary. Primaleon and the Prince Don Ed­ward came, aud were uery desirous to separate them asunder, because they feared the death of the knight of the Sauage man, but they laboured in vaine, for no perswasion could withhold the hardy knight, who saluted Dramusiande with such a mighty stroke vpon the Crest, that he cleft his Helmet, and wounded him very dangerously on the head, wherewith his sword brake in a great many péeces. Dramusiande séeing his sword was broken, and himselfe lie likewise vnprouided of weapon, came and caught the knight about the middest, who receiued him in like maner, that they threw ech other to the ground with great violence, being iudged as men depriued of their liues, so that it could not be said whether had the victorie.

The night approching very hastily on, the Sage Aliart kno­wing of this Combat, addressed himselfe thither in all the hast, who made such an obscurity ouer all the Valley, as he had done before at the other battaile, in which darknesse he departed, and the knight of the Sauage man was taken away, no body could imagine how or which way, so that theregardants, who thoght to haue carried him into the Castle, could not tell themselues in what he was gone.

Dramusiand was conducted into his fortresse, where he was diligently tended by his Aunt Eutropa, who fearing least at thie time, the knights would séeke meanes to escape away, she locked them into a great hall all together, where they had no light but what came in at a very small window, at which likewise they receiued such things as was néedefull for them. In this order she vsed them till Dramusiande and his Giants had recouerd their former health, when she brought them forth againe into their accustomed chambers, greatly displeased that Dramusiande would behaue himselfe so friendly to them as he did. But such was the conference he reposed in their oath, in that they would not attempt any thing contrary to his wil and pleasure, that he exempted all discourtesie from his heart, conti­nuing his wonted friendlinesse to the captiue Princes.

[Page] For on this he alwayes grounded his perswasion, that it were a point of marueilous ingratitude, to breake the vowed oath a man had made to his friend, and hée that would so greatly dis­honour himselfe, should bée estéemed and reputed as one that alienated and estranged himselfe from the course of all vertu­ous déedes.

CHAP. XL.
How the Knight of Fortune, staying in the house of the an­cient Gentleman his Hoste, had his woundes very well recouered, and his body established in sound and perfect estate of health, which moued him to depart from thence, to seeke the aduenture of great Brittaine. And how in tra­uaile he arriued at a little Pauillion, wherein he found the Knight of the Sauage man, lying sore wounded on a Knightly Beere, and Don Rosiran de la Bronde, standing by him, vsing many sorrowfull and heauy lamentations. And how the Knight of Fortune, by markes he perceiued in the face of the Knight of the Sauage man, and by con­ferring with Don Rosiran about him, had knowledge that it was his brother Florian, whom when he thought to take further view of, was presently carried away by the art of the Sage Aliart. And how the Knight of Fortune departed on his iourney, and Don Rosiran, carried the Armour of the knight of the Sauage man to the English Court, where he manifested the death of the hardy knight, and presen­ted his Armour to the aged King Fredericke, who caused it to be placed in the House of Ensignes, amongst the Ar­mour of many famous Knights.

[Page] THe renowed Knight of Fortune, (whom through occasion we left to speake of) re­mained so long in the house of the ancient Gentleman his Hoste, that his woundes were perfectly healed, and his body well a­ble to endure the bearing of Armor. When Siluian had prouided him new Armor like his other, and a shield with his vsuall de­uise of Fortune vpon it, he departed which way he thought soo­nest to finde the Castle of Dramusiande. At last arriuing at the foote of a mountaine, he espied a little Pauillion, wherein were a great many of lighted torches, which because the darke night was somewhat entred, gaue a very great shewe of light to the place. This strange sight moued him to take his way thither, as well to sée what it might be, as to driue other fancies away that greatly annoyed his mind. When he was entred the Pa­uillion, he perceiued two séemely Knights, the one lying on a sumptuous Béere, more like a dead then a liuing creature, the other making great lamentations, and pittious bemonings o­uer him, whom hee presently knowe to be Don Rosiran de la Bronde, the Cousin of the aged King of England, which made him suppose that the Knight on the Béere, was some man of great authority & estimation. Comming to Don Rosian, and saluting him very friendly, he presently had knowledge of him, that he was the noble Knight of Fortune, to whom he began in this manner following.

Sir, I sée that Fortune hath greatly fauoured you, in permit­ting you to sée the dead body of the Knight of the Sauage man, to whom you were alway a mortall enemy, yet could not bée he that should vanquish him in fight. The Knight of Fortune hearing the wordes of Don Rosiran, was ouercome with such heauinesse, that the teares trickled down his chéekes, when he began to frame his answere thus.

Indéede, neuer had I more desire to preuaile against any man, then my minde laboured to conqure this hardy Knight, [Page] whose prowesse is no lesse bruted euery where, then his knight­ly behauiour deserued. But now since death so hath cut off this famed Champion, whom I laboured to know, yet could neuer attaine my wish, I will end the enmity that hath bin betwéene vs, with so sharpe a reuenge of his vntimely death, as were it possible for his ghost to imbrace my friendship, himselfe should perceiue his enemy, is become as deare a friend to him as euer was any. Wherefore of all courtesie, shew me the place where he hath receiued this misfortune, and I wil die on him that hath bene the death of so good a knight.

Trust me Sir (answered Don Rosiram) my arriuall hath bene here so lately, that I am ignorant how he happened to this mischance: neuerthelesse I was aduertised by one,) who departed not long before you came) that at the Castle of Dra­musiande, where all the knights remaine that haue bin so long lost, he hath sustained this vnfortunate, hap, yet not without in­iuring him and his traine, as the memory of this knight, shall remaine to him while he liueth, albeit Fortune would not suf­fer him to end the aduenture.

The knight of Fortune greatly displeased, to sée this knight brought into such extremitie, began to conceiue better estima­tion of the aduenture, then euer he did before, albeit he was greatly abashed, that so good a Knight had failed in that enter­prise. Then began he to behold the Armour that lay there by him, being defaced and hacked in so many places, which vrged him to commend them that had the strength to vse it so, but more the man that had the might to resist such an extreme dan­ger: wherevpon he saye. I may well perswade my selfe, that the hope to end this adventure is altogether lost: the Knight bée­ng dead, who had the puissance to finish all other. At these words he approched to the Béere, to sée if he were cleane de­priued of life, when lifting vp the shéete of Silke, he perceiued his countenance so grim and hardy, as it was at the time he entred Cambate with him. As he stood wishly beholding this noble Knight, his heart began greatly to conceiue an inward ioy, and his minde began to muse on a thousand matters. But chéefly the lesse of his Brother was his greatest thought, whom [Page] he suspected this knight to be, by diuers markes he knew ie his face, for the better assurance whereof, he called Siluian, willing him to behold the knight, and report as his minde serued, his answer was comfortable to his Maisters opi [...]ions, giuing cre­dite that it was Florian, who returned not after he departed with the Lyons. Vpon this perswasion, the knight of Fortune desired Don Rosiran, to certifie him of the name of the Knight of the Sauage man, insomuch as it should neither disprofite the one nor the other, but that he might resolue him in a matter, which caused him to vse great suspition, to which words Don Rosiran thus answered.

Sir Knight, in what I may or can satisfie your desire, as­sure your selfe I will do my best. As concerning his name, nei­ther my selfe, nor any other that I know, were so happy as at any time to vnderstand it, for that he vsed no other name, then to call himselfe the Fatherlesse. But in times past, he hath of­ten declared vnto me, that the best friend he had remembrance off, was a Sauage man, who nourished him a long time, and whom he supposed to be his Father, but because he could not certainly assure himselfe thereof, he termed himselfe as I haue told you.

The Knight of Fortune, whose minde was maruellously re­uiued at the words of Don Rosiran, perswaded himselfe, that the knight of the Sauage man, was his Brother Florian, for which cause he offered to embrace him as he lay, but on a sud­daine there entred foure men, who lifting vp the Béere vppon their shoulders departed away with it in very great hast. The Knight of Fortune endeuouring to follow them, they willed him to the contrary, giuing him to vnderstand, that such good prouision should be vsed to him, as if the Diuine bountie would agrée therto, his life would be preserued, & his estate recomfor­ted. With this perswasion he [...] returned to Don Rosiran, to know which way he intended to trauaile, because he had determined himselfe, to go séeke the place where this good knight had bene so ill handled, and reuenge his cause, though it were the losse of his owne life. Sir (quoth Don Rosiran) I meane presently to take my way towards London, where I will present the ar­mour [Page] of my deare Friend, to the king mine Vncle (at whose hands he receiued the order of knighthood) that it may be reser­ued in such a place, where the remembrance of his déedes done in his life time, may eternize the memorie of his infortunate death. With this answere, the knight of Fortune was very well pleased, desiring if he could shewe him the way to the Ca­stle of the Giant Dramusiande, to whom Don Rosiran replied. Credite me Syr, I thinke few or none can accomplish your de­mand, such incantations and exorcismes are spread ouer all the wayes, but as it should séeme by this good knight, it cannot bée farre hence, as you might iudge by his wounds.

Thus with sundry embracings they departed, the knight of Fortune which way pleased him, and Don Rosian with all spéede rode to London, bearing before him the Armour of the Knight of the Sauage man, which he could not put vpon his bo­dy, because it was so cruelly martired. Being come to the court, he found the king sitting very solitary, for want of the noble knights that were woont to kéepe him company: and comming into his presence, with dutiful reuerence he began in this man­ner. Most gracious soueraigne, I neither thought my heart in quiet, nor the time so happy as it should be, till I had presented your Maiestie, with the Armour of the couragious knight of the Sauage man, whereby you may perceiue (although the more misfortune) hée maintained his life in honour, and with Fame ended his dayes in the face of Fortune, proouing him­selfe no lesse then he was, the man that deserued most the name of a Champion, And in reward of his taken paines, he craueth no more of your Maiestie, but that his Armour may beautifie some place of honour, to witnesse the vertuous behauiour he was woont to employ it in.

After hee had certified the King of the whole request, hee declared at large the aduentures of this hardy knight, against the Gyant Dramusiande, and his noble Company, not for­getting to tell him, how hée mette the knight of Fortune, at the Pauillion, who tooke such great griefe for this mis­happe, that hee is gone to reuenge his death on him, and all his.

[Page] The King thinking on this froward mischance, and brea­king foorth into diuerse passions, expressing the great dolour of his minde, he commended the valiant attempt of the Knight of Fortune, and bemoned the losse of his son Don Edward, with his princely children, attributing this mishap to bée procured through his search, and how many aduenterous Knights were lost to finde him. Now hée began to vespayre, that he should ne­uer heare of him againe, since the Knight of the Sauage man was dead, in whom he placed sure trust for his deliuery, yet againe hée remembred the Knight of Fortune, iudging the ad­uenture such, as none but he could finish. Then went he into the Chambers of the Quéene, and the Princes Flerida, shew­ing them the Armour of the Knight of the Sauage man, and by what misfortune hée had lost his life. As concerning theyr heauines for these vnhappy tydings, because I will not Gen­tlewoman that you should conceiue any sorrow thorow their dealings, I referre their lamentations to your gentle iudge­ments.

The King commaunded the armour of this good knight (to whom he gaue the name of the Fatherlesse) to be placed where the auncient Kings of England kept their Armour, so that their worthy déedes should not growe into obliuion: and this place was called the House of Ensignes, which they alwayes vsed to adore their Triumphes, and wherein was registred the perpetuall renowne, atchieued by such, as vsed their Armour to the aduancement of vertue. Here was the Armour of the va­liant Marlot, and also of the aduenterous Syr Launcelot du Lake, as also of diuerse of the Knights of the round Table: in this place the Armour of the knight of the Sauage man, was royally hanged vp, to witnesse what aduentures he had knight­ly discharged.

The Knight laboured in deuotion, to put out of memory the losse of this hardy knight the Fatherlesse, setting his minde on euerlasting, true and permanent things: as for the other, as they were transitory and vaine, so to their frailtie hee gaue them ouer. For Nature hath bestowed so great a benefit vpon vs, that shee hath left vs iudgement to discerne betwéene good [Page] and euill, and by what meanes we shal purchase our eternal he­ritage, which is the chiefest and best riches she could indue vs withall, and the onely direction wherein to spend the whole course of my life.

CHAP. XLI.
How the Knight of Fortune being departed from Don Rosi­ran de la Bronde, arriued in the Valley of Perdition, at the Castle of Dramusiande, where a Damosell brought him the shield of the Palme Tree, which was taken from Silui­an, when he was Captiue to the Giant Camboldam. And how the Knight of Fortune Iusted with his Father the Pricne Don Edward, vanquished Pandare, and cut the head of the Giant Alligan, entring Combate with Dra­musiande, whom he likewise conquered, setting all the captiue Princes at libertie. And how an aged man came with two Domosels, and healed the wounds ot the knight of Fortune.

AFter the knight of Fortune had taken leaue of Don Rosiran de la Bronde, he had not trauailed long, before he arriued in the Val­ley of Perdition, when because it was night, and he knewe not well which way to take, he alighted, sitting downe at the roote of a Trée, where he determined to sléepe vn­till the next morning, but such was the griefe he receiued, at the wounds of the knight of the Sauage man, with sundry other co­gitations that tormented his minde (being all this while igno­rant, [Page] of whence or what he was, so that hee could not suffer his eyes to receiue any sléepe, nor his troubled thoughts to enioy any rest. For stil desired to be at the Castle, where so many no­ble knights were held as Prisoners: vowing to redéeme them from that aduerse estate, or hee would leaue his life there, as pledge of his valure. In the morning, Siluian brought him his stéed, when presently they mounted on horsebacke, and rode on which way he thought soonest to ende his pretence, Eutropa ha­uing now brought Dramusiande, and all his Knights to their woonted health, that they could beare Armour and resist their e­nemy, suffered the knight of Fortune to come before the Castle, where he perceiued the knights newly come foorth, making a shew of resistance if he durst offer to venture.

This sight caused him presently to couch his speare, when on sodaine a Damosell came riding on Horsebacke, with a shield vpon her arme, and this staied him. sir knight, I desire you be­fore you begin your Combate, to take this Shield for your bet­ter defence, because this is the day you shal haue most néed of it, and this day it shal stand you in cheefest stéede. Here ending her talke, & deliuering him the shield immediately she departed in such great hast, that he could not haue the leisure to speake vnto her, or to giue her thanks for her so great courtesie. Then he de­liuered his Shielde of Fortune to Siluian, fastening the other vpon his arme, when he knew it to be the Shield of the Palme Tree, that was taken from Siluian, when he slew the Giant Camboldam of Mulzella, which made him to expect some good aduenture, for the wordes the Damosel spake when she tooke it from Siluian, how y she would restore it again, when he should haue most neede to imploy it in seruice. This moued him to ap­prooue the shield, because of the spéeches of the Damosell, before the Emperor of Constantinople, whē the Sage Aliart sent her, as you haue heard before: likewise because, this was the most dangerous aduenture, that in all his life time he enterprised, he could not wish for a more fit occasion, then at this instant to make not wish for a more fit occasion, then at this instant to make triall of his shield. Don Edward being ready prouided, menaced his corage to yt knight of Fortune, who receiued him, with such exquisit behauior of fight, that Don Edward was sore [Page] hurt, but the good knight by receiuing his stroke vpon the shéeld escaped the force of the lance, The knight of Fortune vpon this good lucke would haue entred the combate with the sword, but Pandare comming forth of the Castle, commanded the Prince toreturne, so that he could not satisfie his request. Don Edward entring ye castle, the knight made such spéed that he entred with him: which when Pandare perceiued, he shut the gate, and came vanting with his sword toward the good knight, who in short time dishartned Pandare, because his blows could not pierce the shéeld, but he so spoiled the armor of the giant that in short time he brought him vnder his obeysance, being greatly cōmended of Dramusiand, Don Edward, & Primaleon, for his noble exployt.

The Grecian knights had partly knowledge of him, in that some of them were at Constantinople, when the damsel broght the shéeld, which they knew by the beautie, and the braue de­uice: and such was their opinion of this knight, that if he fay­led to end the aduenture, they doubted they should neuer get de­liuery from that cruell Castle. Yet so great was the pleasure they conceiued of him, as they could not tell wether they should go to welcome him, or enter the combate, and so deliuer him: but seeing how he vsed Pandare, vrged them to beléeue he should haue good successe in this hautie enterprise.

Alligan séeing Pandare was néere losing his head, came and fiercely assailed the knight of Fortune, but he welcommed him with such a pure paiment, as he made him quickely retyre to take his breath.

Dramusiande séeing Alligan so shrewdly handled, was so vex­ed he knew not well what to say: for he thought it vnpossible to conquer this hardy knight, hauing such a shéeld as could not all this while be pierced, so that he began vtterly to denounce Fortune, that had fauoured him so long, and would now leaue him at the last. Alligan (albeit very vnwilling) began againe to assaile the knight: but such was his reward for his trauaile, that he was brought vnder his subiection, and left his head on a gage to the knight of Fortune.

When Dramusiande saw that Alligan was slaine, in a great rage he called for his Armour, vowing to execute seuere [Page] reuenge on the good knight, in the meane time, the Prince Don Edward came vnto him, requesting such friendship at his hands as he would suffer him to haue a sight of his face. Floraman sée­ing he was vnwilling to discouer himselfe: saide to him, that he ought not to deny such a small request, to so noble a Prince as Don Edward was.

When he heard Don Edward named, who was reported to be such a singular knight in Prowesse, and for whose sake, so many valiant Princes had left their countrey and kindred, to finde him who was lost, none could tell where, he caused Silui­an to take off his helmet, when the Prince delighted with his comely contenance, presently said. I hope (Sir knight) as God hath endued you with such a séemely and honourable shape so he hath reserued you to finish this perillous and strange ad­uenture, for that your behauiour doth eneourage vs all to so good an opinion. Neuerthelessee, if Fortune do allow you the victorie, I desire you to vse curtesie to this Giant, who prepa­reth himselfe to encounter with you, for that his gentle vsage to vs, doth constraine me to speake so fauourable in this case. The knight of Fortune, had not not the leysure to make him an­swer, because he perceiued Dramusiande comming towardes him, when Siluian hauing armed his head, they began to charge each other very furiously, so that now began the proofe of the fight, for al that had passed before, was nothing in respect of this present exployts.

The strokes of Dramusiande entred the knight of Fortuns shéeld, as easily as it would haue done in any other, which vr­ged the good knight to think, that the promise made of the shéeld was false and of no truth, séeing it failed when he stood in most extremitie. But then he perswaded himselfe againe, that if he gained the victory, it should not be attributed to the vertue of the shéeld, but rather to the gotten by the valour of his person, which should be estéemed of more renowne, then to atchieue the conquest by such a prouided meane. Wherefore reposing no longer confidence in his shéelde he trusted to his strength, and the good successe he did assure himselfe off: vsing Dramusiande in such sort, as he had little cause to boast of his bargains. But [Page] to speake vprightly, small was the aduantage on either side for they were both sore wounded, both alike wearied, and both in great danger of the present death, which made all the Princes heauy, and the regardants sorrowfull, to sée such an vnfriendly spectacle,

Dramusiande retyring to take pause, beganne to suspect that this was the Knight should bring him and all his vnder obey­sanue, of whose comming, his Aunt Eutropa alway cast a great doubt: which to preuent, hee thought best to render him some of the Princes, and so to will him leaue off his enterprise: but when he considered, that to present such a condition to his enemie, might expresse his cowardise, and extinguish the good report of his woonted knightly déedes, he determined to end his life with so good a champion, rather then to be reproched by con­tinuall infamy.

The knight of Fortune walking vp and down, communing with him selfe in this manner. If doe loose my life to deliuer so many of my deare friends, I account it the chiefest honor of my life, and the best aduenture that euer I enterprised. Then sud­dainly turning his thoughts to his faire Polinarda, in this man­ner he began to vtter his amourous complaints. Madam, if at any time you respected the vowed dutie of your seruant, then at this time vouchsafe to remember me in your Princely fauor, so that if the victory returne according as I wish, I may mani­fest the honour of mine attempt, to your soueraigne bounty, by which I liue, and in which I haue hope to confound my enemy.

Then they began againe in such wrathfull manner, that all supposed there was no other remedie, but the death of them both, such was their féeble estate, and so great the losse of their blood, that Dramusiande was constrained to fall downe, hée could no longer sustaine himselfe, when the Knight of Fortune sate downe by him, as glad to haue a little rest, he was become so faint. Don Edward, and the other Princes came running to Dramusiande, and tooke off his Helmet, that he might receiue the Aire, desiring the Knight of Fortune to conteut himselfe with the victory, and not to worke the death of the friendly Gi­ant, to which he answered.

[Page] Although mine intent was to part his head from his shoul­ders, yet will I not at this time execute such crueltie, respec­ting the honour you haue done me to intreate for him, and I haue done as much as my heart desired. The Princes conduc­ting them both into ye castle, were so diligent about thē, at their dangerous estate required, especially to Dramusiande, who was reduced into very weake estate.

As they were so busie about thē, they heard a great knocking at the gate, which the prince Platir opened in all spéed: where he beheld an ancient man, apparelled after the Grecian fashion, who entred the Castell, accompanied with two comely Damo­sels, carrying in their handes two golden Boxes of precious Oyntment, wherewith they enbalmed the Knight of Fortune, as also the other Knights that had receiued any hurt.

The auncient man would not suffer any to be about the wounded knights, but onely the two Damosels: wherefore he commanded all the other foorth of the chamber, promising them they should recouer their woonted health againe. This promise did greatly content the Princes, who desired nothing so much, as the health of the Knight of Fortune: in that by his conque­ring the Giant, they had receiued their former libertie againe, and all the cruell Enchauntmentes that Eutropa had practised in the Valley of Perdition, were now fully finished, and her power to be no more estéemed. The anciēt man tooke his leaue of the Princes, commaunding the Damosels not to depart from thence, till they had all recouered their sound estate of health againe.

The Princes did daily accompany the Knight of Fortune, and Don Edward woud often visite the Giant Dramusiande, labouring to shew him great courtesie, because he would not be vngratefull for the frienship hee had found at his handes. In this manner did the Princes passe away their time, vntill their dearest friend had gained a good constitution of his body, which the Damoselles accomplished, before they would depart from the Castle.

CHAP. XLII.
How the Princes in the Castle of the Giant Dramusiande, for ioy of their deliuery by the puissance of the renowned knight of Fortune, sent Floraman the Prince of Sardignia, to the court of the king of England, to whom, in the pre­sence of the Queene and Princesse Flerida, hee declared the ioyfull newes of Don Edward, as also of the other Princes that had bene long time kept prisoners. Which caused the king to send Argolant againe, to the Emperor of Constātinople, to declare the glad finding of the prince Don Edward, with his sonne the noble Primaleon. And how Sir Pridos came to the English court, to verifie the Prince Floraman.

DRamusiande being thus happily ouercome and remaining in such great debilitie, as it was doubtfull of his spéedy recouery, the Princes would not depart from thence, till the knight of Fortune were able to beare them company, to whō the Damamosels neither spared labour, nor good endeuour, so that they had good hope in short time he should be of strength to trauaile with them. In the meane time, they determined with themselues to send a Messenger to the King of England, that he might vnderstand the good Fortune that had happened to them, which would make amends for the great sorrow hee had sustained of a long time.

[Page] The Prince Floraman, because of his great wisedome and iudgement, was appointed by generall consent to beare these glad tidings: who went into the Armourie, belonging to the Giant Dramusiande, and put on his owne Armor, which was battered & broken, as also coloured with the blood which came out of his body in the skirmish, before he was taken prisoner into the castle. When he was armed, he tooke his leaue of them all, and rode in such haste that on the second day he arriued at London, where he was very much beheld, because his armour was so greatly brused.

At length he came to the Court, at what time the king was ready to goe on Hunting: to whom Floraman presented him­selfe, desirous to kisse his Graces hand. After his Esquire had taken off his Helmet, the king had knowledge of him, when he imbraced him with these words. Certainly sir Floraman your Armour brought into such a great alteration, doth witnesse the great danger hath bene incident to your person: which trust me is as gréeuous to me in beholding, as it hath bene yrkosome to your selfe in abiding. It séemeth you should bring but sorow­full tidings, being in such great mischance as it séemeth you haue tasted: Neuerthelesse, hauing often receiued such a sad re­ports, I can the better endure this, therefore say on.

My gracious Lord (answered Floraman) if you would vouch­safe to returne into your Pallace, where I might behold your Quéene, and the Princesse Flerida, I shall discouer such ioyfull newes, as your long continuing wishes shal be now prensently satisfied.

At these words, the King tooke Floraman by the hand, and walked with him to the chamber where the Quéene and prin­cesse were sitting, who welcommed him very gratiously, and v­sed him according as his noble birth required. Floraman being neuer so happy, as before this instant to haue a sight of the Princesse Flerida, estéemed himselfe the gladdest Knight aliue, to bring tidings to such a rare Princesse of beautie, then after he had done his dutie, according as the place and persons besée­med, he began to salute them with these spéeches following.

To be tedious in words (my gratious Soueraigne) or to trifle [Page] the time with long circumstances, might offend your patience to stay to heare it, and cumber my memory tastand to shew it. Wherefore to vse breuity in sch a case, as you haue long desi­red, and at last deserued: I thinke it expedient considering your heauinesse, and therefore attend how it hath luckily hap­pened. Don Edward your noble sonne, Primaleon with the other Princes and Knights, that haue bene so long time lost, and now found at last, in remembrance of their obedient due­tie, do all kisse the hand of your Maiestie. Their long oppres­sion hath now obtained a happy end, and their grieuous sor­rowes finished with a generall delight, in that they haue reco­uered their wonted libertie, albeit it hath bene bought with a sharpe resistance. It will not belong before they come them­selues, for honour and dutie willeth them to stay as yet, be­cause the renowned Knight of Fortune, whose Prowesse hath fréede them from bondage, hath not recouered such health as may permit him to iourney. Vntill which time, they remaine in the Castle of Dramusiande, who hath kept them prisoners, till this long aduenture hath bene so worthily brought to end, and thus haue I certified your Grace what hath bene giuen me in charge to accomplish.

These words moued them to looke on ech other, doubting whether they might giue credance to the report of Floraman or no, who séeing them al in such an amazement, as though they did hardly beléeue what he had said, began againe to perswade them as thus. I trust your Grace doth not thinke, that I would presume to manifest before you a tale of vntroth, which to do, might remaine a blemish to mine honour, beside the of­fence vnto your Grace did deserue no pardon. And therefore I desire you, not to mistrust what I haue bene so bold as to dis­close, nor credite me, your noble sonne Don Edward is a line, and yesterday I left him with the other Princes, for the causes which I haue already declared.

The king perceiuing the earnest protestations of the Prince Floraman, came to him, and imbraced him with these wordes. I haue that opinion (Sir Floraman) in you, that you wold not dalude vs with any false report, yet blame not my hardnesse of [Page] beléefe, because I haue béene so often certified of tydings, which gaue an impossibilitie to what you haue declared, so that for this cause I was filled with the more suspect. Neuerthelesse, yet such is the confidence I repose in you, and such is the graui­tie that accompanieth your dayly attempts, that I am resol­ued of your ioyfull tydings, and giue you a thousand thanks for your imployed pain, then which nothing can be more accep­table to me, nor any thing more welcome then these long desi­red tydings.

The Quéene and the Princesse withdrew themselues into a Chamber, manifesting such ioyfall distourses to each other, as might witnes their great contentation, yea such were the seue­rall motions of gladnesse, that tooke place within their sorrow­ing mindes, as themselues had not power to expresse it, nor I the leysure to declare it: The king was desirous to know, by whom Don Edward and the other Princes, had beene so long time kept Prisoners, as also how the knight of Fortune beha­ued himselfe, in that so many had ventured, yet none so happie to preuaile as he. Floraman rehearsed the whole state of their imprisonment, from the first to the last, with the continuance of accidents happening in that time: but when he declared the last combate of the knight of Fortune, against the Gyant Dra­musiand, the king was taken with a maruellous astonishment which vrged him to enter into these spéeches.

Certainly, the war that the Gyant Frenaque made against my father, hath bene the cause that all this mischiefe and ad­uerse mishaps hath chanced: so that my life had likewise come into danger, had not God in mercy vsed more respect vnto me: but tell me Sir Floraman, is the Gyant Dramusian de yet li­uing?

Certes my good Lord (answered Floman) I left him in ve­ry grieuous and doubtfull estate of health, and your sonne as carefull for his welfare, as he is for his owne prospertie, and he desireth your Grace, at such time as he shall come to your court that you would entertaine him as gently as you will receiue himselfe, so great is the affection of your son to him, and surely his behauiour hath deserued no lesse.

[Page] The King well pleased with this report, promised to fulfill the desire of his Sonne in any thing: and so hée went to the Chamber of the Princesse Flerida, to whom hee rehearsed all the talke that had passed betwéene him and the Prince Flora­man.

These newes were so blazed thorow the Cittie of London, that many came to welcome the Prince Floraman, and many tooke the way to the Castle of the Giant Dramusiande, shew­ing such ioyfulnesse for recouery of their lost Prince, that the passed sorrowe was nothing thought vpon. The gladnesse of the Citizens being vnderstood by the Princesse Flerida, exiled from her heart all her former feare, and made herb [...] more con­uersant with the Courtly company, then of long time shee had béene, and would sit talking with such as returned from the Gi­ants Castle, witnessing that the Prince Floraman had before declared.

The King thought good, to giue knowledge of this happy chance, to the Emperour Palmerin of Constantinople, and cal­ling Argolant (who had béene Ambassador thither before) gaue him his commaundement following. Because you carryed ty­dings to the Emperour, when the great mishap befell to my Sonne, I am minded you shall now goe giue him a cause of as great ioy, as then you did of heauinesse.

Declare vnto him, how my Son Don Edward, with his no­ble Sonne Primaleon, and all the other knights that were lost, are now deliuered from their Captiuitie, and enioy their for­mer libertie againe.

With this Message, Argolant armed himselfe, and depar­ted spéedily towards Cōstantinople. Within thrée dayes after, the King desirous to sée his Sonne and the other Princes, de­termined to ryde to the Castle of Dramusiande, but the ar­riuall of Syr Pridos, changed his minde presently: certi­fying him, that so soone as the Knight of Fortune, and the Giant Dramusiande were able to abide trauaile, they would not stay, but come to the Court with all the spéede they might.

[Page] The King imbraced sir Pridos, and conducted him to the cham­ber of the Princes Flerida: who reioyced greatly to sée him, but more gladly would haue had sight of her husband Don Edward, whom till she sawe, she thought all their words to be but tales and fables.

CHAP. XLIII.
How the Damosels, hauing cured the wounds of the Knight of Fortune, and the Giant Dramusiande, tooke their leaue and departed to the ancient man againe. And how Don Edward with all the Princes, left the Castle and came to London, where they were royally welcomed by the King Fredericke.

OFtentimes would the Prince Don Ed­ward, with his company of renowned Knights, visite the Knight of Fortune: vn­till at last they had attained such strength, as they could well endure to beare Armor, when hee concluded to abandon the Fore­tresse, but would appoint such a knight to gouernoit, as should render it into his hands, whē he were wil­ling to receiue it. And to Eutropa (albeit her discourteous dea­lings deserued small fauour, her Nephewe being vanquished) hée would giue her another Castle, as well to manifest his no­ble minde, which had the power to pardon her extreame cruel­ty showne to him, as also to cause her leaue that hellish & abho­minable exercise of life: wherein she had not onely vexed him, but a number of Princes of great reputation. This granted, and well estéemed by general consent, the Prince Berolde was appointed to goe giue her knowledge therof: but presently they [Page] heard such a noyse in the Castle, as they supposed it would haue fallen downe on their heads: beside, there arose suddenly such a terrible darkenesse, as they could neither behold one another nor had they power to abide there altogether. At last, in the aire (as they iudged) they heard a gréeuous crie, which sounded in their eares after this manner. Don Edward, seeke not to plea­sure her, who shall requite thy fréendship with great vnthanke­fulnesse, nor labour thy selfe toward her good, whose extreame cruell nature delighteth in thy griefe. I am that Eutropa who all this while hath plagued thée and thy noble friends, and will continue in tormenting thee and thine, vntill this world hath made an end of me. I go now to the place where I shall haue leysure, to forget the iniurie thou hast done vnto me, and power to fulfill my desire in thy continuall vexation.

These words thus ended, and the Aire waxing somewhat cleare againe, they might perceiue the Enchantresse in the Aire, inuironed with a darke and gloomy myst like a cloud, and and how she cut the Aire with a great many fiery flashes about her. When she was departed forth of sight, they remayned in a great amazement: yet being all glad that they were rid of her, who was so ill affected to them.

The Damosels, who by the commandement of the ancient man, had stayed there till the knights were perfectly rerouered, came to the Prince Don Edward, vsing these words.

Good sir, giue vs leaue now to depart: séeing the knight of Fortune, and the Giant Dramusiande, are out of danger, and strong enough to endure the trauaile of their Armour. Trust me Ladies (answered Don Edward) your great courtesies hath so seuerely bound me, that I might be iustly reproached of in­gratitude, to suffer you depart, not vsing such honourable re­compence as you haue well deserued. Neuerthelesse, such is the simplenesse of this place to your worthy desert, and so great af­fection to see you liberally rewarded, that if you would vouch­safe the courtesie, to come to the English Court, or report where I may send to your abiding, what I will do, I leaue to your good opinions to report.

Sir (quoth the Damosels) the vertue which is alway resident [Page] in your noble minde, and fameth your knightly déeds through­out the whole world: that neither Enuy can blot out, nor acci­dent of time haue power to extinguish, so that we may well be estéemed happy, who hath so good a Champion to defend her honour. As for your Princely offer, we find our deserts so simple, as we were loth to presume in place to séeke any re­compence: yet if our presence at London, may either profite you or pleasure your friends, we will be as ready to come, as you can be desirous to wish vs there. But such is now our businesse, that your friends being reduced into their former estate, we must néeds depart, wherfore we desire you to vouche­safe vs leaue.

Ladies (quoth Don Edward) he that should séem to deny you and you not giuing consent thereto, should by his boldnesse with my blood, that would offer them iniury, who haue deserued more then I can say. And therefore when you shall thinke good to depart, you may right willingly, for here is none will gaine you, or that dare deny you. The damosels perceiuing the great humanitie of this gentle Prince, failed not to giue him cour­teous thanks according: so taking their leaue of the Knight of Fortune, with all the other Princes, they went to the gate of the Castle, where they found two Palfrys appointed for them, and being mounted thereon, returned to the place from whence the ancient man brought them.

Don Edward séeing al was in good readinesse, and that Dra­musiande was méetely strong-againe, he offered the castle to the knight of Fortune, who wold not refuse it vpon condition, that from that day forward it might be called the Fort of Fortune: so leauing Pompides there to kéep it, they departed al towards London, accompanied with Dramusiand, bearing the Armour wherein he had combatted against the knight of Fortune.

The Citizens being admonished of the coming of their long lost Priuce Don Edward, gathered themselues in such heapes in the stréets, that the Princes could hardly passe, without hur­ting some of them with their Horses. Some of them preased to sée the Prince Don Edward, because he had bene so long absent from them, other some to sée the giant Dramusiand maruelling [Page] that the knight of Fortune had the power to conqure him, who had subdued so many. Thus passing on, they arriued at last at the Court, where Don Edward casting his eies on the princesse Flerides Chamber, the teares trickled downe his chéekes, re­membring how long time he had bene from thence, and had not séene her, whom he most honoured and intirely loued: but séeing he was come againe at last, and at his gentle behauiour should recompence what had béene amisse, he quieted himselfe, least a­ny should behold his amorous passions.

King Fredericke at the entrance of the Cour, came and re­ceiued them all graciously: giuing them such Princely enter­tainment, as their nobilitie of birth, and hoyourable estate re­quired. Don Edward and Dramusiande, were the last that pre­sented themselues to his Maiestie: where knéeling downe, and humbling himselfe to kisse his hand, the Prince began as fol­loweth.

My Soueraigne Lord and Father, if I either haue, or may find fauour at your highnes hands, then let me not at this time be denied of the same, as to entertaine this Giant, not after the cruell deserts of his Father, but euen as the most curteous and friendly knight in the world. The king imbracing his sonne, re­ceiued him in his armes from the ground: bedeawing his white any heary Beard with aboundance of teares, which through meere loue he shed for the presence of Don Edward, when hée began to answere him in this manner.

What he is my son, who conceiuing so great desire, as I of long time haue to sée you, that could find in his heart, to deny a­ny thing that you should require? Then comming to Dramusi­ande, who endeuoured to kisse his Graces hand, imbracing him in his armes, he thus began.

My intent was not to shewe courtesie to him, that hath béene the cause of my long continuing heauinesse, but the re­port my sonne hath made, of your great bountie and gentle­nesse, hath conquered the extremitie that I once had sworne to vse vnto you, so that hee which would now offer to vexe you any way, should be enemie to me, and so not escape vn­punished.

[Page] The knight of Fortune humbling himselfe in his presence, the King cast his armes about his necke, with this gréeting. My minde did assure me, Sir knight, that the heauy sorrowes I en­dured too long a time, should be ended by the valour of your hau­tie déedes of Armes, who is so welcome to my Grace, as no li­uing creature on the earth could be more.

My soueraigne Lord (answered the knight of Fortune) what I haue done, hath bin thorow Gods appointment, whose power assisting me beyond my desert, haue finished the aduen­ture, which no pollicie could otherwise bring to passe. In honor of this happy victory, they went al to the chiefe Church of Lon­don, where seruice was accōplished with great solemnity, and then returning to the Pallace, the Quéene and the Princesse Flerida, receiued them all with great bounty, the knights vsing such courteous demeanour, as beseemed the roialty of theyr per­sons, being right glad to haue a sight of the fayre Princesse. While Flerida was vsing courtesie to the other knights, the king lead the Quéene to the Prince Don Edward, saying, Ma­dame, behold now your Sonne, for whom you haue wished so long, now may you at leisure make knowne vnto him, the grée­uous passions which for his absence you haue suffered. And I desire you to entertaine these noble Princes, with as great fa­uour as you can any way deuise, for that we are greatly bound vnto them, considering the danger they haue passed, to finde our Sonne Don Edward. Then he shewed her the noble Pri­maleon, to whom she went, embracing him in her armes, and gaue him a swéete kisse for his welcome. The like she did to the Prince Vernar, the king Polendos, Recinde, & Arnedes, with all the Princes and Knights.

Then Flerida comming to her brother Primaleon, imbraced him in her armes, with these wordes. Let it not be offensiue to you my noble brother, that I haue stayed so long, not welcom­ming you as I ought: for sure the glad comming of my Lord Don Edward, made me vnmindful of any other body. Your rea­son Sister is allowed (answered Primaleon) and he that should blame you for it, were not worthy to be estéemed among those that séeme to professe honour and vertue.

[Page] Then the King commanded their lodgings should be presently prouided, which they found in euery point so royally adorned, as they could not speake sufficient in praise of the court of Eng­land. Thus staied they a good while in the English Court, eue­ry one desirous to returne into their owne Dominions, more to set such things in order as their Deputies had failed in, then for any desire they had to leaue the Court of England. But be­cause those whom they left in charge with their kingdomes, had dealt in such order with their subiects, as they were ready to re­bell against their rightfull Prince, therefore they thought, the sooner they departed, in the lesse time they might allay all the troubles againe.

CHAP. XLIII.
How Trineus the Emperour of Allemaigne, hearing of the happy deliuery of the Princes, out of the Castle of Dramu­siande, left the Court, and with the Empresse Agriola, tra­uailed till he arriued in England, where he was very roy­ally and Princely entertained.

REport had blazed in all Countreyes, how the Princes and Knights that had béene so long time lost, and could not he heard off, were now at libertie, and the aduenture of great Brittaine fully ended. Trinens the Emperour of Allemaigne, who had spent his dayes in great sorrowe & grieuous com­plaints for his two Sonnes, Vernar and Polinard, now vn­derstanding that they remained in the English Court, his heart was supprised with so great ioy, that not bewraying his intent to any, hee determined to trauaile, till hee came in­to England. So accompanied with the Empresse Agrio­la, [Page] and such knights as beséemeth his royall estate to haue with him: hée passed thorow Germaine, where, at diuers Cities hée was honourably receiued, & at last landed on the Coast of Eng­land. King Fredericke had knowledge of the comming of the Emperour Trineus, wherefore he commanded the Chamber should be prouided, wherein the Empresse from her childhood had talke with her, at such time as the Emperor Palmerin and he came to present their seruice to the King of England. Many noble Estates prepared to goe meete him, thrée miles from the Citie of London, and the king accompanied with Vernar and Polinard, came to receiue him into the Citie.

But to rehearse vnto you, the royall and gratious entertain­ment they receiued by the king, with the sumptuous and rare deuises, fcamed by the Citizens to welcome him withall, would aske a greater time, then I can well stay so long from discour­sing of our History, but so great was the kings fauour, and so li­berall the expences of his dutifull subiects, that they said within themselues, England had no fellow. When they were come to the Pallace, the Quéene and the Princesse Flerida, being very gorgiously attyred, against the comming of such a great State, receiued him with such royaltie, as is not here to be spoken of. With great honour they were conducted to their Chamber, all retyring backe, except Vernar and Polinard their sons: whom the Empresse commanded to stay with her, because shée had a great desire to talke and conferre with them.

All the knights determined with themselues to prepare some notable shewes of pleasure, wherewith they might delight the minde of the Emperor, that he might perceiue, what losse both Christendome, and their noble Parents should haue had, if for­tune had determined their continuall seruitude to the Giant Dramusiande, and had not wrought the meane to grant them their libertie.

The Emperor and Agriola, passed away the time in pleasant communication, to heare what aduentures their noble Sons had passed, & yet safely to escape such a bitter plunge, for which they both lauded Fortune, and estéemed their age, the happiest [Page] time of their life. Then would he often declare to Agriola, what sharpe assaults he had endured in that chamber, being amorous of her loue, and bestowing his affaires in her seruice: wishing for the time againe, wherein he spent his flourishing youth so valiantly.

But knowing that his desire, was vnpossible to be receue­red, he delighted to rehearse what pleasant cenceits had passed betweene him and her, as well when she was coy, as when she made acceptation of his courtesie, and shewd her the secret pla­ces of danger, which full many a time he made hazard in, when he had desire to speake with her. But n [...]w considering how his ancient time had cut off such amorous drifts as then he put in practise, betwéene teares and pleasant talke, he passed this re­membrance in his silent thoughts, knowing that youth must of force giue place to age, and as then he had pleasure in amo­r [...]us deuises, so new to content his age with ancient discour­ses. And often would he rehearse what strange and rare aduen­tures his sonnes had reported, during the time they sought for the strayed Prince, as also the pleasures of Constantinople: which was a meane to perswade his vrgent passions, and to forsake such complaints as were bootelesse to be rehearsed.

The faire Aurora had no sooner left her old and ancient hus­band, and shewed her bright beames vpon the earth, but that galleries and scaffolds were made about the Tiltyard, where the knights determined to shew the Emperour their valour.

The knights of England and Allemaign, held both one side together, and the Grecian knights maintained the other side: each one behauing themselues with such hautie courage, that the Emperour did assigne them singular commendations. For sometime Fortune maketh cheyre of a weake Champion, and alloweth him to be as aduenturous as the most hardy knight: euen so the weake and strong preuailed so well together, that both sides were praised, aad the noble estates sufficiently plea­sed.

CHAP. XLV.
How Argolant arriued at Constantinople, where in the pre­sence of the Empresse Gridonia, Polinarda, and the faire Bazilia, he declard how the knight of Fortune had deliue­red Don Fdward, Primaleon, and the other captiue Prin­ces, out of the cruell Enchanted castle of Eutropa and Dra­musiande.

ARgolant (who by the commandement of the king of England) was departed on his voyage towards Constantinople, to declare vnto the Emperour Palmerin, the good suc­cesse of his sonne Primaleon, and the other Prince indeuoured himselfe so well in his iourney (thorow the helpe of good wind and weather) that at the last he attained the end of his trauaile. And as he rode through the Citïe, he espied the Emperour among a great many of Souldiours, whose beard was growne so white, with anguish of minde, and his face so wanne by reason of his continuall mourning, that he stood in doubt whether it were the Emperour or no, but that he was certified thereof, by the people which made their recourse thorow the stréetes. Who told him, that report was giuen abroade, how the Soldans of Babylon and Persia, had gathered a mightie Armie, inten­ding to besiege their Cittie, which made the Emperour in his owne person, to goe sée to the fortifying of the walles, that his Rampiers of defence might bée readie to resist the ene­mie, Argolant comming before the Emperour (who pre­sently knew him) alighted, and knéeling downe, humbly kissed his hand, to whom the Emperour thus spake. You may sée Argolant in what necessitie the citie of Constantinople is now vnhappily falne, which in times past, hath vrged me to [Page] the opinion, that neither warres could surplant it, treasons in­uade it, nor any disloyall accident once vse spight against it. But such is the alteration of times, and so vncertaine the fauour of Fortune, that the famous monuments of most honour and an­tiquitie, are as soone subuerted as the weakest defence, so that it remaineth to me to say, which once I could iustly say, I haue béene happy. For such is the danger threatened to our estate, and so doubtfull the mischance that may suddainely annoy vs, as my Subiects stand euery houre in feare of their liues, and my selfe in dispaire of mine own safety. Because I want those, whose names in the eare of mine enemy, hath carried as great estimation of hot resistance, as they now being absent, doe o­uercharge me with a cold comfort. But how fareth thy Soue­raigne Lord, the king of [...]ngland? to demand for other tidings, were as néedelesse, as I suppose them helpelesse.

If it shall like your Highnesse (answered Argolant) the king my Soueraigne and Lord, saluteth your imperiall estate, with all happinesse that he can wish, or you possibly desire, as for my charge, if you will vouchsafe the place, where the Empresse Gri­donia, and the other Ladies may be present, you shall all be cer­tified (I trust) to your contentations. The Emperour at these wordes rode straite to his Pallace, not staying till he came where the Empresse, Gridonia, and the faire Polinarda, were sitting altogether, but Argolant missing Bazilia, wife to the Prince Vernar, began on this wise to intreate the Emperour. Let it not be offensiue to your highnesse, in that I trifle time so long, because I want one here to be partner of my happy ty­dings, which is the faire Bazilia, whose heart (I am right sure) thought the absence of her Lord Vernar too long.

The Emperour supposing there was some glad tydings to­ward, in that they concerned not one alone, but all such as had long time béene oppressed with heauinesse, and knowing like­wise, the Princesse Bazilia would hardly leaue her Chamber: tooke the paines to g [...]e for her himselfe, when being al set down together, Argolant in this manner vttered his Ambassage. As it is not vnknowen to you most mightie Emperour, as also these gracious Ladies, who since that time haue endured no [Page] small oppression of heauy conceits, that at my last being in this place, I brought the vnfortunate report, which caused (as you know ful well) a grieuous mishap, ensuing vpon the losse of our no lesse famous then redoubted Prince Don Edward, which prouoked your noble sonne Primaleon, with a number of vali­ant Princes and Knights of your court, to pursue in his search: So now, I durst not present my selfe, where my former newes caused such griefe, without I might bring those tidings, as shuld (in recompence (cause a mutuall and generall gladnesse: which loath to conceale from you too long, thus it is.

The knight of Fortune, the myrrour of Chiualrie, the onely Lampe and Load-stone, to draw the aduenterous minde to all valiant attempts, as his exploytes in your Court against Flo­raman, who for his fayre Altea, made the onely challenge for the supreame title of beautie, may not onely remaine a witnes, but as a perfect example of all worthinesse, to such as shall ensue after him, for his memory, and their learning. This worthy Champion attempted the aduenture of great Brittaine, where, by the Magique of Eutropa, and might of Dramusiande, (sonne to the Giant Frenaque, whom you slew before your departure forth of England) our Prince Don Edward, your sonne Prima­leon, with a number of Princes and noble Knights, were all this while kept as prisoners, onely to reuenge the death of the aforesaid Giant Frenaque. Wherein he spedde so happily, that (notwithstanding the cruell enchantments, dispersed ouer the whole forrest, and retaining the knights in such a seruitude, as they might doe nothing without the consent of this wicked Eu­tropa) he withstood her helli [...] charmes, the force of her nephew the giant, & fulfilled that hauty attempt, which could be finished by no other. And our Prince Don Edward chancing first in­to this mishap, was appointed to endure the first Iust against all that came: so that through the helpe of two Giants (whom the Knight of Fortune hath valiantly foyled) all the wandring Knights were caught captiue in this Castell. In fine, when this famous Conquerour had found the way to this Fortresse, and behaued himselfe against the resistaance with singular magnanimitie: hée entred the Combate with Dramusiande, [Page] where a bloody and doubtfull fight was presently begun.

The Emperor suddenly staying Argolant at these words, in a maze and great feare put forth this demand. Good Argolant before you procéed any further, resolue me of a doubt, wherein the last report of your discourse hath brought me: know you where as now the knight of Fortune remaineth, and whether he be aliue as yet or no? for if he fare otherwise then well, my state cannot endure without bearing him company: to which Argolant replyed. At such time, my gratious Lord, as I depar­ted from the Realme of England, I left him in such good dispo­sition as himselfe could wish, or your Maiesty desire, when eue­ry one reioyced for the good successe he had against the Gyant Dramusiande.

But may I (quoth the Emperor) vpon your faith and knight heed, assure my selfe of this report? If it may please you my good Lord, answered Argolant, to giue credite to my Message, then beléeue me, that the knight of Fortune is in good estate of health, and hath done what I haue manifested before this ho­nourable assembly. Likewise the Forrest of that disloyall Eu­tropa is subdued from all her Enchantments, so that Don Ed­ward our infortunate Prince, Primaleon your noble Sonne, and all the other captiue Princes, in despite of her and the giant Dramusiande, are reléeued from their long & vnhappy imprison­ment. Then turning to the Princesse Bazilia, he began courte­ously to salute her, as thus. It stood with good reason, faire La­dy, that your presence should be partaker of these happy tidings insomuch as you, I am sure, haue suffered no small afflictions, for the absence of your deare friend the Prince Vernar, whom I can assure you to be in as good health as you can wish: sauing that he is not here, as you could willingly be content, & he him­selfe, as in short time he will, I dare awarrant you.

Gridonia rauished with the report of Argolant, was so sudden­ly ouercome with excéeding ioy, that she caught the Princesse Bazilia in her armes, (either of them cured of one sicknesse) that one could hardly iudge, whether their present gladnesse excelled their passed gréefe, or in what order they receiued these newes, but it sufficeth, they had good cause to be pleasant.

[Page] The Empresse came, and took either of them by the hand, con­ducting them into her Oratorie, where in heartie and solemne deuotions, they gaue thankes to God for this prosperous suc­cesse. In the meane while, the Emperour desired Argolant to rehearse the names of such noble Princes and Knights, as were partners in this long captiuitie, which when he had heard he greatly reioyced that the florishing noble mindes of all Chri­stendome, bare parts of the mishappes of the renowned Eng­lish Prince, a token of their great loue and friendship, in that they disdained not the terrour of such hard misfortune, to beare him company, whom all hautie hearts did honour. And the ra­ther was his ioy the greater, because the knight of Fortune contained the magnanimitie of courage, as (notwithstanding all bitter brunts to threaten the contrary) he was the chosen Champion to accomplish this rare aduenture.

Now he called to remembrance, the letter sent by the La­dy of the Lake, the same day as Polendos king of Thessaly de­liuered him that royall present, as also the message of the Sage Aliart, which had now discouered the full effect of their promi­ses. Through all the Cittie, was presently noysed the recoue­ry of the Grecian Princes, which caused euery one to make small account, of the presumptuous brags of the Soldanes of Babylon and Persia, in that they iudged themselues vnder the surest defence that might be, now they had obtained those, whom they euer estéemed. The Emperour causing Argolant to be brought to his chamber, went straight to the Closet of the Empresse, where he rehearsed all that Argolant had decla­red, as concerning the successe of the knight of Fortune.

Argolant departing on the next morning, was desired by the Emperour, to will the knight of Fortune make hast vnto Con­stantinople, because he had a great desire to sée him. And now ye Emperour with all his court was indued with as great ioy, as he conceiued sorrow at his departure, which he had good cause to do, hauing lost his chéefest defence, in the absence of the Princes and knights, that were kept prisoners in the Castle of Dramusiande, by the accursed meanes of the Enchantresse Eutropa, and now possessing the fréedome of his losse, he might [Page] well estéeme the volour of this hardy knight. But such are the changes and mutabilities of Fortune, who when the heart is drowned in gréefe past any hope, she sendeth a happy successe, to requite the former mischance, and likewise, where most pleas­ure hath continuall residence, there she soonest prouideth the greatest mishap.

CHAP. XLV.
How the English knights and the Grecian knights, in honor of the Emperour Trineus and the faire Agriola, enterpri­sed a braue Tournament, wherein each one behaued him­self very valiantly. And how three strange knights arriued there, whose noble behauiour vrged the royall assembly to great admiration.

EIght dayes after that the Emperour Tri­n [...]us was arriued at Court, the knights a­mong themselues determined a triumph, for which cause, the Tiltyard had many scaffolds and galleries built about it, that they might the better behold this hauty at­tempt. When the Emperour with the fair Agriola, the king Fredericke, the Quéene, the Princesse Fleri­da, Don Edward, Primaleon, with the other noble Ladies and gentlemen of the Court, were come to the place appointed for them to sée this Tournament, the English knights entred the lists, where they meant to manifest the affection they bare to their Ladies, that in honour of their fauours, they feared not to hazard the vttermost of their liues.

After them entred the Grecian knights, euery one brauely mounted, and attired in faire new complete Armour, which [Page] graced with their persons maruellously, the Prince Gracian by their generall consent, was chosen Captaine, to whom they re­ferred the state of their conduct for that day, because Palmerin of England would not enter the Ioust against his friends, left his valour should turne to their disaduantage.

At the sound of the Trumpet they all prepared themselues encountring one another with such knightly courage, that the Estates presents, with such a whole multitude of people, attri­buted great cōmendation to this hardy exployt, for that they dis­mounted one another on either side, as it was doubtfull to say which company were likest of victory.

Gracian ran fiercely against Eutrope of Beltran, an English knight of great strength, and very well estéemed, but For­tune turned her backe towards him that day, so that he could not withstand the knightly puissance of the French Prince. Platir encountred with Normant the Proude, & gaue him such a colde welcome, that they were faine to carry him forth of the field.

In like manner Carlente sped, at the hands of the Prince Berolde, & consequently the English knights (albeit their déeds did iustly merite eternall commendations, both at the Tilte and Tourney) were vrged to the repulse, because the Grecian knights were the stronger side.

Berolde breaking through the rankes, vsing such singular behauiour in all his attempts, as was greatly liked of the Re­gardants, came to Clariball of Hungaria, who setled them­selues stoutly against ech other, that they endured both a dout­full and a dangerous fight, neither hauing the aduantage of the other, but such an equall condition passing betwéene them, as the Emperour with all the royall company were greatly affec­ted therewith.

The king Recinde (albeit the sharpe strokes his Sonne re­ceiued, vrged him to take it some what impatiently) yet the generall applause which was giuen vnto him, constrained him to thinke well of his valiant procéeding. Eutrope came now to the assistance of Clariball, accompanyed with Syr Pridos, Archirin, Lābert, Roquendar, Rugerald, Flocandrisse, Alber­raz, [Page] Lamonstrant, and Brutamont, against whom to maintain the quarrell of the Prince Berolde, came Gracian, Frisol, Luy­man, Onistalde, Dram [...]an, Tenebrant, Don Rousel, and Bazil­liarde, all these behauing themselues very gallantly at Armes: yet at this brunt was too weak, to resist the hot assaults of the valiant English Princes, which was stil maintained with fresh supply of noble minds.

They being in some doubt to gaine the ouerthrow, suddenly entred the field, Platir, Floraman, Francian, Germaine of Orle­ance, Vernar, Polinard, with others, so that as then began the brauery of the fight, which, as it was well worthy, past not without notable praise, and the English Knights came still a­fresh to fiercely on them, that the Greciā Knights were through néere constraint vrged to retire.

But behold, on a sudden, to aide the Grecian Princes, there entred thrée strange Knights very brauely mounted: the first of them bearing in his shield on a groūd of sand, the God Satur­ [...]us, compassed about with Starres: the second had for his de­uise, in a gréene field, the Image of the House of Sadnes: the [...]hird would not haue his Shield knowne, and therefore bare it couered.

These thrée séeing how the English Knights preuailed mar­uellously in their resistance, couched their Speares, and ran a­mong the thickest of them, whom to the great danger of both sides began a fierce battaile, so that Vernar, Tremoran, Tene­ [...]rant and others, were faine to be carried out of the field, they were so sore wounded.

In like manner were diuerse of the English side, till the Re­ [...]eite was sounded, when the Prince Gracian with his compa­ny retired into his Campe, and the English Knights conducted the Emperour and the King into the Pallace, where sweet mu­sicke, and other delightfull exercises, ioyned them all friends in their former vnity. [Page] [...] [Page] [...]

CHAP. XLVII.
How the three Knights that came to the Tournament, were knowne to be the Knight of the Sauage man, the Sage A­liart of the Obscure Valley, and Blandidon. And how Ali­art discouered in the presence of all the Princes, how Pal­merin of England, and Florian of the Forrest, were the sonnes of the noble Don Edward, and the Princes Flerida: for proofe whereof, he brought the Sauage man, and his wife (who had nourished the two young Princes so long in their Caue) into their presence, by whom this great ioy was fully confirmed.

WHen the Triumph was ended, and the Em­perour with King Fredericke returned into the Pallace, the Tables were ready prepa­red, when immediately they sate downe to take their repaste, being sei [...]ed in such hono­rable and comely order, as the princes were greatly in loue with the court of England. Against supper was done, the King gaue in charge, that the Knights should prepare themselues to the dancing: which done, a sumptuous Banquet should presently be serued on the tables.

The Dancing and the Banquet finished, and they sitting pleasantly ieasting one with another, they entred the Hall the thrée Knights, who had behaued themselues so brauely in the Tournament. Many desired to come néere them, because they would know of whence they were: but to hinder their intents, such a mist on a sudden arose in the Hall, as the lights were dim­med, the Torches burned very scarcely, and the Ladies being dismaied, caught their Knights in their Armes.

To put them out of this feare, the mist departed, and the Hall [Page] was as cleare as it was before, when straight way they beheld in the middest, a Lion and a Tiger enduring a great fight toge­ther, and to set them at vnitie, there entred a faire Damosell with a golden rod in her hand, wherewith she touched them both, and they humbled themselues at her féet. This done, shee departed, and they arose againe in the forme of two fierce and vntamed Bulles, which caused such an astonishment to all the beholders, that they wished themselues to be foorth of the Hall. But the Knights séeing their Ladies so greatly discouraged, per­swaded them that it was but some deuise, artificially prouided for the delight of the Emperour: but they would hardly beléeue them, because the two Bulles fought so vehemently the one a­gainst the other, and being ouercharged with wearines of fight, fell to the ground, breathing from their mouthes an horrible and ougly blacke smoke, as was before.

The Hall auoided of all these accidents, and in the same e­state it was at first, they might behold that thrée Knights, with their heads vnarmed, so that he, who would not haue his shield known, was found to be the gentle Knight of the Sauage man: who presently went to the king, and kneeling downe, kissed his hand, with these words. My gracious Soueraigne, I earnestly intreate at your hands, this Knight may receiue the courteous entertainement, your Grace will afford him at my request, for this is the Sage Aliart, your Maiesties most affectionate seruant, to whom your griefe hath been so displeasant, that he thought himselfe not in perfect quietnesse, till he might manifest his humble deuoite to your Grace.

King Fredericke, who had often heard report of the Sage A­liart, by reason of the renowne and fame, was spred abroad of him, stoode in a doubt how it should bee hée, because his youth­ful yeeres was much vnlikely to embrace so great cunning and learning, as was euery where famed of him: neuerthelesse, gi­uing credit to the Knight of the Sauadge man, hée embraced him with these salutations. Certainely, sir Aliart, I am bound in duty to make good account of you, as well for your vertu­ous dealings, which doth iustly deserue it, as also for bringing me my Fatherlesse Knight, inso sound and good disposition of [Page] health, wherein you haue not onely honoured me, but likewise approoued the vnspotted faith of your Knighthood.

My gracious Lord (answered Aliart) the desire I haue to manifest the loialtie of my seruice, vrgeth me to this opinion that might I liue neuer so long, I could not accomplish so much as duty doth require in me, respecting the great friend­ship, I haue found at your Graces hand vndeserued. But ma [...] I vnder your Soueraigne pardon, presume to disclose so great a secrete, as shall both content your Highnesse, as also this il­lustrious assembly? The King supposing some glad tydings toward, requested all the Princes to vouchsafe their audience when being euery one quietly placed to their owne content, Aliart humbling himselfe to the Princesse Flerida, began as followeth.

Madame, it were hard for me to distinguish, betwéene your extreame griefes passed, and the swéete solace you enioy at this present: for albeit, this is to be thought beyond comparison, yet in time when you were heauie, your wofull complaints were equally as vehement, as they that were priuie to their aduerse case, could easily beare with the vrgent cause. But referring long discourse of matter, you are to estéeme your selfe highly honoured, by this no lesse hauty then happy, and famous Knight of Fortune, who for your sake hath suffered the an­noiance of paine, in recompence of the dangerous trauaile you sustained for him, at such time as you were deliuered of two Children in the vnfortunate Forrest, when your Lord had left you. For when the Sauage man had taken him, and this redoubted Knight, your Sonne Florian, his Brother, to sa­crifice them to the rauenous iawes of his gréedy Lions, pittie so pierced the heart of his poore and louing wife, that shée saued them from the bloody slaughter, and nourished them as carefully, as she did this other, who is her owne Childe. And Madam, let not be forgotten the wordes sir Pridos rehearsed vnto you, (at such time as you had lost both husband and children) which was reported to him by the Ladie Argonida: for loe at this instant her promise is accomplished, your noble Lord Don Ed­ward is restored, and your two lost sonnes safe and sound reco­uered, [Page] whose Knightly valure, hath sufficiently discharged the sorrowe, that then your afflicted person suffered. The Knight of Fortune, is your Sonne Palmerin, to whom you gaue that name, in honour of the Emperour Palmerin, your Father, who by the meanes of the Knight Polendos, receiued your son into his Court, when he likewise caused him to be tearmed by his owne name.

And this aduenturous knight of the Sauage man, is your o­ther Sonne, which according to the place of his birth, you called him Florian of the Forrest, him haue you nourished & brought vp by your motherly care, albeit he was knowen to you for no other then a straunger. Thus to knit vp your former ioy, I thought good to presume so farre, as to make you partners of that, which was not knowen to any, but onely God and my selfe.

The Princesse Flerida, and Don Edward wel viewing one an other, were suddenly rauished with such an inward ioy, as it is impossible for me to giue iudgement thereon: then Palmerin and Florian came & imbraced each other, which moued the king and all there present vnto such delight, that they could not con­ceale the great pleasure they conceiued, whereupon the king en­tred into these words.

Trust me Syr Aliart, these newes were altogether vnlookt for at this present, albeit they haue béene earnestly desired long before this time, but yet doe me the fauour, to certifie me how you are assured of that which you haue giuen foorth for a mani­fest troth, it may be, here are some that dare hardly aduenture to beléeue it. If I should my good Lord (answered Aliart) fable in such a case. I were well worthy such seuere punishment as is due to him that should falsely informe a Prince. But neuer­thelesse, to giue you the better assurance thereof, marke what shall ensue, and then answere how you are satisfied.

Then drewe hée foorth a little Booke, whereon hauing read a prettie while, the Sauage man and his Wife entred the Hall, who had nourished Palmerin and Florian so long in theyr Caue, when presently the two Princes beholding them, went and imbraced them both with great courtesie, the [Page] the like did Siluian, who hauing learned more ciuility in court, then when he remained with his Father in the Caue (knéeled downe vnto them as was his duetie. The Princesse Flerida receiued such excéeding ioy, that shée imbraced them both very louingly: and Palmerin thinking it great dishonour to him, to be vnmindfull of his nurses that had vsed him so gently, tooke them by the hand, and brought them before the King: giuing him to vnderstand, that they twain had deserued a good reward, in recompence of the great affection his Brother & he had found at their hands.

The King taking them from the ground in his armes, pro­mised that their labour should be honorably rewarded: so lifting his eyes vp to heauen, he vttered his ioy in this manner. O hea­uenly Father, this is the last good happe that euer I desired to sée, wherefore now if it be thy pleasure, take me out of this miserable world, before vnconstant Fortune determine any more mischance to me. This done, he tooke his two Nephews, and brought them to the Princesse Flerida, before whom they humbled themselues on their knées, kissed her hand a great ma­ny times, and she casting her armes about their necke, in teares remembred the great danger she saw them both in, when they endured the bloody Combate, at such time as shee was faine to set them at vnitie.

Then Don Edward their noble Father, in remembrance of the valiant behauiour, he had séene in them both at the Castle of Dramusiande, receiued them in his armes, with such courte­ous gréetings on either part, as the ioy in such a case did vrge them to manifest.

The Emperor Trineus, a partaker of this Fortunate sight, came to both the Princes, and vsed many friendly spéeches to them, in like manner did the Empresse Agriola, the Kings Recinde and Arnedes, with all the Princes and Ladies, whose ioyes were not small for this happy successe. Then Palmerin vsed great courtesie to the Prince Primaleon, for that he vnder­stood him to be father of his Lady and Mistresse Polinarda, and Sonne to the Emperor his Grandfather, who had vouchsaued him his honour, dnring the time he remained in his Pallace [Page] at Constantinople. The Sauage man and his Wife were very graciously entertained, who séeing the two Princes in dignity, beyond their expectations when they were in their Caue, did greatly reioyce that Fortune had so fauourably preserued their noble liues. Palmerin séeing the time that euery one prepared themselues to their chambers, commanded Siluian to conduct his father and mother, to a faire and rich Chamber which was prouided for them. Euery one departing, the king accompany­ed Aliart to his Chamber, where he desired to know, what the other knight was that came in his company? If it please your Grace (answered Aliart) to morrow morning you shall be re­solued to the vttermost, in the meane space assure your selfe that he is such a one, as his valour deserueth to be remembred amongst the most renowned. Thus with a generall gladnesse, euery one went to take their rest, forgetting all gréefe that was passed before in remembrance of the fortunate successe, that had happened at this instant determination of ioy.

CHAP. XLVIII.
How on the morrow, Blandidon was knowne, and Aliart be­wraied himselfe and Pompides, to be the Sonnes of the Prince Don Edward & Argonida the Lady of enchāted the Isle. And how the Emperour Trineus with the other Prin­ces, determined to depart from the Court of England, but were desired first to goe see Castle of the Giant Dramusi­ande, wherein the Princes had remained Prisoners so long time.

THe pleasures in the Court of the aged King of England, of the Prince Palme­rin, and Don Florian his Brother, that the Cittizens passed away the night merrily, in making of great Bonefires & ringing of Bels, to manifest the ioy which they likewise conceiued for this happy ac­cident. [Page] In the morning the king went to the chamber of the two Nephewes, where he found Primaleon and the Prince Vernar, merrily disposing themselues together: and so accom­panied with Arnedes and Recinde, they went to the chamber of the Emperour Trineus, who béeing already stirring, prepared themselues to go heare diuine Seruice, which was accompli­shed with maruailous great solemnitie. When they returned vn to the Pallace, such was the assembly of people to sée the two Princes, that they could hardly ascend the staires to the great hall, the people were gathered into such a prease.

The strange Princes endcucured themselues to entertaine the Sage Aliart very honourably, so that from the hightest to the lowest he was greatly made account of, insomuch as euery one thought his labour well imployed to do him seruice, and euery one were desir [...]us to question with him, how Don Florian was guarantized of his wounds, which he had receiued at the Castle of Dramusiande. When dinner was ended, they went all to the chamber of the Empresse Agriola, with whom the Quéene and the Princesse Flerida had dined: and the king de­siring silence when they were all placed, began in this order to the Sage Aliart.

Let it not séeme displeasant vnto you good Sir, that I pre­sume to remember you of a promise made yester-night, as also to deliuer me from a doubt that I haue conceiued of your selfe, which is (if I may request so much fauour) to tell me of whence you are, because the great cunning and science, I haue heard to be in you, doth argue you are discended of some noble linage. To which demand Aliart presently returned this answer. I was determined (déere Soueraigne) neuer to bewray my selfe to auy: but since your Maiestie hath commanded me, whose words are more of force to compell me, then any prince or po­tentate may or can constraine me, I will certifie you of that, which neither friend nor foe could yet get of me. This knight whose name you are desirous to know, is called Blandidon as concerning his birth and Parentage, the Prince Florian can at large giue you to vnderstand, for which cause I will [Page] passe no furder to discouer what he is. But as touching my self, this knight here named Pompides, and my selfe are Brethren, both of vs the sonnes of the Prince Don Edward, and Argo­nida, the Lady of the Enchanted Isle, as hath béene affirmed to vs by the oath of diuerse.

Don Edward sitting by his beloued Flerida, & loath to con­ceale any thing that might profite in this case, humbling him­selfe to the King his Father, began as followeth. Deare father, what Sir Aliart hath deliuered to your Grace, I must and will auouch to be most true, they are both my Sonnes, wherefore I desire you to entertaine them as your Nephewes. And my swéete Flerida, let it not séene as disliked of you, because it was long before I entred acquaintance with you: and such were the craftie deuices Argonida vsed with me, that what with perill of my life, and the pleasure I had also in her company, these twaine are the fruits of our long familiar labours.

The King came to them, aud imbraced them very louingly, when presently Florian (at his instant request) declared the hautis Exploytes and Knightly déedes, hée had both tryed and found in the noble Blandidon. Flerida forgaue her Lord Don Edward this offence, smyling at the subtill inuentions Argoni­da vsed, to gaine the desire she bare to the English prince, when immediately Aliart and Pompides came and submitted them­selues to her, whom shée welcommed as hartily, as had they béene her owne children, and so continued pleasantly talking with them, till time required they should depart to their Cham­bers.

Palmerin of England held y Sage Aliart in great estimation, when he perceiued he was allyed to him in kindred, so that al­together he framed his delight to be in his company, and would not attempt any thing, but he should be priuie to it. The Tri­umphes and sumptuous feastes continued daily aboundantly, and euery night there was Marking, Dauncing, & rare deuises put in execution: so that the Grecian Knights, highly honoured the Ladies of England, whose braue gesture of Courtly enter­tainement, was not onely estéemed of them, but as much com­mended (at their returne) in the Court of Constantinople.

[Page] After a long continuance of this excéeding ioy, Arnedes and Recinde concluded to depart to their kingdomes, leauing their sonnes to accompany the other Princes in their pleasure: which the Emperour perceiuing, determined to iourney towards Al­lemaigne also. But when they prepared themselues to take their leaue, Don Edward and the other Princes, desired them to vouchsafe the paines, to sée the Castle of Dramusiande, wherein so long time they had béene kept as prisoners. This request pleased the Emperor very well, so that he desired Arne­des and Recinde to beare him company also, and then they would depart together. Intreaty had quickly wonne them, so that on the morrow they departed themselues thither, accom­panied with the Ladies and Gentlemen of the English Court, who greatly longed to sée the Castle so much spoken off, that had caused great Brittaine to stand in such feare, and by the prowesse of the Noble Palmerin, was brought into subiection.

CHAP. XLIX.
How the Emperour Trineus, the King of England, with all the Princes and Ladies, rode towards the Castle of Dra­musiande, where by the way, they saw the Caue of the Sa­uage man, wherein the two Princes had beene so long time nourished. And how all the way as they rode, the Sage Aliart presented them with many rare and braue de­uises, vntill such time as they arriued at the Castle. Where they met with a strange knight, who in honor of the beau­tie of his Lady Miragarda, Iusted with diuers of the Prin­ces, and departed againe from thence, vnknowne to any but the Sage Aliart, who discouered to Palmerin of Eng­land his name, and whence he was.

[Page] IN the morning, the Knights, who had be­haued themselues so worthily in the tri­umph, prouiding them of new and rich Ar­mor, made great haste, because they would bee ready to goe with the Giant Drausi­ande, onely because they would gratifie their Ladies, in bearing them company to sée this Castle. At their departure foorth of London, the King by sound of Trumpet and Heralde, caused them to be proclai­med, that no Citizens should offer to follow them, because hée had determined (being so many of themselues) that none should enter the Castle, but the Ladies and the Knights. For that night hée concluded to lye in the Forrest, and therefore sent such prouision of Tents and Pauillions, that when they were ar­riued there, they found euery thing to their owne content­ment.

The Princesse Flerida, was desirous to sport her selfe about the Forrest, and walking By the place, where shée had suffered the extreame panges of her trauayle, the Sauage man came and humbled himselfe vnto her, declaring how in that place he tooke the two Princes from her, and nourished them in his Coue, which was néere adioyning. On this report, the knights were desirous to sée his Caue, so taking leaue of the Princesse, they walked with him thither: where, after Primaleon, Maior­tes, and the Soldane Bellagris, were entred, they began euery one to be greatly amazed, séeing this Caue to containe so large a breadth and length: which made them suppose it to be in man­ner an intricate De dalus. All about on the walles was hanged Tapistrie, not of Gold, Silke, Caddis, or such maner of stuffe, but the skinnes of Beastes, which the two Princes had slaine, very finely laboured into an artificiall frame, and so decked foorth the Chambers, that the Knights marueyled in so desart a place, to finde such a fayre dwelling. A great while they stood debating with one another, about the strange conceyts they perceiued in this Caue, which made them to iudge, that in [Page] times past, it had béene the solitary dwelling of some noble man exiled from his Countrey, but therein they were greatly decey­ued. For this ancient edifice, was erected by the Enchantresse Mellia, who kept that place a great while, during the raigne of the king Armace her Brother, Vrganda and she liued both at one time, as it is rehearsed in the History of the Emperour Splandian, Sonne to the valiant & most magnificient king A­madis, and the Princes Oriana his Wife, Quéene of the great Brittaine. When the Princes and knights had satisfied their mindes in beholding this place, they returned to the Pauilli­ons to their Ladies, who welcommed them all very louingly, and Primaleon sitting downe by his sister Flerida, rehearsed to her the manner of the Caue where the two Princes were nou­rished, which did not a little content her minde, in that the place was not ruinated and put into obliuion. This night they reposed themselues in the Forrest, as honourably serued, as if they had béene in the English Court, and in the morning they prepared themselues towards the Castle, being all the way de­lighted with such fiue deuises, sent by the cunning of the Sage Aliart, that euery one tooke great pleasure in this Princely iourney. There were Hunters who pursued wilde Bores, Harts, Bucks, and all such noble game, and came wearily, fal­ling downe at the Ladies feete, but when they offered to touch them, they were presently skipping on the farder side of the Ri­uer, these deuises so pleased the Emperor with all the company, that they gaue great thankes to Aliart who frequented them with such pleasant pastime al the way as they rode. At last, they arriued at the Valley of Perdition, where they had a sight of the Castle of Dramusiande, which went somewhat to the heart of the Princesse Flerida, séeing the prison wherein her louing Don Edward had so long remained. The Emperour Trineus, & king Frederick, fel into great commendation of the sumptuous buil­ding of the Castle, then which, they had not often séene a fayrer: which mooued thē to intreate Dramusiande, who was the foun­der of such a singular péece of workmanship: to which demand, Dramusiande presently gaue this reply. My gratious Lords, this Castle was first builded by mine Aunt Eutropa, & through [Page] her meanes, it hath remayned thus long out of knowledge. Trust me (said the Emperour Trineus) a Fortresse of such strength and beautie, ought not to be in the hands of one, who could imploy it to such great abuse, but commonly we sée, the wicked do thriue as well as the good, and enioyas great account in this world, as they that maintaine all their actions by iustice and equitie. So riding on, at last Dramusiande willed them to a suddaine stay, where he began in this manuer to vnfold the cause. Me thinks I sée at the entrance of the Bridge, a séemly Knight ready appointed to the Ioust, but I can perceiue no body that offereth him resistance, which maketh me supose, that he hath attempted to kéepe this passage. At this vnlooked for accident, they stayed to behold the Knight who was very well mounted on a gray Courser, his Armour spotted with white and blacke, which greatly pleased the eyes of the behol­ders. In his shéeld he ba [...]e the naked body of a Lady, the beauty of whose countenance was so excellently figured, that Altea (for whom Floraman accomplished such chiualricus déeds at Con­stantinople) might not séeme to offer comparison to this beau­tifull spectacle, neither the faire Princesse Polinarda, might not presume to equall her selfe, with the braue shape of this Lady, and at the lower end of this shéeld in letters of Gold was writ­ten Miragarda.

While Princes occupied their eyes in beholding the sin­gular forme compacted in his shéeld, they perceiued his Esquire come towards them, who after he had done his dutie to them all, began to salute them with these protestations. Faire Lords and Ladies, the noble knight my Maister, whom you behold on the Bridge, by me giueth you to vnderstand, the cause of his trauailes vnto this place. He is of a far countrey, from whence he had aduentured himselfe (in honour of his good fortune, and at the command of his Lady, whose humble seruant he remay­neth at this houre) to try his knighthood at this Castle, which hath béene blazed abroad to be most infortunate.

But being here arriued, he is aduertised how the Enchant­ment is fully finished, and the strength of the Giant Dra­musiande, with all his retinew conquered, by the valour and [Page] hautie Prowes of a knight named Palmerin of England, who hath deliuered the Princes, that were kept Captiue by the cruell meanes of the disloyall Eutropa, which newes are most welcome vnto him, in that he desired nothing more. Yet for that he is loth to returne to his Lady, being at the place where knighthood hath bene tryed, and he to passe backe againe not approued of any: he craueth to enter the Ioust with such as are disposed, referring the Combate of the Sword, because he will aduenture for pleasure.

This challenge encreased such courage in the knights, that they entred into strife who should first runne with the strange knight, which the king perceuing, returned the Esquire with this answer. My friend, tell thy Lord his enterprise is wor­thy perpetuall renowne, & if he containe such courage in proofe, as both his Message and himselfe giueth in show, his Lady shall haue occasion to vse him, according as his valiant attempt deserueth. The Esquire receiuing the kings pleasure, retur­ned to his Lord, to whom he had no sooner made it knowne, but Tremoran shewed himselfe before the bridge, inuiting the strange knight to the Ioust, who stayed not to accomplish his desire, but encountring him with such a pleasant charge, that Tremoran was forced to leaue his saddle.

This chance somewhat displeased Luyman of Burgondie, who thinking to reuenge the repulse of Tremoran, was sent himselfe to kéepe him company. Belcar being desirous to shew his prowesse among the young Knights, couched his Speare against the strange Knight, who sent both Horse and man to the ground, when presently Don Rosuell tooke the cause in hand, and was made pertaker of the same mishap.

In like manner Guerin, Frisol, Blandidon, Floraman, & di­uers other were serued, which moued the King Polendos vnto such choller, that he would haue ventured against the strange Knight, had not the prince Don Edward perswaded him to the contrary. Then there went a great murmuring amongst the knightes, who supposed the Sage Aliart had brought this Champion by his Art. to be a disgrace vnto all their attempts, and that he had vsed such meanes vnto him, as he might not be [Page] vanquished, but herein they greatly deceiue themselues, for it was onely the noble force of the knight, which was continually animated, by beholding the faire face of his Ladie, which was so brauely proportioned in his shield. Floraman being greatly bent against the Knight, and beléeuing that his victorie, procée­ded from the beauty of his Lady, would once more put his For­tune in hazard, thinking the feature of his faire Altea, to be as soueraigne in authoritie, as the strange Miragarda, wherevp­on he thus began to conferre with himselfe.

Albeit Madame, I haue suffered your name to be absent a while from my thoughts, yet hath your beautie bene alwayes extant in my memory, so that I neuer vowed the title to any but you, although mishap would haue vrged me to the contrary. Wherefore, at this time let your beautie so fauour me, that I may foyle mine enemy, in the perfect honour of your fame.

Then they encountred one another againe couragiously, pas­sing the first course with the breake of the Staffe: but at the second time, Floraman and his Stéede was throwne to the ground very violently, when making recourse to his former secrete spéeches, be began as thus. I perceiue now Altea, that my misfortune chanceth thorow your froward opinion of mée, and that the more I attempt in your honour, the more you re­pay me still with hatred, which will vrge me to forsake your seruice, and neuer assay any thing hereafter on warrant of your courtesie.

The Emperour Trineus and all the Princes, were very sad to behold the sorrowe of Floraman, as also to sée Onistalde and Pompides reduced into like mischance: whereat the strange Knight triumphed, which Don Florian stomaking, to see his friends on euery side foyled, and the Knight to vant himselfe in such sort, giuing a Conge to the Empresse and her Ladies, ranne violently against the strange Knight. Thrée times they met, yet neither preuayling against the other, when the strange Knight looking on his Shielde, and perceyuing the faire face of his Lady, to be somewhat raised with the Speare, began in this order to talke to himselfe. Now can I execute my selfe of the dishonour I haue receiued, in suffering her faire [Page] face to be polluted, to whom I owe most dutifull affection? for neither can I preuaile against him that hath done it, nor endure long the Combate, I am so attached with sorrow.

At the fourth attempt, they met so furiously together, that they were both layde along on the earth, when because the night approched so fast on, Palmerin could not compasse the meane to enter the Iust, which made him suppose hée should displease his fayre Polinarda, but Aliart to put him from that opinion, he came to him with these wordes. Good Syr, let it not séeme offensiue to you, because you haue not Iusted with this Knight, for if your valoure should returne him any disaduantage, your Lady and Mistresse would thinke great vngentlenesse in you. I thanke you Syr Aliart (answered Palmerin) for your courte­ous perswasion, in wishing me from that which might be my hurt, albeit vnknowen vnto me, yet by your Arte made mani­fest to you. But may I request the name of his knight, where­in you may make mee greatly beholding to you, as also it will cause me vse more circumspection in mine attempts, wherein I onely desire to escape the anger of my Lady Polinarda, to which question, Aliart shaped this reply.

Your courtesie is such, and so great in mine affection, that I cannot conceale the thing, which may doe you pleasure, where­fore you shall vnderstand, that this knight is named Florendos, who putteth his noble déedes in proofe, for the honour of her, whose Image you may perceiue figured on his Shielde euen as you hazard all your actions, to purchase the fauour of her who is your Lady, and his Sister. At these words Palmerin imbraced Aliart, giuing him hartie thankes, in that he had sa­tisfied his earnest desire, which he vowed to kéepe secrete, and not discouer to any.

Don Florian being mounted on Horsebacke againe, was somewhat offended, that he had receiued no better successe a­gainst the strange knight, whom he perceiued with his Esquire, ryding away in great hast, as loath to be knowne, because he had not sped according to his hauty desire, for which cause hee departed in no small sorrowe.

CHAP. L.
How after the strange knight was departed, Sage Aliart be­wraied to them the faire Miragarda. And how they entred the Castle of Dramusiande, which Palmerin gaue againe to the giant his friend: who in his honour caused it to bee called the Inuincible Fort of Fortune. Departing from thence, Aliart brought them to his Castle in the Obscure Valley: where he shewed them many rare and strange de­uices, from whence the kings, Recinde and Arnedes, (ta­king their leaue of the Emperour, and the king of Eng­land) departed home into their countries. And how in a while after the Emperor and the Princes iourney from the court of England, when as Don Edward discouered to Soldane Bellagris that Blandidon was his sonne, begotten on the sorrowfull Lady Pandritia.

THe strange knight being very spéedy in his departure, the Emperour with the other Princes, ceassed not to commend his re­doubted enterprise, greatly desiring to know what he was, which made them ve­ry importunate so the Sage Aliart, but they laboured in vaine, for he would not in this matter satisfie their desire.

But to the Prince Primaleon hee told in secret, that hée was a personage of great authoritie, whose valour was excel­lent, and his vertue equally thereto apparant: and that the [Page] Ladie whose Portraite he vsed in his Shéeld (to whom he bare such affection, as he would in nothing disobey her will) causeth him to absent himselfe from the company of all other, till hée haue attained that title which his Lady desireth, and himselfe deserueth. And to satisfie his Ladies pleasure, he hath ventu­red his life to arriue at this place, thinking the aduenture of Dramusiande to be reserued for him: but when he perceiued it was already finished by the Prowesse of the knight, to whom he voweth his humble seruice, he could not with his honour but proffer you the Ioust, to cause you know both his bountie and courage is sufficient, to haue enterprised such a hautie and pecil­lous aduedture.

Then Don Eward desired him to shew the name of the Da­mosell, to whom he had vowed such earnest affection, whose will Aliart loth to gaine say, beganne in this order to answer his request. The Lady to whom this Knight hath vowed his seruice, is named of euery one the faire Miragarda, whose face if any would take occasion to contempleate, should behold the perfect, rare and substantiall Image of only beauty. As con­cerning her birth, she is daughter to the Countie Arla [...], and of great authoritie in the dominion of Spaine, whose singuler forme when this knight had beheld, he could not chuse but thrust himselfe among the pykes of hazard, insomuch as none that hath seene her, could withdraw their effections, but haue aduentured limme and life for her, who is beyond any in com­parison.

Trust me (said the king Recinde) I haue bene well acquain­ted with the County himselfe, but as for such exquisite perfec­tion to remaine in his daughter, I neuer before this time could gaine the knowledge: for indéede when I left the kingdome of Spaine, she was so litle that none did make account of her beau­tie. Then alighting from their horses, and taking their Ladies each one by the hand, they entred the Castle of Dramusiande, so greatly delighted with the sumptuous building, and braue conueyance of the commodious places, the galleries and cham­ber made ouer such little fine Brookes and Riuers, that they [...]magined all their commendations not sufficient for this place [Page] Dramusiande endeuoured himselfe for their entertainment, ac­cording as the time of the yéere, and their suddaine comming would permit him, but in such good order was euery thing disposed, with fine, neate and excellent quicke dispatch, that the Princes were very well pleased, and Dramusiande according­ly thanked.

On the next morning they concluded to depart from thence, because the Princesse Flerida was become somewhat sickly, when Palmerin deliuered the Castle againe to Dramusiande, who both in reuerence of his worthinesse, and memorie of his owne good lucke, called it the Inuincible Force of Fortune. De­parting thence, the Sage Aliart conducted them the way to his habitation, frequenting them still with such singuler deuises, that the Ladies by their weake nature were somewhat dis­maied, but the Princes themselues maruellously delighted.

When they were arriued at the Obscure Valley they behold the Castle of the Sage Aliart, which was so ingeniously edified, and strengthened so sure by his industrie, that if I should stay to recite their opinions hereon, I should weary your minds with a tedious discourse. There they stayed for the space of foure dayes, hauing such royall seruice by the meanes of Aliart, that they supposed in their owne Courts, it was vnpossible to bee more Princely serued.

Arnedes and Recinde desirous to their owne Kingdomes, tooke their leaue of the Emperour and all the company, the one taking the way towards France, & the other towards Spaine, hauing no body with them, but ech one an Esquire attending on him, as for their Sonnes, they left them still with the other Princes, for that their yeares were more fit to endure trauaile then as yet to incline themselues to the ease of the world.

Then returned the Emperor and king Frederick, with the rest of their traine to the English Court, where in a while af­ter the Emperour and the faire Agriola tooke their leaue like­wise, when was such greefe on either side for their departure, as because your iudgements is sufficient conceiue, I ceasse to speake of the Soldane Bellagaris and Maiores, hauing kissed the hands of the king Fredericke, came & embraced the prince [Page] Don Edward, for whose sake they had left their Countries, to be partners in his imprisonment, when the Prince accompa­nying them part of the way, began in this order to the Soldane Bellagris. I trust Syr you are not of so base memory, but you remember the pleasure, that vnder colour of my name, you re­ceiued with your your Sister in Law Pandritia, in the realme of Lacedemonia, which for the Ladies cause, I cannot admit into obliuion, your labours being growne to such a knightly issue. Assure your selfe that this knight named Blandidon is your sonne, which vntill this time I haue kept in secret, yet thought to discouer it to you when time and place required, be­cause you should amend the default of your faith, passed vnder supposition of my selfe. Wherfore you brother being long since dead, and her people sorowfull at her austere kinde of life, you shall manifest your honour to espouse her at last, beside, you shall enioy a Princesse of excellent beautie, and a Sonne high­ly estéemed for his knightly bountie. Bellagris paused hereon a prettie while, debating in his minde on the qualitie of his enterprise, which he supposed to craue a déeper iudgement, then the remembrance of his offence which was done past, at last hauing remained mute for a good space, he required the Prince Don Edward with this answer. Credite me Sir, I was ne­uer more amazed at any thing, which either Fortune hath sent me by mischance, or mine owne folly by accident, then at this report which you haue vouchsafed to disclose, being as farre from my thought, as I am from my natiue Country. Neuer­thelesse, I make such estimation of Blandidon, that I accompt my selfe happy to haue such a Sonne, and for the affection I beare to him, I wil accomplish that, which else I neuer thought to haue done, and hereupon I bid you hartily farewell, vow­ing to send you word of my procéeding, so shortly as possible I may.

Thus departed the Soldane Bellagris and Maiortes accom­panied with Polendos, Belcar, and Vernar, whom the loue of his faire Bazilia called home to Constantinople. Shortly after the Prince Primaleon left, he English Court, trauailing alone by himseife without any company because hee meant to trie [Page] the aduentures, that Fortune could any way present vnto him, not sparing his person, but would ieopard himselfe in the places of most perill and danger. Knowing very well, that the life and loyalty of the couragious, ought to be imploied in their defence, whom misaduenture kept in restraint, or the terror of the time in any sorrowfull seruitude.

CHAP. LI.
How Primaleon, being departed from the Court of Eng­land, arriued in the Realme of Lacedemonia, where he in­tended to visite the sorrowfull Lady Pandritia. And how in the Tristfull Valley, he met with the Knight, who beha­ued himselfe so well in the Iust before the Castle of Dra­musiande, on the behalfe of the beautie of his Lady Mira­garda, hauing giuen himselfe the name of the Knight. Where they twaine entred into a dangerous Combate, till Pandritia and her Ladies, were faine to come and set them at vnitie, and how Primaleon had the knowledge, that it was his sonne Florendos.

PRimaleon hauing left the English Court, and be taken himselfe to the honour of good Fortune, made little stay in any place, till hee arriued in the Kingdome of Lace­demonia, where not forgetting his last conference with the sorrowfull Lady Pan­dritia, as touching the manner of her soli­tarie and Sauage kinde of life, he conclu­ded to visite her againe, to try if shée continued in her former constancie.

[Page] Because some, either vpon mallice or misbeliefe, haue reported the conditions of women, to be lincked to vnconstancie, and that no certaintie might be reposed in any of their dealings: but if they wept, it was for wantonnesse, if they smilde, for subtilty, so that their teares was as full of treason, as their pleasant con­ceyts, mired with spightful attempts. Which opinion Gentle­women, how farre it is from my thought of your Noble Sexe, so farre I wish disliking from you, in misconstruing any of my saying.

Long rode Primaleon, without any aduenture worthy the re­hearsall, till at last being come to the Tristfull Valley, (where no knight entred, but was presently conuinced with sadnesse) he espied two Horses comming from the Castle of Pandritia, one of them hée knew to belong to the knight, that maintained the Iust before the Castle of Dramusiande, which made him somewhat amazed, to sée him wander without his Maister. At last, casting his eye about, hee espied the knight setting behinde a Trée, attyred in blacke Armour, and in his hand the Shielde with the Portraite of his Lady, whereto hée vsed many amo­rous complaints: which Primaleon desirous to heare, alighted, and deliuering his Horse to his Esquire, drewe néere vnto the Knight, who was so farre rauished with beholding his Ladies counterfaite, that he perceiued not the comming of Primaleon, but thinking no body to be néere, continued his discourses after this manner.

Madame, if the desire of him, who hath but once had the sight of your swéete face, can be quallified by no meanes, till he come againe into your presence, how happy may they estéeme them­selues who not onely haue the continuall view of your heauen­ly beauty, but are partakers of your incomparable courtesie, which being sufficient to inueigle the mindes of the gods, hath larger force to intrap the heart of any earthly Gallant. How often doe I imbrace your Picture with an vnfained heart? And how after powre foorth my complaints in the middest of all mishaps: liuing by the nobilitie of your name, as the Elephant doeth by the Ayre, and reioycing in your Shrine, when God knowes I am too far from the substance: Oh Florendos, borne [Page] to great happinesse if thou estéeme thy Parentage, but brought into infinite mishaps through thine owne perswasion, in that thou doest contemplate a thought without end, and beginnest to loue her, who endeth in likeing thée. Well mayst thou call thy selfe Miragarda, and good occasion had he that gaue thée that name, for which my poore heart hath paide indifferently, but more shall do if thou vse me with rigor.

Continuing these and a great many such like spéeches, Pri­maleon well knew that it was sonne Florendos, whose grée­uous passions caused him to call to memory, the like sorrowes which himselfe had endured, when he spent his trauayles for the Princesse Gridonia: wherefore, drawing néere vnto him he would not as yet take any knowledge of him, but saluted him in these tearmes. Sir Knight, would you not impart some of your gréefes to him, who sorroweth to sée you ouercharged with such heauinesse? Truly Sir (aunswered the Tristfull Knight) I receiue such contentation in my troubled thoughts, and haue vsed them so long to my good liking, that I would bée loath any should be priuie to my passions, but onely my selfe, to whom they are alway welcome. But what are you that make your selfe so hardy, as to disturbe me from my contended exer­cise? certainly if you dare expect a while, I will either force you to repent this discourtesie, or bring you as a vassaile to my Lady and Mistresse.

So calling his esquire to arme him, Primaleon mounted pre­sently on horsebacke: so greatly offended at his Sonnes words, that he would make him no answer, but stayed his comming a pretty way from him. When the Tristfull Knight was ready prouided, and had bethought himselfe of his vngentle wordes, he came vnto Primaleon with these spéeches. Sir Knight (par­don me I pray you) if I haue forgotten my selfe towards you, assuring you that I am sorry for the wordes I gaue you in my choller. Tush Sir (answered Primaleon) that is nothing to me, to whom you may vse what talke you please: but prouide your selfe, for I am determined to trie your courage, because you would attempt to giue me the dare. At these words they couched their Speares, which were deliuered on either side [Page] with such force, that the Tristfull Knight was sent to the earth, Primaleon bearing him company, because the girts of his Sad­dle were broken. Being either of them greatly abashed, they drew their Swords, and charged one another with very fierce strokes: Primaleon vsing no pittie vnto his sonne, but hacked his armour as eagerly, as had he bene his greatest enemy in the world.

By this you may perceiue, that furie little regardeth fréend­ship or affinitie, but is so extreame, both in the Father, and in the Childe, that it stretcheth beyond reason, or the limits of na­ture. Long was the fight, and very dangerous on either part their armour spoyled, their bodies sore wounded, and their strengths so much altered, that one would haue supposed death to be the next remedie.

Then withdrawing themselues to pause a little, they cast their eyes vpon the House of Sadnesse, the windows being co­uered with blacke, where Pandritia and her Damosels st [...]d to behold the Combate, which was a great gréefe to them to sée, as to the two Champions to endure it so long. Primaleon being greatly afflicted to behold the Ladyes, as also angred at the hautie courage of his sonne: stayed his hand, and entred in­to these spéeches. Sir knight, I will trie at this very instant if the Portraite of your Lady will stand you in any more néed, or the deuotions that you vse vnto her, to deliuer you out of my hand, which if she faile you beyond your expectation, you shall know how vaine it is, to spend your time in such foolish cogita­tions.

Trust me sir (replyed the Tristfull Knight) if I stood in néed of her ayde, to make resistance against you, I thinke she would as willingly grant thereto, as you are witlesse to moue such a rash presumption, which ere long I haue no doubt, but you shall déerely know the price of.

After they had fought a good while againe, and Primaleon sée­ing what sore wounds he had giuen his sonne, beganne to rue his daungerous estate, whereupon he vsed these spéeches following, I thinke it best Sir Knight, to leaue our weapons, and for to end our Combat with some louing words: which [Page] may returne to our greater honour, then so to séeke the spoile of one anothers life.

Not so Sir (sayd the Tristfull Knight) for at first you might haue remedied all this mishappe, but séeing you would not e­stéeme of it then, my selfe thinkes scorne to graunt it now. During the time of their talke, Pandritia came foorth of her Ca­stell, accompanied with the Damoselles, being desirous to pa­cifie the daungerous strife, wherein they perceyued these two Champions to remaine, so Primaleon seeing the courtesie of Pandritia, left the Tristfull Knight, and thus saluted her. Ma­dame, I trust ere long you shall receiue more contentation, then the griefe you were in, at the first entrance of this Castle: which cannot be more welcome to you, then it hath alwaies bin desired of me.

Sir (answerered Pandrita) pardon me because I haue no knowledge of you, but for your good wil I giue you harty thāks, being vrged by the great distresse I sée you in, to make entrea­tance that you would leaue the Combate, and vpon the report of your name (if I may without blemish to mine honour) you shall enter my Castell, where I will doe the best for the relie­uing your weake estate.

Credite me Madame (sayd Primaleon) I haue so earnestly desired to doe you seruice, that I haue not spared the trauaile of my person from a farre Countrey, to bring you such tydings, as I hope shall agrée with your good nature: and because you shall not remaine in suspition of me, I giue you to vnderstand, that I am called Primaleon, Sonne to the famous Emperor of Constantinople.

When the Tristfull Knight heard these wordes, he was o­uercome with such extreame sorrow and heauinesse, because he had entred Combat with his Father Primaleon, that he had much adoe to sustaine himselfe: which the Prince séeing, came to him with these words. Florendos, let no grieuous moti­ons séeme to abate your courage, for I had knowledge of you before we fell to the Combat, as for what hath passed, I franke and fréely forgiue, being glad that I haue tryed your right to be of such reputation.

[Page] The Tristfull Knight knéeling downe, and in great humility kissing his Fathers hand, hée sustained him graciously in his armes, and great were the salutations that passed betwéene them. Pandritia being glad to sée the Prince Primaleon, con­ducted them both into her House of Sadnesse, where they were lodged in a goodly chamber, and their wounds attended by the Ladies, with very diligent and louing respect.

CHAP. LII.
How Primaleon and the Tristfull knight, being healed of the wounds they had receiued in the combat, by the courte­ous entertainment of the sorrowfull Lady Pandritia, after they had staied there a little space (and Primaleon certify­ing her of the happy deliuery of the Prince Don Edward) they both departed from thence, the Prince toward Con­stantinople, and the Tristful knight in his iourney towards Spaine: when Pandritia likewise for these ioyfull ridings, left her House of Sadnesse, and went to the Garden of Da­mosels. And how after Primaleon, and the Prince Vernar were arriued at Constantinople, the Soldan Bellagris, sent a Messenger to the Emperor, who gaue him to vnderstand of the dealing of the Soldan of Babilon, who had staid his army, to contend with certaine Lords of his domini­ons, that rebelled, and entred into armes against him.

FLoredos the Tristfull Knight, and his no­ble Father the Prince Primaleon, made their abode for the space of certaine dayes, in the carefull Castle of the solitary Pan­dritia, where they were so carefully visited and their feeble estates so louingly tende­red, that in short time they recouered their [Page] perfect health. In which time, Primaleon had certified her, of the prosperous successe of the Prince Don Fdward, whom she verily supposed to be dead long before: so that shée conceiued such great delight in this report, as at the request of the Prince, the left her House of Sadnesse, and returned to her Mansion named the Garden of Damosels, vsing more pleasant conceits, then for a great while she might suffer to thinke on. Primaleon hauing borne her company longer then willingly hee would, and declared to her the the names of the Knights that were prisoners with Don Edward, as also the manner of their hap­py deliuerance, accompanied with the Tristful Knight, he tooke his leaue of her, she being loath they should depart so soone, but perswaded by their earnest affayres, gaue them the courtesie, and so they left her.

They twaine thus ryding together, the Tristfull Knight de­sired his Father, that hée might leaue his company, because the affection to his Lady, directed his trauaile into Spaine, who not denying his sonnes request, because himselfe was min­ded to ryde alone, to the ende hee might make the better proofe of his valour, imbraced one another, the Tristfull Knight ri­ding towards her, for whose swéete sake he liued in great afflic­tion and anguish of minde, where at this time wée will leaue him, and returne to the Prince Primaleon, who not encoun­tring any aduenture, by this time is come to Constantinople, whereas full often he wished himselfe, because he had heard of the Soldanes Army, which was of such force, that it caused the whole Empire to stand in great feare. Primaleon being en­tred into the Citie, kept close his Beuere, because he would not be knowne to any: but intended to come suddainly vpon his friends, which wold make him to be the better welcome. Being come to y Pallace, & hauing deliuered his Horse to his Esquire, he went vp into the great Hall, in the same Armour that he v­sed against the Tristfull Knight, which was very much defaced with the blowes he had receiued, causing great astonishment to all that were present, who gaue him way to come before the Emperour. Then knéeling downe, and desiring to haue the Empresse and the Ladies present, he would discourse [...] his [Page] Highnesse, what had happened lately in England: which the Emperour desirous to heare, yet not knowing what or who he was all this while, receiued him from the ground, saying. That the honour of the place from whence he came, should make him a great deale the better welcome: and so he conducted him to the Empresse chamber, where (by good hap) the princesse Gridonia, Polinarda and Bazilia, were present, when the Emperor tooke occasion to begin as thus. Faire Ladies, this Knight commeth from the Court of England, and would not declare his message to me, vntil such time as he might come to your presence, before whom he desireth to shewe his Ambassage, which I wish to be otherwise then I thinke for, because of the tariance of my sonne Primalaon, whose absence is no small cause of my heauinesse. With that the Emperour sate downe by the Ladies, whom Primaleon began to behold very earnestly, because he percey­ued them growne into great alteration, especially the Empe­rour his Father, whose countenance was much changed, then when he saw him last, and the Princes Gridonia, had greatly offended his faire face, with the continuall mourning shée vsed for the absence of her Lord: so generally beholding them all, and staying from speaking an indifferent long space, to the great a­mazing of the Emperor, as also the company of the courtly La­dies: at last he vnclasped his Beuer, & began in this order. I de­sire you, my gratious father, to pardon my long silence, as also the great time of mine absence from your royall Court, hauing no other Message to present you, but the good health of your no­ble friends in England, as also of your Sonne Primaleon, who humbleth himselfe before your gratious presence. The Empe­ror was suddenly wrapt with such an inward ioy, y for a great time he remained as it were in a trance, in like maner the Em­presse, Gridonia, Polinarda, & al the Ladies, who came running altogether, & imbraced him with such ioy, as it is impossible for me to giue iudgement thereon. After hée had vsed curtesie to them al, the Princesse Bazilia came & kissed his hand, to whom he said. Faire Sister, feare you not, your Lord Vernas will not long absēt himselfe frō you, but you shal haue him here right soon I dare warrant you. Then was he vnarmed, when the Empe­rour [Page] could not satisfie himselfe, till he heard the ioyfull newes lately chanced in England: but when he vnderstood, how Pal­merin was sonne to the Prince Don Edward, and his daugh­ter Flerida, he receiued great contentation, in that he was nou­rished in the company of the princesse Polinarda, who concea­led her ioy from any one, Dramacian excepted, to whō she was accustomed to disclose her secrets. Great was the pleasure for the returne of Primaleon, whom the nobles and gentlemen of the cittie came dayly to welcome: but to their greater content, within a while after, the Prince Vernar with a great many of the Princes & knights of Greece, arriued at the Court, whose company was not so long desired, as now they were ioyfully and hartily embraced. In the middest of this great triumphing and solace, a Messenger sent from the Soldane Belagris, pre­sented himselfe before the Emperour, who disclosed his message in this manner.

Illustrious Prince, the Soldan Bellagris, my Lord and ma­ster, in humble duty kisseth the hand of your excellency, giuing you to vnderstand, that so soone as he was arriued at his court he was aduertised how the Soldon of Babilō hauing with him a great and puissant armie, prepared himselfe to ouerrunne your country and Empire, and to make a generall spoile of your people and Dominions, your estate being weakned through the losse of those knights, who haue left your Court to séek the aduentures of great Brittain. But when he was taking Ship, and his Army at poynt to hoyse their sailes, word was present­ly brought him, how certaine Lords in his Realme, had leuied a number of his owne subiects, to enter armes against him, for that they were able no longer to suffer his oppressing tyranny. Vpon this occasion he stayed his armie, to bring them in obey­sance, that had béene so hardie to rebell against him: which thing he can hardly do, without the losse of 20000. Pagans, but when he shall finish with them, thou he intendeth to visite you. Which that you might preuent, my Lord thus willed me to make knowne vnto you, wishing to sée the houre of his own death, before your imperiall estate should be any way be distres­sed.

[Page] Gramercy my good friend (said the Emperour) at this in­stant I perceiue the great good wil which the Soldane thy Lord hath alwaies borne vnto me, to whom I pray thée commend me with honourable thankes, protesting to do as much for him if (as God forbid) he stand in the like néede. I thinke it best for you to take your rest a while, because hauing endured so long trauail, you cannot else chuse but be very sore laboured: yet first I desire thée to rehearse, how fareth thy Lord since his coming home? My Lord (answered the Messenger) euer since his arri­ual, hath delighted to discourse of the strange aduentures, which not long since are brought to ende in great Brittaine, which how rare they be, I know your highnesse hath heard, wherfore I néed not to reherse them. You say true (quoth the Emperour) and assure your selfe that the imprisonment of the English Prince Don Edward will cause the Castle of Dramusiande, to remaine in perpetuall and renowned memory. Thus conclu­ding their talke, the Emperour went to the Empresse chamber where, in the presence of the Ladies, he rehearsed the Message from the Soldan Bellagris: and on the morrow the messenger departed, bearing with him the Emperours letters to his Lord. Now was the Court and Citizens replenished with as great ioy, as before they were filled with heauinesse, when they stood in feare of the Armie of the Soldan of Babylon.

CHAP. LIII.
Here the History discourseth at large of the Tristfull Knight, who after hee was departed from Constantinople, in the company of the other Princes and knights, that went to pursue the search of the Prince Don Edward, through oc­casion of ill weather on the scas, landed vpon the Coast of Spaine. And how in trauaile he came to the Castle of the Giant Almarol, where he became enamoured of the faire Miragarda; for whose loue he foyled the Giant, and kept the passage there a great while, in the honour of her picture▪

[Page] BEcause the Authour, hath all this while made no mention of the prince Florendos, (who at this present tearmeth himselfe the Tristfull Knight) and endeuoured himselfe likewise in the search of Don Edward: now as well to excuse his owne negligence, as also to fauour the hard Fortune of this Knight in trauayle, you shall bée perfectly resolued of all his pro­céedings.

At such time as he departed from Constantinople, in the com­pany of diuers Knights who pursued the Prince Primaleon, e­uery one taking a contrary way, his course directed him to a ha­uen of Sea, where imbarking himselfe in a Merchant of Eng­land, time and occasion so serued, that they tooke their depar­ture. Hauing endured so long on the seas, that they knew them­selues to be within a ken of England, on a suddaine a contrarie winde came vpon them, and held them in such danger betwéene hope and feare, that at last in great hazard of their liues, they chanced vpon the Coast of Spaine, where they tooke landing on a Rocke, which at this day is called Lisbone.

Florendos, séeing himselfe so farre from the place, whither he directed his course, and would haue so gladly attained, rode on ouercharged with extreme heauines, & complaining on fortune for his vnlucky trauaile. After he had passed through the Pro­uince of Portingall, and by his hautie Chiualrie obtained a ge­nerall commendation, he happened to come to the Riuer The­sin, where ryding on, & contemplating his amorous thoughts, he espied a goodly Castle scituated vpon a Rocke, which gaue him great occasion of pleasure to behold it. This Castle vrged him to aduance his course thither, but there lay a blocke in his way, which was a great let to his former pretence, for vnder the gréene shade as he rode, he perceiued three Ladies of such sin­gular beautie, as in all his life time he supposed neuer to haue séene the like. These Ladies continued a very serious discourse among themselues, so that they tooke no héede to the arriuall [Page] of Florendos: who gaue a great good liking to them all, but e­specially shée that sat in the middest, to whom the other twaine shewed very great reuerence, being of most stately beautie, as also of a singular and erquisite behauiour. But shall we say, that Florendos was enamoured at this faire spectacle? O no, hee could as well eschew it, as the Bird fast caught in the Fow­lers snare, and he liked her no better, then he that did most ho­nour and heartily loue her: so that hee changeth his mirth into mones, his talke into teares, and his whole cogitations, to a Louers complexion: aiming the whole course of his affection on the Lady, whose face had the power to detaine his fréedom, and her behauiour the operation, to be chiefe starre within the compasse of his Sphere. Still he stroue with himselfe, to goe backe againe, and shun the blaze that had set on fire his sences: but affection had hung such a clog on his conceits, and one looke brought his heart into such a Labyrinth, that Ariadnes thread could do him no good, but only the saint that had giuen him this glaunce. While he remained in these muses, such occasion the Ladies receiued, that they leaue the field, and walke into their Castle, which gaue such an vnkind corsey to the heart of Flo­rendos, that now his mind was in some more outrage then before: yea, they were no sooner gone, but he fell into such rigo­rous accusations against himselfe, partly because timeritie withheld him from speaking to them, and then againe, how ne­cessary his cause was to haue mooued speech, so that betwéene the one & the other, he was euē as a man distraught of his wits. Then began he to feele the seuerall accidents, which loue im­printeth in the hearts of those, that delight to dally vnder her Banner, and how the little son of the Goddesse Citherea, can pierce more déepe with his aiming shaft, then the hardy enemie can enter with his launce: so that he confessed himselfe to bee in more suretie when the Bullets flew about his eares, then when Beautie had sent her charges to warre against his eies, which was able to do more in an houre, then the other had po­wer in the space of a yeere. Well, sad as he was, he walked to the Castell, where finding the gate shut, hee fell into his former agonies: but by Fortune, casting his eyes aside, hee beheld a [Page] Shéeld hanging on the wall, wherin was liuely giuen to view, the Portrait of the Lady (who was mistresse of his hart) which he iudged to be handled in such perfection, that it wanting no­thing but in resemblance of the person. Vnder this shéeld in golden letters, was artificially written the name of Miragarda whereby Florendos verily supposed that it belonged to her who iustly deserued it: because her beautie did not only merit to be viewed, but would likewise inuegle the hearts of the stoutest that durst conceiue the hardinesse in themselues, to come to her place of abode. Yet were not those letters placed there to that in tent or purpose, but only to aduertise such knights, as took occa­sion to trauaile that way, to be carefull to themselues for feare of the Giant Almarol, who was Lord of that Castle, and kept that Shéeld there in the behalfe of this faire Miragarda, against any knight that durst presume to take it from thence. While Florendos stood vsing a thousand amorous deuotions to this singular picture, he espyed the Giant to come forth of the castle, armed with a Iacke of Azier, no lesse faire then strong, and mounted on a sturdy blacke Courser, when to Florendos he began to vse these words.

Credit me sir knight, the mystery of these letters, hath gottē such a maistery of you, that I feare you will repent when first you saw them, and that fortune was so much your enemy to conduct you to this place. Trust me (answered Florendos) if I did not more fauour the portrait, then I stand in feare of thy puissance, and regard more her swéete face who owes it, then I respect these words thou vsest in thy ruffe, I should hardly shew her my desire, or giue thée thy dutie, which since thou wilt haue no forbearance but ready payment, I will cause my sword at this time to seale thée quittance. These words, caused one either side cruell blowes with their weapons, not so dangerous to the one, but as doubtfull to the other: yet fortune fauouring the Prince Florendos, brought the Giant Almoral into such estate that he had bene made shorter by the head, had not Miragarda presently discended, who perceiuing Almoral brought into sub­iection, vsed these words to the Prince Florendos.

Sir knight, I desire you to make acceptation of the victory & [Page] beare not such a bloody minde to desire the losse of his life, but if for my sake you will do so much, then fauour him to whom I am very much beholding, as well for his gentlenesse, as also be­cause he did gard me, and of this Fortresse. Florendos séeing he had gotten such good lucke, that he might speake to her, to whom before he durst not, requited her presently this answer.

Madame, of such force are your gratious spéeches, as also the good opinion I conceiue of your séemely selfe, that I not onely vow my heart at your command, but also my hand to maine­taine your cause, wherefore I grant him his life, desiring that your gentle nature wold afford me the like, for that your beau­ty claimed such a conquest of me, as none but your selfe can any way mitigate. Miragarda giuing him great thanks for his cur­tesie, departed into the Castle againe, accompanyed with the Giant: Florendos still remaining without, complaining on the wound he receiued by her beautie, and not of the hurts he had gained through the Giant. In whose company he enterprised to kéepe the shéeld of Miragarda, entring the Combat in her de­fence, with all the Knights that made their iourney that way, which indéed were nany, through the singular report of her beautie, yet fortune at that instant preferring Florendos, caused him still to remaine the Conquerour.

Thus remained the Prince in extreame conflict of his loue, frequencing dayly his Ladies picture, with his amorous and pensiue complaints, which Miragarda tooke such pleasure to behold, that she fained for to loue him, onely because she would scorne at his fond and foolish dealings. But when Fame had blowne abroade the aduentures of great Brittaine, how the knights were continually lost in the Castle of the Giant Dra­musiande: Miragarda conceiuing such an opinion of him, did earnestly request that he would take his iourney thither, per­swading him that the aduenture of the Fortresse, was only re­serued to be finished by his valour.

Florendos loath to disobey her commandement, tooke vpon him to crauaile, that he arriued in England, at such time as he heard the aduenture to be finished, and the Princes were pre­paring themselues to come to the Castle, where on the bridge [Page] he attended their comming, and behaued himself against them as you haue heard before. But now gentlewomen, whose rare excellencie is such as you may perceiue, that it vrgeth the gen­tle minde to attempt the déepest danger in your gratious ser­uice, you shall be resolued how the faire Miragarda chanced to this Castle, and why the Giant Almorol defended her as you haue heard.

At such time as the King Recinde, was Prisoner in the en­chanted Castle, and that many Princes of Spain had betaken themselues to his search, the Quéene remained in such grée­uous sorrowes, that nothing could moue procure her to any pleasure. Whereupon, the Countie Arlae presented his daugh­ter Miragarda to the Quéene, to the end that we might receiue some pleasure by her company, but the noble Gentlemen de­lighted with this rare péece of beantie, enterprised Iousts and Triumphes, onely to winne her to whom they were so affecti­oned. So that expences of them were so great, to doe her pleasure who litle regarded it, that many of them were brought into great necessitie, onely by the riotous charges her beauty set them at.

The Quéene séeing her Lord so long absent from his King­dome, and that the noble Gentlemen of the Court, striuing to excell one another in braue and rich deuises, were brought to an hard exigent of many of their liuings, which was onely procured through the loue of Miragarda, by the aduise of the Countie and her honourable Councell (who pittied to sée this great inconuenience) sent for the Giant Almoral, to whom were giuen certaine knights and Gentlewomen to attend vp­pon her, and he should kéepe her till such time as he should ap­point her Mariage, which at that instant he could not dispatch, because of the great discord that was risen about her, amongst all the Princes and knights of the Court. And so he sent her to the Castle of the Giant Almoral, vntill the princes should be in quietnesse againe, where in the meane time, she often vsed to walke in the gréene féeldes for to delight her selfe, euen as she did at the time when Florendos come and found her, and there she liued, till some one might reléeue her from Captiuitie, as [Page] hereafter you shall vnderstand how euery thing happened, du­ring the time of her abyding there.

CHAP. LIIII.
How Palmerin departed from the Realme of England, and in his trauaile met with the Prince Gracian, lying fast a sleep vnder a greene tree, who gaue him to vnderstand of an hard aduenture, befaln to the Prince Platir and Floraman: And how he riding to helpe them, met with a Damosell, who brought him to the place where they were fighting the Combate, and there Palmerin slew Dramaco, who was Lord of the Castle, and redeemed three Ladyes from their tirannicall seruitude.

SO Long remained Palmerin in the Court of the King of England with his noble fa­ther and his fréends who reioyced in his company, that euery one supposed he would not trauaile again, which he could hardly kéepe himselfe from all this while, but that the earnest intreaty of the King, with the Princes Flerida his Mother, vrged him to stay longer then gladly he would.

At last, when they perceiued al means could not serue to hin­der his determination, but that he laboured night & day in pur­suing his pretence, they gaue consent he should depart whither pleased him, so taking his leaue of the aged King his Father, Mother, and all his Fréends, who were not a little sorrowfull to enioy his absence, he gaue thē euery one a gentle Conge, & so left them in their great heauinesse. But within a while after, Don Florian séeing his Brother Palmerin was gone, and how [Page] his honour was imbaced by staying so long from trauaile: hee began a fresh sadnesse throughout all the Court, especially to King Frederick, whose affection was more inclined to him, thē to the Prince Palmerin, because hee had nourished him in his Court, and therefore his loue was a great deale more surelie grounded on him.

But first to discourse what happened the Prince Palmerin, who riding encumbred with a thousand conceites, durst not take his way to Constantinople, fearing to displease his Lady Polinarda, but remembring how neere they were in affinitie, he had good hope she wold make more estimatiō of his seruice. Contenting himselfe with this thought, hee rode on till he arri­ued in a very vnfertile Valley, whose scarcitie of Trees, or of any other thing delightfull to the eye, vrged him to dispence with his thoughts a sudden sadnesse, till at last (after hee had ridden a good while) he came to a faire and mightie bigge Tree, whose compasse of Boughes, contained a fine and very coole shadowe vnder it, where he espied a Knight to lie fast asleepe, hauing neither horse nor Esquire to beare him company, which made him somwhat amazed, and loath to leaue him in that dan­gerous estate, he moued him with his lance, and these spéeches. Sir Knight, this place is not for such an one as you, to repose your wearie limmes in, because you are as vncertaine of any safetie, as you may assure your self it is to be feared. The knight suddenly awaked, and setting hand to his Sword, presently started vp: When Palmerin had knowledge of him to bee the Prince Gracian, whose company was not a little welcome to him, being in such a solitary and vnfrequented place of passage, wherefore hee began in these tearmes following. Sir Gracian, let not my presumption be admitted to any offence, but rather estéemed of in this sort, that I am yours any way to command in seruice. Graciā being glad to see the Prince Palmerin, know­ing that his puissance might remedy part of his misfortune, which being willing to disclose, he imbraced the Prince in his armes, and in this order began to vtter his tale. As it is not vn­knowne, worthy sir, how your knightly chiualry hath brought to end the aduēture which was tearmed beyond any possibility, [Page] so knowe I that your affection is inclined to ayde those, whose misaduenture requiret the helpe so good a Knight, and how happie your arriuall at this time is, let the spectacle you shall shortly sée, remaine as an vndoubted and infallible witnesse, which because delay in words may turne to some danger, thus it is.

If you follow on the way you sée right before you, it will not be long before you shall come to the place, where the Princes Platir and Floraman abide in great danger, to whom you may yéelde maruailous friendly succour, if you make hast to them, who would gladly be so happy as to haue a sight of you.

In the meane time, if Siluian will doe me the fauour, that I may mount vp behinde him, if we come not vnto you, I desire you to except vs at the Forgetfull Stone, where haue you no doubt but we will meete together.

Palmerin being sory to heare these newes, but highly com­mending his Fortune, that he came so luckely to the aide of the two Princes, promising to fulfill the requst of Gracian, he set Spurres to his Horse, and rode as fast as possible he might to­wards them. He had not rode very long, but that he came to a place, where two pathes seruing two seueral wayes, made him to stand in a muse which way he were best to take, but to driue him from his doubt, he espied a Damosell come riding towards him, vsing such heauy clamours, as if one had pursued her to de­priue her of her life. Palmerin abashed at this vnlooked for ad­uenture, stayed his Horse to question with her, but she percei­uing his intent, in a great feare gaue him these spéeches.

Good Sir offer me not the discourtesie, to be a hinderance to my happy trauaile, for that you may endamage me, with grea­ter harme if you stay me, then the discourse of my misfortunes, can yéelde you any content to heare, which I am afraide to dis­close, because I doubt your valour can giue me no comfort in this great mishappe. Trust me Lady (answered Palmerin) as for my valour, I can hardly make you any warrant of it, but so great is my desire at this instant, that I must request you shewe me the cause of your grieuous lamentation. Well Syr (quoth shée) since you are so desirous to vnderstand the ex­extremitie [Page] of my case, come with me, and you shall be certified hereof, as much as you can possible craue. So riding on with her, at length he espyed a goodly Castle, and heard a great slash­ing and bruit of weapons, to which noyse the damosell brought him, & shewed him where ten knights had setled themselues in fight against twaine, who defended them with so great pollicy, and charged their enemies with such courage of minde, that in a little space they had laid fine of them dead on the ground.

By these knights stood certaine men, holding two faire and comely Ladies, with whom they would haue entred into the Castle, but that these two Knights kept themselues still a­gainst the gate, so that it was not possible for them any way to enter in.

Palmerin beholding the Combate very fierce on both sides, their blood cruelly wasted, & their strengths altogether brought into great weakenesse, had not stayed long before he perceyued a mighey bigge knight to come forth of the Castle, who was very strongly armed and mounted, with him ten well appoin­ted men, that garded his person, and were very diligent about him. Aduauncing himselfe, to the remainder of those that were left aliue of the ten knights, and endured still the Com­bate with the other twaine: verie Maiestically he gaue foorth these wordes. Retire you Varlets, and let me breake the bones of these Caitifes, who haue procured me to high and hea­uie displeasure. When Palmerin saw the two Knightes in very féeble estate, so that this fresh resistance were the vtter losse of their liues, he stepped to the knight, replying in this manner. If thou haue either regard of Knighthood, or the honourable conditions, thou oughtest to vse in any martiall at­tempt, then leaue them whom thou séest are too weake to re­sist, and prouide thy selfe for me, who haue enterprised their quarrell.

The knight offended at these words of Palmerin, couched his speare, and ran against ech other with such puissance, that being not able to resist the encounter, they were sent together violently to the earth. Then falling to the combate of the Sword, the other armed men came in defence of their Lord, [Page] when by good Fortune, the Prince Gracian came and ayded them with such couragious helpe, that they foure assayling the knight and his companions, in the end preuailed, and siue them all outright, which caused the other standing by, and séeing their Lord and his knights slaine before their faces, to run into the Castle, and betake themselues to darke Sellers and Vauts, onely because they stood in feare of losing their liues.

Palmerin séeing the field was theirs, and no body came to of­fer any more resistance, he went to the Ladyes, who were very pale of colour, by reason of the great feare they stood in, when the cruell Dramaco tooke them, seeking to dishonour them, and to offer them what villany he could: wherefore the Prince in these words began to salute them.

Faire Ladyes, shew me I pray you the occasion why this villanous wretch endeuoured himselfe to your dishonour, be­cause I am ignorant how it hath happened, yet being certified of your misfortune, came to do you the best seruice I might. Pla­tir and Floraman, when they had knowledge how it was the Prince Palmerin, stayed the Ladyes answer, comming and imbracing him with great courtesie, gaue him harty thanks for his friendly succour. Nay trust me (answered Palmerin) giue your thanks to the Prince Gracian, for I had not come vnto you at this time, if he had not declared vnto me the heauinesse of your estate. Then taking the Ladies by the hang, they went into the castle, where they found no body but two aged women, who sate wringing their hands for the death of Dramaco: and séeing them coming in that had slain him & all his companions, dissembled the greef which remained in their harts, & submitted themselues, fearing lest they should tast of the same cup them­selues, onely requesting that their liues might be saued, which the renowned Palmerin of England did presently grant them, Then were they and the Ladies brought into a goodly Cham­ber, where their Esquires bound vp their wounds, and made prouision to get them their strength againe: but Palmerin desi­rous to haue more knowledge of the knight which was slaine, questioned with one of the old women, who was his mother, when she presently returned him this answer.

[Page] The Knight whom you to my griefe haue slaine, was called Dramaco, hée being my sonne, and begotten by the valiant Gi­ant Lurcon, sometime my husband: whom Primaleon slew in Constantinople, at such time as he enterprised to reuenge the death of the famous Perrequin of Duras. Here haue wée long liued to our owne content, vntill froward Fortune conducted you hither: what more you are desirous to heare, pardon mée, for my griefe will not permit me to rehearse it. The Prince con­tented himselfe with this report, when departing from her, hée went to visit the Ladies, to vnderstand of them, in what man­ner their mishaps had chanced.

CHAP. LV.
How the Lady declared to the prince Palmerin, in what man­ner they were brought to this Castle of the hardy Knight Dramaco, and how they met with the Prince Gracian, who sent Platir and Floraman to rescue the Ladies from thence: where Palmerin found them at the Castle, labou­ring still in their aduenturous enterprise.

DRamaco and his companions being thus happily foyled, & the knights remayning in the Castle till their wounds were healed, Palmerin determined to depart frō thence, but first he desired the Ladies, to tell him how it happened, that they became so op­pressed by this cruell Dramaco. The eldest of the Ladies, perceiuing the earnest desire of the Prince Palmerin, satisfied his request in this manner. Worthy Sir, we are the daughters of a Lady, who inhabiteth not farre from this place in her Castle, where we liued in such quiet content of life, and so well guarded (as we supposed) from any ensuing danger, that we feared no mishap, being so well gouerned by our Lady Mother.

[Page] But as none can auoide what the destenies haue ordained, but must abide the doome of their appointed fortune: so we allowed to this great vnhappinesse, haue felt part of the rygour of this cruell tyrant. For he being addicted to such a cruell nature, that the Noble he rewarded with bloody murther, fayre Ladies and Damoselles he defaced of their honour, and vsed all alike in his villainous furie: he sent tent Knights to the aforesayde Castle of our Mother, who finding vs altogether vnprouided of refuge at that time (insomuch as our woonted safetie gaue vs small cause of doubt:) without respect to her teares, or our com­plaints brought vs away by extreame violence.

By the way as they brought vs, we met this Knight, mea­ning the Prince Gracian, whom they dismounted from his Horse: and because they perceiued him such a comely Knight, they saued his life, but tooke his Horse, and left him on foote to goe whither him pleased, thinking scorne to accept the Com­bate, which by sundry meanes he offered vnto them. Leauing him there alone, they brought vs with them to the Castell, when these other two Knights swiftly pursuing after vs, stood our defence in such order, that they would not suffer vs to bee lead into the Castell.

Then Dramaco séeing these Knights, preuailed so well a­gainst his seruants, came himselfe to accomplish what they could not fulfill, but then how well you stood our friend, the happy effect remaineth as a substantiall witnesse. When Palmerin had well marked the discourse of the Lady, theyr great misfortune and the monsterous crueltie of Cramaco, hée reioyced that he found Gracian in such a luckie time, by whose meanes he had brought the aduenture to such a good and happy conclusion.

Then Gracian rehearsed, how in the time hée stayed at the trée, Platir & Floraman came that way (after the knights that conducted the Ladies had taken his horse, and left him there in the order as you haue heard:) to whom he declared the mishap of the Ladies, whereupon they rid hastily after them, and con­tinued the Combat, as you haue already heard, vntill such time as one of the Ladies escaping away, met the Prince Palmerin, [Page] and brought him to defend their oppressed cause. After they had sifted euery matter, according as themselues desired to knowe, the Prince Palmerin gaue the Castle to both the Ladies, & ta­king his farewell very gently of them all, he mounted on horse­backe, leauing them at the cure of their woundes at the Castle.

The Ladies were very carefull to helpe the Princes, who at length were brought to their former strength: where they passed away the time pleasantly with the Ladies, recounting the strange aduenture which they had happily passed. But the death of Dramaco comming to the eare of these Ladies mother, caused her to come thither to sée her daughters, who, when she was there arriued, gaue great thankes to the Princes for their imployed paines, and gratified them with such honour, as shée could deutie expedient for the time and place.

When the Princes saw euery thing in due and desent or­der, they determined to depart from thence: desiring the Ladies to vse courtesie to the ancient mother of Dramaco, because shee was innocent, and not culpable in his mischieeous practises. At their request, the Ladies willing to shewe, that liberalitie is a vertue of great commendation, gaue her the castle of her sonne Dramaco, for which she rewarded them with very courteous thankes.

So the Princes going into the Armoury of Dramaco, where they prouided themselues each one of a notable Armour: and from his stable likewise tooke three of his fairest Stéeds, which might better serue their necessitie, then to abide there, and put to no exercise. Then leauing the ladies there in the Castle, rea­die to depart to their owne abiding, they vowed to stay in no place, till they had attained the Citie of Constantinople, where how they sped, you shall heare more hereafter.

CHAP. LVI.
How Palmerin, after he had left the Princes and the two La­dies in the Castle, rode on accompanied with Siluian his Esqure, til at last he arriued on the sea shore: where finding a ship lying at Anker, he entred into it, when presently so sonne as he was in the ship, the Cable burst in the middest, and the billowes of the Seas brought the ship to a strange Iland, in which Palmerin went on land, and encountred a strange and hardy aduenture as a Fountaine. And how Sil­uian met with Francian and Onistalde, to whom he decla­red the mishap of his Maister: for which cause, they be­tooke them presently to his search. In like manner, Siluian arriuing at the Castle of the Giant Dramusiande, vrged him vpon his report, to aduance himselfe presently in tra­uaile.

WHen Palmerin was departed from the Ca­stle, where he left the Princes, and the La­dies with their Mother, he rode without any aduenture, for the space of thrée dayes together, till at last comming to the Sea side, which by reason of distemperature made a great raging, he alighted and gaue his Horse to Siluian, desirous to looke a while on the surges, which would driue other pensiue matters foorth of his minde: Walking along on the side of a Rocke, he espied a Shippe hard by him which lay at Ancker, but no Marriners nor any body else, hee could perceiue in it, or neare it: which made him desirous to goe aboard, to see if there were any body there, of whom hée might be resolued from whence the vessel was, and wherfore they strooke on land in such an vn­frequented place. A while he stayed, supposing they had bin all gone on land, to fetch fresh water, or such necessaries as was néedfull for their vse: but when he saw no body came in all that [Page] space, neither could he perceiue whether any had bin gone there on land, he prepared himselfe to enter the ship. But Siluian de­sired him to change his minde from so fond an enterprise, and that in an aduenture of no better countenance, it was but méer folly to hazard his person, but when he saw his words might at­taine no perswasion from his attempt, he suffered him to enter the ship according to his own desire. No sooner was the prince fully entred, but the Cable rope which held the Ship burst in the midst, when Siluian presently cried to his master, who offred to cast himselfe on land againe by the boughs of y Trees, but all was in vaine, for yt Ship lanched forth in the déepe, and with a full gale of wind rode merily vpon the surges. In short time Palmerin had lost the sight of the shore, stil thinking what fortune did intend by this sodain aduenture, & not dishartning himselfe, but iudging all for the best, he reposed on the mercy of God, and fauour of the waues, expecting some good issue of this vnlooked for chance. Siluian remained in such he auinesse for the losse of his maister, that he thought to stay in that place, till he had heard some tidings of him, either good or bad, but séeing that in thrée dayes no news would happen, he rede sadly frō thence, leading his Maisters Horse in his hand, when he espyed two knights in white Armour, beset with Pellicans of red & Car­nation colour. Siluian presently knew them to be Francian and Onistalde, who demanded of him, what was become of his ma­ster? but when Siluian had declared the manner of his mishap, how he entred the ship, and the Cable brake on such a suddaine they feared some mischance would annoy their deare friend, whose happinesse they wished as their owne health. Wherfore they concluded that Siluian should not go strait to London, be­cause king Fredericke would conceiue great gréefe, if he should know of this vnlucky chaunce, but desired him to shew them which way he thought they might soonest find him, and on pain of death he should not go to London, nor reherse the losse of the Prince to any, but such a one as he knew to beare his maister great affection. Siluian promised to accomplish their pleasure, and so they departed from him, vowing not to spare any labour by Sea or land, vntill they might heare of the noble Palmerin.

[Page] Then Siluian being not fully resolued what he were best to do, tooke his way strait to great Brittaine, where arriuing at the Castle of the Giant Dramusiande (who entertained him with kinde and louing courtesie) he discouered to him the losse of his Lord: when presently Dramusiande clapping his armor on his backe, promised neuer to returne vnto his Castle, with­out he might attaine the good recouery of the famous Prince. Siluian seeing the affection of the Giant to be so great to his ma­sters welfare, as himselfe could wish, presented himselfe to serue him as his Esquire, till he might be so happy as to finde the Prince againe: thus leaue we them to the good fortune of their trauaile.

Returne we now to the noble Palmerin of England, who en­during the sharpe brunts on the Seas, too long as he thought, at last the ship staying at the side of a Rocke, where, the Sea had left an Iland which was vnhabited, and there he forsooke the ship, being very glad that he had gained the shore. Leauing the Sea side, he betooke himselfe to trauaile in a little path right before him, which in a little while brought him into a faire gréene Meddow, in the middest whereof was placed a Marble Stone of the height of a man, with an inscription vppon it: Take heede thou goe this way no further. When he had read this Posey (the Stone being placed there as he supposed, to cause all Passengers be afraide they knew not of what,) his minde was greatly moued to sée the end of this accident, and being accompanied continually with a hauty courage, he went on, taking great pleasure to behold the high Rocks, and the greene Trées, which spread their boughs so brauely ouer the path as he went.

Palmerin séeing no aduenture would happen all this while, the Marble Pillar giuing such a terrifying manner of words) went on still without any feare, till at last he was be nighted, when laying him downe in the grasse to take his rest, he made his Helmet his Pillow, and so determined to sléepe there for that night. But such were the motions in his mind, that the more he thought to take quiet rest, the farther off he was from his intent. For one while the remembrance of his fayre Poli­narda [Page] presented it selfe as best worthy his memory, because hée had béene so long absent from her, yet durst not enterprise to come into her presence: and thē the losse of Siluian, whose coun­sell alway serued, as an especial remedy to his amorous assaults, and wanting his company now in this heauy case, hee was for­ced to vtter diuers and sundry complaints.

Thus spent hée all that night, in a Courtly debate betwéene reason & his earnest desire, the one to perswade him from that dangerous kinde of trauaile, and to exclude from his mind, the fond allarmes giuen by his fancy: the other, how continually it wrapped him in an intricate or endlesse vexation of his sen­ces. But as often we sée, Reason is subiect to the amorous De­sire, so the prince not able to resist the aspiring drifts of his eger passions, resigned both his will and wit, to follow the loue and amitie he had begun to his Lady and Mistresse. When hée had wasted the night in this small order of rest, & the chéerefull mor­ning deliuered her faire countenance, he went on, still musing on the wordes he had read vpon the Pillar, which he estéemed to be flat mockage, because he could perceiue nothing that de­serued such a forewarning.

But as he trauailed in a faire plaine field, still vsing his minde with his former exercises, hée came to a Fountaine of singular beautie, the Pillars whereof, was of fine wrought A­zure, & the water issuing forth at the mouthes of diuers beasts very artificially made. The Prince standing a good while in a muse at this Fountaine, how so much water should ascend vp such a high Mountaine, and why such a faire thing should stand in such a vacant place, could not readily thinke with himselfe what he might iudge thereon, for at the lower end of the afore­said Pillars, lay two cruell Tygers, and two fierce Lions, who as hée supposed kept Passengers that they should not drinke at this Fountaine.

This strange sight made him somewhat abashed, and to stand in feare, that it was some Enchantment practised, to get him into some present danger: because the beastes behaued them­selues in such order, as though they might easily be brought vn­der subiectiō of the chaine, which was of such bignes, as was re­quisite [Page] to holde such furious beastes, yet were they tyed at such shortnesse, that they had very litle scope of walking. Palmerin knew it was néedles, to aske leaue to drinke at this Fountaine, of those that had no reasō to make him answer, albeit they were too strong in force, to offer him resistance: wherefore he attemp­ted to try the friendlinesse of Fortune, and to put his life in ha­zard vpon this aduenture. Then aduancing himselfe to taste of the water, vpon one of the Pillars in letters of Gold, was en­graued these words: Behold here the Fountaine of the wished water. And going a little farther, he espied an other, which was thus: He that hath the courage to drinke of this Fountaine, shall bring to ende any enterprise that belongeth to the ad­uancement of Honour and Fame: so that he shall accomplish as much, as may be comprehēded in the strength or prowesse of a man. But ouer against it, was written these words: Passe, and drinke not. This made the Prince not a little astonied, in that as the one gaue him encouragement to approach the foun­taine, so the other stood in the way to hinder his determination. But yet he concluded to try the aduenture, in that he iudged it was impossible, to méete with an occasion of more hautie en­terprise.

CHAP. LVII.
How Palmerin encouraged at this rare aduenture, entred the sight against the Beasts that kept the Fountaine, and at last (albeit with great danger) he vanquished them all & then approched to drinke of the water. Also when he departed from thence, he arriued at a Castle, whereon he sawe foure Shields placed, and being vrged by the Poesies hee sawe written on them, to try the ende of this vnlooked for acci­dent, hee entred the Combate against foure knights that came forth of the Castle, whereof he slew three, and saued the life of the fourth, to discouer to him the ende of this strange aduenture.

[Page] MAny were the doubtes the Prince concei­ued in his minde, as concerning what might happen by this gorgeous spectacle, because the poesies were placed in such vn­certaine manner, that he verilie supposed it was but some trappe or secret fetch, to al­lure him to venture on his owne destructi­on.

Wherfore hee determined to depart from thence, and not meddle with the Beasts, because he saw their faire shew of gen­tlenesse, was but onely to haue him approch the Fountaine. When he had walked a little way from thence, he began to ac­cuse and blame himself, that either seare should cause him to for­get his duty, or any occasion withdraw his mind from such an honourable attempt.

Then returning couragiously backe againe, he aduanced himselfe against one of the Tigers at the corner of the Foun­taine: who like wise gaue himselfe in such manner against the Prince catching hold vpon his Shield so forceably, that the handle brake off, and detained it in such wise, that the Prince could not by any meanes get it againe, but charged him with such a sound stroke ouer the legges, that the Tiger could not vse himselfe so well as he would.

To succour the féeble estate of the Tiger, came the other thrée Beastes, behauing themselues so furiously against the Prince, that he thought this the most doubtfull aduenture, in al his life time he had attempted. Hauing wounded one of the Lions verie sore, so that he was constrained to fall to the earth, the Prince stouped downe to recouer his shield, which the Ti­ger had abandoned, but the other Lion approched so néere vnto him, that catching hold vpon his Helmet, he drew him within his reach so violently, that hee was enforced to fall vpon his knées, whan the other Tiger crushed him with his pawes so cruelly, that had not his Armor been the stronger, he had torne the Prince in a hundred péeces.

[Page] When he perceiued himselfe attainted with such an extremi­tie, that his life stood on the very point of danger: with his sword he saluted him so déepe through the heart, that the Tiger spraw­led on the earth cleane bereft of life. In bréefe, the courage of his noble minde, did animate him with such hardinesse, that (al­beit with great paine and trauaile) hee made a dispatch of all their liues, when then he sate him downe to take a little rest, because the Tiger had pressed him to the ground with such ex­treame violence, that he thought verily all his bones had bene broken. After he had red him for a prettie while, he went to the Fountaine, being desirous to quench his thirst, but he percei­ued another little Posey, which was so darkly couched, that he could not gather any meaning of it, wherefore he presently drauke of the water, finding no more pleasantnesse in it, then any other running Riuer or spring. But he iudged both the Fountaine and the aduenture, to be placed there by some cun­ning Enchantresse to disharten the timerous, and glut the eyes of the valiant with a faire and pleasant show.

When he saw no other hazard to be tried in that place, he went on still in the path, that was made from the Fountaine, but at last on a suddaine, he espyed a very goodly and well forti­fied Castle, so finely moated round about, with a draw bridge at the entrance, and the Trées shadowing it in such a delicate manner, that his minde was altogether delighted in beholding this rare and seemely castle.

Before the gate there stood foure very faire Iasper pillars, and vpon ech of them was hanged a knightly shéeld, which Palmerin taking perfect view of, beheld in the first vpon a Sil­uer ground, this Posey, No man dare conceiue the courage to take me downe. No (quoth Palmerin) by your leaue I will be so bold as to trye, for if the taking downe of a shéeld should feare me, no matter if the aduenture did worthily foyle me, and since your protestations are so hautie, I will enforce you to humble your selfe to me, as well to serue my néede because I want a shéeld, as also to prooue the bragges contained in these words. When Palmerin had fastened the shéeld to his arme, he espyed a knight comming forth of the Castle, with a verie [Page] great Maiestie, béeing strongly armed, who seeing the Prince without a Helmet, (the Lyon hauing brused it in such sort, that he could not weare it) proudlie began to vtter these spéeches. He that will presume to take downe one of these Shieldes, be­ing not armed according to finish such an enterprise, must taste the punishment due to his fault committed, because hee may learne against another time, to arme his head, which standeth in most danger.

With these words, (not staying to heare the answer of Pal­merin) he began to charge him with very mightie strokes, and still aimed to hit him on the bare head, but Palmerin preuen­ted his determination so well, that closing fast vpon him, hée brought him downe vpon both his knées, & making semblance as though he would haue slaine him, the knight desired mercie, and yeelded himselfe to the Princes courtesie. Palmerin sauing his life, demanded of him if hee had any more to deale withall, to whom hee answered, that the chiefest danger was behind, wherupon the Prince arming his head, with the Helmet of the vanquished knight, went to the second Pillar, whereupon the Shield in a Campe of Azure, he read as thus, I am more peril­lous, and therefore worthie to be feared, for in me consisteth the greatest danger. Trust me (quoth the Prince) it may bée thou saist true, yet shalt thou not supprise my minde with any cowardly feare, and so leauing the first Shield, he took downe the second, when presently came forth another knight, who spake to the Prince in this manner.

Trulie sir knight, you haue done vnwisely to hazard your selfe in this place, especially to take downe the shielde, which requireth no rther ransome then your heart blood. Sir (an­swered Palmerin) if you see that dutie, or knightly behauiour hath failed in me, behold me here ready to deliuer a recompence with my Sword, so leauing their words, and setting them­selues stoutlie the one against the other, in the ende the Prince reached him such a sure warrant on the Creast, that the sword pierced so deepe into his head, as he fell to the earth, discharged of his life.

Then pausing a little while, at last he went to the third Pil­ler, [Page] wherein the middest of the Sheild vpon a field of Sineple, in Azure Letters was written these words: By mee is to bee gotten the honour of this aduenture. When he had taken it downe, he expected the comming of the third Knight: who ve­ry, soone after came forth in great haste, and without vsing any words, entred a more dangerous Combate then the other twaine passed: but I alemerin hauing cut off one of his armes, and wounded him very sore in many places on his body, brought him with long enduring the fight into such weaknesse, that hée fell downe, and yéelded vp the ghost at his feet.

This good Fortune caused the Prince to aduance himselfe to the fourth Pillar: where viewing the Sheild, he beheld in Letters of gold this good encouragement: In me remaineth the happy victorie. These words made him desirous to end this fortunate aduenture: when taking downe the shield, came out the fourth Champion with these spéeches. I did not think your fondnesse had béene such, that you could not content your selfe with a sufficient conquest: wherefore that your paiment may witnes your iust desert, prepare your selfe to receiue my hardy blowes. Palmerin not accustomed to make answere, in place where knightly strength ought to shew it selfe, deliuered him his mind in halfe a score strokes wellaid on, that (notwithstan­ding he was of more force then the other thrée) yet he serued him of the selfe same sauce, for ioy whereof, he kneeled downe and hartily gaue thanks to God, that his prouidence had permitted him to enter this hauty exploit. Then demanded he of y knight that had stood by al this while, and séene his noble behauiour, if there were any other aduenture in the Castle, that he should ha­zard himself against: to which request he made this answere. Credit me, worthy sir, there are as yet things to be finished, which I perswade my selfe may be accomplished by your wor­thinesse, because I well perceiue, in spight of any thing to the contrary, your valor must and will enter into this place. For in you haue I séene that, which I neuer thought to find in any, as your present behauiour constraineth me to confesse, that vertue so gouerneth all your actions, as shée will sée you Conquerour in any attempt you vndertake.

CHAP. LVIII.
How Palmerin hauing vanquished the three Knights, entred the Castle, where he likewise slewe a Giant that offered him resistance. And how he passed ouer a blacke riuer in great danger, where he met with the Enchantresse Eutro­pa, Aunt to the Giant Dramusiande, who threw her selfe headlong into the riuer, thinking to haue pulled the prince after her, but she failed of her pretence. Likewise, how the Knight (whose life he saued) reported to him the death of the three Knights of the Emperours Court, when they assayed to enter into the Castle, and deliuered to him Ba­zilliart and Germaine of Orleance, who were kept priso­ners there in a Dungeon, and certified him, that the Castle was called, the perillous Isle.

AFter that Palmerin had vanquished these foure Knights, and he sawe no more come to offer him resistance, accompanied with this other knight, he entred the Castell. Which being a thing of such admirable beautie, all about the Courts were pillars of Iasper stone, ten cubits in length, where­on many goodly chambers, and faire lod­gings were built, the Court paued with Marble, wrought into colours of red and gréene, with euery thing so curious and in­geniously framed about the Castle, that the Prince supposed it the most excellent thing that euer he had séene. When hee had wearied his eyes with beholding this sumptuous Paralell, hée walked thorow a faire Gallery, which brought him into a Hall of singular beautie: at the entrance whereof a mighty giant pre­sented himselfe before the prince, holding in his hand a knagged Mace of yron, which hee held vp in sight to resist his passage. Palmerin perceiuing his bold intēt, would not seeme to dismay himself: but remēbring how fortunately he had begun without, [Page] determined to ende as valiantly within. And so setling him to the Giant, found him play a while, but in the ende he payde him home, so that he made him quiet enough for speaking any more. Hauing thus worthily conquered his enemy, he walked a while vp and downe the Hall, till at last thorow a little gate, he entred into a more sumptuous Gallerie, wherein he could finde no way out, but first hée must passe ouer abroade place of water, where ouer was layde a little Boord or Planke, of so small breadth and strength, that he supposed it not able to abide the least wayght in the world. Faine he would haue béene on the further side, but this vnhappy place hindered his determina­tion, which mooued him to so many grieuous conceites, that he began greatly to blame his aduerse Fortune. For if the Boord did breake, he should fall into a water so blacke and ougly, that the Riuer Stix whereon Acheron carryeth the damned soules to hell, might not be compared to this fearefull lake. Well, ouer he would though it cost him his life, wherefore disarming him­selfe, because the heauinesse of his armor might be the chiefe oc­casion to breake the planke: with a good courage he beganne to venture vpon it, hauing nothing to defend him withall but his Swoord, what euer might happen. When he had attained al­most the middest, this olde rotten planke began somewhat to cracke, so that Palmerin then verily supposed, there was no o­ther remedy, but he must fall into the hellish gulfe, wherefore calling his faire Polinarda to memory, he began in this manner to desire her fauour.

Madame, if hitherto I haue aduenture my life, both in Mar­tiall exploytes, and dangerous attempts for your sake, crauing nothing at your handes but your ayde and fauour, I ought at this instant, by greater reason to wish for the same, séeing that now I try the greatest hazard, onely to aduance your honour. Whose friendship if I may be so happy as to finde, which is the onely meane to encourage me in this distresse, I shall assay such renowne on your behalfe, as you shall be faithfully serued, and my selfe for euer fully satisfied.

Thus concluding his spéeches, to his no little ioy, he had gai­ned the further side, when he perceiued an olde withered Crea­ture, [Page] to come forth at a doore into his presence, her face al wrink­led, her haire ougly blacke, and dispearsed all abroad ouer her her shoulders, so staying awhile began in this manner.

What estimation shall I make of my selfe? or what shall I iudge all my cunning to auaile, which can warrant me safetie in no place, but suffers me to be vanquished by one knight so of­ten? Then stretching forth her hand to take hold on Palmerin, verily thinking to plucke him after her, she cast her selfe head­long into that filthy puddle, ending her life as wickedly, as her tretcherous and villanous déeds had deserued.

The Prince séeing she had failed of her intent, and ouer­come with sadnesse at this wretched sight, went through diuers chambers to get downe, where he found many Mayden fer­uants, of whom he enquired for the knigt, whose life he saued in the Combate, and when he had found him, he desired him to shew the name of this Castle, as also what she was that had so desperately drowned her selfe.

Worthy Sir (answered the knight) the proofe of your noble valour is such, that I cannot conceale any thing from you, which may do you pleasure to know, wherfore marke what I shall shew vnto you. This Castle is called by the name of the Perillous Ile, whereof some hold opinion, that the Sage Vrgan­da was the first founder and Lady, and that in this place she hid her selfe because after her heath this Castle remained En­chanted, so that no person could attaine to inhabite here, in this order she left this faire Pallace, and the Fountaine which you sée a little from the Gate. And because you may the easier beleeue it, it was no longer agoe then sithence our time, that it was inhabited by any, who could giue assurance of the scitua­tion of this Ile, but only the Dame who is drowned, who was named Eutropa, Aunt to the Giant Dramusiande. For after he was vanquished by the prowes of a famous knight of Eng­land, she coeceiued such inward sorrow, that she had almost di­straught her selfe of her wits, and to reuenge his mishap, she sent with all speede to the Soldan of Babylon, that he should prepare a mightie Army, wherewith he might ruinate the Ci­tie of Constantinople, and the whole Empire of Greece.

[Page] But her diuelish desire could not take effect, because the Sol­dane had enough to doe with his owne subiects, who had raised themselues in a mutany and open rebellion against him, for which cause, shee seeing all her drifts could not accomplish her wish, came vnto this place, accompanied with the thrée knights that you haue slaine and my selfe, so were we performed (more by her damnable Art, thē any volantary affection of our selues) into this Isle, where round about she hath so dispersed her en­chantments, that she might allure all wandring knights vnder her power, either to slay them presētly, or to kéepe them in con­tinuall orizon. And to satisfie her insatiable and bloody desire, we here haue maintained her safety a long time, being alwayes so fortunate, that many knights we slew, & some we tooke captiue. But it chanced not long since in an euening, that Fortune con­ducted hither fiue noble knights, who after we had slaine thrée of thē, the other twaine conquered me, and two of my fellowes, but yet at last they were brought in subiection of the fourth knight, and remaine as prisoners here in the Castle. I pray you sir (said Palmerin) shew me the names of the thrée knights that were slaine, as also the Prison where the other two are, that I may bestow vpon them their former libertie: to which demand he made this answere. The first Knight was called Medrusian the Fearefull: the second, Titubal the Blacke: and the third was Foruolant the Strong: whom I am sure sometime you haue séene, in the Emperour Palmerins court at Constantinople. In­déed (quoth Palmerin) I haue séene their great ill wil, & wicked disposition, which was alway bent to molest & trouble him, that wished them most good, and euer honoured them: wherfore the lesse I estéeme their losse, but rather reioyce that the world hath cut off their enuious practises. During the time of this talke, they were come to the place where the two Prisoners lay, who were without any company, by reason of y smal abode Eutropa as then had made in that place, wherein she had determined to execute such tyranous cruelty, y this Castle should be ten times more feared, then that where Dramusiande made his abiding. But the Sage Aliart, to whom all her drifts and practises w [...]re discouered, willing to stop all the mischiefes that this Enchant­tresse [Page] did striue to commit, caused Palmerin to enter the Ship, which he had sent for that purpose, only thorow him to disapoint her vile pretence. Downe went the Knight with the Prince to the prison, carying a Torch lighted in his hand, because it was so déepe vnder the ground, as a man might shoote with a Crosse­bow in length, which moued Palmerin to be greatly agast, thin­king on the paines the two knights endured, in such an obscure and vncomfortable Prison, which made him to enter into th [...]se words. Certainly this Castle can I hardly beleeue to be erected by Vrganda, for that as the report goeth of her, she was neuer w [...]ont to vse cruelty to any wandring knights. At last they came to a grate, which they opened, & saw whereas the two knights were, attending the cōming of some to do them villainy as they supposed, rather then to set them at liberty, which was the least part of their thought, whē presently the Prince knew them, the one was Bazilliart, the other Germaine of Orleance, who had great yrons vpon their legs, and yron chaines about their mid­dles, which caused him presently to fall into teares, and not able to suffer that they should abide any longer in that heauy case, cō ­manded the knight to take off their chaines and irons. But Ba­zilliart did not like this very well, because he feared they should now be lead to some tormēts: wherefore he began to speake vn­to them as thus. Sir knight, you might doe vs more pleasure, to let vs rest in this captiuity, then to lead vs now to any place of punishmēt. Sir Bazilliart (said Palmerin) they that imprisoned you in this place, would hardly consent to deliuer you so soone. Then minding to put them out of this feare, he would not hide himselfe any longer, but but off his Helmet: when Germaine of Orleance catching him in his armes, renued his acquaintance in this order. I sée well, Sir Palmerin, that hereafter I must a­bandon all foolish feare, because your prowesse is wholly apply­ed to redéeme their captiuity, on whom fortune bēdeth her low­ring browes, as Dramusiande can amply testifie. After they had saluted one another very courteously, they came presently forth of this noysome prison, and then they were all conducted into a very faire chamber, where after they had refreshed their hungry stomacks, they discoursed with each other, what had hapned in their sundry aduentures.

CHAP. LVIIII.
How during the time, that Palmerin remained in this Castle called the Perrillous Isle, accompanied with Bazilliart, Germaine of Orleance, and Sa [...]ransfort the Knight that keepeth the Castle, Francian and O [...]stalde (who at their departure from Siluian, tooke vpon them them to trauaile in the Princes search) arriued there at the Castle, with whom Palmerin departed from ahence. And how sayling on the Sea, he attained the Coast of Spaine, where being desirous to see the faire Miragarda, he changed his Armor, and vnder the title of the Dispayring Knight, he trauailed toward the Castle of the Giant Almarol.

LOng time these Knightes spent in their friendly discourses, till it drewe towards night, when the Knight of the Castle na­med Satransfort, had prouided two faire beds, one for the Prince Palmerin, and another for his two companions, who that night tooke more quietnes, then since their first comming into the Castle. In the mor­ning they concluded to depart from thence, but first they desi­red, to sée all the Chambers and commodities in this goodly Castell, which they found so rare and excellently ordered, that they could not chuse but commend it, as it did highly de­serue.

Then walked they from thence to the Fountaine, yéelding no lesse laud to the noble Conquest of Palmerin, then the dan­gerous attempt of such an exployte did worthily merite. Re­turning vnto the Castle, where, at the earnest request of Sa­transfort, they staied for the space of foure dayes, and comming [Page] foorth in an afternoone, to sit in the pleasant shadow vnder the gréene Trées, they espied a farre off two knights come hastily ryding, who were presently knowne by their Shields: for they were Francian and Onistalde, endeuoring themselues to séeke the Prince Palmerin. At such time as Siluian had declared vnto them the losse of his Lord, such was their good fortune, that they came to the place where Palmerin entred the shippe, and there they found passengers ready to crosse the seas, so that by intrea­tie they sealed with them, hauing such fayre winde and tyde, that at length they discouered the Perillous Isle. This place made all the Passengers greatly abashed, because they were both ignorant of the soyle, and knew not the danger they might receiue in that place: yet at the request of the two knights, they were somewhat pacified, & set them on land in the same place, where Palmerin entred first on shore. When they had attained the top of the hye Rockes, they came to the Pillar that had the fearefull sentence vpon it, which vsing very litle regard (because the affection they bare vnto their deare friend, incited them for­ward) they came as I haue told you, both into y fight & know­ledge of the Prince and the Knights: where they were recey­ued very curteously, and imbraced on another, in token of their mutuall and inuiolate friendship.

During the time of their abiding there, they visited the noble aduenture of the Fountaine, and also the dead bodies of Titu­ball, Medrusian & Foruolant: then came they to the place where Eutropa drowned her selfe, all the way extolling the worthy Prowesse of him, that had the power to atchieue and ende such singular exploytes. When occasion so fell that they would néedes depart, Palmerin left the Castle, in the custody of the gentle knight Satransfort, intending to make a present of it to the noble Sage Aliart. So friendly departing from thence, they came to the Sea side, where they inbarqued themselues among diuers Passengers: the foure Knightes by themselues, and Palmerin alone as was his desire. When they were enired the seas, from the sight of any land, Sage Aliart who conducted the ship of the Prince, made him to sayle a contrary way from the other Knights, so that he knewe not where he should land: al­thought [Page] he had determined to goe to Constantinople, to sée his Lady the faire Polinarda, for whose sake his heart endured di­uerse grieuous thoughts and passions.

At length, such was his fortune, that he attained the Coast of Spaine, which pleased him very well, because he would try his valour in the presence of the faire Miragarda, to the intent that he might know, if her beauty were comparable to his Mi­stresse Polinarda. When he was come to the chiefe city of Por­tugal, he heard maruellous commendations of Florendos the Tristfull Knight, who because his father Primaleon had bruised his armour very sore, made himselfe a notable faire new armor, and hauing done many famous Actes in the Court of Recinde King of Spaine, came home at last to the Castle of the Giant Almarol. Miragarda so soone as he was there arriued, would néedes know of his successe before the Castle of the Giant Dra­musiande, albeit she had béene admonished thereof before, yet would she neuer accept of that which the Tristfull Knight had done in England, but was of this mind, that whatsoeuer he had done, she made no account of it. But being desirous to sée, if his déedes might bee agréeable to the reputation hee had deserued, commanded him to kéepe the passage there at her Castle, thin­king that so many good Knightes would endeu our themselues thither, so that this aduenture should be as much renowned, as was the Castle of Dramusiande.

The Tristfull Knight, loath in any thing to displease the faire Miragarda, caused ther a Sheelde to be made with the Image of her beauty, the report whereof allured so many Knights thither, that in her defence he had conquered more then two hundred, from whom he tooke their shields, and in re­membrance of his victory, hanged them vp on either side the faire Portraite of his Lady. Miragarda perceiuing by the Shieldes, the Prowesse of Florendos the Tristfull knight, re­ceiued an vnspeakeable contentment, yet making no shew of praise, for this so hauty an enterprise: where to his noble victo­ry we will leaue him, & returne to the prince Palmerin, who is trauialing in Portugal. In al this time, he had made him an ex­cellent faire armour, spotted with colours of scarlet and white: [Page] which gaue such great delight to them who beheld it, that euery one was desirous to make himselfe the like.

In his Shield on a plaine of Sinople, was curiously figured the Image of Deadly Hope, which was so singular well orde­red, for the liuelinesse of her face and lineaments, as also the séemels shadowing of her attire, that euery one iudged it a very naturall proportion: her name was likewise presented vnder her, so that through this deuice, he was named of euery one the Despairing Knight. In this manner he ridde toward the Ca­stle of Almarol, very desirous to trie his force, in this aduenture esteemed of so great fame, not fearing the perill, if Fortune should vnkindly turne her selfe from him. But perswaded him­selfe, that it was vnpossible to attaine the top of Honour, if a man doe not hazard his person in those places, where victorie is worthily presented to the minde that beareth the affection, to leaue perpetuall renowne to his posteritie.

CHAP. LX.
How Palmerin, vnder the title of the Disparing Knight, came to the Castle of the Giant Almarol, where hee saw the shields of diuers famous Knights and his very friends, were hanged among the number of the vanquished: whereup­on he entred the Combat against the Tristfull Knight, whose strength was such, that neither of them could win the victorie. And how Miragarda tooke such anger there­at, that shee commanded the Tristfull Knight, to absent himselfe from thence, and to weare no armour for the space of twelue moneths.

[Page] CErtaine aduentures, which are not to bee mentioned, were finished by the Prince Palmerin, in the time hee trauelled to­wardes the Castle of the Giant Alma­rol: where when hee arriued, hée was greatly abashed, to see it placed on such a hie Rocke, which was a sore trouble for a­ny to come vnto it. The Desparing Knight being come some­what néere it, espied two Knights were entred the Combat, which being desirous to see, hee set spurres to his Horse, to bee there before they had mad an end: but before he could come thi­ther, the Tristfull Knight had vanquished his aduersarie, and placed his sheild among the other: by which meanes Palmerin had certaine knowledge of the conquered Knight, who was called Carmelant, as the writing vnder his sheild made mani­fest.

Palmerin beholding so manie Shields about this Trée, esteemed the valour of the Tristfull Knight of great repu­tation: at last hee perceiued the shelds of Frisoll, Estrellant, and Tenebrant, who were his friendes, and of great re­nowne, whereat he was so amazed, that he knew not what to say.

But when he saw the Picture of Miragarda, which represen­ted such beauty, as his senses were rauished, he could procéed no farther till he had vsed these spéeches. Certainly Madam, I see at this present the thing I neuer thought to doe, and cannot thinke amisse of your knight, who may wel hazard his life for so hare a Goddesse: but yet I desire to approue my selfe against him, bearing this opinion with me, that the beautie of his best fauored and beloued, neither is or may be equalled with her, for whose sake I will aduenture the Combat.

The Tristfull Knight hearing these words, could not with­hold himselfe, but returned the Prince this answere. If your chastisement and correction sir Knight, were giuen according as your proud wordes haue deserued, you should bee repaied with extreame crueltie. Wherefore, fearing least in fauouring [Page] you, I shall deserue a rash report my selfe: I will try if your va­lo [...] be such as may maintaine the dishonour you haue vngent­ly offered Hereupon they fetched their carire, and met together with so great a force, that they were both enforced to abandon their horses, and drawing foorth their swords, they deliuered one another such rigorous blowes, as one would haue iudged, nei­ther of them able to endure.

The Giant Almarol abashed at this noble Combate, called the faire Miragarda to come and sée it, hauing spread a faire cloath of Gold along the windowe, and a very rich Cushion whereon she leaned, her Damoselles standing by her to behold this Knightly Chiualry. When shee had presented her selfe in the windowe, the two Champions retired themselues to take a little pause, by which meanes the Tristfull knight gained the commoditie, to contemplate his faire Miragarda with these tearmes. What man is he, albeit his state were oppressed with neuer so much debilitie, that would not assure himselfe to re­maine victor, maintaining the qua [...]rell of so excellent and rare a Iewell? In like manner, Palmerin complained to his faire Polinarda, but to breake of these cogitations, they began cou­ragiously againe, the Tristfull knight beholding his Lady with great griefe, that he could not vanquish this Knight, hauing be­fore fayled so many. Very forceable were the assaultes they gaue one another, their Armour cut and cruelly mangled, their blood effused on the ground where they fought, their Shieldes broken in an hundreth pieces, so that they were faine to take breath againe, as vnable to endure such penitrable and grie­uous trauaile.

Palmerin standing leaning vpon his Swoord, beholding his Armour reduced into such estate, aud remembring the cause of his entrance into the Combate, with a sad conceyt he beganne to say. Madame, either I am not sufficient to doe you seruice, or else you estéeme so litle of mine affection, that I am vnworthy to be your seruant. As none but you grant me the honor of this fight, hauing the onely power to maister me: so I desire you to assist me with your friendly fauour, since I haue made hazard of my life, to aduance the fame of your loyaltie, and suffer not [Page] this Knight to remaine the Victor, séeing, in mine eye, his La­dy neither may nor will presume aboue you. The Tristfull Knight walked vp and downe, debating with himselfe on the ende of the combat, which he began somewhat to feare, because in all his life time, he had not dealt with a more hardy and vali­ant Knight, wherefore lifting vp his eyes to the place where Mirgarda stood, he began to discouer his minde as thus.

I had sometime (déere Mistresse) a Sister named Polinarda, whose beautie, both of others and my selfe, was estéemed the most rare and perfect on the earth, but after I had beh [...]lde the inequall state of your surpassing beauty, I perceiued my iudge­ment on her to be very grosse, in so much as she neither may or ought, to paragon her selfe with your heauenly perfection. Wherfore swéete Mistresse doe me the honour, that your fauor may support me against mine enemy, and suffer me not that haue béene vanquished by your beautie, to be brought into such subiection to any other.

Then féeling themselues somewhat refreshed, they charged one another againe very valiantly, and continued frustrate of their expectations so long, ye they caught one another about the middest, endeuouring that way who should gette the maistrie, but they laboured in vaine, for their strengthes were of such e­qualitie, that one could hardly iudge who had the greater ad­uantage.

Miragarda commended this Combat, for the best that euer she had seene, and desired that the victory might returne to the Tristfull Knight, but both her wish and expectation was de­ceiued, for the night approching so fast vpon them, they had not the commoditie to trie for the conquest.

Then came foorth the Giant Almarol, and by his intreatie they parted themselues, because indéede they could hardly sée one another, so Palmerin returned about halfe a mile from that place, where he remained till his woundes were healed, deter­ming when he had gained a little more strength, to come againe to the Castle, where he would so knightly behaue himselfe, that he would beare the Shielde of Miragarda from thence, as the honour of his prize to Constantinople.

[Page] Almarol conducted the Tristfull Knight into his Chamber, which was there in the field, where he alwaies vsed to lodge: but Miragarda being greatly offended, that he had not the po­wer to vanquish the Prince (standing vpon the triall betwéene her beauty, and the Lady of the valiant Palmerin) sent a messen­ger to Florendos with these tidings. That he should straight­way absent himselfe from that place, and not to weare any Ar­mour for the space of twelue monethes, because he had not béen so fortunate, to vanquish his enemy in so iust a cause. This grée­ting was so displeasant to the Tristfull Knight, that he became resolute, to make his life in sorrow, agreeable to his pensiue name, verily supposing, that Fortune had determined his vtter detriment.

CHAP. LXI.
How the Tristfull Knight, at the commandement of his Ladie Miragarda, departed from the Castle of Almarol, accom­panied with his Esquire Armello, who brought backe his Masters Sheeld and Armor, and left it at the Tree among the other conquered Knights. And how Florendos met a Shepheard in his trauell, with whom he ioyned in such a­mitie, that they vowed neuer to leaue one another. And how the Prince Palmerin returning to ende the Combat, was certified by Armello, in the cause of his masters de­parture, wherefore he likewise presently departed from thence.

[Page] WHen the Tristfull Knight had receiued this sharpe Message of Miragarda, being loth in any thing to disobay her minde, hee called his Esquire Armello, to whom he bare great loue and affection, and going into a little thicket of Trees, the brinish teares trilling downe his cheekes, he began to his Esquire this heauie discourse. Armello my friend, soo here the guerdon that frowning Fortune, in recom­pence of my trauailes hath ordained for me: which how pati­ently I suffer, both God, thy selfe, and these sollitary woods re­maine my witnesse, that I am neither moued at this mishap, nor storme against her great discurtesie: but say with the Phi­losopher, Patience is the most noble conquest. Yet had I alway this opinion with me, that my trusty trauaile deserued a better reward, and that but onely respecting my faith, I did worthily merit some moitie of friendship. And what of that? thy ioy, thy mirth. thy happinesse, and all thy comfort in the world, is chan­ged to the hard lot of all misfortune, onely be thou patient & pre­uaile, vsing this for thy continual Epithite: Quid non facit Amor? Yet haue I one hope, which will be my chiefest remedie in this extreame affliction: that Death will spéedily finish my heauie complaints, and cut off the miseries wherwith I am so cruelly assaulted.

Wherfore my good friend Armello, as thou wilt manifest thy wonted curtesie, and pleasure me now in mine extreame néede, take here my Horse and Armor, and depart to Constantinople, and there giue forth for a certaine truth, that Death hath clai­med his due at my hands▪ and that I haue ended my life in this vnfortunate aduenture: wherein I know thou shalt not do a­misse, because my griefe doth assure me, I shall ende, and that right soone. Onely let me request at thine hands, that thou conceale my late mishap to thy selfe, and let neither friend nor foe vnderstand it, but say to euery one, thou art a witnes of my death.

[Page] Armello hearing the words of his Master, which strooke in­to his heart a grieuous and extreame passion, with the teares in his eyes, he began in this manner. Trust me my Lord, I know no place that can content me more, or be any thing like to my desire, then in your oppression to beare you companie: whom if I should forsake, God knowes the danger might hap­pen to you, as also the sorrow I should conceiue of my selfe. Neither doe I thinke it expedient to blaze abroad your death, because a number of mishappes might arise thereby, which en­tring seuerely the minds of your friends, will much more séeme displeasant to your Parents and alliance. Wherefore, a while beare with the furie of Miragarda▪ and thinke not but her own rash dealing, will ere long moue her vnto repentance: by that time shee hath considered your faithfull seruice, how her aspyring minde hath beene honourably maintained by you, shee will recall her vngentle wordes, and recompence you with that you haue deserued worthily: therefore expect a while good Sir, and all will frame well enough I warrant you.

I know (answered Florendos) the perfection of thy trustie zeale is so carefully bent for my welfare, that in the despaire I am at this present, I haue small occasion to thinke on it. For I know my fault is such as I shall not be fauoured, and her in­gratitude so seuerely bent against me, as were all the torments in the world adioined, they might not deserue comparison with her great displeasure. Yet what is that knighit in all the world, that would haue been vanquished, seeing he defended the onely Phaenix of beautie? or where is he that would not haue made hazard of his last extremitie, being encouraged to the Com­bate by such an excellent meane? And can such crueltie dwel in such a poorelesse person, or such an angry minde harbour vnder so faire a face: Well, Fo [...]san & h [...]c [...]lim meminisse iu [...]abit. But tel me, how can I esteeme of my selfe, hauing been conquerour o­uer so many, and could not bring in obeysance this one knight? Certainely I perswade my selfe, that on him I haue vsed lesse prowesse, then in any aduenture wherein thou hast seene mée, Wherfore, I haue good occasion to take it heauily, & to lament [Page] the honour I haue lost, being exiled from her gracious presence. Therefore good Armello, receiue here my Horse and Armour, and suffer me to walke alone in heauinesse, that am the cause of mine owne hurt.

After he had ended these spéeches, he forsooke Armello, and wandring along by a Riuer side, till at last he sate him downe vnder a Tree, desir [...]us to receiue a little rest, but the vexations of his minde would hardly suffer him. When hee awaked, hee perceiued a great heard of shéepe féediug in the Pasture ground by him: and vnder a tree neere by, hee saw a Shepheard play­ing on an Instrument, whereto he recorded so many swéet dit­ties, that Florendos tooke great pleasure to sit and heare him, perswading himselfe, that the Shepheard was not of such base condition as he seemed, because his deuises was so excellent wel ordered, both in the commendation of Loue, as also the great iniuries he had receiued thereby. The Tristfull Knight well no­ting his complaints, and that Fortune had conducted him to the place, where he might enioy a partner to liue in heauinesse, he came and vsed such friendly meanes, that in short time they grew into good liking of each of other, Florendos béeing very glad, that hee had met such a friend to the solitarie life. After that the Shepheard had vttered the secrets of his mind, and the Tristfull Knight had bewraied the sum of his griefe, they vowed such amitie to remaine betwéene each other, that no misfortune should haue power so sunder their friendship.

Armello hauing stood musing a good while, that his Master was gone out of sight, and determined to trauell without any company he came backe againe to the castle of Almarol, where at the foote of the Trée, directly vnder the Shield of the faire Miragarda, he placed his Masters Shield and Armour among the vanquished Knights. And there in the presenc [...] of Mira­g [...]rda, hee vttered so many rufull and grieuous complaintes, that they would haue mooued any gentle heart to compassion: but shee being entered into such great disdaine, esteemed them not worthie of any account, but triumphed in the paines of the Tristfull Knight, whom at this time wee will leaue in the Shepheards company.

[Page] Now the prince Palmerin hauing his wounds wel cured, and prouided him of a new Armour, because his other was cruelly defaced, returned to the castle of the Giant Almarol, intending not to depart from thence, before he had conquered the Tristfull Knight. When he was arriued at the Castle, he heard the la­mentations, that Armello vsed, whereby he vnderstood, that the Tristfull Knight was the renowned Prince Florendos, which moued him to great displeasure, because he had entred the Com­bat against him. And then he supposed, that the hatred of Mira­garda, might worke an occasion of some greater mischance, in that the losse of so valliant a Prince as Florendos was, might cause the great griefe of the Emperour Palmerin, as also the Lords and Ladies of his royall Court. These thoughts vrged the Prince to so great vnquietnes, that he could not determine whether he might abide there in that place, or pursue after the Prince Florendos, to cause him abandon that Tristful kinde of life, and be a remedie to eny misfortune that might annoy him, by meanes of the princesse Miragarda, whom he supposed to be the fayrest Lady that euer he had séene. Thus musing vpon a thousand matters, as also the beauty of Miragarda, to compare with the heauenly hew of his Lady & Mistresse, at last, remem­bring the effect of his duty, hée set spurs to his Htrse, and gal­loped from thence, not respecting which way he went, but desi­rous to attaine the Citie of Consantinople.

CHAP. LXII.
How the Giant Dramusiande, accompanied with Siluian, ar­riued at the Castle of the Giant Almarol, where being a­morous of the Picture of the Miragarda, hee entred the Combate with Almarol, and foyled him. And how Mira­garda gaue into his custodie her Portrait, as also the kee­ping of the passage, against the Knightes that came thi­ther.

[Page] HEre we must remember the Giant Dra­musiande, who after he had trauailed ma­ny strange Countries, accompanied with Siluian, to finde againe the Prince Pal­merin) arriued at the Castle of the Giant Almarol, within a while after the Prince was departed from thence. When he had beheld the Castle hee desired so long to sée, and could perceiue neither any body néere or about it, he came to the Trée which he saw was laden with the Shields of the van­quished Knights, whose names being subscribed vnderneath e­uery one made him to haue knowledge of diuers that had bene there foyled.

At last, at the soote of the Trée, he espyed the armour & shéeld of the Tristfull knight, which made him greatly to muse: that the Armour of the Conquerour should deserue no better estima­tion, then to be placed there among the number of the vanqui­shed. Néere to the Armour he beheld Armello, who hauing en­dured his teares and pittifull complaints a long time, at length chanced to fall fast asléepe, but Dramusiande desirous to heare some tidings, vsed such meanes, that he awaked him. But when he vnderstood of the aduentures of the Fortresse, as also the de­parture of the Tristfull knight, he began greatly to rebuke him­selfe, in that his Fortune failed to encounter with so good a Knight, whose Shield he would haue placed as highest on the Trée, but that Armello desired him to the contrary.

Dramusiande taking good viewe on the picture of Miragarda, was brought on a suddaine into such an alteration, that his stout and hauty stomacke could not any way resist, the cutting cares that ouercharged his mind, yea he was brought into such a great quandary, that he could not hold his Launce, but trem­bling as a leafe stirred with the wind, euē so he stood (as it were) cleane bereft of his sences, whereupon he began to vtter these spéeches.

Madame, beholding in this Portrait, the beauty wherwith [Page] Nature hath plentifully adorned you, I wish and desire to kéep this Passage, that I might by my faithfull seruice, make you re­nowned thorow the whole world. For since your countenance hath the courage, to conquere this heart of mine, which as yet was neuer done by any, I desire that vnder your noble con­quest, I may endeuor my strength to exalt your Princely beau­ty, which who so dare presume to speake against, shall receiue the punishment due to so great an offence.

While he continued in this amorous thought, the Giant Almarol came brauely forth of my Castell, whom Miragarda had sent, being offended to sée the Giant Dramusiande, where­fore aduancing himselfe in his presence, Almarol deliuered him this greeting. Sir Knight, I thinke it might be more for your auaile, to set your sheild in the rancke of the vanquished, then thus to busie your selfe in beholding this Portrait, which thing I would rather perswade you too by gentlenesse, then to shew you the constraint that may happen by my force, to which words Dramusiande replied thus.

If I were perswaded, that the Mistresse of this picture, wold be pleased with so small a matter, I had rather accomplish thy desire, then to doe any thing that might returns the contrarie, for then my trauaile should be little, my losse lesse, and my heart at libertie, where now it remaineth captiue. And because I would gladly receuer it againe, I entend to enter the Combats with thee, to the intent thou maist report, thy words could not foile mee, nor yet thy workes had the puissance to daunt mee. Almarol, who naturally was accustomed to cruelty, and not of such courtesie as was the gentle Dramusiande, receiued these speeches in very angrie manner, and being both ready proui­ded, encountred with their Speares valiantlie together. Be­ing both throwne beside their Horses, they charged one ano­ther very fiercely with their Swordes, and Miragarda stan­ding in her window to behold this exploite, gaue great com­mendation to the behauiour of Dramusiande, whom she feared would ouercome the Giant Almarol. When they had sore hurt and well wearied themselues, they retired a while to take a little pause, when Dramusiande beholding the faire Miragarda [Page] was suddenly stroken into such amaze, that the remembrance of the Combat was cleane out of his minde. Almarol séeing in­to what estate he was brought, only with beholding the face of Miragarda, awaked him out of his study with such a sure stroke on the Creast, that the Sword cleft it, and wounded him very sore vpon the head. Which Dramusiande taking in very il part, returned to Almarol with so great fury, that he inforced him to start this way and that way, as glad to auoide the blowes wherewith he was charged. At last Almarol fell to the earth, when Dramusiande setting his foote vpon him, vnclasped his Helmet, because he would haue smitten off his head, but Mira­garda presently sent downe one of her Damosels, named Lar­demia, who staied Dramusiande with these words.

Most noble knight, the Princesse Miragarda by me doth sent intreaty, that you would satisfie your selfe with the honor of your victorie, and not to depriue the Giant of life, whose losse might be more griefe to her, then all your indeuours can any way recompence. Madame (answered Dramusiande) I not onely grant him life, at the request of such a gracious Prin­cesse, but vow my selfe to keepe her famous Shield, if so bee she can except of my loyall seruice, and if Fortune conduct any Knight hether, that can conquere me, I desire her (setting all pittie aside) that she will suffer me to enioy the death, so shall both my trauailes and troubles, possesse a long wished ende. Lardemia hauing lead Almarol into the Castle, out at the win­dow returneth him this answere. Sir knight, my Lady and Mistresse sendeth you a thousand thankes, and in recompence of your courtesie, committeth the safegard of her shield into your hands, wishing good Fortune may alway gouerne your enterprise.

Dramusiande at these words was greatly cōtented, because he desired aboue all things to pleasure the faire Miragarda, whose beauty had depriued him of his wonted libertie, forcing him in loue to grow somewhat amorous. For which cause he remai­ned there, kéeping this faire Portraite, accomplishing such hau­tie déedes of Chiualrie, as was altogether supposed incredible: but the honour which he got, had no long time of tarriance, for [Page] that fortune hauing a while fauoured him, at last in her anger she forsooke him: euen as she is accustomed to falsifie her pro­mise to those whom she perceiueth haue any entrance into pro­speritie.

CHAP. LXIII.
How Dramusiande, keeping the shield and passage of the Gi­ant Almarol, entred the Iust with the Prince Gracian and Don Rosuel, of whom he had the victory, and ended their strife with friendly acquaintance.

ON the next morning, Dramusiande to ac­complish his promise to the faire Miragar­da, came foorth and sate downe at the Tree, where the Portraite and the Knightly Shields were placed, vsing such grieuous complaints, that Siluian marueiled to sée so mighty a man brought into such subiection by the force of loue. The faithfull and trusty Esquire Armello, kéeping them company, and frequenting still his grieuous mones, thought none worthy to kéepe such a preci­ous treasure, as was the shield of the faire Miragarda, but one­ly his Lord and Maister, who did best of all deserue it: wherfore being not able to conceale the passions his heart conceiued, be­gan in this manner to the Giant Dramusiande. I knowe well sir Knight, that Fortune hath greatly fauoured you, in that my master is absent, and you kéepe the Iewell of his ioy: but durst hée shewe himselfe in this place, which he is constrained to for­sake by the command of Miragarda, you should well perceiue, that her faire Portrait is to be kept by none but he: whereto Dramusiande replied thus.

[Page] My friend, the faith and affection thou bearest to thy Maister, séemeth to me worthy of great commendation. And as his déeds remaine a true confirmation and witnesse of your woryes, yet you must not vse any euill suspect to him, who is altogether vn­knowne of you, and would also enter combate wich your Mai­ster, were he present in this place. And if it were any chauce to to be vanquished by him, I would content my selfe to be placed among these other conquered, whose assurance haue béene as likely as mine, and peraduenture it might be more to my pro­fite, if I left my Shield vnder her obeysance, whose will I one­ly séeke to satisfie, by ending my life in such a hautie enterprise. Againe, it might so fortune, if it were your chance to sée me com­bate wish your Maister, you would conceiue another opinion th [...]n as yet you doe, and iudge me either better or worse, then I perceiue at this present you make your account. Wherefore I perswade my selfe, that I am as well worthy and able to kéepe and defend this shield of the faire Miragarda, as the knight your Maister, who is vnknown to me, albeit I confesse, not so wor­thy of her, as he that hath so déerly deserued her, not onely (I am sure) by this notable cōquests, but also by proofe of this knight­ly curtesie. For if I should that way equal my selfe with him, It might well be thought no trueth remained in me. And if you shall stay here a certaine space, I doubt not but you shall sée as hauty attempts ended, as at any time haue béene by your Mai­ster finished.

While he continued these spéeches, hée espied a farre off two knights, come riding along the Riuer side: one of them had his Armour coloured blacke and white, with diuers borders of Gold finely wrought vpon it, bearing in his Shield for his de­uice, a murthered body in a campe of Sinople: the other had his Armour of a gréene colour, very thicke beset with Lyons of Gold, & in his shield two Lions rampant. These twaine were no sooner arriued at the Castle, but Dramusiande incontiuently knew them: for the one was Don Rosuel, and the other was the Prince Gracian, who sometime had béene his Prisoners, and whose amitie hée alwayes made great account of. But albeit their friendship was very acceptable to him, yet the pro­mise [Page] he had made Miragarda, commanded him to the contra­ry, confidering also that loue had gotten the maisterie of him, and directing his minde in this enterprise, made him neither to spare friend nor foe, but vsed all alike that trauailed thither. Then mounting on his stéed, he came forth before them, when they perceiuing he prouided himselfe to the Iuste, were very well pleased, because they desired to approue their strength, in the behalfe of the faire Miragarda. But casting their eyes on her beautifull Picture, which they beheld in the middest of the Shieldes that Florendos had conquered, they were supprised with such a suddaine amazement, that they had quite forgotten for what cause they came thither: which Dramusiande seeing, addressed himselfe to them, with this manner of salutation.

Sir Knights, the Portraite of this Lady is not here placed, to be contemplated with so great ease, but hée that desireth to enioy such a Iewell, must first combate against me, who deny­eth him that priuiledge, till I am vanquished, and if that For­tune in this respect doe fauour him, yet shall he féele a double torment by remayning Victor.

Trust me (answered the Prince Gracian) if a mans life may ataine the honour of such a singular personage, behold him who hath the courage to aduenture first. So concluding his spéeches, he met Dramusiande valiantly with the breake of the Speare, which was with such force, that hee was throwne to the earth with so strong a violence, that for a great while he was voyde of any feeling. This mooued Don Rosuel to such displeasure, that to reuenge his friend, hée pricked foorth against Dramusi­ande, who being ready prouided with another Speare, sent him to beare the Prince Gracian company.

This rude encounter made them both maruaile, and suppo­sed that their enemy was the renowned Palmerin of England, whereof being desirous to be resolued, Gracian as the hardiest of them both, with his swoord drawne in his hand, entred into these tearmes. Sir Knight, althogh Fortune hath béene your friend to foyle vs in the Iuste, yet I pray you to discende on foote, to the ende we may finish the Combat with the swoord, because I would trie your valour to the vttermost, if I may [Page] depart from hence with the benefite of my life. Dramusiande, who was euer accustomed to great bounty and gentlenesse, see­ing the desire of the Prince Gracian, on whom he had gotten the honour of the victory, would not in that respect satis [...]ie his mind, but made him answere in this maner. Sir Gracian, I do not make so small estimation of your life, that I would be the man sh [...]uld bring you into such danger, beséeching you not to take in all part, that which I haue already so boldly ventured, be­ing my selfe bound by duty, to doe any thing I may for your ho­nourable welfare.

Gracian hearing himselfe named by the Knight, of whom he had no knowledge, was greatly abashed, and replyed thus.

Worthy sir, since my fortune hath béene so good, as to obtaine the friendship of so hardy a Knight, I estéeme my selfe the hap­piest vnder the Sun, desiring to haue knowledge of you, if you shall finde it expedient. At these wordes, Dramusiande tooke off his Helmet, when presently they both ranne and imbraced him: conceiuing such an vnspeakeable ioy for his company, that their mischance was now put cleane out of memorie, because they iudged it no shame, to be foyled at the handes of Dramusi­ande: of whom they requested, for what cause he remained in that place. To satisfie their desires, he recited the whole occasion of his iourney, and how he made promise to Miragarda (after he had conquered the Giant Almarol) to kéepe the Shield in that place, vntill some Knight by his prowesse could bring him vnder his obeysan [...]. Certainly (said Don Rosuel) then I per­ceiue you intended to keepe it all your life time, because I knowe nothing but death can ouercome you. Trust me (quoth y prince Gracian) I haue in times past, both extolled & verily belieued, that my faire Claritia might be equall with any for her beautie, but hauing now beh [...]ld this admirable Miragarda, I exempt from minde all other, desiring to accomplish the meane that I might doe her seruice. And credite me (said Don Rosuel) I haue so forgotten the loue I bare to my Lady, that if I depart not the sooner from hence, I shall fall into contempt, both of her, and all other Ladies, giuing the onely laud to this péerelesse Mira­garda. Then mounting on Horsebacke, he ridde away so fast as [Page] possible he could: in like maner the Prince Gracian possed pre­sently after him, neither of them vsing any friendly departing to the Giant Dramusiande, who could not refrain from laugh­ter, to think on the weake stomacks of these two Princes.

CHAP. LXIIII.
How Palmerin of England trauailing toward Constantino­ple, laid him downe to sleepe hard by a faire Castle, from whence came foure Ladies, who carried him into the Ca­stle. And how one of the Ladies bearing him louing affe­ction, but he disdaining her great good will, vrged her to keepe him there as her prisoner.

PAlmerin of England, after he had left the Castle of the Giant Almarol, happened on the frontiers of Nauarre, in the Dominion of France, which he perceiued altogether to be inhabited and gouerned by mighty Gi­ants, whose vnciuility of life, wrought ma­ny cruel spoiles and villanous deeds in these parts: among whom Palmerin behaued himselfe so worthily, that the effect of his déeds returned his due commendation. Cō ­tinuing his trauaile along the Coast, at last in a faire gréen val­ley he espied a goodly and well fortified Castle, and neere vnto it, was a faire largs Poole, well stored with choice of fish, where the Prince alighted from his Horse, to let him feede a while in the pasture. In the meane time, he looking all about and could sée no body, that on a suddaine might come to endanger him, sat downe by the water side, the beholding wherof, droue many so­lemne fancies out of his remembrance.

As he was about to take a little nap, his Mistres Polinarda approached his thoughtes, as also the remembrance of his [Page] manifold courtesies, which he receiued while he remained at Constantinople: so that some of these motions prouoked him to good opinion of ioy, but other some to a number of heauie lamentations, as especially the sharp command of his mistres: which being loath to breake, mad him to absent himselfe from Constantinople, longer then otherwise hee would gladly haue done.

In these thoughts hee fell into a sound sleepe, when foure Damosels came walking foorth of the Castell, who beholding the Prince his chéekes all dewed with teares, and his eye lids very redde with ouermuch wéeping, were all constrained to great compassion. Then one of the Damosels, being of rare and excellent beautie, called for certaine of her seruants, who with their helpe, caried the Prince into a faire Chamber in the castel, causing his armes to be fastened together with a chaine, to the ende he might vse no resistance against them. When he awaked, and found himselfe in this great alteration, he was so ouercome with griefe, that he knew not what to say: but the Ladie bearing great affection to him, (at euery instant chan­ged colour, which witnessed the ardent loue shée had concei­ued in her minde) at last made manifest the sum of her desire, whereto Palmerin by no meanes would giue consent. For, being desirous to shunne any occasion, whereby hée might bée thought disloyal to his Lady, determined to depart from thence without Horse or Armour, onely to auoide her importunate sute.

This moued the Lady to such extreame griefe, that she viola­ted the bondes of Reason, whose limits duty had alwaies war­ned her to kéep within: and séeing that neither tears nor intrea­tis might mollifie the heart, she commanded him to be brought into her Chamber, where irons were made fast about his legs, and great spéeches giuen forth to terrifie him, because he would vse no pittie to her outragious passions. Palmerin not estée­ming either her selfe or her words, bare greater affection to clogging irons, then to all the amorous spéeches the Lady could vse: who at last turned hee hot loue into extreame hatred, so that absenting her selfe out of his companie, caused him to bée [Page] vsed in very rigorous manner. But her crueltie had no long time of lasting, for her woonted affectiō caused her to repent her hasty fury, and in her mind she thought to discharge the Prince, séeking all meanes possible to banish him out of her memorie, for which cause she inclosed her selfe in her Chamber, labouring both by examples and present proofe, to extinguish the furious flames of her continuall Passions. But when she saw nothing would serue, but her griefe was driuen to an impossible cure, she concluded to kéepe the Prince in Prison so long, that at length shee would glut her selfe with his remembrance. Or else, at last the Prine would be so wearie, that he not able any longer to endure the cruell practises she vsed, would repent him of his so long deniall, and so bee enforced to accomplish her amorous dessre. But Palmerin hauing already made faithful vowe of his loue, by no torment or cruelty would be perswaded to violate his promise, to the no small griefe of the Lady, who frequented himselfe still with her woonted sute, as also for his obstinacy en­creased her seuerall deuises of cruelty.

CHAP. LXV.
How Don Florian remaining in the Court of England, made such entreatie on the behalfe of Orianda, and her sisters, the Daughters of the Marquesse Beltamor, remaining in the Castle of the Giant Calfurnien: that they were resto­red into Kings fauour, and married to three noble Gentle­men of his Court. And Don Florian departing out of Eng­land, arriued at the Castle of the Giant Almarol, where he entred the Combate with Dramusiande, where ending their strife with great friendship, he departed accompani­ed with Siluian, desirous to finde his brother, the noble Palmerin of England.

[Page] DOn Florian of the Forrest, of whome no mention hath béene made, since the Prince Palmerin departed out of England, stay­ed a certaine time in the Court of the King his Vncle, to intreate fauour for Orianda and her Sisters, the Daughters of the Marquesse Beltamor. For remembring the great seruice they had done to him, at such time as the giant Calfurnien had wounded him so sore: willing to discharge the promise he made them at his departure, which might manifest his honour, and redéeme them from that misery wherin they re­mained, approached the presence of the King in this manner. I haue alwayes heard my Soueraigne Lord and Vncle, that laudable déedes ought to be recompenced with the like, and that ingratitude and vnkinde dealing, should euer be banished from the heartes of Princes, wherefore, fearing least my selfe should be found faulty in such a hainous crime. I shall desire your gra­tious furtherance in a cause, as shall present my duty, and your owne honour.

It is so my good Lord, that at such time as I imbarqued my selfe from Greece, the tempest ouer-reacht me with such a vio­lent meane, that our Ship attained the Coast of Ireland, where I would needes goe on land, albeit both the Master, and all in the Ship perswaded me to the contrary. Being then on land, such was my Fortune that I met with the Giant Calfurnien, whose strength, although it was redoubted indeede, yet good hap gaue me the honour of his death.

In this bloody fight, I receiued so many grieuous and dan­gerous woundes, that I could no way haue escaped the death my selfe, had not three Ladies, Daughters to the Marquesse Beltamor, (whome this cruell Giant kept there perforce) v­sed such honourable and goodly prouision, that to their no small labour and trauaile, I recouered a sound and perfect estate. Assuring you my Lord, that I not onely maste high estimation [Page] of their friendly courtesie: but also confesse my selfe indeb­ted to them for euer, to spend my heart blood in their gratious seruice.

Wherefore remembring their infortune, that for their Fa­thers offence they are disherited, I promised to vse such inter­cession to your Grace, as they should be restored to their lost patrimonies. In the meane time they liue in hope, and I expect your wonted noble forgiuenesse on their behalfe.

The King perceiuing the desire of Florian, with the great friendship he had receiued by these Ladies, returned him pre­sently this auswere. Indéede I confesse, the Marquesse their Father, both intended and accomplished a treasonable enter­prise against me and my state: yet would I not that his daugh­ters being ignorant and innocent of their Fathers crime, shall suffer punishment for his offence. And since he hath sustained Law according to desert, and his whole possessions are fallen into our hands, we returne them to the vse and profite of the Damosels, in recompence of the friendly fauour you haue re­ceiued at their hands. And for their more honour, I will that the eldest of them be married to Don Rosiran my Cousin, and your great friend Argolant, shal not refuse to marry the second: as for the third, we restore her to the Marquisate of her father, and will ioyne her in marriage with Beltamor, Brother to the forenamed Don Rosiran.

Don Florian kissing his highnesse hand, in token of the vn­speakable pleasure hée receiued at the Kings wordes, by the meanes of Don Edward his noble Father, sent a poast with al spéede to bring the Ladies to the Court, as wel to sée the Kings will accomplished in effect, as to make proofe of his good will habare to the Ladies.

When these Ladies were come, end euery thing in due and decent order finished, Don Florian tooke leaue of the King his vncle, and also Don Edward, & the Princesse Flerida, because he would try the aduentures at the Castle of Miragarda, whose beautie was so renowned thorow the whose world.

With great griefe they suffered him to depart, so that when in trauaile, he had passed the Court of the King Redinde, hee [Page] arriued at the Castel of Almarol, when Dramusiande had euen then vanquished thrée Knights, whereof one was the valiant Pompides, which made Florian somewhat abashed, because he was ignorant that it was the gentle Dramusiande. Where­fore, being desirous to hazard himselfe in the Combate, he pre­pared his Speare to encounter with him, which Dramusiande seeing (not knowing him to be Florian of the Desart, the son of his deare and louing friend Don Edward, against whom he would not haue entred the fight in any case) to satisfie the will of his Lady Miragarda, he met so strongly with him, that they were both dismounted to the earth. Vp againe they rose, and fell to it very violently with their Swordes, in so much as Dramusiande would not beast of his bargaine, nor Florian bragge of the choise he had made, for that the Combate was so dangerous between them, as it was not to be iudged who was likest of victory.

Miragarda leaning in her window, extolled maruelously the hautie valure of them both, so that excepting the Combate of the Tristfull Knight with Palmerin, she gaue the onely com­mendation to this singular fight, which continued with such outrage betweene them, that they were constrained to retire, to take a little breathing. Dramusiande féeling the Prowesse of his aduersary, supposed him to be Florian of the Desart, and therefore concluded many times to discouer himselfe, without bringing their Combat to any ende. But fearing least it should be reported, that he gaue ouer for want of courage to maintain his quarrell, changed his opinion, in that hée was so desirous, to finish the intent of the faire Miragarda, to whom secretly he began in this manner. My déere Mistresse, I know that the merite of my trauailes, shall bée to burie their commendation in the pi [...]te of obliuion, by you that little regard them, yet is it great and insupportable griefe, to him that is so vnkindly requi­ted. Neuerthelesse, so great a conquest haue you gained of me, and my whole endeuours lincked to fulfil your good liking, that I can no waies contrary what you haue ordained, but remaine more affectioned to doe you honour, then al my actions can me­rite your fauour. Regard then the Knight against whom I [Page] maintaine your cause, and the fore [...] of his deliuerer attempts, will witnesse in what neede I stand of your friendly furthe­rance, which I beséech you not to denie him at this presence, who in faith and loyaltie, is more yours then his owne, lest my enemie winning the victorie, cast in my téeth, that he hath brought me vnder in beholding your beautie.

Don Florian desirous to finish his enterprise, came and char­ged Dramusiande the second time, so that Almarol debating with Miragarda, and Lardemia, estéemed maruellously the va­lour of the Giant, in kéeping the Shield, as also the knight that offered him resistance. Siluian standing in doubt that Dra­musiande would be slaine, which would be great griefe to his Lord and master, came to the Esquire of Don Florian, whom hee presently knew, which made him very ioyfull, beléeuing now verily, that he should saue the liues of them both: where­fore he came to Florian with these wordes. I desire you Sir, to passe no further in this doubtfull fight, for he whom you labour against, is Dramusiande your trustie and loyall friend. Siluian had no sooner spoken these wordes, but that they presentlie threw downe their Swords, embracing one another with such gentle salutations, as though they had been the greatest f [...]iends in the world. Florian was greatly amazed, to sée Siluian there without his master, wherefore hee demaunded of him how all things had hapned: but when he vnderstood the losse of his bro­ther, hee remained in griefe beyond all perswasion, so that he determined to goe straight to Constantinople, and if he failed of him there he would séeke all the world ouer, but he would find him againe.

So taking leaue of Dramusiande, accompanied with Siluian, he departed from thence, not desiring to sée the faire Miragarda, least he should be brought into like opinion, as was the gentle Giant Dramusiande. Not farre from thence, hee met with Pompides, lamenting very heauily that hee had been so van­quished: then presenting himselfe to beare the Prince com­pany, they imbraced very courteously, and so ridde on loo­uingly and friendlie together, desirous to meete with some [Page] one to cure their wounds, that they might make the more expe­dition, in séeking after the renowned Prince Palmerin of Eng­land.

CHAP. LXVI.
How Don Florian and Pompides, being cured of the wounds they had receiued, in maintaining the Combat against Dramusiande, arriued at the Castle of the Princesse Ar­nalte, who was the Lady that kept the Prince Palmerin prisoner. And how in discoursing with her, about the faire Miragarda, they at last got Palmerin with them, and so departed from thence.

THe Giant Dramusiande being very sore wounded, was carried in to the Castle of the Giant Almarol, where as great care was vsed to him as might be possible: but so dan­gerous were his hurts, that of a good while after he was not able to endure the trauaile of armor. In which time, Miragarda would not suffer Almarol to enter the fight any more, because she had séene him thrée times vanquished: so that many knights com­ming thither to try the aduenture, were faine to stay while Dra­musiande was recouered, or else to returne and lose their labor.

Don Florian and Pompides iourneying still together, happe­ned into the house of an ancient knight, whose skill was very great in the science of Chirurgery, where they passed away the time, in discoursing the hauty aduentres enterprised, at the Castle of Almarol, on the behalf of the rare and excellent Prin­cesse Miragarda, to whom Pompides attributed high commen­dations, [Page] though he were maruailously offended at his infortu­nate foyle.

When they had well recouered their strengths againe, yéel­ding great thanks vnto theis gentle Host, they departed from thence, intending to iourney toward Constantinople, thinking there to find the noble and couragious Knights, who had wor­thily prooued themselues, as the onely and perfect flower of all Chiualry. Wherevpon they took shipping at the next Hauen, and Fortune fauouring their honourable intent, in few dayes brought them before the Castle, wherein the noble Palmerin of England remained Prisoner. Staying to rest themselues a while, they beheld a Damosell mounted on a white Palfray, accompanied with two Esquires, to come foorth of the Castle, to whom the Knights presently tooke their way, and with a friendly gréeting, requested to whom that goodly Castle belon­ged, it their demand might be no hindrance to her hasty affaires: whereto the Damosell made this answere.

Albeit Gentlemen, the busines wherin I must presently im­ploy my selfe, are matters of waight and great importance, yet the gentle demaunds both of your spéech and outward behaui­our, hath commanded me to stay til I haue satisfied your desire. This Castle was first founded, at the commandement of the noble & couragious Prince Bazelie, sometime the king of Na­uer [...]ed he being now deceased, the Princesse Arnalte his faire Daughter, is come to unhabite this ancient and famous Man­sion. For she being vnwilling to gouerne her people, by reason she is but yong of yeeres, as also vnmarried, committed the gui­ding of so waighty a charge, to such honourable persons in her Court, as shee knew both vertueus, wise and discrete, to vse Iustice to the vsurping enemie, and equitie to her louing sub­iects in generall. During the time she hath remained here, re­port hath blazed abroad the aduentures finished at the castle of the Giant Almarol, in the maintenance of the beauty of faire Miragarda, whose stately magnificence being so highly cōmen­ded, is the cause as she supposeth, that shée is not beloued of a knight, who remaineth in the Castle, and to whom she heareth great loue and affection.

[Page] On this beliefe, she hath cōmanded me to goe sée the Princesse Miragarda, whereby she may be certified, if her beauty that is so highly extolled, may surmount that wherewith nature hath so plentifully adorned her selfe. Which if it so fall out, that the Princesse Miragarda carry the credit from her, then is she min­ded to deliuer the Knight, and he shall remaine no longer her prisoner: but if my Lady prooue superiour to the canonized spec­tacle, then know I she will put the knight to death, considering the iniury he hath offred her, who hath so much abased her selfe, as to beare an vngrateful person such affection, of whom she can gather no knowledge or acquaiatance. Don Florian well pondering the Damoselles wordes, and being somewhat plea­santly disposed withall, demanded if the beauty of her mistresse might compare with the indifferent condition shee had of her owne. Mrust me Sir (quoth she) if you finde any thing in me, that deserued to beare the title of beautie, when you shall chance to haue a sight of my Lady, you will say you haue made a very simple comparison. Fayre Damosell (saide Florian) would you followe my counsell, you should here make stay your hasty iourney: for credite me, Miragarda is much more beautiful then you. Lady (quoth Pompides) let not these words séeme to stay you from your Mistresse commaund; but procéede in your enterprise, and you shall sée that, which neither of vs is worthy to vse any talke of: so shal you saue the life of the knight whom she loueth, and certifie your Lady with a certaine re­port, as for what it hath pleased this Knight to say, his wordes are but iesting, for he neuer sawe the faire Miragarda. It séemes then Sir Knight (answered the Damosell) that you haue béene affectioned to the faire view of this Princesse, that you can so readily stand for a witnesse, in the behalf of her beau­tie. I desire you therefore, to returne with me to the Princesse my Lady, so shall you saue me a iourney, in that you are able to speake vpon iudgement, where perhaps I might stray by vsing affection. So alighting from their Horses, they went altoge­ther into the Castle, when the Damosell gaue her Lady to vn­derstand, that she had met with two Knights, who were lately come from the Castle of Almaroll, and could at large informe [Page] her, concerning the beauty of the faire Miragarda. The Prin­cesse Arnalte being very glad of these newes, caused a fayre Chamber to be prouided for the two knights, where when they had disarmed themselues, and taking a little ease, being wearie with trauaile, shée came and courteously welcommed them to her Castell, shewing all the commodities that might vrge them to pleasure, and walking forth to the Pondes side, sitting them downe vnder the Cipresse Trees, in a very pleasant shadow, she began in this manner.

Gentlemen, albeit I am ignorant how you can accept my wordes, or in what manner it shall please you to shape mee an answere, yet will I not be so timerous, but that without any ill suspect I may craue such leaue, as to cut off a doubt, which hath of long time been concealed. At such time as the King my Father, who gouerned all this countrey, had finished the course of his terrestriall time, I betooke my selfe to liue solitarie in this habitation, till the Gouernors of my Kingdome had chosen me such a Phéere, as might in all respects satisfie the will of my late deceased Lord and Father. But Fortune, the enemy to al mine actions, permitted an vnknown knight to happen to this Castell: whom I made such choise of, that he was the onelie man I loued, because I neuer liked any but him, so that accor­ding to my affection, I concluded him as Lord, both of mee and all my Princely possessions. But hee neither regarding bountie nor beauty, applieth himselfe so disdainful to my gentle desire, that he rather taketh pleasure in irons, wherewith I haue charged him, then in the Princely offers whereto I haue chasen him. And although his great despising me is an insuppor­table torment, yet haue I dissembled my disquietnes, supposing that his affection to some other hath ouercharged his wittes, so that he could not perceiue the honour wherewith I presented him. And yet this opinion I vsed fondly with my selfe, that no ladies beauty was sufficient to win him from me, the Princesse Miragarda onely excepted, whose report filleth euery Climate, with extolling her benefit. Yet because I had some doubt of her, I commanded one of my Damosels to take her iourney thi­ther, to see if my beautie might not stand equall with hers, if so [Page] be, she were onely perfect without comparisō, then had I deter­mined to set the knight at libertie: but if I were found to de­serue as high a title as shee, then would I reward him with pu­nishment, according as his disdainfull nature did worthily de­serue. Horian well noting the proud minde of Arnalte, deter­mined to cause her abide in her vaine opinion, as thus.

Truly Madam, I would with you not to vse any other tor­ment to the Knight, then to let him persist in his obstinate and p [...]ruerse minde: for in the ende, the punishment of his owne follie will be all, when himselfe shall lament the state of his losse. And hereupon assure your selfe, that yt Princesse Miragar­da is as faire as she is famed, yet are you very li [...]le beholding to the Knight, considering that if both your features were liuely to bee seene in one vniforme, it might hardly be iudged which should be soonest abased. The Princesse Arnalte, was very wel pleased with these words of Floriā, & stedfastly setting her coū ­tenance vpon him, euen as lightly she grounded her loue on Palmerin, so according to the mutability of an vnstedfast womā, she began to gr [...]w in as great good liking of him, vtterly abo­lishing Pelmerin out of memory, as though she had neuer seene him in all her life. Wherefore, being in euery part replenished with an vnspeakeable ioy, she tooke each of the knights by the hand, and returned with them into the Castell, where against their comming, the Table was ready couered, but before they sat downe, Florian desired to sée the knight, at whose request, he was immediatly sent for. But when Florian and Pompides had a sight of him, they were not able to conceale the great ioy they sustained, especially Siluian, who as they imbraced his Master, he cast himselfe at his féet, being neuer so glad in all his life, as he was at this present. Which made Arnalte so a­mazed, that she wished they were al departed her Castle. Wel, downe they sat, and were feasted with honour and great reue­rence, the Supper being ended, Palmerin and Pompides were l [...]dged in one Chamber together, and a very faire Chāber was prouided for the Prince Florian, to whom she gaue such friend­lie entertainement, that they staied there the space of eight daies. Then Florian and the other Knights would néedes de­part, [Page] ieauing the Princesse very pensiue and sorrowfull, to de­part from his company she desired so faine, but he made her pro­mise, that so soone as he could, he would returne to her. Hereon they all departed merrily away, the Princesse Arnalte greatly commending her good fortune, in that she hoped of the Prince Florians returne, when she had no doubt to win his heart, but he being a litle out of her sight, was fallen into such obliuion of her, that he made a iest to his brother & Pompides, of the great fauour Arnalte had bestowed on him.

CHAP. LXVII.
How Palmerin of England, Don Florian his brother, and Pompides, being departed from the Castle of the Princesse Arnalte, met the faire Florenda, daughter to Arnedes King of France, at whose request, Florian ran with twelue Knights, who kept the Princesse company in her prograce. And how during the time of the Iust, a Damosell came and intreated Palmerin, to haue his helpe in the finishing of a strange aduenture: with whom he presently departed, and after the Iust was ended, Pompides and the Prince Flori­an rode after Palmerin, to giue him aide if hee stoode in neede of any.

WHen these thrée Knights were thus depar­ted from the Princesse Arnalte, Palmerin by the way, r [...]de with Siluian aside, to whom hee expressed the great perpleritie wherein he remained, for the loue hee bare his faire Lady and Mistresse Polinarda: to whom he feared to approach, because of the cōmandement she gaue him, at such time as he departed from Constantinople.

[Page] Whereto Siluian vsed this kind of perswasion, what she had giuen him in angry spéeches, was rather to try his constancy, then to mooue him conceiue any opinion of discourtesie. But Palmerin would hardly giue any credance to his wordes: be­cause he supposed we had heard already, that he could not van­quish the Tristfull Knight, entring the Combate on the contro­uersie, betwéene the beauty of her and the Princesse Miragarda which oppressed his minde with many grieuous thoughts, and was much displeasant to Florian and Pompides, who were al­togither ignorant in the cause of his heauinesse.

When they had ridden for a few certaine dayes, they came at last into a valley in the Kingdome of France: where vnder a fine shadowe of Trées, they perceiued foure faire Tents erec­ted, whereupon was placed twelue goodly Shieldes. But that which was most to their admiration, was a braue company of Ladies, who disported themselues there vnder the gréene Trées.

The Knightes reioycing to finde company in such a solitarie place, betooke themselues presently toward the Tentes, but on a suddaine came foorth of one of the Tents, a Knight attyred in a very faire Armour, all thicke beset with golden Glasses, who hauing put on his Helmet, mounted on his Stéede, and tooke a strong Lance in his hand, preparing himselfe couragiously to enter the Iuste. When Palmerin perceiued the intent of the Knight, he caused his company to stay a while, when presently an Esquire addressed himselfe from the Ladyes, saluting the Princes in this manner. God saue you Gentlemen, Florenda Daughter to the famous King of France, who abideth in these Tents with her courtly attendants, by me gréeteth you in all courtesies possible, giuing you to vnderstād, that delighting her selfe to ride in Prograce, she stayeth here in this pleasant val­ley, til the heat of the day be somwhat more declined. And for as much as she hath seene in you, the perfect appearance of knight­ly and worthy behauiour she desireth, if you will fauour her re­quest so much, that you would breake a fewe Lances with cer­taine of her Knights, the fulfilling whereof will cause her to re­ward you with all honourable thankes.

[Page] Trust me (said Palmerin) we all desire to fulfill any occasion, that may be found pleasant to the Princesse Florenda, and see­ing it is her pleasure to see vs Iuste, certifie her, that we re­maine at her gratious cōmand. No sooner had the Esquire deli­uered his answere, but the Princesse Florendos Knights came foorth of the Tentes, when Don Florian hauing obtained leaue for the first Iuste, encountred the first Knight with such hautie courage, that he sent him to measure his length on the earth. In this manner he serued fiue without breaking his Lance, but on the sixt he sheuered it in pieces, wherefore Pompides deliue­red him his Launce, being very glad to see him spéede so luckily. The Princesse somewhat mooued, to see her Knights foyled so fast by one, exhorted the other to make better proofe of their Chi­ualrie, but in the meane while, a Damosell came crossing the valley on a blacke Palfray, and yeelding her selfe at the foote of the renowned Palmerin, began to vtter these speeches.

I desire you Sir Knight, for the honour you haue receiued in your knightly déedes of Armes, at this instant to conceiue such courage as to followe me, & you shall receiue the greatest praise in giuing me ayde, as in all your life time you neuer gained the like. Palmerin, who bare Armes only to succor the weake estate of the distressed, desired Pompides to kéepe his Brother Florian company, not fayling to ayde him in finishing that noble enter­prise, and he would not be long before he returned to them a­gaine, so giuing a Conge to the Ladies, he rede away in all the hast with the Damosell.

One of the Ladies belonged to the princesse Florenda, séeing Palmerin to depart on such a suddaine, came to Pompides with these wordes. Truely Sir, it séemeth you deserue not to beare Armour, or that you are afraide it should be too much bruised, that suffer your Companion to depart alone, not knowing the mishap of the Damosell, or the hard Fortune that may hap to attach the Knight. Lady (answered Pompides) the Gentle­woman is in the gouernmēt of so good a knight, as I dare awar­rant she shall haue little cause to feare, but because you shall net account me of such cowardise. I will presently direct my course after him, rather to behold his hardy pr [...]wesse, then to thinke [Page] he should stand in néede of my helpe. Wherevpon he tooke his leaue of the Lady, & endeuoured himselfe that way the Prince was gone before him, but he had so far outreacht him, that Pom­pides could not ouertake him a good while after. Florian hauing dismounted eight of the Kuights, could deale with no more be­cause his laace was broken, but one of the ladies came and pre­sented him with another, desiring him to breake that one lance for her sake. Florian thanked the Lady very courteously, promi­sing to employ that lance, as a Present come from the hands of her, to whom he would aduenture his life in seruice: which to witnesse, he prepared himself against the ninth knight, who ha­uing a good opinion of himselfe, began in this order to speake to the Prince. I haue a great desire, sir Knight, to try your valour which is of such estimation, being in hope that I shall manifest that to you, which you haue not yet seene. Thus concluding his spéeches, and casting his eye vpon Carmelia, the handmayde to the princesse Florenda, whom he had chosen as chiefe mistresse of his heart: he couched his speare against the Prince Florian, thinking to honour his Saint with his ouerthrow. But recko­ning without his Host, he was faine to make a new account, and possesse the place on the ground himselfe, being now as sor­rowfull for his ill Fortune, as he was pleasantly disposed be­fore he entred the Iust. Hauing thus vnhorsed them all the last Knight came and tooke his turne, being the valiant Germayne of Orleance, who had vndertaken the charge to conduct the Princesse, being her affectionate and loyal friend: he bare in his shield, a Tyger bearing a white Lyon in pieces, and not know­ing the Prince Florian, to reuenge the dishonour his compa­nions had receiued, encountred the Prince with such courage, that at the third attempt he was enforced to keepe his friendes company, not a little displeased to be foyled in the presence of her, to whom he had vewed the honour of all his victories. The Princesse séeing the Iousting was finished, desired the Prince that she might see his face, as also to report his name, & of whēce he was: at whose request he alighted, and hauing taken off his Helmet, desiring her pardon, offered in humilitie to kisse her hand, but she would not suffer him so to do. Germaine of Orle­ance, [Page] who had knowledge of him presently, came and imbrac [...] him in very c [...]urteous manner: and turning to the Princesse Florenda, he vttered his spéeches on this wise. Faire Mistres, I account it no dishonour to be vanquished by this Knight, for that in all his attempts he euer remaineth victor. When the Princesse vnderstood, that he was Florian of the Desart, som­what allied to her by kindred, she came running to him, and im­braced him with a maruellous protestation of exceeding loue. And then commanding the Tents to be taken downe, because it was the time of her departure, shee desired Florian to accom­pany her to the French Court, where she might do him more honour, then she was able in that solitarie place. But Florian desired pardō, for at that time he could not satisfie her desire, be­cause he would follow the Lady, who allured his Brother and Pompides, to stray from him in that manner. The Princesse vnderstanding, y the knight, who went with the lady, was the famous Palmerin, took Florian by the hand, with these words. Now trust me sir Florian, it grieueth me that I was not so for­tunate as to know him in the time he remained here, being the knight that I alwaies desired to sée: wherefore I desire you to make haste after him, and at your returne to passe thorow the kingdome of my father, that I may do him the seruice my hart desireth. Then the lady, whose words procured Pompides to de­part after Palmerin, came to the prince Florian, with these spee­ches. Sir, I would faine haue knowledge of the knight, who hath betaken himselfe to trauaile after my Lord your Brother, desiring you to certifie him, the sorow I conceiue for the words I gaue him. Faire lady (answered Florian) he is such a knight, as I am sure will bée ready at all times, to employ himselfe in your seruice: he is named Pompides, my brother and euer ap­prooued good friend, I humbly pray you (said the lady) that you would excuse me to him, in the greatest offence I haue vngent­ly offred. Florian promised he would accomplish her will, so ta­king leaue of the Princesse Florenda, and all her noble compa­ny, he posted apace that way as the Prince Palmerin tooke, standing in great feare, lest any mischance should happen vnto him.

CHAP. LXVIII.
How the Damosell hauing brought Palmerin from the faire Florenda, conducted him to the Castle of the Duke of Ronsillion, where he enterprised the Combat, to redeeme three Ladies, whom the Duke kept as prisoners there, to put them to death.

GReat hast made the Lady that conducted Palmerin, all the way vsing no words, till they came to a litle village in the Dukedom of Ronsillion, where she desired the Prince to stay a while, and she would go in the vil­lage, where shée would not stay but returne to him presently. In the meane while, Pal­merin tooke off his Helmet, and sat him downe to rest him, be­cause he was somewhat weary with trauaile, when the Da­mosell returning, and beholding him to be so young and beauti­full, she despaired with herselfe, that he was not able to fulfill her earnest desire, for which cause she presently fell into teares.

Palmerin not knowing the cause of her sorrow, desired her that she would expresse it to him, whereupon she began to an­swere him thus. Alasse Sir Knight, no other cause haue I to lament in this order, but that I am the onely infortunate wo­man in the world, who haue trauelled through the whole king­dome of France, thinking to find a valiant and renowned Knight, but now I perceiue I am greatly deceiued. For when I thought to intreat the Princesse Florenda to giue me one of her most strong and hardy Knights, I finding you in the com­pany of those, who vnhorsed her Lords with great valiancie, I had so good an opinion of you, that I intreated you to follow me, not rehearsing the perillous danger. I should bring you too. So that now being at the place, where you should put your [Page] déedes in proofe, I finde you so young and of such small force, that I am voyde of all hope to haue any good successe. Faire La­dy (answered Palmerin) I shall not faile to doe as much as my power will permitte, and perhappes cause you to haue a better opinion of me, then I see as yet you are willing to vse. There­fore I desire you to tell me, to what intent you haue caused m [...] to trauaile with you, and doubt not but I will aduenture my life, to doe you seruice in what thing soeuer. O Sir (quoth she) how happy were I, if the effect of your deedes would agrée with your wordes, for in this Village there remaineth three Ladies Prisoners, the Daughters of one of the most noble Lordes in this Countrey, who because their Father would not giue them in Mariage, to the Duke of Ronsilion and his two Brethren, they found the meanes to murther him, and these three Ladies they kept here in a Castle, to whom they haue graunted the commodity, to finde a knight that can preuaile in the Combat, and then they shall be restored to their former libertie. So that this is the prefixed and appointed day, when the Combat must first be tried, against Bramerin the chiefe gentleman belonging to the Duke, and one of the most renowned knights in all this Countrey. If it chance that he be vanquished, then must you hazard your self, against Cliaster and Alfarin his two kinsmen, yet all these being conquere, will not returne this victorie, for then must you deale with the Duke and his two brethren, who are knowen to be such stoute and noble Knightes, that no one will conceiue the courage to deale with them. Yet must the La­dies, this day finde a knight to auenge their quarrell, or else the Duke hath sworne they shall loose their heades, and to put the Ladies in some hope, I went and told them I had brought a knight, who would vndertake to deale in their cause, which the Duke no sooner hearing, but hee began to be greatly offended. Surely saide Palmerin, I must néedes venture my selfe again those, that will take vpon them to vse cruelty to any faire Lady, and will alwaies disallow, that a King or Prince should suffer any iniury, to be vsed to a Lady within his Dominions, and in token that my deeds shall agrée with my words, I will goe pre­sently to the abiding of the Duke, where I will inuay so much [Page] against him, that his owne wicked will shall worke his ouer­throw. The Damosell perceiuing the noble minde of Palmerin, and the little doubt he had to deale with his enemy, vsed better affectition to him now thē she had before, whereupon she broght him to the Castle where the Duke made his abode, to sée the ende of this noble enterprise.

CHAP. LXIX.
How Palmerin being come to the Castle, entred the fight on the behalfe of the three Ladies, wherein hee vanquished Bramerin, and slew Cliastar & Alfarin. And how he fought with the Duke and his two brethren, against whom hee preuailed, and restored the Ladies.

THe Prince and the Gentlewoman being come to the Castle, where where were as­sembled a great multitude of people to sée the Combate, the drawe-Bride was let downe by the Dukes commaundement, when Palmerin prepared to enter the Ca­stle, but Bramarin being prouided, and see­ing his enemy before his face, came vnto him with these wordes. Abide Sir Knight, and before you ap­proach any farther, you must deale with me: but I belieue you haue made such an ill bargaine, that when you see your ware, you will not bragge of your peny worthes. Trust me Sir (an­swered Palmerin) how euer it happen, I must hold me content, but I am of this opinion, that to whom the right belongeth, to them will returne the best aduantage: and therefore I am fully determined to the fight, because I feare I shall lacke day­light to finish mine enterprise. Syr, sayde the Knight, you shall not néede to complaine on the lacke of time, for I warrant you wee shall ende, and that right soone: at least wise, if so be that I chance to faile, you shall deale with such fellowes in the [Page] Castle, as will be loth to prolong the time with you.

So giuing scope to their Horses, they met with their speares so nobly together, that Bramerin was throwne to the ground, void of any féeling, which Palmerin perceiuing, alighted from his Horse, and set his Sword to his throate with these words. Yéeld Varlet, and sweare henceforth neuer to iniury any op­pressed Lady, or by my Sword, thou shalt die the death. Brame­rin séeing his life to stand in such a ieopardy, deferred not to ful­fill his desire. When Palmerin mounting on Horseback again, entred the Castle, and in the Court espied Chaster and Alfarin, each of them in a very faire gréene Armour, thicke beset with Azure flowers, who when they beheld Palmeria, they ran both at once against him very fiercely, but with his Sword hee salu­ted one of them so soundlie on the head, that he made him sure enough for doing any more harme. Which his fellow percei­uing, came & behaued himselfe with very great courage against the Prince, but in the ende, Palmerin brought him vnder his o­beysance, when demaunding if he would yeeld, he made answer no: because he thought some would come to his reskew, but Palmerin séeing him so obstinate, failed not to send his head from his shoulders. Al this while, he was so happy to escape without any hurt, whereupon he came to the gentlewoman, and asked if there were any thing els, wherin she would haue him to imploy his seruice. Certainly sir (quoth she) I see no danger can with­draw your coruage, but now you must hazard your selfe, against the Duke & his Brethren: and their vse is to Combat aboue in the Castell, where I pray God to send you as fortunate successe, as hitherto you haue had against these iii. knights, in hope wher­of, I will not leaue your company, but be partner of al the Com­bats you shall try, to deliuer these three distressed Ladies. After the Gentlewoman had thus concluded her talk, she shewed him the staires, which he ought to ascend, where he might find the Duke, and his brethren, when Palmerin commanding Siluian to stay his comming without, tooke his sword and went vp, till at last he came into a very faire Hall, where he beheld three Ladies sitting attyred all in blacke, and endued with such singu­lar beauty, that he greatly lamented their vngentle oppression.

[Page] He had not long stood beholding them, but he perceiued thrée Knightes very well armed to come before him: and to the La­dies, one of them began in this manner. Faire Ladies, why should you procure so great misfortune to your selues, and also labour to worke our ruine and destruction? you are the cause our three knights haue béen so cruelly abused, whose deathes I entend to reuenge so sharpely, and your liues shall satisfie part of our losse, wherat your Champion shall be but little plea­sed, and we not with all this fully satisfied. The Duke who spake these words, came from the Ladies accompanied with his Brethren, bearing all one manner of deuise in their shields, which was Cupid chased away, leauing his Bow and Arrowes all bloody, and broken in peeces, the Duke aduanced himselfe to Palmerin, on this wise. Sir knight, suffise your selfe with the slaughter of my knights, and yeelde your selfe friendly into my hands, for surely it would bee to my great griefe, to bée the death of so good a Knight, whereto Palmerin shaped his an­swer. Sir, thing not to abuse me, albeit I am in place, where you suppose you may command me, for I am come to no such ende, but rather to constraine you to vse recompence to these la­dies, whom you haue so highly offended, then for any fauour I seeke at your hands. With that the Duke and his Brethren strooke freely at Palmerin, and he on the other side charged them couragiously, the Ladies weeping, destred God in the force of the Prince, to shew some fauour and louing regard vnto them, for they well perceiued how dangerous the fight was, especially on his side to contend against three. Yet in the end, such was his valor and high good fortune, that by one and by one he ouer­came them all, but the Duke seeing his Brethren vanquished, and himselfe left alone to abide all the hazard, tooke occasion to pause with these words.

I pray you Sir Knight if your thinke it good, to tell me your name, and of whence you are, that I may know him I shall vanquish, or at least that shall remaine victor ouer mee. Sir, said Palmerin, the knowledge of me is so needelesse, that I will no stand to satisfie your desire, first, let vs make an end of our Combat, and then perhaps I will let you vnderstand more. [Page] Belike (quoth the Duke) you make such account of the victory, that you will admit no leisure to Parley: well, since you are so bent, I do not yet conceiue such weaknesse of my selfe, that I will make sute to you for any fauour. Then they began againe, the great effusion of their blood, witnessing the perillous danger of their fight, but at last the Duke was constrained to fal downe at the foote of the Prince, as il pleased as he was shrewdly hand­led, especially because he thought neuer to see his Lady and Mi­stresse againe. Wherefore humbling himselfe, he desired the Prince to saue his life, who being alwaies accustomed to great pittie, and seeing him so affectionate towardes his Lady, tooke him from the ground in his armes, promising to vse the matter in such sort, that he would make him to be highly esteemed of her. The Duke receiued the Prince offer, but vpon this condi­tion: that if she scorned to be mercifull vnto him, then should he presently bereaue him of life, because it was vnpossible for him to suffer such furious and sharpe assaults, as hee daile proued for her sake.

CHAP. LXX.
How Palmerin hauing conquered the Duke and his brethren, procured such meanes with the three Ladies, that he cau­sed them to be married together. And how Florian and Pompides arriuing there, Palmerin departed with them to­wards Constantinople.

AFter this great broyle was fully finished, and all thinges ordained in a decent order, on a suddaine there entred the Hall about twentie Souldiers, and two Knightes very well armed, who spake aloude, that it was necessary he should be slaine, that had killed the most famous and noble Knight of the [Page] world: wherewith they came to Palmerin, who defended him­selfe with his Sword, intending to be his Butcher that should first lay hands on him. But the Duke séeing so great a tumult risen without his knowledge, put himselfe betwéene them, de­siring a farther pause, that all matters might be taken vp quiet­ly. Then was the Duke canducted to his Chamber, and Palmerin went to the Chamber of the Ladies, where his woundes were very diligently dressed by Organel the Dukes Chirurgion, who was as carefull for him, as euer hée was for the Duke his Lord. During the time that Palmerin staied with the Ladies, he reported to them the great estimation both the Duke and his Brethren made of them, how also the cause of his sharpe dealing, was onely because they denied his loue, with diuers other reports, which the Ladies esteemed both laudable and honest: so that they granted themselues, onely to bée ruled and gouerned by the aduise of P [...]lmerin, because he had stood so much their friend, and therefore they promised to graunt what he did thinke well of, seeing he determined nothing, but what might stand with his owne honesty, and maintenance of their honour. Palmerin was so ioyfull to sée the Ladies conformable to his appointment, that he made more account of the conquest of them, then he did of the honour he receiued in the Combate. Wherefore he walked to the Dukes Chamber, where after hée had imbraced him, he declared the good agreement and conuersiō of the Ladies, whereat the Duke receiued such content, that for a great while he remained as it were in a sound: but being come to himselfe againe, he began in this manner to vtter his spee­ [...]s. Sir knight, if at your hands I haue receiued any damage, I must needs confesse your recompence is double, if so bee your deeds agree with your words (as blame me not Sir, if I am somewhat hard of beleefe) you haue brought me the onely com­fort and [...] of my life. Worthy Sir, said Palmerin, what I haue spoken, your Grace shall find the effect according, & doubt you not, but both you and your Brethren shall now at last pur­chase the delight, which neither your long study nor compulsion could bring to passe. While they continued this talke, the two knights that were in the [...] with the souldiers, came into the [Page] Dukes Chamber with their Helmets off: when Palmerin sée­ing they were his two brethren, Florian & Pompides, ran and imbraced them with very great ioy, desirous to know how they had sped at the Iousting before the Princesse Florenda, which Florian rehearsed from point to point, as also in what manner they happened thither. The Duke séeing these three Knights to be all brethren, supposed them to be persons of some great birth: wherefore he commanded Organeli, because it drew towards night, to conduct them to their chambers, where Palmerin cer­tified them what he had done in the Castle, as also the Marri­age he had appointed, betweene the Duke, his brethren and the thrée Ladies, and thus they discoursed, till sléepe commanded them to leaue off. In the morning, the Duke and his brethren married the Ladies: Dragonell the second brother, chose to him Armisia the second sister, and Darofant espoused Arismena the yongest of all. Then was the feast solemnized with marueilous great royaltie, when Palmerin discouered himselfe and his bre­thren, which made the Duke to conceiue the better opinion of himselfe, that he had beene foyled by such a worthy Knight: to whom he sheweth great honour, during the time their staying there, which was longer thē they would haue doue, but only to pleasure the Duke and the Ladies. At length, taking their leaue of all the honourable company, they departed from thence, in­tending to goe strait to Constantinople, if no other chance did come to turne them againe.

CHAP. LXXI.
How Targiana the Turkes daughter, commanded her knight Albayzar to goe to the Castle of the Giant Almarol, there to maintnine her beautie against the Princesse Miragarda. And how he arriued there, and entred the Combate with Dramusiande, whom he was not able to vanquish, where­fore, in the night he tooke downe the Shield of Miragarda, and brought it thence away with him.

[Page] NEw must wee a while, leaue the Prince Palmerin and his brethren, who hauing left the Duke and the Ladies, are trauailing in their iourney towards Constantinople, and now let vs sée what hath happened at the Castle of Almarol, in maintaining the beautie of the faire Miragarda. I haue al­ready certified you, that Olori [...]que Alchediane the Soldane of Babilon, had left a sonne behind him, who was a great enemy to all Christendome, who seeing himselfe brought into the de­spising of Fortune, determined to follow the course of knightly aduentures, and to make his valour knowne among the num­ber of the most famous knights. It happened, that first he went to the great Turks, Co [...]rt, which being stored with couragious knights, he had the better meane to try his hardinesse: which proued so effectuall, that aboue all there, the Fame was attri­buted to this patterne of all their Chiuallry named Albayzar, who became the amorous seruant of Targiana, the Turkes daughter, to whom the onely name of beautie was giuen, tho­row all the Turkes Dominions.

And as Loue is vsually an augmenter of their mindes, who endeauour themselues to be vnder his obeysance, hauing now en [...]lamed the hart of Albayzar maketh him to forsake his won­ted liberty, and to wander in the solemne conceits of his inuci­gled fancy, which made him to brooke his passions more meeke­ly, hauing receiued the originall of his griefe from such an excel­lent occasion. Pargiana likewise bearing him good affection, would [...] if Loue had such a soueraigntie [...]uer him, as in pro­testations & sweete pa [...]ley he often confessed, so hauing her plat­forme [...], and the order of her inuention ready coined, she cal­leth [...] Chamber winde was was her woont, and there she began this solemne deuise.

Sir [...] if your [...] such an in [...]llible foundation, as you haue often both said and sworne, it shall bee [Page] [...] as easie for you to driue me from doubt, as to prouide your selfe against any encroching danger. And I haue often told you, that it is requisite I should vnderstand the depth of your déeds, as wel as to be lead away with your amorous & fabulous words, for you haue often told me, that I am the fairest Prin­cesse liuing on the earth, and that you would venture your life in maintenance thereof: to bring you to your triall, giue care to the aduenture I shall giue you in charge to finish.

It hath bin blazed abroad, that in Spaine, at the Castle of the Giant Almarol, there remaineth a Princes named Miragarda, who is reported to be the onely Goddesse of beauty, because the Gods neuer frame one more beautifull then she, yea, and by the iudgement of those that haue seene her Picture, truly and iustly figured by the perfect proportion (being a Shield placed before the castle, which who desireth must first aduēture his strength) this report I tell you, affirmeth her to be no lesse faire, then the aduenture of it selfe hath béen tried famous. To this place should I haue you to depart presently in trauaile, and in my fa­uour and defence of beauty, shew your hauty courage against the Giant her Champion, whom if Fortune will suffer you to vanquish you can neuer do me greater pleasure, then to bring me hither the Shéeld of the faire Miragarda. And at your re­turne, I pray you to iourney to Constantinople, where in the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, you may witnesse your self against all those, that dare denie you to be the most faithful ser­uant to the fairest Princesse aliue: the fulfilling hereof, ma­keth you Lord both of me and mine. My gracious Lady (an­swered Albaizer) I see at this present the perfect loue you beare me, in that you will vouchsafe to employ me in your honorable seruice, whereto I will presently betake my selfe, promising to bring you the Shéeld of Miragarda, which I will place at your féet, because all the Ladies in the world ought to humble them selues to you.

Thus breaking off his spéeches, he took his leaue of her, wea­ring a very fine greene Armour, wheron was wrought many golden Spheares and in his Sheeld vpon a field of Siluer, hee bare for his deuise a Phaenix, where vnder was written in gol­den [Page] Letters, the name of Targiana. Trauailing thus through diuers Kingdomes, at last he arriued at the Castle of the Giant Almarol, soone after the combat that Dramusiande had finished with the Prince Florian. Albayzar perceiuing the number of shields at the Trée, estéemed greatly the valure of him, who had the power to accomplish so rare exploits: but when hee beheld the Picture of Miragarda, he could not chuse but confesse the ad­uantage she had aboue his Lady Targiana. Neuerthelesse, hée would put her will in due execution, albeit that night he could not, time was so farre spent: but in the morning he presented himself before the Castle, when Dramusiande aduertised of his arriuall, armed himselfe, and came foorth on Horseback, so after a litle friendly greeting passed betwéen them, they couched their Speares, and at the third encounter, sent one an other to the ground couragiously. Then drew they forth their swords, deli­uering such cruell assaults to one another, that Miragarda and her Ladies did highly commend them: but yet shée stood in feare, lest Albayzar should vanquish Dramusiande. Albayzar, who all his life time had not felt such hardy blowes, thought not his promise so certain, as when he departed frō the Princesse Tar­giana, & Dramusiande found his enemy so strong, that he could hardly assure himselfe of any victory: for so cruelly did they deale with one another, and wounded one another in such grieuous maner, that one would not haue thought, how possible the life could remaine in them: whereupon Dramusiande began thus to the faire Miragarda. My good Lady, doe not now refuse your seruant in so great a néede, that he which hath neuer done you seruice, shall cause your Dramusiande to lose the recompence, which he thinketh by his trauels to haue worthily deserued. On the other side. Alybazar was in his cōplaints to the Prin­cesse Targiana, desirign her but to remember him in fauor, and that was sufficient to ouercom his enemy: so commending him selfe to his God Mahound, he began again afresh with Dramu­siande. Long they fought, yet neither could preuaile, for they thought themselues indifferently matched, so that the night ap­proaching on, made thē to leaue off their Combat, and to finish it on the next day if they could. Dramusiand entred his lodging, [Page] meaning on the morrow to ende their strife one way or other, and Albayzar retired being of the same minde: but knowing no where to rest him for that night, that hee might the better deale with Dramusinde on the morrow, he returned to the trée of the Shields, where remembring the promise he had made to his Lady, euery one being fast asleepe, he tooke downe the shield of the Prinesse Miragarda, which hée purposed to beare with him into Turkie. But first he would passe the Court of the Em­peronr Palmerin, according as his lady Targiana had comman­ded him: and fearing least he should be pursued, he stayed in no place, till he was twenty miles from thence, bearing the shield couered that no body should know it. And there where he lod­ged, he stayed vntill his wounds were healed: very sorrowfull because he could not vanquish Dramusiande, to bring the perfect prize to his Lady Targiana.

CHAP. LXXII.
How after Albayzar departed with the Shield of Miragarda, Dramusiande left the Castle of Almarol to followe after him. And how Armello brought word to the Prince Flo­rendos, of the Shield, which made him presently leaue his shepheards kinde of life, and with his fellowe shepheard tooke themselues to trauaile.

NOw Dramusiande hauing dressed his wounds, so well as he might in so short a space, in the morning returned to the Trée, intending to ende the Combate, or to leaue his life in the field: but when he began to gréete the Picture of Miragarda, according as hée was woo [...], and found himselfe dis­possest thereof, hée was taken with such sorrow, that he could a­bide in no place.

[Page] When he had sought all about the Trée, and could not finde it, he began to suspect, that the Knight against whom he main­tained the Combat, had caried it away with him: wherefore as secretly as might be, he concluded to persue presently after him, not staying till the Princesse Miragarda was certified thereof, because hee could not yéelde account of that, which shée had so faithfully committed to his kéeping. Then was he determined to séeke all the world ouer, but he would be reuenged on this discourteous Knight, whose treason he rehearsed to the Giant Almarol, of whom he tooke his leaue, not staying til his wounds were healed, nor yet thinking on the danger wherein he tooke himselfe to trauell.

After that Dramusiande was gone, Miragarda vnderstood how her shield was stollen by a Knight, after whom Dramusi­ande had determined to trauaile which made her to take it som­what heauily, thinking though Dramusiande were gone to re­couer it againe, yet when this mishap should be knowne to the Tristfull Knight, he would now take his weapons to followe him, that offered her so great discortesie, for in him she reposed a better confidence then in Dramusiande. Armello seeing the shield was stollen, and that Dramusiande was gone in that or­der, had good hope now of his maisters good Fortune, which made him trudge in hast fromthe Castell, and all the way he went by the Riuer Thesin, till at last he found him kéeping Shéepe by a Fountaine: where staying himselfe a while, he heard the sound of a Flute, which often stayed, to vtter the complaints of an euercharged minde, so that Armello was greatly mooued to heare his lamentations. Then came hée a litle neere to behold his face, which was so much offended with essuse of teares, that Armello could not iusily say, whether it was he or [...] at his féete fate another Shepheard very sim­ply apparelled, and playing many delightfull deuises vpon his Flute, so that Armello verily thought that place a wildernesse of woes.

The sight made him in such case, that he kn [...]w not how or which way to beginne his tale, for well he knew his Lord had minded such a [...] life, at such [...] as he left the Castell of [Page] the Giant Almarol, yet hardly did he knowe that this was he: wherefore encouraging himselfe, he approched vnto them with these spéeches. I pray you my friend, to report to me if you can, some tidings of a young knight, whom Loue hath caused to vn­dertake a solitary kinde of life, when his estate doeth rather command him to vse knightly Armes.

Trust me my friend (answered the Shepheard) I am my selfe so cruelly vrged with the outrages of loue, that I can hardly en­dure to make you any answere, for I am he whom Loue hath allowed to all misfortune, but neuer to no day, houre minute of quietnesse. With that the Prince Florendos began in this order. Oh sir, doe not you séeme to blame Loue so much, if you haue sustained any losse, impute it to the féeblenesse of Fortune and not to Loue, let me alone to complaine of Loue. Armello cast good view vpon him, and knew that it was the Lord, albeit he was changed out of all remembrance, wherefore, falling down at his féete, he desired him, not to execute on himselfe such extreame griefe, as he would not fauour himselfe with some pit­tie, which would greatly displease her, who had power to com­mand him otherwise. Then was Florendos somewhat offen­ded with himselfe, if he had done any thing that might displease his best beloued, which Armello séeing, stayed him thus.

Sir, I haue taken the paines to come hither, that you might vnderstand a matter greatly for your profite. Dramusiande hath long time kept the shield of Miragarda, and many knights hath he brought vnder her obeysance, but such is the misfor­tune, that her Shielde is stollen from thence by a Knight, of whom she hath no hope to recouer it, but only by your meanes. Florendos, to whose heart was already stroken a suddaine ioy, began in this manner. What will you Armello wish me to goe succour other, seeing me scant able to helpe my selfe, how may I in this weaknes presume against any one, when being in my chiefest strength, I could not conquer one onely knight? Neuer­theles, because I wil not still remaine in sorrow, which hither­to hath daily and vsually borne mee company, I will followe the Knight that hath borne away the Shield of my Lady, and will (if I can) make him to yéelde it me againe, but if Fortune [Page] send him the victory against me, then I shall be out of all trou­bles and sorrowes in this world. Thus rising vp, he desired his fellow shepheard (who was his only delight to accompany him in heauinesse) to beare him company, and leaue that sad & silent kind of life, to follow the noble exercises wherin he had béene al­waies trained, for albeit he was as then simple, yet had he béene tried a good knight at Armes. The knight, though he was con­tent with his sorrowful life, yet had he not that power to refuse the request of the gentle P. Florendos, for whose amitie they left their shéepe, and went into a Towne hard by, where they remained till they were strong enough to endure trauaile. And in their time of stay there, they made each of them a fine new blacke Armor, both alike, without any deuise at all, because the Prince would not be knowne, which made him not to send for his Armor at the Castle of Almerol. Then departed they from thence, and trauailed to séeke the shield of the faire Miragarda, but they trauailed not lōg togither, for that a misaduenture vn­happily parted them, as you shall be certified more hereafter.

CHAP. LXXIII.
What and who the Knight was, that bare Florendos compa­ny while he was a Shepheard, and what was the occasion that they parted company. And how Albayzar proceeded with the Shield of Miragarda.

BEcause you shall vnderstand, who the knight was that kept Florendos company all this while, the Historie declareth, that after the Knights (who were Prisoners with Don Edward) were departed from the realme of England, Floramā the prince of Sardignia, tooke his trauailes on the Coast of Spaine, purposing to trye the aduentures of the [Page] Princesse Miragarda. And because he arriued at the Castle of Almarol, when Florendos was gone into England, to try the aduenture at the Castle of Dramusiand, he had leisure sufficient to behold and muse on the faire Portrait of Miragarda, which séemed apparant in his eye, that he entred into prayses, and sur­praises of this beautifull Image.

Which made him desire, that som knight would take his way thither, to the intent he might shew some seruice to the grati­ous Princesse, the seemelinesse of whose Picture, caused him ve­rily beléeue, that there was none in the world might compare with her for beauty. But as he remained in this opinion, the old remembrance of Altea claimed one title in his cogitati­ons, which vrged some motion of strife to arise, because he be­came no lesse affectionate to Miragarda, then the knight that on her behalfe had won so many shields, wherevpon hee began in this order. O Floraman, why wilt thou vndertake to exercise Armes, séeing thou hast not the power to appease thy tedious trauailes, but labouring to get out, thou enrollest thy selfe the farther in? Thou wast once content to be vanquished at Con­stantinople, wherby thou mightst shun any more to follow this deceitfull Loue, and art thou now desirous to enter Armour, when both Fortune flies from thée, and thou not able any way to endure it? Oh blinded affection, that must roue on euery stranger, and knowest how strange Loue made thée of late. But séeing too late, I come to the knowledge of mine errour, and haue gone so far, that I cannot returne without my féet wet, I purpose to pursue her, by whom Fortune hath allowed mee a laboursome life, resigning ioy to those that are wont to be fami­liar, & contenting me with heauines, since I can no way eschew the happe. And séeing a graue is meetest for a dead man, a so­litarie Wildernesse for a comfortlesse wretch, I meane to beare her company with my mournfull heart so long, that she shall die to sée me, and I twise dead at any time to seeke her, then shall my mishappes haue a ful conclusion, and dispaire strike me dead once for all.

Thus breaking off his lamentations, he walked along by the Riuer Thesin, forsaking Horse, Armour, & al knightly behauior, [Page] entring a little shade of Trées, where he determined to liue so­litarie. And the greatest contentation he had, was when he sat kéeping Shéepe, to play mournfull deuises vpon his Flute, and to write and graue in the barke of Trées, certaine amorous son­nets, and Passions of a Louer, which as the Trees grew, so his seuerall Sonnets flourished vpon them.

And albeit he was resolute to liue from al company, yet when Florendos came vnto him, he found him so néere agréeing to his complexion, and his manners and motion coyned in the like stampe, that he was glad to receiue him for a partner in his hea­uinesse. So that they liued together with Hearbes and roots, pangs, griefe, sobbes, sighes and salt teares, the daily foode and sustenance of a Louer, this was both their sollace and sorrow, till Armello caused them to depart from thence, as you haue heard discoursed already.

It so fortuned, as these two careful Princes rode along by the Sea side, they espied a little Galley comming towards them, wherein sat a Lady endued with such singular beauty, attyred in blacke, and accompanied with such a modest behauiour, as e­uery one might iudge her to bee some person of Nobilitie. At this Ladies feete sat two aged women, who espying these two Princes, commanded the Marriners to row to the Shoare, when beholding the Princes very rufully, the Lady saluted them in this sort. Sir Knights, I desire the one of you to doe me so great fauour, as to come abord my Galley, to aide me in a cause, which desireth the helpe of one onely Knight. Faire La­dy (answered Florendos) we beare Armes for no other purpose, but to imploy our selues in the aide of distressed persons, so en­tring the Galley, he commanded Armello his Esquire, to take his Horse, and expect his comming at the Castell of the Giant Almerol, where he would not faile to méete him.

Thus leauing the Prince Floraman, the Galley launched forth, that it was quickly out of sight: wherefore he rid on, de­siring the company of Florendos, to whom he became maruel­lous affectionate. After he had trauailed thrée daies, he came to a very strong Bridge, at the foure corners whereof, was foure very faire strong Towers erected, being desirous to approch [Page] there vnto, he espied a Knight willing to passe, but an other de­nied him, saying: if he would leaue his Shielde behind him, and giue vp his name to be signed in writing, as was the cu­stome of the Fortresse, he should be permitted to passe quietly. Such an ill custome (answered the Knight) was not ordained to hinder such as my selfe, but rather for such, as could not make their part good against their enemie: this sayde, he gaue his shield that he bare to his Esquire, and receiued another of him, and so encountred with the knight of the bridge, but he not able to withstand the force of the Speare, was dismounted from his Horse, and throwen into the water. Horaman somewhat a­bashed at this hardy encounter, approached néere the Bride, where he behold in the Esquires hand, the Portrait of the faire Princesse Miragarda, which made him desirous to stay, to sée how this enterprise would take conclusion. The Knight of the bridge was no sooner giuen the turne ouer, but there in one of the Towers one sounded a Horne very vehemently, at sound wherof a knight came forth, bearing in his hand a mighty Axe: wherwith approching to the knight, he charged them with ma­ny sharpe and dangerous strokes, but in the ende, such was the valour of the other Knight, that hee laide him flate vpon the ground, giuing his place to another, because he had no leisure to arise. Then came foorth a tall and ougly Giant, bringing in his hand a Mace of iron, & to the knight he deliuered these taunts. Thou destroyer of my blood, doe thy duty to defend thy selfe, for to reuenge the horrible iniury thou hast offered me, I intend to cutte thy body in so many pieces, that the Fowles of the ayre shall be glutted with thy carkasse. The knight refusing to giue him any answere, couered himselfe with his Shield, so that betwéene the Giant and him, began a terrible and dangerous Combate, but in the ende, the Knight who was named the va­liant Albayzar, so coniured the giant, that he left him not while there was any life in him. Albayzar being very sore woun­ded, and seeing no more resistance come, entred the Foretresse, where he stayed till he was able to deale with Floraman, who desired to haue a sling at him, for to get the Shield of the faire Miragarda. For being in that low estate, he did estéeme it great [Page] dishonour to assaile him: because couragious mindes, rather de­sire to encounter those who haue might to resist them, then to deale with such as haue no power to defend themselues. Wher­fore he past the Bridge, not knowing whither he were best to take his way: for his desire was, not to absent himselfe farre thence, because he would not loose the commoditie to sight with Albayzar: in the meane time he wasted away the idle houres, in this woonted silent and amourous Passions.

CHAP. XLXIIII.
Here is declared, to whom the Fortresse vpon the Bridge be­longed, where Albayzar behaued himself so worthily, and why the Custome was ordained. And of that which hap­pened to Florendos, sailing in the Galley with the Lady.

IN circumstance of the History it is mentio­ned, that the Duke Artilio in Spaine, had a daughter, who liuing to enioy his possessions after him, was nourished in company of the faire Belizarda, daughter to the King Recin­da. But loue hauing gained the power of the aforesaid Lady, caused her to be fancied of the Prince Onistalde, with such continuance betwéene them, that in the end their desires happened to take effect.

But after the Prince had receiued the order of Knighthood, in the Court of the Emperor Palmerin, hee changed his minde, and became affectionate towards a Princesse in the Emperors Court, so that he forgat the Duchesse, in such sort, as neuer since his departure, it was her fortune so sée him.

The Duchesse perceiuing his vnkind dealing, and shée not able to er [...]lude it from her memorie, ordained this Custome at the Bridge, where she had a Castle, and caused the passage to be kept by the Giant Lamortan, with two Knighes more of his li­nage, who suffered no Knight to passe the Bridge, without lea­uing his Shield and name in writing, perswading her selfe by this deuise, at length to recouer her beloued Onistalde.

For his sake were many Knights in great danger, who as­sailed themselues in that strange aduenture, till the valiant Albayzar came who ended the custome, to the great griefe and vexation of the Duchesse. Neuerthelesse, for the bountie and valure she perceuied in him, she commanded that hee should bee [Page] honourably vsed, till he had recouered the hurt of his wounds, so that Albayzar stayed there in the Fortresse of the Dutchesse a good while, till at last he departed from her, and tooke his iour­ney toward Constantinople.

Now as concerning the Prince Florendos, who saled al the night with the Lady, till in the morning they discouered a Ca­stle in the middest of the Sea, which was very artificiall foun­ded vpon a Rocke: where taking occasion to strike on shore, she began to Florendos in this manner. Sir Knight, now will I declare for what cause I haue brought you to this place, letting passe my boldnesse vnder your knightly courtesie. Within this Castell abideth a Damosell, of as little vertue as beauty, who vnderstanding that I had espoused one of the fairest Lords in this Countrey, deuised the meane to acquaint her selfe with him, by reporting that a Knight had depriued her of one of her Castels, so that by her intreaty, she won him to stay her Cham­pion in her distressed cause. At the time as she had gotten him to her Castle, she fell into such vnlawfull liking of him, that she vowed neuer to suffer him to depart from thence, vnlesse such a Knight came, as could preuaile against fiue Knightes of mar­uellous strength, but against more then one Knight, shee will not suffer Champion to enter combat, so that I stand in doubt, neuer to recouer my louing Lord and Husband againe, Faire Lady (saith Florendos) send you to summon these fiue Knights to the sight, meane while I will prouide my selfe to stand in your defence.

Shortly after, he aduanced himselfe toward the Castel gate, he espied the fiue Knights to com forth at a false doore, who were all strongly armed, and to the Prince one of them began in this order. Sir knight, wee esteeme it best for you to yeeld your selfe, seeing Fortune hath been so much your enemie to conduct you hither: so shall you find vs friendly to you, where otherwise you may incurre your selfe double despite.

Trust me (said Florendos) first I intend to trie your cruel­tie, before I will vse any regard of your gentlenes: afterward I will make you answere of my further intent. Vpon this they came and assailed the Prince, and he likewise behaued himselfe [Page] with great agility against them: so that they confessed, they had neuer found such valour to remaine in one Knight, and he, ne­uer to haue assayed a more perillous aduenture. Often they staied and fell to it againe, the Prince hauing slaine two of them, and the Lady vsing reprochfull wordes vnto them, that they fiue had not the power to preuaile against one, which set the other in such a chafe, that they began to charge him with vn­mercifull blowes, seeing they had no way to escape from him, because on the one side the sea hindered them, and into the Ca­stell they could not retyre, for the lady within had commanded the gate to be made fast. Wherefore two of them fell downe dead before him, when the last Knight séeing the danger he stood in, tooke the point of his Sword in his hand, and humbled him­selfe before the Prince, as thus.

Most worthy Knight, since fortune hath allowed you the ho­nour of this victorie, and that you haue preuailed against all my companions, let pitty enter into your heart, to saue the life of him, who most humbly submitteth himselfe to your mercy. I grant thée thy life (said Florendos) because I will not bée thought of such a bloody mind, to kill him that is not able to resist me.

Then sat he downe to rest himselfe, the Lady vsing great care to bind vp his wounds: when the Lady within the Castle, standing in feare lest her stubbornnes might procure the greater iniury, sent one of the damsels, who opened the gate, which Flo­rendos séeing, tooke the Lady by the hand, and entred the castel, where they met the Lord that had béen prisoner so long, who imbraced his Lady with very great thankes, for bringing the Knight that had won him his liberty, to whom he began in this order.

Worthy sir, your Knightly déedes haue gained such honour, that I cannot make estimation of them according as they haue worthily deserued, but if it shall please you to rest here a while, we will yéeld you what courtesie we can, and then we will de­part together. Florendos gaue him great thankes, and stayed there to sée the Lady that kept the castle: but he could not attaine to his desire, because she had made her selfe fast in her Chamber, [Page] so that no one might come to haue a sight of her.

Then went he to sée the place, where the Lady vsed to impri­son the Knights, amongst whom he found the Prince Guerin: who reioyced maruelously to see Florendos, and knowing that he had finished this hard aduenture, he accounted himselfe hap­py to be in his company.

After that eight daies were expired, they departed in a Gal­ley from thence, to the house of the Knight and the Lady, where Guerin and hee found themselues so gratiously vsed, as if they had béen in the Court of Constantinople.

Within a while after, they tooke their leaue of the Knight and the Lady, who gaue to each of them a very good Horse, and in their trauelling together, they parted from one another, be­cause Florendos desired to iourney alone, that he might better approoue the aduenture, which Fortune had reserued for him.

CHAP. LXXV.
How Palmerin, Florian and Pompides, in their trauaile met with a Damosell, who brought them to the Castle of Dra­morant the Cruell: where they found Albayzar with the shield of Miragarda, who had vanquished twelue knights, and slew Dramorant the Lord of the Castle.

PAlmerin and his brethren, continuing in their trauaile towardes Constantinople, riding thorow a Forrest, saw a Lady come riding towards them in very great feare: who being come somewhat neare them, Florian staied her Palfray, saying: Faire Lady, I pray you to shewe vs the cause of your feare? Alas sir (quoth she) how can I stay to report any thing, séeing I dare scant assure my selfe in your company? for when I enterprised my iourney to the Court of the French Quéene, two knights came and resisted me, endeuouring them selues to abuse mine honour. But Fortune was so fauourable to me, that at my cry, a Knight came who defended my cause: and behaued himselfe so worthily against them, that in open fight he slew them both. Then passing by a Castle at the end of this stone wal, he was assailed by twelue Knights: who, I feare me, will be the death of him, if he be not spéedily holpen by some good rescue, and trust me Gentlemen, the losse of him would be very great, being one of the most hardy knights in al the world. I pray you Lady (said Florian) bring vs to the Castle where the knight remaineth in such danger as you seeme to report: for it were great pittie, to suffer such a knight to die for lacke of helpe, Although (quoth she) I was otherwise determined, yet will I bring you to the place, as well to try your worthinesse, as also shew my good will to the Knight, who in his owne danger hath pleasured me so much.

This said, they rode on together, & in short time they heard [Page] the clattering of the weapons, where they found the knight to haue slaine fiue or sixe of the Knightes, behauing himselfe also very manfully against the other, whereat the Prince fell into great admiration, which the Lady séeing, how they sate still and looked on, began to enter into these wordes. Why Gentlemen? if you determined to doe nothing when you came, it had béene more honour for you to haue kept on your iourney, rather then to suffer so good a knight to be slaine in your presence, and you stand by refusing to aid him, which maketh me iudge, that your weapons are very ill bestowed on you. Faire Lady (answe­red Palmerin) the Knight doeth so well discharge his dutie, that we should offer him great wrong if we presumed to aid him: for so might we cut off the praise, which he should worthily beare in the obtaining the victory, which is the only cause of our stay. Mary, if we should perceiue the Knights, to haue any dange­rous aduantage ouer him, then would we shewe him such ayde in their resistance, that you should recall your words, and haue a better opinion of vs. While they continued this Parle, the Knight (who was the famous Albayzar) of the twelue knights had left but foure aliue, which vrged Florian to this opinion in words. I belieue that this knight is ordained, to darkē the déeds of all Knights, yours onely accepted déere Brother Palmerin, wherevnto I know he neither can nor may approch, neuerthe­lesse, I know not any one that professeth knightly Armes, but would striue to exalt his déeds, seeing the behauiour of so noble a Champion. In fine, they perceiued all the Knights to be slaine, except two, who were constrained to yéelde themselues to this noble conquerour, when presently came forth Dramorant him­selfe, very brauely mounted & strongly armed, which Albayzar seeeing, mounted on his horse, & came to the prince Palmerin and his Brethren in this manner. I pray you gentlemen, to bestow one of your speares vpon me, to receiue the knight that prepa­reth himselfe against me, assuring you, that I will not forget to remēber your courtesie in so doing. Sir, said Palmerin, because it is dutie to fauour such a Knight as you, I am content to giue you mine, but mée thinkes, seeing your selfe sore hurt, you should rest awhile, and referre the Iust to one of vs.

[Page] Albayzar taking the Speare of Palmerin, said: If Fortune bée so much mine enemy, that she suffer me to be brought into this knights subiection, you shall haue the better leisure and loue, to manifest the prowesse which remaineth in you. Then his Es­quire seeing his master to want a shield, came and presented him the Portrait of the faire Miragarda, but Albayzar refusing it, said. That it was rather made to looke on, then to employ it to any vse in fight. So preparing himselfe to run at Dramorant, who séeing him destitute of a sheeld, cast his owne to the ground with these words. Albayzar, I am very sory to sée thée in this poore estate, because the victory I might obtaine in vanquishing thée, cannot returne any great honour to me: and because thou shalt not thinke me, to haue any aduantage of thée, I giue thee this priuiledge which neuer yet had any. Here ending his talke, they fetched their course, and met each other with such pusi­sance, that they were both forced to fall to the ground, very sore hurt: then rising and taking their Swordes, they beganne so fierce a Combat, that Palmerin did highly commend the valour of Albayzar, whom he would gladly haue knowledge of, which made him to begin in this manner.

Truly I make such account of him, that detaineth in his puissance the Shield of Miragarda, as I verily beléeue, Dra­musiande who had it in kéeping, hath bin vanquishing & brought into his subiection, which doth vrge me to great maruell, seeing I could obtaine very little more at his hands, so that were this Knight so well disposed as I, I would hazard my selfe a­gainst him, to bring the shield to the place from whence he hath brought it. Credite me, said Florian, I can hardly beleeue that Dramusiande is as yet vanquished, albeit the déeds of this Knight may mooue vs to thinke it: wherefore let him first fi­nish his combat, and then we may be resolued out of this doubt. Albayzar & Dramorant stroue so long together, that Palmerin would haue parted them, but his labour was in vaine: for Al­bayzar would by no meanes giue ouer, till hée had discharged Dramorant of his vitall breath. When himselfe being at the point ready to faint with his long trauaile, as also the losse of his blood: Palmerin, Horian, and the Lady came and sustained [Page] him, leading him into the Castle, where they were better re­ceiued then they looked for, and had good leisure to attend the wounds of Albayzar, which were very many, as also verie dangerous.

CHAP. LXXVI.
How Florian and Albazar made defiance each to other, and appointed to end their strife in the Court of the Emperour Palmerin.

BEcause you shall vnderstand more of Dramorant the Cruel, the Historie declareth, how Eutropa the aunt of the Giant Dramusiande, had a Brother, who was named Dramorant, one of the stoutest Giants that in his time liued. He being in his flourishing yéeres, became amorous of a faire Damosell, the daughter of a wise and dis­creete Gentlewoman, who would not giue her consent to the marriage, wherefore he tooke her away perforce, and had a Son by her, named Dramorant, whose hauty and valiant déeds in time obtained the name of Cruell. It chanced the mother died in her trauell, which strooke so déepe to the hart of the Giant, seeing her dead by whose loue his life was maintained, that he through extreame griefe dyed shortly after, wherfore the child was kept by his grandmother, vntill such time as he grew in yeares and strength, more then in decent and vertuous manners: for his whole endeuour was, to kill the innocent, rauish and spoile fayre Ladies, with his continuall inclination to all desperate and cruell attempts, so that he was feared of the Countrey round about him, vntil such time as Albayzar came, and preuailed against him as you haue heard before. Palmerin, Florian, and Pompides, keeping him [Page] company in the Castle, vntill he had attained a better disposition: Florian desired him to report, how he had gotten the shield of Miragarda. For (quoth he) I know not wel what to thinke, because he that kept it, is well knowne to be one of the best Knights that euer professed armes.

Sir said Albayzar, I haue woon the shield by Prowesse and worthinesse, and haue vanquished him that vndertooke to kéepe it. Moreouer, I haue vowed not onely to present it my Lady Targiana, whose Knight and obedient seruant I am till death, but also to shew it in all Princes Courts in the world, to ma­nifest to all Knights, who dare auouch the contrary, that my Lady Targiana, is the most faire and noble Princesse liuing. And in this opinion, I will first goe to the Court af the Empe­rour Palmerin, to make proofe of that which I haue here pro­fessed.

Florian hearing his spéeches so proude and arrogant, greatly enuied thereat, and returned this answere. I am of the opinion Sir, that this enterprise will returne you small aduantage: for you shall finde in his Court, Ladies, to whose beautie your Targiana will séeme altogether counterfeyte. But that which is more, you shall finde so many Knights to enter this chal­lenge, that I doubt you shall receiue more shame by this ridi­culous intent, then either fame or praise can any way beare you company.

Albayzar in a great anger, staied Florian with these termes. Sir knight, you sée wel in what estate I am at this present, but if you dare take the paines to come to the Emperous Court, whither I intend to goe so soone as I may possible: I will cause you to know, how farre the beautie of my Targiana doeth sur­mount any Lady that you can name, if so be you dare enter the Combate with me: and hereon I giue you my hand, that I wil not faile to be there as soone as you, if so be I may possible, wher our déedes shall witnesse the worthinesse of the cause that we maintaine.

The thrée Princes vpon this departed presently, leauing Al­bayzar, to whom we will returne when occasion shall serue: but they endeauoured themselues so well in trauaile, that they [Page] arriued in the kingdom of Hungaria, being glad they had attai­ned so néere to Constantinople. But Palmerin remained in his former doubts, as concerning the commaund of his Lady and Mistresse: but Siluian the onely Phisition of these extreame Passions, gouerned his maisters cogitations excéeding well. Neuerthelesse, his two Brethren perceiued somewhat, yet they durst not intrude themselues in the matter, but rid on till they came to a place, where they would take shipping to passe into Greece. And while the Mariners were prouiding for their de­parture, the Princes delighted to walke along in a faire plaine, where they had not long staied, but they espied a Coach couered all with blacke, and thrée Esquires that droue it, making very dolefull and grieuous lamentations. Vpon this mourneful spec­tacle, Florian approached the Coach, and lifting vp the cloath, he beheld a knight lying in gréene armor, so imbrued with blood, that one could hardly iudge of what colour it was. This moo­ued Florian to great heauines, and being desirous to know the cause of his misfortune, he came to one of the Esquires, willing him to report, by what mischance the Knight was slaine. The Esquire hauing small leisure to stay, made him shortly answere in this sort.

If you desire to vnderstand ye infortunate hap of this knight, follow me, and I shall bring you to the aduenture, where you may atchieue such rare renowne, that neither death, nor time is able to extinguish out of memorie. Surely (quoth Florian) I haue alwayes desired to imploy my selfe, where I supposed to be the greatest danger, yet could neither feare dismay me, nor any doubt hinder me. And thus concluding his spéeches, he fol­lowed the Coach, desirous to sée the ende of that the Esquire had told him. Palmerin and Pompides séeing him gone so soone, walked softly along the valley, when in a while a Damosel pre­sented her selfe before them, mounted on a blacke palfray, and saluted them in this manner. I desire you gentlemen, that one of you would so much fauour me, as to goe with me to the suc­cour of a Lady, whom thrée knights endeuour to abuse, & to put herto death in most cruel maner. Pompides hearing the cōplait of the Damosell, began as thus to the Prince Palmerin.

[Page] Séeing this present enterprse, doth not require your force to be showne therein, I pray you giue me leaue to accompany the Da­mosell, that I may try how Fortune wil assist me in this cause.

Palmerin, who desired to be alone in the company of Siluian was very glad that Pompides should assist the Damosell: so ta­king leaue of each other, Pompide [...] departed about his enter­prise, and Palmerin to the accustomed remembrance of his Lady Polinarda, wherein he wasted so much time, that he could not repaire to any place of lodging, but was glad for that night, to take his rest in a little thicket of trées. Where he had sooner laid him downe, but he heard one complaine in very doleful maner: when drawing neare, the better to heare him (the night being so darke as they could not descrie one another) he heard the hea­uy waight begin as thus. O fond Florendos, why doest thou thus complaine of thy griefe, séeing thy Lady Miragarda doeth take such delight therein, that she forceth not of his vtter ruine, who submitteth himselfe chiefely vnder her gratious regard? I knewe right well, that all trauaile may be ended, in the desire of one to doe you seruice: but what shall he doe, to whom you vse such entertainment, that you may not permit him leasure, that doeth you most honour, nor will suffer him to be forgotten and depriued of life, whereby hee might haue lesse occasion to com­plaine of your crueltie? So ending his mo [...]es with a grieous sigh, he sate him down and fel asléepe: then Palmerin perceiuing it was the prince Florendos, determined oftentimes to make himselfe knowne, but fearing to hinder him of his enterprise, changed his minde: bewailing as much the heauines of Floren­dos, as he did the extreame case of his owne misfortune. And when the day appeared, hee departed as secretly as he could thence away: desiring to attaine the Emperours court, where he might conclude the seuerall motions of doubt and feare, which Loue presented to his oppressed minde.

CHAP. LXXVII.
How Florian, accompanying the Coatch with the dead knight, met on the Seas with Arduramet, the bastard Bro­ther of the valiant Albayzar, where they defied each other to the Combate. And what haphened to Pompides, fol­lowing the Lady.

FLorian of the Desart, kéeping company with with the Coach & the three Esquires, being a great way out of sight from his bre­thren, one of them began thus to conferre with him. Syr, seeing you desire so much to knowe the Knight who is slaine, and that you seeme affectionate to reuenge his wrōg if neede were, giue eare, and I wil discourse thereof to you at large. You shall vnderstand that this Knight is named Sortibran, the eldest Brother of the famous King Frisol, whose worthinesse hath [...] beene such, that hée e­uer bare the name of the most [...] in all his king­dome.

So it is, that Fortune very little [...] to him, as ye­ster-day conducted an Esquire [...], who with wéeping teares, desired So [...]bran to [...] doubtful cause, wher­to he courteously gaue his consent, not thinking on the treche­rous intent of the Esquire, who brought him into a place wherefoure of his enemies awaighted his comming, and setling him­selfe against them all, in the ende Sortibran was there cruelly slaine. We being aduertised of this great mishappe, came to fetch him to his Castle, where he might see his wounded body honourably interred, meane while, one of his young Sonnes is gone to the Court, to sooke some knight that will reuenge his Fathers death. Therefore, if you desire to Dsisist and succour [Page] him in this case, you shall not onely enlarge your eternall re­nowne, but also shall worke such occasion, that none may or dare presume to commit any such Treason. Florian promising the Esquires to accomplish them request, rid on with them, till they came to the Sea coast, where they entred a Galley, that attended their comming, and hauing there sh [...]ed the body of Sortibran, they sailed away with a pleasant gale of winde.

Not long had they been on the Seas, but they were discoue­red by foure Turkish Galleyes, [...] presently and bor­ded them, when [...], who was a Moore, [...] into their ves­sell, where beholding [...] Florian, and iudging him to be a noble Knight, he entertained him very courteously, commanding the Esquires, to cast the dead body of their Lord into the Sea, and the next morning they heysed sailes, to goe on their iourney.

This Arduramet was the bastard brother to the Prince Al­bayzar, who was trauailing to seeke him, to giue him to vnder­stand, that the Soldane of Babylon his Father was dead, after whom it was his right to succeede his place. Arduramet in tal­king with Florian, demanded of him, that any time he had heard of the Prince Albayzar, and reported such marks and tokens to him, that he knew well it was he, that had vanquished Dra­morant the Cruell.

Then bethinking him of the Combat, assigned betwéen him and Albayzar, to be performed in the Emperours Court, and that his businesse had so chanced, as he could not meete him there at the appointed time, he begā to be greatly offēded with himself, in so much, that Arduramet desired him to shew the cause of his heauinesse.

But when he had vnderstood each seuerall clause, in a great anger hée began this to rage: Thinkest thou there is any Knight in the World, that may or dare attempt against my Lord and Brother Albayzar: certainely thou art much behol­ding to Fortune, from deliuering thée from so great a danger.

[Page] Neuerthelesse, if thou hast so great a desire to shew thy prowesse as here thou dost séeme to vse in protestation, let vs now goe to the Court of the great Turke, where I will make thée confesse before the Princesse Targiana, that Albayzar is the most hono­rable knight liuing on the earth, and she, the onely and perfect Goddesse for beauty. Beside, if thou thinkest he hath offred thée any wrong, if thy stomacke serue thée thereto, reuenge thy selfe on me, who will die in his cause, for proofe wherof, receiue there my Gloue, if thou dare.

Florian, who desired to manifest his valour in strange coun­tries, receiued very gladly the challenge of Arduramet, who thinking to honour his Brother with the Conquest of Florian, went to the Court of the great Turke, where to their determi­nation, at this time we will leaue them.

Let vs now remember Pompides, who trauailed with the Damosel till they came to a thicket of Trées, where he heard one make a very great clamour, and looking aside, beheld a Knight offering monstrous dishonour to a Lady, and two Knights sitting by on Horsebacke, laughing at the simple shift she made, to defend her selfe from the villainous intent of the knight.

Pompides not able to suffer so great shame in his sight, cou­ched his launce against him that abused the Lady, so that he ran him cleane thorow the head, and laid him dead on the ground before him: and dealing roughly a while with the other twaine, he serued them both of the same sauce, as the iust desert of them that would abuse themselues in so vile a sort.

Then came the Lady, and submitted her selfe at the féete of Pompides, but the feare she sustained by their crueltie, would hardly suffer her to vse any spéech: wherefore Pompides taking her in his armes, and seing the heauy estate, and great perplex­itie, he comforted her in this manner.

Faire Lady, let no feare as now séeme to dismay your mind, for here is no body, but such as will imploy themselues in your defence.

My Lord (quoth shee) these bloodie minded men haue brought me into such feare, that albeit I sée dead before [Page] my face, yet the remembrance of their crueltie doeth still make me afraide: wherefore I desire you to depart, and leaue me to mourne my great mishap, else shall I still be fearefull, as the Bird on the branch in danger of the Fowler.

Pompides began to smile, to sée the little trust the Lady repo­sed is his company: neuerthelesse, minding to satisfie her desire, who was very beautifull, as also of a vertuous and honest dis­position, he departed from her, accompanied with the Damosel that had brought him thither. Who reported to him, how the Knights that would haue rauished the Lady, met with her as she trauailed toward the Court of king Frisol, who were new­ly come from the slaughter of Sortibran, and méeting with her, endeuoured by their faire spéech to allure her to their lust, but when they sawe she would not consent, they would vrge her to it perforce. So Pompides departing from her, followed after Palmerin, because he desired to trauell still in his company.

CHAP. LXXVIII.
Of that which happned to Palmerin of England, after he was departed from the Prince Florendos, and how while hee was fighting with the Giant Bracandor, Albayzar arriued there and holpe him to ouercome his enemies.

AFter that Palmerin had left Florendos slée­ping at the Trée, he came into a Forrest, halfe a mile from the Citie of Buda, where the King of Hungaria lay, and there he per­ceiued a company of Knights and Ladies by a Fountaine, wherefore fearing least their company might bee some hinderance to is trauaile, he turned his Horse to ride an other way, for it was all his intent to abandon place of resort, because hee [Page] might the better commune and dispute of his Loue. As he was ryding, he turned his head, and espied these plea­sant company by the Fountaine, to be very fiercely figh­ting together: wherfore he turned againe to goe thither, where he sawe this great conflict, but before he came, all was done and quiet, because the enemy had takē them that gladly stroue with resistance, who were the Duthesses of Pontus and Duracā tra­uailing to the Court of their noble Father, in the company of the prince Ditree, who in this vnfortunate skirmish was slain. Which vrged Palmerin to great heauinesse when he saw him, as also the heauy cry the Ladies made, being in the hold of Bra­candor, a mightie Giant, inhabiting there in a Rocke, and had ten Knights there daily waiting on him.

Palmerin pitying the Ladies mishap, couched his speare, and ran against the Giant with such force, that he laid him along on the earth, in manner as though he were starke dead: which the ten Knights standing by & séeing, came altogether running vpon him, but he defended himselfe so wel, that they had not the power to vnhorse him, for his hardy blowes made them quickly coole their courage. Bracandor being risen vp againe, comman­ded the knights to retire, because he would reuengo his iniury himselfe: wherevpon they gaue ouer, when the Giant and Pal­merin sternly dealing with one another, Bracandor in the ende began greatly to faint. The Knights seeing the danger he was in, forced not of their Maisters commaund, but came and beset the Prince Palmerin, who (albeit he receiued many dangerous hurts) paide them their due, but little to their profit.

The Ladies continued in prayers for his good assistance, estée­ming him the best knight that euer they had seene: and Bracan­dor seeing the maruellous force of one onely knight, beganne to blaspheme his God, and ran in such violent manner against the Prince, that had not God indued him with great pollicie and force, the least of his blowes was sufficient to haue slaine him. Bracandor beholding six of his knights slaine, through his dan­gerous woundes, and dispaire of himselfe, fell to the ground: Palmerin being well pleased to be rid of such an enemy, in short time sent the other foure to beare their Maister company, to [Page] whom he came, offering to take off his Helmet, that hée might haue presently cut off his head.

But Astapardo came foorth accompanied with ten knights, and charged him so sudainly, that he had not leisure to commend himselfe to his Mistreffe. Palmerin was reduced into very great perplexitie, yea, and his death appointed in this furious skir­mish: had not the puissant Albayzar presently arriued there, who seeing the great iniury was offered to one knight, and that it was he which gaue him his speare, when he fought against Dramorant the Cruell: he ran against Astapardo in such man­ner, that his speare went quite thorow his body and Armor, and the other behaued themselues so well, that the most part were slaine, the rest saued their liues by flight. Palmerin séeing him­selfe deliuered from so great a perill, came & offered great thanks to the Prince Albayzar: but he not suffering him to vse any such courtesie, without making knowne what or who he was, set spurres to his Horse, and rid away in great haste.

Then Palmerin returned to Bracandor, and finding him to be as yet aliue, he commanded the Esquires to leade him after him, and so he rode to the City of Buda, accompanied with the Duchesses and the Ladies, who were very sorie for the death of Ditree and their other Knights, but well pleased againe by the noble and hautie déeds of Palmerin.

CHAP. LXXIX.
Here shal be declared vnto you, what and who the Giant Bra­candor was, & wherfore he came to remaine in that place.

SVch report the History deliuereth vnto vs, that in the Perilous Isle there remained a Giant named Bucarquant, who ruled the Isle in such cruel maner, that his subiects the did stand in more doubt of him the death. So that to put him beside the gouernement of the Isle, they concluded to conspire his death by poyson. As for his Sonne Bra­candor, who was innocent of the wicked and diuillish déedes of his Father, yet fearing that gouernement would prick him to the like cruelty, they chased him out of the Isle, giuing him no o­ther company, then his Nephew Astapardo. These twaine went into the Kingdome of Hungaria, where they purposed to people a little Mountaine, to which they had giuen the name of the Inhabited Rock, for in no other place might they be suffered to liue in quiet, because reuenge would be sought for the cruell déeds of Bucarquant. There they had gotten a company of bloody minded and dishonest knights liuing by robbery, deflowring faire Virgins and Ladies, and all villainous déeds that might be deuised, till at last they heard of these Duchesses, who went to sée King Frisol their Father in law, accompanied with the Prince Ditree and other Knights. Suddenly they came and set vpon them, so that the Prince and the Knightes were slaine, as also fiue of them belonging to Bracandor, till to their rescue came the Prince Palmerin, who behaued himselfe as you haue heard before.

When they were come to the Citie of Buda, the King Frisol vnderstanding the death of his Sonne, tooke it so heauily, as [Page] such a great losse did forceable constraine him, yet hee dissembled his griefe, and came with the Duchesse to the Prince Palmerin, giuing very great thankes for his courtesie, and commanded he should be vsed with maruellous good respect, till his wounds were healed, and his strength somewhat better increased. The Citizens tooke the giant Bracandor, & without the kings leaue they put him to death, burning his bones, that nothing might be left to be séene of such a cruell villaine. Soone after, King Fri­sol, not able to withstand the extremitie of his griefe, méekely yéelded his daies to the stroke of death, which was no smal griefe to his noble Linage, but as well to his loiall & obedient subiects, who greatly lamented the losse of such a gratious Prince.

His Obsequies and Funerales most magnifically finished, Estrellant the Son of the Prince Ditree, receiued the name of their rightfull and renowned king, who committed the gouern­ment of the Scepter to one of the most noble Lords in all Hun­garia, because his time of ease was not as yet come, but would follow the exercise of a valiant Knight at Armes. And Palmerin staied a while in the Citie of Buda, till his strength would per­mit him to beare Armour, and then hee followed his intent, which was alwaies to sée the places of greatest aduenture.

CHAP. LXXX.
How Don Florian being in the Court of the great Turke, en­tred the fight with the Bastard Arduramet, and vanquished him.

HEere must we remember Arduramet and the Prince Florian, who being landed, came to the Turkes Court, where Ardu­ramet receiued great thankes of the Turke himselfe, for the Prisoners he had taken in his fortunate voyage. Then comming to the Princes Targiana, whose gentle nature [Page] afforded him a gracious welcome: Arduramet deliuered his speeches in this manner. My gracious Lady, since the time I departed from your excellencie, I haue endured along and te­dious trauell, to recouer my Lord and Brother Albayzar. And albeit it was not my Fortune to méete with him, yet haue I heard such report of his déeds, as my heart is contented, and my labours finished, assuring you, that he hath woone such renown against the Christians, that they which haue no knowledge of him, doe daily desire both to sée him, and to make proofe of their puissant behauiour against him.

Beside, I haue heard, that he hath conquered the Shield of the faire Miragarda, wherewith he is gone to the Court of the Emperor Palmerin, to maintaine against all knights that dare auouch the contrarie, your séemely selfe, to be the onely God­desse of beautie on the earth. And during the time I was in his search, it happened I tooke certaine prisoners: among whom I found this Knight, who both told mee newes of my Lord Albayzar, and how hee had assigned to fight against him in the Emperours Court, wherupon such words arose betwéen vs, that we haue appointed a Combat to be tried and ended in this Court.

Florian séeing the great pride of Arduramet, was stricken with such coller, that hée began to vtter his mind in these spée­ches. Arduramet, we are arriued in this place, where I must en­tend the meane to accomplish my promise. And albeit Albayzar is a valiant knight at Armes, as the effect of his déeds do mani­fest no lesse: yet will I maintaine and prooue against you, that he hath not won the Shield by any manner of Conquest. As for the Prince Targiana, her beautie I both estéeme and con­fesse of such authoritie, as he that ventureth the field in her fa­uour, cannot chuse but spéed happily in all his déedes. But if it shall please her to licence mee the Field, I will defend against you, Albayzar, and all the Knights of your law, that I rather deserue to be receiued in her seruice, then you all, or any that you can estéeme of.

Arduramet, who could not suffer these braue words, especially [Page] of one that was his prisoner, in a rage cast his Helmet on the ground, & began to raile in these tearmes that follow. Oh Ma­homet, why doest thou suffer in my presence, a Christian to pre­sume in so vile and presumptuous brags? My gratious Lady, I desire you to assure this miscreant the Field, for I vow not to leaue him, til I haue reuenged this rare and monstrous iniury.

Targiana commanded Florian to take of his helmet, to whose will in gentle manner he presently obeyed: but he was so offen­ded with the words of Arduramet, that his beauty was farre o­therwise, then it was alwayes accustomed, for which cause, the Princesse commanded Arduramet to depart, and to make him­selfe ready to enter the combate. As for the Prince Florian, her affection was so greatly placed on him, that she tooke him priso­ner vnder her protection: and the better to assure him safe from danger, she commaunded fiftie Knights should be presently ar­med, to sée that none might come neare to hurt him, during the time he should combate with Arduramet.

Then Florian kissing her hand, departed to the place appoin­ted for the fight, and she vp into the Chamber, to see how euery thing happened, and then came the f [...]e knights into the field by the aduice of Targiana, where Arduramet was prauncing like a noble champion, and the great Turke himselfe stood in the window by his Daughter, desirous to sée the ende of this noble enterprise.

Ardumaret bowing himselfe to the Princesse Targiana, cou­ched his Speare against the Prince Florian, with these words. Now, my Lady, I will cause this Knight to knowe, that your seruants can, and will bring all other into their subiection: but Florian brake his Speare so valiantly vpon him, that hee sent him to the ground with maruellous violence, wherat the great Turke was somewhat displeased, but Targiana greatly trium­phed.

Arduramet sorrowfull for this mishap, came to the Prince with his Sword in his hand, as thus. Sir knight, my Sword shall make amends for this fault, which if thou offer not the sooner to resist, I will trench my Blade in the bellie of thy Horse. I perceiue well (said Florian) it is néedlesse to vse any [Page] aduantage to such a knight as you, and so descending from his horse, betwéene them began a dangerous Combate. Wherein Florian so cruelly martired the Armour of Arduramet, that the great Turke would gladly haue had them parted, fearing the death of Arduramet, but Targiana desired him to let him trie it out, because her minde did assure the victory to the strange knight.

Arduramet séeing himselfe so ill intreated, thought many times to haue yeelded himselfe: but thinking on the shame hée might get in so doing, concluded to fight till his latter gaspe, which in short time he did, and fell downe dead at the féete of Florian, who departed out of the field, and came to the princesse Targiana, in whose presence he fell on his knée, vttering these spéeches. Faire Lady, it is not vnknowne to you, that through mischance and vnhappie aduenture, I haue bene brought into this land, where I am strange to all, and not knowne of any: where, séeing your bountie hath allowed me the victory, I desire in recompence of the great honor you haue done me, that I may hencefoorth imploy my selfe in your seruice, wherein I shall ma­nifest, how greatly I am bound to your gentle and curteous na­ture. Targiana somewhat changing colour, looked earnestly on her Father, and then came and receiued Florian very gratiously, allowing him to be her onely knight: whereat the great Turke was very well pleased, and he stayed there in the seruice of Tar­giana, who was no lesse affectionate towards him, then he was willing to doe that which pleased her.

CHAP. LXXXI.
How Dramusiande and Florendos sought together, and hurt each other very dangerously, and how Palmerin arriued there, and wrought the meanes to relieue their feeble e­states.

THe Giant Dramusiand, of whom no men­tion hath béen made since his departure from the Castle of Almarol, trauailed ma­ny Countries, to find the Knight that had taken the Shield of Miragarda thence: in which tranaile, he proued both famous and fortunate, that at last he arriued at the Ca­stle of Dramorant the Cruel, who was his kinsman, and there he vnderstood, that he which had slaine Dra­morant, was the Knight that carried away the shield of Mira­garda, which made him the more affectionate and desirous to séeke him. And as he rode through the Dominions of Hungar i [...], he met a Knight riding very sad and full of heauines, attired in blacke Armour: to whom he vsed a courteous gréeting, but the Knight made him no answere at all, whereupon he tooke him by the hand, saying: Sir Knight, why do you not make answer to those that offer you courtesie?

The Knight being in a sad conceit, and at these words reui­uing himselfe, cast his eyes on Dramusiande very grieuously, with this answere. Trust me sir knight, this heart of mine is so afflicted, these eyes so ouerwatched, and these eares with silent opinions so much dulled, that I am ignorant whether you salu­ted me or no: but if you should thinke I heard you, and refused to answere you with the like, credit me, you should very much deceiue your selfe. I perceiue well (quoth Dramusiande) you haue spoken the truth, wherewith I hold my selfe well conten­ted: but could you report me, where I might finde a knight, who beareth a Shield, wherein is pictured the fairest face that [Page] euer nature framed, hauing on it the letters of her name, which are, the péerelesse and inequall Miragarda.

At these words the knight gaue a grieuous sigh, saying: Sure­ly sir, I doe greatly desire to méete with him my selfe, because my trauels are to no other end, and I seeke him, onely to com­bate with him, to bring backe the Shield, with his head to the Castell of Almaroll, from whence he was so bold as to take it away. So that this enterprise toucheth me more then any one aliue: wherefore, I desire you to giue euery our trauell, and be­take your selfe to rest of your life, for mine hath been preserued in the danger of this aduenture, which maketh me the more de­sirous to follow it. Dramusiande (who was ignorant of this Knight) seeing him to vse his intent in that order, endeuoured to know him, but his labour was spent to no ende or profit. Wherefore they were so incensed with such anger, that they gaue scope to their Stéedes, and met together so nobly, that they were both dismounted to the ground, and then they fell to it a fresh with their swords, so that their Armour and expence of their blood, witnessed the dangerous estate of both their persons. For Dramusiande thought, no two Knights in the world could handle him so, without it were the noble Palmerin, or Florian his brother, which made him a great while to think this knight was one of them, till at last faintnesse one either side willed them to breath, when Dramusiande looking on his battered ar­mour, began on this manner.

Oh wretched Fortune, am I brought into such debility, that I haue not the power to vanquish this one knight? [...] me déere Mistres, I know this mishap chanceth, onely because you haue no mind to remember me. This fight haue I attempted vnder your gracious name, wherein suffer me not to be vanquished, but grant me so happy, that I may render your Shield againe into your custody: and afterward (in recompence of my dutifull and faithfull seruice) put me to death if it be your gracious plea­sure.

The Knight on the other side was as grieuously passioned, thinking verily to finish his daies in this Combate: wherefore, he began in this order to vse his complaints. Madam, I should [Page] be very happy (considering the desire I haue alwayes had) at this present houre to ende all my troubles, because your delight hath euer béene, to bring me to the last extremity of my vitall course. Yet am I highly one way contented, knowing that I die in the honourable seruice, wherwith I haue continually en­deuoured to gratifie your desire.

So breaking of his spéeches, they fel very egerly to their com­bate, and at last was brought vnto such feeblenesse, that they were both forced to fall to the ground: but Fortune, who preser­ued them to a greater conquest of honor, caused at that very in­stant, the noble Palmerin of England to arriue in that place, who knowing Dramusiande, supposed verily that he was slain, wherefore he came to the other knight, and taking his Helmet off, and perceiuing that it was the noble Florendos, he became so ouercharged with griefe, that he could hardly sustaine him­selfe from falling to the earth.

Then he commaunded Siluian to goe to the Citie, and pre­sently to bring Chirurgions with him, because he thought ve­rily they were almost past recouery: and Siluian knowing, that the death of these two knights, might be an occasion to put his Maisters life in danger, vsed such diligence, that in short time hee returned with two very expert Maisters in Chirurgerie. Palmerin desired them to manifest their knowledge at that present, in recouering the health of those dangerous wounded Knights, and his recompence should excéed in liberalitie: so when the Chirurgians had searched their wounds, they found them not so dangerous, as their weakenesse and wearinesse, wherefore they promised (by the grace of God) to bring them in­to as good estate of health as euer they were. The Prince reioy­ced at their good answere, and caused Siluian to fetch a Coach from the Citie, wherein they were brought to the house of an ancient Gentleman, and there Palmerin bare them company, vntill they were able to trauaile againe.

CHAP. LXXXII.
How Albayzar came to the Court of the Emperour Palme­rin, and of the conditions he made there, to begin his ad­uenturous intent.

VEry well prouided, and full of renowned Knights, was the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, at such time as Albayzar (ha­uing left Palmerin of England, where hée slewe Bracandor) arriued there: when a­lighting from his Horse, he came vy into the great Hal, in very faire gréene Armour, beset with golden Speares, with two Esquires attending on him, where finding the Emperour sitting with the prinoipall of his knights, he thronged thorow them, and reuerenced himselfe before the Emperour, with these spéeches.

Most dread and puissant Emperor, I haue béene constrained to visit your Court, for two causes which I hold as especial: the one to sée the noble mindes that are alwayes here abyding, the other to try my selfe against them all, on her behalfe that hath sent me hither. Giuing you to vnderstād, that for the loue of the fairest, and most noble Lady in the world, I haue béene at the Castle of the Giant Almarol, where by force I haue obtained the Shield of the faire Miragarda, which by force I beare, one­ly to honour that Saint, to whom I homage my heart, and will enforce all knights to yeeld as vassailes. So that if your High­nesse will licence me the Field, I will compell all the Knights of your Court, as also any other that dare auouch the contrary: My Lady and Mistresse Targiana, the onely Daughter to the great Turke, my Lord and Soueraigne, is she that shall beare the prize all for beautie.

And these conditions I doe require in mine attempt, that the Defendant, on his Shield shall bring the liuely Portayt of his [Page] Lady, with her name to be verified at the foote thereof, because it shall be the onely recompence the Conquerour shall gaine. And there be any, who will manifest themselues to be but indiffe­rently fauoured of their Ladies, they shall be sworne to giue in writing the name of their Mistresse.

As for him that hath the good hap to vanquish me, he shall not onely be Lord of the shield of my Lady Targiana, but shall haue likewise deliuered to him, all the shieldes which Fortune shall allow me by my prowesse. And furthermore to be granted, that the knight dismounted in the Iust, shall not haue the licence to fight with his Sword, but as vanquished, deliuer his Shield, and so depart.

Now expect I your answere most redoubted Emperour, as concerning ye request of him, that hath trauailed many a strange Countrey: and now commeth to make triall of the valure and puissance of your knights, if so be they can conceiue the courage to aduenture the combat on the behalfe of their Ladies. When he hadde ended his spéeches, a great tumult arose among the Knights and Ladies of the court, who were very desirous to sée Albayzar in the field: the Ladies, to know the valour of their a­morous seruants, and the Knights to manifest the cause to de­serue their loue, euery one wishing to quallifie this presumptu­ous challenge.

The Emperour would make no answere to Albayzar, till such time as he had conferred with his Councell: when then he returned with this reply. You haue (sir knight) attempted such a hauty enterprise, as if wée should deny, we should not onely grant our cowardise, but also hinder you of many noble Ex­ploits, to the griefe of your selfe, as also of such knights, as haue a desire to shew themselues in the field. Wherefore, the fielde is licenced you at what time you please, and your conditions al­lowed, which were before specified: but I desire you first to re­solue me of one thing, are you not allied to the Soldane Oloric­que of Babilon, because it séemeth you resemble him somwhat in fauour? My lord (answered Albayzar) the curtesie you haue offered me, moueth me in humility to kisse your gratious hand, assuring you that I am the son of the Soldane Oloricque, and [Page] am called by the name of Albayzar.

The Emperor arose immediatly and imbraced him, saying: I would gladly see you in my Court, in another estate then you are at this present, but loue shall now excuse your enterprise. And then he commaunded, a Chamber should be prouided for him, but he made refusall thereof, because he had sworne not to depart the field, till he saw the issue of his hauty desire.

The Empresse and Gridonia sent vnto him, desiring that he would suffer them to view the Shields of Targiana and Mira­garda: whereon they entred into iudgment, that although Tar­giana was very faire, yet was she nothing comparable to the Princesse Miragarda. With seuerall suppose they went from hand to hand, till at last they came to the Princesse Polinarda, who was somewhat offended, to see the princesse Miragarda so singular and faire: which made her now to wish, that the noble Palmerin of England would now arriue at the Court, for shée perswaded her selfe, that his worthinesse would aduance her to the glory of the Shields. So that sometime she was minded to send for him, but then by and by she altred her thought: so that she ministred occasion, to some disdainfull minde of that noble Sex, how no stability or constancy, is to be found in a woman.

Then was the picture of Altea brought, which for a precious Iewel, supplied a roome in the Empresse coffer: and comparing her with the faire Miragarda, she was found to differ very far in beautie. Albayzar receiuing his Shields, departed to the place appointed for the Turnament, where the Emperour had commaunded two Tents to be erected: and on a Pillar neare adioyning, was placed the faire Portrayt of the Princesse Tar­giana, and Miragarda was set at her féete, in signe of being van­quished. And because it was as then somwhat late, the knights had not the oportunitie to trie themselues that night, wherfore they referred their determination till the next morning.

CHAP. LXXXIII.
What happened to Albayzar, at his first running at the Tilt.

ON the morrow, the Knights preaced apace to the Ioust, when striuing who should bee first, caused a murmure to arise amongst them: wherefore the Emperour comman­ded the Iudges of the field, that no one shuld approach the Tilt, but first to be permitted by their appointment. Then was Crispian of Macedon allowed the first Ioust, but Albayzar would not receiue him, because he brought not in his Shield the Portrayt of his Lady, according to the order appointed: in like case all the other Knights had failed in that point, wherfore the Ioust was staied for foure daies, in which time, euery one had his Lady to be artificially figured.

On the fifth day, Emerald the Faire, who was reputed in the Court, for a good and hardie Knight, presented the Regardants a Shield, wherein was pictured the faire Artezaura, and hauing done his duty to the Courtly Attendants, hee ran against Al­bayzar, who met with such puissance, that he sent him headlong to the ground. Then Escarol entred the Field, presenting his Shield, wherein was engraued his Lady, and Artinella bianca written vnder her: whose ill fortune was such, that he was sent to kéepe the Prince Emeralde company, and their Shields pla­ced vnder the faire Targiana.

The next were Altaris and Rugeralde, both of them the ser­uants to Belliana, daughter to the Duke of Constance, each of them beating her Picture in his Shield: whom Albayzar ser­ued euen as he had done the other. Wherfore the emperor com­manded the Iust to cease for that day: greatly estéeming yt noble valour that he had séene accomplished by the Prince Albayxar. [Page] The Emperor came to the Iusting place the second day, a great deale sooner, and the Ladies hied to the windows, to sée which of their seruants should accomplish the best endeuour, but Albay­zar was on horseback, attending him that shuld first come, who was Sir Badiart the Knight to Lucenda, but the slendernes of her beauty, and simplenesse of her Knight, made his Shielde be placed amongst the other. After him came Ricardoze, for his faire Adoreta, Argolant, friend to Poliphia, Archanero of Sclauonia, the knight of the faire Iuliana, Leonardin & Baruo­lant, French knights, and both affectionat to the Princesse Ar­nalte, Alisban, the seruant of Armenia, and diuers others that I will not name, to auoide prolixitie, but Albayzar still remained victor, to the little content of the Emperour, who saw his Knights so foiled, as also the noble Primaleon, who determined if he remained stil conquerour, to enter the combat against him. Oftentimes would Albayzar frequent the Image of his Lady, with his Amorous discourses, being so blinded in Loue, that the picture of Miragarda, whom euery one commended, he supposed inequall to his Lady Targiana. The Retrait sounded, euery one retyred, & the Emperour after supper, required the Prince Al­bayzar to the dancing, where the vanquished knights durst not shew themselues, because they were ashamed to come before their Ladies. The dancing done, euery one betooke themselues to their Chamber, & the Prince Albayzar departed to his Tent, enioying very litte rest, because of the desire he had to bee at his pastime. In the morning, Albayzar was very earely in the Field, rehearsing diuers purposes before his Lady Targiana, no lesse proud and stately, then like the franticke fittes of a Lo­uers inuention. And while he stood musing to his Lady, the Iudges of the Field caused a Trée to be placed by the Pillar, to hand the Shield vpon that Albayzar won, and on the toppe they set the Shields of the Princesse Miragada, in token that it had béen attained in Combate, whereas the other was but the figure of his owne amorous loue. Then entered the Field Bellizar, the Sonne of the Prince Belcar, very brauely Ar­med, before him was carried the Picture of his Lady, the faire Dionisia, Daughter to the king of Sparta, & in his owne Shield [Page] he bare for his deuise, a Scithian Artcher with his bow and qui­uer of Arrowes. But albeit he was a strong and hardy Knight, at the secōd méeting he was dismounted, & Albayzar forced out of one of his Stirrops, which he recouered againe quickly.

After Bellizart, came Don Rosuel his brother, presenting his Shield, bearing the Portraite of Dramaciana, the handmayde to the Princesse Polinarda, but he was likewise dismounted at the second Iust. Whereat the Emperour was greatly grie­ued, and sory that he had granted the field to the Prince Albay­zar, for the Knights of the Court were almost dishartened, be­cause the two noble Brethren was ouercome so soone, and their Shieldes placed among the vanquished Knights.

CHAP. LXXXIIII.
What happened on the sixt day of the Iust.

ALbayzar stayed very long the sixt day, be­fore any came to present themselues at the Tilt, wherefore the Emperour went to the chamber of the Princesse Gridonia, where he leaned in the window, beholding Albay­zar to sit in the gate of his Tent, vsing ma­ny amorous cogitations to the Picture of Targiana, as cōcerning the trauailes he had attempted, onely for her loue and fauour. But while he was bu­sying his eyes and mind on this beautiful prospect, a knight en­tred the fielde armed in blacke, whereon was dispearsed little flames of fire, bearing in his Shielde the like shew, which hée presented to the Iudges, and couched his Lance to doe his duty. But Albayzar séeing he wanted the Image of his Lady, refu­sed to enter the Iust with him, which the knight séeing to be de­nied for so small a matter, came to Albayzar with these words.

[Page] Sir knight, you aske much of him, who wanteth to answere that which you séeme to craue, for if the shield I haue presented lacke that you would haue, and I as much wish, it is onely to cōtinue it in resemblance to him, that hath borne it many a day with grief, but neuer a houre of ioy or gladnes. Yet haue I séene the time, I could haue presented you a picture which could haue enforced you to a great maruaile, & my selfe very little to estéeme of your might, but so vnhappily hath Fortune frowued, and my present hope sequestred from any good hap, that I can presēt you with nothing, but this dolefull apparance, which in midst of my misfortunes, I beare with an afflicted mind, the onely image of him, that sometime hath had, and yet in time may, a ioyful coun­tenance of his Lady and Mistresse, desiring you to excuse me, for this is the best auailes, that Fortune hath left me.

Sir Knight (answered Albayzar) I willingly would, that the picture wherwith you threaten me, were at this present in your gouernment, for then would I make you knowe, that I beare another, whereto all Ladies liuing ought, and must giue place. Neuerthelesse, séeing the Emperour hath stayed so long in regarding your honest spéeches, and the extremitie of griefe which you haue reported, constraineth me to breake my pro­mise, I francke and fréely permit you the Iust. Then couch­ing their Speares, they passed the first course very gallantly, but at the second, the Knight was sent to the earth with his héeles vpward, & Albayzar so greatly terrified with the stroke, that he lost both his Stirrops, and was constrained to hold by the mane of his Horse, or else himselfe had borne him compa­ny. But when he perceiued the Knight ready to charge him with his Swoord, hee leaped from his Horse, aduancing his Shield to beare of the hardy blowes of the Knight, so that be­twéene them beganne such a dangerous Combate, that the re­gardants hardly knewe, to whome to impute the most ad­uantage. But Albayzar, to whom Fortune had béene al­wayes friendly, suffered him to charge the Knight with such mightie blowes, that by litle and litle he perceiued him to faint, wherefore at last, scant able to hold out any longer, he retired himselfe, entring into this discourse.

[Page] I know right wel, that weapons were inuented to maintain honour, as also to discharge any perillous aduenture, wherefore, it had beed much better for me, to haue past my life without frequenting them, then to abide the mischance wherein I re­maine at this present. Alas poore wretch, I thinke to vanquish Fortune, but in the ende I finde my selfe vanquished, I knew well enough, that he which kéepeth himselfe from falling in her snares, hath little cause to doubte any peruerse or frowarde chance, but fonde soole that I am to complaine in this manner, being the Author of mine euill, and wilfully séeke mine owne dammage. Whereupon he valiantly assaulted Albayzar a­gaine, who in short time subdued him, and laid him at his foote: and being vnarmed, was found to be Floraman the Prince of Sardignia, which made the Emperour somewhat offended, fea­ring that Albayzar would vanquish all the Knightes of his Court. Then was Floraman carried into the Pallace, the La­dies greatly lamenting for him, because of his inuiolate & faith­full constancy, but albeit Albayzar remained victor, he was ve­rie sore hurt, and brought into great weakenesse and danger.

CHAP. LXXXV.
How after Albayzar was healed of his wounds, he returned to the field, and continuing the Ioust, vanquished diuers Knightes.

FLoraman remained sore hurt for the space of two monthes, onely through the griefe he sustained for his mishap, which was a cause, that the medicines presented to him were bestowed al in uaine: wherefore the Empe­rour accompanied him diuers times, because his behauiour was so vertuous and honest, it made euery one desirous to beare him company.

[Page] But all the honourable visitations, & friendly good well bestow­ed vpon him, had not power to appease his extreame griefe, for that he rather desired the death then any other comfort, so that no sollace was so swéete to him, as the remembrance and often desiring of death. When time had brought him to his former strong estate, the Emperour desired him not to leaue the Court, to whose will he would not shew himselfe disobedient, but stai­ed there for Palmerin of England, and the renowned Florendos thinking Albayzar not able to resist against them.

But Albayzar in his pride thought the contrary, for not con­tenting himselfe with his victories paste, he was no sooner in disposition to beare Armour, but he presented himselfe againe in the Field, perswading himselfe to be Lord ouer all those, that durst conceiue the courage to deale with him. For such is the nature of a proud and arrogant minde, that spéeding a while well to his content, he thinking alway to remaine in that good Fortune, but we hauing an ancient Prouerbe. Desire hath no rest, till it lie in the dust. In this prodigall opinion, he put on a singular faire Armour, not regarding the mishap that might chaunce vnto him, because Fortune as now, had placed him on the top of her whéele, whereon to wise man will repose a seat of assurance, for that her variable and mutable condition, doth al­waies bring her most fauoured to greatest misery. The first day after his health, in the morning he Iusted with Flauian, Rotan­dor, Ariagnonel, Claribal of Hungaria, Ar [...]ruando and Tragan­dor, who were all foiled, and the shieldes of their Ladies placed among the conquered. After dinner, he ran with Luyman of Burgondie, for his Lady Altuena: Dridan the secret friend of Princesse Polinarda, Dramian, for his faire Florian, Gracian, for his faire Claritia, Francian, for his Bernarda, Berolde, for his Onis [...]alda, Blandidon, Pompides, and Platir, with diuers o­ther, against whom he preuailed to his great honour and praise, and the aduancement of the faire Targiana, hauing all the ho­nour giuen to her Shield, which was so honourably placed in the middest of all the other, that the Grecian knights séeing the hauty valure of Albayzar, quite forgot all the courage they would vse in such an honourable attempt.

[Page] Primaleon armed himselfe diuers times, desirous to chastise the pride of the Prince Albayzar, but the Emperour would not suffer him to procéede, because he bare great affection to the Sol­dane Olorieque, which he would not séeme to change to his va­liant Sonne.

Albayzar soiournied very long in Constantinople, without finding any to Iust withall, wherefore heperswaded himselfe, to attaine as great credit by not finding any to deale with him, as he did in vanquishing those that came to the Tournament. But Palmerin, Florendos, and the Giant Dramusiand, would not haue staied so long from thence, if it had not béen for diuers aduentures, which constrained their determination, so that their absence was the cause Albaizar was so much estéemed, and in euery Princes Court, nothing at this present was talked of, but the expert valiantnesse of this noble Moore Albayzar. Whom the history willeth vs to leaue a while, because we haue forgot the Prince Florian too long.

CHAP. LXXXVI.
What happened to Don Florian of the Desart, remaining in the Court of the great Turke.

LOng time soiourned Don Florian in the great Turkes Court, highly estéemed among the hardy Knights, and most honoured and beloued of the Princesse Targiana, whose a­morous company made him forget his mar­tiall enterprises, in so much, as hee wholly shaped himselfe to please her fantasie.

Their loue tooke such déepe perswasiō on either part, y Florian burst his lance in y face of Venus, & Targiana yéelded her chiefest [Page] Iewell, vnder the obeysance and conquest of Cupid, being both of such an indifferent opinion together, that Loue was the only Mistresse of all their actions.

During the time that Florian remained in this state, and Tar­giana busied her mind on their wonted amorous deuises, report blazed the great victories of Albayzar in the Turks court, which newes were accounted of so great estimation, that the behaui­our of the Prince Florian was almost forgotten, a thing which was very vnwelcome to him. Wherefore, one night talking with the Princesse Targiana, shee began to recount the dutie, wherein the déedes of Albayzar had bound her by courtesie, and how she could hardly fulfill the promise, shée made him at his departure. On the other side, she thought that Fortune would allure Florian to some dangerous enterprise, and then should she abide in sorrow, thinking on the hard mishap, that might estrange the remainder of her daies.

Florian perceiuing the cause of her heauines, and yet dissem­bling as though he knew it not, thought now time to play his part, whereupon he began to her in this manner. My good Lady, if in your opinion, the déedes of Albayzar are of such account, that in thinking on them, you forget mine, you offer me an vn­gentle reward of great discourtesie, séeing I receiue no other content, but onely in your company. And hee maintaining the honour of your beauty, against which I know none is able to contend, I know assuredly if the taske were mine, I should make both men and monsters offer you reuerence. As for the victories Albayzar hath attained, they ought of right to bee gi­uen to you, séeing the noble are vanquished by your beautie, ra­ther then by the courage and sworde of Albayzar, to whom you attribute so large commendation. But would you grant mée leaue to go & séeke him, and to fight vnder the soueraigne fauour of your name, you should then sée to which of vs you are most bound, who should best deserue to be admitted in your seruice.

Targiana standing still aprettie while, at last she tooke Flo­rian by the hand, and began in this order. I desired (worthie sir) one thing long since, and now I am of the opinion, that my desire will enforce me to accomplish the same, wherein your [Page] request may be satisfied, and mine own will sufficiently conten­ted, and thus it is. I meane in the habite of a trauailing gentle­woman, accompanied with your selfe, two Damosels, & foure Esquires, to iourney from hence, to the Court of the Emperour Palmerin: and the better to winne my Fathers consent in this case, I will desire of him, that I may visste mine Aunt the Quéene of Assyria, which request I know he will not deny me, so that by this meane I shall haue opportunitie, to procéede in this, to content both your and mine owne desire. But first I meane to send a messenger to the Prince Albayzar, that he shal not depart from Constantinople, till such time as he haue fur­ther tidings from me, through which meane, we shall be in the more assurance to finde him, at such time as we arriue at Con­stantinople, assuring my selfe, that he which hath so great desire to pleasure me, shall not refuse to grant so small a request.

Florian, who alwayes desired to escape the handes of these Infidels, and séeing the time to present him with a fit occasion, began greatly to commend the enterprise of Targiana, saying to her, that she ought presently to put her deuise in execution, else, her desire might happen to catch a suddaine death. Because it is the natural property of some women to thinke a thing spée­dily, and to forget it presently, yet often times they are hasty to such things, as in the end proue hurtfull to themselues: for ex­ample let suffice the Princesse Targiana.

Who on the next morning, came into the chamber of her fa­ther, and therewith teares (which is great pitie to sée in a wo­man) she began to rehearse, how she had beene aduertised, that the Quéene of Assyria, her Aunt, by misaduenture was fallē in­to a suddaine sicknesse, for which cause she humbly desired him, that he would permit her the leaue to goe and visite her. The great Turke, who had not other ioy, then his faire Daughter Targiana, as loath to displease her, granted her request: but hee could perswade her to take no other company, thē the two Da­mosels, the foure Esquires, and Florian, who was vsually cal­led in the Court, the Christian knight. They departed on their iourney, very brauely and gallantly appointed, arriued in short time within y Dominion of Constantinople, where riding tho­row [Page] a pleasant valley thicke beset with Trées, the Princesse de­sired to stay a while, till the heat of the day were somewhat pas­sed. Not long had they rested them, but they espied foure knights come riding towards them, who séeing the Princesse Targiana, and being lately come from Constantinople, wher they had bin vanquished by Albayzar, in whose Shield was her picture so naturally drawn, that the knights haue bin ouermuch blind if they had mistaken her: wherefore knowing, and perswading themselues it was she, one of them offred her these salutations. Faire Lady, we estéeme it as lawfull and honourable, that they to whom your beauty hath bene a cause of great losse and dam­mage, should haue the aduantage in recompence of their mis­happe, to bring you to their Ladies, before whom your selfe may manifest, the great difference that is betwéen you in beau­tie.

Florian arose vp in an anger, and gaue them this answere: Gentlemen, if you be well, follow your way, if you haue recei­ued any mischance, impute it to your folly, and not any occasion procéeding by your Ladies: as for this Lady, shee is not so fond as to goe with you, nor I so foolish as to accomplish your will in such a vaine request. You answere so brauely (sayde) one of the Knights) that now we are fully determined she shall goe with vs: and if you séeme, or dare offer to offend her, we shall quickly coole your courage, because you are disposed so suddenly to chafe.

Then Florian mounted on horsbacke presently, and came vn­to thē with these spéeches. Now am I determined, to try if your worthines will proue according to your words, you may come to me one after another, or all foure at once and if you please: for disloyalty can neuer shew it selfe, but where it is continually re­sident. Tush (said one of the knights) do not hold such a proude opinion with your selfe, for one of vs alone will find you worke enough and that is my selfe, who will be so bold as to stay your hastinesse: as for my followes, I iudge they would thinke it dis­honour to them, if they should deale with such a one as you. Flo­rian not able to abide these words, ran with such courage against this craking cōpanion, y his speare passing cleane thorow him, [Page] he threw him dead to the ground: then the other comming vio­lently vpon him, he serued them in such sort, that two more of them were slaine, the other was glad to saue his life by flight. Florian being discharged of these foure knights, alighted from his Horse, and came before his lady Targiana: who was so wel contented with the victory of her knight, as she would haue béen displeased, if Fortune had alotted him the contrary. And in this pleasure, séeing the night approch so fast vpon them, shee com­manded the Esquires, to plate their thrée Tentes in the bottom of the Valley, neere to a gréene bancke, whereby there ran a pleasant little Brooke: thinkiug to finde more pleasure, then to remaine all night by the dead Knights. In quiet rest they pas­sed there the night, because the tediousnesse of their iourney, did gladly wish them to enioy some ease.

CHAP. LXXXII.
Of that which happened to Don Florian, departing out of the Valley, where he vanquished the foure Knights.

WHen the cleare morning had awaked, the Princesse Targiana and her company, they packed vp their prouision, and de­parted on their iourney, greatly desiring to be in the Court of the Emperour Palme­rin. In the afternoone they came into a good­ly forrest, where stood an excellent faire foū ­taine very ingeniously framed, & it was reported, that the Em­peror Marcellus (who in his time, was curious to cause rare edi­fices and braue inuentions to be framed) had erected this faire fountain in the forrest. Which séemed to be true for two causes: [Page] the first, that this Emperor was very much affectioned to haue his dwelling in a solitary place, néere to some pleasant spring, or some such faire and costly Fountaine: and the second, because the name of Marcellus was in many places about the Foun­taine, néere whereunto was two Knights, who suffered their Stéeds to receiue the water.

Targiana seeing such a singular prospect, in a place so conueni­ent for repose, desired the Prince Florian to pause there a while, whereto he presently agréed: when the Princesse taking off her Maske, the two Knights, who very well regarded her, af­firmed that it was shee, for whom Albayzar maintained his valiant Iouste. Wherefore, they consented betweene them­selues, to take her with them to their Ladies, through whom their shame might be the better couered, which they had attai­ned, by receiuing the infortunate foile in the Iust: so putting their Helmets on their heades, they approched néerer to the Princesse, when one of them began as thus. Madam, you ought not to wish ill to chose, who receiuing a sharpe repulse by your beautie, conceiue the courage of minde to séeke a remedie: for you shall vnderstand, that a Knight hath vanquished vs at Con­stantinople, who maintaining the excellent state of your beauty, hath woon the shields whereon were figured our Ladies, and hath honoured you, with placing them at your féet. Wherefore to let our fault passe with the more méeke penance, it behoueth you to depart with vs: so shall our offence be the lesse esteemed of those, that both may and must command vs.

Me thinketh sir (quoth Florian) that you should not blame the innocent, but the little defence in your selues to keepe your Shieldes, without further presuming on Fortune, who may happen to prouide you a farre worsse inconuenience. I perceiue then (said the Knight againe) that this Ladies beautie, causeth you to vse your tearmes so bluntly, which I doubt you are not able to maintaine, albeit you may make good account of your manhood.

That shall you trie sir (quoth Florian,) and so closing his Helmet, he charged them in such order, as thy were both asha­med (against the dutie of Knighthoode) to assaile him, whose [Page] stoutnesse still detained Targiana, with the death of one of thē, which the other séeing, fell on his knees before the Princesse with these words. Madame I desire you to appease your anger with the death of my fellow, and the grieuous woundes that I ha [...]d receiued, and let mercy pleade my cause, though I be vn­worthy, yet thinke I, that my life would but little pleasure you.

Targiana beholding his repentance, desired Florian that hée would forgiue him: who presently granted, commanding him that the dead body should bo caried away, whereto the Knight not daring to gainsay, willed his esquire, to lay him ouerthwart before him vpon his Horse, and so they departed together, the Knight more grieued with himselfe, then he was before he had séene Targiana. Who walking on with Florian said, that shee thought there was no place of assurance in all the Countrey. Trust me, said Florian, I neuer before sawe it in this order, but yet it ought not to be maruailed at, for one the one side the shield of Albayzar, & the other side your beauty, causeth these aduen­tures to happen as they do. For those that haue bin vanquished, gaining the sight of your excellent feature, cannot chuse but threaten themselues with greater danger, for Nature framed you onely, to bring all those to extremity, that dare conceiue the hardinesse to behold you. Targiana séeing Florian so déepe in his praises of her, stayed him with a Conge ouer the lippes, and séeing a very faire Trée not farre from them, she tooke him by the hand, saying. Let vs goe walke a while vnder yonder faire [...], for my minde assureth me, that things will happen more strange, then any we haue yet séene. Madame (quoth Florian) I would wish to come where is the greatest danger, that you might know how little I estéeme [...]neritie, being accompanied with her, who is the onely shield of my safety. And if Albayzar hauing but your picture, ouercōmeth the most puissant knights in the world, what might I do, hauing the séemely persō? which maketh me to desire, that Fortune would send a hazard, aboue all other, then should you see the forceable magnanimity of your beauty engraned in this heart of mine, with such a hauty dispo­sition, that death, no, nor a thousand deaths is able to withstād [Page] him, who preferreth the title of your excellencie▪ as the chiefest honour vpon my Knightly Sword.

These two Louers thus walking & talking, found the words of the Princesse Targiana to be true indéede, for at the foote of this Trée, they espied a goodly knight laid along, & no company with him, for his Esquire was accompanied to depart frō him, that his Maister might the better report the amorous cōplaints which were alwayes resident in his pensiue minde, and this knight had one very faire blew Armour, his helmet seruing vn­der his head the office of a Pillow, where he lay without recei­uing any rest, but gaue forth sighes & complaints in very dole­full manner. Which Targiana & Florian desirous to heare, and loath to disturbe him being so seriously busied, withdrew them­selues a litle so closely as they could, when the knight, not thin­king any to be so neare him, began to vnfold his griefe after this order.

My Lady, how haue I béene offensiue to you, that you should offer me so great vngentlenesse? leauing me aliue to wish daily for death, and yet you are so obstinate, that you will not suffer me die, onely that I might passe my time, in vnestimable opini­on of endles torments. And to my greater griefe, I often wish to prolong my life in doing you seruice, wherto you vse such vn­friendly meanes, that you will not permit me to be imployed therein, but as the onely Authour of mine euill, and daily occa­sion of my mercilesse Passions, forget the extremitie I abide for your loue, and in a neuer dying death, compell me to wast [...] course of my life. Which trust me serueth very strange, for that I neuer saw affliction in any man, but there was some meane whereby to tollerate it, as for mine, it kéepeth at one certaine stay, and when it commeth to the best change, it falleth from an Ague Quartaine, to a Quotidian, as if all mishap were onely meant to me. Other men sustaine their griefe in hope of a short ende, but my Fortune is such, that mine extreames will neuer take ende, which vrgeth me to this beliefe, that you triumph to sée me tormented, and iudge me vnworthy to liue in your seruice, in which vexation, I content my selfe so well as I may.

[Page] But me thinks you should remember, that rigour is not to be showne to him, who hath not deserued it: which hauing con­sidered as you ought, you shall find, that you haue giuen too rash a recompence to him that hath deserued a better reward, & that your vngentlenes hath bin more, then either custome can bold you, or curtesie beare you in. And thus he ended her complaint with such a grieuous sigh, as though hee had fetchht h [...]s latter gaspe. Florian attached with griefe, to heare the heauy tale of this distressed knight, tooke his Lady Targiana by the hand to returne: but the Knight hearing the noyse, which the Silke ap­parell of the Princesse made in the Bushes, started vp, and put­ting his Helmet on his head, came to the Prince Florian with these words.

Abide Sir Knight, and because against another time, you shall learne more manners and discretion, defend your selfe, for I trust you shall report my Prowesse, where you take occasion to rehearse my complaints. Séeing Sir (quoth Florian) you are so minded, it were folly for me to offer any excuse, and therefore procéede in your determination. So drawing their Swordes, they beganne a very braue fight, charging one another in such dangerous manner, that Targiana commended this exployt a­boue all that she had séene before. While they were thus ani­mated against one another, a Knight in gréene and white Ar­mour chanced to arriue there: in his Shield hée bare for his deuise a Speare, which was pierced in many places, with blowes that he had receiued he had two Esquires attending on him, and was desirous to knowe the cause, why these two Knightes endured the Combate so cruelly. Wherefore, hée came to the Princesse Targiana, to knowe of her: but when he had beheld her a while, he quite forgat what he should demand: and because he was one of the knights that Albayzar had van­quished, he had knowledge of her presently, wherfore, he set her vp behind one of his Esquires, and riding away with her, gaue her these spéeches. Faire Lady, séeing these Knight are not able to beare you company, I know none so worthy as my selfe to kéepe you, for through you. I shall recompence all the disho­nour I haue gotten.

[Page] Targiana séeing, that neither her faire intreaty, nor resistance by her small strength could pacifie him, & that Florian maintained the Combate so fiercely, he could not heare her cry, beganne in this order to perswade him. I know not, Sir Knight, how you dare presume to make entrāce vpon an others possession, seeing that although you haue the power to carrie me away with you, yet my good will and affection, shall alway be estranged to you. And séeing there is no remedie, I pray you suffer me to goe on foote to yonder Fountaine, where abide mine attendance, who shall goe with me: assuring you, that they haue no weapons, wherewith to assist against you, or defend me. I am content (said the Knight) to satisfie your desire, as he that most desireth to honor you in seruice: so they walked downe to the fountaine, where at this time we minde to leaue them.

Don Florian and the Knight were so earnest in their enter­prise, that they neuer perceiued when Targiana was carried a­way: but if they had seene her they were brought to such weak­nesse that they could not haue rescued her. In which dangerous estate, Fortune was so friendly vnto them, that Dramusiande (trauailing toward Constantinople, to recouer the shield of the faire Miragarda) arriued there: where seeing the extremitie that these two Knights were in, and knowing by the Armes the Knight of the Dragon, as also beholding another Knight to endure the Combate so well, he was greatly abashed, and fea­ring to lose the man he most loued, he gaue his horse the spurs, and ran betwéene them with these words.

Gentlemen, I desire you at my request to ende your debate, for that your weaknesse rather requireth rest, then to continue your discord in so extreame danger: at least▪ Sir Palmerin (speaking to the Knight of the Dragon) you should not refuse to grant my desire, for in so doing, this other knight I hope shall haue occasion to thanke me. When Florian heard the name of Palmerin, he conceiued such griefe, that throwing his sword from him, he fell to the ground in manner as he had béene dead: wherefore Palmerin, séeing so great debilitie in him, that he had found so vertuous and valiant, commaunded Siluian to vnlose his Helmet, that he might receiue the ayre. But when hee [Page] knew that it was Florian of the Desart his brother, he was rea­die to fall to the ground himselfe, had not Dramusiande vsed dili­gence to stay him. Florian rising, and séeing his brother Palme­rin so ill intreated, began to him in these words. How might I recompence the great offence I haue committed, that forgetful­nesse should so much gouerne my sences, as not to know the hardy blowes of my noble Lord? My noble brother (answered Palmerin) seeme not on your part to take any thing amisse that hath happened, but rather let vs bethinke with our selues, how­to requite the courtesie we haue found in our deere triend Dra­musiande.

Florian contented himselfe with his Brothers answere, but when his Esquire had giuen him to vnderstand▪ how a Knight had carried away his Lady Targiana, he was ouercharged with grie [...]e beyond all measure, and in this great heauinesse, he deter­mined to make pursuite after him. But Palmerin would not agree thereto: and moreouer Dramusiande shewed him the dan­ger wherein he was at that present, making him faithfull pro­mise, that so soone as his wounds were brought into better e­state himselfe would vndertake the trauaile, as earnestly as hée did the Shield of Miragarda. Yet for all this, the griefe of the Prince Florian was so great, that neither counsell nor friendly intreatie could perswade him. But Dramusiande hauing ac­complished the meane, to set both the Princes on Horsebacke, departed with them from out the forrest, when Florian casting his eye towards the Fouutaine, and thinking on her he had lost by such misfortune, the teares standing in his eyes, he began as thus.

Thou Valley, whose ent [...]ance séemed so pleasant to mee, I know that the issue will value my mishap too deare: for neuer will I cease to trauaile, and yeeld my life among all mischan­ces, till I haue found the swéete content I haue lost, which by no meane I know I can euer forget. When they departed the Forrest, they came to a Monastery, where their wounds were cured with great facilitie: and Dramusiande so soone as hee had brought them to the place, went backe to the Valley, purposing to fulfill that he had promised to Florian. And here the Hystory [Page] leaueth these thrée Knightes: returned to him that had carried Targiana away, perswading himself in her company, to attaine the title of immortall praise.

CHAP. LXXXVIII.
Here shal be rehearsed, who the knight was that carried Tar­giana away, and what happened to him in her company.

REmembrance is made in the History, how the King of Denmarke had thrée Sonnes, al of them prooued to bee noble and valiant knights, especially the eldest, who was called Albanis of Freze, so renowned thorow his fathers Kingdom, that there was no knight durst encounter with him. He being come to the age of fiue and twenty yeeres, and hearing the braue report of the Princesse Miragarda, he became so affectionat to her, that leauing his Fathers Court, he trauailed to the Castle of Alma­rol, accomplishing many notable déeds by the way, and arriued there at such time, as Albayzar had carried the shield thence.

When he saw he could not attaine his will to enter the com­bat he staied till fortune would suffer him to sée the princesse Mi­ragarda, at whose view hee became so seuerely vanquished, that he vowed if it were possible to bring her sheeld againe, and if Fortune did stand his friend so much, he purposed to make her greatly beholding to him: but she was of such a strange con­dition, as I haue told you, that shee reioyced to receiue euerie one, without making shew of their welcome. Albanis pre­uailing in diuers aduentures, came to the Cittie of Constanti­nople, where séeing the number of shields this valiant Moore [Page] had woon, and the great renowne was held euery where of his valour, he purposed to manifest his courage against him. But albeit his worthinesse was very great, and that he brake thrée Speares on the valiant Albayzar, yet was Fortune so much against him, that he receiued the foyle, & his Shield was placed among the conquered Knights. Being departed from thence, out of opinion euer after to serue Miragarda, hee arriued in the valley where Florian and Palmerin fought: where beholding Targiana, he estéemed her the fairest Creature that euer he had séene, and knew it was shée, on whose behalfe Albayzar sped so happily. Wherevpon, he concluded to bring her with him to Constantinople, to trie if Fortune would fauour him better a­gainst Albayzar, hauing in his presence the faire Targiana, to whom he offered great honour and curtesie, which was not of power, to altar the faithful affection she bare to the Prince Flo­rian.

Wel, on they rid, and drawing néere to Constantinople, in an euening they met a Knight in blacke Armour, riding very sad and heauily, to whom Albanis gaue spéech of friendly saluta­tion: but the Blacke Knieht rid on without making any an­swer, whereat Albanis was somewhat displeased, and desirous to shew some courage before Targiana, he turned to the Blacke Knight in this manner. Sir, albeit my words are so little estée­med of you, that you haue made no shewe of a courteous an­swere, yet doe I thinke it had béene your dutie, to offer some friendly motion to this Lady: wherto the Blacke Knight made this reply.

Good Sir, if I haue béene obliuious of my selfe towards this Lady, I am ready to recompence the same in what she shall commaund: but if you séeme so discourteous in spéech, because I haue not saluted you, trust me you are very farre from reason, for my minde was so busied with other affaires, that I neither saw you before me, much lesse did I heare you. I would faine knowe, sayde Albanis, from whence ariseth the cause of your doubt, to sée if it be sufficient, to excuse your vnciuill behaui­our. Syr (quoth the Blacke Knight) I would wish you to kéepe on in your iourney, for to tel the cause of my griefe to you, [Page] would gladly pleasure me, and but little profit you. Albanis be­ing desirous to know what he had demanded▪ was so impor­tune on the Blacke Knight, that he tooke the Field at his plea­sure, and encountred Albanis with such force, that the horse fell downe with his shoulder broken, and before Albanis could re­couer himselfe, the Blacke Knight alighted, and forced him to a­bide his mercy, which done▪ he was riding away, but Targiana came and stayed him thus.

Sir Knight, I desire you, euen as you make hazard of your person in many dangers and magnanimitie doeth accompany you against all aduersity, that you will not abandon those who liue in affliction, but beare the gentlenes of mind to keepe them c [...]mpany. And if so be you trauaile to the Emperours Court, suffer me to be a partner in your iourney, for that my businesse lyeth in that place, to expect a Knight▪ who conducted me in my trauailes hither. Lady (answered the Blacke Knight) I thought this knight had vndertook to conduct you, but now per­ceiuing the contrary, and that you are minded to goe thither, where of force I must be: I will pleasure you in so small a re­quest, albeit the extremitie of my li [...]e stood thereon.

And thus they departed together, leauing Albanis more sor­rowfull then euer he had bin. The Blacke Knight by the way, requested of her, wherfore the Knight had enforced her to goe with him, to whō Targiana ript vp the whole matter, wherefore the Blacke knight gaue her greater honor, then he had done be­fore, for he knew it was she, in whose cause Albayzar kept the Shield of Miragarda, which made him somewhat to excuse the déede of Albayzar, for that the beauty of Targiana, would haue vrged any Knight to aduenture the hardiest exployt.

They arriued at Constantinople, whē Albeyzar was appoin­ted to depart from thence, and to carrie the Shields away with him, because none durst aduenture to recouer thē, which made the Emperor greatly agrieued, estéeming this y greatest shame that euer happened in any Princes Court. On the other side, Primaleon was so chafed, because his Father would not grant him to Combate with Albayzar, that he was minded to stay his comming foure miles without the Citie, and to beare in [Page] his Shielde the Image of Gridonia, which he had secretly cau­sed to be made, to sée if he might vanquish Albayzar, and bring backe the Shields to the ladies that had lost them. But For­tune so hindred him, that his purpose tooke not effect: and also would not suffer Albayzar to depart thence with so great glo­rie.

CHAP. LXXXIX.
How the Blacke Knight entred the Combat with Albayzar.

THe Blacke Knight lodged that night with­out the City, in the house of an ancient Gen­tleman, because he would not be knowne, and the next morning, Targiana attyred her selfe very sumptuously, in a Gowne of the Turkish fashion, of Crimson Sattin, ador­ned with braue bi [...]laments of gold and pre­cious stones, and mounted on a Palfray as white as a Swan, her Damosels and Esquires likewise very braue in apparrell, and attēding on her in seemely order, in this maner she came in­to y city, accompanied with the Black Knight, & arriued at the Iusting place, whē Albayzar had euen then conquered an Eng­lish knight, and placed his shield among the other. The Empe­rour with all his Courtly company, behelding the braue gesture of the Blacke Knight, with the noble company he brought with him, had good opinion that he should end the Iust: which made the Ladies and the knights, to throng to the best places of sight, because now they looked for some notable exploit: but that which caused the greatest amazement, was the beauty of the Princesse Tagiana, with the rich and sumptuous shew of her apparrell, which made the people run on heāpes, with very great murmu­ring: whereat Albayzar somewhat abashed, cast his head aside, [Page] and séeing his Lady Targiana, he could hardly sustaine himselfe from falling to the ground. The Blacke Knight staide a good while beholding the shields Albayzar had conquered: but when he saw the portrait of the faire Miragarda, the teares ran down his chéekes, and he began in this manner.

Madame, how is it possible, that the thing wherein Nature hath showne all her skill to make it surpassing faire, should bee in the power of him, that might be glad to be vanquished by you? for my selfe, I would triumph to be found so Fortunate at this present, because I desire to die to maintaine the truth, and I hope to discouer the deceit of Albayzar, in such sort, that his re­compence shall returne what he hath iustly deserued. Albayzar greatly reioyced to sée his Lady Targiana, for whose loue she had attained such estimation of honour, wherby he had so farre ouer­shot himselfe in his prodigall pleasure, that he stood in a maze, whether it was she or no. The Black Knight hauing ended his complaint, and séeing Albayzar so farre distracted, put himselfe a little néerer, and awaked him with these wordes. Albayzar, whereon doest thou vse thy mind so mutely? I aduertise thee, that the Princesse in my company is called Targiana, the daugh­ter of the great Turke, who hath taken the pains to come hither to sée thy valour, which is so much blazed & commended through the world. Albayzar at these words alighted from his horse, and hauing taken off his helmet, he came and kissed the hand of Tar­giana, with this manner of salutation. Madame, I know not how I may requite my selfe to you, hauing honored me so high­ly aboue my desert. Targiana receiued him very gratiously, gi­uing him hearty thanks for his noble seruice, whereof she made such estimation, that Florians deeds were presently forgotten, yea, and so farre bannished out of memorie, as though she had neuer séene him in all her life, manifesting rightly the inconstan­cie of such as regard their seruants, according as they are rai­sed in authoritie. Albayzar hauing done his duty to the Prin­cesse Targiana, mounted on horsebacke, and began thus to the Blacke Knight. Sir Knight, I would faine know, what moued you to bring my Lady hither, as also if you haue desire to enter the Iust, for vpon the presenting your shield, you shal be receiued.

[Page] Sir (quoth the Blacke Knight) after the strife is concluded be­twéene vs, she shall discourse the certaintie thereof her selfe. But as concerning the shield, which you say I must present, to be allowed the Iouste, I am at this time vnprouided thereof, because thou hast disloyally stolne it, which else I might haue worne here to honour my Lady. Wherefore I haue thus deter­mined by my puissance, to cause thee confesse the same, before this honourable assembly: and if Fortune fauoureth thee so much, as to suffer me be vanquiwed at thy hands, faile not to reuenge thy self on me, as on the greatest enemy that euer thou haddest: but if I vanquish thée, I desire no greater victorie, in recompence of the trayterous wrong thou hast offered me, then to carry backe the Shielde of my Lady Miragarda, to the place where it hath alway been accustomed to remaine. I am con­tent (answered Albayzar) that if Fortune permit thée conque­rour ouer me, thou enioy all these Shields she hath suffered mée to vanquish, and that thou bring me to the Castle of Miragarda where she shall ordaine for my life as pleaseth her: and the like shall my Lady Targiana deale with thée, if mine accustomed good happē returne me the Victorie. Syr (quoth the Blacke Knight) my will is thereto as ready as thine: albeit thou shalt finde no more friendship at my hands, then I will offer to my greatest enemie.

The Emperor with all the company, were suddenly strooken into a great maruaile, when they had heard the wordes of the Blacke Knight, especially Primaleon, who desired greatly to haue knowledge of him, whereupon, the Iudges commanded them the Field, and Targiana entred with them, according as Albayzar requested.

The Trumpets sounded, and the Knights mette so couragi­ously with each other, that Albayzar was thrown to the groūd his héeles vpward, and the Black Knight was dismounted with the Saddle betwéene his legges, because the girtes of his horse were broken, or else he had kept on horseback still, which made the Emperour to iudge, that Albayzar should not depart with such honour as hee thought for. When they had drawne their Swordes, they laid at each other in such terrible manner, [Page] that Albayzar thought he had neuer met with a strōger knight and the Blacke Knight very well estéemed the strength of Al­bayzar: so that the generall verdict was, neuer had been séene a more hauty combat. For Albayzar was encouraged by his La­dy Targiana, & the Blacke Knight so animated with the picture of Miragarda, that betwéene them was declared the deedes of incredible prowesse.

At last, Albayzar séeing his Armour so bedewed with his blood, and himselfe brought into such extremitie, hee retyred to take breath, and began thus to complaine. What do the noble victories which I haue attained against many noble mindes, preuaile me now in any thing? seeing that at this instant, I must lose all the glorie I haue gotten. Oh my Lady Targiana, if I haue had the power to vanquish the best Knights in all the world in your absence, why suffer you one Knight to preuaile so much against me in your presence? to loose my former honor, is more deere to me then life, which falling out so contrary as it doth, maketh me to thinke, that you are more affectionate to some other then you are to me, which is the onely cause the vic­torie will not fall on my side. But yet▪ what Princesse is there in all the world, more braue in bountie, beyond you in beautie, or better deserueth the title aboue all titles then you? truely, I may lose the victorie of this Combat, through defect of my weaknesse, but not by any fault that is in your excellency, wher­to the fairest aliue may not seeme to aspi [...]e.

The Blacke Knight on the other side, séeing his dangerous estate, and that he could not assure himselfe any good successe, si­lently to the picture of Miragarda, he entred into these speeches. Madame, seeing it hath pleased you, to vse me in affaires that haue greatly touched me, I desire you not to forsake me in this enterprise, which is wholly yours, wherein, though Alba [...]zar hath vanquished many Knightes to his honour, and praise of Targiana, who excelleth all these figured Ladies in beauty, yet shew you your selfe excelling all other in that singular gift, to ouercome him that hath conquered so many. For I perswade my selfe, you wil not fauor him that hath done you such wrong, as disloyally to beare the Shield from your Castle: but let me [Page] that am your true and faithfull seruant, giue you the honour of this hautie attempt, and afterward deale with this cursed car­kase of mine, euen as it shal stand with your gratious pleasure. After this they fell to to the combate a fresh, when the Emperor séeing the small defence they had for themselues, supposed they could not long continue the fight, and Primaleon through opi­nion which came by nature, in griefe of mind receiued perfectly the cruell wounds of the Blacke knight, as though he had felt them vpon his owne body, because he supposed him to be of his linage. And by the cruell behauiour they vsed to ech other, the Empres & Gridonia departed, as not able to abide the grieuous sight of these two champions, who after they had griped one an other by the closing their arms, Albayzar, [...]s too weake to resist any longer, fell to the ground, whereat the Blacke knight reioy­ced and vnclosed his helmet to haue smiten off his head, but the Emperour called to him to vse more mercy, yet he makking as though he heard not, lifted vp his sword, when the Princesse Targiana fell before him on her knées, with these spéeches. Syr Knight, first I desire you to strike off my head, and afterward proceed in what shall please you, for loth would I be to see him die that hath ventured his life in danger, to do me such honou­rable seruice. The Blacke Knight seeing the modestie of the Princesse, was moued with pittie, wherewith he granted Al­bayzar his li [...]e, and then the iudges came into the field to haue the Blacke Knight honoured, according as became a victorious conquerour. But he would not depart out of the Field before the Portrait of the faire Miragarda was placed in the middest, where, against all reason, the Princesse Targiana supplied the roome, whom he led with him, to be honoured according as her hie estate did deserue. The Emperour commaunded Albayzar should be led into his Tent, meane whiles the Blacke knight kissing his highnesse hand, vpon his knee began in this manner. Most dread and mighty Emperour, I desire that this Princes may be regarded aboue all in your Court, for you ought to shew more honor to her, then to any other person that I know. Whē the Emperour knew that the Blacke knight was his noble ne­phew Florendos, his heart was supprised with an vnspeakable [Page] ioy: and chiefely his Father the Prince Primaleon, who caused Albayzar to be brought into the Palace, & vnderstanding that Targiana was the daughter of the great Turke, lodged her with the faire Princesse Polinarda his daughter, who greatly desired it at the hands of the Emperour, and there was we as honora­bly serued, as had she béene in the Court of the great Turke her Father the Prince Florendos and Albayzar, had great care vsed to their dangerous wounds: and the shield of the Princesse Miragarda, was now held in chiefest estimation.

CHAP. XC.
How a Damosell of Thrace brought a strange aduenture to the Court of the Emperour Palmerin.

WHile Florendos and Albayzar remained at the cure of their wounds, the Empresse and Gridonia, as glad that the victory chanced to Florendos would often come and visit him, reporting their iudgements on the singular forme of Miragarda, which talke partly wrought as much for his health, as the medicines that were appli­ed to his wounds. Likewise, the Emperour and Primaleon, would often visite Albayzar, vsing comfortable speeches, wher­by he might forget the griefe he sustained, because he was van­quished: but Albayzar dissembled with a good countenance, de­uised with himselfe how he might worke iniury to Florendos, which afterward he did, as you shall perceiue at large in the se­cond volume of this Historie. In the meane while, the Court of the Emperour, was stored with the most renowned knights, and Ladies of incomparable state of beautie in all the world: so that there wanted no other thing there, thē the two renowned Knights of England, whose presence in the Court, made the Emperor to thinke, y then no force might preuaile against him. [Page] While they were in their triumphing, the Empresse, Gridonia, Targiana and Polinarda, sitting vnder the Cipresse Trées néere a very faire Fountaine, a Lady of a maruellous and mighty stature presented her selfe before them, whose séemly iestures and sumptuous shew in apparell, made them beléeue shee was of great authoritie. Her attyre was of Sattin, cut and laide out with cloath of siluer, a purple Robe compassing her bodie, wheron was placed a number of rich and costly precious stones, her long sleeues hanging down [...], were thicke beset with Birds, Harts, and other braue deuises of Foules and Beasts of gold, that the eie could neuer be wearied, beholding a thing of such in­estimable value: there attended on her two Knights, the one hauing in his armes a very faire coffer, which was closed with little Lockes of Gold, and brauely garnished with Pearles and precious stones of maruellous cost and reputation.

When the Emperour and all were placed, to regard the cause of her arriuall, she receiued the Coffer of the Knight, and with a little Key of Gold that hung about her necke, she opened it: whereout she tooke a curious and costly Cup, which was so arti­ficialle composed, that beholding the outside, might easily be dis­cerned what was within, which was nothing but water, so hard congealed and frozen, that it was impossible to moue any moity thereof. After she had held it a while in her hand, she deliuered the Coffer againe to the Knight, whereon she set the Cup, and looking wishly vpon all the company, at last she began to vtter these speeches.

Most noble Emperour, I haue been in so many Princes Courts, to make triall of the strange aduenture contained in this Cuppe, that, not finding any to ende the same, I am wea­rie to seeke auy further, as also out of opinion of any good hap. Except that now in your Highnesse Court, which is most ho­noured and esteemed vpon the whole earth, I may find such ex­pected Fortune, as of long time I haue failed in, which doth en­courage me somewhat, considering there is not the like. But first before the triall be attempted, I will discourse the cause of this rare aduenture, because each one of these noble gentlemen, may be the better affectioned to her, who holdeth his heart as [Page] chiefe Mistresse of his thoughts. There was sometime ruling in Thrace, a king who was name Sardamant, so excellent well séene in the Art of Magique, that for the qualitie of that gift, he surpassed all other liuing in his time. This King had a daughter, of no lesse beauty then Courtly behauiour, who was greatly be­loued of two knights, the one called Brandimar, the other Arti­bel, but they kept close their secreat loue from each other, til for­tune, the enemy to their good hap, discouered their good liking to the displeas [...]re of both. It chanced that this Princesse, being na­med Brandisia, esteemed chiefly the seruice of Artibel, which her Father misdoubting, kept her close in a Tower: but Loue had woon such a perfection betwéen them, that Artibel accomplished a deuise without suspition, as oftentimes to visite & sollace with his faire Brandisia, for by a Ladder of Ropes, he climed so often to the window of the Princesse, that time conuerted the issue of their delights, to vna bellae figliola. Brandimar passing oftentimes by the tower of Brandisia, desirous to sée his delight, which these walles enclosed, one night by chance, saw when Artibel came downe by his accustomed Ladder of ropes, which made him so offended, that forgetting the league of amity between thē, he set vpon him, where with their cloaks wrapped about their armes, and their rapie [...]s drawn, after a few words, they fel to strokes, which by fortune the king heard, and comming thither with his gard, he found Brandimar almost slaine. Whereupon Artibell was committed to prison, and Brandimar hauing declared all to the King, shortly after yeelded his life. The king knowing that his daughter was conceiued with child, kept Artibell in prison till time of her deliuerance, vpon which day hee caused him to be beheaded, and in this Cup, he sent her the hart of her beloued Artibell. The Princesse perceiuing the cruell reuenge of her fa­ther, and desirous to accompany her déere friend in death, tooke the Cup, and making a thousand complaints ouer the heart of Artibel, she continued mourning so long, till she had filled this Cup with her teares. Afterward thinking this not sufficient, to manifest the faithful loue she bare to the knight, she tooke the Cup and sent it to her Father, vttering to the Messenger these speeches. Tell my Father, that it may be, he hath sent mee this [Page] true and faithfull token, of my most affectionate & loyall friend, only that I should shew in the massaring of mine owne life, my hart was iointly vnited, with this harmelesse heart of my deare Artibell, whom since I loued in life, I wil not forsake in death, neither for my Fathers rigor to him, and cruelty to me, but will honour his death with losse of my life, my Father being the Au­thor of all this euill. So taking out the heart, and the messenger departed with the Cup, she tricked her selfe in her brauest appa­rel, & putting the heart of her friend Artibel between her brests, with these words. Oh Artibel, receiue thine own Brandisia, she cast her self headlong out of the chamber window, where death tooke his due of this faithfull and constant Princesse. The king sorrowfull for his Daughters death, solemnized her Funerals with great honour and dignity, and taking the Child, whom he hath named Leonarda, he put her in the self same tower, accom­ [...]anied with Ladies & gentlewomen, where she was nourished for the space of foure yeeres. At the end wherof, he made an En­chantment halfe a mile from his place in a Valley, wherein he likewise Enchaunted the yong princesse Leonarda, which En­chantment he had vsed in such order, that none might sée her, nor yet come neare vnto her, for a far off might be discerned a good­ly Fortresse, but when any endeuoured to come neare it, it va­nished away, & nothing could be séene. When he had so done, he tooke this Cup, wherein he had congealed & frozen the teares, vsing his Art so vpon them, that he hath brought them into this ougly blacknesse which you now behold. And at the houre of his death (seeing his kingdome should remaine destitute of an heire to succéed him) he commanded this Cup should be carried into all Princesse Courts in the world, to passe the hands of many noble Knights, vntill the teares came to the first estate and con­dition. So should the knight be found, that surpasseth al other in worthinesse and constancy of Loue, as also that is able to expell and end the enchauntment of the princesse Leonarda, who ioy­ning mariage with her, shall gouerne the scepter and Diademe of Thrace. But if so be, the Knight▪ who hath the power to ac­complish this aduenture, shall haue vowed his faith to some o­ther, so that the princesse cannot marry with him, the comman­dement [Page] of the king is such, that the Princesse Leonarda, shall ioyne in Mariage with him, that this aforesayde Knight shall command.

Aud one thing more you shall vnderstand, that if any knight may equal himselfe in faith and loyalty, with him that hath the power to molifie these teares, the aduenture is such, as they wil turne to their former obscure estate againe, but if such a one come, as may not in that excellent gift be comparable to the Knight, then is there nothing can cause them to to change their colour. So that if any knight aduance himselfe to this cup, and is not a faithfull and constant Louer, the teares shall remaine as darke as you sée them at this present. Likewise, after the En­chantment shalbe fully finished, that the Lady and the Knight, may beheld themselues in the teares, they shall sée the perfect forme of those persons, who are their dearest friends, and their greatest enemies. And if any will knowe those that are least in fauour, vpon the taking of this Cup, they shall féele a sauour so strong, that they shall hardly be able to endure it, and to the con­trary, he that is more beloued then his fellow, by higher degrée in affection, shall cause a greater brightnesse to be in the Cuppe. Wherefore most redoubted Emperour, I desire you that your Knights may try this aduenture, and your selfe to giue the first attempt, because you may the better declare the loue you beare to your gratious Lady the Empresse.

Lady (quoth the Emperor) you desire me to fall into trouble­some extreames, by desiring me to aduenture so great a matter. Neuertheles, I will once hazard vpon Fortune, to please them that cannot finish this hard accident, albeit I thinke my selfe not able to do it. For the like matter haue I enterprised, trying my selfe with the Glasse of the King Tarnaes, being the like ad­uenture as this, and ended by the vertuous and noble Prince Don Edward, and [...]s I thinke not to end this, so shall the Em­presse excuse me, considering my ancient time. Then arose a great noyse among the Knightes, who desired to try the Cup, beause their Ladies should bee the better assured of their con­stant Loue.

CHAP. XCI.
Of those that came to try the aduenture of the Cuppe, and of that which happened vnto them.

GReat affection had the Emperour, to shewe somewhat his constant loyaltie in the ad­uenture of his Cup: wherefore receiuing it at the hands of the Damosel, he turned him toward the Empresse, and said. Trust mée Madame, if it be true, that faithful loue may conuert these teares, then I perswade my selfe to haue some title in it. So holding the Cuppe a great while, and perceiuing that it changed not the colour, he began to be somewhat offended with himselfe: wherefore the Damo­sell receiued it againe of him, and to mooue him from sadnesse, gaue him these spéeches. My gratious Lord, I sée that age hath decayed the force of your affection: but had this aduenture béene deliuered you when time was, I know it could not haue remained thus at this present. Primaleon presently came and tooke the Cuppe, but his Fortune was no more fauoured, then the Emperor his Father: which vrged him to some cause of an­ger, fearing that Gridonia would haue giuen him but slender thankes. Then came the Prince Vernar, and in his hand the Cup receiued a little brightnesse: whereby the Ladies knewe, that the Damosell had reported nothing but the trueth. After Vernar, came the King Polendos, and in his hand the Cup be­came as blacke againe as euer it was: whereat the Ladies be­gan to laugh, and the Damosell of Thrace spake to him in this order. Syr Polendos, if the loue you beare your Lady, be of no more effect then it séemeth at this present, I iudge she hath cause to be but little beholding to you. Gentlewoman, answered Po­lendos, it is so long time since amorous thoughts haue let me, that it is no maruaile, if Fortune séeme so aduerse to me now. [Page] Then arose the prince Gratian, thinking to end the aduenture, by the faithfull loue he bare to his faire Claritia, and in his hand the Cup receiued more brightnes then it did when the Prince Vernar had it, whereat his heart was rauished with vnspeake­able ioy, and giuing the Cup to his brother Guerin, it became as blacke againe as euer it was. The ladies greatly delighted to sée the variable quality contained in the cup: so that they had an assured meane, to sée which of their knights might excel in loyal­tie of loue. Berolde P. of Spaine, the onely beloued of the faire Onistalda, aduanced himselfe to take the cup, vsing this silent opinion to himselfe. Madame, I haue euer desired your helpe in all mine affaires, but at this present I craue no succour at your hands, for that the merit of my constancy, promiseth me a large title in this honourable aduenture. Then taking the cup, it see­med brighter then euer it had béene, and the frozen teares began somewhat to melt, which mooued the Princesse Onestalda to so great pleasure, that she could not conceale it, but the Ladies sit­ting by did perceiue it. After him came the P. Platir, the knight of Fidelia, daughter to the king Tarnaes: but albeit he bare her great good will, the Cup was not so bright in the hands of Be­rolde, but while he held it, it became as black. Then came Belli­zart, seruant to the faire Denisia, & Dramian the knight of Flo­rian: but both of them sped alike in their enterprise. Francian, who loued the faire Bernard, tooke his turne next to trie the Cup, but he sped so ill, that he wisht himselfe out of the place: for in his hand the cup lost all the brightnes, that the other knights had brought it into, whereat he was greatly agrieued, and the Emperor laughing a good at him, began merrily in these words. Sir Francian, you may cōmend your fortune to be in such liber­tie, for the Ladies will not receiue any hastie occasion, whereby they may thinke good to fal in loue with you, and you may shape your selfe of like disposition, at no time to be hastie in trusting them. After him came Frisol, Onestalde, Estrellant, Tenebrant Luyman of Burgondy, Pompides, Bla didon, Germaine of Orleance, Dridan, Polinarde, Tremoran, Baromont, & Alba­nis of Freeze: amongst which company, the best fauoured were Polinarde, Beromont, and Germaine of Orleance, yet none of [Page] them might be compared to the Prince Berolde. The Damosel of Thrace was in great despaire, thinking the aduenture would not be ended in the Emperours Court, when presently came the sorrowfull prince Floraman, & at the Emperors request he tooke the cap, saying: My Lady, remember the danger wherin you sée me, as also the griefe I sustaine for your sake: wherout you may deliuer me if you please, & set me once againe in my ioyfull state. When he had ended his spéeches, the Cup receiued such a mar­uellous brightnesse, & the congealed teares melted so suddenly, that the whole assembly, thought the aduenture to be fully fini­shed: but the Damosell knowing the contrary, went to the Em­perour, who, in her presence, spake thus to the Prince of Sar­dignia. I know well Sir Floraman, that this aduenture was reserued for you, because the firmenesse of your faith, gaue mée a great deale more assurance, then the experience I haue to report this enterprise: and trust me I am very glad it is so fallen out, because now, all other will hold you in the estimation, that my selfe of long time reposed in you. The ladies, who euer bare good affectiō to Floramá, were now a great deal more vrged towards him: which y damosell perceiuing, & that euery one supposed the aduenture to be ended, to the Emperor she began in this maner. My gratious Lord, I desire you that all y knights may abide in this place, for albeit the cup is brought into this good effect, yet is not y brought to passe which must be finished. I know said Flo­raman, that fortune is wont to cause me begin euery enterprise with ioy, but at the conclusion thereof, she threatneth my death. Then Don Rosuel & diuers knights assaied the Cup, some spée­ding well, & some ill, euē as their constancy did differ in quality. At last, whē the whole cōpany were minded to retire for y time, they espied a knight in gréene Armour, to present himself before him, whose stoutnes of behauior caused al to feare that tooke oc­casion to behold him, there was none y knew him but Primaleō who presently said, that it was the giant Dramusiand, wherfore he desired the Emperor to stay a while, when aduancing himself to méet him, Dramusiand came & imbraced him with very great reuerence. When he had opened his helmet, Primaleon brought him before the Emperor: where humbly vpon his knée, he began [Page] in this maner. I desire you my gratious Lord and Father, that you wil receiue this knight with your accustomed honor, for that his valiant and noble behauior, hath made him as much renow­ned as any on the earth. The Emperour knowing that it was Dramusiande, would not suffer him to kisse his hand, but imbra­cing him in his armes, began as followeth. Albeit your friendly dealing, did long time detaine my life in an vnexpected danger, yet the good report of your Prowesse, and noble behauiour since that time, hath vrged mee to forget all, vowing my selfe your friend to command, and so I pray you for euer to vse me. Dra­musiande very often thanked the Emperor, and Primaleon pre­sented him to the Empresse and Gridonia, who albeit they made a shew of a friendly welcome, yet could they not do it har­tily, considering the griefe they sustained for the imprisonment of Primaleon. For they say, it is the nature of women, not to for­get and forgiue their iniuries, but to séeke reuengement, when they are thought to be out of all remembrance. The Emperour tooke Dramusiande by the hand, and reported to him, how they were gathered together, to sée who could finish the aduenture of the Cup, wherfore he desired him to make trial therof, to sée if he were so happy as to end it. I shal (quoth Dramusiand) do what pleaseth your Grace to command mee, and if Fortune stand so much my friend, that I may preuaile aboue al in this enterprise, I shall manifest the soueraigne duty, wherein loue hath bound me: but if I faile therin, I shal haue the lesse cause of maruell, be­cause it is not the first time that fortune hath forgotten me. So receiuing the cup of the damosel, it became almost as cléere, as it did in the hand of the Prince Florian, whose hap was as yet sup­posed for the most perfect, and then the Emperour commended Dramusiande, to think that a person so strong and valiant, shuld haue such faithfull countenance and honour in loue. The day was so far spent, that they al returned to the Pallace, the Empe­rour desiring the damosel not to depart as yet, because he would haue Albaizar and Florendos, should make their trial likewise, for he verily thought, that one of them should haue the power to ende it. The Damosell promised to accomplish his pleasure, wherefore she walked with them, and made her abiding in the Emperours Pallace.

CHAP. XCII.
How Florendos and Albayzar proued the Aduenture of the Cup, and how Palmerin and Florian arriued at the Court.

DRamusiande (as the History reporteth) ha­uing left Palmerin and Florian, to followe the Princesse Targiana, was aduertised, that the Knight that carried her away, had béene conquered by one, who conducted her with him to Constantinople, aud that it was the Prince Florendos, who likewise had conquered the valiant Albayzar: whereat hee was some­what displeased, because he thought none so woorthie to restore her shield, as himselfe, seeing it was taken thence, at the time when he kept it. Yet séeing that Florendos had gotten the ad­uantage hée dissembled his griefe in the best manner he could: and tooke leaue of the Damosell (who reported al this vnto him and stayed not till he came to Constantinople, as I haue decla­red already: where, a while I will craue pardon to leaue him. Palmerin of England, and the Prince Florian of the Desart his Brother, stayed twenty two dayes in the Monastery, where the Giant Dramusiande left them: and when they were very well healed, and appointed with new Armour, which Siluian had caused to made for them, they departed thence, greatly thanking the Religious, for the good diligence they had vsed to them, in their weakenesse. When they were neare to Con­stantinople, because they supposed it was not time as yet to en­ter the Citie, they alighted from their horses, to contemplate of diuers accidents that happened in their minds. Elorian, in whō the passions of Loue could take no certaine place, but dissem­bling euery thing to content his fancy, layde him downe vn­der a Trée, to muse on the aduentures, which Fortune should permit him to enterprise: and Palmerin with many along looke [Page] towards the Citie, recounted the great fauour he found in the Emperors Court, as also his gentle departure from the Prin­cesse Polinarda: so that he was determined not to enter the Ci­tie at all, had not Siluian vsed his perswasions to the contrary.

When they had vsed their conceits about such matters as li­ked them best, they mounted on horsebacke, & rode toward the Court: where they arriued, at such time as the Emperour was risen from dinner, and the Empresse with her Ladies come in­to the great Hall, to sée a farther triall of the Cup, by the Prince Florendos and Albayzar, who though they were not perfectly healed, came foorth of their Chambers, to manifest the constant loue that they alwayes conceiued in their loyall hearts.

Palmerin & Florian went vp into the great Hall, leauing Sil­uian at the Court gate, least perhaps they should be knowne: and when they were come before the Emperor, Albayzar, who lay vpon a cloth of blacke Veluet, beholding the beautie of the Princesse Targiana, arose, & tooke the Cup in his hand, when it became as cleare as when the prince Floraman held it, whereat Targiana receiued gread pleasure, but Albayzar was not satis­fied, because he saw the aduenture was not concluded.

Palmerin (who because he would not be knowen, bare a Dra­gon for his deuise in his Shield) and his Brother Florian stan­ding with him, séeing the Cup that was so blacke, changed into such brightnesse in the hand of Albayzar, began to conceiue a great occasion of maruaile, desirous to knowe how the chance had happened.

The Emperor very often beholding them, and iudging that they were persons of some great authority, cōmanded that they should be placed by him, where he began to discourse at large of the cup, desirous to know likewise of whēce they were, but they excused themselues so honourably, that the Emperor held him­selfe cōtented. While these two English princes held talke with the Emperor, the Prince Florendos, who was leaning on the lap of his sister the Princesse Polinarda, arose, & musing on the beauty of Miragarda, he began in his mind to vse these spéeches madame, now would I, that you might sée the triall of my troth, which might moue you hereafter to vse me, according as you [Page] proue me loyall in truth. So taking the Cup of the Damosell, it receiued a farre more brightnesse then euer it had before, and the teares were brought into such estate, as though they had not béen frozen at all: whereat the Emperour and Primaleon were very ioyfull to sée such a perfect proofe of Amitie in the Prince Florendos, which made them to request of the Damosell, if the aduenture were as yet ended.

Most noble Emperor (quoth she) the Cup & teares are trans­formed to the greatest perfection that any yet could bring them: but command them to come néere, who haue not as yet made a­ny proofe at all, and then if the Cup receiue no change, estéeme this Knight the most constant & faithfullest Louer in the world. But if so be the Cup do alter againe, beleeue assuredly, that that Knight shall excéede him, either in knightly déeds of Armes, or else in the Amorous constancy of a Louer.

The Emperour seeing that al his knights had assaied the cup, he desired the Knight of the Dragon & his fellow to make triall also: but Palmerin was so busie in beholding his faire Polinarda, that he heard not the Emperors words, wherfore Florian, who was frée from a Louers passions, albeit he could dissemble with Ladies indifferently, aduanced himselfe with these wordes to his Lady Targiana. My Lady, I defi [...]e your assistance in pas­sing this danger, and to forsake me in all other, onely let me en­ioy this in recompence of my desert: and as for the thing you hold of greater estimation, reserue that for him, to whom you are in greater affection. Now as these words were farre distant from the loyalty of a louer, so did his holding the Cup manifest the same: for while he held it, there is nothing in the world can be iudged more blacke or griesly, then the Cup séemed at that in­stant. Targiana, who knew him, yet would not be known ther­of, for the griefe she conceiued at this accident [...] retired into her Chamber, repenting that euer shee had bestowed her loue on him, who was esteemed of so small fidelity. The Damosell of Thrace, receiuing the Cup againe of Florian, said. Sir Knight, if Fortune spéed you no better in déedes of Armes, then your ac­tions manifest your faithfulnesse in loue, I would [...]ounsell you, neuer hereafter to pursue aduentures.

[Page] Faire Lady (answered Florian) if you recompence your ser­uants according to desert, it would greatly grieue me to fal into so hard destiny, but your farre distance from reason, maketh me to esteeme it the lesse, for if I should passe on farther, and suffer my selfe to be inueigled in your snares, I were the lesse to bee pittied, when I seeme to bewaile the languishing of my life.

This answer of Florian, albeit it séemed acceptable to many of the knights, yet the Ladies receiued it in great contempt: be­cause their naturall quality is such, to yéelde according to the déedes of those, who submit themselues to abide their pleasure: and contrariwise, their naturall inclination is, to vse such re­compence, as their seruice they haue receiued neuer deserued.

The Damosel of Thrace came to the Knight of the Dragon, desiring him to try the Cup, according as diuers other had done before him, perswading him, that of a person so knightly as hée séemed, there was to be expected a very good issue. Palmerin sée­ing the matter brought to this extremity, cast his eye on the Damosell, and his heart on her, whose obstinacy caused him to die with griefe, entring into these spéeches. If this aduenture be of a truth, then I pray you my Lady, henceforth to excuse the fearfulnesse of him, who dares not presume to think what is in your mind. So receiuing the Cup, it contained the same qual­litie, as it did in the hand of the Prince Florendos, because it could not exceede farther.

The Emperour being very glad, tooke the Cup to prooue the rest of the Damosels words, and in the bottome of the teares, he beheld the Empresse as pleasant as euer he had séene her, which made him to thinke the aduenture was ended, but doub­ting the contrary, he requested of the Damosell, if the Cup shuld alway remaine in that state, whereto the Damosell answered thus. It must [...] be tried, if it wil turne againe to the former blacknes, but I desire you that this Knight (meaning the prince Florian) make triall thereof no more, for he hath so little desire, to kéepe his loue faithfull to any Lady, that the Cup in his hand will stand in great danger, at which pretty triump, the Ladyes conceiued good occasion of laughter.

[Page] Then the Emperour commanded, that al the knights should take the Cup againe, but their labour was in vaine, for it neuer séemed to alter the colour, wherefore the Empresse tooke it, and beheld the Emperour so perfectly in it, as if she had verily séene his face. After the Empresse, came Gridonia and Bazilia, wherin they saw them that they chiefly estéemed, but when the Princesse Polinarda took it, she perceiued the noble Palmerin of England in such heauines, that (not able to endure his extreame grieuous countenance) she deliuered the Cup from her, fearing to let it fall, her hand shaked so maruelously. But none knew what was the cause thereof, except the Emperour, whose amo­rous youthfull time gaue him occasion to thinke, that shee had séene some one in the Cup, who greatly desired to doe her seruice which made him to round her in the eare, saying: Faire Daugh­ter, you make mee iudge that you want a seruant. At which words she began so sweetely to blush, that with her rare beauty it gaue her an excellent colour, whereat the Knight of the Dra­gon became more and more afflicted.

The cup passed from hand to hand, till it came againe to the Prince Palmeriu, who beholding in it the swéet face of his faire Polinarda, tooke occasion to speake in this maner to himselfe. My gratious Lady, I very well perceiue by your countenance, that you haue not forgotten him, who was only borne to do you seruice, yet doth the miserie of his time, constraine him to liue without hope, desiring nothing else but to accomplish your plea­sure. Then he deliuered the Cup to his Brother Florian, who beheld in the bottome of the teares, the Princes Araalte of Na­uarre, and the faire Targiana, as also many other Ladies, who were as greatly offended with him, as were these twain whom he had deceiued, wherefore the Damosell taking the Cup from him, said. Doe you now (Sir Knight) behold the issue of your vnfaithfull Loue (whereto he presently shaped this answere. It séemeth that your sex canno hartily fauour the Knights that oweth them most affection, which maketh many not force of their constancy to you, but yet thus much I dare assure you, that Ladies, both haue and shall be a great deale better secured of me, then of diuers that haue tried the aduenture of this Cup, [Page] and to whom it hath showne more fauour then to me.

The damosell making him no answere, turned to the Empe­rour, saying: I desire your highnesse, that n [...]w the proofe may be made, of those that are most and chiefest beloued: wherein (credit me) you will receiue great pleasure. Agréed (quoth the Emperour) and I intend my selfe to mak triall first, for so shal I perceiue, that being but slenderly fauoured of the Empresse, I haue lost the power to end the aduenture. So holding the Cup, it remained in the same order still, without any change or apparance of heate: wherefore the Damosell said. My Lord, you must confesse your selfe, that your time is past, and therefore deliuer the Cup to the Empresse, who hath so truly and faith­fully loued you.

In the Empresse hand it continued to still, wherfore Prima­leon and the King Polendos, who being faithfully beloued of their Ladies, made the cup still to containe the chiefe brightnes. After these two Princes, Don Rosuell aduanced himselfe to make triall at his Loue, which was so little, that the heate the Cup contained, vrged him to deliuer it to the Prince Platir, who found it not altogether so hot, as when Don Rosuell had it. It passed the hands of them all, some with good hap, & some with ill, till it came againe to the Prince Florian, but he passed it as lightly as the other, because his heart was exempted frée from any Louers griefe. From him Albayzar tooke it, whom Loue fauored so much, that he held it a great while. Then came the turne of the Knight of the Dragon, whose hap proued worse then all the rest: for the Cup was so enflamed round about him, that it séethed euen as water doth vpon the fire, which caused great feare to all that beh [...]ld it, but more griefe to him that hee had the patience to abide it. For now he verily thought to con­sumate his daies, and that the vexation of his life, should end by this supportable meane, which made him that he would not let go the Cup, but kept it so constantly, that euery one thought there was no remedy but death.

Trust me (said the Damosell) the vnfained loue of so true a knight, deserueth not to be rewarded with so sharp a recōpence: and with these words she offered to take the Cup from him, but [Page] he gaue backe, answering her thus. Faire Ladie, I desire you to suffer me abide the doome, which my mishap hath alway or­deined for me, and wherein I may end the troubles that are in­cident to a mourning and continual dispairing life. The Empe­ror not able to abide so great crueltie executed in his presence, arose & caught the cup from him, which was immediatly quen­ched, as though it had neuer bin so violent, whereat he receiued no small cause of amazemen. Then the prince Florendos, albeit he was weake, yet desirous to be partner in constancy with the Knight of the Dragon, receiued the Cuppe from the hand of the Emperour, when presently the rigour that the Princes Mira­garda vsed towards him, caused him to suffer the selfe same tor­ment, as did the noble Prince Palmerin. For the flame which arose out of the cup, had so inuironed the body of the prince, that he was séene sighing and lamenting in the midst thereof, which mooued all the Ladies to shed aboundance of teares, and to vse many extreame words against the cruelty of Miragarda, which Florendos (though he were in the midst of the flame) could hardly suffer to hear her blamed, for whose sake he was ready to make a sacrifice of himselfe. The Emperor séeing many meanes applied to quench the flame, yet none of them all had the power to preuaile, put himselfe in the midst thereof, and tooke the Cup from Florendos, thinking that then it would presently bequen­ched: but all their labor was to no effect, for the flame continued about him as it did before. The Empresse Gridonia, with al the lad [...]es and knights, fell into such rufull complaints, that it was maruailous to heare the noyse that was made: at which grie­uous spectacle, Polendos the king of Thessalie, came to the Da­mosell of Thrace with these words. I desire you, faire Lady, séeing you haue found the thing you sought for, that you would vouchsafe the courtesie, to succour the dangerous case of the Prince Florendos, I am so agrieued (quoth the damosel) at this great tumult which is made, wherein they wil not vouchsafe to heare me, that I know not what to say: but doe you giue order to appease this murmuring, & I wil work the meane to deliuer the Prince from danger. By the Emperours commaundement the disturbance was quieted: when the Damosell presented her [Page] selfe before the Emperor, saying. I aduertise you most dread and gratious Emperor, that the aduēture of the Cup is already past and finished: but the flame which doth compasse the prince Flo­rendos, can no way be extinguished, but only by the vertue that consisteth in the teares, which by the hand of the Knight, who hath ended the Enchantment of the Cup, must be sprinckled on the flame wherein he is enclosed, and then I dare assure you the prince shall be brought into his former estate. For the fire being ingendred, by such a cruell woman as he loueth, cannot be any way quenched, but onely by the teares of such a pitiful Lady, as was this constant and faithfull Brandisia. Then she deliuered the Cup to the Knight of the Dragon, who put his fingers ther­in, and sprinckled a few of the teares vpon Florendos: when presently the fire vanished away, leauing Florendos (whom all men thought verily to be dead) aliue and in good estate, to the great content of the Emperour and all the company.

CHAP. XCIII.
Of another aduenture that happened in the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, and of that which after followed.

FLorendos, being thus happily deliuered (to the great ioy of the Courtty company,) wished that she, who intreated his faithful Loue with so great cruelty, had béene in place, when she might haue séene the triall of his inuiolate faith. The Emperor being desirous to know the Knight, whose spot­lesse loyaltie had ended this Enchantment (but misdoubting that it was y noble Palmerin of England) desired very earnest­ly, that he would make himselfe knowne vnto him: when Pal­merin putting his hand to his Helmet, to discouer himselfe, he was hindered by the aduenture which hereafter followeth.

[Page] On a sudden there entred the Hal a Lady, accompanied with three mighty and ougly Giants, whose Armour was of on co­lour and fashion, their Helmets being carried after them by thrée men, so that their swart and euill fauoured faces, caused the La­dies to tremble, as also many of the Knightes to change their colour. These proud and stately Giants thronged through the middest of the Knightes, aduancing themselues before the Emperour, without shewing any courtesie or reuerence, where they stayed, for that the Damosell had in charge to declare: who séeing so great Nobilitie about the Emperour, was somewhat offended, yet notwithstanding, she seased her fury, and began in this order.

I perceiue right noble Emperour, that the renowne which is blazed all the world our, of your Princely Court, is too little, respecting the honourable company I see at this present, which vrgeth me to enter into due land therof, as it hath rightly & iust­ly deserueth: so that I am of the opinion, you might subdue & go­uern the whole world, if you would distribute your force, which as I iudge, is no way able to be matched. But yet fortune who in all your affaires hath hitherto prospered you, may now vn­gently (as enuious at your long quiet & peaceable felicity) turne her backe towards you, & so suddenly in her fury ouerturne your good Fortune, that the glory you haue gained in the prime of your yeeres, may now be defaced, when your aged estate forbid­deth you to follow the trauaile of Armes, and your long hap­pinesse, vnwilling to enter the warres, wherewith I come to summon you, from the Soldane of Persia, principal Captaine of the Law of Mahomet, as also from the great Turk, and y noble Gouernours of the Coūtrey belonging to the Soldane of Babi­lon, named Albayzar, who in strange aduentures, hath put himselfe to make triall of his valour, vpon hope of long expected good Fortune. From all these before named, I am to let you vnderstand, that when time was, there were certaine Heathen Princes, here slaine before the walls of Constantinople, whose death hath vrged them to great impatience, and to séeke reuenge for the great wrong you haue offered them. But the Gods, the protectors and defendor of your welfare, fauouring you beyond [Page] their expectation, haue heretofore hindred the determination of these Princes: for when they were prepared to the ruine of your kingdomes, and vtterly to race out your fame & memorie, there hath such quarrels and seditions sprung vp amongst them, that they haue murthered one another, which happening many and sundrie times, hath not suffered them to put their pretence in execution. Wherefore, to auoid any more such mischance, as also to fauour you in the euil which may happen: they haue sent vs to your Highnesse with certaine conditions, the performing whereof, shall end all hatred, and ioyntly ioyne them as your continuall friends.

The first is, that you shall send Polinarda, Daughter to the Prince Primaleon your sonne, to the Soldane of Persia, aged a­bout xxv, yéeres: a Prince as much renowned, as he is puissant and incomparable in riches, to whom shee shall bee espoused as beséemeth such a noble Prince. The second, that Florandos his Sonne, shall promise to marry with Armenia, Daughter to the Soldane before named, who is a Princesse of such singular heauty, that shee is thought to excell all Ladies liuing on the earth. To her Dowrie, the Soldane will giue all the title hée hath in these parts about your Empire, without desiring any o­ther recompence, on the behalfe of the faire Polinarda: but onely that it might stand with your pleasure, to send to the great Turk a Christian Knight, who as I remember is named Florian of the Desart, for that by his deceit, he hath brought his Daughter Tragiana from thence into your Court: whose mariage he hath already prouided, to the Prince Albayzar, now Soldan of Ba­bylon, because the Soldane his Father is lately deceased. Thus haue I reported the whole summe of my Ambassage, attending how your Highnesse shall answere the same: and if you wil not agrée with the Heathen princes, these Giant haue in charge to tell you that, which perhappes may enforce you to a greater maruell.

The Emperour hauing noted the words of the Damosell, smiling thereat, began to say. Truly Lady, I desire to heare what the Giants must report, because perhappes I shall haue a better opinion of their words, then of those which here you haue [Page] spoken. As concerning the amitie which your Princesse request with me, the conditions are lincked to so many contraries, that I rather chuse perpetuall warre, wherein my selfe, my friendes and subiects will more willingly die, then to hold league with them in any such order. And for the Knight whom you request to haue, I am altogether ignorant where he abideth: but if hée were here present in my Court, I would not suffer him to re­ceiue any iniury, and I perswade my selfe, as the Princesse Tar­giana, is rather come hither with her will, then by any compul­sion that hath béene vsed to her. No other answere haue I de­termined to giue you: wherefore, let your knights declare what they haue in commission.

With that, one of the Giants aduanced himselfe before the Emperour, and very vnreuerently entred into these spéeches. The Heathen Princes, whose iust & law full request you thinke scorne to grant: by me doe send defiance to thée, and to all that dare vndertake, by any meane or motion to offer thée succour.

Yea, I pronounce open warre against thée, and on their be­halfe call my gods for my record: that we not onely intend thy death, but all those who dare presume to beare Armour against vs. The places of most renowne in thine Empire, shall be chan­ged to a wast and desolate wildernesse, as thou shalt well per­ceiue, when thou séest thy men to be murdered. thy women cru­elly spoyled, thy Virgines violated, thy Children martired: yea, and the Infant torne from the mothers breast, and gored on the tops of our Lances, in witnesse of our great, grieuous, and vn­speakeable fury.

The Channels of thy stréetes, shall powre foorth the blood of thy murdered subiects, thy Citie which now standeth aboun­ding in wealth, excessiue in pride, and surpassing in prodigality, shall with fire be vtterly consumed, thy whole kingdomes and signories raced and ruinated: so that they which shall escape this bloody tiranny, may sit downe, and sighing say; Here sometime stood the citie of Constantinople, there, and in th [...]se places were sometime faire cities, braue buildings, and incomparable habi­tations for riches and prospect: now are they equalled with the ground, not one stone left on another, in witnes of any ancient [Page] Monument, but bu [...]ned, consumed, and all in generall defaced and spoyled, thy selfe being the onely cause of this cruell and hor­rible iudgement, wherein they will be sufficiently satisfied, of their iniury receiued before this thy citie. Thus haue I mani­fested the charge, which I receiued from the Soldane of Persia, and in refusing pis pr [...]ffer, I say thou shewest not the duty of a Prince: and if thy Knight es dare presume to maintaine the contrarie, my Companions and I will vndertake, to enter the Combate with seuen of the stoutest of them, and will vrge them to confesse the fault thou hast made, or seale the pledge of our endeuour, with deliuering thée theyr heades, in recom­pence of the follie thou hast showen, in refusing to enter leag [...]e with the Soldane of Persia. The Giant here breaking off his spéech, one of the other Giants named Berocant, deliuered the scrole of the def [...]ance to the hand of the Emperour: who séeing the stearne countenances they made, began to smile, and an­swered them thus.

I sée (Gentlemen) such a cholericke humour arise in you, that I stand in doubt to grant what you demand. Beside, I iudge if I should grant to come in league with the Soldane of Persia, that my Néece Polinarda would not consent to goe with you: but as concerning the Combate you haue enterprised against my knights, I would wish you to vse your selues with more dis­cretion, and not to shame your selues vtterly with them, who thinke it shame to enter the fight with you you. While the Em­peror continued these spéeches, the Knight of the Dragon was so incensed with anger, that hee could not content himselfe to rest in any place: wherefore, diuers knights arose, being fully re­solued to accept the challenge, but the Giant Dramusiande hin­deres them all, turning to the Emperour on this wise.

Most high and mightie Emperour, the great benignity and courtesie of Princes, is often an occasion to encourage a wilful offendor: euen so, the lenity of your noble heart, with the grati­ous patience that gouerneth all your actions, hath caused these presumptuous Pagans to conceiue such boldnesse, that they nei­ther respect the place nor the person, the rigour of a Prince, nor the foll [...] of their owne rediculous vsage. [Page] Which to punish according to desert, I, as one at your gratious command, will enter the field with one of them, where I shall giue Berocant to vnderstand, that pride must haue punishment in place of Iustice, And if none of these other knights, will en­ter the fight with the other, my selfe will defie them all, cōming one by one: thus desiring your highnesse not to thinke amisse of me, my hand is ready to performe, which my heart hath suffred me to pronounce.

The knight of the Dragon, & Florain of the Desart, approch­ed presently to Dramusiande, desiring him that he would suffer them to assist him, as defending the challenge of the other two giants. Dramusiande. séeing them so well prouided, would not refuse their knightly offer: whereat Gracian, Berolde, Pompi­des, and Floraman were somewhat offended, because ther was none of them al, but would gladly haue taken part with the Gi­ant Dramusiande. The Giants, named Arbusar, Albaroco, and Berocant, refused the offer which was made them: answe­ring, that if there were no Giants for them to deale withal, they disdained to take armes against men of no more might.

Elorian hearing them speake so arrogantly, in a chafe tooke Arbusar by the arme, saying. Thou counterfeit Monster, s [...]me not to excuse thy selfe so fondly from entring the Combate: for in recompence of thy deserts, I will present the Emperor with thy head from thy shoulders. And to giue thée the better occasi­on to fight, thou shall vnderstand, that I am the Knight, who brought the princesse Targiana into this Countrey: and for this Knight thou séest with me, I knowe his hardinesse will su [...]er him to deale with Albaroco, now refuse the combat i [...] you dare. The Giants hearing him to confesse, that he had brought the Princesse Targiana from her countrey, became so full of choler, that they desired the place might be assigned, where they pre­sently determined to hazard the fight.

The Emperor commanded the place should be showen them, whereabout he caused such good regard to be placed, as in such dangerous affaires he was woont to doe: but it was somewhat displeasant to him, that [...]orian should venture on such ougly follows, & iudging the other knight to be Palmerin of England [Page] he was in great feare, least now he should chance to lose them both. At such time the knights were entring the Field, the Da­mosel of Thrace taking Florian aside, secretly vsed these words vnto him. Sir knight, if Fortune bend her selfe against you, that in this dangerous attempt your strength doe faile you, com­mend your selfe to the clemency of some lady, and doubt you not but to escape the hazard luckily. God forbid, said Florian, that I should trust in them, who haue not the power to helpe them­selues, much lesse can they any way send me succour: or that I should prostrate my selfe to de [...]ice their fauour, whose greatest libertie, is continuall thraldome to an aduenturous minde. With these words, they all mounted on horsebacke, and rode into the field, the Emperour with all the Ladies and Knights, hied themselues to the windowes to sée this hautie exployt: and Albayzar likewise desirous to sée it, came to one of the win­dowes, desiring that the victory might fall to the Giants, as he had good hope, beholding their valiant and noble courage.

CHAP. XCIIII.
What happened in the fight against the Giants.

AFter that the Iudges were placed to dis­cerne the fight, the Trumpets sounded, and they encountred one an other very couragi­ously: euery one dealing so roughly with his enemy, that this was supposed the most dangerous Combate that euer was séene. The Emperor was still affectionate to be­hold the marueilous courage of the Knights of the Dragon, as for Dramusiande and Florian, they behaued themselues with such deliuer behauiour, that Primaleon, Florendos, and all the Knights, gaue great praise to the hautie valour of them all.

[Page] The Empresse & Gridonia departed from the window, greatly pittying the danger on either part: but the Princesse Polinar­da staied to sée the end, accompanied with Targiana, who was as much gréeued to sée the boldnes of Florian, as she was plea­sed in beholding the courage of the giants: by whose helpe she thought to haue reuenged the great inconstancy shee found in the prince Florian. And then he gaue the damosel of Thrace to vnderstand, that it was not for want of strength he preuaild no better in the triall of the cup: for albeit the giant Arbusar, desen­ded himself well, he could not resist against Florian, who saluted him with many mighty and cruel strokes, driuing him into such wearinesse, that he could hardly indure to stand on his féete. At last faintnesse and wearinesse constrained them to retire: when Berocant séeing his fellows so dangerously wounded, began to rage with himselfe in this manner. O gods, is it possible, that the force of Berocant, Arbusar, and Albaroco, so highly estéemd throughout the whole world, should be brought into subiection by one only giant and two knights? why grant you not vs our accustomed strength, but in our greatest néed leaue vs destitute of all succour? How happy might I estéeme my selfe, if I might vanquish him, who sometime conquered Dramusiand, and de­liuered the number of knights he kept as Prisoners? If you will not suffer me to haue aduantage ouer him, then would I, that here were with him foure of the best knights on the earth, so losing my life on them, I might the better broke this my hard fortune. The Knight of the Dragon, had no other recourse for his amorous thoughts, but only to the beautiful face of his La­dy & Mist [...]es, whose vngentle words at his departure from Cō ­stantinople, armd him with greater patience to abide the death if his froward hap should now prouide it for him. As for the prince he had no body to apply his thoughts vnto, but only cō ­mitted himselfe to the gouernment of Fortune, whom he only kept for his Lady and Mistresse. Euery one vsing some pretty fancy to himselfe, during the time they remained breathing, as­salted one another again very valiantly, when the knight of the Dragon hauing brought Albaroco to his foote, to honor his mi­stresse with his conquest: he opened his helmet, and before her [Page] part his head from his shoulders, as glad of the victory, as be­fore he stood in doubt how to obtaine it. Then he aduanced him­self to assist Dramusiand against Berocant, at whom he fierce­ly let fly a st [...]oke, but their often trauersing the ground, caused the blow vnfortunately to fall on Dramusiande, giuing him a greater wound on the shoulder, then any he had receiued at the hands of Berocant: wherfore Dramusiand turned to him with these words. Trust me sir knight, I estéeme the succour you giue me, to be oppression and no friendship, wherefore I pray you suffer me to end this cause my selfe: and if perhaps you sée me vanquished, then put your valour in triall, to kill him who shall remaine victorious ouer me: for the death I rather chuse, then the shame which may fall to me, by this vngentle manner of ayde. The knight of the Dragon hauing thus against his will iniuried his friend Dramusiande, retired greatly displeased with himselfe, and A [...]busar was reduced into such weakenesse that Florian quickly gaue him his paiment, so sore wounded himselfe that the Iudges would haue had him carried out of the field: but he would not consent thereto, before he had séene the issue of the fight, which was so displeasant to Albayzar and Targiana, because the giants were so cruelly vsed, that they went from thence, as not able to suffer such a gréeuous sight.

The Emperor, Primaleon, and the king Polendos, seeing the knight of the Dragon had woūded Dramusiand so sore, greatly doubted lest Berocant should now ouercome him, but suddenly Dramusiand caused them to change their opinion, for he follo­wed his enemy with so great courage, that he forced him to fall downe dead at his féete. Then came the Iudges, and with great honor conducted the thrée Conquerors forth of the field, where the Emperor with his royall traine met them: when Palmerin and Florian hauing opened their helmets, came to the Empe­rour, and with very great reuerence kissed his hand▪ who recey­ued them with maruellous princely courtesie. The Empresse, Gridonia, Bazilia, and Polinarda, attended the comming of the Emperour, because they vnderstood that he brought with him the two English knights: who when they came before them, were receiued according to their knightly bounty.

[Page] When Palmerin came to humble himselfe before the princesse Polinarda, such a sudden feare did ouercharge him, that he could not withhold himselfe from falling to the ground: and the Em­perour supposing, that it was caused through lesse of his blood, commanded Primaleon, Polendos, Vernar and Berolde, to ca­ry him presently into a Chamber, where he was respected with great diligence for his health. Dramusiande and Florian, were likewise honoured with very Princely vsage: the Emperor re­maining as ioyfull for this good hap, as Albayzar was sorrow­full, to sée the thrée Giants spéed so ill.

CHAP. XCV.
What happened in the Court of the Emperour, after the com­bate of the Giants.

CErtaine dayes after this cruel Combat, the prince Florendos seeing Dramnsiande and the English Princes out of any danger, de­termined to restore the Shield of Miragar­da, in the place from whence the Prince Albayzar tooke it, and to present him to her, where he should abide the doome of her iudgement. When he had well prouided himselfe of Armour and other necessaries, he aduanced himselfe before the Emperour and his Father, to desire their sufferance in this attempt: but they were very loath he should goe, least any danger should happen to him by the way, through some treacherous meane deuised by Albayzar, wherfore they gained of him, to stay yet for eight dayes longer. In the meane time, the Emperour had concluded, through aduise of his Councell, to send the Princesse Targiana home againe to her Father, ac­companied with the King Polendes, and diuers other Princes and Knights: but first he would content the desire of her loue, [Page] wherefore with great royalty, he married her to the Prince Al­bayzar, and to honour them the more, he held open Court, and caused many Triumphs and braue deuises to be accomplished, to gratifie these honourable personages.

The Emperour ledde Targiana into the Chappell, where he gaue her to the Prince Albayzar, whose heart greatly reioyced, to receiue the swéete content he had so long desired: but the chie­fest grief that eclipsed his ioy, was because the Prince Floren­dos should present him to the faire Miragarda, which thought, made him not so pleasant with his beloued, as otherwise hee would haue béene.

When time came for their departure, Targiana humbly sub­mitted himselfe to the princesse Gridonia, and all the ladies, but especially to the princesse Polinarda, who had vsed her very gra­ciously, during the time of her abyding there. The Emperour with all his Knights, rode with her two miles from the Citie, committing her to the charge of Polendos, and the other Prin­ces, who could not perswade Florendos, but he would needes present Albayzar at the castle of Almarol, to witnes his vnfai­ned faith to his Lady & Mistresse Miragarda. The Emperor ta­king leaue of Targiana, returned with his traine to the Cittie, endeuouring himselfe to change the mind of Florendos, but all was in vaine, for two dayes after he departed from Constanti­nople, accompanied with Albayzar, whom he would not suffer to weare Armour, but permitted him one of the Esquires be­longing to Targiana, and himselfe tooke twaine, one to car­rie the Shields of Miragarda, which was couered, and the o­ther to carry his owne, thus in their iourney we intend to leaue them.

The Damosel of Thrace, séeing the Prince Palmerin in good disposition of health, in the presence of the Emperour, she spake to him thus. Worthy Sir, I thinke you are sufficiently cer­tified, that I cannot depart from hence without your company, séeing you haue finished that, which of many yeares haue béene thought impossible: wherefore, most humbly I beséech you, that you would imploy your selfe, to ende likewise the miserable e­state, of the distressed and most infortunate princesse of Thrace [Page] whose enchantment can no way be be expelled, but only by you whose renown shall be more then I can speake of, for you that shal ioyne in marriage with her, and so make your selfe king o­uer all Thrace. But if perchance, the desire you haue to follow aduentures, wil not suffer you to ioyn with her in this honou­rable estate, then shall she stand at your appointment to marry with such a one as you shall thinke méetest for her, wherfore I desire you to set a part all excuses, and to enter vpon this iour­ney, so soone as possible you may.

Faire Lady (answered Palmerin) I am so much vsed to tra­uaile, that I know the better how to continue it, and neuer did I refuse to aide any person, whose intent might be no preiu­dice to her, whom I am alwayes bound to obey: and therefore assure your selfe, that so soone as I shall be prouided of Armour, (because Albaroco hath so disappointed me) I will not stay to accomplish your desire. The Damosell was very well plea­sed with this answer of Palmerin, but the Emperor (who wi­shed more good to him, then any other of his Nephews) concei­ued great gréefe to leaue his company so soone▪ wherefore, he went to the chamber of the Empresse, who also was very sorry when she heard these newes.

Likewise the Princes Polinarda hearing that Palmerin should so soone leaue the Court, went to her chamber amated with great griefe, and many passions of the minde: which Dra­maciana perceiuing, & knowing well the cause of her heauines, caine to perswade her in this manner. Faire mistresse I neuer thought that any misfortune could depriue you of discretion, which you haue alwaies vsed: but if your gréefe be grounded on the departure of Palmerin, why do you not consider y his desire is, euer to be where he may behold you [...] & (though in truth) he de­serueth to enioy the most excellent princes on y earth, yet dare I assure you, that your beauty is sufficient, to yéeld the heart of him vnder your obeysance, who onely desireth to be your swéet friend in loue. And without good hope in this desire, I know he could not long enioy his life, but that he perswadeth himself to enioy that gladsom and long expected felicity: wherfore. I desire you, to vse such courteous fauour towards him, as may vrge [Page] him the sooner to returne to the Court.

Folinarda hauing receiued some content by the words of Dramaciana, made her answer in this manner. How can I well brooke the sudden voyage of Palmerin, whom aboue all I loue, and in heart giue most honour? yet will I not make him so priuy to my thoughts, albeit I sustained the hazard of death, because, perhaps the beauty of Leo [...]arna Princesse of Thrace, may alter the affection he hath vowed to me.

I beléeue (quoth Dramaciana) that inconstancy cannot har­bour in the heart of him, who proued himselfe so loyal in the ad­uenture of the cup: but to preuent the worst, if you will vouch­safe me the leaue, I will in priuate talke vse such meanes with him, as I shall quickly sound the depth of his intent. Polinarda estéeming this deui [...]e, returned presently this aunswere. I thinke so well Dramiciana of this pretty inuention, that I am very well content that you procéed therein: but of all Loues I pray you, vse the circumstance of your matter in such sort, that he perceiue nothing therein to be done with my will.

Polinarda thus concluding her speeches, went and sate down by the Princesse Gridonia her mother: mean while, the English Prince remembring his hasty iourney, as also the small kind­nesse he perceiued in his Lady, passed all the day in many silent thoughts. But whe [...] the euening came, he went to the Empres Chamber, where the Knights and Ladies danced: and doing his duty to them all, he came and sate downe by Dramaciana, with whom being very familiar, he entred into these spéeches. Swéet friend, if I either might, or could vtter my complaints to any, by whom I had opinion to receiue redresse, with verie glad consent I would: but séeing my sorrowes grow to a grea­ter extreame, and to none but you I dare bewray them, I will request so much courtesie at your hands, as to resolue me in one or two questions: and thus they are. What is the cause my La­dy Polinarda dealeth so hardly with me, as to driue me to the vtter despaire and contempt of my life? if she thinke me to de­serue no greater fauour, trust me, I may iudge her ouermuch vnkind, for that all my care is, by what meane or motion, to lay my heart at her foote in loyall serucice.

[Page] But she séeth full well my griefe, and couereth her selfe with such a close conceit, that she will not séeme to know it: onely because she is either daintie of her courtesie, or else thinketh scorne to recompence my trauell. I desire you to beare witnesse with my faith, which neither forceth paine, torment, or any mi­serie, so that she would not forget the knight who suffreth al for her sake, and cannot expresse what he would suffer, so that it might but please her to estéeme thereof. And trust me, swéete friend, I neuer in all my life entered so farre in spéech hereof to any person, nor would I haue gone so farre at this present, but that the proofe of your fidelitie, hath constrained me to speake what you haue heard, knowing very well, that with a trustie friend, a secret is buried in the bottome of the sea.

Sir Palmerin (answerd Dramaciana) the long time you haue absented your selfe from hence, hath mooued me to thinke, that your mind was addicted to some other purpose: so that I iudge, you rather complaine for custom then cause, as you are al wont to do, when you hold the fish with the baire, which you greatly [...]are not for, whether you were best to take it, or let it goe. And now I am aduertised, that you go to end the Enchantment of Leonarda, the heire and princes of Thrace, whose loue (I feare me) will cause you forget your old friends, wherefore you may with greater ease beare so small a burthen.

Trust me, answered Palmerin, the beautie of Leonarda, nor all the rich proffers of preferment in the world, shal haue power to alter any qualitie in me, by which I might be iudged, either inconstant of faith, or negligent in promise: for which cause I haue the greater desire to speake with the princesse Polinarda, that she may be assured of the loyaltie, which this poore heart of mine shall continue to her to the death.

Well, quoth she, if your constancie be such as you report, I thinke in so small a matter, it will not be changed. But as for speaking with my Lady, I know at this time it is vnpossible: wherfore, for a further triall of your truth, prepare your selfe to depart with the Damosell of Thrace, and in your absence I wil so manifest your constancie, that at your return you shall speake with her at your pleasure. So that in y mean time you wil pro­mise [Page] me, that no occasion be moued to offend so good a Princes. To these words Palmerin thought to haue made answer, but the Dancing being done, he was hindered of his purpose, so that Dramaciana and he were constrained to part company, he being very glad that he had disclosed part of his griefe, to her that would sollicite his sute in ample manner, and this night he tooke better rest, then he had done since his departure out of England.

The next morning he rose very early, when a faire new ar­mour was presented him, and in his shield he bare a man torne in péeces by a Tiger. Then went he with the Damosel to take leaue of the Emperor, who brought him to the Empresse cham­ber, to whom he humbly did his duty, as also to Gridonia, Ba­zilia, and all the Ladies, but such was his heauy farewell, to the Princesse Polinarda, as al the Ladies present could not refrain from teares. Thu [...] left he the Emperour in great sorrow, Pri­maleon, Dramusiande and his brother Florian, were very sorry to leaue them whom he most loued, but notwithstanding all intreaty, he departed with the Damosell and Siluian towards the kingdome of Thrace.

Soone after, two Allemaigne Ambassadours arriued at the Court, yéelding the seate and gouernment, of the ancient Em­perour Trineus deceassed, to the Prince Vernar his sonne, these newes were great griefe to the Emperour, as also the Prince Vernar who left the Court, accompanied with his Lady Bazi­lia, being great with child, and soone after deliuered of a goodly young Prince named Trineus after his Grandfather.

To accōpany these princes, there went Florian of the desart Floraman, Dramusiand, Albanis of Freece, Gracian, Pōpides and many other, and when they came to the Citie of Cullen, there was the prince Vernar chosen Emperor, with such mag­nificiall Triumphs as neuer were séene the like in the dayes of [...]is Predecessours. Then sent he for his Brother Polinard, to enioy such titles as were fallen vnto him, and Florian, with the other Princes and Knights, stayed a while in the Court of the Emperor Vernar, when soone after they departed to seeke [Page] aduentures, as you shall at large perceiue in the second Volum of this History.

CHAP. XCVI.
Of the daungers which the King Polendos and the Princes passed, conueying the Princesse Targiana by Sea: And what happened to the Prince Florendos, in the Fort of Astribor.

THe King Polendos, & the hundred knights that bare him company, to conduct the prin­cesse Targiana home againe, sayling at their pleasure, Fortune was so aduerse to them, that they tooke the Coast of Africa, where they were assaulted by ten Galleyes, belon­ging to the King of Mamercos, chiefe Go­uernour of Cenia, who as then had all the Countrey vnder his subiection.

The K. Polendos, séeing himselfe on the point of so extreame danger, dealt with them in such braue and forceable manner, that he suncke them all, and tooke their Captaine, who was the Couzin to the Knight of Tunis, not loosing one of his Knights in this noble skirmish. With the glory of this Conquest, he came to the Princesse Targiana, who was glad to sée her selfe deliue­red from so great danger, and honoured in such worthy wise by the King Polendos, who with this noble Prisoner set forward their voyage to Turkie, the winde seruing them so well, that in short time they arriued at the citie, where the great Turke was resident. When to witnesse the honourable cōpany there vnder Sayle, they discharge their Ordinance in such a braue peale, that the people, not accustomed to so suddaine a gréeting, came running on heapes to the Hauen, to knowe the cause of such a braue warning.

[Page] The great Turke himselfe, desirous likewise to vnderstand these newes, came ryding with his courtly attendants toward the Hauen, whom Polendos espying, tooke the faire Targiana by the hand, & accompanied with his noble train of princes and Knights, armed in very rich & sumptuous order, presented her before her Father, when falling on her knées and bedewing her face with a fewe teares, she humbled her selfe to kisse his féete. The great Turke mooued with naturall remorse & pitie, embra­ced her very louingly in his armes, and came to the king Polen­dos & his company, vsing them with marueilous Princely and gratious fauour, lodging them in his own pallace, and feasting them in such noble wise, that the Emperors court, they thought themselues at no time better vsed. Thus continued they in all possible pleasure, till the day came of their departure, when the Turke vsed such intreaty to thē, that he perswaded them to stay one day longer. And then he prepared such a priuely Feast, as in all the time of their being there, they neuer had the like, passing their dinner time, in talke of the Emperor Palmerin, as also the honorable vsage of his daughter at Constantinople. The tables were no sooner withdrawne, but there entred fiftie armed and well appointed knights, each one hauing his swoord drawen in his hand, cōmanding not one should offer resistance, except he would presently loose his life. The great Turke entred at a false or secret doore, giuing to thē these spéeches. Yéeld Polendos, and grant thy selfe and thy company to be my prisoners, otherwise, you shall all presently loose your heades. Polendos with all his Knights, tooke one corner of the Hall, kéeping their Swords in their hands, and then himselfe spake to the Turke in this order. I would gladly knowe, for what cause you offer vs this great discourtesie, considering how well your Daughter hath béene vsed at Constantinople, as also the honour we haue done you, to conduct her safely to your Court. Polendos (answered the Turke) to the Emperor thy lord, thy selfe and these thy friends, I meane no harme, but I am so offended with the knight, who tooke my Daughter hence with him into Greece, that I pro­mise, you shall not depart from hence, till the Emperour deliuer that Knight into my hands.

[Page] Trust me (quoth Polendos) our hope would stand in hard suspence, if we should stay here on this condition, wherefore we estéeme it more honour, to end our liues in the face of our ene­mies, then to be thy vassailes here in continuall Prison. And hereupon assure thy selfe, that the Emperour would more glad­ly leaue all the knights in his Court, then to satisfie thy desire with him, who is one of the most hardy and noblest knights on the earth, to whom likewise I wish as much good, as to mine owne soule. Well, sayd the Turke, then must you resolue your selues, either presently to abide the death, or submit your selues to remaine my Prisoners.

At these words, the Princesse Targiana cast her selfe on her knées before her Father, desiring him not to vse such cruelty to them, who had done her so much honor in the Emperors court, as also deliuered her in the peril of her life, being dangerously assaulted as they came in the voyage. The Turke seeing how imporunate his Daughter was on him, in a great anger con­uayed himself forth againe, because he would not sée the slaugh­ter of so many good knights. Then Targiana séeing her Fa­ther gone, intreated the king Polendos and his company, that they would suffer themselues to remaine as Prisoners, and not to abide the danger, if they should offer resistance, being na­ked, and hauing nothing to defend them withal. And during the time they were in prison, she would either deuise or accomplish such meanes, as she had no doubt but to purchase their liberty. Vpon this good perswasion they yeelded themselues, when they were presently carryed into a deepe dungeon in a strong tower, and there were laded with as many irons as they could possible beare, whereat Targiana receiued great griefe, cloathing her selfe in mourning apparell, and would neuer shew any merry countenance, during the time the Knights were in Prison, where they remained a long time, as you shall reade in the se­cond part of this Booke.

The Turke commanded the Christian Galleys to be kept in safe and sure protection, and presently sent word to the Soldane of Persia with all the other Princes, how he had diuers of the Emperours knights prisoners, on whom he determined sharp [Page] reuenge, for the great iniury which Florian of the Desart had done him. These newes they estéemed very strange, neuerthe­lesse, being very fearefull any way to displease him, they made resemblance of a good opinion in this matter, giuing him coun­sell to kéepe them, vntill the Prince Albayzar were returned, whom else the Emperour might cause to be slaine.

The great Turke trusted very much on their deuise, suffe­ring the captiue Princes, that they might send their Esquires to the Emperour Palmerin, to aduertise him of the miserie wherein they remained, but the Esquires by no meanes would forsake their Maisters, desiring, as they had accompa­nied them in prosperity, so not to leaue them now in this great mischance.

Which when Belcar perceiued, he commanded his Esquire, to go and certerfie the Emperour, what great mishap had be­follen vnto them. When the Esquire was come to Constanti­nople, these newes were nothing welcome to the Emperor, ne­ther to Primaleon, who before him entred into these words. My gratious Lord and father, this mischance is onely procured by your meanes, for that you dealt so courteously with them, who had neither quality nor any motion of desert in them. But now I would gladly sée, what thing you can accomplish any way to pleasure them, for I iudge, that all your power is not sufficient to deliuer them from the bondage wherein they are. Wherfore I thinke it best, that you send with all spéed to séeke the prince Albayzar, through whom you may recouer the king Polendos and your knights, other way I cannot perceiue, that may pleasure them or profite you.

My Sonne (answered the Emperour) if the imprisonment of Polendos and my knights were perpetuall, I would not séeke to set them at liberty by this meane, for I had rather they should enioy the death, then to accomplish that which might be my continuall reproach, for this difference I alway craue, betweene me and all the world that the good may be per­fectly discerned from the euill. Albayzer is not guilty in the iniury which the Turke doeth séeme to offer my Knightes: [Page] therefore it were against honour, that he should suffer for ano­thers offence, but this is it whereat I am most amazed, that Targiana will suffer this great discourtesie, considering the ho­nour she receiued in our Court.

My deare Soueraigne (quoth the Esquire) there is no cause to complaine of her, for her intreaty could no way preuaile with [...]er Father, whereupon hee rehearsed the whole discourse [...]nd manner of their imprisonment, which the Emperour ha­ [...]ing heard, departed with the Empresse into his Chamber very [...]rie, where we must forsake him, and returne to the Prince [...]lorendos.

He trauailed so long, accompanied with the noble Albayzar, [...]at being in the Dominions of Spaine, they came to a faire [...]astell, which Albayzar knowing very well, began thus to o­pen his intent. Sir Florendos, I haue heretofore passed this place, in the greatest danger that euer I was in, fror through giuing aide to a Damosell, whom bloody minded wretches sought to dishonest, I slewe them with ten more, as also their Lord named Dramorant the Cruell, who kept this Castell, at which exployte, the noble Palmerin of England, Florian and Pompides his Brethren, were present, and can testifie what I haue spoken. Therefore I pray you let vs goe to the Castell, for that I assure my selfe, the Lady to whom I gaue it, at such time as I deliuered her out of danger, will receiue vs with a courteous and friendly welcome. I am content (quoth Floren­dos) séeing we haue no other place to lodge in this night, that I can sée néere here about.

Thus breaking off their talke, they had not rid two stones cast, but they beheld foure armed Knights come towards them, and an Esquire who came before them, vttering these words to the Prince Florendos. Sir Knight, the great Astribor sendeth strait commandement, that you and your companious, do pre­sentle yéeld your Armour vnder his obeysance, the deniall wher­of shall cause him vse more cruelty toward you, then he would willingly offer to any good knight.

No other thing doth he request of you, except you can report to [Page] him tydings, of a knight who hath s [...]aine Dramorant his Bro­ther, sometime Lord and rightfull possessor of this castle, which was giuen by that Knight to a Damosell, whom he keepeth in prison, till Fortune send the Knight hither, to sacrifice them both to his Gods, for reuenge of his brothers death.

Albayzar aduanced himselfe to make answere, but because he was vnarmed, Florendos thus replied to the Esquire. Goe tell my Lord Astribor, that I am not the Knight he would so gladly finde, but I am well acquainted with him, and am sure that hée hath slaine his Knightes deseruedly, as for mine Ar­mour, because I cannot very well spare it, I am c [...]ntent he shall goe without it at this time, except I had more knowledge of him, how to haue it when I shall returne. Well, said the E­squire, since you will not yéelde it by gentle meanes, you must prepare your selfe against these Knights, who are here appoin­ted by sufficient authoritie, to take their Armor away perforce, who refused to yéeld it according to custome.

Florendos seeing the Knights prouided to Ioust, he encoun­tred with them, and sent two couragiously to measure their length on the ground, the one being slaine outright, the other so sore wounded, that he was not able to rec [...]uer himselfe.

Then came foorth Astribor himselfe, very brauely mounted, and séeing Florendos destitute of a Launce, he gaue his Horse the spurs, and ran against him with such force. that Florendos was constrained to fall to the ground, but recouering himselfe, he dealt with Astribor in such couragious manner, that bring­ing him vnder his obeysance, he cut off his head in recompence of his disloyall actes.

Certaine Knights that were in the Castell, and had séene their Lord and Master so conquered, lett their Armour, cōming toward the Prince Florendos, to whom in reuerent manner they yéelded themselues.

But he would not enter the Castell, before the Lady might come soorth of Prison, whereupon Albayzar entred, and found her in a Dungeon, very cruelly vsed, so that a great while she could not remember him, but at last shee fell on her [Page] knées, and to reward his gentlenesse, submitted her selfe to kisse his hand, who would not suffer her, but sustained her courteous­ly in his armes: willing her to thanke the Prince Florendos and not him, because he was not suffered to beare Armour.

The Lady at these words fell into a great rage, and as though she were distraight of her wits, began thus to say. Cursed be he that hath so dishonoured yon, for credit me, knightly Armes were better bestowed on you, then on him, or any of his linage: wherefore, I am thus perswaded, that Ladies shall haue losse of so good a knight as you, whose heart aud hand was euer rea­dy to aide them.

Albayzar not suffering her to runne so farre in his praise, fra­med his talke to another purpose: desirous to knowe, in what maner Astribor had happened thither. Syr (quoth she) you shal vnderstand, that this Astribor was brother to Dramorant the Cruell, a man of more malicious nature, then euer was the Gi­ant his brother: he was no sooner aduertised of his death, but with ten knights he came vnto this Fortresse, where finding small force to resist him, he entred, cau [...]ing all he found here to be put to the sword, reseruing me in prison, till he might chance to haue knowledge of you, when then he intended to burne vs both together: and till he might come by you, he ordained this custome, which is so worthily finished.

Albayzar being certified of euery thing at his pleasure, caused the Prince Florendos to be vnarmed: and his woundes were very carefully respected by the Lady, who had good knowledge in the Art of Chirugery. There they stayed longer, then the Prince Florendos willingly would: for no place were it neuer so pleasant, could satisfie his fancy, but onely the place where re­mained his best beloued.

CHAP. XCVII.
Of that which happened to Palmrin of England, in the com­pany of the Damosell of Thrace.

SVch spéede the noble Palmerin of England made, in the company of the Damosel, with whom he trauailed, that without any ad­uenture to hinder them, they quietly entred the kingdome of Thrace: whereat the Da­mosell was very ioyfull, séeing euery thing fell so fit as she desired, and the labour she had spent so many yéeres, began as now so happily to prosper. This Damosell being very well knowne, and highly honoured through all the kingdome, great resort of people came from ma­ny Cities and Townes, to receiue her ioyfully, who had béene so long time absent.

The people beholding the prince Palmerin, gaue foorth these spéeches to one another. Behold our gratious Lord and Soue­raigne, happy shall his subiects be, to be vnder the gouernment of such a noble Prince, in whom remaineth both courage and clemency: who shall finish the enchanted estate of our Prin­cesse, enioy her as his onely Quéene and Lady, and gouerne the Scepter ouer vs, according as our deceased Prince did appoint it.

But Palmerin applied his whole cogitations, how he might manifest his loyaltie to the Princesse Polinarda, more then he respected the honour which was done vnto him: and though hée had good hope to ende his enterprise, his intent was presently to returne to his Lady and mistresse. In this opinion they rode on togither, til they came to the city of Limorsana, where the prin­cipall lords and rulers, came to receiue him with all triumphes possible: conducting him to the royall Pallace. and in all respects [Page] vsing him as their king and Emperour. Then came he to the chamber of the Quéene Carmelia, who was Aunt to the prin­cesse Leonarda, where doing his duty vnto her, she receiued him as nobly, as had he bene her owne sonne, because she verily thought he should marry with the Princesse.

But she was farre from the intent of the English Priuce, who séeing them so verily to beléeue, that he should be their Go­uernour of Thrace, was somewhat offended, remembring his promise to his Lady Polinarda. Wherefore he tooke leaue of them, courteously bowing himselfe to the Quéene Carmelia, & went to his chamber, where he was vnarmed by Siluian, and the Damosell that came all the way in his company.

At supper he was accompanyed with the Quéene Carmelia, many Lords and noble Gentlemen of that country, who shew­ed great courtesie to the English Prince, till the houre of rest came, when euery one departed to their chambers, and Palme­rin to his lodging, where he could take no rest, because he desi­red so much the deliuery of the princesse Leonarda. In the mor­ning Siluian armed him very early, so that when the Lords came to his chamber, they found him ready to depart thence: wherfore they accompanied him to the Chappel, where seruice was solemnized very royally by the Archbishop of the cittie, and then they rode with him, neare the place where the Princesse was Enchanted, reporting to him the dangers and feare, that in this aduenture should chance vnto him.

CHAP. XCVIII.
How Palmerin tooke his way to the Enchaunted Princesse, and of that which happened to him.

IN short time, the Lords had brought the prince to the place where Leonarda remai­ned enchanted, where he beheld in a plea­sant valley, a company of braue and stauely Towers among the gréene trées: the buil­dings séeming so excellent to the eye, that nature could not haue inuented them more gallant: so that he thought them to be framed by the Celestiall powers, rather then by any earthly creatures.

Palmerin was glad to sée a thing so pleasant, though he were sorrowfull to be absent from his Lady Polinarda: and compa­ring the great felicitie of him, who should enioy the Princesse Leonarda, with the mournfull thoughts that frequented his mind, he could make choyse of nothing, but onely the hope hée had to be fauoured of his lady: whose remembrance, caused this aduenture to promise him more pleasure, then the hazard of such a doubt could moue him to feare. A thing, which truly is a great grace in a discréete man, because that diuers tunes we sée, the doubtfullest things to haue the pleasantest issue: and that which séemeth most pleasant at the beginning, doth proue to be the sharpest danger in the ending. Euen so this noble Prince Pal­merin contained such a courage and magnanimity of mind, that no feare or dismaying had power to supplant his thoughts, be­cause good fortune suffered him, to returne from euery attempt with honour.

[Page] One of the chéefe knights that kept him company, presented himselfe to him in this manner. Most worthy Sir, to whom Fortune hath alway béene so great a Friend, that no danger or distresse could offer to dismay you, séeme not now to discourage your selfe in this aduenture, for your accustomed prosperity, can not forsake you at this present. Yet sometime a raw procéeding returneth an vnexpected and vndeserued punishment: but as this case standeth, your noble selfe accompanied with so great aduised care, cannot moue a foote further then vertue shall war­rant your safety. Pardon me good Sir, if I haue béene ouer la­uish in my spéech, which I intended to no other issue, but onely to aduertise you, that this aduenture is perillous, and therefore craueth the more héed, and that a friendly admonishment, is better then too late repentance?

Sir, answered Palmerin, your counsaile, shewing so great grauity and foresight, I estéeme a great deale more then at this time I will vtter: for if Fortune spéede me in this enterprise, I will not be vnmindfull of your friendly good will. This pro­mise presented with so great humanitie, enflamed a suddaine enuy in the hearts of some there present, who for the hope they had to sée him king, began to enter into more dissembling pray­ses, then any true or faithfull subiect would séeme to offer. For they began to perswade him, that no aduenture, how dange­rous soeuer it proued, might attaine the power to astonish his person: but he declining from such vainglorious prayses, as was the dayly gifts and workes of flatterers, courteoussy tooke his leaue of them all, and set spurs to his Horse, riding towards his determination.

An example surely worthy of great praise to all Princes and rulers liuing on the earth, that they should not incline and leane to such, who onely study with swéete words, flatte­ring tales, and false reportss, to rest and bring them asléepe in so vile an exercise. Which painted faces if they would sup­presse, their Subiects, Friends, and Seruants, should bée e­qually regarded, their renowne plentifully encreased, and ac­cordingly honoured, yea, the vertuous should be richly rewar­ded, [Page] and the vicious rightfully for euer reproched, then would not the plaine dealer, be gouerned by such as haue béene no­ted, but the good should be openly discerned from the euill, and all enioy one hope for a continuall quiet: but to our matter, Palmerin being come somewhat neare the place, the light be­ganne to darken, the Ayre to be maruellously troubled, and mistie, so that the Lords of Thrace were ouercome with such feare, that some fell beside their Horses, some hurt them­selues very sore, and they all made hast to the Citie as fast as they could, where tho darkenesse likewise was very terri­ble.

Siluian, whom Palmerin had willed to stay behind him, sée­ing this suddaine feare, tooke such courage that he would follow his Maister, but the Enchantment would not suffer any to enter there, saue onely the Knight, who had the power to ende it: that Siluian was forced to returne to the Citie, where hée found the people in a great astonishment, at that which happened since the departure of Palmerin. Who remembring the wordes of the ancient Knight, beganne to dislike the en­stance of sharpe an euill, for he thought easily to finde the way of this aduenture, but he was greatly deceiued, when hée felt such paine, as he supposed would haue rent him asunder. Likewise he thought not to finde any in this place, who had the power to torment him, beyond the loue he bare to his lady: but he found his expectation altered, when an inuisible motion dismounted him from his Horse, wherevpon in an anger hee drewe his Swoord, thinking to preuaile against him that o­uerthrew him, but séeing his blowes to be smitten against the winde, he thought to mount on Horsebacke againe, and then to ride forward.

But all his labour was in vaine, it was not possible for him to finde his Horse, but that which was more to his dis­aduantage, not onely his Swoord was taken from him, but likewise all his Armour was caught away on a suddaine, and the darkenesse was so violent, that hée had not the com­moditie to goe forward, nor yet to goe backe againe, to the place where he commaunded Siluian to tarrie.

CHAP. XCIX.
¶What happened to the Prince Palmerin, in this daunge­rous aduenture.

PAlmerin hauing lost his Horse and Ar­mor, as you haue heard already, became full of heauinesse, because he was in respect naked, and so hard an aduenture required better prouision: his strength on a sud­daine beganne to faile him, his armes and legges denied their wonted nimblenesse, and on a suddaine he heard a mighty and terrible thundering, that still he expected when the earth would haue opened vnder him.

Vpon this he heard a fearefull hollowe voyce, but looking a­bout him, he could perceiue no body, and then was he snatcht vp such a mighty height, that he still looked when he should be violently throwen downe againe. This feare had not the power to hurt him, but to his greater comfort, the light exclu­ded the darkenesse away, when he found himselfe to be in the middest of a little Iland enclosed rounde about with a Lake so blacke and ouglie, that he thought it to be one of the floods of Hell.

Néere to him he espyed an olde withered Trée, and vnder­neath it stoode a Knight armed with the Armour of Palmerin, with his Swoorde like wise in his hand, whereupon he began to the Prince in this order. I desire (Syr Knight) to sée at this present, by what meanes thou canst defend thy selfe [Page] from me, who with this Swoorde will mangle thy flesh and bones, whereon the wilde Beastes of the Countrey shall feed: so that thy renowne famed ouer all the whole earth, shall here take full end, where none can approach to beare witnesse of thy death.

The Prince, who was neuer accustomed to any feate, was nowe surprised in maruaylous manner, whereat no mar­uaile ought to bee vsed, in that hée was destitute of any thing for his defence, and to striue by the armes with such an ene­mie, hee founde it altogether insufficient: yet notwith­standing, the extremitie which Fortune had allotted him, hée approched to the Knights, offering to aduenture so vppon him.

But as they thought to close together, a darke Cloude sud­dainly ouershadowed them, so that Palmerin could no way dis­cerne the Knight, but thinking as it were to gripe him, his Sword was suddainly put into his hand, and his Armour hée perceyued vnder the Tree, but the Knight was gone he knew not which way.

Palmerin héereat was somewhat abashed, but séeing this ad­uenture so replenished with fearefull assaults, and that the end of all would be changed into rigour, he armed himselfe againe with such a courage, that not only his strength was encreased, but also his minde nobly addicted, to accomplish that which he so mucgh desired.

The light beganne to be chéerefull againe, when Palme­rin discerned the faire Castell, whereto he could not attaine, without crossing that ougly Lake, which to passe hée coulde deuise no meanes, but it woulde stand on the hazarde of his life.

Beside, the Banke on the other side, was so stéepe appro­ching downe to the water, that he could not iudge with him­selfe howe to get vp, because [...] w [...]ight of his Armour, would [...] a great hinderaunce to him, to [...] on the side where hée would be: yet more to hinder his determination, hee espyed there a companie of mo [...]ous and mishapen Beasts, who on [Page] a suddaine fought so furiously together, that in the end they had vtterly spoyld and killed one another.

Their gréeuous fight being thus ended, hée went about the Iland, to see where he might haue passage to the other side, at last he espied a Boate, hauing foure Ores in it, which were handled and gouerned by foure Apes, eche one tyed with a mighty Chayne, and at the one ende of the Boate sate a migh­ty Lyon, all embrued in blood, as though he were Maister and conducter of the Passage, who fed himselfe with nothing else, but the flesh of his Passengers.

While Palmerin tooke occasion to beholde this sight, he espi­ed a man on the farder side, crying to the Beastes to carry him ouer with them, whereat, he became very much amazed, and thought no man to be so foolish, as to hazard himselfe vnder such a Pilote.

The man was no sooner entred the Boate, but the Lyon straight way rent him in peeces, giuing part of him to his com­panions, to sustaine their life.

The Prince who stood and behold all this, knew not how to determine with himselfe, for he sawe no way to passe, but the terror of death was both before and behind him, wherefore see­ing there was no remedy, hee concluded to put himselfe to the rigour of the Beasts, and to shift with them by strength of his armes, for he sawe himselfe wholly destitute of any other hope.

Héereupon he looked how hée might discende downe, for the Rocke was so slipperie and stéepe, that hée thought there was no other way, but to breake his necke, in this extremitie hée committed himselfe to God, and afterward to his Mistresse he beganne in this manner. Madame, it is not the losse of life which appaleth me, but the hope of your fauour that sustaineth me in doubte, but if I well consider with my selfe, the ending of my life in this aduenture, will be the greatest good that euer may happen to me because then my insupportable paines shall attaine a perfect and full conclusion. Yet knowing the gréefe which mollesteth me, procéedeth from none but onely [Page] you, I fixe my ioy and comfort to this ende, that your helpe in this and all other extreames, is the onely aduancement of my good fortune.

Héere taking occasion to stay, hée suffered himselfe to slyde softly downe the Rocke, and attained the Riuer side without any harme: whereupon, the Lyon and his fellowes came to re­ceiue him into the Boate, but hée perceiuing all this was En­chauntment, drew his sword and offered resistance, when pre­sently the beasts vanished, he knew not which way.

Then Palmerin leaped into the Boate, and with all diligence rowed himselfe to y farther side, but when he was landed there, hée had more cause of maruaile, because now hée sawe no way how to get vp vpon that Rocke.

Walking a litle aside, hée beheld a Rope that reached to the ground from the top, which was so slender and rotten, that hée thought it not able to abide the waight of his Armour, where­fore, to make himself the lighter, he determined to leaue his Ar­mor there, yet not knowing what occasion he should haue to vse it, when he should come to the top of the Rocke, he bound himselfe about the middle with the Rope, when presently hée was pulde vp with maruailous speede, and when he was at the toppe, he could not perceiue them that had drawne him vp. Then he knew he was in the Field where the beasts were slaine, and that euery thing the Enchauntment presented to him, was for no other cause but to abate his courage: where fore, he addicted himselfe so aduenturous, that all the feare in the world, had not the power to dismay him.

CHAP. C.
How Palmerin ended the Enchantment, of the Princesse Leonarda.

FOr all that night, Palmerin rested himselfe vnder a Trée, and in the morning he beheld the Towers very brauely: wherefore he walked on, and at last espied his Horse ty­ed to a Trée, in no worse case then when he left him. So mounting vpon him, he rode a little further, where hee met with two Knights, who without any words, couched their speares against him: the first receiued vpon his Shield, and the Knights presently vanished away: the second burst his Lance vpon him, whervpon Palmerin followed him, to requite him with a blow of his sword, but he lost the sight of him, in like maner as he did of the other knight.

Then Palmerin looking about, espied a man readie to draw a Bridge, which was the passage ouer a water, which made him to gallop thither apace, so that he entred the gate before he had the power to locke it. When he-sawe himselfe in so faire a Castle, he aduanced himselfe to sée the brauerie of the Cham­bers: but two Giants came and laid at him with their Maces, so that he was enforced to fall on the ground, but recouering himselfe, & thinking to fasten halfe a good blowes on them, they were gone, nothing remaining before him but a great smoake.

This caused him, to make the lesse estimation of any thing [Page] that chaunced, and whatsoeuer resisted him, hee would but little force of, so comming into the Court of the Castell, he per­ceiued a little gate on high in the wall, whereto he must ascend by a paire of staires, so narrow and dangerous, that a man would haue hardly trusted himselfe on them.

Palmerin, desirous to sée the ende of his labours, aduentured to goe vp vpon them, and when he was on the middle steppe, all the walles about him beganne to shake very vehemently, so that Palmerin doubted the whole Castell would fall vpon him, and till came to the top of the staires the Enchantment la­sted, where he was no sooner come, but a general terror did shew the Enchantment to be fully ended.

Palmerin entring through that little doore, came into a darke entrie, where there was a great gate, made fast with great Lockes and boltes of Iron, and hard by the gate lay a migh­tie Serpent, whose horrible bignesse and oughly forme, made the Prince to be greatly amazed, about whose necke vpon a Chaine, was hanged the Keyes that should open the gate.

The Prince knewe not how to passe this gate, except he might winns the Keyes from so terrible a Porter, whom hee charged with many noble strokes, and the Serpent breathed such horrible veneme and smoke, hauing the Princes Swoord in one of his nostrilles: that with a terrible [...]ore hee slewe through one of the windowes. The people séeing it flye ouer the Cittie, which made them iudge, that Palmerin as then was in some painefull trauaile, for whose good successe they prayed very often.

When he saw the Serpent was gone, he found the Keyes on the ground, wherewith he vnlocked and opened the gate, en­tring into so faire a Hall, that the Perilous Isle, where Eutro­pa cast her selfe into the Lake, nor the sumptuous Castle of the Sage Aliart Obscure Valley, might compare with this rare and excellent Monument, which was so engeniously deuised by the King of Thrace.

He walked all about, and found all things new to bee [Page] in perfect estate, for that the Enchantment was fully finished, but at last he came to a Chamber, where he perceiued certaine Damosels talking, and by them stood an armed man, who like­wise tooke pleasure to conferre with the Damosels.

The Prince loth to trouble them, entred into a verie faire Garden, where on a gréene banke, by a faire Fountaine, he beheld diuers Ladies of excellent beautie, but especially, the faire young Princesse Leonarda, who had no sooner espied him but she came to him very courteously in this manner. Cre­dite me Sir Knight, I finde my selfe so largely beholding to you, that I cannot recompence you so nobly as you haue de­serued, but in time I shall endeuour my selfe to requite the ho­nourable bounty receiued at your hands, meane while, I shall request you, to accept my good will in satisfaction of your noble déedes, which are imprinted so déepe in my heart, that I shall not faile to accomplish, what your Prowesse hath bound me in.

My gratious Lady (answered Palmerin) the beauty which Nature hath aboundantly adorned you withall, is sufficient to content the greatest trauailes, attempted by the hardyest Knight in the world: if so be Fortune had allowed him the ly­bertie to receiue so great a benefite of such a gratious Lady. But séeing the aduenture here so wonderfull, that these pre­sent, put them past into darke obliuion, I shall intreate you to tell me, if I haue any greater danger to passe, then this which it pleaseth you to present before me, for trust me I shall dispaire to accomplish them, knowing right well, that the hope of so rich a Treasure, as is your beautie, ought to be re­serued for the Knight who is indewed with greater Prewesse then my selfe.

These words procured a swéete blushing in the Princesse face, whereof to be resoued, she replyed thus. I know not, Sir Knight, what danger you sustaine at this present, because all the dangers and hazards of the Castle, tooke end at such tune as you came into this Garden. But then to breake off their talke, there came in the Lords and Gouernours of the [Page] Citty, who séeing the Serpent fly ouer the Citty, which they knew very well to be the end of the Enchantment, they came with great Maiesty riding to the Castle, where comming into the Garden, they humbled themselues on their knées before the Princesse Leonarda, offering likewise to kisse the hand of the noble Palmerin, which he would not suffer: but receiued them courteously as his friends and companions. The Quéene Car­melia sent a Coach to the Castle, wherein the Princesse. Leo­narda was brought to the Pallace of her Vnckle, who recei­ued her as became her high estate and dignity: and the Prince Palmerin likewise they vsed great honour and Princely obey­sance, but when he came to the Camber, he found there Siluian who was not a little glad to sée his Lord so sauely returned.

CHAP. CI.
Of that which Palmerin did, while he remaineded in the Court of Thrace.

NOw at the request of the Quéen Carmelia, Palmerin granted to stay in the court of Thrace for eight dayes, in which time, the Lords to fulfill the commandement of their deceassed King, went to the Camber of the Queene Carmelia, in whose presence they charged the Duke Rialdo, to giue the Eng­lish Prince to vnderstand what their King Sardamant had commanded to be fulfilled.

On this they all came to the Princes Chamber, where they found him talking with Siluian, as concerning his speedy depar­ture [Page] from thence: which they knewe he had appointed as the next day following, but they making themselues ignorant ther­of, at last the Duke Rialdo entred into these spéeches.

My Lord, as I thinke you haue not forgotten, what com­mandement our deceassed king Sardamant, left to be performed in the marriage of the Princesse Leonarda his Néece.

So it is, that willing to accomplish his straight and heauie charge, as also not to suffer such a noble Prince, who hath meri­ted so graciously, to be ingratefully recompenced, likewise on our parts, that we cannot esteeme for ourselues a more happy felicity, then such a King to rule vs, whose déeds rightly deserue to be Monarch of the whole world: these causes considered and nominated, we humbly desire you, to accept your owne by right, and our dutie to sée faithfully accomplished, which is, to be our gratious King and Seueraigne, so that our happy and tran­quill estate, remaine feared of the stranger, and beloued of our friends and neighbours. Except the increase of wealth, doe alter the noble mind, which had alwaies hitherto continued vpright, as to some it happeneth: but falling into so great mishap, your estimation would be the lesse accounted of, So that the honou­rable pains you haue bestowed, to restore vs the princesse Leo­narda our Queene, should be blotted with such obliuous re­ports, as though they had béene neuer séene or done.

I assure you Sir, answered Palmerin, the refuse which I make, to accept a reward so happie and fortunate, is onely be­cause I verily iudge, the Princesse Leonarda ought to be kept for such a one, as may better my estate in wealth and worthi­nesse.

The Damosel of Thrace, who had brought him thither, stan­ding by and hearing the answere he made, came vnto him in this manner.

Sir Palmerin, I know right well, that loue hindreth you to enioy what your déeds hath deserued, and causeth you to muse on such a one, as peraduēture thinketh not so well of you, which is the onely cause, that you refuse the recompence of your hono­rable and famous labours.

[Page] The words of the Damosell, séemed very reason able to the Duke and his company, but séeing they could obtaine no other answere of Palmerin, they returned againe to the Quéene Car­melia, concluding, that he should giue a noble Lord to enioy the Princessé Leonarda; according as the King Sardamant had so ordained: whereto Palmerin gladly agréed, saying.

I account this honour (worthy Gentlemen) the greatest that euer fortune could sent me, in suffering your Princesse to ioyne in Marriage according to my minde: and therefore thus assure yourselues, that I shall bestew such a Prince vpon her, as both she and you shall be contented to receiue.

The Lords of Thrace gaue him very harty thankes, repor­ting his answere to the Queene Carmelia, who made such ac­ceptation thereof, as it worthily deserued: but Leonarda was somewhat offended, and would haue fallen into anger, had not the Damosell of Thrace vsed these words vnto her.

Faire Princesse, me thinkes you should not thinke so ill, of the constant faith and loyaltie of the Prince Palmerin, who wil kéepe his vowe he hath made to her, which perhaps is nothing inferior to you in beauty and wealth: and this I can assure you, that Palmerin hath a brother, a Prince so saire and vertuous in all his déedes, as if he ioyne you in marriage with him, I know you will gladly held your selfe content.

The Damosell vsed her perswasions so well, that the Prin­cesse Leonarda was very well pleased: of whom Palmerin tooke his leaue that night, because he would be gone somewhat early in the morning, which the Quéene Carmelia seeing, she tooke him aside, and thus charged him.

I pray you Sir to remember my Couzin Leonarda, and to send her such a Lord, as her birth and worthinesse hath continu­ally deserued.

And if you thinke it good, that I might cause her to be brought to the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, I should estéeme it the greatest honour that in all my life time might happen vnto me. For that I perswade me, he would so wel entertaine her, as the faire Polinarda, who is his Néece, with whom she would like­wise greatly delight her selfe.

[Page] Furthermore, because all the chiefe knights of the world, be at the Court of Constantinople, I would gladly this kingdome should be ruled by such a Prince, as hath bin trained vp by that famous Emperour.

Madame saide Palmerin, I assure you, the Emperour will estéeme this honour highly, and entertaine her according as she doeth deserue: therefore I wish you to send her so soone as may be, because the sooner she commeth, the better shall she be wel­come.

I pray you (quoth the Quéene) how estéeme you of the Da­mosell, that brought the Cup thither?

Truely answered Palmerin, I know no one so conuenient, by reason of the good spirit and wit she hath, which doeth great­ly grace her in reporting her message.

Presently the Quéene called for the Damosell, giuing her to vnderstand what was determined. Wherevpon there were letters of credit made for her: which done, Palmerin tooke leaue of the Quéene and the Princesse Leonarda, being accompanied with most of the nobles foorth of the Citie, where after many circumstances of friendly departing, they left him, and returned againe to the Citie.

Palmerin being very well armed, still vsing his Shield, to be called the Knight of the Tiger, trauailed on in his iourney accompanied with Siluian, yéelding his body to tra­uaile, and his heart to his Lady and Mis­tresse, as in the second part you shall sée very gallantly dis­coursed.

FINIS.

THus Gentlemen, you haue heard the first part of our English Princes labors, wher­in, if you find the Translation altered, or the true sence in some place of a matter impaired, let this excuse answere his de­fault in that case. A worke so large, is sufficient to tire so simple a workeman as himselfe: and beside, the Printer may in some place let an error escape. So betweene these two rea­sons, let the Author passe vncontrowled, which will hasten him the sooner to send you the second part: wherein he dares promise you, such plentifull varietie of choice conceits, as cannot be so long expected, as they will bee thought worthy of a welcome, Meane while, he reposeth himselfe on your wonted courtesies: desiring to heare nothing, that may dis­harten him from his intent, or hinder you from the end of so braue a Historie.

FINIS.
Anthony Munday.
Patere aut abstine.
THE SECOND PART, OF …

THE SECOND PART, OF THE NO LESSE RARE, THEN excellent and stately Historie, of the famous and fortunate Prince Palmerin of England. and Florian du Desart his brother.

CONTAINING THEIR KNIGHTLY deeds of Chiualry, successe in their loues pursuite, and other admirable fortunes.

Wherein Gentlemen may finde choyse of sweete inuentions, and Gentlewomen be satisfied in Courtly expectations.

Translated out of French, by A. M. one of the Messengers of her Maiesties Chamber.

Patere aut abstine.

LONDON Printed by Thomas Creede, and Bernard Alsop 1616.

TO THE VVOR­SHIPFVLL MAISTER FRAN­CIS YOVNG OF BRENT PEL­ham, in the Countie of Hertford Esquire, and to Mistresse Susan Young, his Wife, and my kinde Mistresse, he [...]lth, and hap­pinesse intirely wished.

ALPHONSVS king of Naples, (Right Worshipfull) a King renowmed in sun­drie volumes of Antiquitie, for his wise­dome, Bountie, and Affablilitie of Na­ture, lying very sore sicke in the Citie of Capua, hauing tryed the very vttermost cunning his Physitions could vse on him, yet all would not helpe to recouer his health, determined with him­selfe to take no more Medicines: but for his recreati­on caused the Storie of Quintus Curtius (concerning the deedes of Alexander the Great) to be read before him, at the hearing whereof hee conceyued such woonderfull pleasure, as Nature gathered strength by it, and chased away the frowardnes of his disease.

Wherevpon in some sorte, hauing soone recoue­red his health, hee discharged his Physitians, with these wordes: Feast mee no more with Galene, and Hyp­pocrates, sith all their skill would not serue to asswage my [Page] sickenesse: but well fare Quintius Curtius that holpe mee so soone to my health.

By this example may be gathered (right worship­full) how necessary it is (oftentimes) to reade Histo­ries, which in the iudgement of the wise are esteemed as healthfull to the mind, as Phisick is accounted holesome for the body: yea, oftentimes more, for that the sodaine inward conceit of delight (wherewith Histories are plen­tifully enriched) may sooner breake and qualifie the ex­treamity of a painfull disease, then the long and labour­some applying of Physicall receipts. Yet, not to con­demne the one, nor extoll the other more then it deser­ueth, I allow of both very well: but I must needs thus confesse with Aristotle, that History is the Schoolemi­stresse of Princes, and the onely Trumpet that soundeth in the eares of all noble personages, the famous deeds of their worthy progenitors.

Plato likewise affirmeth, that the name of History was giuen to this end, that by recording matters of antiqui­ty, our fleeting memories might be stayed, which other­wise would soone be lost and retaine little.

Seeing then (right worshipfull) that Histories carry such credite among the learned sort, and haue not bene a little esteemed of both Emperours, kings, and fa­mous Potentates? as a testimony of my vnfained affec­tion and dutie to your worshippe: I offer you the se­cond part of this excellent and famous Historie, which how bad the rude translation thereof may seeme to the daintie eares, I know: but how singular it is of it selfe, no better description then the reading ouer can be made.

I presume therefore, maister Young, as the Romanes did, who were woont to place the pictures of their [Page] most especial friends, at the very entrance into their state­ly Pallaces, therby to declare their zealous and vnspotted affection to him. In like maner haue I stampt your wor­ships name in the face of this historie, as well to counte­nance the Book with such a worshipfull personage, as to credit my selfe with your woonted and fauourable good liking: for I account my selfe, and my labours free from the reproach of wounding tongues, being allowed but the least moitie of your gentle iudgement. It shall bee needlesse for me to wade into tedious circumstances, when to the wise and learned a word is sufficient: where­fore Palmerin reposeth himselfe on your kinde conceite, and wisheth such happy continuance to you, your wife my gentle Mistresse, and whole issue, as the world being partaker of your vertues, my selfe acquainted with your fauourable opinion, and my Booke defended by your worthy selfe, you may remaine, as in yeeres, so in happi­nesse: and the longer your course, the larger your com­fort.

Your worships at command, A. Mundy.

To the Reader.

ACcording to my promise, I haue finished the second part of Palmerins famous historie: how plētifully it is enriched with singular conceite, sweete inuention, and commenda­ble purposes, leaue to thy iudgement, not doubting but that thou [...] censnr [...] therof vnpartially. And least thou shouldest [...]edge, that this second part broakes off abruptly, not shewing what become of the Prin­ces, after they were conuayed by the Sage Aliart to the Peril­lous Isle: vnderstand, that the third part shall acquaint thee therewith, as also the full conclusion of euery matter herein handled, which if thou be desirous to haue, giue these two for­mer Bookes the friendlier welcome, and it will hasten the tran­slation of the other with the greater speede.

Thy vnfained friend to his power. A. Munday.

THE SECOND PART OF the famous Historie, of the noble and valiant Prince Palmerin of England, containing other most sing [...]lar and knightly deedes by him atchieued, and worthily finished.

CHAP. I.
Of that which happened to the Prince Florendos, after that he had left the Castle of Dramorant the Cruell, where hee vanquished Astribor.

I Haue made rehearsall vnto you in the first part of this Historie, how the valiant Prince Palmerin of England, who caused himselfe to be called the Knight of the Tiger happily brought to the end the cruell en­chantment, wherein the faire Leonarda Princesse of Thrace, was long time detai­ned, and hauing staied long in that realme, he concluded to take his leaue of the Quéene Carmelia, and the young Lady, desiring them humbly, that they would not séeme to hinder him from his voyage to Constantinople, with­in whose walles was inclosed the inestimable treasure of his knightly and loyall minde, which indéede was the faire Princesse Polinarda, the soueraigntie of whose beautie was of such power, as made him refuse the Crowne of Thrace, which was presented vnto him, (according as the Sage Aliart made rehearsall before these famous aduentures) by the prin­cipall noble Gentlemen throughout the realme of Thrace, [Page] who hartily desired if it might be possible, that the noble Palme­rin of England, (whose honestie, valour and Knightly cour­tesie was agréeable together) should fulfill the commande­ment of their King Sardament, which they would haue béene very loth to contrary, had he thereto consented. But Palmerin made knowne his minde and secret intent, as well vnto them as also to the Princesse, both what he intended, and what hée would sée especially performed, wheron his honor should stand for a warrant, which they in the end gratefully accepting, hum­bled themselues, to take their farewell of him, and he framing the like toward the Quéene, the Princesse, and them all, depar­ted with a princely conge, and rode on in a thousand thoughts toward Constantinople, bearing his aforenamed deuise of the Tiger in his shield, where, to his prosperous iourney we will leaue him a while, and returne to the Prince Florendos, son to the noble Primaleon, who hauing slaine Astribor, and giuen li­berty to the Lady that was prisoner in his Castell, departed on his iourney with Albayzar, in whose company he passed the Realme of France, without any desire to approach the Court, because he doubted if the King and the Quéene Melicia, knewe of his being there, they would stay him longer then he willing­ly would.

Therefore continuing on his way, he entred the kingdome of Nauarre, wherein when these two worthy Knights had tra­uailed two dayes, at length they entred into a faire and goodly Valley, through the middest whereof there ran a pleasant Ri­uer, which had diuerse sorts of trées planted about it, very plea­sant to the beholders. The sight hereof greatly reuiued the pen­siue minde of the Prince Florendos, who could not bridle his thoughts from the remembrance of the Castell of the Giant Almaroll, wherein the Iewell of his happinesse remained, and before whose walles he had spent some part of his youthful time i [...] knightly tryall.

They had not long trauailed in this pleasant Valley, but within a while (to their greater delight) they espied by the Ry­uer side, a strong and well fortified Castell, whereto as they were about to aduance themselues, they beheld a Damosell [Page] (accompanied with two Esquiers who were on foote) prepa­ring herselfe towards them, to méete them: which Florendos perceiuing, and knowing himselfe to be armed if the worst should happen, he gaue forth himselfe nobly to méet them, to whom the Damosell spake after this sort.

Sir knight, the faire Arnalte, Princesse of Nauarre my La­die and Mistresse, commaundeth you, in respect of the daunger that may happen vnto you by this aduenture, that you faile not to accomplish one of these thrée conditions wherewith I shall present you. The first is, that you must returne vnto the place from whence you now came, where you shal sweare, that she is the onely Princesse of beautie in the whole world. Secondly, that you must enter Combat all the way as you ryde, with any that dare maintaine the contrarie. Or if you will not accept of these two conditions, you shall then make promise, that you will neuer beare Armes in any cause, wherein knighthood may be witnessed, or you merite renowne by any such enterprise, neither on the behalfe of any distressed Lady, or in triall of your knightly loyaltie.

Thus Gentlemen, if you cannot put on the minds to satisfie my Ladies will, you must hazard your selues to endure the ma­nifold perils contained within this Valley: wherein, if either your cunning faile you, or the sufficiencie of her noble demaund foile you, you must content your selues to abide perpetuall im­prisonment, wherin nothing will be so bitter vnto you as life, and nothing better vnto you then present death: this is héere prouided for those, who dare endue themselues with the hardi­nesse, to refuse to obey the conditions I haue tolde you. Wher­fore Gentlemen, if you will follow my aduise, I would counsel you to take your oath in maintenance of her beauty, which can no way impeach you of dishonour, or diminish any iote of your knightly valour, considering you shall iustifie nothing but a truth, wherin you can neuer faile, and rid your selues of a great deale of trouble, which surely to knights is an infamous blot: for I assure you, such as fall into the daunger through their owne folly, may well sit and repent their extreme mishaps [...] [...]et no power to remedy their great misfortunes.

[Page] Faire Damosell (aunswered Florendos) I take in verie great disdaine what your Mistresse commaundeth me, in respect of her vaine glorious request, and for that my Knighthood stan­deth vppon better regarde: and this I assure you, that I take lesse pleasure in your counsell, then I dread the perill in con­founding your Ladies claime: this alwaies considered, that her conditions are such, as she may neither demande, nor I defend. Yet to aduantage me the more, I would request, if you would doe me so much fauour as to declare, to what ende this stately enterprise of your Lady tendeth: for it séemeth immodest in her to wil so much, and I should shew my selfe very vnmannerly to thrust my selfe into such vnreuerent seruice.

I promise you sir Knight (aunswered the Damosell) the en­terprise is so full of doubt vnto the hardiest Knightes, as it is conuenient that first we should receiue their oathes, before wée discouer to them the will of the Princesse Arnalte, whereof if they should be acquainted before hand, they would not aduance themselues to promise any thing. And if it chance that my Lady compell them to yéelde by méere constraint, they shall beare but bad estates when they depart out of her hands, because she was so gentle to y [...]quest, and they so daintie in making promise.

Damosell (quoth Florendos) I very well perceiue the scope of your meaning, how with threatning words of ensuing dan­ger, you would bring me like a yong Nouice to that, which your Lady would haue me so gladly performe: but surely I am not so childish as to satisfie her minde, by promising any one of the cōditions you haue rehearsed, for I rather desire to be acquain­ted with ye most difficult dangers, wherewith you séem so much to menace me, and whereto I very willingly giue my consent, rather then I will be so base minded as to accomplish her com­mandement, and so you may depart and tell her. The Damosel with this aunswere returned to the Castell of her Ladie, from whence in short space after, came forth six knights very gallant­ly mounted and armed, and bearing their Launces downward, approched to ye prince Florendos, to whom they deliuered forth these spéeches. Sir knight, it is thought good by our lady and mi­stres, y you should vnderstād at this present, the danger which [Page] the ancient custome vsed in this place, doth bring all Knights into, that dare séeme to denie it, and for that our Lady hath béen so courteous as to demand, and thou so impudent as thou wilt néedes deny, thou shalt well know that we may, can, and will compel thée. Few words and swéet (answered Florendos) your Lady may do much, but not command: you as much, but not compell, and for my selfe, I will neither command nor compell, but bid you hartily welcome to what you dare doe. At these wordes they gaue the spurres to their Horses, and all sixe fetch­ed their carire against the good and hardy Knight Florendos, who likewise prepared himselfe to receiue them couragiously, which in sooth he did with such knightly prowesse, as at the first he depriued one of them of his life, and in short space the other were left destitute of their Lances. Then he began to take hart a fresh, and setled himselfe manfully toward the other fiue, to endure the sharpe charges wherewith they assaulted him. The fight hereof mooued Albayzar to immeasurable griefe, who wished that he were then so happie as to maintaine the cause of that good Knight, for that he would reuenge the iniury which the other vncourteously offered him, and which he perceiued to be so great, as he wished rather to be presently voyd of life, then to want his Armour in such an extremity.

Florendos enuironed on euery side with his enemies, knew not well which way to shun the perril, but the most vnhappiest thing of all, one of the Horses of one of the Knights, gaue him such a cruell stroke, as hee was constrained to fall to the earth. But it was not long before he recouered his feete againe, when presently he tooke himselfe to a Trée, to rescew himselfe a lit­tle from their mallice, which when the Knights perceiued, they deliuered vnto him these spéeches. Syr Knight, this Tree neither can nor shall defend you from our power, and therefore it is very slender helpe for you to trust vnto, wherefore wée iudge it far better to render your selfe to the prison of our Lady and Mistresse, then to suffer so great danger, as we see you in by the great effuse of your blood. I had much rather (answered Florendos) endure the death, making an ample proofe of a no­ble minde, then to render my selfe into the hands of such cruell [Page] and discourteous persons as you are. Wherfore if you be Gen­tlemen, ordare conceiue so good an opinion of hardines in your selues, do me the knightly fauour, as to let me deale with you one after another, which is honesty in me to request, and honor in you to grant. Otherwise, if you be so faint hearted of your selues, as you dare not fight but altogether, then dismount from your horses, and I will shew you how much the vertue and ho­nour of a good knight is esteemed, aboue the brutish manners of the cowardly mind: whereunto one of the Knights presently thus replied.

I sée no reason sir, why you should so much presume on your selfe, in that there is no one of vs, but thinketh himselfe able e­nough, to compell you to submit your selfe. But so little account do we make of the vanquishing you, as we deale with you alto­gether, rather to please the humor of the Princesse Arnalte, thē for any dishability in our selues to quite you man for man. Ne­uerthelesse, séeing you haue such a desire as we should come to you on foote, we are content to giue ouer our horses. Wherupon they presently alighted and came together to assail Florendos, who receiued them very gladly, and behaued himselfe toward them so brauely, as in short time they reputed that they left their horses. For Florendos had not long fought with thē, but he discharged one of them of his life quickly, and continued his deuoir so gallantly with his sword toward the other foure, as one after another, he sent thrée more to kéepe the other com­pany. At length when Florendos had brought the last of them into subiection, and was about to part his head from his shoul­ders, the Princesse Arnalte suddenly came, accompan [...]ed with her domosels, desirous to saue the life of the knight, wherupon she spake to Florendos after this manner.

Sir knight to the end that this great victory which you haue atchéeued, may not call your name into dishonor, by murdring him who hath no power to defend himselfe, I beséech you that you would giue me the life of this knight. And for the discour­tesie you haue suffred by him and his fellows, amends may be made in other maner, for I will put my selfe by way of duty, to acomplish any thing that it shall like you to ordaine, prouided [Page] alwaies, that my honour and authority be no way impeached therby. Madam (answered Florendos) why should life be gran­ted, whē a finger is not to be giuen to such persons, as so much forget their owne honour, to imploy themselues in such vnna­tural attempts: neuerthelesse, your vertuous and honest iesture hath gained so much power ouer me, that I will not refuse to graunt you any thing, conditionally, that you will do me so much honour, as to tel me the reason why you cause to be main­tained this so bad custome.

Sir knight, answered the Princesse Arnalte, fearing that by long staying in this place, your wounds may turne you to grea­ter daunger then you expect, I pray you do me so much fauour as to go with me into my Castle, where, hauing prouided to re­dresse your wounds, as also those which my knight hath recei­ued, I will not faile to answer in what you please. Florendos hauing need to succor himself, by reason of his dangerous fight, would not refuse to agree to the will of the Princesse Arnalte, who caused one of her Damoselles to sée the curing of his wounds, which in sooth were in no greater danger, then that he might easily trauell the day following. After that the Princesse had caused those to bee buried that were slain, she tooke Floren­dos by the hand, and walked with him very chéerfully and plea­santly disposed, which courtesie he held in great reputation, ha­uing made his prowesse so nobly knowne against her Knights. But then as she walked, she began to contemplate the beautie of the Prince Florendos, with very great admiration, where­upon presently came to her remembrance the Prince Florian of the Forrest, which caused a crimson colour to a mount into her chéekes, so that all her face deliuered an amiable blush, which Florendos well noted at the beginning, whereupon hée was donducted by the Princesse to the side of a window, the prospect whereof was ouer a faire running riuer, when she re­ceiued the hardinesse to sprake to him in this manner.

I know wel, sir knight, that the custome of my Castle séemeth vnto you, to be ordained against all reasonable regard: but ha­uing vnderstood for what occasion I maintaine it in this order, you will not be any wayes offended thereat. It is so Sir, that [Page] my Lord my Father leauing me in the custody of sundry noble Gentlemen of this Realme of Nanarre, he desired them at the very houre of his death, that they would sée I should be married to mine owne pleasure & contentment. Attending which time, I withdrew my selfe (to auoyd popular frequentation) into this my Castles, where hauing by Fortune soiourned a while there chanced to arriue here a comely Knight, a most braue, gallant and an honest Gentleman, and and so worthily accom­panied with vertue and prowesse, that my good liking coupled with equall loue, I desired aboue all other to match with him, holding opinion also, in him I should iustly satisfie my Lord and Fathers commandement, ioyning hereunto that I should greatly grace my selfe, and such in sooth was this braue Knight. But he being come from the Castle of the Grant Almorall, was so altered in nature, that he neuer made account of my freendship, refusing altogether mine honest offer, & casting the remembrance of my great good will, into contemptuous and vnkind forgetfulnesse. Whereupon I caused him to be taken and layd in prison, which I did with very kind and tender re­gard, because I saw he was vnarmed, which could promise no security to himselfe, if I should haue showne my extreamest ri­gour.

For Fortune was so happy a friend to him, as she sent an other Knight vnto this place called Florian of the Forrest, whom you do very much resemble, whose behauiour gained such power ouer me, as not onely made me set at liberty this first knight, but that which gréeued me far more, he made me so forgetfull of my selfe, as I suffered him to gather the fruit of my garden, which my honour commanded mée to kéepe with better regard. Furthermore, beside all this, he so farre de­lighted me with his flattery of purpose, as I permitted him to depart, for that he made mee a faithfull promise to return so speedily as it was possible, and then hée would not fayl to come and marry mée. But after that I had attended him a very long time, and saw him not returne according to promise, I con­concluded my selfe to come into this pleasant valley to make [Page] those sweare which professed arms, that they should not break speare, nor put armor on their backs against any other knight, then this onely one, who hath offered me this great despight. And I held this opinion, that any valiant knight happening into this place, whom I could get to maintain, that the beauty of Miragarda, in no respect might be equalled with mine, wold cause Florian (who is curious in searching such hauty aduen­tures) to take the hardines, to come proue against the knight, the contrary, by the aide of whom, I might chance to recouer my long desired Florian of the Forrest. And if that easily my knights might conquer any other knights, they should make them also sweare to maintaine the conditions, which my da­mosell declared vnto you at your first comming.

Many knights fearing the perill, wherein they might fall by comming this way, and not daring to take so hardy an oth vpon them, haue bene glad to returne and not stay here, when as my knights haue come forth, and presented themselues to defend my beauty.

Madame (answered Florendos) I know verie well the knight of whom you speak, and assure your self that very hard­ly shall you bring him into this place, without he list himselfe, in that he is so noble and valiant a knight of Armes, as you can hardly ioyne him with any equall: therefore I pray you, do not greeue your selfe, although, he be forgetfull in satisfy­ing his promise, for I can assure you, that it is not his custome to affect greatly the seruice of Ladies, especially in any amou­rous opinion, or queint conceit of loue. As for your knights, I cannot but yeeld their honest attempt very great commenda­tion, and estéeme likewise very much of them, who aduanced themselues to maintaine your beautie, which in sooth is suffici­ent to binde in seruiceable duty, all those that haue desired to render you sembleable good will and liking. Neuerthelesse, I would perswade you, that hereafter you would not maine­taine this custome, and likewise I would desire you, that you would destow on me such knights as you with hole by impri­sonment, who shalbe able to honor you more by their knightly seruice, being at liberty, then you shal aduantage your selfe by [Page] kéeping them in such seruitude. Sir answered Arnalte, the great honesty wherwith you are accompanied, hath gained such po­wer ouer me, that I cannot sée how I shold reefose, but that I must néeds grant what you desire. But I find my self brought into sundry maruailous extreame passions, for that by your words, you make me altogether out of hope, that I shal recouer againe my Knight: for whose sake I will that the imprisoned knights be deliuered you, and for that you shal be the more cer­taine of my words, I deliuer into your own hands the keys of the prison, which I would not giue into any knights hands in the whole world, but only to you. The prince Florendos had no sooner receiued the keyes, but he deliuered them to y Prince Albayzar who was very desirous to sée the prisoners, wherefore he staied not long, but tooke his way downe into the Castle, with a lighted torch in his hand, for that the dungeon was very déepe, and opening a little Tower, there he found many priso­ners, whereof he knew diuers incontinent, whom he failed not to salute, for that he knew them among the knights at Cō ­stantinople, when he fought the combat there, in mainteuance of the beauty of the faire Princesse Targiana, by means wher­of, they séeing themselues deliuered by him, they knew not wel what to thinke. But when they were come vp into the Castle, and that they perceiued they enioyed their libertie by the means of the Prince Florendos, they failed not to come & humble thē selues at the féete of the young Prince, who knew them all in­continent: to wit, Blandidon, Floraman, Reccamon, & Tene­brant, the presence of whō so greatly reioyce him, as he held it for especiall good fortune, that he came so luckily vnto the ca­stle of the Princes Arnalte, who seeing that the day gaue place vnto the night, and that it was time to haue some refection, cō ­manded her Attendants to couer for supper, for Florendos and the knights who were come forth of prison, to whom the Prin­cesse vsed very stately entertainment, in respect of the honest be­hauiour of the Princes Florendos, which was very deeply im­printed in her heart, considered also, that his great courtesie had bound her to vse such liberality.

CHAP. II.
Of that which happened to the Prince Florendos, after that he departed from the Castle of the Princesse Arnalte.

NOw Florendos stayed all this night in the Castle of the Princesse Arnalte, more at her importunate sute, then vpon his owne voluntary pleasure, for that he well knew, the little coales of enuy kindled on her sto­macke, which she couered with shamefast­nesse and modestie, was farre disagréeable to his curteous nature, by reason whereof, he no sooner discoue­red the cleare and bright day, but he arose and put on his Armor which was much defaced, by reason of his sore fight, & after he was ready to trauel and follow his enterprise, he staied not, but came to take his farewell of the Princesse Arnalte, as also of Blandidon, Tenebrant, and Reccamon, but in no case would he leaue the company of Floraman the prince of Sardignia, because they two liued maruellous affectionate the one of ye oth [...]r, since the time that Armello, the Esquier of Florendos, came & found their solitary kinde of life, so nigh vnto the Castle of the Gi­ant Almaroll. The Princesse Arnalte remained so greatly pas­sionate, for the sudden departure of the Prince Florendos, that she could not admit any thing into minde, but still she receiued thereat very much displeasure: without vsing any remem­brance at all of the Prince Florian of the [...]esart, whom shée had now altogether thrust into forgetfulnesse, and was so sore troubled for want of the presence of the Prince Florendos, as she tooke her farewell of the restored prisoners, to whom (for griefe, she could not vse such gratious behauior, as she had done the day before. Florendos rid certaine dayes in the company of Albayzar and Floraman, when he concluded to trauell to the [Page] Castle of Almaroll, to sée what entertainment the faire Mira­garda would make to the Prince Albayzar, and whether she could now [...]nde (contrary to her former custome) his noble im­ployed seruice agréeable to her curious nature. These thrée knights following their enterprise, they perceiued (after they were entred somewhat within the Realme of Spaine, at the foote of a mountaine, a knight, standing very sadly betwéen two great Oakes, he was armed in blacke Armour, and bare in his Shield a white Bull, in a fielde of Sable, and mounted on a very gallant Courser, so that these thrée Knights conceiued very good opinion of him, and to him they would haue approa­ched, but that suddenly an Esquier stept before them, who ha­uing saluted them very courteously, deliuered his minde after this order.

Gentlemen, the knight (which standeth by these Dakes) gi­ueth you to vnderstand, that he hath enterprised to guarde this passage, in that he hath kept it a lōg time against many knights: not for that he hath desire to offer any knight discourtesie, but onely to satisfie the will of a Lady, to whom he remaineth affec­tionate, loyal, and obedient. Therfore if it may stand with your liking, to grant such things as he will demand, the passage shall be at libertie for you: but if you enterprise to doe the contrary, he will put in triall to make you confesse perforce, that which you cannot reasonably deny or refuse to grant.

Declare vnto vs (quoth the Prince Florendos,) first the wil of thy Master, and soone after we will make thée answere: be­cause very hardly can we determine of the matter whereof we are ignorant, by reason that thou concealest it so closely.

Hee will cause you to confesse (answered the Esquier) that Arnalce the Princesse of Nauarre, is the fayrest creature vn­der heauen, and most worthy of knightly seruice. It séemes to me sayd Albayzar, that we shall find this same knight, who (to shunne the Combate at her Castle) hath accorded and pro­mised to fulfill her impecious conditions. Therefore I iudge it in mine opinion, & for good cause I know it assuredly, that his enterprise is very dangerous, and ought no longer to be main­tained. Let it happen what pleaseth Fortune (sayd Floren­dos) [Page] and afterward turning to the Esquire, he answered him in this order. My friend, you may goe & assure your maister of the Iouste. While the Esquire was busie in spéech to the Prince Florendos, Floraman, no sooner perceiued him to returne to his maister, but he desired Florendos, that he would graunt him the Combate, against the Knight that kept the passage, which re­quest he would not denie him: wherevpon Floraman gaue the spurres to his horse, and ran couragiously against the Knight of the princesse Arnalte, they both encountring together with such great force, that they were both dismounted to the earth, with their héeles vpward, but they recouered themselues promptly, and like good knights set their hands to their swords, wherewith they began to strike one another very daungerous­ly, vsing such knightly dexteritie, as Florendos and Albayzar greatly delighted to behold them.

And for that Floraman was reputed for a good Knight, they were abashed greatly, that any aduantage should happen to the Knight of the Princesse Arnalte, for the loue of whom hée fought very brauely. But that which was most displeasant to Floraman, (who did his dutie like a good and vertuous knight) was, least the Princesse Florendos and Albayzar, shoulde take any euill opinion of him. On the other side, the Knight of the passage thought on the bonde, wherein the loue of the Princesse Arnalte, had tyed him, which did the more harten and encourage him.

These two knights continued Combate so long, that being ouercome with extreame trauaile, they were constrained to re­tire to take breath, the straunge knight reioycing thereat, be­gan to vse this language towardes Floraman. I know Sir knight, that you might better breake your will and saue your life, then be depriued of them both: for when you shall come to confesse, that the Princesse Arnalte, is the fayrest Lady aliue, you shall not be any iote spared by fauour, alwayes considered, that you shall but confesse the truth. If I did consent to thy will (answered Floraman) I should maintaine a thing farre be­yond any dutie: for in how much Arnalte is faire and worthy to bée serued, by so much the rather thou makest me to thinke, [Page] that the world enioyeth some such, to whom she is not in any thing to be compared, for that diuine beautie hath made them so singular faire, as the Princesse of Nauarre may in no wise be equalled with them. And on the other side, I haue in time past loued a Lady my selfe, in respect of whom, (the whole world being filled with the report of her prayse) I will rather die, then accord to the presumption thou wouldest haue me con­fesse.

Floraman had no sooner concluded his spéech, but they retur­ned a fresh to y Combat, charging one another more suriously then they had done before, so that it could not be iudged, whe­ther the one had any aduantage of the other, or who was like­lyest to win the victory, they maintained the sight so brauely. But in the end, the Knight that kept the passage, beganne by a little and a little to feele that feeblenesse somewhat assailed him, and that stroke by stroke his word turned in his hand, and his Armour was broken in many places, and likewise the Armour of Floraman was in no better case then his enemies, but he fol­lowed his strokes more wisely, and dealt so gallantly at this second charge, that once againe they were constrained to retire.

Floraman, who was accompanied with such gratious gifts, as imbraceth the heart of a vertuous Prince, would proue if he might possible chaunge the Knight from his fonde opinion: Whereupon he spake to the Knight in this maner.

Sir Knight, you sée very well that your enterprise is not truth, according as you haue iudged it in conceit, wherefore I pray you to confesse, that there are many Ladies in the world, whose beautie the Princesse Arnalte may no way paragon. I know well Sir, (sayd the Knight of the passage) that the weakenesse where into you sée me brought, giueth you the har­dinesse to vse me with such perswasions of reproofe: but so it is, that I am so greatly affectionate towards the Princesse Ar­nalte, as I haue deliberated with my selfe to sustaine y death, before I will graunt to that which you say. When he had deli­uered the end of his purpose, he charged Floraman afresh, who in short time laide him along on the ground, whereat Floren­dos and Albayzar was somewhat afraid, to sée him brought in­to [Page] to such daunger, wherefore quickly they opened his Helmet, but when they had beheld him a while, they knewe him to be Syr Albanis of Frise, the Prince of Denmarcke, the sight of whom made Floraman very pensiue, for that he bare him maruellous good will.

Florendos and Albayzar conducted these two Combattants, into the house of a knight, whose abode was neare to the moun­taine, and as they walked together, they demanded of Albanis of Frise, vpon what occasion he enterprised to gard the passage. Worthy Gentlemen (answered Albanis) I will not defer to tell you the sum of your desire, aduertising you, that Fortune guided me one day into the Valley, where the Princesse Arnal­te maketh her present abode, & I was so rauished in beholding her beautie, that I remained her vowed seruant in good will, wherevpon she put to me three conditions, how I should ap­prooue against all wandering Knights, and maintaine it by my prowesse, that she was the fairest Princesse in the world, as­suring you that I came into this place, rather for the desire I had to doe seruice to the princesse of Nauarre, then for any feare I had of her six Knights.

But now my desteny is so farre vnfortunate, that I am fal­len into the hands of Sir Floraman, which hath made me loose the hope, that till this houre I entertained. They which make profession of Armes (saide Florendos) ought not to be abashed when any misfortune befalles them, and I assure you that Ar­nalte is a Princesse which merriteth very much, yet not so much as many others haue deserued, who are farre aduantaged aboue her, therefore I wish you Sir Albanis, to thanke God, who caused you to fall into the hands of your friendes, perswa­ding yourselfe, that we would be loath to sée you any way in­iured.

Continuing this talke, they arriued at the house of the Knight, who receiued them very gladly, for that he was accusto­med to lodge all wandering Knightes, and such diligent at­tendance was vsed, that in short time the woundes of Alba­nis were méetly healed, and certaine daies he was accompanied by the Prince Florendos, who was attached with vnmeasura­able [Page] griefe, for the desire he had to finde the Castle of Almarol. Yet he dissembled his griefe as much as he could possible, and forced himselfe to mirth to gratifie his friendes, as it is a wise mans part, to forget his sad and melancholike affections, to content those persons with whom he is ioyned in friendship.

CHAP. III.
How the Damosell of the Princesse of Thrace, arriued at the Court of the Emperour Palmerin. And of that which hap­pened to the Knight of the Tiger.

THis Historie maketh mention, how the Emperour was in the Empresse chamber, accōpanied with the worthiest lords of his Empire, when as the Damosell of Thrace chanced to enter the Court, which séemed to her much changed, because she saw not the Knights which were accustomed to bée about the Emperor, at whose féete she failed not to humble her selfe incontinent, but hée caused her to be taken vp presently, and to be entertained with very gracious behauiour, then hée desired to vnderstand how all things happened to his Nephew Palmerin of England, in the aduenture he vndertooke for Leo­narda the Princesse of Thrace, the naming of whom, caused the Princesse Polinarda to giue a most swéet and delicate blush in her face, in whose presence the Damosell of Thrace began to vse her language after this manner.

If I should rehearse to your Maiestie; the most Knightly prowesse of your noble Nephew, I should find my selfe ouer­throwne in a great perplexity, for that I know his worthy déedes are reserued to bee deliuered, by one of more prompt and discréete memorie then my selfe. Neuerthelesse, to discharge the [Page] great bond of Friendship, wherein his Princely courtesie hath so straitly bound mee, I will report what I haue séene, during the time he was in my companie, which when hee tooke occasi­on to leaue, he went to the place where the Princesse Leonar­da was Enchaunted: and where hee witnessed such Knightly valour, as will render to his Name perpetuall honour, hauing finished an aduenture so straunge and admirable. The whole discourse whereof, the Damosell deliuered in circumstance to the Emperour, giuing him to vnderstand, the hard causes of di­stresse, eftsoones offered to the knight of the Tiger. But when she came to report the manner of his passing the Lake, where­with the Isle was compassed about, the daunger of the Boate, and the fashion how it was drawn with the Cord, the Ladyes that were present, remained so mightily ouercome with griefe, as the swéet and delicate colour, wherewith their diuine Faces were most plentifully endued, began very sadly to alter, think­ing on the great perills which the Noble Palmerin of England had passed, putting his life to such extreame points of hazard, for the deliuerie of the Princesse Leonarda.

I haue heard reported (said the Emperour) many strange Aduentures, and haue knowne some worthily atchieued in my time, but I neuer heard in all my life of any so perillous as this: for I know well that the imagination of the King Sardamant, was very farre different to any other Kings. But well I per­ceyue, that the Prowesse of Palmerin, excelleth very farre the valour of all other Knights: for I assure you, that as yet I ne­uer saw the Knight that might be equalled with him, without great impeachment, or that could finde the meane to discharge so great daungers.

After that the Damsell had sufficiently set to sale, the praise of the thrise noble Palmerin, in the eares of so many gratious per­sonages, she changed her talke after this manner. To him that hath thus woorthily deserued, I did bestowe my vttermost en­deuor, to bring him within the compasse of affection to the prin­cesse Leonarda, whose good minde was altogether placed on the entertainement into her Princely Fauour, the Knight of such a hautie disposition. But as it séemeth to me, he is either alto­gether [Page] blinded in his owne conceite, or else his heart of affectio­nately placed on some other person: for I assure you, he made no account of the Crowne of Thrace, bnt did flatly refuse it, as also to espouse the Princesse Leonarda, who was brought into his presence, by the principall noble Gentlemen of the Court, according as it was ordained by the Testament of King Sar­damant her Grandfather. By reason whereof, the Lords re­quested the Quéene Carmelia, that shee would send to your highnesse their Princesse, to remaine in the company of the Princesse Polinarda, (your Neece, and the Daughter of the prince Primaleon) as also of other noble ladies, wherwith your renowned Court is plentifully enriched, whose gratious con­uersation may not onely entertaine the heart of Leonarda, with the precious dignitie of vnspotted vertue, but also by imi­tating their honourable examples, she may the more highly be estéemed in the acceptable fauour of such noble personages, as preferre the renowne of Ladies, with the felicitie of their owne life.

The Prince Palmerin very well liked of the intent of the Queene Caemelia, by meanes whereof she doth humbly desire, that it might so stand with your Highnesse pleasure, as not to make deniall of this request to her, seeing you haue not hitherto re [...]ed the entertainement of any, in the fulfilling whereof, she shall estéeme herselfe and her whole Kingdome, perpetually bound to your excellency. And because your highnes may esteem of the greater truth, what I haue made report of, she comman­ded me to present your Maiesty with this her letter of credite, wherein full well you shall perceiue the residue of her pleasure: may it like your highnesse to pardon this blunt discourse of an vneloquent maiden.

The Emperour very gratiously receiued the letter, which when he had perused, he thus framed his answer to the Da­mosell. Vertuous and sage Lady, I not onely pittie the great paiue you haue suffered in trauelling thus farre, but also giue you thanks for such a good endeuour, not forgetting to honour you with bountifull courtesie, for the good newes you haue brought me of my Nephew Palmerin, in regard of whom, [Page] both his Princely deserts, and my vttermost requitall, which is but his duty, I desire of God my power may stretch so farre, to requite you according as you haue worthily merited.

And for the Lady, the regard of whom caused my nephew, to hold so small estimation of the Princesse Leonarda, I know her care is beyond iudgement, in deuising by what meanes she might gaine the power, to requite a cause of so great honour. And where you desire I would yéeld my consent, that the prin­cesse Leonarda, might come to remaine in my Court, assure your selfe, that I am well contented, and thinke my selfe high­ly honoured by such a request. And the better to declare how gratefull I accept her comming hither, and how thankfull I would be for your great trauaile, I giue to you the countie of Salin, which by reason of the death of the county Arlae, remai­neth vacant, he not hauing left any heirs to repossesse the same. The Damosell presently threw her selfe at the Emperors féet, offering to kisse his hand, in signe of her thankfull mind, but he sustained her in his armes very graciously, which he was not accustomed to do to any stranger, yet such was the estimation he had of her.

The damosell behaued her selfe in the same manner of duty to the Empresse, as also toward the Prince Primaleon, and Gridonia, but they (to witnesse their beneuolent mindes, and the honour wherewith they would entertaine such a fréendly guest) by their great intreaty and courtesie made stay of her humble offer, whereupon she returned to the Emperour, and deliuered her mind these words.

I can hardly withhold my selfe at this instant (my gra­tious Lord) being so desirous as I am, to vnderstand of the cou­ragious mind of the Prince Palmerin, both in dealing, and escaping from a Tiger so hideous and fearefull, as also being so happy to end such an aduenture: but your gracious fauour is so agréeable to my desirous thoughts, and so plentifull in mea­sure beyond my poore demerits, that I shall leaue the report thereof in your highnesse memory, till such time as I returne with the Princesse Leonarda: for I assure your Maiesty, that my heart is vnspeakeably satisfied with pleasure, in that I shall [Page] spéede so well, as to be resolued by your excellencie, in the thing I haue so long time wished for. Wherefore most humbly I de­sire you that I may depart, for the desire I haue, to enforme the Princesse Leonarda, of your gratious fauour, causeth me to iudge euery day a yeare, till I haue in this cause fulfilled my dutie.

Faire Damosell (answered the Emperour) it should like me very well, if you made your abode here still with me in my Court: but for that I perceiue your great desire, to returne with answer of your thankfull message, I wish to you: as to my selfe, in the whole course of your iourney. The Damosell humbly tooke her leaue of the Emperour, and all his company, and came to the Chamber of the Princesse Polinarda, who had secretly withdrawne her selfe, to reueale to Dramaciana her waiting Gentlewoman, the good opinion her hart had sudden­ly conceiued of those ioyfull tidings: so then with her a while the damosell kept company, when presently she beganne to coniecture, that it was the beautie of this Princesse which had caused the Prince Palmerin, to refuse the gouernement of Thrace.

The Princesse Polinarda, very modestly began to question with the Damosell of euery particular chance that had happe­ned to the knight of the Tiger, for whose sake she honoured the Damosel with very Princely courtesie, and she desired her that shee would bee the Messenger of her vnfayned good will to the Princesse Leonarda, whome shee would not willingly should stay, but come vnto the Court presently. The Damosell made promise to performe euery thing to the vttermost, so, departing from the Princesse, she went through the palace to her ledging, where she locked vp the honourable Presents, which the Em­presse and Gridonia had (since her comming) sent vnto her: so hauing all things in readinesse, shee departed, farre more Rich and more ioyfull then she was before.

The Damosell wee intend to leaue in her iourney, because we will returne to the Noble and renowmed Knight of the Ti­ger, who after hée departed from the kingdome of Thrace, tooke the straightest way that hee could possibly chuse, to bring him [Page] vnto Constantinople, wherto when he drew somewhat neare, by chance one day hee arriued in a very great Forrest, which was farre from any houses or resort of people, and likewise the Trées much defaced and spoyled, so that it séemed a wast and desolate wildernesse. Ryding along very sad and pensiue in minde, he heard the trampling of a great many horses, and ca­sting his eye that way where he heard the noyse, he espied ten or twelue Knights very well armed, crossing ouerthwart the Forrest. Wherevpon, he gaue his horse the spurres (being de­sirous to doe them seruice, if so be they had néede to vse his aide) and followed them that way they rode, when in short time he ouertooke one of their company, who could not so spéedily iour­ney as the other did, by reason that his horse had receiued an at­taint in one of his legges, with this Knight, Palmerin desired friendly to conferre, which made him vse his spéeches in this maner.

I desire you Sir, if I may demand so bold a request of you, as to report vnto me the cause, why these Knights iourney so spéedily, and whither they goe through this vnfrequented For­rest. I know well Sir (answeeed the strange Knight) that their enterprise doeth not concerne you in any thing, there­fore is it as néedelesse to tell you, as you haue small occasion to demand of their purpose, but for that I sée your acquaintance with the cause, can neither impeach them with your mallice, nor pleasure them with your aide, I am content to resolue you in what you request.

You shall vnderstand Sir, that thrée leagues distance from this place, there is a Lady, a very courteous creature, remai­ning in a strong and well fortefied Castle, who hath a daughter of most exquisite perfection in beautie, with whom a Knight of this Countrey, named Felistor, is very desirous to marrie, but her Lady mother will not suffer to be so bestowed, hauing al­ready giuen her to be espoused, to another rich Gentleman of this Countrey, named Radimar, wherefore the Lady and her daughter haue consented with this Gentleman, to goe vnto a Castle of his owne, where they will secretely knit vp their determinate purpose, and deceiue the long and laboursome ex­pectation [Page] of Felistor. But being aduertised of their close intent, hath determined to hazard his Fortune in the extreamest dan­ger, either to hinder them, & helpe himselfe, or to leaue the con­quest in a doubtfull estate. And he that may the better preuaile, if fortune darken not the Sun-shine of his good hap, he hath pla­ced a secret ambushment in a little wood, by which, the Lady and her daughter must of necessitie passe, & hauing giuen strait charge to them in ambush, that the life of Radimar be put to the swoord, as soone as they may lay hands on him, for that the coun­tenance of him is a blemish to his earnest intent, he will then marry the Damosell, in despight of any dare say the contrary. And because this marriage may be the better accomplished, I am to assist him with my company, onely for the good wil which I vnfainedly beare him, but Fortune is very contrary in fa­uour to me, for that my horse bath taken suddainly an attaint, whereby I shall hazard the breach of my promise, which would no more dislike my friend, then it will be grieuous to me, if so it would happen.

To preuent the worst therefore, I pray you Sir to thinke so well of me, as to lend me your horse, and to content your selfe in meane time, with that whereon your Esquire rideth, and he I iudge will take mine in good part, which courtesie will cause me (in place where I haue power answerable to my will) not to forget such a fauourable pleasure.

Truely Sir (answered Palmerin) I sée well if I should doe you so great a pleasure, you are bent to vse my gift in a deede of greater dishonour, for that it better standeth with your cre­dite, to defend the cause of a distressed Lady, then to be an in­strument whereby her honour may receiue such disgrace, and therefore as I found you, I leaue you, being so desirous to be with your companions, as I cannot at this time stay to make you any other answere, and so he poasted to ouertake Felistor, which the strange Knight perceiuing, presently entred into these spéeches.

Alas fond foole, thou makest ouer much hast to entertaine thine owne misfortune, in that the simplest of them before thée, is able sufficient to teach thée and thy fellowe your duties, [Page] but I wish that so soone as my companions, haue giuen due chastisement to she pride wherewith thou art fondly accompa­nied, thy horse may fall to my share, as well to teach thée what thou oughtest haue done at my courteous request, as also that I may discharge my promise made to my fréend.

The knight of the Tiger had attained such length of ground, that he vndestood, not the presumptuous language of the strange knight, but yet he once looked back, whereby he gaue him to know, that ye hauty disposition of an aduenturous mind, is not to be moued at the fearefull foreshew of supposed dan­ger, where contrariwise, the cowardldy wretch estéemeth euery flaw a tempest, and a little motion of mischance, the vtter ouer­throw of all his soueraigntie.

The noble Palmerin of England pursued these Knights so long, that he was ouercharged with the gloomy fogge of night, so that he could not perceiue how to follow them any further by the trackes of their horses, by reason whereof he was con­strained to alight, when he gaue his horse to his Esquire, enten­ding to repose himselfe so well as he could in this desolate place, vntill Aurora faluted him with her beautifull countenaunce. But in vaine did he bestow his labour, to take his rest in the desti­ned houres of sléepe, for the earnest desire he had to defend the cause of the iniuryed Ladie, would not suffer him so much as to close his eyes.

Wherefore the day began no sooner to péepe, but he caused Siluian to bridle the horses, when presently he tooke the way which Felistor and his company had passed before but when he could set no eye on them, he beganne to be very gréeuously mooued, imitating them, which can enioy no quietnesse of mind till they haue deliuered the innocent from their cruell oppres­sors, which among all the déeds of knighthood, beareth the lar­gest title of honour.

CHAP. IIII.
Of that which happened to the knight of the Tiger, against those that were in ambush to take the Damosell.

THe valiant knight of the Tiger so long pursued the search of the knights, that he had almost spent one halfe of the day, in the meane while Felistor had knowledge giuen him by his secret spies, that the La­dy and her daughter were set forth on their way, & in their company foure good knights with whom when Felistor met, so cruell was the conflict be­twéene them, as in the short time the foure kuights were al slaine, and he hauing taken the Lady and her daughter, returned that way from whence they came, and Palmerin seeing he could not haue a sight of them, turned againe, & met with the knight whom he had talked with all before, who to the Prince de­liuered these words.

I see well sir knight, that either you haue great desire to méet with my companions, or else such suddaine kindnesse is come vpon you, that you returne to lend me your horse, which I will not now receiue, because I will not be so much beholding to you whereto the knight of the Tiger answered.

Trust me sir you do much mistake me, and ouer fondly de­ceiue your selfe, I intend you not so much fauour, nor shall you be indebted to me for so much fréendship, but if you had a horse better then mine, I would do my good will to borrow him of you whether you would or no, because I would follow the intent I haue entreprised, to giue aide to those, whose ne­cessity requires my helpe. I cannot chuse but laugh (said the strange knight) in that I perceiue you haue fayled of your [Page] way, and spent the whole night to no purpose, onely for the de­sire you haue to méete with Felistor, whom now I perceiue comming hitherward, hauing with him the Lady whom he entended to espouse: now sir shall you haue leysure enough at this present time to fulfill your wish, if your stomacke so serue you.

Palmerin perceiuing the knight told the truth, he caused Siluian to gird his horse well, clasped fast his helmet, and not fearing what danger might happen to him, prepared him­selfe to salute the troupe as they came, the first whereof was Felistor, who hauing the Damosell by the arme, made great protestation of his amorous good will, but she rid wéeping ve­ry bitterly, and so did the good Lady her mother. Sixe knights were in company with Felistor, and foure more he had caused to stay in the Ladies Castle: so when Palmerin had suffici­ently viewed them all, he came to comfort the Ladies in this manner.

Faire Ladies, your teares are so gréeuous for me to behold, and your present danger hath conquered me with such surpas­sing pittie, as I must aduenture my life for your deliuery, when I will either purchase your former quietnesse, or leaue my life to content your enemies: yet haue I often heard, that small force will serue to chastise those persons, that haue no regard to their owne honour, because being confounded in their enuious stomacke, by their owne disloyall actions, they containe so lit­tle manhood, as the report of knightly dignitie, being but laide before them, no brauer conquest, then their owne manifest dis­grace.

Felistor hearing the Knight of the Tiger, to vse such braue language, became so offended with himselfe, as he had not the power to make any answere, but in the middest of his choller, without remembring to arme his head, he began fiercely to as­saile the Knight of the Tiger, who saluted Felistor with such a friendly blowe on the head, as hée cleft it downe to his shoul­ders, and valiantly addressing himselfe to the other Knights, he behaued him [...]elfe with most maruellous prowesse. The Da­mosell séeing the Prince in so great danger, and fearing hée [Page] would hardly escape their hands, gaue her Palfrey the bridle, and so rode solitarily musing along the forrest, which the knight of the Tiger perceiuing, began very much to gréeue at: neuer­thelesse, so valiantly he dealt with the other knights, as when he had slaine thrée of them, the rest tooke themselues presently to flight, whereupon the knight (whose horse was attainted with trauell, and who had so pleasantly iybed with the Prince) came and humbly yéelded himselfe, desiring that he would not remember what discourteous words had passed from him, whereupon the knight of the Tiger (according to his courteous nature) did very gently entertaine him.

The Lady séeing her enemies so happily vanquished, recei­ued in her heart vnspeakeable ioy, but when she looked about, and could not sée her daughter, her ioy was presently amated with sorrow: wherefore that she might the better recouer her againe, she came and fell downe before the knight of the Tiger, giuing him most humble thankes for his so noble succour, and desiring if it might so please him, as to lend her his assistance, till she had found her daughter, for whose absence she remained more oppressed with gréefe, then she was before, being in the danger of her cruell enemies.

Madame (quoth the knight of the Tiger) you should attribute the honour of this victory, to the misfortune of your vnkinde ad­uersaries, in that such as they do alwaies receiue recompence, according as the wickednesse of their liues deserueth, for diuine iustice will not suffer them to escape vnpunished, who are care­lesse in cōmitting such heinous offences. As for your daughter I iudge her to be within this Forrest, therfore it is good that we trifle no time in vaine, but hastily besturre our selues in the pre­sent search of her: for I promise you I will not leaue you, till I haue safely deliuered her into your owne security, whereto the Lady replied.

I sée well Sir knight, that both vertue and magnanimitie shineth brauely in your noble heart, and I would that my poore power were of sufficiencie, to requite your princely boun­tie: neuerthelesse, I trust that God will repay your good de­serts, which I am farre vnable to do at this present, yet will [Page] I remaine all my life time dutifull in good will, to shewe what acceptable thankes I can, at your noble commaunde­ment.

Thus the Lady concluding her spéeches, the Knight of the Tiger, Siluian, and the Lady, rode on which way they iudged the Damosell had taken, but they iourneyed all that day, and most part of the night, yet were they neuer the nearer their pur­pose: and it is not to be maruailed why she should stray so far, for that the feare she had, least her honour should be impeached, caused her to take those occasions vpon her, which in her iudge­ment might best preserue it.

They hauing thus trauailed very late, they were constrai­ned to alight to ease their horses, which Siluian did presently vn­bridle, that they might refresh themselues in the Pasture: then gaue he to his Lord and the sorrowfull Lady, such prouision for their sustenance as he carried with him, wherewith they suf­ficed themselues so well as they could, for that they knewe in such a desolate place, it were very strange to looke for courtly dainties.

Faire Auba had no sooner deliuered the faire morning in sight, but they presently mounted on horsbacke, and rode about the whole Forrest, yet not finding her they so gladly looked for, which made the Lady conceiue so great griefe, as the Knight of the Tiger by no perswasion could appease: wherefore he de­sired her to goe to her Castle, in that it was vnfit for her to take such vnaccustomed paines, wherewith (with much adoe) at last she consented: then they rode to her Castle, where they arriued about the Euening, but the entrance thereof was gar­ded with the foure knights, which Felistor had giuen charge to remaine there. This began a fresh to vexe the Lady, first to sée her daughter so vnhappily lost, and then to be forbidden the en­trance into her own house, these two extreames mouing many other passions, caused her to repute her selfe, as the vnhappiest vnder the Sunne.

The Knight of the Tiger, séeing the Lady in so great af­fliction, beganne to flatter the eyes of the Knightes, with showes of most gratious behauiour as it is the custome among [Page] aduenturous mindes, to dissemble their intents with deuises, of amiable conceit, which sometime preuaileth more in pollicie, then déedes that manifest knightly power. And so it fortuned, that the Knights of Felistor came to receiue them, for they be­ing so many, made them so venturous: but their chiefest intent was to haue murthered the knight of the Tiger, and then to ca­ry backe the Lady with them.

But herein they found themselues greatly deceiued, for the Knight of the Tiger, perceiued no sooner the bride to bee let downe, but he entred thereon, and beganne very valiantly to charge these foure knights, who setled themselues altogether a­gainst him, and one of them began to vse these words. I perceiue well Sir Knight, that your great folly will be an occasion of the present ending of your life, which séeing you are wilfully come to séeke, we will deliuer you answerable paiment to your bold enterprise. These words the Knight of the Tiger, nothing at all regarded, but dealt so roughly with them, as two of them were quickly dispatched of their liues, and their fellows fearing least they should be brought into like estate, cast downe their wea­pons, and yéelded themselues.

The Lady séeing this happy successe, alighted and entred in­to her Castle, greatly abashed at the noble bountie of the Knight of the Tiger, and sorrowfull beside, because she knewe not how to recompence so great courtesie. And as she stood con­sidering the no small danger he sustained, to deliuer her out of the hands of Felistor, and his company, she beheld her daughter comming, conducted by fiue Knights, who were in a certaine Tent, wherto in her straying she happened to come. When the Damosell was gone into the Castle to her mother, and that these Knights beheld the blood of those slaine Knightes before their faces, they were attached with such a sudden feare, as they would very gladly haue béene further thence.

But the Lady (who perceiued the cause of their dismaying) went to them incontinent, and hauing imbraced them, desired that they would not suffer any cause of doubt to arise, but that they would shewe their thankefull mindes to the Knight of the Tiger, who had deliuered her out of so great danger. Here­vpon [Page] they humbly went and saluted the prince, who kept them company there the space of eight daies, at the end whereof he departed thence, taking his iourny toward the place, where his heart desired to be.

CHAP. V.
Of that which happened to the Knight of the Sauage man, af­ter he departed from the Court of the Emperour Vernar.

BEcause it is a long time since our History hath made any mentiō, of the noble knight Florian of the Desart, we will now leaue the Tiger, in his way to Costantinople, and returne to the Prince Florian, who be­ing departed from the Court of the Empe­rour Vernar, in gréene guilt Armour, and bearing in his shield a Sauage man, leading two Lions in a siluer field, euen according as he did, be [...]ore he was knowne to be sonne of the Prince Don Edward, pursued the intent of his hauty desire, for during the time he carried this strange de­uise, he atchieued as honourable exploits, as euer did any, euen as the first part of this History hath largely made mention.

This braue knight, seeing the places of most famous aduen­tures. Fortune conducted him into the realme of Ireland, euen to the place where he nobly woon the Castles of [...]he thrée Si­sters, who were the daughters of the Marquesse Beltamor, but these Castles were now in the custody of others, who were vtterly vnknowne to the knight of the Sauage man, by rea­son whereof, he was constrained to lodge in the Cell of an an­cient Hermit, who discoursed vnto him, how the two brothers [Page] of the Giant Calsurnien, were within those Castles, one of them being named Brocalon, the other Baleato, that had long time béene nourished in the Profound Isle, with their mother Collambra, and by whom they were giuen to vnderstand, what great misfortune had happened to the giants Calfurnien and Camboldam of Murcela, their brethren, for the losse of whom (contrary to their will and mother) they armed them­selues like good and hardy Knights, vewing to take vengeance on them, who had so much defaced their noble stocke,

And that they might the sooner execute their bloody enterprise they embarqued themselues in a Galley, hauing in their com­pany other knights of their linage, and at length landed on this coast of Ireland, where (long before it was known to any) they were Lords of the Castles of the thrée Sisters, as also of that which belonged to their brother the Giant, putting all to the Sword that they found within those Castles, and forti­fied thēselues with very great strength, lest they should chance by any meanes to be assayled.

The knight of the Sauage man, could suffer the Hermit pro­céed no further in his tale, but he must néedes demand this question of him. I pray you good Father do so much as resolue me in one thing, do not these Giauts vse to come forth of their Castles, to walke for their delight along this Forrest? Cer­tainly Sir (answered the Hermit) I would be loth to resolue you in this demand, for such a question séemeth to me, to ma­nifest an earnest desire in you, to offer the combate to these Giants, which I would be sorry you should do, in that the meanest of them is of abilite to resist thrée of the best knights in this realme. Therefore I desire you, if your affection be bent that way, that at my request you would bridle it within li­mits of regard, and to remember, that it is dishonour to a noble mind, to adenture his life more wilfully then wisely, and yet to couer my intent vnder the title of seeking renowne, and I must iudge him altogether voyde of Knightly regard, which sées the danger to be beyond his compasse, and yet will desperately throw himselfe into the hazard: trust me, no pit­tie, if such a one be well corrected. Wherefore good Sir, to [Page] auoide the worst that may happen to you, I desire you to let no such minde remaine in you, but that you would witnesse your valour in those occasions, which may represent more hope of victory, and séeme of better equalitie with your Knightly force, for in doing otherwise, you shal cause any good minde to thinke, that desperate hope hath rather conducted you hither, then any carefull aduise, which way to returne victor from these Giants. And it is their woont to walke abroade in the mornings, when, here they murther one, there, they villeinously mangle ano­ther, hauing sworne to continue this crueltie, vntill they can meete with the two Sonnes of the Prince Don Edward, on whom their intents is to be famously reuenged, for that their Brethren were slaine by their hands.

I perceiue Father (said the Knight of the Sauage man) that you make no conscience in condemning those, who aduenture then liues to redeeme the wretches estate, of poore Soules sup­pressed by such cruell tyranny, for if you remember your selfe, Armour ought not to be borne by any, but onely such as imploy their pains to succor those, who are no way able to shield them­selues, and the order of Knighthood is giuen vs to this end, not that we should faint at a shadow, or be conquered by wordes, before we see the deedes, wherefore father, perswade your selfe, that Fortune shal no sooner present me with the occasion, but I will put my hap in aduenture.

At these words the aged Hermit began to shed teares, to sée that he could not remooue him from his determination, neuer­thelesse, he laboured still in perswasion, but his paines was be­stowen to small purpose, for he was not so full of intreatie, as the other was resolutely bent, so, they passed away the night in friendly communication. In the morning Florian was pre­paring himselfe to depart, at what time he heard a great noyse without the Cell, when going to the doore, he espied a Damosel came hastely riding, and she seeing the Knight of the Sauage man, came vnto him for succour, in that she was egerly pursued by the Giant Brocalon, who was in same white Armour, and well mounted on a lustie Courser, from which he alighted, spea­king thus to the Damosell.

[Page] I sée well Damosell, that you haue taken a place of small as­surance to your selfe, for that your knight will deliuer you into my hands, which if he should not doe, he should presently per­ceiue the estate of my displeasure, whereto the knight of the Sa­uage man thus answered. Trust me Syr, you are deceiued as farre as I can perceiue, for here is none that oweth you dutie, much lesse any that will stand in feare of you: and I doubt not, but the disloyall tyrannie which thou vsest, shall well enough be tempered, ere thou and I part. These wordes caused a sore Combate betwéene them, the brauery whereof much delighted the aged Hermit, who still prayed for good successe to happen to the Knight of the Sauage man, but so gallantly did hee conti­nue the fight, that the Giant was enforced to take a breathing, which was very acceptable to the Prince, in that his Shielde was greatly defaced, and himselfe surcharged with very much trauaile, but yet he was in farre better state then the Giant, who séeing his blood trickle downe his Armour so fast, began to vse these spéeches.

How comes it to passe, that one Knight hath the power to preuaile so much against me? Certainly I feare me, that the hope I haue alwayes had, to vanquish those Knights that slew my Brethren, by this one Knight will be brought into some doubt, yet if I must néedes end my life, I had rather it might be at one of their handes, for that their valour carrieth so large commendation, then by this Knight, who is vtterly vnknown to me.

Thus concluding, he began to charge the Knight of the Sa­uage man with very rough and forcible strokes, who not­withstanding, so duly awaited his oportunitie, as at length he brought his enemie vnder his subiection, when taking off his Helmet, he presently parted his head from his shoulders, the sight hereof was no small ioy to the aged Hermit, as also to the Damosell, who came and humbled her selfe to the Prince in this manner.

It is vnpossible for me Sir Knight, to render you thanks ac­cording to your worthy deserts, neuerthelesse, I will report such laudable language of your Knightly déedes, in the Court [Page] of Vernar the Emperor of Allameigne (whither at this pre­sent I direct my course) as your Fame shall remaine in conti­nuall memory. And very gladly would I bee acquainted with your name, which I the more earnestly desire for two causes, the one, that I might the more exactly discourse your noble valour, to the amazement of all other that cannot de­serue so well, the other, that I might know the noble Gentle­man, whose gratious bountie I might repay with my contiuu­all prayers.

Faire Damosell (quoth the Prince) if you desire to knowe my name, that I may doe you seruice to the vttermost of my power, I will declare it vnto you, rather for that cause then a­ny other, but I assure you, my déedes are of so small estimati­on, as credite me, you may more worthily cast into discounte­nance, then giue them any such praise as it hath pleased you to vtter. And let it not séeme in your eares, as an vnaduised spéech, which at this present of necessitie I must disclose, be­cause mine eye and my heart haue tasted both on fierie Plan­net, but rather let it obtaine such an acceptable opiniō of beliefe in your modest thoughts, as, I remaining captiue, and at your mercy, may finde you as ready to pittie me, as your beauty was to wound me, vpon these spéeches the Hermit tooke occasion to begin thus.

Sir Knight, it is a déepe point of wisedome to flée the subtill temptatiō of beautie, which is not so glorious in the eye, as it is grieuous in the heart, nor so swéete in conceite, as it is sower in triall, the reason is, for that iealouzie, frenzie, beggerie, murder, with many other mischiefs, are always waiting on her as yok­fellowes. You haue already escaped one extreame danger, and now are like to fall into a more greater, for the one could haue béene but hnrtfull to the body, the other hangeth more waity on the soule, remember this my son, for thy fall will be as grieuous to me, as to thy selfe.

Father (said the Prince) Beautie is so familiarly welcome into the eyes of all men, as you sée they haue no power to escape from her, and her delights so agréeable in their hearts likewise, as were they of flint, she would mooue affection, euen [Page] so, if you did but contemplate the heauenly grace of this beauti­full Damosell, you could not otherwise chuse, but offer your selfe as her humble seruant, which if you did refuse to doe, I should perswade my selfe, that good nature had altogether for­saken you, as also I might iudge him very colde in kindnesse, that could not be moued by such a forcible motion.

I see well (quoth the Hermit) that the pleasure of the flesh, makes thee forgetfull of the health of thy soule, wherefore, I will pray that thou maiest be conuerted in time, least thou féele the punishment of thy follie, when it will be too late for thée to helpe thy selfe: whereto the Prince answered thus.

I pray you Father tell me, can you conquere these earthly delights, when you sit wresting many matters in your Study? Or wil the looking on your booke, abate the secret inflamations of your heart? I haue heard of many of your calling and profes­sion, that haue laboured to kill that in other, which (for all their learning) hath quickned in themselues, and by seeking to draw a throne out of anothers heele, haue prickt themselues therwith to the very heart: tush father, be religious in reason, I haue seen an olde Billet burne fresher, then a young Bauen, and you (for all your holinesse) if I should inueigh against the secret delight of Loue, would take me for an heretique: but it is good that I argue, to shew my folly, and that you allow not, to declare your wisedome. Well (quoth the Hermit) I will betake my selfe to my Oratorie, and you to your youthfull and worldly pleasure, the desert whereof will (no doubt) in the end reward you. And so he went into his Cel, making such speed, til he had shut the doore after him, as if the Giant Brocalon had beene aliue againe, and had followed him: wherat the knight of the Sauageman laugh­ed heartily, then comming vnto the Damosell, he began to sa­lute her in these tearmes.

I could wish (faire Lady) to be seruant to so kiude a Mi­stresse, if it might as shall like you to allowe me your seruice: in sooth I iudge you would like of my behauiour, if you doe not, I will be content to auoide, when it is your pleasure. Worthy Sir (answered the Damosell) I cannot be so much in­gratefull for your great good will, in defending me, when I was [Page] in greatest distresse, but that (to my power) I must witnesse some shew of a thankfull minde: in mean time, I desire to haue your company for these two or thrée dayes, till I be out of these places of so great danger, and then shall I account my selfe then more highly beholding to you.

Lady (quoth he) I receiue so great pleasure in your cour­teous answer, as I thinke my selfe the happiest man a liue to attaine such bountie: wherewith he presently tooke his horse, causing his Esquire to mount the Damosell, who by the way recounted to the Prince Florian, how by a tempest of the Sea, she was cast on the coast of Ireland, comming from Denmarke and carrying Letters of e [...]edise to Basilia the Empresse of Alle­maigne. And when I perceiued (quoth she) that I was in this countrey, where my Couzins (the Daughters of the Marques Baltamor) remained, I intended to bestow a little labour in séeing them, but my [...]ortune was so hard, as I met with the Giant Brocalon, who not contented with the murdering my two Esquires, that bare me company, pursued me to haue ful­fild his villanous wil on me, so it was your good hap to be my reskew, for which I thinke my selfe more beholding to you, then I can expresse: the Prince taking her by the hand, retur­ned this answer.

I promise you faire Lady, I reioyce that it was my fortune to do you such seruice, and doubt not but you shall finde me so gentle a companion, as will guard your person from any dan­ger that may happen to you: but I would either I were so happie, or you so courteous, as to giue liberty to the prisoner, whom your singular beautie hath secretly fettered. They continuing these pleasant purposes of spéech, at last they came to a goodly Riuer, the pleasant sight whereof, inuited them to alight from their horses, to ease themselues a little, where sit­ting louingly together, the Prince began amor [...]usly to dispose himselfe, toward the sober and chasle Damosell: in the meane while, his Esquire went to a Castle néere at hand, to prouide some viands for his Maister, who had fasted since he came to Hermits Cell, which he refused, to haue the Damosels swéete company.

[Page] Many affable spéeches the Prince spent, that the Damosell might the better entertaine him into his fauour, at length he was so bold as to giue her a gréene gowne, when I feare me she lost the flower of her chastity, but whether it were so or no, I know not, but mine Authour saith, that the Esquire at his departing left her a Maiden, and at his comming againe, he found her a woman.

CHAP. VI.
What happened to the knight of the Sauage man, before he had taken his farewell of the Damosell.

SVch and so great was the pleasure, which the knight of the Sauage man conceiued by the presence of the Damosell, as all that night they passed the time away, by the ri­uers side, till at length the Prince began to waxe heauy a sléepe, like vnto those that entertaine Loue, but for the present time, rather to suffise their appetite, then any thing else, for he made so small account of a Louers passions, as his humour once sa­tisfied, he had presently forgotten it. The Damosell séeing the Prince to vse no more regard vnto her, fell into extreame con­ceite of gréefe, in that she had so lightly bestowne her honoura­ble chastitie on the knight, who (she feared) would commit her courtesie to vtter obliuion, which if it shuld happen so vnkindly (quoth she) I (being vnworthy to shew my face among per­sons of credite) wish, that the present losse of my life, might falue vp the staine and blemish of my former riches. A heauy and pittifull discourse she continued, during the time, the knight of the Sauage man slept soundly, at last she looked about, and espied two Esquires, attending on a Knight of such huge sta­ture, [Page] as he séemed to her to exéede the Giant Brocalon. And as he walked, many times would he stand still and muse with himselfe, then pull and rent his haire, as one would haue iudg­ed him depriued of his wits: at last in his extreame passions) he called his Esquiers, and commanded them to wait ther neare vnto him, for that he would repose himselfe vnder the Trees.

Hereat the Damosell was greatly abashed, so that (standing in some feare) she awaked the Knight of the Sauageman, with these wordes: Good Knight forsake this drow sines, for danger is nearer thée then thou art beware of, here is another Broca­lon, come to iniure vs, and therefore helpe now or neuer to de­fend vs.

At these words the Prince suddenly started vp, and when he had put himselfe in good regard for his enemie, hee aduanced himselfe néerer vnto him, and séeing his Esquires walking their horses, and their Maister lying vnder a Trée in great griefe of minde, he stayed himselfe in secret a while, when he heard him breake foorth into these spéeches.

I sée it is great folly for me to repose any credite in the Gods, who either want power, or else are wilfully bent, to euerthrow him that hath most trusted them, and good cause haue I to thinke so, for that my Brethren being vanquished by one onely Knight, they make so small estimation of me in their fauour, as they will not suffer me to meete with him, that I might ei­ther beare my Brethren company, or take that reuenge, which both my griefe, and nature compelleth me. For how can I chuse but blaspheme your names, and deny to giue you the ho­nour I haue done, in that you suffer the knight so much to disho­nour vs? If you haue altogither cast me into obliuion, I wil ho­nor your Altars with no more testimonies of my affection, but that trust I had in you, I will repose in my selfe, and so for euer henceforth I despise you.

These heauy complaintes caused the Prince to iudge, that he was Baleato, The Brother to the Giant Brocalon, who ha­uing intelligence of his Brothers death, sought to finde him that had done the deede, this good hap was very acceptable to the Prince, in that he found him without any of his knights [Page] to aid him, so walking aside, Baleato at the last had espied him, who made him to arise with these spéeches. What is he that dare imagine himselfe so hardy, as to trouble me in my silent purposes? I assure thée, that thou art but little beholding to for­tune, who is thy vtter enemy in conducting thée hither, especial­ly in the time of my fury, which thou wilt find more gréeuous then thou art able to endure. And for the Damosell that kéeps thée company, as I haue good occasion (receiuing part of my g [...]éefe by meanes of such a one as she) I will appeare the anger of my Gods, in offering her as a Sacrifice to them: and so will I deale with all of that Sexe that I can méete, for that Broca­lon (the best knight in the world) was slaine in following such another as she is.

Baleato (answered the Prince) reserue these threatnings for those that are affraide of thee, and prepare thy selfe to deale with him, whom neither the words nor weapon can terrifie, as for the Damosell, assure thy selfe, that I will not onely de­fend her, but I will also humble that proud min [...]e, which makes thee thinke none so good as thy selfe, so shalt thou learne how to vse thy betters, and deale more courteously with the people of this countrey. And because I will mooue the mallice the greater against me, thou shalt vnderstand that I am he, that hath slaine Dalfurnien and Brocalon thy brethren, and haue good hope to send thée after them: wherefore put thy selfe in a readinesse to entertaine me, for I as much disdaine to haue a­ny aduantage of thee, as thou proudly thinkest me vnable to deale with thée.

The Giant (extreamely moued to heare the braue language of the Prince, began to rage after this manner. Thou cruel de­stroyer of my blood, thou maist assure thy selfe to haue in thy pre­sence, the greatest enemy vnto thée in the world: and therefore shew the vttermost of thy manhood, for I carry that hope with me to bathe these hands of mine in thy blood, and beside, to rent thy cursed heart in péeces, and throw it for foode to the Fowles of the aire.

Then they began a fierce and cruell Combat, wherein the Prince so nobly behaue himselfe, that the forcible stroakes of [Page] the Giant were deliuered te small purpose: but at length he per­ceiuing what subtilty the Prince vsed, beganne to strike ve­re roughly at him, so that his swoord was broken in thrée pie­ces, and his body wounded in diuerse places, whereat the Da­mosell was very much displeased, doubting least she should now sée the ende of him, who had all this while so valiantly de­fended her.

The Prince séeing himselfe in danger, cast his Shield be­fore him, to receiue a mightie stroke which the giant gaue, but the blowe lighting on the Shield, entred so farre in, as he could not pull it out againe, which the Prince perceiuing, closed with him, and driuing him still backward till he came to the Riuers side, he strooke his legs from him, so that he fell ouer the bancke into the water, where, with the waightinesse of his fall, and his head going forward, he brake his necke, to the no small ioy of the Damosell, as also of the Prince, who reioyced he was rid of such an enemy.

Then mounting on horsebacke, they rid againe to the Cell of the olde Hermit, for that the Princes woundes were some­what dangerous: in the meane while, the Esquires of Balea­to returned to the Knights which were in the Castles, to giue them vnderstanding of their Masters death, how that hee which had slaine his brother Brocalon, had now likewise dis­patched him.

When they were come to the Cell, the good olde Hermit (al­beit he was somewhat offended with the Prince) yet be recei­ued him very louingly, and on such a poore bed as he had, he cau­sed him to lie down, vsing such good regard vnto him, as within fewe dayes his dangerous estate was well recouered. Then did he desire the Prince, that he would suffer the Damosell to depart on her iourney, giuing her to vnderstand, how she might now trauaile without danger, for that she knowe her selfe the Giants were both slaine, and also he said, it stood not with her honest report, that she should so kéepe company with a Knight at Armes, whose affaires lay in so many sundry places, as it was not decent for her, nor honour to him, to be séene after such effeminate order.

[Page] The Prince was very well content that she should depart, albeit the Damosell found her selfe greatly agreeued, that he did vse no more estimation of her, hauing sealed the Fort of her maidenly honour, which none had the power to obtain before, neuerthelesse, when she saw no remedy, but that she was forced to make a vertue of necessity, with teares she tooke her leaue of the Prince, who feigned himselfe in amourous spéeches, very sad and sorrowfull for her departure.

CHAP. VII.
How the knights, which belouged to the Giants Brocalon and Baleato, surrendred vp the Castles, vnto the noble knight of the Sauage man: And of that which happened to the Prince Florendos, after he arriued at the Castle of the Giant Almarol, where remained the faire Princesse Miragarda.

ON the next day following, the knights, (which belonged to the Giants) had now intelligence of the death of their Lords, whereupon, they presently determined with themselues, to go sée if the knight of the Sauage man, would entertaine them into his fauour, for since they had no refuge or defence left them, wherin they might repose any hope of assu­rance, they concluded to surrender vp the castles into his hands knowing themselues farre vnable to withhold them from him. In this determination they came to the Hermits Cell where they found the knight of y Sauage man lying on his bed, for that he was not very well disposed, they comparing his yong yéeres with the noblenesse of his late exploites, receiued great cause of admiration, at last, he that iudged himselfe, to be the hardiest [Page] of courage amongst them, suddenly entred into these spée­ches.

If I should deny, sir knight, that Fortune hath entertai­ned you into especiall regard, I should séeme very much for­getfull of my selfe, in that the puissance of Brocalon and Ba­leato, two Giants, reputed of no small courage, as (by your noble hardinesse) brought to vtter confusion: therefore this re­maineth as a chosen argument, that she, not onely hath called you into the dignity of her fauour, but also, that she maintai­neth her affection towards you with inestimable bountie, let not any then séeme so hardie, as to offer a checke or reproofe to your valour, for that their best Fortune is vnlike to be equall with yours, but let them rather imagine themselues happy, if they may deserue the good countenance of so worthy a Cham­pion.

The due consideration hereof, hath constrained vs to enter into such hardinesse, as to come and present our selues to your noble mercy, this good opinion guided vs, that he which hath so worthily ouercome, and remaineth in the honour of a fa­mous conquerour, will not staine that laudable title, by offe­ring discourtesie to those, who humble themselues as obedient seruants, in signe whereof, receiue at our hands the keyes of the Castles, which our Lords sometime enioyed, and withall, receiue the hearty good will and affection of them, who remaine onely at your noble comandement: to which courteous words the Prince returned this answer.

Your spéeches are so honest, and so well repleate shith ciuill courtesie, as I am sorry that my present case, will not suffer me to let you vnderstand, how thankefully I accept your great gentlenesse: but you shall beare me company to the Court of England, where I will cause the king my Grandfather to satis­fie that, which my dishablity will not suffer me. Then tooke he the keyes of the Castles, wherewith he was very much con­tented, séeing the issue so fortunate, where the beginning seemed so doubtfull.

The knights still kept the Prince company, in respect of the honourable promise he had made them, wherof they were not a [Page] little glad, in that they hoped to gaine good fauour in the Court of England, where, the report of this noble Conquest in short time was so blazed, as it mooued a generall consent of gladnes, not so much for the recouery of the Castles, as that they were woon by the prowesse of the Prince Florian.

The good King Fredericke, for ioy of this good happe, sent sir Pridos, the Duke of Galles, in all the spéede that might be, to sée if he could méete with his noble Nephew: who taking a Gal­ley presently, in short time arriued in the Coast of Ireland, not very farre from the Hermits Cell. Where finding the Prince, and declaring the sum of his message, the Prince concluded to depart thence, notwithstanding his wounds were not thorow­ly healed: so taking leaue of the gentle Hermit, and desiring the other Knights to accompany him, they committed them­selues to the Seas, whereon they had not long sayled, but they arriued at the Cittie of London, thorow which they were ho­nourably conducted to the Kings Pallace. When tydings be­ing come to the King, that they were arriued in the Court, ac­companied with his Sonne Don Edward, hée came to méete them, when casting his armes about the necke of the Prince Florian, the teares ran downe his white beard, for the inward ioy he conceiued in his presence: as for his Father Don Ed­ward, he would not hide his earnest affection, but welcommed his sonne with very great kindnesse, and his mother the Prin­cesse Flerida, pittying his hurts, but glad of his company, shew­ed her selfe a louing mother vnto him, and would not depart day nor night from him, till she perceiued him to be thorowly recouered.

The King of England did very honourably entertaine the Knights which came with his Nephew, and for that he would show he made estimation of them, he accepted them into offices (according to their degrées) in his Court, for which great boun­tie, they witnessed themselues not vnthankefull, but so behaued themselues, as they did great credit to the King in his Court.

The Prince Florian being in good estate of health, newes came vnto the English Court, of the imprisonment of the king Polendos and his companie, in the Court of the great Turke, [Page] which vnhappy tidings moooed the king and his whole Court to great gréefe, considering withall the state of sorrow, wheren the Emperour of Constantinople remained: and the more ex­treame did they take the cause, in respect of the small hope was to be had of their liberty againe, in that the great Turke had sworne to put them all to death, except the Emperour would send him the knight, who so boldly carryed away his daughter the Princesse Targiana. These newes comming to the eares of the Prince Florian, he began to fall into these spéeches. Far better it is for me to go render my selfe, and suffer the extrame rigour of that cruell Infidell, then that (for me) so many good knights should liue in danger: for séeing by my occasion the cause did first arise, no better meane to salue it vp againe then my selfe.

I cannot beléeue (sayd the Prince Don Edward) that the Turke is so forgetfull of himselfe, as to séeke the death of so ma­ny for so small a matter, by reason Albayzar, (one of his owne kindred) should then stand in hazard of his life: but if it be as the report goeth, the Emperour ought to be carefull in the kée­ping of Albayzer to the end, that the safegard of his life might redéeme the other their woonted liberty: whereto the Prince Florian thus replied. I am perswaded good Father, that the Turke will hardly be remooued from his determination, which maketh me the greater to misdoubt the safety of those knights, the absence of whom (I am assure) so gréeuously offendeth the good Emperour, that I am perfectly resolued to goe and com­fort him: considering it is a part of dutie on my behalf, not to be so farre from him at this time, séeing he is depriued of them that should defend him. The aged king Fredericke, his Father Don Edward, nor his mother the Priucesse Flerida, could dis­swade him from his determination, but contrary to their wils he departed from the Court, taking his iourney toward Con­stantinople, being armed after his accustomed maner, and bea­ring in his Sheeld his vsuall deuise. Thus the happy successe which may fall vnto him, at this time we intend to leaue him, because we will returne to the Prince Florendos, who by his time is wel néere the castle of the giant Almarol, hauing in his [Page] iourney done many noble déeds deseruing commendation, but for that they are rehearsed in the English Chronicles, it would séeme impertinent to this place to rehearse them: neuerthelesse, I must needs tell yée, that Floraman the Prince of Sardignia, in this iourney atchieued very great renowne, and so continu­ed, till their arriuall at the City of Rioclaro, which at this pre­sent is called Tamar.

Florendos séeing himselfe so neare the place, where he had spent a great time in languishing afflictions, entred into a thou­sand imaginations with himselfe, first considering the begin­ning of his loue, and then the happy continuance thereof, enfor­ced him to a number of sad coniectures, wherein he passed that night as quietly as he could.

In the morning they rid on toward the Castle of Almaroll, when Albayzar beganne to vse some doubt of his entertaine­ment, for that he iudged women were but slenderly acquain­ted with pittie, especially hée looked for small fauour of the Princesse Miragarda, who contrariwise was not so cruell to­wardes strangers, as shée was toward her dearest and best be­loued friendes. Florendos had no sooner discouered the Trées, which were planted about the Riuer Thesin, and with all, the walles of the Castle of Almaroll, but his heart was immeasu­rably touched with suddaine feare, remembring how many stormes he had endured, and the perilles whereto he must now render himselfe againe afresh, a spectacle certainely of woonder­full griefe, wherein he somewhat bare the Prince Albayzar company, who remembring that he was vanquished, knew no other remedie for himselfe, but to abide the mercy of Mira­garda.

When they were come to the Castle, they found all the gates fast locked, wherevpon they went to the Trée where the Shieldes were hanging, where, well beholding them all, Flo­rendos at last espied his owne, at the sight whereof he secretly sighed, and imagined how he might be thankfull sufficient to his Esquire Armello, who had (since his departure (so well gar­ded it: but in sooth he was not so much beholding to his Es­quier, as he did esteeme himselfe, because Armello was fallen [Page] amorous of Lardemia, the Damosell attendant on the faire Princesse Miragarda, and stayed in that place to contemplate the beauty of his beloued Mistresse, rather then for any care he had of his Maisters shéeld and Armor, for he was gone so farre ouer shoes in loue, as he had no other pleasure then the remem­brance of the Damosell, who tooke great delight to sée him so gréeuously attached for loue.

Armello shas so set on fire in affection, as he could not know his Lord and Maister, and some other cause there was to hin­der him, for that he was so, disguised in blacke Armour, but when he perceiued the Prince Floraman, and had likewise e­spyed the shéeld of the Princesse Miragarda, he presently did coniecture, that the blacke Knight, was his Lord the Prince Florendos, to whom he reuerently drew néere, vsing these spéeches.

I hope (my good Lord) you haue no occasion to hide your self from him, who hath such earnest affection to do you seruice, and specially hauing recouered so rare a Iewel, as is the Shéeld of the faire Miragarda, at whose commandement, you made your departure from this place, and well worthy is she to be impea­ched of high ingratitude, if she should not now fauourably en­tertaine you, who hath so nobly and worthily deserued.

Florendos being not able to conceale himselfe any longer, o­pened his helmet, and then embraced his Esquire Armello, to whom he deliuered the Shéeld of Miragarda, willing him to set it in the place where it was woont to stand, before that the Prince Albayzar so discourteously tooke it away, and bad him also take the Shéeld of the Princesse Targiana, and to set it at the féete of the portraiture of Miragarda, which did not a little offend the Prince Albayzar to behold.

At length came foorth of the Castle the Giant Almarol, ve­ry well Armed, and gallantly mounted on a white Courser, for he supposed that these thrée Princes came to demand the Ioust, but when he beheld the Shéeld of Miragarda, in the place where it was wont to be, being suddainly abashed, he knew not well what to say. At last he knew the Prince Florendos, by reason that he had lifted vp the Beuere of his [Page] Helmet, whereupon he cast his Lance to the ground, and with stretched out armes came and embraced the Prince Florendos entertaining him with these words.

I did alwaies perswade my selfe (worthy and renowned Prince Florendos) that you would bring to end that honorable exployte, which I now perceiue you haue happily atchieued, a desert so laudable and knightly, as the Princesse Miragarda cannot otherwise chuse, but requite you with better entertain­ment, then she had done heretofore. And if she continue her former obstinacy, & vse not that gratious acceptation towards you, which your noblenesse doth worthily merite, and her due­tie commandeth she should fauour you with all, I will so shake the honour of her name with spéeches of importance, that the world shalbe acquainted with her monstrous vnkindnesse, who I hope will beare me company in iustly condemning her, that can affoord such great disloyaltie to so good a Knight.

Thus breaking of his spéeches, & without staying to heare the answer of the Prince, he presently ran into the Castle, where he declared to the Princesse Miragarda, the noble and Knightly returne of her loyall Seruant Florendos, which newes enflamed her heart with vnspeakeable ioy, neuerthe­lesse she dissembled the matter in such sort, as though she had made no account thereof, which the Giant perceiuing, both how slender estimation she seemed to haue of Florendos, as also of the [...] bringing backe againe her Shéeld, being not able to withhold his choller any longer, he began to touch her very highly with the Princely seruice of Florendos, how to her vniuersall praise and his owne renowne, he had wit­nessed the true testimony of an inuincible minde, which she countenancing with so small regard, did notoriously impeach herselfe of ingratitude, and too iniuriously requite him that had deserued so well.

All these words did séeme nothing to moue her resolute will, but with a hardy countenance she gaue show to the Giant, that she was the Lady and Mistresse of a selfe-willed conceit, albeit within her selfe, she remayned greatly affectionate of the Princes returne, but because her modest shamefastnesse [Page] should not be discoured to the giant, she made the matter to him of no regard at all.

The Giant being not a little vexed, in a great fury [...] foorth of her presence, very much accusing her obstinate minde, and comming to the Prince Florendos, they could not hide the great discourtesie of Miragarda, which the Prince contented himselfe withall, because he was woont to haue no other enter­tainement, but for that he would dispatch the cause of Albayzar he desired Almaroll to goe againe to his Lady, and to know her pleasure, as concerning him that caried away her Shield, and whom he had brought backe againe.

The Giant presently returned to the princesse, giuing her to vnderstand, that the Knight which had caried away the Shield, was brought thither backe againe by the noble Prince Floren­dos, who desired to knowe her will, what should be done with him? Miragarda taking a little pause, at last commanded that Albayzar should be brought into her persence, and that Floren­dos should abide without.

When Albayzar was come before her, she straitely charged him to goe yéeld himselfe prisoner, vnto the king Recinde her e­speciall good Lord, and that he should not faile to goe thither, be­cause he should remaine there as prisoner, vntill the great Turke had set at liberty the king Polendos with al his knights She receiuing his oath, that he would not faile to doe as she had commanded him, willed him to depart, wh [...] he (giuing her humble thanks for fauouring him so much, considering his offence deserued greater punishment) offered gently to kisse her hand, but she would not suffer him, and so he departed from her.

When he was come foorth againe from the Castle, to take his leaue of the Prince Florendos, he cast his [...] on the pro­traiture of the princesse Targiana, not without many a bleeding sigh from his heart▪ and such countenance in iesture, as bewray­ed the extreamity of his suddaine pa [...]ions.

A great while he stood rehearsing to himselfe, these amorous conceits wherewith he was meruailously charged, at last he [Page] desired Almaroll to doe him so much fauour, as to goe & intreate the Princesse Miragarda, that it might stand with her pleasure, not to suffer the shield of his best beloued Targiana, to hang in the rancke among those that were conquered, in respect she had deserued no such dignitie. But in no case would shee agrée to this request, so highly did she estéeme her selfe in superioritie, a­boue all other Ladies, whereof Albayzar being certified, he de­parted in choller and extreame melancholly, & the thirtéenth day after her departure from the Castle of Almaroll, he arriued in the Court of Recinde King of Spaine, who receiued him with very Princely Courtesie.

And after he vnderstood who had sent him, and for what cause, he was not a little pleased thereat, because by him, the King Polendos might haue libertie againe, as also his Sonne, who was prisoner amongst the other Knights: of these newes he presently caused the Emperour of Constantinople to be ad­uertised, that he should now set his former griefe apart and re­ioyce, in that he had in his custody such a one, as should bring home againe all the Knights that were prisoners to the Turke. The Emperor greatly commended the pollicie of the Princesse Miragarda, and wished if it might be possible, to haue her com­pany in his court, as well to regard her with honour equall to her worthy deserts, as also to mittigate the afflictions of his Nephewe the Prince Florendos, who desired alwayes to ful­fill those occa [...]ns, that might witnes to her his faithful seruice But when he perceiued that his Lady made no account of his trauailes, neither regarded the torments he endured for her sake, he determined to guard her Shield againe, vntill some o­ther Knight did purchase his office, by triall of his valour, and if his misfortune happened to be so great, as he should receiue the folie in this new attempt, he vowed neuer more to beare Armes against any, but euen to commit his whole course to the cruelty of Fortune, séeing that all this while, she would not allow him one fauourable looke.

CHAP. VIII.
Of the Combats that the Prince Florendos fought, the se­cond day after he had enterprised to guarde the Shield of the Princesse Miragarda.

WHen the Prince Florendos had passed one day before the Castle of Almaroll, without any friendly countenance of his Lady, or once comming into her presence, he began to commune with himselfe of his hard for­tune, and what little hope he had to gaine his desired ioy, because her frowardnes cast into contempt his faithfull seruice. On the second day, to expell the heauie thoughts, wherewith he was so grieuously charged, he came to the place before the Shield of his faire Mistresse, which when he had aduisedly behold, he vttered his complaines after this manner.

I knowe certainely (swéete Lady) that he which bestoweth his time in your seruice, receiueth a very grea [...] [...]compence, by hauing the meanes to behold your faire Image in this portrai­ture, which is of power sufficent to bring into his subiection, the heart as hard as Adamant, if the Goddesse would affoord those fauourable words vnto it, which sometime she did to the image made by Pigmaleon, how highly (in so doing) might she mani­fest her courtesie, and what a precious Iuell were he enriched withall, that gained so great an honour.

But I see well, that you haue preuented such a happy cause, in that this remaineth as a Net, to entangle the mindes of them, which liue frée from such thraldome, in which extreami­tie, the party so inueigles desireth, as well to be comforted by your gratious spéech, as to be so gratiously tormented by your [Page] silent counterfeit, for that it depriueth him of his former felicity As for me, séeing there is no other remedie, I must féede mine eyes with this entising shadowe, and satisfie my fancy in midst of my shadow, in that I behold the thing with mine eye, which as a dagger stabbeth me to the heart, and leaueth him depriued of any mean, which might adde some ease to my misfortue. But albeit your portraite is dumbe and sencelesse, and cannot (as I would it could) perceiue my heauy aflictions, yet so fond is my conceit, that it maketh me weary of my wretched life, hauing played the Mistresse thereof so deuoutly in my thoughts, as in stead of th [...]person, I reuerence her picture, thinke then how du­tifull I would be to your selfe, that am so forward in estéeming your shadow.

And this foresaid content should be very welcome to me, if I were perswaded that you tooke delight therein, which hardly I can beleeue, in that my long absence in your seruice, and my presence now to offer you my dutie, is not worthy to be once looked on, this maketh me thinke, that you haue committed me to forgetfulnesse: therefore I account it as vaine to mourne any longer, seeing the affection I haue alwayes so faithfully borne you, is rewarded with such an vnkinde recompence. While the Prince Florendos continued this sad discourse, the Prin­cesse Miragarda secretely behelde him at a [...]hinke in the win­dowe, for it was her woont to arise very earely in the mor­nings, to heare the pleasant noates of the pretty chirping birds, that would come and sing in the Trées planted by the Riuers side.

And when shee perceiued that his grieuous lamentations procéeded from the depth of his heart, she was somewhat aba­shed thereat, but yet in such sort, as she did neuer the more pittie his dollorous estate: for such a proud opinion she held of her selfe, that the greatest desartes in the world were not sufficient to answere her beautie, neither that Florendos could endure too much griefe for her, such was her mercilesse iudgement of the passions of loue. The carefull Prince abiding in his woonted mones, on a sudden heard a great noyse (not farre from him) a­mong the Trees, which caused him to breake off his amorous [Page] lamentations, and as he aduanced himself to sée what the mat­ter was, he espyed thrée knights come riding, attired in very rich and costly Armour. The first of them was in gréene Ar­mour, shadowed with siluer very beautifully, and in his Shield he bare for his deuice, this word writen in Greeke letters, Nor­mandie.

The Armour of the second, was white and Azure, mingled together artificially, with streames of greene enterchangea­bly figured thereon, and in his shéeld in a field of Sinople, he had liuely pictured the God Apollo in his ancient habit. The Armor of the third was Carnation colour, all beset with Crossets of gold very gallantly, and in his Sheeld in a field G [...]ules he bare for his deuise, Orpheus wrapped about with the flames of hall, which was so ingeniously made, as there wanted nothing but life to grace the picture.

The two foremost Knights came singing very pleasantly, that the Prince Florendos tooke great delight to heare them, and they accorded in such good musicke together, as the Prince Floraman (who was very well séene in that Art) commended it aboue all that euery he heard in his life, so sweetly did their voyces consent together, beside, the eccho of the Riuer, the trées and the mountaines did answer their notes so familiarly, that it was almost as commendable as an instrument, which the Princesse Miragarda (standing in her window) tooke great pleasure to heare, and it did very much comfort the sad mind of the Prince Florendos.

But the Prince of Sardignia, being somewhat acquainted with the Song, tooke a knife and engraued the same on the barke of a Tree, that for the worthinesse thereof, it might there remaine till time had consumed the Trée, and as the Tree grew in bignesse, so the letters might be séene in more leageable ma­ner, which when he had finished, as well for his owne content, as to marke the perfectnesse of the Song, he rehearsed to him­selfe in forme following.

The Song which the two knights did sing, as they came riding to the Castle of the Giant Almarol, and which was engrauen on a Tree, by Floraman the Prince of Sardignia.

FAire Madame, if you can vouchsafe to see,
the liuely picture of a carefull minde:
For lorne with griefe, do you but looke on me,
and iudge if Fortune be not most vnkinde,
That he which sues and serueth faithfully:
Should be repaide with extreame cruelty.
Wh [...]t greater torments to a gentle minde,
then to be scorned where he liketh most?
What state of refuge can he hope to finde,
where each thing doth at his misfortune boast?
Condemnd, confounded with, rebuke and blame:
Yet ignorant from whence the causes came.
So heauy is the waighty yoake of Loue,
when queintest lookes affoord discourtesie:
That wise is he that doth the passions proue,
and yet can keepe himselfe at libertie.
But he whose wits is rauished by stealth:
Had need of Physick in his greatest health
Some men in loue commend their happinesse,
their quiet, sweete, a [...]d delicate delight:
And I can boast of Fortunes frowardnesse,
Her extreame rigour and seuere despight.
But for the sweetnesse other men haue felt:
I came too late, my part was else where dealt.
Yet can I say, no man hath beene more iust,
nor seru'd his Lady with more due regard:
But she being gouerned by her owne mistrust,
denies her seruant his desirde reward.
This my misfortune waxeth more and more:
Yet will I suffer, though I die therefore.
FINIS.

THe thrée Knights had no sooner espied the Prince Floren­dos, walking before the Castle of Almaroll, but they pre­se [...]tly left their singing, and pulled downe the Beuers of their helmets, because they doubted that they should be known: and when they came before the Trée where the shields hanged, they began greatly to commend his valour, whose noblenesse had gained such braue prizes, at length the knight in the greene Armour, stedfastly beholding the portrait of the faire Miragar­da, began very brauely to vse his language, as thus.

The beautie of that heauenly face which this Picture repre­sents, is of authoritie sufficient to bring to her obeysance, the heart that neuer thought to loue, yea, of the worthiest knight in the whole world, albeit my minde was farre otherwise, before I sawe that with mine eye, which hath béene daily cōmended so much in mine eare: Neuertheles, if any of those Knights which hath enterprised to defend so rich a treasure, dare be so hardy as to breake a couple of Lances with me. I will doe my endeuour as becōmeth a good knight, on condition he prouoke me not, to doe him more iniury then willingly I would: because I feare that the Lady which oweth this faire Picture, would very se­uerely punish me, for offering offence to any of her Knights, as contrariwise shee will entertaine them with especiall fauour, that take vpon them to enter the Combat for her: to whom the Prince Florendos thus replied.

It were pitie Sir, to put you foorth of so good a minde, séeing your stomacke serueth you so wel for the purpose, and because I [Page] am ready prouided for the Ioust, I force not greatly to bestow the breaking of a Launce or two on you: and therefore take the field at your pleasure, for I will sanctifie you in this request.

With these words they parted to fetch their course, and met together with such force, that their Launces slewe vp into the ayre in pieces, and so passed on brauely, not being any thing sha­ken at this first encounter. The Giant Almaroll, seeing them destitute of Launces, caused some to be brought forth of the Ca­stle, and being deliuered to their Esquiers, they went and ser­ued their Lordes withall, who valiantly met againe to breake their Launces the second time: but their encounter was so for­cible, that the Prince Florendos lost one of his stirroppes, on which side he was in some danger, to haue fallen besides his horse: Neuerthelesse, the Knight in the gréene Armour measu­red his length on the ground, but he recouered himselfe againe quickly, and being out of measure displeased at his fall, drew his sword with these words.

Syr Knight, for that I made the meanes to summon you to the Ioust, albeit the foyle hath happened to me, yet am I not offended thereat, so that you will now so much honour me, as to let vs trie one another a while with our swords and if in the ende it be your good hap to vanquish me, your valour shall haue the larger estimation. I knowe not (answered the Prince Florendos) how these Gentlemen in your company esteeme of your request, because I sée them preparing themselues to offer me the Ioust: therefore let my intreatie at this time per­swade you from this desire, in that we shall haue time enough to trie our manhood together, when you shall not thinke your selfe greatly aduantaged, nor I finde my selfe ouermuch in­iured.

Thus concluding, he gaue his horse the spurres, and ranne couragiously against the knight in the white Armour mingled with Azure, who in sooth receiued him very brau [...]ly, breaking their Launces with so great force, as the Prince Florendos lost both his stirrops, but yet recouered himselfe well enough from the fall: as for the other Knight, the stroke of the Prince was [...], that his Horse and he sells [...] both to­gether, [Page] and his horse tumbling vpon him did somwhat hurt one of his legs.

When Florendos had prouided himselfe of another Lance, he gaue a signe to y third knight to encounter with him, which the Knight perceiuing, and being somewhat moued at the mis­fortune of his companions, failed not to put himselfe vpon the aduenture, but such was the courteous regard he had of his fel­lowes, as at the first offer they missed in their meeting, where­upon they tooke the second caréere so worthily against ech other as they brake their Lances brauely, and passed on for the third encounter. The Prince Floraman and Almorall, made great estimation of the noble behauiour the [...]e thrée Knights vsed, and likewise the Princesse Miragarda did very much commend the noble exploites, which Florendos and the other knights shew­ed before her presence, but then the knight being desirous to try the end of his Fortune, began to aduance himselfe forward and the like did the Prince Florendos, when they met together [...] couragiously, that the knight was dismounted to the earth, the Prince Florendos being in litte better case, for had he not caught hold on themane of his horse, he had bene forced to beare the knight company, but he escaped the fall very well, and be­ing well mounted againe, the knight with whom he had first Iousted, came vnto him with these words.

Such is my earnest desire (sir knight) to try my fortune once more against you, as I find my selfe very much agreeued, till I haue felt as much by your sword, as I haue done by your lance, therfore as you are a Gentleman, and one that hath worthily de [...]erued your knighthood, let me gaine so much fauour at your hands, as now presently you would, satisfie my request: the Prince Florendos shaped him this answer.

Your language is accompanied with such great honesty and cou [...]te [...]e, and beside, I do esteeme thereof so well, as it would be a great blemish to mine honour, if I should deny your knighly desire, and so alighting from his horse, he drew his Sword to enter the Combate, but the Knight which bare in his Shield the deuice of Apollo, stepped betweene them after this sort.

[Page] Noble Florendos, you haue good occasion to content your selfe with this victory, in so much as you haue woone it of those who are your especiall friends, and we would haue you know, that we are not offended at our mischance, being vanquiwed by a Prince of so great and singuler prowesse. And for that you may be the better perswaded of my words, you shall vnderstand that he which is so earnest in prouoking you to the Combat, is your déere friend the Prince Berold, the other is your own bro­ther the Prince Platir, who to their great paines (I thanke them) haue honoured me in trauaile with their worthy compa­ny, as for my selfe, I am your humble Seruant the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley who had knowledge of you, so soone as I did sée you, yet would not I make any shew thereof (being desi­rous my selfe to be vnknowne) to the end that the faire Prin­cesse Miragarda, might yet once more behold your Knightly valour, and then to esteeme of you according to your noble de­serts.

The Prince Florendos tooke of his Helmet, and comming to the Sage Aliart, did embrace him very courteously, giuing them to vnderstand how he was heartily sory that he had iou­sted against his Brother, and his other two deare friendes, whom he spared not to entertaine very gratiously, and the like did the Prince Floraman, for that they had witnessed their friendship to him in [...] places, so they sitting downe all to­gether, passed away the greatest part of the day, in rehearsing their manifold and Knightly aduentures, which they lengthe­ned with large discourse, because they would gladly get a sight of the Princesse Miragarda, who was so dainty in shewing her selfe, as very seldome would she come to the open window, but looke forth at some priuy or secret place, for that her greatest felicitie was, when she might sée the fiield died with the blood of those, who came to contend for the singularity of beauty, in triall whereof, she was not a little proud that the victory retur­ned alwaies to her, which made her take the greater deilght, when she perceiued the liues of them that tried the Combats, to stand in danger, which she did oftentimes behold in the sun­dry Combats fought before the Castle.

[Page] These thrée knights continued still in talke, at last they were told of the entertainment which the Princesse Miragar­da afforded to the Prince Albayzar, which did the better con­tent them then any thing else, for that they greatly desirad their liberty, whom the great Turke did hold as prisoners, and whose cruelty they knew would be seuere, if it were not mittigated by this meane.

When they had spent all the day in hope to sée the Princesse and could not any way accomplish their desire, knowing be­side, that the Princes Florendos, and Floraman, determined to stay there still at the Castle, they friendly tooke their leaue of them, taking their iourney toward the Cittie of Constanti­nople, which was the cause why they left the King of Spaines Court. Thus the Prince Florendos accompanied with his be­loued friend Floraman, concluded still to guard the Sheeld of his faire Mistresse Miragarda, against all those that durst come to vse any controuersie therewith: and stil he bemoned his hard Fortune, that his true and faithfull seruice could be no better estéemed.

CHAP. IX.
Of a strange aduenture which chanced before the Castle of the Giant Almarol, and what happened to the Prince Flo­rendos.

NOw our history reports, the thrée knights which iousted against the Prince Floren­dos, did not linger or loyter in any place, til they came into Greece, and not very farre from the cittie of Constantinople, where by chance as they trauailed, they met with Leonarda the Princesse of Thrace, being [Page] worthily guided by many noble Gentlemen, some that imploy­ed themselues in knightly seruice, to gaine the good opinion of Princesse, and others that vttered many amorous conceits, to inueigle her fancy towards them in marriage, and so they passed away the time till they arriued at Con [...]stantinople, where the Princesse was entertained with maruailous great honour: but because the History doth make mention hereafter of her royall receiuing into the Citty, I will now speake no more thereof, but returne againe to the Prince Florendos, who walking along the Riuers side to take the fresh aire (the next day after the three knights departed from him) he espyed two Boats well furnished with Oares, in the foremost wher­of sate foure Damosels, attired in very sumptuous apparell, and sitting about the poope end of the Boate, sounding and tuning their Lutes, whereto their voyces deliuered such plea­sant ditties, as they might well haue bene compared with the three Knights that had taken their way to Constantinople, if so be they had stayed still at the Castle of Almaroll, to haue made triall.

When they drew neare to the Castle, the men besturred their Oars merily, and the Ladies continued their pleasant song, ve­ry often making signes of courtesie towards the other Boate, which was couered with a Tilt of surpassing riches, and there (vnder a pauilion of inestimable value) sate a Lady on pillows and Cushions of Veluet imbrodered [...] with Gold, whose countenance (which in sooth was maruellous beautifull) shewd her to be the Gouernes ouer all the other, for she had on a light robe of Carnation Taffata, cut and layd out with very beauti­full Silks, that it séemed of great costlines and value to the be­holders, by reason that there wanted not gold, Pearle, and pre­cious Stones, to set it forth to the vttermost, and for that she might be the better discerned, the heate of the day being past, & the Sunne declining to the neather Regions, she gaue com­mandement, that the Mantles of the Pauilion should be lifted vp, when the Princes Florendos, and Floraman, might at will behold the exquisite perfection of her beautie, and at her féete they might see sitting on a cloath of blacke Veluet, two [Page] aged Gentlewoman, betwéene whom sat a very faire Damo­sell: and by her side lay a séemely Knight in gréene armour, bea­ring in his shield for his deuice, in a field of Sinople, Cupid fast lincked in chaines of gold, his bowe and arrowes lying before him broken in pieces, and the knight himselfe séemed, as a man altogether vanquished and ouercome, for that the Damosell ad­uanced her selfe aboue him.

The Marriners were brauely decked with the colours of their Ladie, whereof (I may say to you) they were not a little proude, for that in behauiour they séemed so pleasant, as no accident what soeuer could haue power to change them: and in these great shewes of delight, they brought their Boates to the side of the Castle, continuing these swéete harmonie, which by the Eccho of the water, gaue an acceptable noyse to their eares, who at the windowes of the Castle stoode to behold them.

The two Princes, Florendos and Floraman, thought the time too long, till they might haue further knowledge of these Ladies but especially the Prince Florendos, who being earnest in desire to knowe the Knight in the Boate, casting his armes together, thus communed with himselfe. I am of the mind that the very e [...]treamest rigour of misfortune is reserued for me, and that it is adioyned me to lament, when others reioyce, in that I am daily and hourely tossed in the surges of vncertaine chanches, when each one else can haue harbour in the hauen of happinesse: and if I speake amisse, let the world enter into iudgement on me: first, the whole course of my life in Knight­ly seruice, and the reuerent dutie I haue alwayes borne to my Mistresse, yet what I haue gained in the one, I haue lost in the other, which is a speciall argument, that I am altoge­ther vnfortunate. Hee would haue procéeded furder in secret complaint, but Floraman stayed him with his friendly imbra­sing, and so walking together, they behelde to come from the Boate, where the Lady sate, a very modest and ciuill Damosel, and out of the other Boate came two Esquires, who after they had vailed their bonnets to their Lady and Mistresse, went or­derly together before the Damosell.

[Page] When they came before the two Princes, the Esquires very reuerently did their dutie to them, and the Damosell gaue them a very gracious salutation as she passed by them: at last, they came before the Trée where the Shieldes were placed, when the Damosell (beholding the portraite of the faire Miragarda) turned to the Esquires with these words.

This diuine motion of vnequall beautie, causeth me to en­ter into a hard opinion, which is that our Lady and Mistresse will returne as greatly displeased, as she is arriued here with suppose of pleasure, for that the base Stone of Saint Vincents Rocke, may not presume to paragon it selfe with a pure and perfect Diamond. So, shee procéeded on towards the Castle, where, in the windowe (by reason of this suddaine aduenture) the Princesse Miragarda was very stately placed, before whom she should haue deliuered her message, but that she was maruai­lously damped by the glimpse of her singular beutie, which was an occasion of her pausing a while: a thing not strange in wo­men, who are quickly abashed at a simple cause, and therefore the more worthy of a fanourable conceite, but after the Da­mosel had attained more hardinesse (yet not without very mai­denly and ciuil bashfulnesse) she saluted the Princesse Miragar­da with these spéeches.

Let it not séeme (faire Princesse) offensiue in your gracious eye, that I thrust my selfe into your presence after such bold ma­ner, for that countrey Maidens are sildome acquainted with courtly qualities, and beside, a messenger is pardonable, because some audacitie must be vsed in declaring a message, and there­fore presuming on your noble fauour, I omit néedelesse and pro­lixious phrases, because they are not incident to the matter I haue to disclose, neither is it necessarie to offend your cares with long and tedious protestations.

You shall therefore vnderstand (most gratious Princesse) that Arnalte the Princesse of Nauarre, my especiall good Lady and Mistresse, by me kisseth the hand of your excellencie, who for the desire she hath to doe you seruice, and to spend sometime in your so farre famed and commended company, hath béene so bold to trauaile thus farre, and here she is arriued with such a [Page] small traine as attendeth on her, not daring to enter on land or presume to your Castle, before she be first resolued, if it stand with your good liking to affoord her entertainement, o­therwise being very loth to offend you, she will returne from whence she came: to which words the Princesse thus re­plyed.

Faire Damosall, your request is honest and commendable, and for my part I estéeme very well thereof, but yet lyeth not in me to grant your Ladies request, which is no small gréefe vnto me: and I assure you, that the comming of the Princesse of Nauarre is as acceptable to me, as the greatest good Fortune in the world beside, that might happen to me: but as concer­ning her friendly desire, trust me, the custome of this Castle is flatly against it, in that the entrance is as well defended against women (whose company is very strange here) as a­gainst men, that daily imploy themselnes in deeds of honour. And if I (for the good affection I bare to your Lady and Mi­stresse) should presume on my selfe to breake the custome, the Giant Almaroll, whose authority here stretcheth further then mine) I am sure would in no wise agrée thereto, and there­fore I desire you not to imagine any ill, in that I do not grant to your Ladies request, for there is great trust committed to those Knights without, that (on their perill) none must enter into this Castle. And so I pray you to returne my acceptable, thankes to your Lady, excusing me by my allowable answer and this you may assure her, that my griefe is greater then she can iudge, or you imagine, in that I am destitute of the power to accomplish her courteous will.

Madame (answered the Damosell) I shall not faile to de­clare at large to the Princesse Arnalte, your gratious pleasure, so that I doubt not, but she will very well accept of your friendly aunswer: and the rather, because her daunger will be the greater, if she presume vnaduisedly on her owne peri [...]l, so that she is highly bound to your courteous nature, in sending her such a forewarning.

And so she humbly tooke her leaue of the Princesse Miragar­da, whose answer she thorowly deliuered to her Lady and [Page] Mistresse, whereat she receiued so great vnkindnesse, as she would hardly suffer the Damosell to report the allowable and sufficient excuse of the Princesse, and she grew into so great melancholly, as neither one nor other might speake vnto her, which when the knight in the gréene Armour perceiued he a­rose, and began thus to pacifie her.

Madame, you ought not to take in euill part, that the prin­cesse Miragarda maketh réfusall of your entry into her Castle, for that perchance she is a fraide, least your beauty should staine or blemish hers, and then you know (when such a doubt stan­deth in the way) she should séeme very vnwise, in commit­ting hee case to so great hazard: wherefore I pray you, let this perswasion (which I imagine to be the cause of your deniall) so quietly content you, as no further choller remaine vpon your stomacke.

These words which the knight vsed, were of such force in the eares of the Princesse Arnalte, as she contented her selfe with the answer the Damosell brought her: and because she would not presently depart thence, without seeing some further occasions, she commanded the knight to go to the place where the Shields hanged, and from thence to bring her the Shield, wherein the Princesse Miragarda was pictured, because shée would carry it away with her.

The knight esteemed this commandement very highly, in that the Princesse would imploy him in any cause of seruice, wherfore, without fu [...]der delay he went on land accompanyed with the damosell that carried the message to the Princesse, to whom when she had made knowne his intent, she presently went to the two Princes, Florendos and Floraman, whom she summoned with these words.

Gentlemen, the knight which you sée, is come in the compa­ny of my Lady and Mistresse, desireth you to send him the Princesse Miragardaes Sheeld, for that his Lady would vse it in those occasions, which in her iudgement she estéemeth to be well thought on: and if you should séeme so bold as to denie his demand, and carry such an opinion of your selues, as he may not spéed of his purpose by faire meanes, know you then, [Page] that he shall be constrained to fetch it away against your wils, yea, in despight of any thing you dare doe to the contrary, which trust me he would be loth to doe, such and so great is his gentle nature, as he would not willingly offer iniury to any knight of this Countrey: vpon these wordes the Prince Florendos thus answered.

Gentle Damosell, the Knight (as it séemeth to me) is igno­rant of the daungers which this Shielde doeth promise to him, who cannot content himselfe to feede his eyes, with the beholding and contemplating a thing of so rare beautie and excellency, but hee must needes enter into so proude an ima­gination, as for his owne pleasure or his Ladies, he must car­ry the Shield away with him, and that there belongeth no more to the matter but so: trust me (faire Damosell) the Lord hath néede of him, and he himselfe hath no néede of the Shield, if he haue, hee may chance goe without it at this time, vnlesse he bring a larger Commission, or get my good will to deliuer it him, and commonly I am not accustomed to send a Shield by a woman, because it is a thing she knoweth not how to vse, therefore, she will haue it, bid him be so good as to fetch it him­selfe.

And because you shall carry a sound message vnto him, I pray you doe mee so much fauour as to let him vnderstand, that I will at this time, take the matter so hardily vpon mee, as to defende the Shielde against the vttermost hee can doe, when, if his Fortune serue him so well, as to con­quere me, the Shield shall without further trouble, be deliue­ [...]ed him: and if he prooue so happie, as to carry away the Shield by his Prowesse, I shall esteeme my selfe the most fortu­nate man aliue, for that when I loose it, I shall loose my life, and then will my wonderfull vnfortunate race haue a final ende.

Neuerthelesse, you must let him vnderstand, that séeing he doth estéeme so well of his Lady, as (for her sake) he will intrude himself into desperate aduentures, it is necessary he bring some witnesse or testimonie of her gratious fauour, which may bee [Page] placed at the féete of this faire portraite, least perchance for want thereof, when the victorie should chance to him, Fortune doe turne her backe, and so his expectation may be vtterly de­ceiued: now you knowe my minde, you may depart and tell him.

The Damosell returned to the place where the Knight at­tended, to whom when she had told the answere of the Prince, Florendos, he tooke his leaue of his Lady, and accompanied with two Esquires, came brauely marching toward the prince, to whom when he drew somewhat neare, he began very proud­ly to vtter these spéeches.

I sée well Sir Knight, that good counsell is not to be vsed towards them, who are of so small discretion, as they cannot take it when it is offered: it is méete therefore, that they be taught by discipline the principles of their duty, when friend­ly perswasion is yrkesome to their cares. I willed you by a friendly message, that you should send me the Shield wherein is the Image of Miragarda, because I would be loth by con­straint to come and fetch it from you: but I perceiue you had rather l [...]se it to your great detrimeut and shame, then to giue it me friendly, whereby you might haue gained commendati­on. And for my Ladies fauour which you demand, where­with you would honour the feete of this picture, I promise you here vpon my Knighthood, that if it be my ill hap to be conque­red, you shall then be made acquainted with the pledge of my Ladies fauour: therefore doe your vttermost endeuour to bring me vnder your subiection, for you shall see that I will giue you such a lecture, which I feare me you will very hardly con­strue.

Trust me Syr (quoth Florendos) your language is very braue a [...]d bountifull, replenished with large circumstance of wo [...]ds, if your manhood prooue answerable thereto in déedes: whereof I knowe not how a man might be better resolued, then to draw his sword (as I doe now) and commit the cause to present triall. Herevpon these two Knights prepared them­selues to the Combate, but as they were offering the one to­wards the other, they heard the Casement of a winde we in [Page] the Castle suddenly to open: which caused the Prince Floren­dos to looke vp, when he espied the princesse Miragarda, whom he had not séene before since his comming to the Castle, by rea­son whereof, he remained so inwardly rauished in delight, with gazing on this delicate spectacle, as the Combate was quite and cleane out of his minde, which the strange Knight perceiuing, he tooke him by the arme, and thus awaked him.

Sir knight, he that presumeth to enter Combate with me, ought not to be so forgetfull of himselfe, as it séemes you are: therefore either prouide to defend me, or I promise you I will goe away with your Ladies Shield. The Prince Florendos séeing that the strange knight had him by the arme, he remem­bred himselfe presently what he had to doe: whervpon he with­drew his eyes from the place where they were so greatly affec­tioned, and hauing his heart aboundantly charged with griefe, he began thus to frame his answere. It doeth greatly displease mee sir, to enter the Combat with you, for that you take mee in such a time, which I estéeme more, then the conquering you can returne m [...] [...]uantage.

Sir, (answered the strange knight) to the end you may per­ceiue, what small succour your present imaginations doth pro­mise you, defend your selfe so well as you can, and ere [...] you shall be perswaded of your owne folly.

With these words, he strooke Florendos such a terri [...] blow on the Crest of his Helmet, as the waightines thereof, constrai­ned him to bow down his head, but he was not slacke in the re­quitall thereof, which was so worthily handled, as the knights shield was broken in two pieces: whereat the knight was of­fended without measure, for when he beheld the Image of his Mistresse so cruelly martired, he [...] so extreamely to rage with himselfe, that he fought like [...] that was voyde of all rea­son or iudgement, which when the Prince perceiued, he neuer left following his knightly intent, til he had brought the knight almost out of breath, yet did hee not ouercharge himselfe with any extreame labour, but euen at his owne will and pleasure so continued the fight, that he was as fresh at the ending as at [Page] the beginning, and so worthily did behaue himselfe, that the knight (who had more desire to rest himself, because he was out of breath, then to endurr so hot a combat) was brought into such feeble estate, that he was constrained to fall to the Earth, verie greatly trauelled, and sore wounded. The Princesse Arnalte (whose inconstancy you haue sufficiently heard heretofore) was so sore displeased when shee saw her Knight conquered, as shee commaunded her seruaunts presently to rowe away, forsaking her Knight, and making no more account or estimation of him, then as if she had neuer knowne or seene him before.

The Prince Florendos, hauing thus brought his enemy vn­der his obeysance, opened his Helmet to sée if hee knewe him, then the Knight did humbly yéelde himselfe, desiring (when hee had taken what sharpe reuengement on him hee pleased) so to deale with him (if his minde were bent to such rigour) as at his hands hee might take his latest breathing, for that hee hadde so fondly thrust himselfe into the place, where he had committed so great dishonour: the Prince returned this answer. (It suffiseth me Sir Knight) that I haue conquest of thée, [...] I will that thou goe and present thy selfe to the Princesse Miragarda, and to suffer the Iudgement that it shall please her to assigne [...]hée, spea [...] to the Giant Almaroll, and hee will cause thée to know the Princesse minde.

The Giant (by the intreatie of the Knight) went to knowe the pleasure of the Princesse, who returned with this answere, that the Princesse sent commandment vnto Florendos, to take the Oath of the vanquished Knight, that hee should neuer serue any other Lady then the Princesse Arnalte, and that hee should beare the Deuise in his shield after an other m [...]ner, in respect she did thinke it farre vnr [...]able, that Loue should be helde captiue vnder the power [...] Vassall: wherefore hee should cause Cupid to be painted in his Shield, holding a Knight ba­thed in blood downe to his féefe.

Albeit this iudgement of the Princesse Miragarda was som­what sharp and rigorous, yet the Knight would not gainsay her determination: so causing some regard to be vsed in his wounds [Page] on the next day he departed thence very sadde and sorrowfull, to thinke in what displeasure the Princesse Arnalte so suddainly, went away.

The Prince Florendos remained a while at the Curing of wounds, and in the meane time the Prince Floraman maintai­ned the custome, accomplishing many hauty and noble déedes only to mooue the affection of the Princesse Miragarda, in more amiable and gentle maner to the good and hardy knight Floren­dos: but she (for all this) would vse no estimation of the great paines which the Prince did daylie suffer for her sake.

CHAP. X.
¶Here shalbe declared, what, and who the Knight was, that came in the company of the Princesse Arnalte, & for what cause hee and she trauelled to the Castle of Almarol, and of the great entertainment which was made in the Court of the Emperor Palmerin, at the arriuall of Leonarda, the Prin­cesse of Thrace.

HEre it shall not be much amisse to let you vnderstād, who the Knight was, that came in the company of Arnalte the Princesse of Nauarre, for that (if occasion so serue) you may haue the better knowledge of him hereafter.

It is reported before in the first part of this Hystorie, that Darpos the Duke of Nor­mandie, the sonne of Frisoll, king of Hungaria, had to issue two sonnes, whereof one was named Frisoll after his Grandfather, of whom mention is made many times in the Historie, and the other was called Dragolant, who (for that it is long time since he was reported a Knight at Armes) is now the farther out of remembrance. This [...] being a gallant young Gen­tleman, [Page] and méetly endued with strength to beare Armour, be­side, the great fame of the noble exploytes of his Father and Grandfather, did so imbolden him in couragious desire, as he loathed to spend his life in ease or slothfull idlenesse, wherup­pon he left the place where he had bene nourished and brought vp, addicting his mind to the search of Knightly aduentures, forgetting the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, where first the renowne of his déeds, might haue giuen the greater grace to his person.

In this his hautie desire, accompanied with one Esquire to beare his Sheild and helmet, he tooke his voyage towards the Realme of Spaine, being very earnest in affection to [...] the Castle of the Giant Almaroll, that he might approou [...] valour against the Knight that kept the Princesse Miragardaes Shield, but as he iournied thitherward, he was constrained to passe through the Realme of Nauarre, where by chaunce he happened to the passage, which was guarded by the Prin­cesse Arnaltaes knight, whereof two were vanquished by his noble valour.

Princesse Arnalte well noting his worthy behauiour, as also that he was a braue and lustie young Gallant, she vsed such friendly perswasion to him, that he went with her into the Ca­stle, where she entertained him with such honour, as she was accustomed to vse towards them, who resembled Dragonalt in bounty and prowesse.

This young Prince beholding Arnalte intiched with so great beauty, and vnderstanding that her dowry was to be Quéene of Nauarre, began to waxe maruailous amorous of her, being farre inueigled with her loue, as he iudged in his owne opinion that in her consisted the detriment of his his life, and dignity of his honour.

At length it so fel out, that the Lady and Mistresse of his du­tifull thoughts, was maruailous desirous to go sée the faire Princesse Miragarda, which being a meane for him to vtter his earnest affection, he made a reuerent offer to beare her com­pany in her iourney, for that he well knew, the more he did en­tertaine himselfe into her company, he might in the more fa­miliar [Page] manner procéed in his loue. The Princesse Arnalte was not curious in accepting his gentlenesse, in that his presence did rather adde an estimation of honour of her, then impeach her of any vndecent cause, wherefore all things being in a readinesse, with as much conuenient spéede as might be, she set forward towards the Castle of Almaroll, accompanied with the Ladies and Damosels, and six Esquiers, as you haue heard before, as also with this noble and aduenturous prince Dargonalte, who to witnesse the intire loue he bare to the princesse, many times by the way assayed very knightly occasions, wherein Fortune did still affoord him the victory.

The Princesse receiued no small pleasure at his happy chan­ces, in that shée estéemed so well thereof, as she thought him worthy to possesse her loue, which Dragonalt aduisedly pon­dering, frequented the Princesse with very amiable conditi­ons, so that in short time they came to a Citie, standing on the bankes of the Riuer Thesin, which made two leagues from the Castle of the Giant Almaroll, where they stayed till they had prouided two Boates to passe along the Riuer, wherein they came to the Castle of Almaroll, and Dragonalte had the entertainement as you haue heard before, by the noble and va­liant Prince Florendos, whose valour did mooue such a hatred in the Prince Arnalte, towards her affectionate & loyall friend Dragonalt, that she angerly departed from the Castle of Alma­roll, towards her owne place of abode in Nauarre, entending neuer to sée him againe.

But it is not to be doubted, but that this suddaine choller would take as suddaine a cooling in that, as she could be easily intreated to anger, against them who had but little offended her, euen so could she be as easily woon, to forget her desire of wreakefull vengeance, her vnstayednesse was such, and her good will to loue so great. In this manner it chaunced Dra­gonalt, who continuing his affection to the Princesse Arnalte, in the ende was so fortunate, as he obtaind her good will in ma­riage, she making him Lord of her selfe, and King of Nauar [...]e: wherefore we ought not to despaire of that, which is in the hand of Fortune to giue vs, as you may perceiue in the course [Page] of this History, which here leaueth Dragonalt & his Quéene to­gither, returning to Leonarda the princesse of Thrace, who be­ing ready to depart the Realm of Thrace, for the desire she had to be in the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, the Quéene Car­melia her Grandmother, sent her away worthily accompa­nied with Ladies and Gentlewomen, for the better gouerne­ment of her in her iourney: beside she gaue charge to the Lords and Gentlemen that went with her, in no case they should depart from her, vntill they had presented her to the Empe­rour.

In this order she set forward towards Constantinople, be­ing met diuerse times on the way by many braue Gallants, who vnderstanding her setting forth, did honour her with their dutifull attendance, vntill shee came to the Emperours Court, where was assembled togither so many braue Knights, so richly Armed, and carrying such fine deuises, as one would haue iudged, that they did rather prepare to incampe themselues for warre, then to shew knightly disports to delight the Empe­ror. Many came thither to behold the brauery others to doe the princesse Leonarda seruice, and some beside, who had good hope to winne her in marriage, ech one did striue who should behaue himselfe most gallant, and who might witnesse the greatest ti­tle of knighthood, as wel to please the eye of the yong Princesse, as to deserue the estimation of the whole Court, their honou­rable estates seruing them very well so to doe.

The prince Gracian, Berolde, the Sage Aliart, Platir, and di­uerse other knights of the Emperors Court, going in the com­pany of the aged Emperor himselfe, went to meet the Princesse two leagues from the Citie, who being aduertised of their com­ming (by reason that the Prince Primaleon with other Prin­ces, rid somewhat before the rest) did presently leaue her Coach, and mounted on a goodly white Palfray, whose harnesse was very rich and costly to beholde: the Princesse her selfe, was brauely attired after the Greekish fashion, that she might the better delight the eyes of them which did behold her, her Robe was of Carnation Veluet, very fairely imbrodered with pase­ment Lace of Gold, her Clocke was of Scarlet, closed before [Page] with sumptuous Diamonds, which were placed very thicke in maner of buttons, and all the compasse of the Cloke was like­wise garnished with Diamonds, hauing betweene euery Dia­mond, a ranke of very glorious Orient Pearle, which shined in the Sunne so gallantly, as they did maruailously decke and set forth here costly Vesture, and beside, the glimpse of them so sweetly dazeled in her face, as the youthfull Knights, whose thoughts were frée before from the assaults of loue, were now suddenly entrapped with her singular beautie.

The Emperor, albeit he was farre in yeeres, yet he did attire himselfe very youthfully, to giue the greater grace to the yong Princes that bare him company, so comming to the Princesse Leonarda, he entertained her with very stately and accusto­med honour, afterward he gaue place to the Prince Primaleon his Sonne, who kissed her hand in very gentle manner, and so did all the other Princes that came with the Emperonr, whose presence witnessing so great estate, did much content the mind of the young Princesse, who was no small deale abashed at the great honour, which the Emperor did so nobly affoord her, as to grant her licence to remaine in his Court, in remembrance of which courtesie, she would haue stouped downe to kisse y Em­perors hand, but her remembring how his court was gratiously honored by her presence, would not suffer her to humble her selfe so much, giuing her to vnderstand in very friendly spéech, that in her comming to abide in his court, he did accept it as a thing of no small contentation to him. Then setting forward on their way, that they might the sooner enter the Cittie, the Emperour on a sudden espied an occasion, which withdrew his mind from thinking on the beautie of the Princesse Leonarda, for he saw a prettie space from the cittie of Constantinople, vnder an [...]ake standing neere to the Hermitage of S. Lois, which was a little out of the common way, a knight armed in Carnation coloured Armour, so thicke beset with little [...] of Gold, as the whole Armour was gallantly set forth [...]erewith, his Helmit likewise was after the same maner, and in his Shéeld he bare for his deuice in a field of Azure, a Cipresse trée, very thicke hung with Nuts of Gold.

[Page] This Knight was mounted on a lustie bay Courser, hauing attending on him two Esquiers, one of them carying a Shield couered ouer with cloath, so that the deuice thereof could not be discerned, the Knight hauing espied the Emperour, sent pre­sently one of his Esquiers vnto him, who being come before the Emperour, rained his Palfrey, and began to salute him in this order.

My gratious Lord, the Knight whom you behold vnder yonder Oake, is supprised with a maruellous earnest desire, to trie against these Knightes of your Court, the renowned va­lour, which hath beene so much reported of them through the whole world, and he willed me to certifie you, that it is a long time since he bare Armour, or followed any Knightly aduen­ture, therefore he would now gladly make proofe of the good o­pinion he holdeth of himselfe, and because he might the better spéede in his purpose, and not be denied in his honest request, he is determined this day to guard this passage, not doubting but he shall defend himselfe sufficiently, against any that dare iudge so great hardinesse in themselues, as to passe by without asking him licence. Wherefore he humbly desireth your Ma­iestie, that you would command your Knights to Ioust with him, for he hath promised to refuse none of them, except the Prince Primaleon your Sonne, against whom he will neuer consent to beare Armes.

The Emperour was so ioyfull at these tydings as might be, and the rather he would consent to the knights request, for that it was a meane, whereby the Princesse Leonarda might re­ceiue some pleasure: considered also, that it did very well like him, because she should perceiue the noble valour and prowesse of the Knights that remained with him in his Court, and ha­uing opinion, that the Knight which had enterprised to guard the passage, was one well seene in hautie exercises, he returned the Esquier this answere.

My friend, say vnto the Knight thy Maister from me, that I freely giue him leaue to proceede in his honest request, and I am partly sorte, that my aged yéeres will not suffer me to be one in the number of those, who (I am sure) will hazard their honour, [Page] to get libertie of thy Maister for the Princesse Leonardaes pas­sage, and in her company I promise thée will I abide, till ei­ther they haue woonne it valiantly, or lost it vnfortunately. Then came he againe to the Princesse Leonarda (the Esquire being departed with this answer to his Maister) and to her he began with these spéeches.

Madame, do you thinke it reasonable, that any one should denie me the way within mine owne dominions and especi­ally at such time as I am in your company? Certainely, the Knight that hath enterprised thus to hinder vs, ought to be one of no small courage: except he doth imbolden himselfe by meanes of your beauty, and hoping to moue you towards him [...], doth offer his person to endure a doubtfull [...]

[...]antly had the Emperour concluded his intent, when Reccamon, who in his Court was estéemed for a good and har­dy Knight, gaue the spurres to his Courser against the strange Knight: but his fortune was so farre contrary, as he was pre­sently dismounted from his horse, hauing nothing at all moued the knight that kept the passage: whereupon Frisoll coutched his Lance against the strange Knight, who caused him to bea [...] Reccamon company. Then galloped he his horse to fetch [...] Lance, for that he had broken his other vppon Frisoll, [...] Grecian being somewhat offended, aduanced himselfe against the Knight, who méeting him in the middest of the way, gaue him such a forcible stroke, as he was constrained to fall to the earth: by means wherof Berolde put foorth him­selfe, whom the Knight caused to spéede as Gracian had done. The Emperour hereat was greatly abashed, beholding the shame which his Knight receiued, whereupon Dramian went to trie his fortune, which in sooth was to aduerse to him, as his horse & he fell downe both together, which he perceiuing, said, that his enemie ought not refuse to ioust with him once more: the strange knight hearing his words, gaue a signe to Dra­mian that he should giue ouer and run no more, but he would not be warned by his friendly motion, when putting himselfe vpon the second triall, he was againe throwne to the earth, ve­rie [Page] sore and dangerously wounded. This moued the Em­perour to be much agreeued, doubting lest the issue of this en­terprise, would returne to the dishonour o [...] the Knights of his Court, then Don Rosuell, séeking to reuenge the iniurie his companions had receiued, gaue himselfe forth brauely to méete the strange Knight, but his entertainment was such, as his fellowes had receiueed before him. When the hardy Prince Platir saw the ill hap of the Princes, he ranne couragiously a­gainst the strange Knight, and after they had broken their Lances, they met together verie forcibly with their bodies, and their horses fought together likewise so cruelly, as in the ende, Platir and his horse was compelled to fall downe to the ground, but the strange Knight sate still very gallan [...] [...] was not any thing hurt by the rough encounter.

The Emperour was ouercome with extreame griefe, [...] his knights beaten downe so fast by the valour of one Knight, so that he knew not well what to say, and the Prince Prima­leon was as greatly moued as the Emperour his Father, be­cause he suspected that the knight vnknowne, was the noble and valiant prince Palmerin of England, whose prowesse was worthely estéemed in all Princes Courts in Christendome: but he neuer remembred or iudged this strange Knight to be the redoubted prince Florian of the For [...]est, because [...] were giuen abroade, that he remained in the king of [...] Court.

In briefe, the famous behauiour of this vnknowne knight made them stand in their dumps, so that they kn [...]w not well what to thinke, neuerthelesse the Knights continued on the Ioust, to wit, Estrellant, Bellizart, & Francian, who were one after another placed among the vanquished, so there remained no more knights to Ioust: but on a sudden, euen as Francian was cast foorth of his saddle, Pompides and Blandidon hap­pened to arriue there, which the Emperour seeing, and know­ing them to be such as merited his fauour, he afforded them a gratious welcome, desiring them, that they would do their endeuour to make frée the passage, to the end that the Prin­cesse Leonarda might enter into Constantinople.

[Page] We are contented (mightie Emperour) answered Pompi­des, to make a proofe of our good fortune before you, as well to witnesse the regard we haue of your excellency, as to trie if we may attaine to purchase that, which so many good knightes, haue sailed in. No sooner had Pompides thus vttred his minde, but he gaue the spurs to his horse against the strange Knight, who in sooth compelled both him and Blandidon, to speed as the other knights had done before.

Then when he saw, that all the Knights of the Emperours Court were vanquished, he listed vp his Helmet, and came vnto the Emperour, before whom he fell on his knées to kisse his Maiesties hand: but when the Emperour perceiued, that the knight who had so hardly kept the passage, was his Ne­phew the Prince Florian of the Forrest, he was then as ioyfull of his happy victory, as before hée was agrieued to sée his knights so vanquished: yea, themselues did thinke it no disho­nor to them, to be ouercome by the noble Prince Florian, who hauing kissed the hands of the Emperour and Primaleon, offe­red to doe the like to the Princesse Leonarda, but shée séeing a Prince of such young yeares, to be accompanied with such sin­gular prowesse, could not so much account the [...]eof, as in her eye she did imagine it worthy her great good will, which sud­dainly (at this instant) she gaue in secrete to the hardy Prince Florian, for that his vertuous deseruings (in her conceit) did well beséeme her fauourable acceptation. And for the Prince Florian, whereas (vntill this present) his heart could neuer faithfully make any certaine estimation of loue, but euen for the present humour (as you haue heard before) now, the singu­lar courtesie of the Princesse Leonarda, as also the sufficency of her equiualent beautie, caused such a hot skirmish betweene loue and liberty, as he must needes yéeld himselfe subiect to af­fection, being conquered and brought vnder by his extreame charges, so that nothing agréed so well with his labouring thoughtes, as when he supposed the Princesse to commaund him seruice, and he (in good will) applied his dutifull atten­dance.

The Emperour Palmerin, séeing such libertie of the passage [Page] graunted by him who had now more minde to gaze on the faire Princesse, then to remember the happines of his obtained vic­tory came in this maner to the Princesse of Thrace. Madame, the knight, who all this while imployed himselfe to hinder our passage, is now not onely contented to grant vs libertie, but al­so will friendly beare vs company: wherefore I am perswaded, that we shall not againe be hindred in our iourney, by any knight that dare attempt as much as he hath done, for hauing my noble Nephew Florian in our company, I imagine it a ve­ry hard aduenture, which should in his presence séeme to im­peach vs.

CHAP. XI.
How the Emperour with his noble company, entered the Citie of Constantinople, and of the gratious entertaine­ment, which was made to Leonarda Princesse of Thrace, at her arriuall there.

AFter the Iousts were ended, which the no­ble and valiant Prince Florian had enter­prised in guarding the passage, the Empe­rour desirous to make knowne to the prin­cesse Leonarda, the magnificent entertain­ment he could affoord her in his Court, set forwards on his way towards Constanti­nople, the Princes, Primaleon and Florian of the Forrest, lea­ding the way very brauely, as hardy Champions to resist any dangerous aduenture, that should forbid them the entrance in­to the Citie.

When they were come into the Citie, they were receiued by the people maruellous triumphantly, who had prepared Scaffoldes, and Theaters, [...] was presented many [Page] strange Histories and rare inuentions, for the entertainment of the young Princesse of Thrace, as also to delight the aged Emperour, which albeit he was indifferently contented with­all, yet there remained an especiall cause of griefe on his sto­macke, to wit, the imprisonment of the King Polendos, and the noble Princes in his company. Belcar, and diuerse other approoued Knightes at Armes, rid on hastily before the Pal­lace, to aduertise the Empresse, and the Princesses, Gridonia, and Polinarda, of the comming of Leonarda the Princesse of Thrace, who came on feete a prettie way from the Pallace, where they met the Princesse, whom they failed not to en­tertaine with very gratious courtesie, whereat the Princesse receiued great contentation, thinking that they which re­ceiued her with such great estimation at her first arriuall, would continue her in fauourable iudgement while she stayed there.

After that the Empresse and Gridonia, had ended their l [...] ­uing salutations, the Princesse Polinarda, did next aduance her selfe, shewing very Princely and amiable gestures of cour­tesie towards the Princesse Leonarda, whose beauty she iud­ged worthy of great commentation: for I assure you, that whosoeuer did indifferently beholde these two Ladies toge­ther, could hardly iudge which of them surmounted the other in beautie.

The Princesse Polinarda, aduisedly marking the diuine face of the faire Leonarda, beganne to growe in great opinion of fa­uour towards the prince Palmerin, commending maruelloussy his sta [...]nesse and iustnesse in fidelitie, in that he would not for­get [...] loyalty to her, hauing offered him such an especiall trea­sure as was the Princesse Leonerda, and for whom he had suf­e [...]ed so great paine and trauaile, yet could not be perswaded to accept her in choyce.

These two faire and beautifull Ladies, holding one another familiarly by the hand, followed the Empresse into her Cham­ber, where her selfe, Gridonia, and all the other Ladies, sate downe to contemplate the swéet and delicate faces of these two Princesses. Florian was no sooner entred into the Chamber, [Page] but hee humbled himselfe to kisse the Gmpresse hand, who em­braced him very louingly a great many times, for that shee had bene alwayes more affectionate to his Mother, the Princesse Flerida, then to all the rest of her Children, in respect of whom, shee receyued maruellous contentment, to behold her Sonne the Prince Florian, of the Forrest, who (hauing done his du­tia to the Empresse (came and saluted the Princesse Gridonia, offering the same manner of honour, as before he had done vn­to the Empresse, but she would not suffer him to regard her so much: wherefore she cast her armes about his neck, giuing him such worthy entertainement, as so Noble a Prince deserued to haue. From her he went to the place where the Princesse Poli­narda sate, before whom he knéeled vpon one of his knées offe­ring her the same maner of courtesie, as he had before vsed to the Empresse and the Princesse Gridonia, but shée very maidenly and modestly did interrupt him, and taking him by the hand, be­gan thus to parley with him.

I sée now (Syr Florian) that at this present you come to make satisfaction, for the offence which you haue this day giuen to the Princesse Leonarda, by hindering her of the libertie of the way, wherefore I my selfe would adiudge you first to be punished, for offering such discourtesie, if I did not perswade my selfe, that you are able to make her recompence diuerse wayes, by your Knightly seruice, for the vnsufferable faulte which you haue this day committed: To which wordes, the Prince thus replyed.

I would that Fortune would make so good account of mee, as that the Princesse of Thrace would abase her selfe so much, to take in good parte my simple seruice, if I might attaine to so great happinesse, that any déede in me, might deserue the good lyking of such a gratious Princesse, I should thinke my selfe the most Fortunate vnder Heauen, and that no hazard could be so daungerous, as I should not for her sake easily ouercome. Wherefore (fayre Madame,) I heartily desire you, that you should perswade the Princesse Leonarda, to accept me as her Knightly seruaunt, which honour if she doo affoord me, the esti­mation I should account of my selfe would be such, as (my heart [Page] being encouraged by such a laudable cause) I should worthily fi­nish my aduenture, which might like her to imploy mée in: the Princesse Polinarda, returned him this answer.

Woorthy Syr, the Princesse Leonarda shall purchase to her selfe so great honour (by your Noble Knightly behauiour, in en­tertaining you for her vowed Seruant and Champyon, and I perswade my selfe, that long circumstance néede not to be vsed, shee will so gladly accept your honest offer: Wherefore if you doubt that shee will not so much ab [...]e her selfe, [...] receyue your friendly motion, I dare take the hazard here vpon my selfe, so that I imagine, she will not cause me to be deceyued. There­fore in signe of your permanent loyaltie, which shall bee to her, and none else but her, thinke not scorne to goe kisse her Prince­ly hands, which shall bee as the seale of a perpetuall bond, that you shall bestow your Knightly seruice on her, and she likewise shall admit you her continuall fauour.

The Princesse Leonarda swéetly blushing, to beare Poli­narda, so pleasaunt in discourse, turned to her with this affa­ble aunswere. Madame, you cannot wish or commaund mee the thing, that I would be so forgetfull of my selfe, as to make refusall thereof, and I estéeme my [...] honoured, to receyue the Prince Florian, for my [...] Champyon, in that I vnderstand, he is brother to the [...] Palmerin of Eng­land, towards whome I am so highly bound and indebted, as comparing my regard of him, with the good opinion I conceiue, (knowing Florian to be your beloued Kinsman) I will not re­port the summe of my thought, but desire I may be able to re­quite your kindenesse.

Polynarda contented herselfe very well, with the gentle aunswere of the fayre Princesse Leonarda, as well to be resol­ued of the speciall entertainment, which shee gaue to her No­ble Couzin Florian, as also to remooue the suspition shee had of her singular Beautie, fearing least her most fauoured Friende the Prince Palmerin of England, should fall into any lyking to matche with her, because she reserued him altogether for her séemely selfe.

The Prince Florian was not a little prowd of his good for­tune, [Page] and the Emperor would haue called him to him, but that he saw how familiar the two princesses were in talk with him, whervpon he determined (if good hap would so permit) to make a marriage betwéene him and the Princesse of Thrace, whom he gaue as bed fellow to his Née [...]e Polinarda, assuring you, that these two vertuous Ladies liued and loued so intirely together, as the one could neuer be without the others company, and what occasions of secrete sorrow so euer hapned, the one would not [...] of the other, in reuealing their close conceits, for they [...] of this minde, that it could not be called firme and faithful friendship, when all kind of such causes should not passe common betweene them.

At length the Emperor (accompanied with the Prince Flo­rian) withdrew himselfe into his Chamber, where he quistio­ned with him about the prosperous estates, of the King of Eng­land his Grandfather, and his father the Prince Don Edward, not forgetting his deare daughter, the faire Princesse Flerida, whom he desired (if it might be possible) to sée before he dyed: and after he had communed with him about many matters, hee caused the Prince to be brought into his Chamber, where the good Knight could not [...]sse the night so quietly as he was ac­customed, the [...] princesse Leonarda was so earnest in his thoughts, as [...] and tumbled, but could not enioy any wished rest.

On the next day in the morning, when the Emperour had béene at the Chappell to heare diuine Seruice, the Table was couered in the Princesse Fleridaes Chamber, where he dined in the company of the Empresse, Gridonia, Polinarda, and the faire Princesse of Thrace: but after that the Tables were withdrawne, and they had [...]tten a prettie while talking toge­ther, there entered a Damosell attired all in blacke, with two séemely Esquiers attending on her, she humbled herselfe be­fore the Emperour, with kissing his hand, and did the like to the Empresse, Gridonia and Polinarda, who very gently im­braced the Damosell, for that she knewe her to be one of the wayting Gentlewomen vpon the Princesse Targiana, at such time as she was there abiding in the Emperours Court, and [Page] before the Empresse shee stayed still, when the Emperor ha­uing knowledge of her, came and demanded other, as concer­ning the welfare of her Lady and Mistresse: to which wordes she answered in this manner. Dread Prince, and my most gratious Lord, I desire you that you will not receiue any dis­pleasure, for that you sée me rather inclined to the Empresse then to your excellencie, because the Princesie Targiana com­maunded me to addresse my selfe vnto her highnesse, as to one whom she vnfainedly regardeth: but for your grace desireth to vnderstand, how the Princesse my good Lady [...]a [...]eth, it is so, that she neuer came foorth of her Chamber, since the day that the Prince Polendos your Sonne, and the other Princes and Knights were committed to prison, during all which time, she hath not ceassed most gratiously to wéepe and lament, inso­much as her faire beautie is maruellously altered and chaun­ged, yet hath the Turke her Father laboured as much as may be, to dis [...]wade her from this mournefull kinde of life, but all in vaine he wasteth his endeuor, for she tooke her oath in his pre­sence, that she would neuer giue euer vexing her selfe with con­tinuall waiting, vntill your knights enioyed as frée libertie, as they had when they came with her from Constantinople.

The Turke her father fearing lest her extreame griefe, would be a cause of shortning her youthfull time, hath promised to re­store them for the libertie of the Prince Albayzar, whom they of Babilon haue request of him, that they may enioy him a­mong them againe: for this cause the great Turke hath sent hither an Ambassadour, who will be here either this day, or tomorrow morning, when your Highnesse shall vnderstand the summe of the matter.

And for that the Princesse Targiana feareth least you should denie to graunt what he requireth, which may mooue such an inconuenience, as your Maiestie would repent the great honour you bestowed on her in your Court, she put me faithfully in trust, to bring these tydings vnto the Empresse, in whose presence I haue made you acquainted with that I had in charge, because it te [...]cheth you more then it doeth any o­ther person. Moreouer, shee carefully pondering euery car [...]e [Page] with her selfe, and doubting least the mallice which her father beareth to the Princesse of your Court, will séeke a secrete re­uenge some way, as treason intended betwéene him and his Ambassadour, towards your Highnesse, to preuent the worst that may happen, she desireth you to returne her Father good words, but not forgoe the Prince Albayzar (whom you know her lawfull husband) before first your Knights be foorth of her fathers power, and that they haue attained such a place of assu­rance, as (al deuises notwithstanding) no harme may come vn­to them, but if after their libertie, such misfortune happen them (as she would be very loath) your Maiestie may (as you sée cause) finde your selfe agrieued with the offenders.

Faire Damosell (answered the Emperour) I accept very gratefully the good aduice of the Princesse Targiana, and I sée very well, that the honour she receiued in my Court (albeit it was but small) is now double and double rewarded: and per­swade your selfe, that I am determined to follow her counsell. The Emperour concluding his minde, the Damosell came a­gaine to the Princesse Polinarda, to present her with the gra­tious commendations of the faire Targiana: but when she be­helde the rare and singular beautie of the Princesse of Thrace, which set by her, the damosell tooke the hardinesse to demaund and if that Lady were not the Princesse Miragarda, for whom and by whom, the Prince Albayzar was vanquished.

In sooth faire Damosell (answered Polinarda) this is not the Princesse Miragarda, but this is Leonarda, the Princesse of Thrace, whom the noble Palmerin of England deliuered out of the enchantment, wherein she remained a long and tedious time: at these wordes the Damosell tooke occasion to beginne thus.

By your fauour, Madame, I knowe now who this Lady is, because I haue not forgotten the straunge aduenture of the Cuppe, which was brought by a Damosel into his Court: and I assure you that Palmerin of England was of a very strange nature, that he could both make so small account of such a faire Princesse, as also in refusing the stately gouernment of the Kingdome of Thrace Polinarda, desirous to mooue the Da­mosell [Page] from talking in that matter, willed that she would re­port to her the welfare of the Princesse Targiana, that had so friendly giuen them to vnderstand before, of the tidings which were brought thither by the Ambassadour: who beiug arriued at Constantinople, the Emperour sent the chiefest Princes and knights of his Court, to receiue him with very friendly and courteous entertainment: but when the Damosell heard that the Ambassadour was come, she presently departed thence to­wards Spaine, to go find out the Prince Albayzar, promising the Princesse Polinarda to returne by Constantinople, before she made her returne into Turkie.

The Emperour dessred the Damosell, to present the mes­sage of his good will to the king Recinde, as also to the Prince Albayzar, and after that he had bestowed diuers rich and cost­ly giftes on her, she betooke her selfe to trauaile, being verie glad, that she was espyed by none of them which came with the Ambassadour, who (as I haue already declared) was recei­ued in very Princely order, not as he were an enemie, but as became best the estate of him, to whom he was sent, who in sooth was of such a noble and vertuous minde, as when he should deale roughly and extreamely with his enemies, hee would entertaine them as his vowed and professed friends, and such was his courtesie to this Ambassadour.

To the Emperours pallace he was conducted very worth­lie, riding among the chiefest Princes and knights of the Court, and the Emperour himselfe (to doe him the greater honour) came and receiued him at the gate of his Pallace: but the proud Turke would not one vouchsafe to vaile his bonnet, or offer any honourable signe to the Emperour, such was his malicious stomacke towards him, who had in no case offended the Turke his Lord.

The Emperour perceiued well the small regard he had of him, by the words which the Princesse Targiana had sent him by her Damosell, but yet he suffred him to do what he thought best, vsing still so great courtesie vnto him, as at last he was constrained to shew more decent iesture, when he presented the Emperour with a letter from his Lord the Turke, the [Page] seale thereof was of pure Gold, and fastened about with a sumptuous Chaine. The Emperor receiued it at his hands ve­ry gratiously, and hauing viewed the tenour thereof, he desired the Turke to go take his rest in his Chamber, and the next day he would satisfie him in the occasion of his Ambassage.

I desire your grace (answered the Turk) that it may so stand with your pleasure, as to make me presently answer, without deser [...]ing any furder time, which when I haue receiued, I will goe [...]est my selfe in mine owne Tents, which I haue com­manded to be prouided for me without the walles of your citie, for if I should do otherwise, the great Turk (my gratious Lord) would find himselfe much offended with me: the Emperour re­plyed in this fashion.

You shall doe what you imagine conuenient in your owne conceit, neuerthelesse, I should not be any whit agreeued, if my Ambassadour did lodge in the Pallace of the great Turke, that he might the better fulfill his dutie in the charge committed to him. I beséech your grace (said the Turk) to let these néedlesse spéeches goe, and remember your selfe of the hundred Knights of your Court, which are held as prisoners by my Lord the Turke, and sée that you make some prouision for them, for my Lord hauing them in his power (to reuenge diuers iniuries, which he hath receiued by some of your Subiects) he determi­ned to put them to death: but to witnesse his gratious and no­ble nature, he is content (at the earnest intreatis of his daugh­ter, the faire Princesse Targiana) to giue them their liues, and to restore them in change for the Prince Albayzar, who is kept prisoner in the Court of the King of Spaine, by the com­mandement of the Princesse Miragarda.

But trust me, you are to thinke your selfe in no small fauour with the Princesse Targiana, whose teares were of such power, as to s [...]ue the liues of your knights, whom my Lord the Turke had determined you should neuer sée againe, vntill your Highnesse had sent him the knight of the Sauage man, that he might reuenge the iniurie which he (too forgetfull of himselfe committed, in carrying away by Sea his daughter Targiana, a deed truly worthy of sharpe punishment: the Turke [Page] there pausing, the Emperour tooke occasion to beginne thus.

Certainly, I confesse my selfe greatly bound to the Princesse Targiana, but farre more to the faire Princesse Miragarda, in that (had not her wise foresight beene the greater) my Knights had suffered the extreame rigour of death: but this I assure you, (that since cruell Fortune had so throwne the Dyce on mee, I rather would haue loste twice so many more as they are, then to send your Lord the Turke my Knight of the Sauadge man, in the presence of whome, here I faithfully promise to deliuer the Prince Albayzar, prouided alwayes, that you make me suffi­cient assurance of them, whome the Turke holdeth in vnkinde seruitude, whereof (how I may be certainly perswaded) I pray you vouchsafe me the knowledge, how and in what manner the case must be ordered.

The course which you must take in this matter, (answered the Turke) is thus, your Maiestie must send vnto my Soue­raigne and Lorde, the Prince Albayzar, vppon his inuiolable Oath, which (by mee) he voweth to you, and which you may ac­count of so great and sufficient truth, and he will not faile (by so great a bond) to send you the prince Polendos your sonne, with the other Princes and Knightes that are in his companie, and this you may be bolde of, that my Lorde more willingly would loose his life, then falsifie his faith towards your Excellencie.

The Emperour leaning vpon his arme, and noting well the words of the Embassador, paused a good space, without making any answere, which the Prince Florian perceiuing, being bet­ter acquainted with the infidelitie of the Turkes, then the Em­perour was: and fearing least hee would haue giuen credite to this subtill assurance, presently started vp, and began as thus. Most worthy Emperour, if you but consider the cause why the great Turke detayneth your Knights in Prison, you shall well perceiue the smal trust you ought to repose in him, in that the oc­casion was so little, and the assurance of his troth is much lesse.

Againe, if you suffer the Prince Albayzar to escape vpon his worde, you may chaunce (sooner then you would) to repent your selfe: For if you remember his vnfaithfull dealing to the Gi­ant Dramusiande, in the time hee kept the Shield of the Prin­cesse [Page] Miragarda, how (contrary to his vowed promise) he brought it from the Castle of Almaroll in the night, and com­ming with it into the Court, did brauely giue it foorth in spee­ches, that he had woon it by his knightly endeuour, which disho­nourable dealing he found in the end too costly.

Therefore it is very necessarie, that the King Recinde re­gard him more carefully then hitherto he hath done, in that the libe [...]tle of his person, will be the cause of sending home a­gaine your Knights. And if this Ambassador will take vpon him to maintaine, that this message which he presenteth you from the Turke his soueraigne, is onely with regard of royall clemency, I will defend the contrary against him, yea, and I will enforce him to confesse, that this proceedeth on the ear­nest instance made by the subiects of the Prince Alb [...]yzar, who are importune in sute, to haue their Lord and gouernour at libertie: for if it so fall out, that the Turke doe not satisfie this their continuall request, he shall be constrained to guard himselfe from them, who were wont to defend him with their especiall aide. Knight (answered the Ambassadour) thou shalt assuredly vnderstand, and I promise thee by the authoritie of my ambassage, which alloweth me to enter in armes against thée, that I will not faile to make thée know, with what reue­rence thou oughtest to entertaine, the vnreproueable word of my Lord and Soueraigne, and I doubt not beside, but to giue due recompence to thy disloyall and vnseemely dealing: where­to the Prince Florian thus replyed.

It is the most acceptable thing I make account of, for thée to enter the Combatte with me, in respect of good encourage­ment I haue thereto, and of the small honor that will fall to thy share. The Emperour perceiuing his Nephew in so great chol­lere, touched him with the Scepter which he held in his hand, to the ende he should procéed no further, and he was somewhat in­wardly offended, that he did giue so hard and rough spéeches: but neuerthelesse, hee estéemed well of his good Counsell, which to maintaine, hee came to the Embassadour in this manner. You ought not to be offended, when my knights assist me with their good and carefull aduise, and especially for the Prince Florian [Page] my Nephew, who is not ignorant long since of the custome & maners vsed in the Turkes court. And for the great Turke him­selfe, I haue that opinion of his faith and promise, as he hath himselfe, beleeuing well, that he would not for all the honour he professeth, violate or breake his word in any thing: but yet I dare not build or assure my selfe thereon, lest they (who now are prisoners) take occasion to complaine of my fond dealing, remembring the hard vsage they haue all this while suffered. Moreouer, if I should presume so venture so rashly, the King Recinde (I know) would not so willingly consent with me, whose sonne is amongst the Princes as a prisoner, & til he haue him in his owne assurance, he will not grant libertie to the Prince Albayzar: wherefore you may thus giue your Lord to vnderstand, that if he will send me home my prisoned knights, I will not faile to send him the Prince Albayzar: this request is but lawfull, and I promise on my honor to performe it. But if it so chance, that he doubt of any faithfull dealing herein, I will giue him a pledge of assurance, his owne daughter the Princesse Targiana, who I am sure will make answere for me, as well for the perfect knowledge she hath of my fidelitie, as also for the desire she hath to recouer home her husband: the Ambassadour standing a while musing, at last replyed thus to the Emperour.

I see well, that by the knowledge of ill doing, men attaine to follow that which is good and lawfull, and so I take my leaue of your excellency, assuring you, that the Princesse Targiana wil aduenture her life, onely vpon your word and promise: in that you withhold him who is her onely felicitie, and who hath done such noble seruice to my Lord her Father. In so doing (said the Emperour) she shall very highly please me, and for the good will I beare her, I pray you (on my behalfe, and with my heartie commendations) to kisse her Princely hand: for such is the estimation I haue to her, as she hath power to dispose of me, in anything she taketh pleasure to imploy me.

The Ambassadour made promise to fulfill his commande­ment, when (with a courteous obeysance) he tooke his leaue, and departed from the Emperor, who (after his departure) sate and [Page] conferred with his Knights, commending greatly the wisdome of the Princesse Miragarda, in sending the Prince Albayzar to the King Recinde, for whome (it would so come to passe) that he should yet againe recouer his Sonne Polendos, and the other Knights.

CHAP. XII.
¶Of an Aduenture which happened in the Courr of the Emperour Palmerin, and of that which follow­ed afterward.

THe next Day after the Embassadour from the great Turke was departed the Empe­rours Court, the same day in the afternoon, as the Emperour sate accompanyed with diuerse and sundrie of his Princes, Lords, and Knights, he perceiued to enter the great Hall, a bigge and goodly Aged man, so much weakened and ouer-spent with yéeres, as it séemed hee was ready to fall to the Earth. The Emperour iudged him a person of some Authoritie, by reason of his goodly gray-locks, and his faire long-milk-white beard, for he thought that such a séemely and Fatherlike man, would not deceiue the World with falshood and dissembling.

The Princes and others that kept the Emperour company, desired very earnestly to vnderstand what he would say, often­times beholding him very aduisedly, who when he was come before the Emperour, offered to stoupe downe to kisse his Highnesse hand, but he taking pittie on him, would not suffer him so to doo: then did he make such humble Salutations as he could, when the Emperour demaunded of him, for what occasi­on he was come.

My gratious Lord (said this Aged man, with a voyce so fainte and lowe, as very hardly he could be vnderstood:) for that your [Page] Court is alwayes so fortunate, as to entertaine Noble and ad­uenturous Knightes, who are euer ready to succour them that be destitute of their aide and assistance, I had good hope that they would not refuse to affoorde mée theyr fauourable refuge, in de­liuering me out of the great daunger, whereinto by misfortune I am suddenly brought. These heauy and sadde spéeches, he ac­companyed with such aboundance of teares, as hee mooued the heart of the Emperour to great compassion: then pawsing a prettie space, with a déepe and dolourous sigh, hee began thus a­gaine. I most humbly beséeche your Maiestie, that you would at this time comfort me with your gratious aide, to reuenge the iniurie that is extreamly offered mee, which in sooth is so great and grieuous, and commenced by such personages, as I cannot reporte the summe thereof without excéeding sorrowe, which might much offend your Highnesse. Wherefore, I pray you to bestow on mée such a Knight, on whose good Fortune I may liue in some hope of ease, and I will bring him into the place where hee may atchieue such rare Renowne, as in all his life time he can neuer attaine the like: to which wordes the Em­perour replyed thus.

Albeit in such perillous affaires, it is not necessarie to sende a Knight, without I were first acquainted with the cause, yet such is the great and excéeding pittie, which I take, to sée your grieuous sighes and manifold teares, as I must néeds consent to your request: but it were a great discredite to you, that in a man of such an Ancient and goodly time (as you are) there shuld be found Forgerie or deceytfull dealing, which my good opinion will not suffer mée to iudge so of you. And this Knight which you sée standing by me, is called the Prince Florian, of the For­rest: albeit some name him the hardie Knight of the Sauadgeman, he is my Nephew, and one in whome I put the greatest trust, to giue ayde and succour in a matter of such importance, and I sée hee prepareth himselfe to forsake the Court, and to as­sist you with his Noble and approoued valour, in any cause that you shall haue neede to vse him.

The Aged man, séeing the maruellous courtesie of the Em­perour, fel down before him on his knées, and after he had kissed [Page] his hand, spake as followeth. It is not in vaine I sée well (most famous Emperour) that both young and olde so thunder your surpassing Bountie, for the occasion which my selfe recey­ueth at this time, giueth me good cause to thinke, that the vtter­most I haue hearde in your noble Commendation, hath rather beene sparing speech, then sufficient to comprehend your Hero [...] ­call desertes, and I shall thinke my selfe the most happiest aliue, hauing séene that with mine Eye, which hath bene so often bru­ted in mine Eare. The Knight of the Sauadge-man aduanced himselfe to kisse the Emperours hand, in satis [...]action of the ho­nourable spéeche he vsed of him to the Aged man, who was still so earnest in his suite, as the Prince Florian was constrained to arme himselfe presently, and departed from the Court in such great haste, as hee had not the leisure to take leaue of the Em­presse, and his other Friends.

The Emperour fell into questioning with the Knights of his Court, if any of them did knowe that Auncient man, in whose company his Nephew Florian was so suddenly gon, but not one of them all could report of whence, or what he was. Primaleon was very much offended, that the Emperour his Father would command his Nephew Florian, to depart so soone with the aged man, not knowing first into what place, or to what aduenture he would conduct him: wherevpon the very same day, Berolde the Prince of Spaine, Platir, Blandidon, Pompides, Gratian, Polinard, Reccamon, Albanis, Don Resuel, & all the other most renowmed Knights of the Emperors Court, departed to folow the Prince Florian, for that they feared least any euill should happen to him, vnder the guilefull dealings of this Aged man.

When the Emperour saw his Court left desolate (in a man­ner) of the noble Knights that was woont to kéep his company, he found himselfe very grieuously perturbed in minde, fearing least some finister chaunce should happen to his Nephewe Flo­rian, who rode on still in the company of his Aged Guide, with­out resting in any place, til the next day in the morning, when of necessity they must stay to giue refreshing to their Horses, and when they had suffered them to féede indifferently, they moun­ted againe on Horsebacke, and rested not all that day likewise, [Page] till they were come within the sight of a fayre Castle, which stood on the top of a fayre Rocke, a Fortresse very del [...]ctable in the eyes of them that did behold it, at the foote whereof a goodly Riuer had his course, so déepe and dangerous, as they that went vnto the Castle, were constrained to passe ouer in a very small Boate, wherein two men could hardly passe at one time. The Aged man being very wearie with ryding, and desirous to haue a little ease, alighted from his Horse, vsing his language in this manner to the Prince Florian.

This is the danger (Sir Knight) wherin we must hazard our liues, if we be so bold as to venture our selues both together in this little Boate: therefore I pray you that you will alight, and you (for the more securitie) shall passe ouer alone, then your Es­quyre and I will come one after another, because we will bring ouer with vs the Horses. You reason wel (answerd the Prince Florian) in respect of your Aged and vnweldy péeres, as also in wishing me for my best auaile, therfore I intend to follow your counsell, for that I sée necessitie compelleth vs to doo as you say. At these words he dismounted from his Horse, and entred into the little Boate, commanding him that had the charge thereof, to passe him ouer, but scantly had he attained the middle of the water, when suddenly such a blacke and ougly clowde ouersha­dowed him, as the Aged man and the Esquyre (being on land) had lost the sight of him, which when the Esquire perceiued, hée was about to leape into the water to followe his Lord, but as he was in this desperate intent, he espyed a great Hill suddenly before him, which would not suffer him to passe any further.

Vpon this, he turned to goe to the place where he left the aged man, but he was so quickly rapt away and gone, as the Esquire could not possiby imagine which way he had taken, then the E­squire began to iudge, that the teares which the Aged man shed in the presence of the Emperour, was to no other end, but only shadow the treason which he wretchedly wēt about, so there he stood musing a great while, and after he had canuased out a thou­sand imaginations▪ a he concluded to search his Maister about all those parts, and if it were not his fortune to find him, he would then return to y Emperors court, to make known the vnfortu­nate [Page] losse of his Lorde and Maister, to the ende that the Prin­ces (who were his Friends) might take vpon them to enquyre after him, for such was the opinion of this loyall Esquyre, that the diligent search of a great many Knightes, might happily re­couer his Lorde againe.

The Noble Prince Florian of the Forrest, had no sooner got­ten the further side of the Riuer, but the Clowde conueyed a­way the Boate (wherein he passed) in such sort, as hee could by no meanes haue a sight of it, wherevpon, hée began to aduance himselfe towardes the Castle that stood vppon the Rocke, not fearing any daungers that might happen to him: but because the Rocke was high and troublesome to climbe, and the Armor hee had on very weightie withall, hee was constrained to rest himselfe thrée or foure times by the way, so that the Night had chased away the gladsome Day, before hee could arriue at the Castle.

When hee came vnto the Castle Gate, there came foure ve­rie gallant Damozells to receyue him, and after they had caused many Torches to be alighted, they shewed themselues very du­tifull to entertaine him into the Castle: which courteous offer the Prince would not séeme to denye, for that the Beautie of them did so much blinde him, as he had no minde on the Daun­gers that might suddenly happen, but hee fedde his Eyes with beholding them altogether, as one that had his will free and out of Bondes, because hee would neuer greatly hurt himselfe with affecting Ladyes. With these Damosells the Prince entered into the Castle, the Court whereof was paued with fayre and goodly Marble Stones, and when they had passed through this Courte, they came into a very great Hall, which was builded with maruellous Artificiall Antique worke, at the Entraunes wherof, the Prince was receiued by a Damosell, who had thrée more attending on her, but she was of so great and huge stature as a Gyant, albeeit shee was indeede a Woman, and not past sixtéene yéeres of Age, a very gentle and milde natured person, who tooke the Prince Florian by the hand, and lead him with her into an other fayre Hall, which was hanged with Tapistry of inestimable value.

[Page] The Prince being come into the place where it pleased the Damosell to bring him, he then tooke off his helmet, when his beautie séemed so acceptable in the eyes of the Damosell, as at that very instant shee gaue her whole affection vnto him, yet was she somewhat abashed, that she should esteeme so well of him, whose dealings was not vnknowne to her, neither of whence or what he was: the consideration whereof, turned her suddaine good liking into as suddaine hatred & disdaine, which she would gladly haue dissembled, and therefore thus beganne to parly with him.

Sir knight, my heart is at this time greatly supprised with sorow, for a grieuous iniury which is offred me, wherof I haue good hope to be reuenged, in yt so courteously you vouchsafed to come into my Castle to succ [...]ur mée, wherefore I pray you that you will goe rest your selfe for this night, because your tra­uaile doth require some ease, and to morrow morning I will recite the cause, wherein you may doe me very much pleasure.

Madame (answered the Knight of the Sauage man) I ima­gine with my selfe, how déeply I am indebted for this excéeding fauour, and how much I am bound to him that conducted me to this place, where I reioyce that it is my good fortune to doe you any seruice, which I account of so great honour, as were my life of greater value then it is, I would hazard it in any ex­treame perill, which your excellency did thinke well off to com­maund me.

The Damosell (who was not accustomed to be entertained with such Courtly language) presently returned him this re­ply. I thanke you Sir for your friendly offer, & I pray you that you would make a good Supper to night, that you may in the better quietnesse of minde take your rest, and tomorrow mor­ning we wil discourse of that, which I haue occasion to vse your aide in, and so for this time I did you hartily good night, then she tooke her leaue in such swéete and gratious manner, as her secrete intent of treason could be no way discerned.

The knight the Sauage man remained greatly [...]onten [...]ed, hoping to speede so well in the fauour of the Damosell, as fur­der causes of friendship should arise betwéene them, it may be, [Page] he thought to spéed so well with her, as he did of the Damosell which the Hermit rebuked him for, but what haue I to doe with his secret intent. The Prince is in his chamber, set down to supper, and there is very worthily serued by the Damosels, who gaue him entertainment at the gate of the castle, among them all, he thought best of her which waited of the Cup, for that in sooth she was very well adorned with perfect beautie, which made him forget his former affection to the Lady of the Castle, such (you may perceiue) was his constancie in loue. Well (in briefe) he began very queintly to deuise with this Da­mosell, and she likewise mooued conceit with her companions, the Prince glanced at her in amorous toying, and she iybed with him in double construing, but Supper being ended, he was brought by these Damosels into his bed Chamber, where (after he was in bed) she (who had bene so famialiar with him all his Supper time) came to him with these amiable spéeches. Sir knight, if the time and place were so commodious vnto me, as it is not, you should well perceiue the good account I make of you, but séeing Fortune is so aduerse to my determi­nation, and the burning Lamps of affection, must be quenched with a déepe and sorrowfull sigh, I [...]pray you accept of this King, whereof I make no small estimation, as an earnest pen­ny of further good will.

So concluding, she left the King in his hand, and not atten­ding the Princes answer, she departed after the other Da­mosells, and he remained as well pleased as could be, by the friendly language the Damosell had giuen him, for the loue of whom, he put the King on one of his fingers on his left hand, but incontinent the Prince was so depriued of his power, and brought so farre out of course with himselfe, as he could not moue or stirre any part of him, for there was a Stone in the King of such vertue, as he had no sooner put it on his finger, but presently all naturall féeling was taken from him. The Da­moselles were no sooner returned vnto their Lady, who was named Arlencea, but presently (bringing them in her cōpany) she came into the chamber where the Prince Florian lay, who was so maruailously enchanted, as he had no power at all to [Page] discerne them, then spake she vnto her Damosels in this man­ner. I sée now my friends, that our iourney is not imployed al­together in vaine, and I iudge that my mother Colambia will now liue in great contentment, hauing power to reuenge the death of her sons, Brocalon, Baleato, Calfurnien, and Cambol­dam, all my Brethren, but as shée pronounced these wordes, she cast her eyes vpon the Prince, and séeing how young and swéet his countenance was, she entred into these termes. I am greatly abashed, in thinking how so noble and valiant force should consist in a knight of so young yeares, and if all they had not the power to ouercome this one man, surely I must néeds thinke good fortune was on his side, this matter doth mooue me to a doubtfull opinion, and as it seemeth to me, his visage is somwhat comfortable vnto fortunes fauourites, which makes me repute him, as neare allied to her by supernaturall affinitie, and I assure you, I could very willingly remit the offences hée hath done, if the death of my brethren did not prouoke mée to séeke sharpe reuengement on him, who was the death of so ma­ny good and hardy Knightes. Thus, regard of her enuie, and his amiable personage, did mooue a secret contention within her, willingly she would haue saued him for his Knightly pro­portion, but the losse of her brethren was so grieuous vnto her as all fauourable pittie did quite and cleane forsake her, so that she was presently minded to cutte off his head, but as she was at the very instant to doe the déede, the aged man (who was sent to séeke Florian, and had brought him thither) arriued there before her, who knowing how to fit her fancie, preuailed so much with her, as he changed her angry moode, wherevpon he began as thus.

You haue no accasion (Madame) to feare that the knight wil escape from you, hauing brought him into such an extreame al­teration, wherefore, I pray you to change this sharpe and se­uere humor, and reserue his life till you haue brought him vn­to your Mother, who will take pleasure in séeing him die, that hath cut off the flowres of her honourable linage, and that we may deliuer him the sooner, I thinke it best that wee doe im­barque our selues, to goe séeke the Island where she remaineth.

[Page] Albeit my minde was otherwise bent (answered Arlencea) yet will I not refuse to followe your counsell, wherefore I de­sire you to goe to morrowe morning very earely to the Port, and there sée prouided for me a proper Ship, for I cannot en­ioy any quietnesse, in that I feare to loose this Knight againe, So, breaking off her minde, Arlencea and the Damosels left the Prince Florian in the Chamber, brought into such vnhap­py subiection, as to suffer and endure the sharpe sentence of his enemies.

CHAP. XIII.
Here shall be discouered what and who the Damosell was, that thus had gotten the Prince Florian, and of that which happened to him during the time of his voyage.

REmembrance is made in this history, that Collambra had no sooner intelligence of the death of the Giants Brocalon, and Balea­to her Sonnes, whom the Prince Florian of the Forrest had slaine, but she concluded to couer her griefe, & practise all the meanes she could deuise, or that fortune would pre­sent onto her, whereby she might be reuenged on him that had done the [...]e mu [...]ders, for such was the earnestnesse of her dam­nable and wicked minde, as the compassed a thousand horrible inuentions, but the immeasurable rage wherein she was con­tinually, would not suffer her to determine certainely of any thing.

Herevpon she came into an Island somewhat nearer, where she had good hope to finde succour and aide in her pre [...]ent pur­pose, by the meanes of an auncient Knight named Alfarnao, who had béene nourished long time by her husband, and made [Page] his aboade within that Island, hauing very great knowledge in the acte of Nigromancy, and a man altogether brought vp in subtill and craftie deuises: hée hearing the continuall com­plaints that Collambra made, was mooued to take compassion on her, so that he promised to helpe her in any thing hée could possible, to take reuengement on the knight of the Sauage man, whome hée knewe by his arte to be in the Court of Constan­tinople, wherevpon he came to Collambra, vsing to her these spéeches.

Madame, if so be it shall like you to follow my counsell, I dare promise to make you forgoe this extreame griefe where­with you are accompanied; wherto Collambra thus replied. I would not haue come to you from so farre off, if I had not per­swaded my selfe on your assured friendship: for the good opi­nion I conceiued of you, did cause me to addresse my voyage hither, being altogether minded to follow your friendly coun­sell. Since I perceiue good Madame (said Alfernao) that you repose so great assurance on my fidelity, you shall perceiue what a platforme I haue laid for you. It is so, that the knight of the Sauage man is at this present, in the Court of the Em­perour of Greece his grandfather, where he is growne so amo­rous in loue, that he intendeth not to depart of a long time from Constantinople: and he hath made himselfe so aduenturous in promise, (onely for the loue of his swéete Saint) as he will not forsake the greatest danger, wherein any one shall haue oc­casion to vse him.

Vpon this, I am determined to goe to the Court where hée now remaineth, and there prostrating my selfe before the em­perour in spéeches very sad and pittifully couched, beside, no teares shall want to grace the matter. I will earnestly request of his Maiesty, that it may be his pleasure to succour me in af­faires of great importance, whereout it is impossibly for me to escape, or also helpe my selfe, whereout the aide of one of his best Knights, euen he that is esteemed the hardiest amongst them all, I wil desire that I may haue no other but onely him. This request I know hée will not denie me, shaddowing my intent with such behauiour of vertue, as I can well enough, so [Page] that he will present mée his Nephew Florian, in that he is estée­med the most Noble and valiant amongst you all: and hauing once gotten him, I will conduct him to a Castle, which is vpon the frontiers of Greeece and Hungarie, where abydeth the La­die Arlencea, your onely Daughter: vnto whom I w [...] make knowne the horrible shame which this Knight hath doone her, and that shee ought to take sharpe vengeance on him, who hath offered her so great and famous iniurie, for without her aide, I shall not so easily execute the summe of my enterprise.

But you must not forget to deliuer mee your King, which hath the power to depriue the sences of any man, if once he put the [...]ame vpon his finger, and this King will I cause one of the Damosels attendant on your daughter, to put into the hands of this Knight, which he will presently put on his finger: and then will not I faile to bring him to you, to receyue such due reward as you shall thinke your selfe sufficiently contented withall: Collambra ioyfvlly returned this answere.

My deare friend Alfernao, I know well that the remedy of my passed trauells, and the vengeance for my children, lyeth al­together in you: which if you accomplish (as I know you can) I shall thinke my selfe for euer beholding to you: and well you may perswade your selfe, that you doe bestow your paines for her, who will not shew her selfe ingratefull towards you, but as I intend to follow your aduise, so will I compasse some meane or other, that may declare my thankfulnesse.

Then Collambra did presently prepare a Ship, wherein her Daughter was embarqued, accompanyed with foure Damo­sells and as many Knightes, the Winde and Sea seruing them so well, as in fewe dayes they tooke Landing on a plaine, not farre from the Castle, which the ancient Knight Alfernao had named to the Damosell Arlencea, wherein hee left her with her companie, and tooke his way to the Court of the Emperour of Greece, from whence (by the subtill meanes you haue hearde before) hee brought the Prince Florian of the Forrest, whome hée deliuered into the Castle, where this Arlencea the Damo­sell Giant made her abode, and how hee was vsed there, you haue hearde declared alreadie. Nowe come wee to the place [Page] where wée left, giuing to vnderstand, that the Auncient Knight on the next morning had prouided a Coatch, wherein (with as much speede as could be) they poasted to a Porte of the Sea, fea­ring least by the way, the Knight of the Sauadge-man would be knowne of some: but after Arlencea was imbarqued with this good Knight, the Marryners hoysed theyr Sayles, and ha­uing a pleasant gale of winde, they committed themselues to the mercie of the Seas: whereon we intend a while to leaue them, and returne to the Esquyre of the Knight of the Sauadge-man, who fearing least the Ancient Knight would offer some iniurie to his Lord and Maister, failed not to take which way hee iud­ged would bring him to Constantinople. Hee trauelled all the first day, and Fortune was so vngentle to him, as hee could not méete any person to demaund his way, but on the next day as he passed ouerthwart a Forrest, he perceiued vnder a trée Knight very richly Armed, hauing in his Shielde (which was borne by his Esquire) a golden Tyger in a field of Sinople: wherevpon hee presently rode to the Esquyre, whome when he behelde, he knew that it was Syluian, and the Knight before him, to be the Noble Palmerin of England: whose presence gaue the Esquire more assurance then he had before; neuertheles, with the teares trickling downe his cheekes, hee beganne to the Prince after this manner.

My Lord, albeit the newes I haue to declare vnto you, of my Brother and my Maister the Prince Florian, bee not so a­greeable to you as I would they were, yet can I not but I must needs report them, being perswaded, that it is in you to remedy this misfortune which is chaunced to him. Then discoursed he whole circumstance of the matter to the Prince Palmerin, who commaunded the Esquyre, to bring him presently to the place where his Lorde passed the Riuer, to goe to the Castle, which stoode on the high Rocke: hée being very grieuously passionate, as well for the misfortune which had happened to his Brother, as also breaking his voyage to Constantinople, to which place his earnest affection called him.

Then hee complained greatly on Fortune, who did applye her-selfe (as hee thought) to no other ende, but onely to breake [Page] his determined purposes, in dayly presenting him with conti­nuall perils, wherewith he could by no meanes escape without great losse of his blood and danger of his life: in these gréeuous agonies he fellowed the Esquire, vsing as speedy diligence as might be, least some should offer his brother discourtesie, and they arriued at the Castle on the next day about the euening tide, when the Esquire shewed the Prince the Riuer which he could not passe, speaking to him in this sort.

You may now (my Lord) behold the dangerous passage, where I lost the knight of the Sauage man my noble Maister: to which words the Prince made this answer. Cursed may they be, that were the first inuenters of these cruell enchaunt­ments, the extremitie whereof, hath bene the ouerthrow of many a good and hardy Knight, and hath made wretches and [...]owards to triumph in their misfortune.

Then came they downe to the riuer, where the Prince Pal­merin and the Esquire could not finde any Beate for prssage, nor yet the man that had conuyed the Prince ouer, by reason whereof, they went along by the Riuers side, till they came to a place where the water parted in twaine, and an entrance there was into a little Isle, whereto the Prince prepared himselfe to goe, as he sounded the depth of the Foord: but a Knight (who had couered his armour with the Skinne of a wilde Beast, which he had slaine) cryed aloud to the Prince in this manner.

Noble Palmerin, be not so hardy I desire you as to passe ouer for the water is farre more déepe then it séemeth, and you may suddenly fall into vnrecouerable danger: which to preuent, I counsell you to goe downe a little further along by the Riuer side, and I will not faile to shew you the place, where you may goouer in most securitie.

Palmerin well noting the words of the Knight that spake to him, presently stayed his horse, and maruailing who this Knight should be, at last he knew him to be his brother the Sage Aliart, whereupon he came to his brother Florians Es­quire, and commanded him to goe to Constantinople, and stay there, for that his presence did hinder him, when he was dis­posed [Page] to conferre with Siluian about the faire Polinarda, and he tolde him, that he should sooner heare tydings of his Maister at the Court, then in any other place.

The Esquier would haue gladly kept the Prince Palmerin company, but he would in no wise suffer him, but commaun­ded him to goe to those places, where he might soonest haue vn­derstanding of his Lord, and so the Prince departed from him, when, in small time he came to a place of the riuer, which was more broade and lesse déepe, then the knight [...]ried againe vnto him, that he might there venture hardly, because it was the su­rest place of passage.

The Prince staied not, but on the assurance he had in the Knights word, he entred the Riuer, which was not so déepe, but they passed ouer very easily, the rigor of the water hauing not the power to hurt the Prince, so they recouered the other side safe and soundly, which the Knight perceiuing, he came and offered himselfe to take the Princesse horse, but he would not suffer him, then he alighting, came & embraced the Knight with these words.

What should I thinke my Lord and Brother, that you so friendly come to succour me in my greatest néede? certainely I may assure my selfe, that Florian my Brother, shall be deliue­red from his present danger, by your meanes, which is of so great authoritie, and furnished with so high & singular know­ledge. My gratious Lord (answered the Sage Aliart) is it your custome, not to make any account of any mischance that may happen, because you imagine that your knightly prowesse is able to aduantage you in euery attempt, but I pray you at this time to forsake such opinion of your selfe, and be per­swaded, that Florian your brother is in great danger of loosing his life, for which I am very hartily sory, in that Fortune would not suffer me to finde him in this place. But so it is (as I haue gained the knowledge by perusing my Bookes) that a Knight did cause him to forsake the Emperors Court, to bring him hither to this Castle, rendring him into the handes of a Damosell Giant, the Daughter of Collambra, who is mother to the Giants, Calfurnien, Camboldam, Brocalon, & Baleato, [Page] whom you and your brother Florian haue slaine.

It séemes to me (said the Prince Palmerin) that we should forsake this Castle, and prepare our selues towards the Pro­found Isle, to embarque our selues, to trie if Fortune will so much fauour vs, as to permit vs his recouery: but I feare me some misfortune is come to him already, the feare whereof confoundeth me in extreame griefe: whereto the Sage Aliart thus replyed.

My Lord, it is not necessary that we should goe trifle the time in the Profound Isle, for if Florian be lost, this will be the greatest hazard that can come vnto vs, wherefore I thinke it most conuenient, that you doe your endeuour to séeke him foorth, not sparing day and night to trauaile: and I will take my course another way, wherein I will vse such diligence, as I will aduenture my life for him.

I beléeue wel (answered the Prince) that you will not spare any aduice, which may in any thing profite my Brother, and therefore I am determined to follow your counsell: wherevp­on they rid away very spéedily, vntill they came where two sun­dry wayes caused them to part from one another, when they ceased not to trauell earnest­ly, for that the losse of the Prince Florian was so grieuous to them.

CHAP. XIII.
Of that which happened to the knight of the Tiger, follow­ing the search of the Prince Florian of the Forrest his bro­ther.

PAlmerin and the Sage Aliart, hauing ta­ken their farewell one of another, rode on which way Fortune conducted them, the Prince himselfe trauailed all that night, for the desire he had to helpe his brother would not suffer him to take any rest, but this horse began to waxt very strackt and féeble, by reason of his excéeding great labour, so that the Prince was constrained to vse this spéech to Siluian.

Thou séest well (my trusty friend and seruant) that Fortune hath set her selfe directly against me, yet if I should giue ouer my present enterprise, I should blemish my credite with per­petuall infamie: therefore I intend to take the horse whereon thou ridest, and send thée away with mine (for that he is not able to hold out long,) vnto the néerest Port of the Sea thou canst finde, where thou maist take shipping to the Profound Isle, which in times past belonged to the giant Brauorant, who was the Father to the Giant Calfurnien, and there will I not faile to send and aduertise thée, of the whole estate of my iour­ney, if the time do not afford me contrary successe. But if my trauaile fall out so vnfortunate, as my newes shall séeme grée­uous and irkesome to thée, then I desire thee to goe to Constan­tinople, and giue my Lady and Mistresse Polinarda to vnder­stand, that I cannot make any account of my selfe, loosing the lampe and loadstone of my life, for, in that I am depriued of the same, I must néeds knit vp and conclude my trauailes.

Moreouer, thou shalt assure her, that the sum of my felicitie, consisteth in no other thing, then in the remembraunce of [Page] her gatious selfe, and contentment I did alwaies receiue, in thinking how long I haue liued in languishing for her loue, which was so déepely imprinted in my soule, as I was able to put to flight all those feares, which the earnestnes of my desire, with the compasse of the time did present vnto me.

But now that death hath depriued me of the meane, where­by my life was alwayes sustained, I haue no other remedie, whereby to comfort my afflicted heart, but onely the content­ment I receiue in my passions, hauing in remembrance that swéete she, for whose sake I liue to suffer. And if it come so to passe, as the hurtfull Plannets be displaced, and I remembred in the acceptable opinion of my Lady, I shall commit to for­getfulnesse all the angry stormes, which hitherto hath (euen) weather beaten my fainting spirit, and giuen course to a thou­sand calamities to fall vpon me: for I assure thée, that no acci­dent whatsoeuer can haue power to endamage me, so long as my very souleis set at worke, to contemplate the rare singula­rities wherewith her diuine spirit is associated.

Then if these spirits are resecued to ioyne together in fami­liaritie, mine shall not a little triumph, being thought wr [...] ­thy to offer seruice to her, whom, who so taketh occasion to be­hold, shall finde his wits superficially metamorphised. But it is so, that attending this long expected honour of felicitie, I know not how it can be possible for me to liue, being absent from her heauenly presence. For when I remember how in times past, I haue often vsed to behold her delicate Face, now (being fo farre from that happy meane) my griefe encreaseth so aboundantly, as me thinkes Death did me a good pleasuce, if he would bring me forth of the Laborinth of my restlesse de­sires. Therefore I desire thee Siluian, to present her my vn­spotted faith, and assure her of my firme and stedfast loyaltie, which considered in truth, will moone her to pittie my cease­lesse trauailes, which for none aliue (but onely her) I endure: yea, and endure it with such extreamitie, as is beyond the iudgement of any to perceiue. And because the danger is so doubtful which I now haue enterprised, as neither haue I any assurance to trust vnto, or hope to returne from such a trouble­some [Page] aduenture, I desire thée to be as faithfull a seruant to my Lady, as thou hast bene to him that loued her so déerely, for in so doing, thou mayst happen vpon a more honourable re­compence, then either I, or my vttermost power can giue thée: which (comming so to passe,) will not a little content me, in that he which hath proued so loyall and iust of faith, ought not to be respected with such an vncertaine reward, as to be left the inheritour of my tea [...]es and torments, in satisfaction of so honest and trustie seruice. And I cannot thinke, but when my Lady Polinarda shall consider the honorable obeysance, where­with I haue dayly and hourely regarded her, and thy vnfai­ned seruice to him, who hath thought so well on her, she will shew her selfe gratious and respectiue to thée, as well to wit­nesse her owne princely nature, as also in remembring thy ver­tuous and loyall deserts. But if thy angry Starres do so much repine at thy happy welfare, as she seemeth daintie in the knowledge of thée: good Siluian let it not séeme strange to thee, in that thou bearest a part with thy Maister in misfortune, for she neuer fauouring me, must of necessitie frowne on thée [...] and this vnkind dealing may mooue thee thus to iudge, that she is wedded in affection to some other, who must ioyne that happy content, which I deserued to haue by my vnhappy trauailes.

Thus breaking off his dolorous complaints, he remained so gréeuously afflicted in his spirit, as the teares which aboun­dantly trickled downe his chéekes, rendered a certaine testi­mony of his troubled heart, which he being willing to dissem­ble (lest Siluian should perceiue it) he gaue his horse the spurs, and without any more words departed thence, leauing Sil­uian so mightily ouercome with heauinesse, as he was con­strained to the earth: but when he had somewhat pacified himselfe, he mounted on his Maisters horse, which he doubted would not bring him to the Profound Isle, because he had bene so sore trauailed already by his Lord and Maister.

This good Esquire riding on very sad and pensiuely, at last spyed two Knights, whom he knew by their deuices in their Shéelds and their Armor, to be the Princes, Berold, and Platir [Page] to them he called, and desired that it might please them to stay a little: whereupon, the Knight (who knew him presently) staied, being abashed to sée him so badly horsed, but when they perceiued the teares run downe his chéekes, then they began to doubt some further harme, which made them demand of him for his maister, as also what happened to him, to be in that case.

My Lords (answered Siluian) I know well how to resolue you to your demand, though the report be not so agréeable to you as I could wish: then he discouered to them the misfor­tune of the Prince Florian, and how his Lord was ridden after him, to giue him succour. But the aduenture is so dangerdus (said Siluian) wherein my Lord must assist his brother, as his life will stand to extreame hazard, before he can helpe him ac­cording as he would: and beside, it is doubtfull he shall come too late, because his horse will hardly hold out: to which words Pla­tir thus replyed.

Siluian your Lord is so fortunate, and hath finished such rare and incredible aduentures, as I will not be perswaded, but that he will deliuer out of danger his brother, the hardy Flo­rian of the Forrest: and therefore content thy selfe, for he which had the power to end such noble exploits as he hath done, I am sure cannot faile this present occasion. But for the depar­ture of the Prince Florian, trust me, it did not a little offend me, and being now by you aduertised, that (without present aide) he is in danger to be lost, both I and my companion will not faile to follow him, because it were against reason to loose so good a Knight: and go you to the place (which you tell vs) the Prince Palmerin hath commanded you, and there shall you likewise heare tidings of vs, so soone as we shall possibly haue the commoditie to send to you.

The Prince Platir vpon these words tooke his leaue of Sil­uian, when he and his companion rid away very hastily, where (to the successe of their iourney) we will leaue them, remem­bring we forget the knight of the Tiger, who (after he depar­ted from Siluian) made such dispatch of way, as at length he came to a little Village by the Seacoast, where he entred a Venetian Gally, to passe by Sea to the Island of Collambra, [Page] which was very much famed abroad, by reason of the Giant which possessed the same: assuring you, that no Vessell what­soeuer might take landing there, during the time these Gi­ants liued, because their crueltie was so insupportable, to them which durst arriue in that Isle. When this Galley came neare vnto the Island, they were constrained to rowe close to the shoare, because the winde was so sore vpon them, as for two dayes they were greatly hindered, and on the third day like­wise the wind arose so extreame and violent, as the Mariners iudged, in the middest of winter it could [...] be more rigorous: so that they were driuen into a certaine place, where diuerse other Ships (being glad to auoide that troublesome tempest) had taken Anker, in one of these Ships was the Sage Aliart, being very sore passionate, least some misfortune should hap­pen to Florian of the Forrest his Brother. Neuerthelesse hée receiued some comfort in beholding the other vessels, hoping that fortune might be so fauourable to them, albeit the winde were so contrarie to their Nauigation, they might yet happen vpon some coast or other, as might happily bring them toge­ther to the Island of Collambra.

The knight of the Tiger vnderstanding that the Sage Aliart was there, and also being acquainted with his aduise, receiued great contentation in his minde, and because the tempest en­dured all that day, he left the Galley, contenting the Maister thereof for his paines, and came into one of those ships which were in the Hauen: but he would not goe into that Vessell where the Sage Aliart was, for that he doubted least their be­ing together, would be a hinderance to their seuerall determi­nations, which while hee was considering how farre different they were, the Princes, Berolde and Platir, likewise arriued there, entending to beare Palmerin and the Sage Aliart compa­ny in their voyage. But when they vnderstood, how the Prince Palmerin desired to trauaile without their company, they em­barqued themselues with the Sage Aliart, and setting forth of the hauen together, they kept company with the sight of one another, vntill the darke night did separate them asunder: for the winde rising againe, kept them (in short time) so farre [Page] aloofe the one from the other, as they had cleane lost the fight of any land, yet they sailed on couragiously, not dreading the furie of any winde nor rough billowes of the water, to the mercy whereof we intend to commit them.

The course of our History willeth vs now to returne to the redoubted Knight of the Sauage man, who was conducted to Collambra, in the order as I haue told you before, by the com­maundement of Ailencea, the Damosell Giant, who sayled with such a spéedy pace on the Sea, as her pleasure was grea­ter then I can speake of, for that shée had in her custodie the Knight of the Sauage man, with whome shée (and those that bare her company) in foure dayes, and soure nights (being so fauoured of the winde and weather) came within the sight of the Island, where the proude Giantesse Colambra made her residence: into whose handes, Fortune would not suffer to fall the Knight of the Sauage man, but raised suddenly such a mightie tempest, as they were all in doubt to be cast away, and in little more then an houre, they were cast so farre from the Island, as the Pilot could not iudge into what countrey the winde had driuen them, by reason whereof, both he and the Marriners remained so far out of quietnesse, as they could not tell to what Saint they should commend themselues for pre­sent succour.

When Arleneea perceiued this sudden alteration, shée was likewise so inwardly vexed, as she wished that she had neuer séene the Prince Florian, for she had none in her company that could promise her any ayde, except it were Alfernao, and hée was so worne with age, as he could lesse helpe then any of the other: then she beganne to encourage the Pilot to defend her in causing the marriners to make expedition, but al was in vaine, for their hearts did so faint, and their stomackes so failed them (seeing so great danger and trouble towards them) as the ayde which they should haue giuen to remedy this doubtfull trouble, was not of any account at all, and their vnderstanding did for­sake them so amazedly, as they knew no way to helpe the perils extant before their eyes.

Alfernao séeing the Mariners so out of heart, came to Arlen­cea [Page] with these words. Madame, I desire you not to abash your selfe, for in the assurance of your excellency consisteth all our liues: and for this misfortune which hath come vpon vs, it hap­neth to them customably which frequent the seas, and though now you see the waters so rough and impatient, in a moment you shall sée them calme enough againe. Wherefore, I pray you come forth of your Chamber, to the end the Pilot and the Mariners may behold you, for I am perswaded that in séeing you, they will receiue a fresh encouragement.

In this order as I tell ye, Alfernao did endeuour himselfe by friendly counsell (as much as in him lay) to cause her forget this fearefull motion, and Arlencea (at the request of Alfer­nao) came presently out of her Chamber: but when she beheld y furiousnesse of the water, sometime listing the Ship vp, as it were to heauen, and then throwing it downe againe to the depth of hell, the water likewise beating in aboundantly, her heart would not serue her, to kéepe the Mariners any longer company, but she went in againe to her Chamber, so full of dispaire and fearefull frightings, as (being not able to sustaine her selfe) she laid her downe vpon a pillow betwéene two of her Damosels, when, wéeping very bitterly, she entred into these spéeches.

I sée well Alfernao, the small recompence they shall re­ceiue, which enterprise such déeds as are dishonourable and far from dutie, and I beléeue certainely, that the Diuine powers are determined to punish vs, for the great iniury and disloyal­tie we offer, in séeking the death of this good and hardy knight, who slue my brethren one after another in plaine fight, not offering or taking any aduantage of them: which hautie derds, albeit I cannot let them passe without great maruell, yet do they make me verily thinke, that he fought in a good and a lawfull cause, in that he despised the exceeding crueltie and tyranny, wherein my proud and presumptuous brethren liued, which disorder of life, being rightly chastised by the pro­wesse of this Knight, we set our selues against all reasonable regard (in my iudgement) to practise his death for well doing. And we being forgetfull to sift the iustnesse of the cause, goe [Page] about to depriue this good Knight of his life, in the reuenge of whose innocencie, the wrathfull anger of the Heauens is fallen vpon vs: wherefore, to auoyde and flie the extremitie betime, least wee fall into a woorse inconuenience, I am resolued to chaunge my angrie moode, thinking it better to take the Ring from him, which caused him to sléepe so soundly, then thus to a­bide the sharpe countenance of the wreakefull powers, whome (whether I will or no) I must obey.

Arlencea hauing spoken what pleased her, commanded the Chamber doore to be opened, where the knight of the Sauadge-man lay, and when she had taken the Ring from him, hee was in as good estate as hee was before, yet not without great mar­uell in himselfe, when he perceiued he was in a ship on the Sea, and so compassed about with faire Damosells, who wept verie grieuously, to see themselues in so great daunger. The Prince in this amazement, came foorth of his Chamber, when he saw how the furious waues of the Water did tosse and turmoyle their Barke, and how the Pilot, the Marriners, and euery one in the Ship, theyr harts were dead, because [...]hey knew no way how to helpe themselues: Wherupon he beganne with noble words to chéere and encourage them, but the extream feare they had generally conceyued, caused them to make small estimation of his words.

Then was he more and more abashed, but especially to sée himselfe in such a place, where it was the least parte of his thought to haue come, and how he came so Embarqued from the Castle, where the Damosells came and entertained him so ex­ceeding friendly at the Gate thereof. This strange aduenturs made him oftentimes desirous to demund how and after what sort he chanced thither, but the danger which hee saw imminent before his eyes, would not affoord him so much leisure, but com­pelled him to settle his thoughtes on that which was more ne­cessarie. The Marriners by the often int [...]eaty, and friendly be­hauiour of the Prince, began somewhat to comfort themselues, which when as he beheld, hee went into the Chamber to Arlen­cea, where sitting downe by her, hée beganne his spéeches after this order.

[Page] Madame, I would I might intreate you to forsake those fearfull passions, and to regarde him who estéemeth maruellous well of your diuine Beautie, the tempest beginneth by little and little to loose his force, and therefore let my perswasion some­what appease you, for these teares wherewith you offend your gratious countenance, is as grieuous for me to beholde, as it is bootlesse for you so much to hurt your selfe.

Arlencea hearing the courteous language of the Prince, and noting withall his séemely countenance, reioyced that shee had so spared his life at the intreatie of Alfernao, and the malici­ous reuenge which she sought before, was now changed againe into good opinion of Loue, whereat the Knight of the Sauadge-man was very well pleased, but Alfernao remained most grie­uously passionate, knowing well that his enterprise could come to no good ende.

The Night being spent, at the breake of day the tempest cal­med, when the Pilote gaue them to vnderstand, that they were arriued on the Coast of Spaine, which words displeased Alfer­nao in the hearing, and while he sate vttering silent complaints to himselfe, the Pilote discouered the Cittie of Malaga, which then was helde and kept by the Turkes: then the Prince tooke Arlencea by the hand, and led her foorth on the hatches to shew her the land, when causing her to sit downe, he desired her that she would report vnto him, after what manner he was brought into the Shippe, wherein he had slept so long, without know­ledge of himselfe.

Worthie Syr (aunswered Arlencea) so that it shall please you to let all former angrie occasions passe, and pardon what I say in your Knightly courtesie, you shall be resolued in your ear­nest desire, and therewith assuring you, that Loue hath brought mee into such estate, and hath mooued such a forcible affection in mée towardes you, so as I will not conceale any iote of the trueth from you. Then shée recounted at large the whole en­terprise of Collambra, and the aged Knight Alfernao, whose treason did so astonish the Prince, as hee brake foorth into these spéeches.

[Page] Madame, the desire wherewith I came to doe you seruice, did not deserue the vnkinde dealing wherewith you haue vsed me, but since it is so, that my trauaile hath béene imployed in vaine, I desire you to affoord me so much fauour, as to report the guile whereby Alfarnao brought me hither, who I knowe was perswaded to commit me to the cruelty of your Mother, which should be so great towardes me, as nothing would con­tent her but my death. And let it not offend you, that I goe into my chamber to arme my selfe, because I will compell all these in your company vnder my obeysance: and this you may perswade your selfe, that I will not forget your gentlenesse in any trauaile whatsoeuer, but will maintaine your excellency, being so bound by your good desertes, whereto Arlencea thus replyed.

My Lord, I desire you to consider, that your singular courte­sie ioyned with the vnfained good will I beare you, caused mee to discouer this damnable treason intended against you, which I thought too vnkind for him, to whom I could find in my hart to submit my selfe: in recompence whereof, I desire you would remember, that I shall not onely loose the presence of Collam­bra my Mother, and likewise my patrimony, but also I shall receiue such a common bruite of ill report, as euery one will wound me with malicious spéech, in yéelding my selfe into your hands, who haue so cruelly slaine my Brethren.

Madame (answered Florian) I pray you forget the remem­brance of loosing your Mothers fauour, or any other such opi­nion, in regard of the good may happen to you, for if Fortune fauour me no worse then she hath done, I wil not faile to make a double requit all of your kindnesse: and that you may repose the better assurance on my words, I here protest my selfe at your commandement.

In the meane time, while Florian spent the time in this talke, he vnderstood how they in the Shippe went about some enterprise against him, by meanes whereof he left Arlencea, but she followed him into his Chamber to helpe to arme him, and ere he had girded himselfe in his Mayle coate, Alfernao, with foure other in his company, came to the Chamber doore [Page] to lay hands on him, but they missed of their purpose, for Flori­an comming to them, by maine strength thrust them foorth of the Chamber, with these wordes. The time is now come Al­fernao, wherein thy traiterous dealings shall be worthily re­compenced.

Then lifting vp his sword to haue smitten him, the other fiue stepped before and defended him, wherewith the Prince was so much mooued, and he besturd himselfe so among them, as two of them quickly tumbled at his feete, the other two sée­ing that, and knowing the small pittie Florian would shewe them, tooke heart afresh, and came to the Prince, assailing him couragiously, but he laying before them the treason of olde Al­fernao, gaue them such cruell and terrible strokes, as he cut off the arme of one of them hard by the shoulder, and the fourth (for feare) was glad to leape into the Sea.

Then Alfernao seeing his life brought into so great danger, came and humbled himselfe before Arlencea, in this manner. Madame, if the vnfained loue I haue alwayes vsed, in doing seruice to your mother and your selfe, deserueth any gratious respect, then is it necessary that you affoord it me, and if that loyaltie ought to be recompenced as it hath worthily merited, then I desire you to intreate for me the fauour of this Knight, for your word (I knowe) may preuaile so much with him, as his anger will be pacified, and my life saued.

The Damosell Giant was so amazed at the noble prowesse of the Prince, as she knew not how to addresse her selfe to him to mooue intreatance, but being (as it were) in a quandarie, had not power to answere Alfernao, nor yet to fulfill what he had requested: neither would Florian deale extreamely wish him, séeing him on his knées before Arlencea, for whose sake he thus began.

Trust me, Madame, Alfernao had good Fortune to render himselfe to you, for that you haue the power to preserue his life, contrary to his deserts, if I should goe to the vttermost. Arlencea did maruellously estéem the great humanitie, which the Prince vsed to Alfernao, who (at her commaundement) was put in sure guard, fearing least he should practise any [Page] more treason, and the Prince beganne to estéeme very well of Arlencea (according as her honest and vertuous nature deser­ued) as well for the laudable bountie of her gentle minde, as al­so for vsing him so kindly as she had done: but albeit he was subiect to voluptuous pleasure, yet beholding the chast regard this Damosell had of her selfe, she bridled her affection, and de­termined to bestow her as wife on his great friend the Giant ant Dramusiande, for he iudged it the part of a friend, to wish such an one to his friend, as hee knew to be acquainted with vertue and chastitie, and to subdue that wicked desire in himselfe, which should mooue him to violate his faith to his friend.

And for the Damosell her selfe, albeit she preferred the no­ble behauiour of the Knight of the Sauage man, worthy the vt­termost straine of her abilitie, yet had she an especiall regard of her honour, knowing it to be the chiefest ornament to make her estéemed of: and therefore shee behaued her selfe discréetely and wisely, gayning the good commendation of all that knewe her as the Historie hereafter will declare vnto you.

CHAP. XV.
Of that which happened to the Knight of the Sauage man, after he was come on land.

WHeu the Noble Prince Florian, had thus vanquished Alfernao, and his companions, being so neare the shore, he determined to goe on land, wherevpon he commaunded the Pilote to drawe to the shore, which he presently did, landing them in a hauen be­longing to Recinde the King of Spaine, where they rested themselues certaine dayes, because Arlencea [Page] and her Damosels were somewhat sickly with their trauile, and Alfernao desired the knight of the Sauage man, that he would giue him leaue to returne into his owne country, séeing he was arriued in a place of assurance, and where he little née­ded to feare any danger: to which demaund the Prince shaped this answer.

I am wel assured Alfernao, that the Court of Constantino­ple is greatly troubled by your meanes, therefore I intend you shall depart no whither else, before you haue sworne to me to go to the Emperour againe, to let him vnderstand what hath happened to me, from the time that your false teares made me forsake the Court, euen vntill the infrant that we came hi­ther, which you may do well enough, without any feare of pu­nishment that the Emperour will lay on you, because his cle­mency is farre greater then thy euill deserts, which in sooth shall neuer be laid to thy charge, in respect of the great good will I beare to Madame Arlencea, whose friendly pittie hath deepely bound me, in deliuering me out of the perill, wherein your ma­lice hath craftily caught me, euen as you may at large declare vnto the Emperour.

My Lord (sayd Alfernao) libertio is so highly estéemed, and so greatly desired by them who are well acquainted with it, as sometimes the desire to recouerit, by him that was so wilfull to forgo it, maketh him for to put his life in great ieo­pardie: then, seeing himselfe brought into such mishappe, that he commeth in such sort to repen thimselfe, as he wisheth rather continuall seruitude, then to haue liberty once, and then to loose it.

In this order it fareth with me at this time, who being de­sirous to liue out of thraldome, am content to obey your no­ble commandement, yet not without feare of some inconueni­ence: but such is the hope I haue in the Emperours bountie, as I trust to be pardoned for the heinous offence, wherein I haue displeased his imperiall Maiestie, then comming to Ar­lencea, he said.

Madame, bethinke your self in what it shal please you to cō ­mand me to your mother, if so be it fall out, y I happen to the [Page] place where she is, to which words Arlencea replied thus. You may giue her to vnderstand from me, that I thinke it necessa­ry she become friends with the Knight of the Sauage man, if she desire that I should remaine her obedient daughter, and I request that she would forget the death of my Brethren, in that seeking to reuenge their losse, she cannot otherwise doe but cut off her daughters life: and this you may very well as­sure her, that if she refuse to graunt my request, she shall from henceforth neuer more sée me, for I haue yéelded my selfe to o­bey the commandement of the Knight of the Sauage man, who doth me such honor, as I esteeme the greatest good fortune that euer could come to me, in conducting me to the Emperours Court, where I shall be acquainted with the gratious behaui­our of diuers noble and vertuous Princes, and likewise I shal learne to amend my vnciuil conditions, seeing the rare qualities vsed in that renowmed Court.

Madame (answered the Knight of the Sauage man) to sée you in this good and vertuous minde, I cannot chuse but con­ceiue great contentment, and when it shall be my fortune to come to the Court, you shall perceiue how well I thinke of you in the meane time, to render you some assurance of that which I say, I pray thée Alfarnao, report to the Emperour, in what good mind thru diddest leaue the Lady Arlencea, and that I humbly request his Maiesty, that she may lawfully receiue Baptisme, to the end, that the Empresse may bestow such a Lordly care on her, as her vertuous qurlities doth well de­serue.

Alfernao promised to fulfill his whole commandement, and so he tooke his leaue of them, not able to endure the sight of the amiable courtesie, which Arlencea vsed to the knight of the Sa­uage man, who soiourned there a pretty space, while he had prouided him of necessary things for trauaile, because he in­tented to ride about the countrey there, to shew the estate thereon to Arlencea, and her Damosels.

When all things were in readinesse, he set forward with his faire company, and the first day, somewhat towards the euening, they arriued within a faire and goodly valley, well [Page] furnished with Trées, where, comming neare to a pleasant Fountaine, they espied where two seuerall Tents were pit­ched, and not farre from them, they beheld foure Damoselles walking for their recreation vnder the gréene trées, to shroud themselues from the parching heate of the Sunne: vpon which occasion, Arlencea thus spake to the Prince.

If I iudge (amisse good Sir) these Damosels I coniecture receine farre greater pleasure then I, in that they are frée to their contentation, and I haue put my libertie into his hands, who maketh but small account thereof. The prince made shew as though he vnderstood not what Arlencea said, wherefore to change her present fantasie, which procéeded of the intire loue she bare to him, in other familiar talke he passed away the time vntill they came somewhat neare to the Tents, which were as rich and faire as could be deuised: and while Florian stood still taking pleasure to behold them, a Damosell came and vsed this conference with him.

Me thinkes it is a thing very strange (Sir Knight) that one man should take vpon him to conduct fiue Damoselles, in that it cannot chuse but be a very great charge, whereof I will something ease you, if so be it shall like you to follow my coun­sell, which shall not be to your disaduantage: wherto the prince thus answered.

Albeit I cannot thinke ill of your courteous spéeches, where­with you kindly come to salute me, yet shall you not perswade me to any thing, except it be accompanied with vertue and ho­nestie: therefore I desire you to satissfie mée of your opinion, which standing with reason, I shall not faile to follow, as one that would not willingly disobey any good counsell. I am con­tent (saide the Damosell) to an were your demaund, where­fore you shall vnderstand, that we are foure Damolles, and are garded here by foure knights, who will not be long before they come hither, with whome (if you please, you may try the I oust, and which of them shall happe to be vanquished, must of necessitie deliuer you his Lady, and you must be content to doe the like, if Fortune denie you the fauour of victorie: but if she respect you with her friendly eye, and allowe you for her happy [Page] conquerour, all we foure shall be deliuered to you, which cannot be greater hinderance vnto you, in conducting nine ladies, then these fiue. On the other side, if Fortune throwe you in discoun­tenance, and commit you to our knights as vanquished, foure of these Ladies must be taken from you, but the fift you shall be suffered to enioy still: thus you sée the I oust cannot be any way disagréeable to you, for which way so euer it happens, you can­not lacke both pleasure and profite.

Gentlewoman (answered the Knight of the Sauage man) you séeme so well acquainted with gentle behauior, as to gaine you, I will ieopard the aduenture to loose my selfe: and I pro­mise you I thinke the time too long, vntill I haue made a con­quest of you: whereto the Damosell made this answere. I pray you sir, doe not thinke you shall purchase vs so lightly, in that the desire you haue to defend those Ladies which you con­duct, will hardly permit you to spéed so soone, such hardy valour you shall finde in those Knights, which haue attempted to de­fend vs.

The Damosell had no sooner ended her words, but a Dwarfe (being néere at hand vnderneath a trée) began to sound a trum­pet, which he did with so high a note, as it brought a gallant Eccho from the whole valley: then the Prince looking aside, e­spied foure knights come prauncing along the valley, armed in white and gréene Armour, their helmets very richly gilded, and vpon them they had faire garlands of flowers, and in their Shields (which their Esquires brought after them) was por­traited siluer Swannes in a field of Sinoble. When they were come to the place, where the Damosell talked with the Prince, she rehearsed vnto them what cōmunication had passed: wher­vpon one of them thus answered her.

Madame, so it may be your pleasure, I will not feare to aduenture any danger, but I would be loath to be so vnhappy as to loose you, without I might expect greater profit to happen for I would more willingly be depriued of my life, then to a­bide such a hard and irksome extremitie, as to be forced to com­mit you into the custodie of another, being more desirous to kéepe you my selfe.

[Page] Trust me sir (answered the Damosell) if you séeke thus to excuse your selfe with words, that you would not wlllingly endure the Ioust, then will you proue me false in my words to the Knight, to whom the Ladies (which beare him compa­ny) are greatly beholding, in séeing him to aduenture the triall so worthily himselfe, against vs that haue each one a knight to defend her. Madame (said the knight) this Gentleman estée­meth it a great trouble to him, to be burdened with so many Ladies, and therefore he would willingly be vanquished, to the and he might be discharged of them: so, in séeking to shun small occasions of harme, he steppeth into a maze of greater danger: whereto the Prince gaue this answer.

Truly sir, you are very farre from my meaning, and so farre as I giue you to vnderstand, as I do not onely entend to guard these Damosels which are in my compnny, but that which is more, I will disburden you of those foure Ladies which you presume to defend, and carrie them away with me. And if you do not manfully behaue your selfe on their behalfe, truely I shall be much displeased with you, for I am woont to make no account of the victory, except I may atchieue it with great losse of my blood. Well then sir (answered the knight) seeing you de­sire to make your valor seene to these Ladies, prepare your selfe to entertaiue me: with which words he clapt downe the Be­uer of his Helmet, and hauing couched his Lance, he fetcht his course against the knight of the Sauage man, who welcom­med him very brauely: and albeit the knight brak his lance worthily, yet such was the rough charge the Prince gaue him, as he was constrained to measure his length on the earth, be­ing so greatly amazed with his fall, as he lay a good space with­out mouing himselfe, in the meane while, the knight of the Sa­uage man came to the Damosell, with whom he had talked before, speaking to her in this manner. I perceiue Madame, his Knight is not able to kéepe her, whom he hath enterprised to defend, wherefore I pray you discharge your selfe of the pro­mise, which you said I should enioy, by reason of your custome here appointed: to which words the Damosell framed this reply. You haue done your dnty so well, and like an approued [Page] knight at Armes, as I might be worthily apprehended of in­gratitude, if I should withhold that from you, which you haue so well descrusd: therefore since the lot hath first fallen on me, whom this knight did enterprise to defend, I submit my selfe to you, desiring you, that you would entertaine me among these other Ladyes, which request I make in requitall of his misfortune, who hath thus vnluckily lost me.

The Prince very fauourably respected the Damosell, and would haue made her answer, but the second knight cryed to him, that he should prepare himselfe, whereupon they set the spurres to their horses, and encountred with such valour, as the trunchions of their speares flew vp gallantly into the aire: then comming againe to their second triall, the Prince gaue the knight such a forcible stroke, as he threw him to the earth, with one of his legs broken.

The other two Knights, séeing the great dishonour their fellowes had receiued, and doubting they should spéed no bet­ter themselues, they ran both together against the Knight of the Sauage man, and dealt very discourteously with him, yet had they not the power to vnhorse him, but so soone as he could gaine the opportunitie (béeing loath to trust too much to their gentlenes) he alighted from his horse, and drawing his sword, he came to them with these words. Indeed Gentleman, you haue gotten the aduantage of me now, in that you two so dis­honourably assaile one onely Knight: yet cannot all this dis­courage me in purchasing the Ladies, whom I will haue from you before I depart, or you shall haue the best blood in my helly: to which words, one of the Knights made him this an­swer.

I cannot tell how things may fall out, but before you haue these Ladyes, you shall buy them at our hands so déerely, as while you liue you shall know the price. And so they alighted from their horses, running very furiously on the knight of the Sauage man, who entertained them with such braue and ingenious sleights of fight, as in short time one of the Knights (being not able to hold out any longer) was constrained to fall at the Princesse féete: which when the other knight perceiued, [Page] and saw his life was brought into such extremitie, put foorth himself nobly to defend the strokes wherwith the knight of the Sauage man charged him, who doing his deuoire to bring him vnder his obeysance, the knight (which began the ioust, and had sitten all this while in great anger) séeing his fellowes Mai­stred, by the prowesse of the hardy Knight of the Sauage man, and the great danger wherein he was that endured the Com­bate, came with his sword drawne to assist him.

The Prince séeing that, and how he which was ready to yéeld, tooke heart a fresh by his fellowes company, redoubled his strokes vpon them, and sayd. I would gladly that more succor would come & helpe this knight, to the end that the victo­ry which I shall obtaine, might yéeld me the larger estimation of renowne: and that I might likewise make knowne to these Ladyes, how their beantie ought to be reserued for those Knights who are more vertuous, and can better defend them. In briefe, such was the prewesse of the Prince towards them, as one of the Knights, (being very sore wounned) fell downe to the earth, the sight whereof so grieued the other, as he ranne and fell downe before the Ladies, desiring them to shield him from the surie of the Prince, who smiling to see the behauiour of the knight, entred into these speeches.

Sir knight, you haue taken vp your Hostage in a place of good assurance, otherwise, I would giue thee such a recompence as thy malicious and difloyall stomacke deserueth: then com­ming to the Ladies, he began in this order. Faire Ladies, I desire that you would mount your selues vpon your Pal­frays, for I would willingly be out of this place, lest the remembrance of the ill hap of these Knights cause you to be forgetfull of the honest promise, which you made me before I began the Ioust.

In sooth worthy Sir (answered one of the Damosels) it is very hard to put out our memory, their slender and vnhappy fortune, that could not withstand the force of one Knight, but because you haue deserued so well, we submit our selues most willingly to your worthy selfe to dispose of vs as it shall seeme best in your iudgement, humbly desiring, that vertue be not [Page] blemished by any inordinate meane, which oftentimes happe­neth to a Ladies great dishonour, being too late to recouer it a­gaine, when such an especiall iewell is lost.

Ladies (answered the knight of the Sauage man) I am not accustomed to vse discourtesie to any your sexe, especially, not to them of whom I make account, but such is my misfortune as when I haue well deserued, my due recompence is farre enough from me. Then taking one of the horses of the van­quished Knights, he rid away with the Ladies, leauing the knights in the Tents, to remember the great losse they had su­stained: being thus depriued of their gratious ladies, who with their Esquires rid on merrily, reioycing that they werein the Custody of the noble and aduenterous knight of the Sauage-man.

CHAP. XVI.
Of the aduentures, which chanced to the Knight of the Sa­uage man, conducting these Ladies to the King of Spaines Court: and of that which happened to the Knight of the Tiger, in his voyage to the Profound Isle.

AFter the Knight of the Sauage man, had left the Valley, where he vanquished the foure Knights, he determined to iourney through the Realme of Spaine, being very glad that he was so worthily accompanied with Ladies, and intending to let them vn­derstand, what estimation he made of their singular beauty, which indéed was so pleasing in his eyes, as [Page] willingly he could haue afforded them a point of his courtesie: but for the Damosell Giant Arlencea, the regard he had of her, and the promise wherein he had bound himselfe, beside caused him to qualifie his amorous humour, because his friend Dra­musiande was of such account with him, as made him hee would not leuell at her so pleasant, as perhaps he did at the o­ther.

In their company he shewed himselfe merry and iocond, so that at last hée tooke off his Helmette, and gaue it to his E­squier, when, the Damoselles beholding his faire vsage, and how youthfull and comely he was withall, they seuerally fell into so good opinion of him (the dapper boy of the Goddesse Ci­therea, hauing somewhat touched them) as they repented the wordes they spake, when they first humbled themselues vnto him.

The Prince behaued himselfe to all of them very gratiously, because he would not haue malice to growe on either side, and to the Damosels he brought forth of the Valley, he procéeded in earnest conference, to wit, of whence they were, and wherefore they remained in the company of those Knights whom he had so nobly vanquished: then on of the Damosels, with a very mo­dest countenance returned the Prince this answere.

Most worthy sir, to witnesse the regard we haue of you, and the dutifull affection wherewith we honour you, I will presume (on the behalfe of all the rest) to satisfie your present demaund. You shall therefore vnderstand, that the first of these Damosels is named Armelia, the second Iulianda, the third Sabelia, and my selfe am called Artisia, we being all of one Citie, not farre from the Valley called Arseda, wherein those foure Knights (whereof two were Brethren, and so were the other twaine, yet being so allied together, as they were all Couzins one to an­other) made their abode, being all desirons to doe vs seruice, that they might thereby in time marry vs.

And because wee should not misse so great an honour as mariage is, by the licence of our Mother, we came oftentimes to recreate our selues by this Fountaine, which you percei­ued neere the Tents where you found vs, and there would [Page] the Knightes vsually take delight, to féede our eyes with such pleasant iestes déedes, as they could daily attempt in the Forrest.

Moreouer, that we might the better perswaded of their loue, they would offer the Ioust to any Knight that passed through the valley, summoning them thereto by the Dwarffe which sounded the Trumpet, assuring you, that they were alwaies the Conquerours, vntil this time, which fortune made vnhappy to them, by your noble and valliant prowesse.

Ladyes (answered the Knight of the Sauage man) it were great shame for me to loose them, whom Fortune (by my happy victory) hath deliuered into my hands, wherefore, I promise not to forsake you, vntill some other knight bring me into such extremitie, as I shall be destitue of power sufficient to defend you: but I beleeue he will very bardly vanquish him, who sub­mitteth himselfe so earnestly to your direction. And thus much will I doe for you beside, I will conduct you to the King of Spaines Court, and bring you likewise to sée the Castle of the Giant Almaroll: afterward, if you shall finde it so conuenient for you, to leaue my company, I am content to let you depart at your owne pleasure.

All the Damoselles (vpon this motion) desired him ear­nestly, that he would bring them into those places which he had promised, for that it is the nature of women, to desire to sée no­uelties, and Arlencea, who was inflamed with the selfesame desire, was as forward in moouing the request as any of them, yet she feared least the company of these other Damoselles, would alter the Princes former determination to her, but shée néeded not to cast any such doubt, for the Princes will was as resolute as she could wish it.

Thus they iourneyed on till night came vpon them, when, they went to a Castle néere at hand, where they were all ve­ry friendly entertained, and the Prince caused good atten­dance to bée vsed to the Ladyes: so heare we will leaue him and them togither, and will (as our History willes vs) procéed to tell you, how the knight of the Tiger, the fiftéene day after he was imbarqued, came within the sight of the Profound Isle, [Page] which the Pilot knew very well, and so gaue the Prince Pal­merin to vnderstand, whom he set a shoare in the most conue­nient place he could find, committing him to God and good for­tune.

The knight of the Tiger rode about to vifite the Profound Isle, which seemed to him very plesant and fertile: but the night suddenly hindering him, he was constrained to alight at the foote of a mountaine, where he suffered his horse to refresh him­selfe, and began to mourne, for lacke of the company of his ap­prooued friend Siluian, whose presence was agréeable to him, as well for the remembrance that he was nourished with him, as also for the fwéete and louing counsell he would giue him, when he was in extreme grief and heauinesse, because he knew best how comfort him.

Thus for want of his company, he was constrained to passe that night among the gréene leaues, vsing his Helmet as a pillow vnder his head, and there he tost and tumbled very vn­quietly all night, vntill the cleare morning had chased away the vncomfortable darkenesse: then he arose, and mounting on horse-backe, rode on very heauy and pensiue, yet somewhat comforted by the pleasantnesse of the Isle, which he iudged more worthy to be peopled, then to ly wast and desolate. A­bout the euening tide, he came where was a little Island, which was compassed about with very strong wals: into this Island he entred, and tooke vp his lodging in the house of an an­cient Knight, who was accustomed to giue entertainment to such Knights, as bestowed their time in séeking aduentures-and because he saw the Knight of the Tiger, without an Es­quire attending on him, he came and tooke his horse himselfe, and afterward he helped to vnarme him, vsing him with so great humanity as was possible.

The knight of the Tiger was glad of this friendly entertain­ment, and desired to be informed by his Host, of the customes and manners of that Countrey: so, when he was risen from Supper, and had reposed himselfe a little, he requested his host to tell him, to whom ihat Island belonged, and what were the maners and customes thereof, that he might report it in other [Page] places where he came: to which demand, the ancient Knight his Host made this answer.

My Lord, you came now in good time to be resolued of that, which I perceiue you are ignorant in, for if it had béene your fortune to come hither a little sooner (being in your swéetest times of yeares) your life would haue béene in very great dan­ger, For you shall vnderstaud, that it is not long time since a Giant named Brauorant the Cruell, was the Lord and posses­sor of this Island, who delighted to set spies at all his Ports, to informe him when any Knights or Damosels did arriue in this Island, and when any such happened to come, he would vse them extreame cruelly, the Knights he would depriue of their liues, and the Damosels he would villanously force, and afterward send them away starke naked, dispoyled of all their rich and costly cloathing.

And for this purpose he kept a great company of vassayles, who did nothing else but imploy themselues in following his wicked humor, and when as any Merchants (by fortune) came to cast Anker into this Isle, his vassailes would compell them, to ransome themselues with great extremitie, before they would suffer them to depart hence: but if they chanced to find fault with his tyranny, and refused to pay their ransome, which they knew to be laide on them without all right or rea­son, then would he murther them, or put them to some villai­nous death or other. But the heauenly powers seeing the great oppression and crueltie, which this bloody minded hel-hound continually vsed, and chiefly towards them that neuer offended him, in their diuine prouidence, they thought good to cut off such a tyrant, and so it fortuned this Giant died, whose soule I thinke was carried to the place, where his vnnaturall déeds de­serued to haue recompence, for that he could imploy his life no better. He thus dying, left behind him foure sons which he had in issue, who were in all things to be compared to the Giant their father, the two eldest of his sons were named, Calfurni­en & Combaldam, who being not content to liue on so smal te­uenues as this Island yéelded, went to inhabit another coun­try: but albeit they were thus departed hence, the supreme au­thoritie [Page] would not long suffer them, to liue in their vnsuppor­table crueltie and tyranny, but made a dispatch of their cursed liues, and that by the hand of one onely knight, who was called (as report hath here blazed) the Knight of the Sauage man, so named, for that he beareth figured in his shield a Sauage man. It may be, you haue better knowledge of this Knight, then I haue, for that such a one as you séeme to be, cannot chuse but be acquainted with those noble mindes, as imploy themselues in séeking hautie aduentures, whereby their fame is thundered through the whole world. As for the two other Brethren, they were nourished in this Island vnder their mothers wing, a­gainst whose will (after they iudged themselues able to endure armor) they determined to depart hence, to reuenge the death of their brethren, Calfurnien and Camboldam. The earnest desire they had to be gone, would not suffer them to tary longer here, but taking shipping, away they went, and after they had spent a great time in the bloody and horrible life their predeces­sours spent before them, and in séeking the aforenamed knight of the Sauage man, it so fell out, that the good and hardy knight himselfe, chanced to come where they were, with them he en­tred the Combate, and behaued himselfe so worthily against them, as he likewise ended the liues of the other two Giants, whose death deliuered the inhabitants of the countrey (where they dwelled) out of a great deale of feare and trouble, so that it is to be iudged, that the Knight was ordained to be the onely meane, to defend the miserable afflicted people, out of the life of flauish seruitude, wherein they had remained long time by their cruel Giants. The mother of these merciles hell-hounds before named, who is called Collambra, could not long endure the sor­row she suffered for the death of her children, wherfore she prac­tised, & compassed all deuises she could, wherby to get the knight of the Sauage man into her custody, & that she might spéede the better in her close intent, she ioyned with a Magitian a friend of hers, one whom he loued well, named Alfernao, who is gone to the Emperors court of Constantinople, hauing ten daies al­lowed him to accōplish his intent, & to worke so craftily (as wel he can (y the knight of the Sauage man must be brought hither.

[Page] And because no occasion shal want that may helpe any way, a Damosell Giant named Arlencea, who is the Daughter to this Collambra, accompanied with a certaine nūber of knights and Damosels, is ioyned in company with this Enchauntor, vpon whose promises such assurance is made here, as the Knight of the Sauage man shall bée brought hither. In this great hope which the cruell Collambra hath, to reuenge her deuillish will on this good knight, she is gone to a Citie foure leagues distance hence, being accompanied with a great ma­ny of her friends, as also with one of her brethren, who (though he be young) yet is he maruailous bloody and cruell, and repu­ted for an especiall Knight at Armes, who is also a Giant, and named Esponuautable, who hath conuerted his countrey into as great cruelty, as when it was gouerned by the Giant Bra­uorant the Cruell: and to speake vprightly, Brauorant was not altogether so terrible, as hee is whom I lately named to you, wherefore I hartily pray, that the good Knight of the Sauage man fall not into the hands of this Giant, neither that the trea­son may preuaile which is laide for him: the ancient Knight knitting vp his tale with a sigh, the Knight of the Tiger thus began.

My good friend, it is hard for him to escape the daunger, whom fortune hath determined to fall into it, and séeing it is so, I could wish that she would suffer the Brother to Colam­bra, to séeke reuenge on me for the death of his Nephews: per­happes he might fall into his handes, who hath a good will to punish his wicked life, and make him knowe the desert of cru­eltie, as well as his kindred hath tasted it before him. And for the Knight of the Sauage man, hée is one that I knowe very well, and I hope he wil escape the hands of his enemies, as one that is reserued to bring to an end many worthy and hauty ad­uentures: wherefore, in respect that hee is my especiall good friend, I desire to know the certaintie of that you haue rehear­sed, for if he spéede ill, I cannot take it quietly, and therefore be­cause I wil satisfy my mind, I am determined to morrow mor­ning to goe seeke this Giant, not doubting, but if Fortune fa­uour me, to repay his wicked and euill deserts, with such re­compence [Page] as is méete for such an offender, I sée well Syr (an­swered the ancient Knight) that you are ignorant of the Gi­ants force, in presuming so to combate with him: alas Sir, hée will not make any account of the enterprise, if ten such as you came and waged the fight with him: therefore I cannot chuse but mislike your iudgement, in that any one will repute your enterprise, rather for want of discretion, then vpon any good or sound aduise.

The Knight of the Tiger tooke in good part, the councell which his host laboured to haue him follow, but yet he did not intend to be ruled by him: so, after he and his host had talked an indifferent space, he withdrew himselfe into his Chamber, where he tooke his rest better then he had done the night be­fore, and he reioyced greatly, that his brother Florian was not as yet arriued there, as also that himselfe was there ready to helpe him, if so be hée were brought to this cruell Col­lambra.

In the morning, after he had taken leaue of his courteous Hoste, hée departed to follow what hée had intended, and com­ming into a Forrest, where through he should trauaile to the Citie, where Collambra made her aboade, he heard the roa­ring noyse which the Sea made, whereto he would néedes goe to sée if he could espy any vessell, wherein the knight of the Sa­uage man his brother might be imbarqued: but as he rode to­wards the Sea coast, hée heard a great bruit or noyse some­what néere him, and riding forward to sée what it might bée, he espyed a Shippe lying at Anker, and hard by it was tenne Knights (belonging to Collambra the Mother of Arlencea) maintaining a firce Combate against thrée other Knightes, which he (so soone as he had séene them (knew them to be Platir, Berolde: & the Sage Aliard of the Obscure Valley, who had put their liues in hazard, onely to giue succour to the Knight of the Sauage man.

This sight mooued him somewhat to reioyce, till suddenly he was astonished againe, beholding not past twentie paces from these Knights that fought the Combate, a Giant of a maruellous stature, and Armed in rich and costly Armour, [Page] who cried to kill and murder those thrée Knights, that presu­med to make such resistaunce, and so hacked and hewed their enemies, as now one tumbled on this side, then another on that side, and the most of them being very dangerously wounded.

The Giant séeing this, beganne to waxe meruailous worth with himselfe, when, mounting on horsebacke, he came to giue ayde to his Knights, which the Knight of the Tiger perceiuing, and fearing least his arriuall would be hurtful to his three deare friends, he poasted till he came before them, when, he saluted the Giant with these words.

Art thou not ashamed Espouuantable, to offer thy selfe a­gainst them whom thou séest sore wounded, and haue scantly power to defend themselues? let them alone and addresse thy selfe to me, who as my mortall enemy) came now to séeke thée, for that I would deliuer that vnfortunate Isle, out of thy cruell and bloody tiranny. The Giant stayed a while to behold him, who had summoned him to the Combat in such braue manner, and perceiuing that he bare a golden Tiger in his Shield, hée knewe presently that this was the Knight, whom the world did hold in so great estimation, for he thought no other durst be so bold as to speake so proudly: neuerthelesse, regarding not the presence of the Knight of the Tiger, but in séeing his Knights so vanquished, he fell into these spéeches.

I sée well that the valour of these strange knights, is far diffe­rent to them of this countrey, which maketh me the more desi­rous to hazard my Fortune, for that my happy conquest will yéelde me the more contentment, then comming to the Knight of the Tiger, he began againe thus.

I desire you Syr Knight to doe me so much fauour, as to tell mée, if any of you belong to the Emperours Court of Con­stantinople, or if you be the Sonnes, or of the linage, of the noble Prince Don Edward, you might greatly content mée, if you would resolue mée héerein, for I am perswaded, that you could not thus long maintain y fight against my knights, without you be some of them which I haue named.

I am content (answered the Knight of the Tiger) to satisfie [Page] thée in that thou desirest, wherefore I giue thée to vnderstand that these Knights were brought vp in the Court of the Em­perour of Constantinople, in the company of my selfe, who am the Sonne of the Prince Don Edward, and brother to the re­nowned knight of the Sauage man, on whose behalfe, I ear­nestly desire to requite the treason, which thou and other of thy kindred haue practised, to bring him vnder your subiection in this Island.

Art thou Palmerin (said the Giant) the eldest sonne to the Prince Don Edward, who vanquished Dramusiand and Cam­boldam, and didst win the Islle which no man else could, thru­sting all them forth which kept the same?

For what cause desirest thou to know (answered the knight of the Tiger?) Marry for that I greatly desire said Espouuan­table to enter the Combat with thée in the presence of my sister Collambra who would receiue vnspeakeable contentment, in séeing thée seuerely tormented, for the dishonour thou hast done to her kindred: to which words the Prince replyet thus.

I am euen the selfe-same man whom thou hast so great de­sire to knew, and I am glad to see thée so willing to fight the Combate, although it be in the place which thou thy selfe hast appointed, because I will make knowne publikely to all, how the heauenly powers haue sent me to chastise thy wicked life, as also the crueltie of thy Sister Collambra. Well then (said the Giant) to the end thou maist the better folow thy en­terprise, faile not to prepare thy selfe against the morning, and this night will I cause the Field to be prouided, wherein we entend to fight the Combate: and if those thy companions would be likewise set to worke, I haue thrée Couzins, which shall maintaine the Combat against them, and I will furnish them with Armour out of the Armoury of my brother Bravo­rant, because I see their Armour is greatly out of order, hauing fought so long against my knights: vppon which words, Be­rolde tooke occasion to speake th [...]s.

Thou shalt do vs great pleasure, to lend vs Armour that haue neede of it, and so we will not refuse the Combate: as well to accompany and do seruice to the Prince Palmerin, [Page] as to destroy and abolish the memorie of them, who haue kept the people here in such tirannous seruitude. I sée then (quoth the knight of the Tiger) that the combate betwéene the Giant and me, must be ended first.

Noble Palmerin (said the Sage Aliart) we desire you to suf­fer vs the Combate first, for it may so fall out, as you hauing obtained the victory, against the Giant, feare will make his Couzins to forsake the field the day following: wherefore, to shunne the misfortune that may happen to vs, we desire you to cause the Giant to agrée to this request, which if you do, you shall endue your selfe with perpetuall renowme, and doe vs a great pleasure, who are your humble seruants at commande­ment.

Séeing it is your earnest desire (answered the Knight of the Tiger) I am content that it shall be so, according as your selues thinke best to order it. The Giant went away as ioyfull as might be, for he promised himselfe the victory, and did verily make account to kill the knight of the Tiger, before the knight of the Sauage man arriued there, and in this ioy he came to his sister, who sate wéeping and wringing her hands, because her knights were so vanquished, as also for the long tarry­ance of her daughter Arlencea, fearing least some mischance should hinder them, because they stayed so long: the conside­ration hereof, made her heart ouerwhelmed in extreame pas­sions, yet was she somewhat contented by her brothers pre­sence, who prouided such necessaries for himselfe, as he should vse in the Combate in the day following against Palmerin of England.

The Giant being thus gone about his businesse, the Prince Palmerin demanded of his friend, for what cause the Giants Knights did enter fight with them? whereto the Sage Ali­art thus replied. My Lord, this Giant causeth a number of Spies for to lucke about this Countrey, who seeing but any strangers to come on the land here, or that any Ship do but once lie here at Anker, they set vppon them with maine force presently: in like manner chanced this misfortune to vs, who comming on land in this place, were no sooner offering to [Page] mount on horseback, but we were assaulted with these knights from the Giant, who came himselfe to encourage and animate them against vs, we being ready to fall into extreame danger, had not you so happily arriued, being sent (doubtlesse) to suc­cour vs, that our enterprise might not come to an vnfortunate end, which could not otherwise be, in that the knight of the Sa­uage man is not yet brought hither.

Here making a pawse, they went to séeke somewhat to sup withal, and to prouide something to lay to a litle wound, which Berolde had receiued on his arme, for which cause Palmerin de­sired him, that he would not aduenture the Combat the day fol­lowing, but Berolde would by no meanes be perswaded.

The Sage Aliarts Esquier, tooke the Prince Palmerins horse, he staying there all that day in his friends company, all of them watching very diligently for the sight of any Shippe, wherein the Prince Florian should be brought captiue into his enemies hands: but when the darke night would not suffer them to looke any longer, they entred all into the Shippe which had brought them thither, for that they iudged themselues in more assurance there, then to tarrie on the land all the darke night, accounting them rather gouerned by arrogancy and folly, then any wise­dome or discretion, that would trust them, who made no ac­count of their faith, especially, being their professed and sworne enemies.

CHAP. XVII.
Of the Combate betweene the Giant Espouuantable, and the noble knight of the Tiger: and of the battell betweene Berolde, Platir, and Sage Aliart, and the three Couzins of the Giant.

CLeare Phebus had no sooner shewed his golden face on the earth the next morning, but these foure Knights departed from the ship, thrée of them being armed but badly, by reason their armor had béene mangled very cruelly the day before: but yet though they were so slenderly prouided, they would not forsake the Combate against the Giants Cou­zins: so leauing the Shippe in the custodie of the Marriners, they rid on, accompanied with their Esquiers, who bare their Lances and their Shields, vntill they came to the place where the Giant remained. Being come thither, they beheld before the Castle, the place appointed for the combat, which was pa­led round about very handsomly, & scaffolds made of very great height, whereon was assembled an innumerable company of people, who came onely to sée the Combat, for that they iudged it would be the most famous that euer was fought in y Coun­trey, wherein they heartily desired that the giant might be de­priued of life, for that he vsed the people with such extreame ri­gor, and yet they durst not speake against him, no not the chiefe nobles and gentlemen of the Country, but they stood in awe of him for his cruell dealing, being glad to honor him to his face, though they scorned and disdained him behind his backe. And thus he liued Lordly ouer euery one, vsing all alike as slauish­ly as might be, so that none durst displease or offend his rascall vassails, least they should raise such a scandall among them, as [Page] the tyrants punishment would be too hard for them to suffer, so that many times they practised the death of the Giant, that they might be discharged of his cruell oppressions: but let vs come againe to the former matter.

The knights entred into this place, which they knew was ordained for the combate, and there they stood attending for the Giant, who in short time after came to one of the windowes of the castle, accompanied with his sister Collambra, he being ar­med as he was the day before. At last the Giant lifted vp the Beuer of his Helmet, to the end the Christian knights might be dismaied, beholding his sterne and vigorous countenance, and I assure you, albeit he was yong, yet was he so mighty and tall of stature, hauing such an vgly and fearefull face, as was sufficient to terrifie the hearts of them, who were not accusto­med to sée such a hideous proportion. For his face was alwayes bitterly frowning, the skin whereof swart and wrinkled, his lips bigge and boysterous, and gaping so farre asunder, as his téeth were séene very monstrously, so that the Anatomie agréed well with his name, he being called the Fearefull Giant. The Giant stood leaning on a Cushion of blacke Veluet in the win­dow, and shewed to his sister the Knight of the Tiger, desiring her to comfort her selfe, for that he intended to reuenge y death of her sonnes on him, because he that had slaine them was not as yet come: this he spake because he would not let her know what talke had passed on the day before, betwéene him and the knight of the Tiger, lest she should chance to discorage her selfe, or doubt of the sufficiency of his strength, which both he and she estéemed equall to deale with ten good and hardy Knights. In the meane while the Giant staied in the window, there came an Esquire of his, with men with him laden with armor, into the place where the Combate should be fought, and they com­ming before the prince and his company, after that the Esquire had saluted them, he entred into these spéeches.

Gentlemen, my Lord the giant willed me to let you vnder­stand, that he is not accustomed to make a conquest of those knights, who shal afterward excuse thēselues, that their misfor­tune was for want of armor: and because he will auoid such an [Page] impeachment, he hath sent you here choice of armour, willing you to take them, which you shall thinke most conuenient for you. And he willed me to bring him word, whether you will rather yéeld to the mercy of his Sister Collambra, or abide the triall of himselfe and his Couzins: the Prince Platir answered the Esquire thus.

Trust me (my friend) I cannot thinke it méete to receiue thy Maisters armor, which we thanke him for, that he would so courteously send vs, because I carry this mind with me, that it is better for vs to loose our liues without his aid, them hauing his armour to fall into his hands vanquished, for our armour his not so much spoyled, but we may very well endure the triall of this Combate: wherefore, we will trie our Fortune in this armor we haue, considering, skill must be vsed as well as de­fence, which if we imploy as we ought, there is no doubt but we shall haue the victory.

I am content to follow the aduise of Platir (said Berolde.) And since you find it so conuenient (quoth the Sage Aliart) me thinkt it were good the messenger returned backe to his Mai­ster, and let him vnderstand, that he may come when please him into the field. I reioyce greatly (saide the Esquire) in the counsell of this young knight, that you will not take this Ar­mor, which my Lord the Giant sendeth you: therefore let him that hath the aduantagr boast of his winning in the end.

Thus the Esquire departed into the Castle of Collam­bra againe, giuing the Giant to vnderstand, what the Knights had said, whereat he fumed and fretted greaely, to sée what disdaine these Christian knights made of him: where­vpon, he tooke his leaue of his Sister in this maner. Madame, I pray you abide at this window all the while the Combate endureth, for I shall be greatly iniuried if I want your pre­sence.

So departing, he went vnto his Couzins, who were all in blacke armor, conformable to their griefe and sorrow, and bea­ring for their deuices in their shéelds, the portraitures of Bro­calon and Baleato, their Couzins, figured in a field of Sable they promising neuer to change their deuises, vntill they had [Page] reuenged the death of the Giants the sons of Collambra, who were déerely beloued of their vnckle the Giant Espouuanta­ble. With them he tooke his way to the place appointed for the combate, the people reioycing when they saw him comming with his Couzins, who were in stature able to deale with sixe such as the thrée knights were: which made the Giant to ride very merily, perswading himselfe, that the knight of the Ti­ger and his companions, should loose their liues in the field that day: then comming somwhat néere them, he began to vse these words. In sooth my friends, it were better for you to yéeld your selues, then to abide the terrour of my combate. Not so sir (an­swered the Knight of the Tiger) but albeit thy arcogant pride should séeme to fray vs, in these peoples iudgements, we are content to abide the vttermost: not doubting (God aiding vs) but to bring downe thy haughty stomacke, and these likewise that beare thée company.

Vpon these words the Giant ran against the knight of the Tiger and his Cozins against the other knights, that the tram­pling of the horses made the earth to groane, and they were not so quicke and spéedy in their course, but the knight of the Ti­ger and his companions were as nimble as they, méeting so brauely in the middest of the Carrire, where the Giant broke his lance on the Prince Palmerins shéeld with so great force, as he was constrained to catch hold on the mane of his horse, otherwise he had fallen beside him: neuerthelesse the Giant was cast out of his Saddle with great violence against the ground, whereat he was maruailously offended, but the knight of the Tiger reioyced that he had broken his lance so well.

The other six knights were all likewise dismounted, except the Prince Flatir, who kept his Saddle still: yet was the charge so rough vpon him, as he had almost borne his fellowes company, but that he recouered himselfe gallantly, hauing lost both his stirreps. The knight of the Tiger séeing the Giant comming towards him, cast himselfe beside his horse quickly, because he feared the Giant would haue kiled his horse: then being on his féete, he spake to the Giant thus.

Content thy selfe a while thou counterfeit Monster, and let [Page] thy Cozins procéede in that they haue enterprised, for they that deale with him are such, as they shall find sufficient to abate their lofty minds: and after they haue tried their fortune (be­cause we will not hinder them, neither do they the like to vs) thou and I will quickly decide our controuersie, when, do not doubt but thou shalt perceiue, the little regard I haue of thée, and the vttermost thou canst doe.

I sée well (answered the Giant) that because thou hadst so good fortune to dismount me, it makes thee so bold to speake thus brauely: but I receiue greater contentment thē thou canst deuise, to see thee here in this place, where at mine owne plea­sure I shall giue thee punishment, and with my sword repay the shame of my fall. Then drew he his sword forth of the scab­bard, saying to the Prince, that he had caused that weapon to be made, onely to take reuenge therewithall, for the death of his Couzins Brocalon, and Baleato: with these words he ran fiercely on the Knight of the Tiger, and gaue him such cruell and forcible stroakes, as had he not defended them worthily, his life would haue bene in great danger.

Verie rigorous was the blowes the Giant gaue the prince, so that most part of his shield was cut in peeces, and he had very little left to award his enemy, and a great while it was before he could wound the Giant, yet at length he gained such opportunitie, as he wounded him grieuously in three or foure places: which made the Giant to faint and waxe somewhat wearie, both with the great losse of his blood, and also with his extreame sweating and chafing, to see himselfe so hardly mat­ched by one knight, but all his fretting the prince regarded not, he followed his intent so worthily, and redoubled stroake after stroake so roughly vpon him, as the Giant was constrained to retire, to take breathing awhile.

The knight of the Tiger was not sorry therat, for that he as gladly desired rest of the giant, though not by any such ex­treame occasion, considering also, he desired to see how his three friends continued the fight, with the giants three Cou­zins, who in sooth were brought to such a narrow point, as they had not the power to defend their enemies, for they both [Page] had and did charge them so worthily, as the Prince did much de­light himselfe in beholding them, they being so couragious, nim­ble and quicke, as they were at the beginning of the Combate. But the Prince Platir dealt so gallantly with him that was his enemy, as he had the general praise, and was iudged worthy the honour of that day, aboue his other two companions.

The Giant beholding his Couzins in such danger, and him­selfe to haue lost the most part of his blood, likewise that he had such a strong and puissant enemy: his heart began to faint, but because he would not haue them know, in what great feare and debilitie he was, he came againe as lustily (as he could) to the Combate.

As for the Knight of the Tiger, he was ready and willing to entertaine him, which was more rough and sharpely giuen to the Giant, then the first encounter was: and in the meane time they tried thus hardly together, the Knight which fought against Platir was so faint and féeble, as hee fell downe to the ground before him, when Platir taking his Helmet from him, strooke off his head, and shewed it to Collambra, as she sate in the window.

When she sawe that Fortune was thus fully bent against her, she presentle shut the window, and wéeping bitterly for this pittious sight, shee pulled and rent her haire very cruelly, which the Giant beholding, that she dispaired of his victorie, and would not vouchsafe him any longer her countenance, he determined to sell his life as déerely as he could, to him that la­boured to take it from him, and then beganne to assaile the Prince very furiously: but he perceiuing the Giants force could not endure long, so hackte and hewed his Armour in pre­ces, as at last hée cutte out great collops of his flesh, and dyed all the grasse with the blood of the Giant Espouuan­table.

And the Knight of the Tiger looking aside, espied the Cou­zins of the Giants all subdued, and their heads presented (as the first was) by the other two Knightes, euery one then expecting the ende of the Combate, betwéene him and the Giant: and truely hée maruelled much that the Giant helde [Page] out so long, wherefore he layde such cruell stroakes vpon him, as at the length he (being not able to sustaine himselfe) fell downe flat to the ground vpon his backe, committing his soule into the hands of them, who strengthened him in his wicked and abhominable déedes.

Then the Knight of the Tiger tooke off his Helmet, to sée whether he were aliue or dead, but when he saw no life was left in him, he tooke his sword by the point, and beate him with the hils so about his head, as he made his eyes and his téeth to fall out, and then he cut off his legs by the knées, which being done, he thanked God of his happy victory, & the people for ioy gaue such a generall shoute, as the earth did séeme to tremble there withall, they were so glad of their deliuery from the monstrous cruelty, wherin these Giants had so long time kept them.

And in this great ioy, they concluded altogether to goe and beset the Castle where Collambra was, that none of that bloo­dy linnage might be left aliue: for except she were likewise di­spatched, the people feared their former seruitude. In the meane while Collambras knightes guarded the peoples entrance in­to the Castle, one of her Damosels came and humbled herselfe at the Prince Palmerins feete, with these spéeches.

I desire you Sir Knight, that you would take pittie on my Lady Collambra, and on vs that are her Damosels attedant on her, for we haue no other defence for our selues, then the thrée Knights, who labour to kéepe the people foorth of the Castle, in that they would put my Lady to death, whom I pray you vouchsafe to defend from their exueltie: for more willingly would she receiue chastisement at your hands for her offences, then to fall into the peoples power, who are voide of reason in their reuenge.

The knight of the Tiger (fearing hée should not come time enough to giue her succour) spake to his thrée friends in this manner. I desire you my brethren and friendes, to goe and assist Collambra, because the people séeke to put her to death. These thrée knights willing to satisfie the Princes request, be­gan to thrust through the preasse, and preuailed so much by [Page] their strength, that at last they attained the Castle, gate, which was defended by Collambraes Knights, one of them being slaine, and the other two ready to yeeld themselues, at what time the Knight of the Tiger and his companions, were come to the place where this great hurly burly was: which he be­ing desirous to pacifie, thrust into the Castle Collambraes knights, and turning his face to the people, desired them to de­part to their houses, and to assure themselues, that he would not faile to set them in such a sure state of libertie, as they should not be molested with such cruell tiranny, as they had bin too long a time.

The people conceiued such contentment by the words of the Prince Palmerin, as they presently departed thence, crying all in this manner: that the Island ought to be giuen to the knight of the Tiger, for that it was his owne by right, and they did heartily desire that he would accept it, they being content to humble themselues as his vassailes and subiects, so that he would not be perswaded by the flattering words of Collambra whose mallice was not inferiour to the cruell Giants.

Palmerin made them promise to deale in such sort, as they should be all contented to their owne willes: so, giuing them a courteous farewell, he went into the great Hall to rest him­selfe a while, and afterward he came to Collambra, who sate a­mong her Damosels, her haire all dispersed about her shoul­ders, hanging her head downe to the ground, and making such pittifull lamentation, as her Damosels could not chuse but bedeaw their chéekes with teares, beholding the extreame heauinesse of their Lady and Mistresse, who at this instant re­membred the death of her husband, the losse of her Sonnes, and destruction of her house, and the death of her Brother, who came onely for her sake thither, as well to defend her, as also to sée the death of the Knight of the Sauage man, but now, being past all hope to haue him, and fearing lest by him, she had like­wise lost her daughter Arlencea, of whom she made most high and especiall account: all those occassions considered together, compelled her to immoderate mourning.

[Page] The knight of the Tiger hearing the great complaints of Collambra, was diuers times to offering comfort her, but he iudging his words would rather more vexe her, then pacifie her, let her alone to comfort her selfe to well as she could: but the prince Platir séeing how Collambra howled and made such a pittifull and heauy noyse, beganne thus to speake vn to the knight of the Tiger.

I thinke it good, and so do my two friends and companions that this Castle remaine vnto vs as our owne for euer, and to chase hence this cruell woman, or cause her to be brought in­to some such place, where her mallice may haue no power to en­danger vs, or put any other good mind in feare. Friend Platir (answered Palmerin) I will agrée to whatsoeuer you thinke expedient, but I pray you do not prouoke me to do Collam­bra any outrage, nor yet to brinn her into my company, for I cannot endure to behold one so full of griefe as she is.

These thrée knights perceiuing that the sight of this cruell Giantnesse, did much offend the Prince Palmerin, they conclu­ded to haue her brought where their ship lay at Anchor, to car­ry her with them to Constantinople, because the Emperour should dispose of her as he thought méete: and they stayed not long to put their intent in execution, but caused her to be con­ueied in a Chariot, to the Port where their ship rode, leauing her there in the company of the Sage Aliart, vntill they had de­termined further for the state of the Island.

CHAP. XVIII.
Of that which happened to the noble Prince Palmerin, of England, before he departed from the Profound Isle.

IT so fell out out (as the Historie reporteth) that Collambra) ouercome with excéeding griefe and anguish of minde) was brought into such a weake and féeble estate, as she fell on the ground in a trance, being no o­therwise reputed thē for a dead body. Then the Prince Platir, who desired the ruine of her whole progeny, commaunded his Esquire to take her vp, but shée was so heauie and weightie, as they (hauing no other helpe) could scantly lift her, so bringing her downe the staires, conueyed her into a Chariot, with certaine Damoselles that attended on her, and so she was caried away from her Castle to the ship, being followed all the way by a number of men and women on foote, who made such woefull and bitter lamentati­ons, as it mooued them to pitie, who had béene greatly iniured by her crueltie.

When they were come to the ship, they conueyed her there­into, with two damosels of hers, who would by no meanes de­part from her, but determined to beare her company, & take part of the ill fortune that might happen to her, such & so great was the amity they bare vnto Collambra, who séeing her selfe in the ship, and in the custodie of them that were her enemies, being depriued of al hope to come backe againe, she determined to cast her selfe into the sea, iudging that to be the onely way to end her sorrowes, & so to be frée from the practises of her foes. Berolde, Platir, & the Sage Aliart, being in y ship with her (but Palmerin by no meanes would come where she was (endeuoured to cōfort her as much as they could come where she was) endeuoured to comfort her as much as they could, but she made no account of [Page] their perswasions, for she said, without he might sée her daugh­ter Arlencea againe, she should neuer giue euer her sorrowfull wailing, which she continued in the company of those Knights, who knew very wel, that nothing was such a soueraigne reme­dy to desperate folkes, as death it selfe: wherefore they conclu­ded to leaue her in the company of the Sage Aliart, to preuent any crueltie she might offer on her selfe, as for Platir and Berol­de, they went on shoare, and comming aga [...]ne to the Citie, they found the Prince Palmerin among the people, who desired him to accept their faithfull homage, as to their onely Prince and so­ueraigne, in respect of the great and insupportable tryanny, from which they were deliuered by his noble prowesse.

Palmerin receiued their courtesie in very gratious and gen­tle manner, but in no case would he accept the gouernment of the Isle, for that (quoth he) it appertaineth to my brother Flo­rian, of the Forrest, otherwise called the Knight of the Sauage man, hée hauing aduentured his life to destroy those tyran­nous Rulers, which sometime did possesse the same, as for me, and these my friendes, we came hither onely but to finde him.

But if so be my brother Florian refused to be your gouernor, I will not faile to satisfie your iust and reasonable request, whereto reason commaundeth mee to condiscend, and till the time I vnderst and my brothers minde, in his name I will re­ceiue and make account of your homage, and assure your selues, I will sée you haue a gouernour that shall like you all: in the meane time, I pray you makes account of me, and behaue your selues as good and obedient subiects to him, who with great dan­ger of his life, and losse of his blood, hath bought and redéemed your quiet libertie.

The principall Lords of the Island (who were there present before the prince) made answere, that they would in all things fulfill his commaundement, as those that honoured him with vnfained reuerence, in sight whereof, they resigned vp to him all their Castles and Fortresses, the keyes whereof they hum­bly deliuered him.

Palmerin in hauing visited their Castles, and set all things in [Page] due and necessarie order, for the better encouragement of the in­habitants of the Island: hée gaue the Forts and Castles into their hands againe, who had the custodie of them before, com­maunding them to be very carefull and respectiue in the well guarding and ordering them, vntill such time as his brother ar­riued there.

The Prince Palmerin was entertained by the people of this Isle very honourably, and he caused the treasure which belon­ged to Collambra, to bée locked vp within her Castle, that it might bée deliuered to his Brother Florian: but as he was a­bout to appoint a Porter, at the place of most assurance in this Castle, he perceiued Siluian to enter, accompanied with the ancient Knight, who had béene the Hoste to the Prince at his first arriuall in the Isle, for he being enformed of the victo­ry, which Palmerin had atchieued against the Giant Espou­uantable, would néedes come with Siluian to the Cittie, the sight of whom did not a little reioyce the heart of the Prince Palmerin.

The ancient Knight being come into his presence, humbled himselfe at his féete, with these words. My gratious Lord, in that I haue not vsed you with such entertainement as your no­bilitie deserued, I humbly desire, that you would vouchsafe to pardon me. Palmerin arose and tooke him vp, and imbracing him very gratiously, spake thus vnto him.

I haue not forgotten the excéeding friendship, wherewith you vsed me when I was in your house, for the which I account my selfe greatly beholding to you: and for that at this present, my power will not stretch to make you any sufficient amends, I pray you to accept the gouernment of this Island, the Lord thereof I know will be very well contented therewithall, for if Fortune vouchsafe to call me to any dignitie, I will not faile to remember your great kindnesse.

Doe you thinke my Lord (answered Argentao, which was the name of this ancient Knight) that the people here, will admit any other gouernor then your selfe? Yea truely (answe­red Palmerin) for that he which is the Lord hereof, is my bro­ther, to whom this Island doth appertaine by duty. I feare me [Page] my Lord (saide Argentao) that some harme hath happened to him, by them of the stocke and Image of the Giant Brauorant, but since it standeth so with your gracious pleasure, to call mée (vnworthy wretch) to so great credite and honour (which I knowe it is your will I should not refuse,) I estéeme my selfe the most happiest man aliue, desiring you to vnderstand the will of the people, for if they doe not imagine well of me prefer­ment, it were better for me to content my selfe with mine own poore house, where it liked you to accept a lodging, and whereof I pray you to dispose, as your owne alwayes at commaunde­ment, and to thinke of me, who (during my life time) vowe my selfe your humble vassaile and obedient Subiect.

The people hearing the wordes of Argentao, who was a Christian Knight, one of very good life, and alwaies a great e­nemy to the Giants, did very well allow to accept him for their gouernour, promising generatly before the Prince, that they would honour him with dutifull loue and obedience.

The Prince Palmerin sent to call the Sage Aliart, com­maunding Siluian to stay the meane while in the Shippe, who being come thither, and entred into the Ship, he was present­ly taken with exceeding feare, when he beheld the ougly frow­ning countenaunce of Collambra, which he iudged as ill fa­uoured, as the report went of Espouuantable her Brother, whom the people of that countrey thought to be inuincible, be­fore they saw him so nobly conquered by the valiant Palmerin of England.

Siluian hauing declared the pleasure of his Lord, the Sage Aliart presently departed to the Citie, and being come to the Princes his friendes, hee found them determining to send to Constantinople the Esqurer of the Prince Berolde, who was named Albanis, willing him to depart thence with the Ship, and to present the Emperour of Greece with the newes of this happy victory in that Island, also to deliuer to his Maiesty the Giantesse Collambra.

When they had concluded on the Esquiers message, he de­parted from them to the Ship to Collambra, when, the Pilot hoysing his Sayles, and the winde seruing them very gallant­lie, [Page] they rode on at pleasure, and cut the Seas with maruellous expedition. But the Prince Palmerin peceiuing, that his thrée friends had written their mindes to them they best thought on, he was sorry that he had done as much, neuerthelesse, he thought it not fit he should venture so boldly, to commit his secrets to any one else, sauing his friend Siluian.

Then to driue fancies out of his mind, he desired his friends to beare him company in visiting the Isle, whereto they wil­lingly consented, and Argentao caused two of the Giants Foists to be put in a readinesse, wherein he and the principall Lords of the Island bare them company, in riding about the Island.

After they had séene the most part of the Profound Isle, they came to another, which was called the Perillous Isle, being ve­ry well peopled, and fortified with a number of goodly Towers and Castles of no small riches, that the noblest Prince in the world could not wish for a more stately gouernment. Argen­tao, who was very well acquainted with the customes and ma­ners of that Island, gaue them to vnderstand the rare singula­rities thereof, desiring them not to thinke it strange, that they saw the people so scant, and they that were there, so fearefull, for it was the extreame cruelty of the Giant Brauorant, that made them forsake their houses, looking euery houre when they shold be put to the Sword.

These knights receiued great pleasure in beholding these two Islandes, and so they rowed about vntill it was the next day in the morning, when, then came they to the place (as you may reade in the first part of this History) where Palmerin went on shore to end a strange aduenture, there they landed, and mounted on their Horses to get vp on the high Rocke, but the way was so narrow, and the Rocke so steepe, as they were faine to alight againe, and giuing their horses to their Esquires they went vp the Rocke on foote after one another.

But before they were come to the place where Palmerin found the Monument, with these letters engrauen thereon. Take heed thou passe no further: they were so weary, as they were glad to mount on their Horses againe, and so in short [Page] time they attained the top of the rocke, where they rested them­selues, being abashed to see such a huge mountaine. But when Argentao and the thrée knights were come to the Fountaine, they had then a greater cause of astonishment, then any they had séene as yet, for their they saw monstrous huge Beastes, like vnto them which Palmerin flew, when they would not suffer him to drinke of the water: and I assure you, that these Beasts were so cunningly and artificially framed, as one wold haue iudged them to be aliue, they made such a vigorons and fearefull shew, being chained by the neckes with the selfe same chaines as they were, whom Palmerin (by his noble valour dis­comfited. This rare and ingenious figure declared, what great study and practise Vrganda compassed, to leaue such a strange edifice in remembrance of her knowledge.

Palmerin seeing this rare monument to surpasse all that euer he had séene before, suspected that the Sage Aliart had done it by his Art, to cause them wonder at it. Wherefore he desired that he would satisfie him whether it be so or no, the Sage Aliart made this answer.

My Lord, she which inuented the aduenture of this foun­taine, did will, that he which was so happy to atchieue the ho­nour thereof, should be recompeuced according to his worthy deserts: and to leaue to all postericies a perpetual remembrance of him, she ordained that these cruell beasts, which are framed in the naturall shapes of them which you slew, should remaine still in this place, to the end that they which chance to come in­to this Island, may render continual laude and commendation to your worthy prowesse. Yet thinking this not sufficient e­nough to your prayse, she caused to be erected the portraitures of those knights which belonged to the Enchantnesse Eutropa, and whom you worthily brought vnder your obeysance, they being liuely carued in marble, of the same height and proportiō as they were: and here they are figured defending their shields which you may yet sée hanging on their seuerall Pillers, euen in the same manner as they were, when you fought for them before this Island was conquered.

And for the Isle it selfe, it sometime belonged to the Sage [Page] Vrganda, to whom you must thinke your selfe greatly behol­ding, séeing that by her meanes, your noble déedes remaine re­gistred for perpetuall memorie.

Certainely (answered Berolde) I cannot deny, but he must néedes iudge himselfe well fauoured of her, yet ought we to re­gard him the more, who had the power to end such a perillous aduenture: and I may say to you, that some would make them as fearefull as these Beastes made by Arte, because they giue shewe of such rauenous crueltie, as they would of them which were one here aliue.

Doe you not sée (said Platir) the poesie engrauen on this Pil­ler, which doth inuite vs to drinke at this Fountaine: And then the letters which are within, commaundeth vs to defend our selues? trust me, since the danger is awarranted by the Prince Palmerin, I will yet sée further into this aduenture. With these words he approached to the Fountaine, and hauing drunke of the water, commended the swéetenesse thereof aboue all other waters.

Argentao, and they of the Profound Isle, did greatly maruel to sée strange sights: in like manner did Platir, and Be­rolde, albeit they were good and hardy knights, yet did they ad­mire with the other for company, extolling his hauty and noble prowesse, who (by his famous conquest) brought the Island to be inhabited.

After they had a long time discoursed on the singularitie of this Fountaine, they tooke their way to the Castle, where hard by the riuers side, stood foure faire Iasper pillars, whereon han­ged foure shieldes, like vnto them which Palmerin won from the foure Knights, and there stood the images of the Knights in Columbs of Marble, hauing the like Armor and Shields as the liuing knights had, and standing as though they vsed regard to their shéeldes, whereon their seuerall names were written in letters of Gold.

Palmerin was as greatly amazed at ye fight hereof, as he was the same day he approoued the aduenture, & while the kuights tooke pleasure to behold this strange monument, he perceiued to come ouer the Bridge an Esquire, who was sent thither by [Page] Satrafort the gouernor of the Castle: the Esquire had no sooner séen the knight of the Tiger, but he presently returned into the Castle, to giue his Maister to vnderstand, that the Lord of the Island was arriued there: wherevpon, Satrafort come forth to receiue him, and with humilitie conducted him into the Castle, wherein they were no sooner entred, but Platir began after this manner.

Me thinkes the strange fights of this Countrey, is farre con­trary to them in all other parts of the world, in that these mo­tions shew the great danger of the aduentures passed, and the brauery of this castle doth euidently witnesse, that the skull and knowledge of the Sage Vrganda, ought to be estéemed aboue all other. The Prince Platir could not chuse but maruell very much, séeing the sundry rare monuments, which the Sage Vr­ganda had erected in that place, where she made her continu­all abyding, because she would alwayes ayde those whom she made account of for her so speciall friends, as you may reade at large in the booke of the valiant Amadis of Gaule. But to come againe to our former purpose, these Knightes hauing séene the lower parts of the Castle, at last came to the place where Pal­merin of England (in times past) found the Giant Demetail, the fight hereof caused them to passe on further, and after they came to the blacke riuer, wherein the malicious Eutropa cast her selfe, when the Prince Palmerin tooke her by the hand, being ou the plancke, which was so dangerous, the sight of this perillous aduenture, made them forget all the brauery they had séene be­fore. Siluian began to thinke on his masters fortunate successe, in atchieuing such a worthy & famous aduenture, and the con­ceit of the manifold troubles he had passed, was of such force in the gentle Esquiers minde, as he began to shed teares: but the Knight of the Tiger perceiuing how Siluian wept, while his other friends were busied in beholding the occasions there pre­sent, he came and embraced Siluian, vsing these words.

I would haue thée thinke (my good friend Siluian) that the knight, who hath the rare beauty of the princesse Polinarda, im­printed in his heart, could not faile to accomplish these aduen­tures, how dangerous so euer they were at first to him, and I [Page] assure thée, that the vnfained leue I beare to her, made me to trie the hazard of this vncouth place, from whence (in the soue­raigntie of her name) I returned victor: wherefore, I pray thée refraine thy teares, and perswade thy selfe assuredly, that the earnest desire I haue to do seruice to my Lady, encouraged me in all my trauailes.

Then he left Siluian, and came againe to his friends and companions, speaking to them in this order I pray you my friends to forsake this place, which doth nothing else but trou­ble your thoughts with silent vexations of griefe, thinking on things of so small importance: for me thinks Satrafort saith, it is time that we go to supper. At these words the knights depar­ted thence, commending highly the valour of the knight of the Tiger, and Satrafort brought them into a faire great chamber, the windowes thereof being ouer a faire Garden very thicke beset with trées, and a prettie small riuer taking his course tho­row it. In this place the knights were set to supper, being serued with such great pompe and state, as there wanted no­thing that could be deuised, and Satrafort being desirous to witnesse their great welcome into the Perillous Isle, shewed himself surpassing bountifull, and beside, he was so glad of the presence of the noble Palmerin of England, as he spared no tra­uaile to purchase those things that might yéeld him contenta­tion.

All Supper time, they delighted themselues in pleasant dis­courses, vntill the tables being withdrawne, they arose, with courtesie one to another, and then Satrafort brought ech of thē into his chamber, which were hanged with rich cloathes of ta­pistrie, that the Enchantresse Eutropa, and the Giant Dramu­siande had left there, because the house should be decked at all times, that when any of his friends came, they might haue the better entertainment: as for them whom he thought not well on, they durst not be so bold as to presume thither, because as he vsed his friends with courtesie, so did he his enemies with crueltie.

CHAP. XIX.
Here is yet continued what happened to Palmerin of Eng­land in the Perillous Isle.

THese foure knights were no sooner risen on the next morning, but they walked into fields about the Castle, which were very faire and fragrant to behold, in that the Sage Vrganda did take great delight in her life time to be very busie there, during the time the Spring lashed, in planting and set­ting yong and tender grafts, which were done in the manner of walks and Arbours, hauing kept such iust proportion and measure in setting them, as surely they would content any friendly eye. The walkes were paued with large stones, of colour of white and gréene, and the trées about them were so brauely branched, as in the Summer time the Sunne could not offend any with heate, there was such a delicate shaddow, and in the winter, the cold and sharpe winde could not come at them, by reason the trées were so thicke and high. In the Gar­den there stood a goodly Cesterne, to receiue the water that fell when it rained, and from it by pipes and other deuises, the wa­ter was ronueyed into all the necessary roomes in the Castle: this cestern was inclosed round about with Christal, and bound with barres of siluer maruailous beautifully. These knights could not sufficiently content their eyes, with the diuersitie of braue deuises about the Castle, and so long they walked till a messenger came and called them to dinner, when, though they were loath to go so soone in againe, yet (remembring their cour­teous Hoste) they went presently. The rest of the day they spent in their former exercise, vntill the night came stealing [Page] on them, and euery man being in his loding, could not entend to sléepe, they were so busie in praising the deeds of the Sage Vrganda.

When Aurora had saluted the knights with her amiable countenance at their windowes, Satrafort came into their chambers, to giue them the mornings courtesie, and comming to the Prince Palmerin, she began to vse these speeches. As it séemeth to me (worthy Sir) the nouelties of this Island is con­tinually chaunging, and they appeare more strange euerie houre then other, for in the Gareen where you were yester­night, at this instant is standing a goodly Lodging, inuented and builded (me thinks) very ingeniously, and as it cometh to passe, it excéedeth all the occasions you haue yet séene: for as I made an offer to enter into it, I was forcibly kept backe by two monstrous Giants, who will not suffer any to come in at the doore. Wherefore I thinke it good that you trie their cour­tesie, for I am perswaded, that the reward which is due to your Knightly trauailes, bestowed in the conquering of this Isle, vndoubtedly is within that place.

These news did so greatly amaze the Knights, as they star­ted vp presently, and armed themselues, and comming into the Garden, they found in the middest thereof, the stately Lodging which Satrafort had declared to them. The worke­manship whereof, séemed miraculous strange, the walles be­ing of Marble, and so ingeniously built, as it is vnpossible to finde the like.

The couerture of the house was of Azure stone, which with the glimpse of the Sunne did shine so brauely, as it greatly de­lighted the Knights to behold. On the top of all the house, stood a Piller of Siluer of a great bignesse, and there leaned against it a faire Table, compassed with exquisite deuises of Arte: on the highest part thereof was figured the heauens, and the seauen Planets in liuely Images pictured therein, Mercurie being Lord as then, who was attired in the ancient habite, which they of ancient time did report him to weare: in the mid­dest of the table was pictured Hercules, tearing in peeces the théefe Cacus.

[Page] At the foure corners of this house was foure goodly trées, who were iust of the height of the house, and their branches spreading brauely all abroad: and round about the house was glasse windowes of maruailous costlinesse, which gaue light plentifully into all places of the same, the glasse hauing such an­cient Histories figured in gold on it, as the Knights could not looke so much as they liked: which made Platir to speake thus. It should séeme if Vrganda made this her Study, and deligh­ted to decke it so brauely without, no doubt but she would make it farre more sumptuous within, wherefore, I thinke it good that we trie the crueltie of the Giants: and if fortune doe accept vs in her fauour, we shall spéed of the treasure inclosed within this house, and I desire that I may be the first in prouing the aduenture, if so be the Prince Palmerin like well of it, for I would be loth to go against his will in any thing.

Why do you not procéede in your determination? (answered Palmerin) I promise you I cannot mislike of any thing you al­low, and therefore I pray you get vs libertie of the gaints to enter: but if it be so, that you cannot spéed as you would, we will assist you if we sée any danger. The Prince Platir hea­ring the words of Palmerin, would not trifie any longer time, but haulng drawne his sword, and buckled on his shéeld, he went on nobly against the Giants, who taking their Maces in their hands prepared themselues to receiue the Prince Pla­tir: and when he had set his séete on the first step, which was not past the height of one Cubite, one of the Giants cast his Mace to the ground: and comming two paces froward (as though he had bene a liuing body (he tooke the Prince Platir in his armes, and hauing throwne him downe the two steps to the groued, returued againe to his companion.

Platir being greatly offended to sée himselfe so vsed, came and made a second assault: but he was serued againe as he was before. Which when the Prince Berolde perceiued, hée went and tried his fortune: but hee sped according as Platir did.

Palmerin being agréeued to sée his friends so abused, desired to reuenge this spightfull iniurie, and so aduanced himselfe to [Page] trie the aduenture, not knowing whether the Sage Aliart wold hazard himselfe or no: but because he would be one, he stepped before the Prince, knowing the aduenture was not reserued for him, and making no account to beare his friends company in their foyle, therfore he went to it smyling, but the giants shew­ed him so much fauour, as they did but thrust him foorth againe, because an Image of golde (which stood at the doore within) cried out aloude thus: Take heede you suffer not the Sorce­rer to enter the Chamber, where my Treasure lyes, because he is not worthy.

Then suddenly these two Giants tooke Palmerin by the arme, and thrust him downe one of the staires, which made Palmerin haue an ill opinion of this aduenture, and then he remembred all his good fortunes passed, thinking now he should make a conclusion of all, séeing he could not atchieue the con­quest of this, which séemed to him lesse then any other he had attempted.

In the meane while his thoughts were occupied in this con­ceit, the Sage Aliart, (who knew well his inward afflictions) came to the gate againe, more to be partaker with his friendes in their foyle, then for any opinion he had himselfe to ende the aduenture, and he no sooner offered to charge the Giants, but without making any shewe of resistance, they humbled them­selues at his féete, granting him frée libertie to enter at his plea­sure.

The sight hereof pleased well the Sage Aliart, and as hée stood beholding the workemanship of the doore, the Image of gold (which stood thereas the watchman) opened in the presence of them all, a little Chest, which she held vpon her knées, and hauing taken a key of gold out of it, threwe it downe before them on the ground.

The Sage Aliart stouped and tooke it vppe, and without any further delay opened the doore, when, Palmerin, Platir, and Berolde, comming to him, did all enter with him, they at­tributing the cause of their repulse as thus, that Vrganda had not left the aduenture to be discouered by them, in that her wisedome was discouered by so straunge a meane, this first [Page] chamber being her library, and wherin she was alwayes woont to study: the sight hereof did very much delight their eyes, more then any thing else they had seene in the whole Island. This Library was round about garnished with bookes, which this Sage Lady was alwayes woont to contemplate on, the bookes lying vpon very sumptuous Deskes of Gold, and the Deskes being supported with beasts of Antique worke, being all of the selfe mettall. The couerings of these bookes were of cloath of Gold, hauing at euery corner placed pretious stones of incre­dible value: but the riches of this Chamber might not com­pare with the next to it, the walles whereof was round about decked with costly pictures of ladies, manifesting most rare and singular beauty, they being all in such rich Robes and deuises of apparell, as one would haue iudged them liuing creatures, such was the rare inuention of erte, bestowed on these Images of Goddesses, and diuers other beautifull Ladies. The Princes gazing on these delicate figures, attributed to them maruellous commendation, wishing that their ladies were there present, to sée such braue and sumptuous monumēts: and they iudged that the sight of these beautifull Pictures did as well content their eyes, as though they had séene their best beloued Ladies, being the bett rupt in minde of them by these séemely shadowes. All along one part of this chamber, was the portraits of such kings and Queenes, as liued in ye time of this Sage Magitian Vrgan­da, her owne picture likewise being in the middest of thē, she sit­ting in a chaire of gold, hauing her booke lying before her, wher­on she made semblance as though she read. On the right side of her counterfeit was placed Oriana, the daughter of king Lisu­art, king of great Brittaine, and on the other side was Briolani­a, the Quéene of Sobradisa: then Leonorina, the Princesse of Constantinople, and with her the two faire princesses Melicia, and Olenda, each of them hauing their names impozed vnder them in letters of gold. And such was the rare beauty of these ladies which I haue here named, as not one of thē was etalted aboue the other, but all of them equall together: which maketh me to think, that they which raigned, & had the cōmendation of beautie in the time of the valiant King Amadis, had worthily [Page] the praise is vsed of them, and their knights gained immortall renowne in aduenturing for them. In another place was to be séen Yseul the faire, Geneuera the Quéene to king Arthur, and friend to sir Launcelot du Lake: Yseul with the white hands, was accompanied with many beautiful ladies, which somtime florished in great Brittaine, and of her Bracando was studious to leaue most worthy report, because she was highly estéemed of him. In another place stood the Empresse Polinarda, and A­griola the Empresse of Allemain, Gridonia, Flerida, and Fran­celina, figured so néere their iust proportions, as there wanted nothing but life it selfe: all of them worthy high praise for their delicate swéete faces, but Flerida was supposed to excéed them all. In another place of the Chamber was placed their shad­dowes, who (in the court of the Emperor of Greece) caused ma­ny knights to take aduenturous trauails on them: the first was Polinarda, the Daughter of the vertuous and magnani­mous prince Primaleon, accōpanied with the faire Miragarda, Leonarda ye princesse of Thrace, Altea, Sidelia, daughter to the king Tarnaes of Lacedemonia, & Arnalte the princesse of Na­uarre: as chiefest of these was placed the Princesse Polinarda who séemed in beauty to be aduantaged aboue the other. And there was the prince Florendos pointed, to sée if fortune wold respect him any more in that place, and to speake indifferently, such was the workmanship bestowed like wise on Miragarda, as one could hardly iudge whether Polinarda did excell her or no. Oriana and Briolania were of such equalitie together, as it would haue tried a sharpe wit to say, which of thē was fairest: but yet the portrait of the faire Oriana, was set forth with more shew of grauity, as wel beséemed the daughter of such a famous king, assuring you that her ciuill and gratious countenance, was able to haue woone the victory of the precisest eye.

But what if vpon these beautifull motions, each one of these knights should haue fallen from affecting his best beloued? for I promise you, that nether Oriana, Briolania, Polinarda, Fleri­da, nor Miragarda, was not to be cōpared to Yseul the faire: yet notwithstanding, no one of them could be moued to that opini­on, for each of them was so deceitfull in regard to his Saint, as [Page] all other beside did but offend their eyes. For thus they perswa­ded themselues, that true and faithfull hope being grounded in the heart, and firmely fixed in the eyes of any man, could not be remoued by any sinister occasion, in that their thoughts were setled, and their liking satisfied: but they that are chan­ged with euery countenance, and euery face liketh them, but none contenteth them, they are such recreants from Loue, as they are not worthy to come within his court.

The Princes commended the beauty of Yseul, as it worthi­ly descrued, but yet they thought their owne Ladies fairer then she, and so they stood maruailing at these delectable in­uentions, whereon they could not gaze sufficient, their desires were coursing in such an endlesse Laborinth. Beyond them all, the Prince Palmerin was rauished in affection, séeing the counterfeite of her that did so much torment him, she being attired in the same manner, as she was when he took his farewell of her: whereupon he fell into such an arrogant con­ceite, as though it were his Lady Polinarda indéed, and fearing he had moued her to any offence, he began in this manner to speake to the Picture.

Madame, I know you are she who onely hath the power to command me, but what profite do I receiue in vsing such spée­ches to her, who maketh her selfe deafe, and will not heare me? And yet do I couet y you would but respect my words, which fauour would but strengthen my loue, and lengthen my life. But I sée wel madam, you make no accoūt of the words which may and can preuent my vnhappy destinie: wherefore, by how much I vtter them to my great detriment and grief, by so much the sooner shall I knit vp my small lamentations, and this I assure you, that I am he who onely liues to die for your sake. Platir vsed the like language towards Sidelia, the Daughter to king Tarnaes of Lacedemonia, to whom he was shortly af­ter espoused. Berolde the Prince of Spaine finding not his La­dy and Mistres in this place, failed not to praise her, as though she had bene in presence: for it is the custome of a true and faith­full louer, who delighteth in her he made his choise of, whether she be absent or present, yet to commend & extoll his only felici­tie, [Page] and so did the Prince Berolde thinke it a great iniurie, that any should commend their Ladies, aboue his best beloued Onistalda, who in sooth did well deserue her place among the other.

And if the Sage Vrganda forgot to place her in her Study, it was for no other occasion, then because the place was so furni­shed with them, who were esteemed the most soueraigne in beautie through the whole world, When they had sufficiently contented their eyes with these braue showes, the Sage Aliart spake vnto them in this manner. I perceiue my Lordes, that these images haue depriued you of naturall vnderstanding, in that they cause you to forget them, whom your duty comman­deth you to vse with honour: wherefore, I pray you doe not séeme so fond in praysing these figures, which are no other but shapes without substance, for in the beholding these, you do but mispend your time, looking for that recompēce which they haue not the power to giue you. And therefore it shall be more neces­sary for you, to goe to them whom the Pictures represent, who in time will more sufficiently content your hearts, then your eyes receiue pleasure in looking on these toyes, which Vrganda giueth you to see at this prefent, by her Enchauntment.

Palmerin hearing the words of his Brother the Sage Aliart, returned to him with this answere. Doe you maruaile (Syr Aliart) if they which behold the liuely presentations, of so faire and beautifull Goddesses, finde good cause to busie their braines, and receiue their memories? Credite me, I thinke no man but would be rauished in delight, to sée things of so rare and excellent importance.

Palmerin spake in this manner, because he would not haue his friends suspect his amorous thoughts, so departing thence, they went againe to the Castle, where (prouision being made) they sate downe to dinner, which being ended, they concluded to depart from the Island: wherevpon, Palmerin caused Satra­fort to be called into his presence, with the other Gentlemen that came in his company, when, Palmerin speaking to his Brother the Sage Aliart, began to vse his spéeches thus.

[Page] If I should not consider with my selfe (my noble friend and Brother) which way Fortune might aduance me to such estate, as I should be able to recompence the manifold courte­sies I haue receiued at your handes, you might repute mée of a most base and ignoble minde: wherefore to witnesse to you the great feare I haue, least I should be condemned amongst the vnthankefull, I here frankely and fréely giue you the Peril­lous Isle, which I haue conquered with great trauaile and losse of my blood, desiring that you would accept thereof, in that it ought rather to be vnder your gouernment, then any other that I know.

Wherefore, I pray you not refuse my gentle gift, and I would it were of such estimation, as I could finde in my heart to bestow vpon you, for I perswade my selfe, that it was the will of Vrganda, it should be reserued for you. And for Satra­fort, I perceiue he is as willing hereto as my selfe, desiring you, that you would account of him as his noblenesse and vertue re­quireth, that you may discharge the duty wherein I am greatly bound to him.

My Lord (answered the Sage Aliart) they of this Island haue good occasion to be offended, séeing you will commit it in­to the handes of him, who is not worthy to come within it: ne­uerthelesse, the earnest desire I haue to doe you seruice, willeth me not to make refusall of your gratious offer, and I accept Satrafort, not as my fubiect, but as my louing friend and com­panion, as well for the valour of his person, as likewise to let you perfectly vnderstand, that I am he who vowes himselfe al­wayes at your commandement.

Thus concluding his spéeches, he offered to take she Prince Palmerins hande to kisse it, but the courteous Prince would not permitte him, then taking the Sage Aliart in his armes, he beganne againe as followeth. My louing Brother, if For­tune rayse me to any such preferment, as I may finde some­what worthie your good desertes, you shall well peceiue the affection I beare you: in the meane while, imagiae the best of mee.

[Page] The Prince Berolde and Platir, commended marueilously the liberalitie of Palmerin, whose presence was more accepta­ble to Satrafort, then the Sage Aliart, so that he would gladly haue changed his maister: neuerthelesse, he concealed his mind closely to himselfe, doubting least he should purchase the displeasure of his new Lord, to whom he aduaunced himselfe to giue him his faith for his dutifull obedience, praying the Knight of the Tiger, that he would continue him in his woon­ted noble fauour. Palmerin vsed such friendly behauiour to­wards him, as he remained well content withall, and hauing left the Sage Aliart to giue order about the customs of the Isle, he imbarqued himselfe in the ship with Argentao, being desi­rous to goe on firme land so soone as he could possible, conside­red also, that hee would haue Arganto returne to his gouern­ment.

And because he would the more commodiously rip vp his se­cret griefe to Siluian, he tooke his leaue of the princes Berolde and Platir, giuing thē to vnderstand, that he must of necessitie goe alone by himselfe, for that hee had an aduenture assigned him, where he promised to be on the day ensuing.

These three thus parting, Platir and Berolde being glad to please the Prince Palmerin in any thing he thought méete, they entred the same Foyst, wherein they were brought thither, and so humbly taking their farewell of Palmerin, they sayled to­wards Constantinople, the wind and weather seruing them so commodious, as in few dayes they attained the firme land.

In like manner did the Prince Palmerin in another Coun­trey, after he had taken his leaue of Argentao, who likewise returned into the Profound Isle, where his Subiects receiued him very [...]atiously, accounting them highly bound to the Prince Palmerin, in ordaining them such a Gouernour, who would in no case suffer the people of that Island to be so cruelly dealt withall, as they had béene before of the bloody Giants.

CHAP. XX.
How Alfernao arriued at the Emperours Court of Constan­tinople, and of that which happened to him.

NOt many dayes after the Knight of the Sa­uage man, was departed from the Citie of Constantinople, the Emperor was aduer­tised of his losse, by the Prince Florians E­squire, which caused no small griefe thorow the whole Court: but it came so to passe, that Alfernao arriued there vpon the sud­den, euen as the Emperour sate leauing on the Table, lamen­ting for the want of his Nephew Florian, and when he had cau­sed him to come before him, Alfernao fell downe at his féete with these words.

Illustrious and most gratious Emperour, I humbly desire your maiesty, that you would thinke of me in your woonted fa­uour & clemency, not remembring my passed transgressions, for if your Grace looke into the depth of them, I shall be found worthy of most grieuous punishment, which your royall cle­mency hath power to moderate, in that you are accustomed to vse mercy to them, whose offences deserue rigorous intrea­ting. I am (dread Prince) that ancient man, who came and re­quested your highnesse assistance, and dissembling with teares and faint spéeches, (which were nothing else but méere deceite) that I had great néede of the ayde of one of your Knightes: wherevpon you granted licence to your noble Nephew, that he should leaue your Court and goe in my company, but I in­tending deceit, was deceiued my selfe, and could not execute on him what I had determined.

Then began Alfernao to discourse to the emperor, the whole successe of his Nephewe Florian of the Forrest, who had sent [Page] him to informe his Maiestie of all that hapned to him, that the report of the Esquire might be the better belieued: whereto the Emperour thus answered.

Certainly Alfernao, you haue brought my déere Friend and Nephew, into the greatest danger that euer could happē to him, and albeit I haue good reason to the contrarie, yet not for thine owne deserts I pardon thée, but for bringing me so good tydings of him, whome the Heauens would not suffer to fall into the hands of the cruell Collambra: but trust mee Alfernao, your dealing shall remaine to me for a sufficient example, how I giue credit hereafter, either to teares or faire spéeches, especially com­ming from such a one as you séeme to be. As for Arlencea, I e­stéeme maruellous well of her courteous dealings towards my Nephew: and if it fortune that she come into my Court, I wit­nesse my good will to requite her honest and vertuous deserts: in the meane time you may goe to your Chamber, and rest your selfe, and if you please to stay the comming of my Nephew and Arlencea, you shall beare record of their entertainment, in hope of which, I remit all that is past.

I would gladly (answered Alfernao) go where the Empresse is, that the feare which shee hath conceyued by the Knight of the Sauadge-mās Esquire, may be perswaded in hearing the truth. While he was thus speaking, the Empresse (accompanied with her Ladyes, came to the Emperours presence, whereof he was very glad, which made him beginne thus.

Madame, I perceiue that the desire you haue to vnderstand what is become of my Nephew Florian, hath caused you to come so suddenly hither, which hath saued this man a labour, for that he was comming to you.

The Empresse and their Ladyes, being all in their accusto­med places, he commanded the Nigromancer Alfernao, to ex­presse againe vnto the Empresse his former discourse, that shee might likewise be acquainted with his deceytfull treason: but the report displeased her very much, as also all her Ladyes and Gentle-women, raysing such a hatred in themselues against Alfernao, as they desired the Emperour they might departe the place.

[Page] The Prince Primaleon séeing the great choller of the Ladies began very pleasantly to smile at them, all the Princes in the Hall likewise bearing him company: and in the meanetime this laughter lasted, they heard a great noyse without in the Pallace, diuers running to know the occasion, they beheld Al­banis the Esquire to the Prince Berolde of Spain, to come lea­ding by the hand the Giantesse Collambra, the sight of whom, made the people to flocke on heaps excéedingly, and such won­dring, as all the Pallace sounded with the Eccho of their noyse.

Albanis entred the great hall holding Collambra by the hand, her face being so fearefull, as moued the Emperour to start suddenly. Alfarnao had no sooner espyed her, but his heart came in a manner dead, neuerthelesse, he couered his gréefe so cunningly as he could, and hauing embraced her, began in this manner.

Madame, it should appeare, that the same misfortune which hath brought me hither, hath had the like authority ouer you: wherefore I desire you to take all patiently, and commit our vnhappines to Fortunes vnstedinesse. When the cruell Col­lambra, (who had all this while eyed the Emperor) heard the words of Alfernao, she began to cry aloud, (suspecting that she was betrayed) as though with her voyce, she would haue shaken the Hall in péeces: and after she had wept bitterly a pretty space, she spake as followeth.

O Alfernao, I sée at this instant, thy monstrous and disloy­all dealing, in that thou hast forgotten the good and kind affec­tion, which my husband Brauorant in his life time did alwaies beare thee, in that thou hast deliuered me into their hands, to whom thou hast also betrayed my daughter, thou hauing vsed the matter so, as I shall neuer sée her againe.

Madame (said Alfernao) I know well the doubt you make of my loyalty, and I sée I must be constrained to satisfie you, by rehearsing my manifold and extreame mifortunes, as well to qualifie your anger towardes me, as to cause you sée how equall our vnhappinesse is, in that one vnhappy Planet hath stroken vs both. Then he began to rip vp the whole cir­cumstance, of that which had happened since his departure [Page] from her, and at the end of his discourse, he gaue her to vnder­stand, that Arlencea her daughter willed her to forget the death of her children, and the enuie shee bare to him that had killed them, which if she did not agrée vnto, she should be in daunger neuer to sée her againe: Collambra returned him this answere. Credite me Alfernao, I am not so much offended at my pre­sent misfortune, as at these thy wordes, wherefore to knitte vp the matter, I giue thée this assurance, that I die, in thinking Arlencea my daughter is so forgetfull of her selfe, as to endure the courtesie of him that hath murthered her brethren, and the death of them is the more yrkesome vnto me, in that she hono­reth him, who hath so much dishonored me. With these words she cast her selfe downe on the ground so furiously, as if was a good whi [...] she would vse any more talke: so, during y time she was in this rage, Albanis, the Prince Beroldes Esquire, aduanced himselfe to make knowne to the Emperour his mes­sage, not forgetting to declare the whole circumstance, of that which happened in the Perillous Isle, both how Palmerin had slaine the Giant Espouuantable, and how his thrée Couzins were depriued of their liues, by the prowesse of his Lord Berol­de, Platir, and the Sage Aliart.

These newes did greatly satisfie the Prince Primaleon, and Gridonia: then further proeeding in rehearsing the dangers, which mooued them all to great admiration. Vpon this Alfer­nao declared how the people of the Profound Isle, had chosen the Knight of the Sauage man for their head and Gouernour, and because he was absent, Palmerin had placed Argentao to rule the Isle. More (quoth hee) the Knightes haue left this Island, and are gone into the Perillous Isle, where they are de­termined to soiourne for a while, and then afterward they will come hither vnto your highnesse Court: to this the Emperour answered thus.

I perceiue that the most noble and knightly aduentures, are reserued for my Nephew Palmerin, of whose welfare I doubt, if he be depriued of the company of the Sage Aliart, therefore, I would both he and the Prince Florian were here together, for that (I promise you) I doe euen long for their company. Then [Page] breaking from the ma [...]ter, he desired Alfernao to tell him, if the Prince Florian did intend to tarry long in the Realme of Spaine.

My gratious Lord (answered Alfernao) he is not determi­ned as yet to returne vnto your Court, before hée haue first showne to A [...]lencea, the Castell of Almaroll. These words were not welcome to Leonarda the Princes of Thrace, shée hauing already giuen entertainment to the Prince Florian in the chiefest place of her heart, for she doubted least the sight of the Princesse Miragarda, would quite extinguish the remem­brance of her: but when shée thought that the Knight of the Sauage man, would enter Combate against him that kept the Shield of Miragarda, she quite and cleane forsooke her former o­pinion, and lauded Fortune, in sending her so good [...] for her seruant.

Polinarda perceiuing the troublesome thoughts of her espe­ciall friend, very softly gaue her this comfort. Madame, and my swéete friend, suffer your Knight to frequent those places where his own affection serueth him, for I dare assure you, that the beautie of neuer a Princesse in the world, can attaine the power to change his fancy, and therefore I pray you be not dis­couraged by the beauty of the Princesse Miragarda, your owne being so sufficient, as I am perswaded, she will not be hired to contend with you.

Madame (answered Leonarda) I am not able to iudge how much I am indebted for your gratious fauour, and séeing loyall friendship commandeth nothing should be concealed betwéene vs, I will let you vnderstand thus much, that your present com­fortable words, hath brought me out of a tedious cōceit, where­in my spirit was grieuously passioned.

The Emperor commanded the Magitian Alfernao, to com­fort Collambra, and to assure her, that for her daughter Arlen­ceas sake, hée did affoord her his fauourable welcome into his Court: and if shée would consent to be baptised, euery one would so greatly honour her, as she should quickely forget the death of her Children. Collambra séeing Alfernao comming, could not suffer him to declare what the Emperor had assigned [Page] him, but as a woman mad and desperate, spake vnto him in this order. How dost thou (Alfernao) recompence the good déeds thou hast receiued at my husbands hands, to render thy selfe so willingly on my enemies side? and by the perswasion of them, thou commest to will me forsake the law, wherein I haue bene nourished and brought vp all my life time: I pro­mise thée, I will both finish my life, and thy treasons together, to the end it may be an example to them, who enterprise things against their dutie, and specially dealing with me, who rested my hope the fidelity, whereof thou madest me assurance by pro­mise. With these words she ran to one of the great open win­dowes of the hall, and before any one could get to her to succor her, she threw her selfe headlong downe into the Court, and Alfernao comming (as though he would haue hindered her) threw himselfe likewise downe after her, Collambra sell so waightily on the stones which were sharpe, as she was brused all in péeces, not hauing the remembrance to speake one word afterward, but Alfernao liued vntill the next morning.

The Emperor and Primaleon were sorry to sée such a despe­rate murder, but the Emperor and the other Princesses reioy­ced, that they were so well deliuered of the cruell Collambra: yet did they gréeue to sée such a bloody stratagem, and being not able to endure this pittifull sight, they withdrew them­selues into their Chambers. The two yong Princesses Leo­narda and Polinarda, passed away the time, in discoursing seue­rally the valiant prowesse of their knights, vntill such time as they were called to Supper.

CHAP. XXI.
How the Princes and Knights which were Prisoners to the great Turk, arriued at the Court of Constantinople, wher­upon the King Recinde deliuered out of prison the Prince Albayzar.

ON the next day the bodies of Collambra and Alfernao were buried, and the Empe­rour sitting conferring with Albanis, the Prince Beroldes Esquire, about many matters of the Profound Isle, an ancient Knight (whom his Maiestie had giuen charge to guard the Port of Constantino­ple,) entred the great Hall, and being come into the Emperors presence he kneeled downe, and spake as followeth.

Inuincible Emperour, if these newes which hath béene re­hearsed of your noble Nephewes, did moue content, amid your manifolds discontents, the tidings which I bring you at this present, will be no lesse welcome to you then the former: for I aduertise your Highnes, that within your hauen is entred foure Gallies from the great Turke, wherein are Polendos, Belcar, and all the other Princes and Knights of our Court, which haue bene kept thus long in prison by the Princesse Targia­naes Father, I came to let your Maiestie vnderstand hereof before they were landed, because it is m [...]ete you should be ac­quainted therewith, before any other.

The Emperour remained so ioyfull of these tidings as pos­sible might be, and without making any answer, he departed forth of the Hall so rauished inwardly with ioy and gladnesse, as he could not tell (for a prettie while) whither to goe: in like manner it happened oftentimes to them, who haue newes [Page] brought them of those things which they are most desir [...]us to haue. At length he came downe the staires into the open court, where he sate downe in a chaire, vntill he might sée them come in at the gates: in the meane while, many knights of his Court came to tell him of the arriuall of his sonne Polendos, but he did not make them any answer, for that his minde was busied, in remembring how many misfortunes had come to him one in another necke, and yet (notwithstanding) they haue all come to a prosperous end, whereupon he humbly desired the heauen­ly Powers to continue him still in their woonted fauourable protection, for it is the nature of men of good iudgement, to doubt of danger after they haue once receiued good successe, for that it hath bene euermore séene, that felicitie and miserie doe not equally happen, but a dram of pleasure, hath commonly a pound of paine. In this maner the good Emperour discoursed secretly with himselfe, and comparing euery cause ioyntly toge­ther, the teares did plentifully run downe his white beard, thinking how Fortune fauoured him in his Age, when hee was worst able to witnesse his dutie to her: Neuerthelesse, he feared he should not long enioy the company of his Knights, their im­prisonment had gone so néere his heart, as hee feared betwéene two extreames to be suddenly rapt away.

While the Emperor was thus winding vp the endlesse bot­tom of vncertain thoughts, the prince Primaleon his sōne came and knéeled before him, giuing him to vnderstand how the Gal­leys whre arriued: wherevpon he commanded his Horse shuld be brought him, & so presently he tooke his way to the Port, ac­companied with his sonne, all the Princes of the Court, and the chiefest inhabitants of the Citie, each one greatly desiring to sée the prisoners. When the Emperor came to the port, he saw on land, Polendos, Belcar, Onistalde, with diuers others, & that he might the better welcom them, he alighted frō his Horse, being very much abashed to sée his Knights in such order, theyr Faces pale & black, their strength weakened, and their boards and haire growne so long, as they which sawe them when they departed frō Constantinople, in the company of the Princesse Targiana, began now scantly to know them: when they were all come on [Page] shoare, the Emperour contained them with the selfe same cour­tesie, and his mild nature did dayly afford towards his especiall friends.

The Prince Belcar presented himselfe to the Emperour, offering to kisse his highnesse hand, but he receiued him in his armes, imbracing him very louingly, and vsed such gratious courtesie towards him, as he did vnto the Prince Primaleon his son, as well for that he had bin brought vp in his Court, as also because he was the sonne of his owne sister, and the hardy Frisoll king of Hungaria his brother and especiall good friend As he continued this fauorable vsage to Belcar, Onistalde, son to the King Recinde, and his owne sonne Polendos, came and knéeled downe before him, then leauing Belcar he returned to them very gratiously, declaring in the sight of euery one his in­comparable beauty: so departing from the Port, he walked with them on foote towards the pallace, refusing to mount on horse­backe, his mind was busied with such excéeding ioy, as well for the recouery of them, as for the Princely commendations Tar­giana had sent him, whō he had now proued his speciall friend. The Prince Primaleon went in the middest betwéene Belcar and Onistalde, and the other Prince and knights came louing­ly, cōmuning with their friends, in which order they all follow­ed the Emperour: who being no sooner come to the Pallace, but there he found the Empresse accompanied with her ladies, attending their comming at the outtermost Gate, she hauing giuen the knights her amiable welcome, the Emperour com­manded they should be brought to their chambers, for that their great trauaile on the Seas required some rest.

The Princes were conducted into the Emperors chamber, according as it was the custome for those whom he estéemed, at their arriuall, and they were scant out of the great hall, when, they perceiued to enter a Turkish Esquire, who coming before the Emperor, began to salute him with these words. My gra­tious Lord, Almaneor Ambassador from the great Turk, com­manded me to let your maiestie vnderstand, that he is loth as yet to take landing, fearing lest he should hinder the pleasure your highnesse conceiueth, séeing your knights so safely retur­ned, [Page] he being come with them, and hath here sent them vnto your maiestie: wherefore, he desireth you would not iudge a­misse of him, in that he hath done, and if so be he haue in ought mooued offence to your Highnesse, he will to morrow morning come and be sorie for it, when he wil make you acquainted with the summe of his ambassage, which will cause you to loose part of the contentment, which at this present your knights hath a­nimated you withall.

Certainely my friend (answered the Emperour) I am sorry that I did not make more remembrance of him, but let him commit the fault to my knights with whom I will enioyne in making amends againe to morrow, because I shall sée him to day, he being willing to rest himselfe this night in his galley. The esquire departed with this courteous answere of the Em­peror, who taking the Empresse by the hand, withdrew them­selues into their chamber, where they passed the night with greater contentment, then they had done of many daies before.

But when faire Phoebus in the morning had displayed his golden face on the earth, the Empresse walked to the Chappell to heare seruice, the Emperour and the knights being farre be­hind her, and seruice being ended, they all dined with the Em­presse in her chamber, for that she had determined to feast Po­lendos, Belcar, Onistalde, and the other Princes, who were serued at dinner with maruellous great state.

The Tables being withdrawne, the Emperor commanded the principall knights of his court, to goe welcome on land the great Turkes Ambassadour, to whom he would shew himselfe honourable, as well for that he would not be thought vngreate­full, hauing recouered home againe his knights, as also to vn­derstand the will of the great Turke.

Polendos, Belcar, and the rest of them that had béene priso­ners, went foremost to receiue him on shoare, because they would not haue him thinke, that they had forgotten the kind­nesse he shewed them on the Seas: where Primaleon was somewhat displeased, because his nature could not suffer him to vse such kindnesse, towards them he knewe his professed e­nemies.

[Page] Polendos with his company being come to the Port, (hée with such as he thought good (tooke a Barge, and went aboord the Galley to the Ambassador, and brought them on shore with them very nobly, with such a noise of drums, phifes, trumpets, & clarians, as the Turkes wondred at this royall entertainment. The Ambassador nothing the great courtesie of Polendos, who was diligent in shewing him the greatest honour might be, knew very well, that this excéeding humanitie came from him that was their Lord and gouernor: wherevpon he considered, that a Prince so wel beloued of all, as the Emperour Palmerin was, should finde more friends to aid him in his necessity, then enemies to molest him.

All this while, the Emperor attended the Ambassadors com­ming to the Empresse chamber, accompanied with his sonne Primaleon, and many Princes and Knights of his Court, and the Ambassador (who was the same man that came before, to request in the great Turks name, the fréedome of Albayzar, in change of those Princes that were prisoners in Turkie) be­ing in the Presence of the Emperour, made him such humble reuerence as his Maiestie well deserued, and not vsing any such proude behauiour, as he did at his first comming to Con­stantinople.

The emperor welcommed him very gratiously, desiring him not to be offended, because he did not accept of him y day before according as willingly he would haue done. Most worthy Em­perour (sayd the Ambassadour) I am not of so small discretion, but I knew well how busie you were yesterstay, in receiuing home them, whō you haue so long looked for: but letting these néedlesse matters passe, I must request to know your highnes minde, as concerning the libertie of the prince Albayzar, whom you would not sende to the great Turke my Lord, for that you doubted he would not sende home them, whom he kept as pri­soners. As touching the deliuerance of them, my Lord hath bin so hardy as to trust to your gentlenes, onely at the intrea­tie of his daughter Targiana, hée hauing no assurance for the Prince Albayzar his daughters husband, but onely the word of her who is your great friend: & desireth that you would now [Page] send home her beloued Lord Albayzar, of whom the great Turke himselfe willed not me to vse any spéech, hauing ioyned me to speake of those things, which will but little please you in the hearing them: the Emperour returned him this answer.

I know not what the great Turke your Lord hath determi­ned to make me acquainted withal, but I am so accustomed to doubtfull occasions, as let his mallice stretch neuer so far, and his deuises purchase what scope he can, yet haue they no power to make me feare. But for the Princesse Targiana, I am to thinke my selfe highly in her debt, in that her earnest intreatie wonne the libertie of knights, and surely it gréeueth me, that her father would be so enuious towards me, who would with all my heart, haue his daughter againe in my Court, that I might recompence some part of her gentlenesse she hath vsed to me, and for that she would so kindly pledge her selfe vpon the assurance she reposeth in my fidelitie.

Moreouer, I promise you Sir, I haue written to the King Recinde, that he should not faile to send me the Prince Albay­zar, and I beléeue certainly it will not belong before he come hither: wherefore, I pray you to stay here till he come, and in the meane time I will vse the matter so, as the Turke your Lord shall be rid of his doubt, and the Princesse Targian a sa­tisfied to her owne contentment.

I am of the opinion (said the Ambassadour) that the Prince Albayzar will be here, and that quickly, for the Damosel (who was sometime sent in secret to your mistresse, was dispatched with her message twenty dayes before my setting forth, that she should let the King Recinde and the Prince Albayzar vn­derstand of my cōming, and certifie them likewise of the liberty of our knights: by meanes whereof, they will not faile to come hither to your Court, vntill which time I am determined (by your licence) to soiourne here, but I will not declare my Lord the Turkes minde, before I sée the Prince Albayzar, neuerthe­lesse, I here present you with his gratious letter, and after you haue well vnderstood the contents thereof, I will declare what I haue in charge.

[Page] There pausing, he tooke forth of his bosom a letter written in p [...]rchment, and sealed with the Armes of the great Turke, the which he humbly presented vnto the Emperour, who presently caused it to be opened, and perceyuing thereby, that the Turke willed him to giue faithfull credit to what the Ambassador said, he desired him to report the cause of his arriuall: whereto the Ambassador thus replyed.

My gracious Lorde, I knowe you haue not forgotten the day, when the Princesse Targiana came vnto your Court, ney­ther the subtiltie wherewith she was entised, and brought forth of her Fathers Courte, by the guilefull dealings of your Ne­phew, the Knight of the Sauadge-man, who was hindered in such sort in his iourney, as he could not bring the Princesse Tar­giana vnto your Court: but she being here, was entertained by your Excellencie, the Empresse, and the Princesse Polinarda, in such gratious manner, as she estéemeth her selfe (during life) bound to you for your manifolde courtesies. And my Lorde the Turke (in regard of your Noble fauour toward his Daughter) would gladly (in any thing hee could) witnesse his beneuolent minde to you, forgetting all iniuryes past, for his faire Daugh­ter Targianaes sake: but with this condition by the way, that your Maiestie offer him nothing against right or reason, for if you do [...], hée shall be constrained by forcible strength, to reuenge the shame and iniurie he hath receyued by the Knight of the Sa­uadge-man.

And for the substance of his minde, it is thus in briefe, he de­sireth you to send vnto him the Knight your Nephew, because he would chastise him for his haynous offence. And if you refuse to satisfie his request, he commaundeth me to let you vnderstand, he is your enemie, and will so reuenge that Knights abuse, as all the world shall take example by him.

I cannot belieue (said the Emperor) that the Turke your lord will seem to threaten him, at whose hands he requireth nothing but Iustice, the which I being very willing to doo, cannot thinke well of your present procéedings, for that in sooth you demaund no Iustice. Besides, it is not reasonable to graunt what your [Page] lorde requireth, for if Florian be accused for bringing away his Daughter, I answer, that he did it at the earnest intreatie and desire of her selfe: So that your lorde (I perceyue trauelleth in vain after my Nephew, the Knight of the Sauadge-man whom I will not send vnto him, if I wist he should be as welcome to him as to my selfe. And if I should seeme to content the will of your lord, I cannot send my Nephew except he please himselfe, and I am perswaded he will not consent vnto it, much lesse his Father, who is a Prince of great authoritie.

If this reason I haue made you, will not content the will of your lorde the Turke, I am willing to receyue whatsoeuer he please, eyther to bring or send me, but I am sorie I am so farre spent with yéeres, that I cannot shewe him what I haue beene sometime. Neuerthelesse, for a sufficient witnesse of my selfe, I will sende him the Knight whome hee demaundeth, that hee may tell him what I would doo my selfe, and let him be bolde, that Knight will doo his errand to the vttermost. As for other aunswere I wish you not to looke for at my handes, wherefore I thinke it good you goe to rest your selfe, and when the Prince Albayzar commeth, if you [...]inde the time so conuenient for you, you may departe when you please: and in the meane time, I will honor you with such courteous entertainment, as you shall thinke well off.

I was assured before (answered the Ambassadour) of the answere you would make me: wherefore hauing fulfilled my charge, I néede not for this matter henceforward vse any more words.

When the Ambassadour had thus concluded, P [...]lendos de­sired the Emperour, that he would suffer him to entertaine the Turkish Infidell, while he stayed there, wherevnto the Empe­rour gladly consented, and Polendos bringing him into his Lod­ging, failed not to let him see, that enimies were better welcom­med in the Emperours Court, then Friendes were to his lorde the great Turke.

Primaleon remained very well contented, hauing heard the an­swer of the Emperor his father, as also for that he had so def [...]ded [Page] the cause of the Knight of the Sauage man, for the loue of whom the Princesse Leonarda was diuersely mooued, fearing least he should fal into the great Turkes hands, who would appease the anger of his stomacke, in sacrificing the good and hardy Knight to his Gods.

The sudden dumps of this yong Princesse, was well percei­ued by her swéete friend Polinarda, who hid her knowledge thereof for the present time, vntill they had brought the Em­presse to her chamber: then they two walking together to their Lodging, Polinarda demanded the cause of her griefe, where­vpon the Princesse Leonarda, being ignorant that Targiana had béene brought to Canstantinople by the noble Florian of the Forrest, or how else the matter stood, but she desired Polinar­da (if so it were her pleasure) to declare how these occasions had happened.

When the Princesse had herein satisfied her minde, shée re­mained in sorrow without measure, as well by occasion of sus­pecting the beautie of Targiana, as also to thinke on the ingra­titude of the Knight of the Sauage man, so that at that very in­stant she reputed him as a man without faith, loue, or regard of loyaltie, and she would gladly haue deuised the meane, where­by to banish the remembrance of him forth of her heart. Which the Princesse Polinarda perceiuing, and willing to preuent any mischance, that should happen to her Couzin, she began to vse her talke in this manner.

Madame, thinke you the Prince Florian will be the same man to you, as he was to the Princesse Targiana? You must not thinke so, for their loue (as it was then) was not to be al­lowed among persons of honour, and that which made him so ready to thinke well on her, was for no other occasion, but that he might finde the meanes to get out of the hands of the great Turke her Father: and from that Court he could neuer haue escaped, had it not béene by the aide of the princesse Targiana, so that to satisfie her will, & helpe his own necessity, he made him­selfe so hardy to bring her into Greece, where being arriued, he left her, knowing that it was no honorable signe, that a christi­an Knight should make loue to an Infidell Moore. Now ther­fore [Page] it is not for you to ground your iudgement on that which is done and past, for that your beauty farre excelleth the blacke hew of the Princesse Targiana, and you being accounted as one of the most renowned Ladies through the whole world, must iudge thus with your selfe, that he will not a little boast of his good fortune, being entertained into your gratious seruice.

And on my word you may assuredly build, the Knight of the Sauage man is onely yours, and he would not follow the ad­uentures he hath enterprised, but onely in hope to gaine your fauourable acceptation: wherefore I pray you let the considera­tion of that I haue spoken, cause you to forsake the conceit you haue of my Couzin.

Madame, (answered Leonarda) you haue woon such power ouer me by your friendly words, as I am forced to forget my former imaginations: but yet it is to be doubted that your Cou­zin will be inueigled, séeing be hath the conducting of so many Ladies through the Realme of Spaine.

Good swéete Lady (saide Polinarda) I pray you let not your spirits be troubled with these suspitious passions, for your Knight is not of so weake iudgement, as any other should make him to forget you, for such aduentures happen commonly to trauelling Knights, to méet in many places with Ladies and Damoselles, the company of whom maketh them to haue the better remembrance of those, who ruleth their thoughts by the soueraigntie of loue: as for my Couzin, I dare giue you my faith that he is none but yours, and thereof (on my word) you may assure your selfe.

These spéeches that Polinarda vsed, did so perswade the yong Princesse of Thrace, as she quite forsooke her iealous thoughts, which before was caried with so many contraries, as there was hardly any place for reason to harbour. As it often happe­neth to them, who play the wantons with the little blind boy of the Goddesse Cytherea.

CHAP. XXII.
How the Knight of the Sauage man (accompanied with the Damosels) arriued in the King of Spaines Court, and of that which happened to him there, against the Prince Al­bayzar.

THe Ambassador from the great Turke, stai­ed certaine dayes in the Court of the Em­perour, in the company of the Prince Po­lendos, who made better account of him there, then his entertainement in Turkie deserued, and many along looke made the Ambassador, waighting the cōming of the Prince Albayzar, the Emperour and Primaleon could not suf­ficiently commend the courtesie of the Princesse Targiana; in that her teares ransommed the Christian prisoners foorth of their trouble.

Here wée must come againe to the Knight of the Sauage man, who iournied so spéedily (after he had vanquished the foure Knights in the Valley, and gotten the Damosels) as he arri­ued in the Citie of Brusia, which at this time is called Tolledo, where the King Recinde as then made his aboad, who was not a little glad, when tydings came to him of the libertie of his sonne, and the other Knights, which were held in captiuitie by the great Turke.

So seene as Florian was come to the kings Pallace, he cal­led his Esquire to him, desiring him to goe let the Quéene and her Ladies vnderstand, that a strange Knight was come thi­ther, who enterprised (if her maiestie thought it so conuenient) to approue himselfe against the King Recindes Knights. The Esquire being acquainted with the will of his Lord, presently went into the Pallace, where he was brought to the Quéenes Chamber, the King himselfe being there, for that he had dyned there in the company of the Quéene and her Ladies, whom the Esquire beholding, iudged them very faire and beautifull, [Page] marry he found a great difference betwéene them, and the La­dies he had seene in the Court of the Emperour Palmerin.

The Esquire aduancing himselfe into their presence, went first and humbled himselfe to the king Recinde, then comming to the Quéene, he knéeled downe and spake as followeth.

Madame, a strange knight, in whose company I came vn­to your Court, hauing passed thorow your Realme, is now de­sirous to try himselfe in Armes, against the Knights of your royall Court, for the great desire he had to doe seruice to the King your husband, but such is your intent, as he procéedeth on the request of certaine Ladies he hath brought in his company, which preuaileth so much with this good knight, as (if your Ma­iestie so accept of it) he would venture the Ioust with the Knights of your Court, who wil maintaine the beauty of their Ladies, to excell them he hath brought with him. And that he might procéede in his enterprise, he rather intended to aske leaue of you then of the King, because he knowes he shall not any way offend his excellency. The King and the Quéene were verie glad of these newes, in that Fortune had sent them the tryall of those matters they most desired, which was in a man­ner very dainty there, for that the Emperours Court of Greece carryed such a braue report, as all the noble Knights in the world went thither to try their valour. Beside, if any aduen­ture were approued in the Realme of Spaine, they were alto­gether done at the Castle of Almaroll: so that these two afore­named places, had the generall triall of famous knights. The King of Spaine séeing the Quéen returned the Esquire no an­swer, he spake to her in this manner. Trust me Madame, you ought not to refuse the gentle offer of the knight as wel to satis­fie their minds, which haue desired to sée such hauty exployts, as also to auoyd the secret hard iudgment of your ladies, who (I am sure) would gladly sée y courage of their fauoured knights, the Quéene mildly returned this answer. Since it liketh you so wel my gratious Lord) that the request is to be alowed, thou mayst (Esquire) say vnto the knight, that the King and I do [...] thinke very well of his comming to our Court, and that we do [...] permit him the libertie of the Ioust, against any [Page] that will enter the fielde with him, whether it be for the Ioust or Combate, that is as the occasions shall happen, but howsoe­uer it be, the King alloweth him the fréedome of the fielde, and if the Knight desire to resist himselfe, hée shall be most hartely welcome, then to morrow morning he may put his intent in execution.

The greatest rest or quiet (answered the Esquier) which the Knight my Maister desireth to haue, is that he may finde such Knights, on whom he may bestow the breaking of some Lan­ces, but since your Maiesty hath so fréely granted him the Ioust I will not faile to let him vnderstand your gracious pleasure: in the meane while, I hope your Knights will put themselues in a readinesse.

The Esquier was no sooner departed, but the King went and looked foorth at one of the windows, and seeing the Knight in the fielde, among so many Ladies, hée saide to the Quéene: Madame, come hither, and you shal see the strangest aduenture, that euer you did in all your life. Certainely (said the Quéene, when shee had well beheld the Knight and the Damoselles) it should séeme they haue a good opinion of the Knight, they be­haue themselues so amiably in his company, and one of the la­dies appeareth in stature, as it were a Giantesse. Indéede said the King, her strangenesse makes me to eye her the more, and for the Knight, I iudge either he is very foolish, or else he is com­pelled by the commandement of some great Princesse, to leade about with him these Damosels.

While the King and the Quéene stood thus ieasting on the Knight and the Damosels, the Prince Albayzar (who was giuen to vnderstand of this aduenture) came foorth of his Chamber, and when he came to the Pallace gate, he mounted on Horsebacke, and came to the window where the King and Queene looked foorth, and hauing giuen them the salutation of the day, and questioned somewhat about the enterprise of the Knight, he determined to trie the Combate with him. But his hasty intent was staied at this time, for that a Knight very well armed came into the fielde, monnted on a lusty Coursar, and bearing for his deuise in his Shielde, a white Hart, in a [Page] field of Sable. The knight being in the place where the Ioust was determined, the Esquire (who had béene before sent with the message to the Quéene) spake vnto him in this order.

Sir, the Damosels knight, saith that he is not accustomed to Ioust, without that which shall be his recompence if hée re­maine victor.

Wherefore I pray you let him vnderstand, what shall bée his desert if he chance to conquer you: for if the victory fall on your side, he will yeeld the Damosell vnto you, which you shall thinke best on in all the company: the Spanish Knight replyed thus.

The knight (my friend) as it séemes to me, is farre beyond the scope of my minde, in that he would trouble other folkes, with them that he would be gladly rid of himselfe: wherefore you may say vnto him, that I am such a Ladies seruant, to­wards whom I haue dot yet so well deserued, as (if I were vanquished) to yeeld her vp into his custodie. And I come for no other cause into this place, but to let him well and truely vn­derstand, that the beauty of those Damosels, may not compare with the heauenly face of my Lady. And if my fortune proue so good, as my triall will preuaile. I shall content my selfe without expecting any other recompence at the Knights hands: there­fore till him I would gladly know, for whom he presumeth to hazard the Ioust.

The Esquire hauing brought the Spanish Knights answere to his Lord, hée did content himselfe very well therewith: Marry tell him (quoth he) that I haue not the leisure to name the Lady, in whose cause I fight, but if hée be so happie as to conquer me, I will withall my heart satisfie his request. The Esquire went to him againe with his Maisters minde, which when the Spaniard heard, hée presently entred into these words. I perceiue that thy maisters proud and hauty stomack, which made him so bold to enter the fielde, causeth him now to be so braue in spéeches: wherefore I must take paines to as­swage his courage, because I will helpe him away with one of his Damosels.

The King Recinde and Albayzar, who marked well their [Page] large language, desired to sée if their déedes would counteruaile their wordes, especially if the Damosels knight were such a one as he made himselfe to be. At last they broached their horses with their spurs, and ran together with so great force, as the Spanish knight, who was the seruant to Policia, the daughter to Duke Ladislart, receiued such a pleasant stroke, (the Da­mosell Knight hauing broken his staffe so iust vpon him) [...]as his Shield was rared thorow the midst, and himselfe throwne to the ground with his heeles vpward: but hee recouered himselfe quickly like a good Knight, and drawing his sword, came to reuenge the foyle hee sustained in the Ioust, which the Damoselles Knight beholding, he stayed him with these spéeches.

Sir knight, I came not to craue licence for the combat with the sword, wherefore I pray you pacifie your selfe, and let me Ioust with these fiue Knights, who I see attend for me, and if I be so happy to escape out of their hands not disaduantaged, I shall be content to pleasure you in your owne desire.

The Spanish knight was so offended at this mishap, as he cared not if he had dyed there presently, but that the king com­manded him to auoyd the place.

Then one of the fiue knights entred the field, but he was welcommed like the first, and so in briefe did they all beare one another company: which Albayzar seeing, said, that the Damoseles might not be woon without good paines were be­stowne, they hauing such a good and hardy Knight to defend them. The Damosels Knight hauing broken foure Launces, withdrewe himselfe, attending when his Esquire should bring him another. Then Albayzar (seeing the Knights ne­cessitie) sent him one of his owne Launces, which was blacke, and the head was of pure Gold, but the Damoselles Knight would not receiue it, speaking to him that brought it in this manner.

Thou mayest say vnto Albayzar, that the little loue and good will I beare him, maketh mee disdaine to receyue any thing hee sendeth. Aduauncing himselfe towards, hee tooke a Launce that was sent him by the King, wherewith he charged [Page] another knight that came against him, in such sort, as he was cast out of his Saddle so boisterously, that for a good while he re­mained senslesse. In the meane while the Damosells Knight gallopped on to the end of the course, because he could hardly stay his horse▪ the vanquished Knight arose and departed out of the field and then the Prince returned backe againe to the place, where Albayzar sate to behold the ioust, who came and tooke him by the arme, vsing these spéeches to him. Sir knight, I iudge that the little knowledge you haue of me, hath made you to despise and contemne the Lance I sent you, but yet I parden your folly in so doing.

I desire (said the Damosels Knight) to beléeue the words I sent you by your Esquire, and perswade your selfe, that I know you to be Albayzar the Souldan of Babylon, with whō I would willingly enter the Combat: Albayzar hearing these words, answered him thus.

I am content (because you know me so well) that you shall not take a surfeit by loosing your desire, and if you will stay till my [...] be brought hither, I will breake this Lance on you, because you presumed to refuse it: and afterwards, I will entertaine you with the Combate, when, I doubt not but to giue seuere chasticement, to your proud and mallapart stomacke.

I would with all my heart, aunswered the Damoselles Knight, that thou we [...]t armed, for my mallice is such against thee, as I cannot tell it, but thou shalt féele it. Albayzar pre­sently sent for his Armour, and the King séeing their fury, and noting the high wordes that had passed betweene them, came down into the field to them, to the end he would not that Al­bayzar should fall into any misfortune, before he had bene first in the [...]perours Court, to which place the Turke had sent the imprisoned knights, because he would recouer home again Albayzar [...]: for which cause the king Recinde would not permit them to trie the combate, and scantly would he suffer them to ioust together, so greatly he feared lest the Damo­selles Knight, would endaunger the person of the Prince Al­bayzar.

[Page] The Quéene was verie well pleased, in that by the meanes of the Damosels knight, she perceiued the valor of the knights of the Spanish Court, and the Damosels (albeit they reioyced not in their ill fortune which were vnhorsed) yet they greatly commended the prowesse of their knight, that had defended them so well. And still they looked for the comming of the Spa­nish Ladies to them, delighting that they had no better ser­uants to venter for them, but the Ladies themselues gréeued, to see their good friends so vnfortunately foyled.

CHAP. XXIII.
How the Damosels Knight and Albayzar Iousted together.

NOt long it was before the Prince Albay­zars esquires returned with their maisters armour, which was blacke, and streamed all ouer with little stroakes of Gold, and when the Prince of Babylon was armed, and had taken the same Lance which Flo­rian refused he came before the king, spea­king to him in this manner. I desire you (my gracious Lord) that you would not disswade me from my enterprise, because I know my selfe able to reproue this Knight, that shewed him­selfe so disdainfull towards him, whom I am sure you would not haue receiue any shame in your Court: to which words the king thus replyed.

Albayzar, I am so earnest in regard of your well doing, as I would be sorry any thing should happen to you here but well, wherfore, to grant you the Combate against the strange knight, trust me, I neither dare, nor will consent to it, as well for the care I haue of your person, as for that I will giue no [Page] occasion to the Emperour Palmerin, whereby he may thinke a­ny ill by me.

Well then (quoth Albayzar) I hope this Lance shall do so much as I would haue it, but if it do not, I may well complain on your highnesse, in that you will not suffer me to punish the pride of this knight. Good Sir (said the Damosels knight) doe not thus waste the time in needelessé words, it were good you prepared your selfe to the Ioust, and if I be prouder then you would haue me, punish me as you see occasion: but yet doe no more then you dare do, for if fortune so friend you, as you re­maine victor ouer me, let my paiment be such as you shal please and there is an end.

I pray you (quoth Albayzar) do me so much fauour, as to tell me who you are, for I assure you, I would gladly know for two causes: the first, that I might not be ignorant of the knight whom I shall vanquish: the second, if so be I speed not accor­ding to my desire, that I may the better enquire after you as I trauaile abroade: the answer of the Damosels Knight was this.

It is not my wil to satisfie thy honor so much, but perswade thy selfe, that I am the greatest enemy that euer thou hadst in all thy life, and I gréeue that I may not haue libertie of the Combate against thee, because I long haue wished to haue my fill on thee: but since it is the pleasure of the King it shall not be, I will not presume to exceede his highest will, neuerthelesse I will awaite the time, when I may deale with thee according to my desire.

If I be not deceiued (answered Albayzar) I think I know know you, for I thinke I haue seene you sometime in the Ca­stle of Dramorant the Cruell, where you made your selfe so bold to vse such language, as I haue not yet forgotten: where­fore assure your selfe, that the speeches thou diddest vse there, & the brauery thou seemest to haue at this present, shall be the destruction of all such, as dare afford their ayde in the iniury I haue receiued. But for that I may a little ease my stomacke, both in taking reuenge, and quailing thy vsurping boldnesse, [Page] which I cannot so deale with all as I would, till fitter time serue: or my purpose: I desire that thou wouldest breake one Staffe with me, vnder the name of some [...]word Lady, that I may see whether she deserue better in praise then my Lady whom I run for, the [...]aire Princesse Targiana.

I will take her (said the Damosels Knight) which is the s [...]mplest in beautie of all these in my company, for my fauourite at this time, & in her seruice I am determined to ioust against you. I would wish (quoth Albayzar) because the Lady I haue named (is the gratious Mistresse of my fight▪ is knowne to be of great and high authoritie, that you would name your most fauoured to be such a one, as may be thought worthy to equall her.

You presse me ouermuch (answered the Damosels knight) in that you would haue me reueale that which I will not, but this I aduertise you, that Fortune hath made me seruant of a Lady, in whose gratious fauour I [...] and will not let the so­ueraigntie of her name be sh [...]wen in any [...], but onely such as are of great importance: yet since I see you af [...]ect so much, I am content to breake one Lance with you for her sake. And because your thoughts may be the better satisfied, I assure you, that she is tarre more excellent in beautie then the Princesse Targiana, and so singular aboue her, as her name is not worthy to be talked on, in respect of my royall and incom­parable Mistresse. And I desire that you would not request to know her name, because I haue vowed to keepe it in secret, that I may the better make others maruaile, what and who she should be. I cannot suffer (said Albayzar) thy reproachfull spéeches, especially when thou seemest to dispraise her, whose beautie no Lady liuing can any way equall.

Then these two Knights departed to fetch their car [...]ire, and ranne together with singular courage, Albayzar hauing before his eyes the loue of his Lady Targiana, and the mi [...] ­ [...]ie that his enemie had offered him, and the Damoselles Knight was accompanyed with the secret good will of the Princesse Leonarda: in briefe, these two Knights were so [Page] greatly affectionate towards their Ladies, that they encoun­tred together with such force, as their Launces flew vp into the aire in pieces, and so they passed on, not being shaken any thing at all. When they were come to the end of the race, they failed not to take newe staues, which were broken againe like as the first were, and yet no further aduantage on either side.

The King of Spaine made great estimation of the noble va­lor which he perceiued in the Damosels Knight, and deuised how he might accomplish the meanes to knowe who he was: for he doubted not but Albayzar would discharge his dutie wel enough, because the Shield of the Princesse Miragarda, had made his valiancy well knowne the Court of the Emperor Palmerin.

These two Princes were very much amazed, séeing they could haue no more aduantage ouer one another, where­vpon they tried the third Launce, wherewith they mette to­gether so forcibly, as the Damolles Knight lost one of his Stirroppes, and was cast vppon the croupper of his Horse: in like manner, Albayzar forsooke both his stirropes, and was constrained to catch holde about the necke of his Horse, and greatly offended they were both of them, hauing Iou­sted so many times, and yet could not speede of that which they seuearely desired, wherefore, they determined not to de­part then, before one of them should bee cast beside his Saddle.

Then these two redoubted Knights, went to prooue their fourth Launce, which hauing in their hands, Albayzar spake to the Damosels knight thus.

I pray you Sir fauour mee, in dooing that which I must de­mand of you: the Damosels Knight would passe no further, be­fore he had returned him this answere.

Of trueth Sir, I am thus intended, not to depart hence before I see you on the ground, therefore I pray you trauaile not your selfe, in desirig any other thing of mee.

Certainely Sir (said Albayzar) I would not haue thought [Page] you had béene so vncourteous, neuerthelesse, I will yet intreate you once more, that you would goe present your selfe before the giant Almaroll, (if so be I prooue so fortunate as to foyle you) and say to him, that by your meanes I haue acquited the bond, wherein the Princesse Miragarda so straitely tied me, in that she may see the Knight, that Iousted against the beauty of my Lady Targiana: and if it happen that fortune fauour you with the victory, I will doe any thing you shall command me.

You offer me so faire play (said the Damosels Knight, as I cannot otherwise choose but consent to your request. Thus they pointed to fetch their course, and they met together so directly, as their Launces being broken, they buckled together mighti­ly with their bodies, hauing giuen each other such a rough grée­ting, as the Damosels knight was compelled to forgoe both his stirrops greatly amazed: but Albayzar measured his length on the ground, so sore shaken, as he lay in study a prety while. The Damosels knight séeing him so astonished▪ said vnto him: You may know what aduantage you haue gotten, in that you haue not leaue to trie the Combate with me. Then he caused his Helmet to be opened, that he might receiue some aire, and when he had sitten a good space, grieuing at his misfortune, e­specially in the presence of the King Recinde, hée arose, being holpen vp by Gentlemen, whom the King commanded to ho­nour him so much: wherevpon the Damosels Knight beganne thus againe.

Albayzar you may perceiue how little fortune fauours you, and what aduantage I haue woon, maintaining the beauty of my gratious Mistres the princesse of Thrace, to whom I pray you present your selfe, when you shall arriue in the Emperour Palmerins Court, and there you shall say to her thus: That a strange Knight, who calleth himselfe the Damosels Knight, hoth vanquished you, & commanded you to submit your felfe to her excellency. And when thou hast séene her, let thine own eies be iudge, whether the beauty of Targiana may presume to com­pare with hers, when it thou be not too deepely drowned in thine owne conceit, thou wilt recant thy former blasphemous [Page] error, and thou maist assure her, how I am greatly grieued, that this present seruice is of no more importance, being the first that she hath receiued of me as yet: Albayzar in a rage made this answere.

I will not faile in kéeping my promise to thée, and if the gods vouchsafe me liue so long, I will present thy head to my Lady the Princesse Targiana, in reuenge of the shame I haue this day receiued at thy hands. I would be sory (said the Damosels Knight) that thou shouldest die in this minde: then returning his face to the King Recinde, he said. I desire your Grace that you would suffer me to depart, and that you would not be offended because I declare not who I am: but this you may per­swade your selfe, that there is no one Knight in the world, that doth more wish your good, and is readier to doe you seruice then my selfe: to which words the King thus replyed.

Since it is not your will (Sir Knight) then you would be knowne, I will not be he that shall moue you to the contrary: but if at any time you passe this way, I desire you to visit me, for in sooth you shall be welcome. I thanke your Grace most humbly (answered the Damosels Knight) and the great ho­nour and courtesie I haue found at your hands, shall not be forgotten so long as I liue. Then taking one of the Launces that were left, he gaue a reuerent shewe of obeysance to the King, the Quéene, and all the Ladies (who tooke great delight in him, beholding his knightly behauiour) and so he departed with his company.

The King returned into his Castle, accompanied with the Prince Albayzar, whose heart was so intruailously ouercome with griefe, as he would not speake to any, nor suffer any to speake to him. The quéene and her ladies were sorrie, they had no further knowledge of the Damosels Knight, and beside they were offended at the Prince Albayzars foile, as well because his gentle behauiour was such, as for the reputation he gained when he carried away the Princes Miragardaes Shield.

The Damosels Knight was not very farre from the Citie, but the darke night drew on, and they being in a Forrest, and néere to a faire Fountaine, concluded there to rest themselues [Page] for that night: so, after they had refreshed themselues, they laid them down among the gréene leaues: the Prince himselfe, he went and lay a pretty space from the Damosels, and lay­ing his head on the roote of a Trée, the beautie of Leonarda the Princesse of Thrace, presented it self in his amorous thoughts, charging him with so many contrary Passions, as all that night he could not lay his eye lids together, yet was his loue so irresolute, as the lest thing in the world could haue made him forget all quite.

While the Prince Florian lay thus busied with a thousand imaginations, Arlencea, who was marnailously affected to­wards him, seeing her companions were all fast asleepe, went to the place where the Prince Florian was laid, where, sitting downe by his side, she began to fall into these spéeches. It séems to me (most worthie knight of the Sauage man) that the iniu­ry which I heretofore haue done you, doth as yet remain fresh in your memory, in that you make no account of her, who liueth and dieth onely for your loue. And that I speake the truth, you may be perfectly resolued, in that (without regard of mine owne honour) I come to séeke you out, the cause being this, that my intreatie might moue you pittie her, who pre­ferreth the loue of none aliue but you: which courtesie, if you shall seeme to refuse, my conceite of griefe will be so extreame, as I must needs giue entertainment to my latest enemy, who will set both soule and body in quietnesse, when you (that might haue comfort of both) remaine dease, and will make no account of me.

So breaking off, she laid her head, on the Princes breast, fet­ching so many grieuous sighes and groanes, as though the life would haue forsaken her body, whereupon the Prince tooke her in his armes, and with very amiable speeches (though not such as she gladly looked for, he began to comfort her thus.

Madame Arlencea, I do not so little esteeme of you, that I would willingly consent to doe the thing, which should seeme displeasant or offensiue to your honour, desiring you to thinke, that before I was so much bound to you as now I am, I intē ­ded to accomplish that which your sel [...]e desireth: but since the [Page] time that your great fauour, deliuered me out of the daunger whereinto Alfernao brought me, I forsooke altogether the fol­ly of so vaine a humor, being loath to reward her so vngently, whose courtesie, neither time nor death can make me forget. And thus perswade your selfe, that I haue prouided a husband for you, according as your noble bountie doth well deserue: yea, he is so good a Knight, as you will refuse to make choyse of the Knight of the Sauage man, whom you may at all times vse, as your friend and seruant.

There pausing, he kissed her hand, and brought her again to the place where the other Ladies sleyt, and he departing againe to his owne lodging, she began to be ashamed of her folly, no­ting well the wittie words of the Knight of the Sauage man: for whose loue she was so extreamely passioned, as she was cō ­strained to discouer the flame that did so torment her, to one of her Damoselles, the very same that gaue the fatall ring to the prince. To her she ripped vp her whole discourse of the words which had passed that night, desiring her earnestly, with the teares trickling down her chéekes, that she would giue her such assistance, as she might enioy the loue of the Knight of the Sa­uage man: the Damosell answered her Lady thus.

Trust me Madame, you haue not any occasion to finde your selfe agréeued, for by good reason the Knight ought not to satis­fie your will, in that such a Prince as he is, ought not to trauell himselfe for Damoselles, and then to receiue shame and disho­nour by them: but yet to content your minde, and because you thinke me willing to doe you what pleasure I can, I will goe to the knight, and vse such friendly perswasions with him, as I will vnderstand the depth of his intent. Arlencea imbraced the Damosell for this genile answere, and spake to her againe in this manner.

I know well, my swéete wench, that if I shall haue any re­medie in this case, I must enioy it by thy meanes, wherefore I pray thée goe, and fortune be with thée. But if it come so to passe, as neither perswasion, nor any thing else will mooue him to loue me, I pray thee intreate him, that he would pardon the fault I committed, in disturbing him of his quiet ease.

[Page] Madame (said the Damosell) repose yourselfe altogether on me, and so she went to the Knight of the Sauage man, whom she found in a slumber, when sitting downe by him, she began in this manner. Me thinkes that he which enforceth Ladies to liue in sorrow, because he wil vse no more regard vnto them, ought not so easily to take his rest. The Knight of the Sauage man hearing the voyce of a woman, opened his eyes, and sée­ing it was not Arlencea, but the Damosell whom he loued best amongst them all, he beganne friendly to embrace her, giuing her better words then he did to the Giantesse her Lady: wher­vpon, the Damosell beganne to him thus againe. Syr Knight, I desire that you would vouchsafe to tell me, what is the cause you make no more account of my Ladies loue, séeing she hath (for your sake) forsaken her mother, forgotten the cruell mur­dering her Brother, and likewise hath lost the libertie of her selfe?

Madame (answered the prince) I feare I shall not haue time enough to discourse the whole matter to you, because it is now vpon this point of day, wherefore I intend to set Madame Ar­lencea a part a while, and demaund of you, for what occasion you haue forgottē me, séeing I remaine yours in affection, since the day that Alfernao deliuered me into the power of your La­dy Arlencea?

I pray you Syr (said the Damosel) that you would not be of­fended at my nicenesse all this while, it was but onely to auoid the malice of my Lady: in her abscence, I pray you thinke so wel on me, as you may be pleased for my displeasing you, and I haue the better will to come to mooue my Ladies sute againe. The Knight of the Sauage man hearing her courteous answer, and that he might now breake a Launce in the face of Venus, he tooke her in his armes: but because the day came on apace, and they vnwilling that any should sée their secret pleasure, I durst not sée what they did, for feare I should be shent for my labour.

CHAP. XXIIII.
Of that which happened to the Damosels Knight, in going to the Castle of Almaroll.

VPon the point of day breaking, the Damo­sell gaue her Ladie Arlencea to vnderstand the answere of the K. of the Sauage man, & the prince séeing the Ladies walking, came and gaue them all the mornings courtesie, afterward, when they were all mounted on horseback, they beganne to set forward on their iourney: and because Arlencea was somewhat mooued with her euill Fortune that night past (which the P. perceiued very well) he came vnto her, and vsed such kinde and gentle lan­guage to her, as in a while she forgot the cares which had trou­bled her so much.

The Prince began to deuise pleasantly, with the foure Da­mosels he woonne in the Forrest, and iested with them in such merry conceites, as the iourney séemed nothing troublesome vnto them: but this pleased not Polyphemia, (who was the Damosell that Arlencea sent, to mooue her sute to the Prince) for she thought that shée deserued better countenance at his hands, then all the other.

The Knight of the Sauage man knewe well by the counte­nance of Polyphemia, that she grieued to sée him vse such pa­stime with the other Damosels wherevpon, he began to smile to himselfe, and because he would vexe her the more, he would now embrace one Damosel, and come to another and kisse her, and one after another he would be very familiar withall, and that with very much pleasure, Poliphemia séeing the dealings of the Knight of the Sauage man, went on the further side be­hind [Page] all the Damosels, dissembling (so much as she could possi­ble) the extreame afflictions of her amorous thoughts, for that the regard of her honour commaunded her to kéepe secret, what had passed betwéene the Prince and her: but hée making as though he saw her not, continued on his pleasure with the other Damosels. And when for recreations sake, they tooke delight to walke on foote a while, he would giue each of them (one after another) a greene Gowne, and iest and iybe with them so plea­santly, that poore Polyphemia knewe not well how to take it: yet hoping to haue some of them partners with her in her mis­fortune (as indéede she had) before they came to the Castle of Almaroll.

It chanced fiue dayes after their departure from the Spanish Court, that they came into a faire gréene field, which was gal­lantly decked with Natures tapistry, & there the Ladies tooke delight to stay a while, because they would make them Nose­gayes and garlands of the flowers: when they had disported themselues so long as they thought méete, they put their Gar­lands on their heads, & mounted on their horses againe, being very merry and pleasantly disposed. But to change their io­cund humor, they beheld to come from a ranke of trees, a bigge tall Knight, in manner of a Giant, mounted on a horse meete to carry such a mightie person: his Armour was all azure colour, spotted very thicke with little siluer flowers, and in his Shield he caried for his deuise, Hidra the serpent with seuen heads, in a fielde of Sinople. This big knight had two Esquiers atten­ding on him, one of them carried his Lance, & the other a battel-Axe, the knife there of being of gold: and when he was come to the place where the Knight of the Sauage man and the Damo­sels stayd, he began his language in this manner.

I aduertise thée (knight) that it is a long time since I desired to goe to the castle of Almarol, where my heart became affectio­nate to the faire Princesse Miragarda, and in such good lyking did I growe of her, as I determined to try my fortune against the Knight that kéepes her shielde, being in good hope to van­quish him, that I might afterward take both his office, and his place. But it hapned to me farre contrary to my desire, & I am [Page] perswaded, that her fauour makes him more victorious, then his owne force is able: the consideration hereof doth not a little offend me, so that I am determined to reuenge my selfe by o­ther means. Wherfore aduise thee wel of these two conditions I shall put to thée, which of them thou shalt best like of, either to enter combat with me, or to surrender these damosels which beare thée company.

My friend (answered the knight of the Sauage man) I as­sure thée, that I am not the man thou thinkest me, neither shalt thou find such a one, as is wont to be vanquished by thy hauty words: and because thou shalt not be deceiued in me, I giue thée to vnderstand, that I am not accustomed to feare such fellowes, as speake with such a glorious pride in them­selues, neither can the huge stature of a Giant dismay me, for if thou durst presume to take the worst Garland from any of these Ladies heads, I would sel thee my life, but I would make thée restore it againe.

The affection (said the knight) which thou bearest to some of these, maketh thee not to estéeme the danger wherein thou maist fall: but séeing thou wilt be so lustie, I am content, for courtesies sake, to offer thee this condition, that he which shall be dismounted of vs swaine, may haue for his paines foure of these Damoselles, as for the other foure, they shall still at­tend vppon their Lady, whom I see likewise in thy com­pany: to which wordes the Knight of the Sauage man thus replyed.

I could wish thou hadst as many Damosels in thy power, as thou séest here in name, to the end that either thou mightst win these which I conduct, or I might be the maister of thine. But except thou intendest to take these ladies from me by force, for otherwise thou shalt not haue them, I pray thée get thee going about thy businesse. I see well, said the knight, that our conten­tion cannot be ended without laying hands to our weapons, & so to try the conclusion: then he called his esquire, who brought him his Lance, which when he had couched, he ranne couragi­ously against the Damosels knight, who met him brauely in the mid way, & encountred with him so worthily, as the pe [...]ces [Page] of their lances flew whistling in the ayre, and in this encounter the knight lost both his stirrops, & meeting together with their bodies, their horses began fiercely to fight one with another, so that the strange knight was cast to the ground, and the damo­sels knight had almost borne him company, because his horse was slaine by the other knights horse. Arlencea and the Ladies did greatly feare, least the knight would ouercome the Prince Florian, who leaping from his horse, that tumbled with him on the ground, drew his sword, and stood still to heare what the knight would say: but he seeing the Damosels knight so rea­dy to the combate, began to be somwhat offended with himself for the rough stroke of the Lance, made him more to feare the knight then he did before. When he had stood a pretty space, he buckled his Shield, and drew his sword out of the sheath, comming to the Prince with these words. If thou art (Knight) so much a friend to thine owne life, as to agrée to the condition I made shée before we iousted, thou shalt sée that I will kéepe my promise to thée. I pray thee (said the Damosels knight) vse no such friuolous spéeches to me, for I am thus determined, to make thée beare me cōpany on foote, because thou seest my horse is slaine: and so without wasting any more time in words, he began to charge the Knight very fiercely, which when the Knight both saw and felt, he likewise laid on with huge and waighty strokes, till in the end he receiued so many wounds, as what with the losse of his blood, and faintnesse of his body, he was constrained to fall downe to the ground: when, the damo­sels knight set his foote on him, and taking off his helmet, made show as though he would haue smitten off his head, but the Knight yéelded himselfe to his mercy, desiring that it might please him to saue dis life: whereto the damosels knight thus answered.

I am content to giue thée thy life, on condition thou wilt ful­fill what I command thée. I know no aduenture (sayd the Knight) so perillous, which I would make any account off, for sauegard of my life. Thou shalt first then (quoth the Damo­sels Knight) tell me what and who thou art, and afterward, thou shalt take one of the Horses, whereon thy Esquires rides, [Page] and take thy way presently to the Court of the King Recinde, and there (before the Quéene) thou shalt say on my behalfe, that the Damosels knight, who Iousted in their presence against the prince Albayzar, saluteth them with his humble duty, and desireth such fauour at the kings hands, that he will thinke no ill because I made not my selfe knowne to him, but thou maist assure his Highnesse, that I will not faile to make my selfe knowne, at my returne from the Castle of the Giant Almarol. And because I may get thither the sooner, I will take thy horse, in recompence of mine which I haue lost in iousting against thée: the knight arose, and made this answere.

Worthy Sir, since Fortunes great vnkindes hath brought me iato this extremitie, I shall not faile to obey whatsoeuer you commaund me, and for my name, I am called Trofolant the Feareful, of whom you haue heard sometime, if you remem­ber. Very true (quoth the damosels knight) but I pray you not to make me knowne in any case, but declare what I haue said to you, and so you may now depart on your way to accomplish your promise.

Then the Prince mounted on Trofolants horse, & so tooke his leaue of him, setting forward on his iourney with the damosels, till he came to the end of his pleasant Valley, where he leaned himselfe against the stump of a trée, because he espied before him thrée knights very richly Armed, and one of them cryed aloude to him, that he should stay till they came to him. The Damosels knight hearing these words, would goe no further, but staied to heare what they had to say to him. When they were come née­rer, the same knight spake againe in this manner.

Sir knight, I would gladly haue one of the ladies which are in your company, wherefore, I pray you bestowe her on me, to whom you beare most affection your selfe. Trust me Sir (an­swered the Damosels knight) they doe all like me so well, as he which dare be so bolde to take one of them from me, I iudge will put his life in great daunger. My fancy (saide the second knight) doth best estéeme her that excéedeth them all in stature (meaning Arlencea.) And I will content my selfe (quoth the third knight) with her that rideth next the tall Lady (meaning [Page] Polyphemia) because me thinkes her beautie excéedeth all the other: wherefore I pray you sir knight, content your selfe with the other Ladies, and sticke not with vs for these three, for we will so well behaue our selues to them, as they shall haue no oc­casion to complaine on vs.

I perceiue then (answered the Damosels Knight) that you would gladly haue these Ladies, whom I am determined to defend against you: if any of you therefore haue such minde to them, there is but a little Riuer betweene vs, which you may easily passe, and if your Fortune be so good, you shall carry them with you when you go backe againe. With a good will (answe­red the first knight) and séeing your stomacke serues you so wel, I will shewe you the small aduantage you shall get in dealing with vs.

Vpon these wordes he passed the Riuer, and hauing placed his Launce in his rest, ran valiantly against the Damoselles knight, who entertained him with such a puissant stroake, as he was compeld to fetch an errant in the dust, being so greatly amazed with the fall, as he had not the power to stir himselfe a great while. When the other two Knights saw their fellowe foyled, they came ouer the riuer together, and being abashed at the valour of the Damosels knight, they durst not venter to try it one after another, but ranne both together against him, who (though they offered him wrong) would not refuse them: but breaking his staffe nobly vpon one of them, he [...]ent him to kéepe the first knight company, hauing his arme broken by the force of his fall. Then drew he foorth his swoord, and welcommed the third so friendly, as in a little while he tumbles downe be­fore him.

The Damosels Knight after this victorie, commaunded his Esquier to alight, & tooke off the knights helmet, that he might take aire, and when they were all before him, he commaunded them to shew obeysance to the three Damoselles, whome they would néeds haue had, before they knew the price of them and if they did not as he willed them, he sware they should all loose their liues.

The Knights perceiuing they had reckoned with a wrong [Page] Hoste, promised they would not doe any thing contrary to his will: whereuppon one of them came to Arlencea, with these words. Madame, in that you are she whom I make most ac­count of, I beséech you command me, in any thing my poore po­wer can do you seruice.

I haue so little neede (saide Arlencea) of your seruice, as it would gréeue me to vse your assistance in any thing whatsoe­uer: neuerthelesse, that you may be an example to such, who (following your qualities) commit many outragious facts to Damosels, and to encrease his renowne who hath now nobly vanquished you, and deliuered me and my company from you, I command you to go to the King of Spaines Court, and there on my behalfe, let all the Ladies vnderstand, what desert is come to you for your wretched dealing: and say, that I aduer­tise them, no one of them presume to trauaile abroad, without the company of some such knight, as is able to defend them a­gainst all vnlawfull actions.

And you Madame (said the second knight to Polyphemia) what shall it like you for to command me? Marie (quoth she) that you take the same course that your commpanion doth, not forgetting to tell the Ladies, that I pray they may liue in safe­tie, without hauing affiance in any Knight whatsoeuer: for that such as enterprise to conduct them in their trauails, whom they put in trust with their honourable loue, and euen bow their soules to them in loyall affection, yet haue they most néede to shunne their company, rather then any other, and let them not doubt of it, for if they proue they shall find my words true.

The Damosels knight vnderstood well enough, the couert speeches of Polyphemia, but yet he dissembled, as though he knew not what they meant.

And you Lady, said the third knight, will you be so cruell, as to commit a greater taske to me, then these two Ladies before you haue done to my companion? I am (quoth she) so cruell, as I would haue thée banished the company of thy very dearest friends: then the Damoselles Knight himselfe began thus to them againe.

[Page] Since it is the will of these thrée Ladies, that you shall carry these messages of the King of Spaines Court. I pray you tell the Ladies there, that I desire them to repose their trust in me, if they shall imagine themselues in any danger, and let them be well assured, that I will aduenture what hazard soeuer, if my helpe may yéeld them any assistance: notwithstanding, one of these thrée Ladies is desirous to haue them thinke the contrary but as for her counsell, I desire them humbly to make no ac­count thereof. And because I may know who you are, I pray you tell me your names before you depart, for that I may de­mand another day, whether you haue fulfilled your promises or no. My Lord (quoth the first Knight) we are all thrée of the same Court whereto you send vs, by meanes whereof, we grieue more to go shew our misfortunes there, then in any court whatsoeuer it might like you to send vs. And for our names, you shall vnderstand, that I am called Grouanell, and this other knight is my brother named Brabosan, we twaine being the sonnes of the Countie Loban, and the third knight (who is our Couzin) he is called Claribard, a knight greatly renowmed in the Court of Spaine.

Truely Gentlemen (said the Damosels knight) you ought not to thrust your selues into such dishonourable actions: ne­uerthelesse, I must excuse you, for that the beautie of women, hath sometime inueigled the wisest heads, but I would wish you to be better aduised albeit I my selfe do often féele the heat of the same fire. So ending, he rode on with his charge of La­dies, being very glad that he had sped so well of these knights in their presence, and they likewise commended his high good fortune.

CHAP. XXV.
How Trofolant and these other three Knights yeelded them­selues in the Spanish Court. And how the damosels knight arriued at the Castle of the Giant Almaroll.

IT was long before the Damoseis Knight could reach to the Castle of the Giant Al­maroll, because he was hindered in his way by many knights, who ventured themselues to take the Damosels from him, which he had taken charge of, in con­ducting them. But it chanced as the King Recinde stood pleasantly talking in his window with the Quéene, and many Knights in the Chamber with him beside, he beheld to enter a goodly tall Knight, his face being couered with his Helmet, his armour broken in many places, and so besprent with blood, as the fine deuises thereon could hardly be discerned. His shéeld which was carryed after him by his e­squire, was shiuered in the selfe same manner, and because his deuise therein could not well be séene, euery one was in great admiration of him: but he went with such proud iestures, as he made estimation of neuer a knight there (who came to enter­taine him at the Pallace gate) but passed on till he came into y Chamber where the King was, to whom when he had made obeysance, he returned to the Quéene with these words.

Madame, I haue Combatted with a Knight, who not long since was in this Court, and Iousted against the Prince Al­bayzar, he hath in his company nine Damosels, and I desi­red him to bestow the one halfe of them on me, whereto he would by no meanes consent, but made me answer, that he could wish I had as many Ladies in conduct as he had, for then [Page] would he take mine from me, beare his Ladyes company in trauaile. Vpon this proude answer, I intended to take them from him perforce, which he would not suffer, but made such resistance against me, as in the end I was not onely con­quer [...]d, but in great danger to loose my life, had not this vali­ant and redoubted knight granted me mercy, vpon condition I should performe what he did command me. But such was his great humanitie, as he would adioyne me no other pu­nishment then this, that I should come and present my selfe to your maiestie, to craue pardon (on his behalfe) that he would not let himselfe to be knowne when he was in your court, but at his returne, he will not faile to come in better acquaintance with your highnesse: in the meane while, he craueth that you would pardon him for his offence past.

I know not (said the king) how I should remit this iniury, in that he hid himself from me, who most of all desired to know him, and more earnest I am now, séeing your Armour so much defaced. My good Lord (answered the Quéene) I desire you would not be offended at that which is past, for I cannot thinke that such a Knight as he is, would desire to passe vn­knowne to your grace, without he were compelled so to do by some earnest occasion.

Then said the King to the knight, I pray you Sir tell me who you are? Those that know me (said the Knight) call me Trofalont the Fearefull. I haue (answered the King) often­times heard much talke of you, and the Knightly déedes which you haue atchieued: and for this cause would I the more glad­ly haue knowledge of the Damoselles Knight, wherefore I pray you tell me if you know him, or can iudge of whence hee should be?

My Lord said Trofolant, I promise you I neuer saw him in all my life till now, but I iudge him to be one of the sonnes of the Prince Don Edward, for I am perswaded that no one Knight else could haue conquered me, whereof I am not a lit­tle ashamed, yea, and so much gréeued thereat, as I take my leaue of your highnesse, now that I haue discharged his com­mandement.

[Page] Quoth the Quéene, I giue you licence to depart at your own leisure. And I would no other thing with you, saide the King, but that you would take a better Armour at my handes, be­cause your own is not in case to doe you seruice: beside, I would not that any of the Knights which serue the Emperour should depart my court destitute of horse or Armour.

My Lord, answered Trofolant, I thinke my selfe highly bound to your maiestie, for the Princely offer you haue made me: but I am determined to goe euen as you sée me, because I will deride Fortune to her face, and so he departed. The King gaue the Queene to vnderstand, that Trofolant was reputed as good a Knight as any other: but he would not beléeue, that any of the Sonnes of the Prince Don Edward would come into his Court, and depart againe without his know­ledge.

While the King was commending the valour of the Da­moselles Knight, Grouanell, Brabosan, and Claribard entred into the Chamber, who hauing made reuerence to the King and the Quéene, came and presented themselues before the Ladies: to whom they rehearsed their great misfortune, and that which the Damoselles Knight and Poliphemia had com­manded them.

The Ladies knew well that Poliphemia had receiued some iniury by the knight, whose noblenes made the king to speake thus. Gentlemen, I promise you I greatly desire to know the knight who hath thus vanquished you, and I intend to send some of my knights after him, that they may bring him hither once more.

If it shall like your highnesse (answered one of the Knights) he, whose good fortune serued him to ouercome vs, your grace must well thinke, that it will be hard to bring him hither, ex­cept he list himselfe.

Trust me (said the King) it makes me maruell very much, that he is accompanied with so many Damosels, in that one Knight cannot long endure to be patient, being in the conuer­sation of but one woman.

With these wordes the King departed from them, and the [Page] knightes withdrew themselues into their chambers, being not offended that the Damosels knight had vanquished them, be­cause he had showne such incredible prowesse in that Court, a­gainst the Prince Albayzar.

But returne we to the Damoselles knight, who made such expedition in his iourney, as he came néere to the Castle of the Giant Almaroll, wherefore he stayed a while by the Riuer Thesin, speaking to the Damoselles in this manner. We are now arriued at the place (faire Ladies) where it is conueni­ent to display the force of your beautie, in fauouring him that will enterprise the Combatte on your behalfe, for I assure you, the picture of the Princesse Miragarda is here at the Ca­stle, which is of such excellency, as the knight who hath the kéeping thereof, cannot (as yet) be vanquished, the cause is (as I iudge) rather by the singularitie of this faire Princesse, then the force or valour that is in the knight, against whom I intend to try my selfe. Wherefore I pray you (faire Ladies) to seperate your selues asunder, and bethinke your selues vn­der whose name I shall enter the Combate, and be you all pre­sent by, for I know I shall purchase some aduantage by your company.

Poliphemia (who had the greatest opinion of beauty in her selfe amongst them all) spake to the Prince in this order. I know very wel (Sir knight) that the victory which they gaine, that enter the Combate for the Princesse Miragarda, procée­deth of their force and loyall friendship, which truely is very far off from you: wherfore, if Fortune chance to forsake you in the Combate, she doth no more then you deserue, séeing the great inconstancy of you towards them, on whose behalfe you séeme to enter the Combate.

The other Damoselles were somewhat abashed, hearing Poliphemia spake so plainely, wherevpon the Prince Florian returned her this answere. I perceiue Lady, that you are very iniurious towards me, without any great occasion, and you offer truly great discourtesie, to conceiue so bad an opinion of me: wherefore, to put you out of such an ill suspition, I am de­termined [Page] to enter the Combate, vnder the fauor of your beau­tie, when you shall well perceiue, that you were in a very con­trary iudgement.

So riding on, they came at last to the Castle, at what time Miragarda and her Ladies came forth, to recreate her selfe vpon the water, being accompanied with the Giant Almoral. The Damosels knight no sooner beheld the beautie of th [...] faire Princesse, but his heart was presently depriued of libertie: yet had he a good qualitie, for the passions that tormented him by the beautie of Ladies, was of no longer continuance then while they were before him.

After that Miragarda was gone a pretty distance off, he said to the Damosels: What say you to the beautie of this gallant Princesse? We say (answered Poliphemia) that you should not dismay your selfe any iote: in that each of vs conceiueth this opinion of our selues, that we may equall her in beautie. Mira­garda was no sooner returned againe, but shee sate downe a while at the Castle gate, greatly delighting her selfe to behold so faire a company.

Florendos (who was not farre off) being Armed for all as­sailes, was somewhat moued, séeing her that made him liue in continuall langout: and the Giant Almorall beholding him, beside, knowing well that Miragarda did greatly delight, to sée him Combat with strange Knights, called to him with these words. Sir Florendos, doe that which your dutie comman­deth you, for the Princesse Miragarda stayes onely to behold you.

Florendos taking good view of the Damosels, and séeing the Knight prepare himselfe to the ioust, he presently moun­ted on his horse backe, and comming to the Knight, he began in this manner to salute him, I pray you Sir Knight to tell me, vpon what occasion you are come hither? if so be you are com­pelled to bring these Damosels to this place as your pennance, and would be gladly deliuered of them, peraduenture I may fortune to do you such a pleasure.

I promise you Sir Florendos (answered the Damoselles Knight) I came not hither to enterprise to take the guard from [Page] you, whereof you make so great estimation: but onely to see, if these Ladies did repose any trust in the prowesse of him, who hath conducted them thorow many countries.

I cannot tell (said Florendos) what answer I should make him, that hath so good knowledge of me, neuerthelesse, I would desire you breake a couple of Lances with me, that we may giue a little pleasure to the Princesse Miragarda. And if it so fall out, that the ioust be more hindrance to the one then to the other, it shall be lawfull for him to enter the combat: the Da­mosels knight answered thus.

Sir Florendos, I would be loth to Combat against you, al­though I dare be so bold to iust a little, as well to satisfie your desire, to the Princesse Miragarda, as to delight these Damo­sels that beare me company: for whose sakes, I will likewise breake two Lances with Sir Almaroll himselfe, and force not greatly to enter the Combate with him afterward. I know very well (said Florendos) that the assurance you haue in your owne deeds, makes you vse such hardy language: Therefore I agree to whatsoeuer you iudge reasonable, and you may assure your self, that Almaroll will not faile to accomplish your own desire.

CHAP. XXVI.
Of the Iousts which were enterprised betweene the Damo­sels Knight, and he that kept the Shield of the Princesse Miragarda: And of the Combate which the Damoselles Knight had with the Giant Almaroll.

WHile these knights were preparing them­selues to the ioust, Almaroll steppee be­tweene them, desiting them to stay a little, till the Princesse Miragarda (who was beneath on the ground) might goe vp into the Castle, and take her place at the window. The Knights (who were readie [Page] to Ioust (set their staues to the ground, and staied till the Prin­cesse Miragarda was come to the window, Florendos contem­plated her face a while, and hauing taken his leaue on her, gaue his horse the spurres against the Damosels Knight: who met him in the middest of the Carrire, with such great force, as the trunchions of their lances flew vp into the aire, and they passed on nothing shaken at all. Then their Esquiers brought them new Lances, wherewith they ran together againe couragious­ly, and burst their staues as nobly as they did before, wherevp­on they prepared for the third triall.

Florendos was somewhat agrieued, hauing felt the prowesse of his aduersarie, and feared least any misfortune should hap­pen to him, in the presence of his Lady. And the Damoselles Knight was in great doubt whether it was Florendos or no, beside, he was somwhat offended that he had begun the Ioust, perceiuing well the minde of the Prince his couzin, if Fortune should discountenance him in the presence of his beautifull Mistres: which to preuent, he came to him with these wordes. Me thinkes it were necessary, Sir Florendos, that you and I should content our selues, séeing that neither of vs can boast of the aduantage of the Ioust, beside, you cānot purchase any great renowne, in conquering one of your affectionate seruants, who verily would be sorie, that you should receiue any misfortune at his hands, in that it might hinder you in place of most hope. Wherefore, I pray you giue me leaue, to breake two or three Launces with Sir Almaroll, which will yéelde some content­ment to these Ladies that beare me company.

Florendos returned him this answere, I perceiue, sir knight, you haue so little desire to deals with me, as you feare nothing that may happen to you, you witnes so well your knightly be­hauiour, wherefore I pray you do not forsake me in this order, before you tell me of whence and what you are. To tell you my name, saide the Damosels Knight, and afterward to Ioust a­gainst you, is much against my will, so that I cannot resolue my selfe, vpon which of these two points I should rest: neuer­thelesse, because I would gladly content you, I am well plea­sed to venture againe with you.

[Page] Then these two Princes ranne together with such force, as they burst their staues to their hands, wherevpon, their horses hurt each other so cruelly, as both they and their Maisters fell to the ground: the Damosels Knight hauing the shoulder of his horse broken, but Florendos his horse was slaine outright, which did so greatly vexe him, as he drew foorth his sword, be­ing very willing to enter the Combate, which the Damo­sels Knight perceiuing, hée stayed him with this friendly lan­guage.

Sir Knight, I would gladly intreate you to forbeare so much resistance against your friend, who desireth (in any thing he may to doe you seruice, I beare so much good will vn­to you, and loath I am to enter the Combate with you, not for any feare I haue of your valor, but because the duty of frien­ship forbiddeth mée such vngentlenesse. And this perswade your selfe, that I am of no lesse courage then your selfe, and could make as good assurance of the victorie, but that it would grieue me to sée you iniured: wherefore, that no discourtesie may happen on either side, I pray you sheath your Swoord againe, and reserue the triall therewith, till such a one come, as shall séeke you with a more mallicious intent, then I doe.

The Princesse Miragarda, who had heard the whole dis­course that passed the Damosels Knight, could haue béene con­tent (for the boldnesse she saw in him) to sée the Combate tried betwéene them: then Florendos spake to him againe in this manner. I can very hardly content my selfe (sir knight) with­out I might sée the one of vs dismounted, or else that you would tell me who yoe are: to which words Artesia (one of the Da­mosels) made this answere.

I will tell ye Sir Knight, this order was he woont to vse with such knights, as he knewe to be lesse gouerned by discre­tion then himselfe, with them would he neuer ende the fight, making his excuse by vs, as your selfe may behold at this time: for séeing the Princesse Miragarda doth not fauour him, he is content to knit vp thus, without passing any further triall, thinking vs vnworthy of his good will.

[Page] Truly my friend (answered Poliphemia) you haue saide that which is most certaine, and I belieue our knight is of the same opinion himselfe: Florian smiling, made him this answere. I see very well now (faire Ladies) that the paines I haue taken in conducting you, is made of no account at all: neuerthelesse, I haue this aduantage, that your entising words want power to deceiue me, for I am, and will be maister of my selfe.

These wordes albeit he spake them somewhat softly, yet the Princesse Miragarda did well vnderstande them, by reason whereof, she tooke him presently to be one of slender fidelitie: but she iudged Florendos to be one at libertie, and that loue had no power ouer him. But he himselfe desired not to liue in such libertie, if he could haue compassed any remedy for so great a torment, as the beautie of his faire Mistresse enforced him to endure.

And now to returne to Florendos he could not be so wel per­swaded by the Damosels Knight, but that he desired to enter the Combate with him, which the giant Almaroll perceiuing, he caused to be brought foorth a goodly bay Courser, and sent it to the Damosels knight, with this request. That he would put himselfe in a readinesse, to the ende they two might trie them­selues together, which would giue some delight to the princesse Miragarda: and because she should haue the better will to the Combate, he was content some reward should be ordained, in requitall of his paines that remained the conquerour: vppon which motion the Damosels knight made this reply.

Looke (Sir Almaroll) what it shall please you to appoint, you shall not finde me contrary thereto. If so be then (quoth Alma­roll) that the victory happen on your side, I pray you to giue me (as my reward) this Lady named Arlence [...], whom I will not faile to estéeme as chiefe mistresse of my affection: and if it come to passe that Fortune make her choyse of you, you shall receiue for your recompence, the horse wheron you are mounted, which I warrant will be as good as any in the world.

Trust me (said the Damosels Knight) I haue already de­termined with my selfe, to bestow her vpon such a Knight as I make good account of: yet will I accept this horse, if so be the [Page] victorie fall on my side: and if it come to passe that I am van­quished, if the Lady her selfe can finde in her heart to satisfie your request, you shall not finde me to hinder it any thing. I am content (answered Almaroll) hearing you speake so rea­sonably, for I presume, that she will not refuse the knight who is so willing to doe her seruice.

So (without any more words) they placed their Lances in their restes, and being couered with their Shieldes, gaue their horses the Spurs, and encountred together so brauely, as the Damosels Knight forsooke both his Stirrops, but Almaroll was cast to the ground with his Sable betwéene his legs, who was not a little offended to haue such a disgrace, especially in the presence of his new chosen friend.

The Damoselles commended greatly this gallant begin­ning, but chiefely they whom Florian woon from the Knightes that kept the Valley. Almaroll hauing recouered his feete, drew foorth his sword, and came marching towards the Damosels Knight, who presently alighted, left the Giant should offer any harme to his horse: and then they charged one another with such cruell strokes, as moued great admiration to all there pre­sent. And the more couragious was the prince Florian, as well to delight the Damosels, as to declare his noblenesse in fight to the Prince Florendos, not forgetting withall, that Miragar­da should well perceiue, he stood in no feare of her knight, by re­fusing the Combate.

On the other side, Almarol behaued himselfe very gallantly, for the desire he had to gaine Arlencea, and such was the regard of her loue with him, as in all his life he neuer fought more brauely.

These two champions continued such notable courage, as in short time their armour was broken in many places, and their bodies so grieuously wounded, that the blood ranne from them very pitifully: but Almaroll (being not so nimble and quicke as his aduersarie) was brought into the greatest danger, by meanes whereof, he was glad to breake square a little, to take breathing.

But the damosels knight would not to suffer him, for he fol­lowed [Page] his intent so fast vpon him, as he was constrained to fall to the earth, séeming rather to be dead then aliue: the sight whereof did gréeue the Prince Florendos out of measure, and was so much offensiue to the Princesse Miragarda, as she de­parted from the window, commanding that Almaroll should be brought into the Castle, which was presently done, and Flo­rendos went with him into his Chamber, to sée some prouision might be made for his wounds, which in sooth were very dan­gerous.

Then was the Damosels knight brought somewhat aside, where the damosels vnarmed him to dresse his wounds, which were not in any great danger, whereupon he caused himselfe to be armed againe, and mounted on horsebacke, intending to de­part thence. But as he was about to set forward on the way, two Knights of some strange countrey) arriued at the Castle, who came desirous to try the aduenture. One of these knights was in Carnation colloured Armour, very thicke beset with Griffins of siluer, and in his sheeld was figured a white Hart, in a field of Sinople: the other knight was in blacke armour, and bearing in his shield the same deuise his fellow had.

These two Knights no sooner beheld the Damosels knight, but he in the carnation Armour spake thus to his Companion. It seemeth to me Sir, that we are come vnto the place, where we shall haue no accasion to vse our armor, if he which kéepeth the shield of Miragarda, be not in case to endure the Combate: this knight should séeme to be he, wherfore, because it shall not be sayd, we came hither in vaine, I will goe disburden him of one of his Ladyes, she will be as méete for my company, as for his.

Certainely (answered the other knight) I cannot content my selfe with things of so base estimation, hauing before mine eyes the Shield, wherein is pictured the beautie of the faire Princesse, the regard whereof, maketh me account nothing more worthy. At these words, his companion cast his eyes on the Image of Miragarda, which hung in the seemeliest place of the Pillar, whereuppon he entred into these spée­ches.

[Page] I sée now (my good friend) that they which haue aduentured to this place, haue not bestowed their labour in vaine: for more willingly would I loose my life for her, whose heauenly visage this Shield represents, then to content my selfe with hope of any further glory. I assure you (sayd the first knight) I intend not to depart from this place, without I carry this Shield with me: yet would I (if it were possible) first make tryall of my worthinesse, against him that durst deny me to take it hence. So, aduancing himself to the trée where the Shields were pla­ced, he offered to take downe the Shield.

The Damosels knight perceiuing his intent, and knowing that Florendos was busie about the hurts of the Giant Alma­roll, he would not suffer that in his presence any one should of­fer so great wrong to the Prince Florendos: wherefore in re­gard of the good will he bare him, he broched his horse with the spurs, and when he came to the place where the Shield of Mi­ragarda hanged, he looke the knight [...]y the arme, and puld him backward with so great strength, as he [...]ell beside his Horse headlong to the ground, and withall spake to him in this man­ner. I may well perswade my selfe (sir knight) that you desire not to trie your fortune in this aduenture, being so forgetfull of your honour, as to procéede so cowardly, not attending the presence of him, who hath the authoritie to defend this Shield: in his absence therefore, I will trie if you be such a gentle com­panion as dare presume to carry it hence by your manhood.

Miragarda (who was come againe to the window, to take better aduise of the Damosels knight) vnderstanding the braue words he had giuen the knight, did greatly content her selfe in his presenc [...], in that he tooke vpon him so worthily to defend her shéeld, against the knight that offered to take it away: who, when he had gotten himselfe on foote againe, he dr [...]w forth his sword, and in a phrenzie or a madnesse, (as it were) he came to assault the Damosels knight, which his companion perceiuing he came betwéene them with these words.

I pray you Sir to amount vpon your horse, and in the mean time, I will trie if the valour of this knight, may answer the proude attempt he made to you. Vpon this, he adua [...]ted [Page] himselfe against the Damoselles Knight, who for the great de­sire he had, to witnesse his courage to the princesse Miragarda, prepared himselfe brauely to méete his aduersarie, which hée discharged so nobly (hauing his full desire at him) as neither his shielde, armour, nor maile-coat could defend the push of the Lance, but it passed cleane thorow his body, so that the strange knight tumbled beside his horse to the ground, being altogether depriued of his life.

When the Damosels Knight had gotten his Launce out of the Knights body, he praunced till he came vnder the window where the Princesse Miragarda stood, expecting the comming of the other Knight, who méeting him in the middest of the course, brake his Launce on the Prince: but when they came together, the Damoselles Knight caught hold on his enemies Shielde, which hée pulde from him with so great force, as he brought his head on the necke of his horse, where (not permit­ting him the leisure to recouer himselfe) he gaue him with his owne Shield such a cruell stroke on the Crest of his Helmet, as the knight was so giddy therewith, he could hardly tell how to recouer himselfe. In the meane while the knight was thus amazed, the prince tooke off his helmet, and gaue him such ano­ther heauie stroke, as hee fell beside his Horse, foming forth blood out of his mouth aboundantly.

Florendos (being in the Chamber with the Giant Alma­roll) was greatly abashed, séeing a combate fought at his La­dies Shield in his absence: wherefore, fearing least any dis­pleasure should come thereby to him, he forsooke all other occa­sions, and went presently thither, where (hauing well viewed the two Knights) he receiued no small admiration at this ad­uenture, which when the Damosels knight perceiued, he spake to him in this order.

Sir Florendos, sée here the deedes wherein I haue imployed my selfe, onely because I would doe you seruice, I am as yet ignorant (answered Florendos) wherein I shall thinke my selfe beholding to you, for I sée two Knights here brought in­to very badde estates, yet I knowe not vpon what occasion. You shall Sir Florendos (saide the Damoselles knight) be re­solued [Page] hereof. This knight which you sée here slaine, wold haue caried away the shield of the princesse Miragarda, and he which is yet liuing (but in very slender abilitie) was the fauourer and aider of the others attempt: but I haue giuen them to vnder­stand, that a thing of so high estimation, might not be woonne without some labour.

Thus in regard of the offence they were about to offer you, and to witnesse the good will I vnfeinedly beare you, I tooke vpon me to hinder them in such a disloyall enterprise, for proofe of my words, you may behold whether they be true or no.

I pray you Sir (quoth Florendos) tell me who you are for I desire to know the name of him, whose prowesse hath so déeply indebted me to him? Sir (Florendos answered the Damosels Knight) I will satisfie you, because I sée you are so desirous: wherefore I aduertise you, that I am Florian of the Forrest, your Couzin and obedient seruice, who will not suffer you to receiue iniurie, in any place where he shall be present: Floren­dos in great ioy replied thus.

Now is my minde (which hath béene troubled a good while) very well eased, in both knowing and séeing the prowesse that is in you: wherefore I humbly desire you to thinke so well of me, that you would spend a litle time here with me, that I may commune with you about matters of some importance. Beside you shall cause the wounds of the Giant Almaroll to be the soo­ner healed, in that he will not grieue so much, hauing receiued the foile at so noble a knights hands.

I doe not thinke (answered the Damosels Knight) that you would wish me to tarrie here, in that I haue promised to visit other places, which if I should faile to doe, I should gaine the ill reports of a number: wherefore I desire you suffer me de­part hence, and that you would take the oath of this last knight which I conquered, that he shall make you faithfull promise (after you haue knowledge of his name) to trauell to the court of the King Recinde, where he shall declare to the Quéene for what occasion I did combate with his fellow and himselfe, and I desire you againe, not to receiue any ill opinion by my sudden departure.

[Page] Florendos laboured to disswade him from his iourney, but he would by no meanes be mooued from his determination: wherefore, after a friendly embracing, he set forward on his way, accompanyed with the Damosels, who held him in grea­ter reputation then they had done before: but he began to waxe contrary to them, in that he estéemed of them euery day worse then other.

CHAP. XXVII.
Of that which happened to the Damosels Knight, as he re­turned to the Court of Recinde, King of Spaine.

EArly on the next morning, the Damosels knight set forward in his iourney to the Court of the King Recinde, intending when he came thither, to discharge himselfe of some of the Damosels, because he would haue none in his company but Arlencea, and the Gentlewoman that attended on her, to do her seruice: being loath to forsake her, tiil he had brought her to the place, where she might be marryed, according as her honest behauiour deserued, and to the end she should not thinke him to be vnmindfull of her.

As he rode on thus musing with himselfe, he heard the voyce of a Woman crying very pittifully, in a Wood, which was hard by the way: and because the cry was so lamenta­ble, he gaue his Horse the Spurres, and ridde till he came where he heard the noyse. He then looking a side, beheld [Page] on the banke of a goodly Riuer, a knight, whose armour was of Azure colour, very richly wrought all ouer with little fillets of Gold, in his shield was pictured a golden Lion, in a Siluer field, and at his feete he held a Damosell by the haire of the head, whose beautie deserued not such despightfull vsage, as the Knight shewed to her, for he held his Sword drawne in his hand, and made show to cut off her head, if she refused to obey his lust.

Not farre of, he espyed another knight tumbling among the greene leaues, who laughed at this pittifull sight so heartily, that he was ready to fall in a sowne, beholding what hard shift the Damosell made to helpe her selfe: and after he had laughed a good while, he spake these words. It doth me good to sée that fortune enforceth you to take such great pains, for by this meanes I shall be eased of such busie labour, when I come to take my pleasure on the Damosell.

The Damosels Knight perceiuing the shame which these knights endeuoured to offer to the Damosell, he cryed to them aloude, that they should forbeare their villany, or else he would cause them to buy their pleasure dearely. The Knight which had the Damosell by the haire of the head, séeing the Knight that spake so boldly to him, returned him presently this an­swer. Are you offended Sir, to sée me vse the Damosell in this manner? Trust me, were not the water so broad which is be­twéene you and me, I would quickly make you know the price of your boldnesse. Nouerthelesse, if thou darest tary long, I will not faile but come to thée, when thou shalt well vnderstand, that thou méetest with such a knight, as will soone allay thy brauery. I pray you my companion (sayd the other knight that lay by) doe not offend your selfe with fretting, or raging, for I iudge it best that we go to this Knight, who hath so many Da­mosels in his company, where we may take our choyce, and that without trouble.

I desire you my friends (answered the Damosels Knight) that you would tell me where the ford for passage is, to the end I may make triall of your valours. If you haue so great desire to come to vs (said the first knight) you must swim ouer, for I [Page] know no other way for you. Then began he againe to pull and hale the Damosell very cruelly, because he would mooue the Damosels knight to more anger: who being earnest in re­uenging great shame and villany, and making no account of the danger in passage, he alighted from his horse and lept in­to the riuer, which he passed very well, and recouering the fur­der side, the knight that lay among the gréene leaues said to his companion. Doe not trouble your selfe from your determina­tion, for I will quickly quaile the lustinesse of this Knight: whereto the Prince thus answered. It is hard for me to say how things may come to passe, but I intend to hinder the plea­sure you make such account of.

So, without any more words, he setled himselfe close to the knight, and gaue him such friendly entertainment, as he tum­bled to the ground, with his left arme broken in shiuers. The other knight séeing the misfortune of his fellow, left the Da­mosell to defend himselfe from the waightie strokes of the Da­mosels Knight: who handled him in such sort, as he was con­strained to craue aid at her hands, whom he sought to haue a­bused, with these word. I beséech you faire Damosell, to for­get the iniury I haue done you, and intreate this knight to saue my life. The Damosels knight held his hand and would not strike, because he expected what the Damosell would say: then she (beholding the amiable countenance of him that would haue forced her) was supprised with exceeding gréefe, so that she pittied more to sée him so neare his death, then she required re­uenge for his dishonest enterprise: whereupon she spake to the Damosels knight in this manner.

Let me intreate you (my Lord) to saue the life of this wic­ked man, it may be, hereafter he will be warned from falling in the like offence. I promise you faire Damosell (sayd Flo­rian) you cannot command me the thing that I would not willingly consent vnto, but because the knight hath deserued greater punishment, then as yet he hath suffered, I giue him his life vpon this condition: that he shall take his compa­nion with him in the best manner he can deuise, and they both shall trauaile to the King of Spaines Court, where they shall [Page] declare to the Ladies, what shame they would haue offered you, and they shall promise neuer to weare armour againe, without it be their pleasures to suffer them.

The Knights promised in all respects to accomplish his will: whereupon, their Esquires prouided a knighly Béere, whereon the Knight was layd, that had his arme broken, and so he was carryed with his companion to the court of the king Recinde.

The Damosels knight walked along by the Riuers side, holding the Damosell by the hand, who by reason of her exrée­ding seare, had forgotten her Esquire, whom the knights that would haue rauished her, had bound fast to a trée, and they had put a gagge of wood in his mouth, because they would not bee preuented of their purpose by his crying.

But it was not long before the Damosell embraced him, when she desired the Prince that he would returne againe, to deliuer the Esquire out of this miserable vexation: and when they came to him, there they found their two Palfrayes, vpon on of them, the Prince caused the Esquire to mount, com­maunding him to ride along the Riuers side, till he could finde some place to get ouer on the other side, to bring him his horse.

In the meane while, the Esquire went about that he was comanded, the Prince vnarmed himselfe, to drie his gar­ments, which were full of water, and then he questioned with the Damosell, how she happened into that place, and vppon what occasion the Knights so sought to distdnest her: to which words she made this answer,

You shall vnderstand (sir Knight) that I was borne in this Countrey, and do belong to the Princesse Miragarda, I know not whether you haue heard of her before or no. Yes in­déede haue I (said the Prince) for the name of the Ladie is so much renowmed through the whole world, as many Knights (by meanes of her beautie) haue wrought themselues much di­shonour.

So it is then (said the Damosell) that I tooke occasion to tra­uaile [Page] a little the Countrey, but Fortune was so vnhappie to me, as I chaunced to méete with these two Knights, who de­maunded of me, into what place my iourney lay: I then mis­doubting no harme, because their behauiour seemed very ho­nest to me, declared vnto them the whole state of my iourney, whereupon, one of these Knights spake thus vnto his compa­nion.

I thinke it good, in reuenge of the shame we haue receiued at the Castle of the Giant Almaroll, that we should ease ou [...] anger on this Damosell, who is one of them attendant on the Princesse Miragarda: in respect that her beautie will render vs sufficient pleasure, to forget the foyle we tooke at the push of the Launce.

The other Knight being equall with his fellow in this vn­gracious intent, did presently allow of the others iudgement: So they cast lots which of them should abuse me first, and it fortuned to fall on him, whom you saw pulling me so cruelly by the haire of the head. Then because my Esquire (grieuing to sée me so ill intreated) cryed aldude that some might come succour me, they dealt with him so discourteously as you haue séene: and had it not béene for your gratious assistaunce, God knowes the sorrow that I poore soule should haue endu­red.

Truely Madame, (answered the Prince) I reioyce that it was my chanc [...] to be your reskewe, yet had it béene better for me not to haue come hither at all, such a secret wound haue I receiued by your singular beautie: but if you consider my good deserts, and withall the readinesse you shall finde in mée to your welfare, I iudge you may bestow that on me by gentle­nesse, which the vncourteous Knights would haue taken from you perforce.

The Damosell noting his words, regarding his swéet coun­tenance, remembring his noble behauiour and Princely courtesie, made him aunswere, but I knewe not how: if it were incident to his purpose, hee is best able to to answere it, if not, then there was no harme [...]. A newe [...] [Page] willeth me to let them alone, and hearken to the Damoselles Esquire, who being returned, cried to the prince, that he should presently mount on his horse, to giue assistance to the other Da­mosels, who a Knight in blacke Armour sought to leade away perforce.

The Prince hearing the words of the Esquire, was incen­sed with such a sudden fury, as not tarrying till he was all ar­med, he ranne to the riuer, and did swimme ouer in very great hast, willing the Damosell to come after him, and passe ouer the Foord, which the Esquire could shew her, and bring her like­wise into the company of the other Damosels. So soone as Flo­rian had passed the riuer, he perceiued Poliphemia come riding towards him, crying and tearing her haire very pittifully, that he should make hast to succour her mistresse: which he being ve­ry desirous to doe, was glad to follow after her on foote, because the knight that carried her away, had grieuously wounded the legges of his horse.

But Fortune so much fauoured Arlencea, as she spied the Damosels Knight comming, who ouer-tooke them before they had gotten halfe a miles distance from the riuer: and then hée perceiued how the knight had set vp Arlencea behinde him, and his Esquire could very hardly cause her to sit still on the horse, she stroue so often to get the ground, wherfore he rid by, to hold her on the horse.

The Damosels knight, séeing the knight in blacke Armour had clapt his Helmet on his head, and would haue dismoun­ted to defend himselfe, he aduanced himselfe towards him, and Arlencea held him fast on his horse, till the Damoselles knight had stroken him such a blow betwéene the necke and the shoul­ders, as he fell to the ground like a dead man: and taking off his helmet, he would haue parted his head from his shoulders, but yet he pacified his furie, because he would send him likewise to the Ladies in the Spanish Court.

Then he caused the Esquire to be vnarmed, who held Ar­lencea on the horse behinde his Maister, but he wept very bit­terly, desiring the Prince to haue compassion on him: and comming againe to the knight (who was all this while on his [Page] knées) he commanded him to declare what was his name. I am called Rocamor (sayd the knight) a friend to those two Knights which you did lately vanquish, and in reuengement of their iniurie, I intended to carry away this Lady.

Well then (quoth the Damosels knight) this is my will, that you faile not to accomplish the charge I shall commit to you, for if you do, I sweare you shall presently loose your life: the Knight answered thus. Good Sir, to the end I may escape so great danger, I vow my selfe obedient to whatsouer you command me.

I will then (sayd the Damosels knight) that you present­ly take your way to the king of Spaines Court, and there pre­sent your selfe to the Ladies attendant on the Quéene, repor­ting to them what hath passed betweene you and me, beside you shall neuer while you liue beare armes againe, without it shall please them to licence you. The like charge I haue giuen thy two companions, and they haue promised me they will fulfill it.

I beséech you Sir (answered the knight) to tell me who you are, to the end I may declare his name, that command me thus to submit my selfe in the King of Spaines Court. You shall say (quoth the Prince) that the Damosels knight enioy­ned you this pennance, and I will so bold as to borrow your Horse, because you haue dealt so discourteously with mine. So causing Arlencea to mount on horsebacke, he left the knight, and returned to the place where the other Damosell stayd his comming: by the way he conferred with Arlencea, how disho­nourably the knights of that Countrey, behaued themselues to wandring Damosels.

And when he was come to the rest of his company, he saw amongst them Siluiana (which was the name of her whom the Knights would haue rauished) to her he af [...]oorded a gentle wel­come, and the Damosels were not a little glad, at the returne of their Lady Arlencea, whom they feared they should neuer haue séene againe.

The night drew on a pace, and there thiy concluded to passe that night, because they knew of no other prouision neare at [Page] hand, euery one tooke a modicum of their small refection, and afterward they layde them downe to their rest: but Siluiana could no suffer any sléepe to enter her eyes, such was her good opinion of the Prince, and so farre in loue was she with him, as she rather tooke delight to discourse al the night thereon, then to entertaine such quiet rest as her fellowes did.

CHAP. XXVIII.
What the Princes Florendos did to the vanquished knight and how those knights whom the Prince Florian had cō ­quered, arriued at the King of Spains Court.

AFter that she Damosels knight was de­parted from the Castle of the Giant Alma­roll, the Prince Florendos being desirous to execute the charge was left with him, came to the vanquished knight, desiring that he would satisfie him, of whence and what they were, and to what end they cam thither, whereto the knight thus answered.

You shall vnderstand (worthy Sir) that we were borne in the Realme of Spaine, and haue béene held of good account in the king Recindes Court, as for our names, you shal know that I am called Brandamor, and my companion had to name Sigerall. We two being desirous to seeke knightly aduen­tures, among many other which we passed with honour, we concluded [...]o make triall of the conquest of this sheeld, where­in is figured the heauenly face of the Princesse Miragarda.

But Fortune not, minding the former regard shée had of vs, caused vs to be conquered by the Damoselles Knight, [Page] before we could accomplish the meane to enter the Combate with him, whose charge was onely to defende the Shielde. I assure you my friend (answered the Prince Florendos) the bold and discourteous enterprise you tooke in hand, deserued greater chastisement then you haue as yet receiued, for one can­not deale seuerely enough with those, who put foorth them­selues in such actions, as doeth reproach them with high disho­nour.

Wherefore, that you may purge your selfe of this notorious crime, you shall here faithfully protest vnto me, that you will goe submit your selfe to the King Recindes Court: and if so be your presume to contrary what I haue adioyned you, I shall en­force more grieuous affliction on you, then these wounds can doe which you haue on your body.

The Knight (being not as yet thorowly receiued out of the feare, which the Damosels Knight had frighted him withall) vowed faithfully to Florendos, that he would execute to the vt­termost what he had commanded him: wherefore hauing his wounds dressed, he presently betooke himselfe to his iourney, leauing the buriall of his companion to the Prince.

In few daies after, he arriued at the king of Spaines Court, being very loth to enter in, because he was so well knowne to the King, & the chiefe noble men of his Court, but notwithstan­ding his great vnwillingnesse, the regard of his oath so much preuailed with him, as he entred the Pallace.

The Ladies which beheld him, did not repute him amongst the number of those vanquished by the Damosels Knight, be­cause his Armour was so faire and vnbroken, nor blemished in any place: beside his Shield was no whit impayred, but the de­uise thereof to be séene at pleasure, so that the Ladies delighted greatly to behold him.

Brandamor being come into the Chamber of presence, the King and the Quéene being there both together, he opened his Helmet, and knéeling downe before the Quéene, rehearsed the the whole circumstance of his charge, as concerning the beha­uiour of the Damosels Knight.

[Page] In the reporting of this his great misfortune, séeing so ma­ny of his friendes present, the colour arose so redde in his face, as neither the King nor the Quéene knew him, no, not they that had beene daily conuersant in his company, but general­ly they reputed him for some straunge Knight: so that the Queene demanded of him, what he was, and for what occasion he enterprised to Combate with the Damosels Knight, Bran­damor, then gaue her to vnderstand, how the Damoselles Knight had slaine his companion Sigerall, and how before he had vanquished them, he Iousted against the Knight that gar­ded the Princesse Miragardaes Shield, likewise that he Com­batted with the Giant Almaroll, and had brought him in very great daunger of his life. Wherevpon, the King entred into these speeches.

Certainely, I cannot chuse but wonder, hearing the noble prowesse of this vnknown Knight▪ and I promise thée knight, thou deseruest to haue the same punishment which hath happe­ned to thy companion, and I assure thée, I would see it exe­cuted on thée my selfe, if I did not perswade my selfe, that the beautie of the Princesse Miragarda hath rauished the minds of other Knights, who might boast of better assurance in them­selues then he could.

At these wordes, Brandamor came and kissed the Kinges hand, by which occasion the king knew him, which made him to iudge the more worthily of the Damoselles Knight, and he commaunded his Chirurgions should vse good respect vnto Brandamor, because he had well deserued by his valour in times past. But scantly was he departed their presence, when the two Knights that (would haue rauished Siluian) arriued at the Court, they being so féeble and weake, as they were con­strained to leane on their Esquiers shoulders, till they came in­to the Kings presence, where he that had the least hurt, began to vse his language in this manner.

My gracious Lord, the Damosels knight, whose renowne is so highly commended in this Court, hauing vanquished vs in the open fielde, commaunded vs to come and submitte our selues to your excellency, to be iudged according as our déedes [Page] haue deserued: in respect whereof, we come to present our selues to the Ladies of this Court, whom we intreate so to worke on our behalfe with your Maiestie, as the offence may be pardoned, which our fleshly willes procured vs to commit. Then these two knights discoursed at large, how euery thing had happened to them, vppon which occasion the King thus spake.

Surely, it doth not a little content me, that God hath suffe­red you to receiue punishment for your misdéedes, by the hands of the renowned Damosels knight, on whose behalfe, and for the loue I beare him, I will proceede against you, according as your hainous offences haue worthily deserued: & I assure you, the more I heare the noble valour of this knight, the more desi­rous I am to haue knowledge of him.

My Lord (said the knight) you haue very great occasion to estéeme of him, for I am of the opinion, that all the worthines which ought to be in a knight, is in him: for his sake therefore, we humbly intreat your maiestie, to vse such perswasion with the Ladies, as they will suffer my companion and me to beare Armes, which were forbidden by the Damosels knight, vntill the Ladies of your Court haue pardoned the iniurie, which we offered to the Damosell, whom this Knight by his hardinesse tooke from vs.

I promise you my friendes (saide the King) my good will is so slender in this case, as you shall receiue no fauor by my ayde. The Knight noting the Kings answere, desired the Quéene that it might stand with her pleasure to command her Ladies, to entertaine them into their fauorable iudgements: and they would so witnesse their good affections towardes them, that so long as they liued, they would be ready to spend their liues for them.

The Quéene had not the leisure to make them any answere, because the Knight that would haue carried away Arlencea, came and humbled himselfe on his knées before the Ladies, declaring to them how the Damoselles knight had commaun­ded him, to come and render himselfe to their mercy, without which, he would not permit that he should weare armour any [Page] more, the conceit thereof was so grieuous to him, as he tooke the hardinesse to intreate the Quéene to assist him in his sute: whereto she returned this answere.

It séemeth to me, that the Ladies of my Court remaine greatly indebted to the Damosels Knight, for whose sake I wil not seeme to hinder you, but commit you all thrée to their dis­cretions, to whom you are sent. The knight which had last of all deliuered his message, no sooner beheld the other two, but he presently knewe them: the one was called Ferrobreque, and the other Gentafort, they being both discended of a giants race, the sight of them caused him not to take his misfortune so hea­uily, as he did all the while before.

The Ladies vnderstanding the pleasure of the Quéene, con­cluded to giue them leaue to weare their Armor, warning them on perill of their liues, not to vse them in any places, where Ladies or Damosels should be iniured, but to passe on and let them alone, whether the cause were iust or vniust, they should not intermeddle withall.

This charge seemed very vnfriendly to the knights, but they durst not séeme to dislike thereof: wherevpon they were con­strained to allow of their sentence, afterward they tooke leaue and departed from the Court.

A good space it was, before any more tydings came to the Spanish Court of the Damoselles Knight, but at length thrée Knights armed very brauely, arriued at the Pallace, about the Euening tide, the King, the Queene, and the Ladies, being walking in a faire Gallerie, the prospect whereof was out in­to the Court, where they might beholde these three Knights, who sent an Esquire, to declare their willes to the King Recinde.

The arriuall of the Esquire, caused many to assemble into the Gallery, where the Esquire being come before the King, he humbled himselfe on his knees with these words. Renow­ned Prince, these three straunge Knights, commaunded mée to let your Highnesse vnderstand, that they haue trauailed a long time, in the seruice of the thrée Daughters of Galiaster, Duke of Arragon, who were iudged faire in the eyes of these [Page] thrée Knightes, albeit they were found verie false in their loue. For they (after they had long time entertayned these Knightes as chiefe of their affections) were married vnto thrée other Gentlemen, who were brought vppe in their fathers Court, and with these receiued great contentment, not consi­dering the offence they haue committed, in beiug so forgetfull of their owne honour, as to marrie with such as beséemed not their degrees.

These thrée Knights are so highly offended hereat, as they haue concluded neuer to espouse any other Damosels, but one­ly such, as being wearie of their owne seruants, will vouchsaf [...] to admit them entertainment. But if any such as are foresaken of their Ladies, shall alledge, that this change is not equall, these thrée knights will iustifie the triall thereof against them by Combate.

And because these Ladyes may fauour them in their de­mands, without any preiudice to the renowme: I will de­clare to you the estates of these knights. The first is named Lustramar, the eldest sonne to the Marquesse Astramor. The second is called Arpian, sonne to the Duke of Archeste. The third is Gradian, the County of Artasia: who doe altogether humbly desire these Ladies (by your Highnesse licence) that they would shew their good willes vnto them, because they are so desirous to make knowne to them, the hauty valour of their inuincible stomackes: for here will they abide all this day, in the same manner as you see, to make proofe of Armes against their amourous seruants.

But if it so fall out, that they find the Ladies of this Court more desirous to keepe their old Seruants, then to enter­taine these so newly come, they will be content to depart hence, euen as they came hither, and being once gone from hence, they will visite most of the Princes Courts in Chri­stendome, to trie if Fortune will be so fauourable to them, as to knit vp their earnest desires to their contentment. The king Recinde was greatly abashed at these sudden newes, and the knights were moued much at this aduenture, especially, [Page] regarding the estates of them that would Combate for their Ladyes: and for them thus much I can say, that there were many among them, who would gladly haue forsaken their old fauoured seruants, on condition they might marrie with these three noble Princes.

The King and the Quéene allowing well their worthy en­terprise, they stayed a great while, looking when some one knight or other of the court, would be so venterous as to deale with them: but séeing none would come, they prepared them­selues to depart, at the very instant as the Damosels Knight arriued there.

This valiant and renowmed Knight was no sooner espyed, but they that knew him, came and met him, letting him vnder­stand the enterprise of the thrée strange Knights: which be­ing rehearsed to him, the Damosels receiued very much ioy thereat, for that they being wearie of him, and hope to depart with these thrée knights, and the Prince vnderstanding their intens, said vnto them. You shall now do what your selues imagine expedient, and I will recempence my selfe by these meanes on these thrée knights, for the great trauaile I haue taken dayly in your seruice. I haue béene so greatly deceiued in your loue (sayd Artesia) as I am content to change your company. And we are of the same minde (said they, whom he had woone from the Knights in the Forrest) vpon this, he sent them to the thrée knights, (who were preparing themsel [...]es to the Ioust) and willed them to come and deliuer them out of his handes, who would compell them to stay in his com­pany.

I [...]are me (quoth the King) that these Knights wil not at­taine the cheefe of their enterprise, against the hardy Damo [...]sels Knight. Artesia and her companions forsooke the com­pany of Arlencea, and put themselues apart from them: which the Ladies of the Court perceiuing, they could not chuse but maruell thereat, knowing very wel the prowesse of the knight that had conducted them. Some iudged the occasion, to be the Damosels desire of themselues, that they might be at their owne libertie: others reputed the cause to some vnfaithfulnes [Page] they had found in their Knight.

Gradian séeing the day wast apace, tooke the hardinesse to aduance himselfe foorth first, making show of the Ioust: which the Damosels Knight beholding, he gaue his horse the spurs, and encountred Gradian with so great force, as he made him fetch an errand on the ground: then hee came to Artesia with these words.

It is necessarie that once againe you come and obey that I shall command you. Then he receiued another Launce, which one of the Kings Pages brought him, and with it he vnhorsed Arpian, because he had not learned to sit fast in his Sadle. Lu­stramar was very angry at the misfortune of his friends wher­fore he encountred the Damosels Knight so nobly, as he caused him to forsake one of his Stirrops, but himselfe was sent to kéepe his fellowes company.

These thrée knights, séeing the dishonour they had receiued in the Ioust, offered to trie the Combate with the Sword, and chiefly Lustramar did séeme most desirous of it: but the Damo­sels knight excused himselfe, séeing the day departing so spéedily, and the darke night ready to ouercharge them, yet would not Lustramar be content with his answere, which when Poliphe­mia perceiued, she came vnto him with these words.

I pray you (Sir knight) content your selfe, and séeke no [...]ur­ther occasions at this time, for I assure you, that our guide is so litle woont to be conquered, as they that deale with him, are very well contented (hauing felt him indéede) to put vp the soyle of a fall. I haue found so small assurance (answered Lustramar) in Womens words, as (for your counsell) I will not forbeare to follow my enterprise. Then I promise you (said Artesia) you will not boast of your bargaine in the end.

While these two knights prepared themselues to the Com­bate, the king Recinde (who was desirous to know the Da­moselles knight) came himselfe to the place, where these two knights were offering to charge one another, when hee ca [...] ­sed them to be parted, and they all [...]oure were very honourably brought into the Pallace.

[Page] The Damoselles Knight humbly saluted the Quéene, and hauing taken off his Helmet, hée kneeled downe to kisse her hand: but the King (who knew him presently) imbraced him very louingly, speaking thus to the Queene. Madame, I pray you to make good account of the deedes of honour you haue re­ceiued by this Knight, for he hath finished as rare aduentures as euer did any: assuring you that he is the prince Florian of the Forrest, otherwise called the knight of the Sauage man, Sonne to the Prince Don Edward, and the Princesse Flerida your great friends. The Queene hearing these wordes, tooke him vp in her armes, and imbracing him very gratiously, charged him with his great discourtesie, when he passed by the Court, and would not suffer himselfe to be knowne.

Lustramar and his companions, knowing that he which had vanquished them, was the noble knight of the Sauage man, they made no account of the foyle they had receiued: but on the next morning when they had departed thence, they desired the Prince to esteeme of them as his vnfeined friends.

Two dayes after, the Knight of the Sauage man, was desi­rous to leaue the Court of Spaine, whervpon he tooke his leaue of the King and the Quéene, leauing Siluian there in the court, because she was well knowne, as also Artesia, and her compa­nions, who wept at their parting, for the losse of that they could not recouer againe. The Queene tooke her leaue friendly of the Giantesse Arlencea, because the Prince Florian did make so good account of her, and the King Recinde brought them foorth of the Citie, where taking a courteous farewell on all sides, with charging him to doe his commendations to the Emperor, and his children in the Emperours Court, the King returned againe into the Citie, and the Prince rode on his iourney.

CHAP. XXIX.
Of that which happened to the knight of the Sauage man, when he came to the Castle, where Arnalte the Princesse of Nauarre made her abode.

FLorian of the Forrest, not forgetting to take new armour, when he departed from the King of Spaines Court, yet kéeping his deuise in his shield of the Sauage man still, because he had greater delight therein, then in any other: in this manner he trauelled, atchieuing many rare and singular aduen­tures, which (for breuities sake) I let passe, because they were not of such importance, as to be placed among his other knight­ly déeds. After he had coasted along through diuers Countries, it was his fortune at length to arriue in a very pleasant valley, euen there where the Castle of the Princesse Arnalte stood: she being rid abroad on hunting, as also to sée a Combate fought betweene Dragonlat, the sonne of Drapos, and another Knight, who would not confesse the Princesse Arnalte to be the fairest Lady on the earth. And I assure you, that the pre­sence of Arnalte gaue such encouragement to Dragonalt, as he vanquished his aduersary, without any great endamage­ment of person or armour: which was of Azure colour, and bea­ring in his shield the same deuise which Miragarda had enioy­ned him, when he came with the Princesse to the Castle of Al­maroll, where he left the honour of the day, and vppon which occasion Arnalte did greatly stomacke him. But the Knight being beautifull, gratious, and often fortunate in triall of ad­uentures, continued in such earnest affection of seruice to her, as she in the end began to fauour his courteous deeds, with more regard then she had done before.

[Page] But returning to the knight of the Sauage man, whom the Princesse (being in company with her Damosels) had e­spyed comming a far off: whereupon she came to Draganolt, and after she had very graciously saluted him, she said, Behold, here comes the onely man in the world, who is my cruell ene­my, and of whom I desire to be seuerely reuenged: wherefore, (my especiall good friend) I desire now to sée the very vttermost of your redoubted behauiour. And if fortune regard you with such happinesse, as you enioy no danger in the fight, I wil not faile to recompence you in such sort, as you shall be thorowly satisfied and contented.

The promise which you make me (answered Dragonalt) is of such estimation in my thoughts, as your words is onely able to assure me the victorie, albeit fortune should séene to set her selfe against me. And perswade yourselfe, that it is vn­possible for me to be vanquished, if you continue me in your ac­ceptable fauour: in hope whereof, I will not onely enter the Combate with the Knight (for the desire I haue to reuenge your wrong) but I will likewise depriue him of his La­dyes, yea, and of his life, if it shall like you so to command me.

While Dragonalt spent other amorous spéeches, with the Ladie and Mistresse of his conquered thoughts, the Knight of the Sauage man and his company, came to the place where they stayed: then Dragonalt (to content the honor of the prin­cesse, aduanced himselfe forward with these words.

Sir Knight, I am to let you know, how you arre arriued in the place, where it is thought méete that you make triall of my valour, which you shall finde of such authoritie, as will enforce you to obey the commandement of this Princesse: whom I will cause you to confesse, that she is the fairest Lady liuing on the earth, and is best worthy of knightly seruice. And when I haue dispoyled you of your armour, you shall goe and submit yourselfe to this my Lady and Mistresse Arnalte, the Princesse of Nauarre, who shall accept into her seruice those Damosels in your company, because we pittie to see you so ouercharged: whereto the Prince Florian thus replyed.

[Page] If the Princesse of Nauarre (my friend) be so desirous to be serued with my Damoselles, it is very great shame to you, that you haue not sought me before this present, for you might haue found me better acquainted with Damoselles, then I am now, and by whom the Princesse Arnalte might haue re­ceiued far more honoour: but as for those which are with me, I thinke I shall defend them well enough from comming in her seruice. Moreouer, if I should be so impudent, as to confesse the large title you haue made of her, I should imagine my selfe depriued of my wittes: for I am (my selfe) the seruant of such a gratious Ladie, as the Princesse Arnalte may no way e­quall in beautie, and that I shall make you confesse before I depart.

Dragonalt being offended to heare the words of the knight of the Sanage men, tooke a strong Launce from his Esquire, and bowing himselfe to the Princesse to assist him with her fa­uour, he broched his horse against the prince, who likewise pre­pared himselfe to the Ioust: and they encountred together so valiantly, as Dragonalt breaking his Launce on the Knight of the Sauage mans Shéelde, lifted him vppon the croupher of his horse, but Dragonalt himselfe was cast forth of his Saddle. Vpon this the Prince Florian cast himselfe from his horse, and Dragonalt hauing recouered his feete, they beganne to charge one another very furiously, for Dragonalt intended to accom­plish his promise, or he would fight till the Knight of the Sauage man were depriued of his life.

But he found himselfe greatly deceiued, for the noble Flo­rian handled him in such sort, as the Prindesse Arnalte well perceiued, that the strength of her knight began to faile, and no maruaile, for he was gréeuously wounded in many places: whereat the knight of the Sauage man was greatly offended. And fearing he should kill him outright, he paused awhile, because he would suffer him to take breath, when, he desired him to giue ouer the Combat, & returne to the Passage which he had enterprised to guard: but Dragonalt gaue him this answer. Your counsell (S [...]r knight) were necessarie to be followed, if I made more account of my life, then the honour of [Page] the fight: therefore I let you vnderstand, that I intend not to giue ouer the Combat. Then began they the Combat a fresh, wounding one another so cruelly, as Arnalte and the Damo­sels did greatly pittie to sée the Knight so cruelly bent, that their blood altered the colour of the grasse where they fought: in the end Dragonalt not able to endure any longer, fell downe at the knight of the Sauage mans féete, to whom the Princesse presently, and fearing he would cut off the head of her friend, she spake to him in this manner.

I pray you (sir knight) do not take his life from him, consi­dering, the victorie is sufficient for an honorable mind. I pro­mise you Madame (answered the knight of the Sauage man) I wil not hold my hands, without he recant his former words, or you promise me a gift that I intend to demand of you. I pray you (said Arnalte) let him rise, for I am content to grant what euer you request, prouided alwayes, that you seeme not to impeach mine honor. Then the Knight of the Sauage man, gaue Dragonalt into the hands of the Princesse Arnaltaes da­moselles, who presently vnarmed him, and conueied him into the Castle, to haue his woundes drest, the daunger whereof was not so grieuous to him, as the conceyt of his minde, because he was againe conquered in the presence of his Ladie.

The knight of the Sauage man lodged without the castle (Arnalte now thinking, that she should neuer be reuenged on him) and there he soiourned three dayes, at the end whereof, he came to take his farewell of her: and finding her in the Prince Dragonalts Chamber, he fell in conference with her, the re­prouing him, for the small account he seemed to haue of her, whereupon he made her this answer.

Madame, if you were as firme and constant, as you are both kinde and beautifull (which is a thing most necessarie in you) I durst awarrant you, that your Knights could not be conuicted in this manner: beside, there is no knight, but would willingly ioyne with them in doing you seruice: and I assure you, that had you not offred to compell me against my will, I would willingly haue granted your owne desire, so de­sirous [Page] I am to doe faire Ladies seruice, remembring alwayes, that such as you are, ought to be well estéemed and not forgot­ten. And you shall vnderstand, that I haue béene both in the Court of England and Spaine, which are not a little renowned by the beauty of the faire Ladies, that there are nourished. Like­wise I haue séene Florenda, daughter to Arnedes the king of Fraunce, whose beautie is honoured of a great many: but shée whom your Champion named, and those that I haue rehearsed to you my selfe, may not compare with the Ladies of the Em­perour Palmerins Court.

There haue I séene Gridonia, Polinarda, Leonarda the prin­cesse of Thrace, and Sidelia, Daughter to the King Tarnaes, of Lacedemonia. I haue séene also the Princesse Targiana, daugh­ter to the great Turke, for whose loue, Albayzar the Soldane of Babilon, hath suffered very dangerous trauailes: all these (in my iudgement) are highly aduanced in beauty beyond you, and so it will be granted of any, that is not wedded in affection towards you.

But let it not offend you that I speake more plainely, it is your crueltie and pride together, that doeth much deface your title of beautie, which you cannot deny your selfe, making so light account as you doe of sir Dragonalt, not remembring that he is a worthy Knight, and Sonne to one of the most valiant Princes on the earth.

And if this triall is not sufficient to cause you loue him faith­fully, trust me I must needes say, that he hath put himselfe in danger for an vnfaithfull person, whom neither knightly boun­tie, nor regard of her owne duty hath power to mooue. In re­spect therefore that you made me promise to grant what I re­quested, my desire is, that in recompence of his noble deserts, you would accept of him as your Lord and Husband: so shall you both fulfill your promise to me, and accomplish the com­mandement, which the King your Father charged you should fulfill: I now respect your answere, to see if a man should build any assurance of your word. Sir Knight (answered Arnalte) do me the fauour to tel me first who you are, and afterward I will doe my good will to satisfie your request.

[Page] The knowledge of me faire Lady (saide the Knight of the Sauage man) shall be no hinderance to the matter, wherefore I aduertise you, that I am called Florian of the Forrest, Sonne to Don Edward the English Prince, and Flerida, the Daughter to the Emperor Palmerin: D [...]agonalt hearing these words, spake thus.

If in the victory you haue obtained (Sir Knight) I should loose nothing else, but the reputation of a good Knight, I could not be any iote offended, being vanquished at his handes, who alwayes returneth from the Combat conquerour: but seeing I am frustrate of the hope that should yéeld me content, I cannot chuse but complaine on Fortune, who hath caused me fall into so great perplexitie.

Arnalte, vnderstanding that the knight of the Sauage man, was the Sonne of the noble Prince Don Edward, she began to blush, remembring what had passed betwéene her and him, and very desirous she was to match with him in mariage, but seeing she might not doe as she would, she contented her selfe with his request, declaring her minde in this manner. I did not thinke (Sir Knight) that he which could so nobly vanquish the enterprise of knights, would study and practise how to deceiue poore simple women, neuerthelesse the behauiour of the Prince Dragonalt enforceth me to obey your desire. Vpon this condi­tion, that within one yéere, you and hee shall bring mee to the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, as well for the vnfained re­uerence I beare to his Maiestie, as also to be acquainted with those gratious Ladies which you haue named.

God forbid Madame (saide the Knight of the Sauage man) but I should agrée to this lawfull request, and the rather, be­cause I knowe your presence will greatly honour the Empe­r [...]urs Court. Then Florian offered to kisse the Princesse Ar­naltes hand, but she imbraced him very courteously, and Dra­gonalt would haue humbled himselfe at his féete, but he would not suffer him to rise from his bed, for he made such estimation of him, as hee sent for the chiefe gouernours of the Realme: who hauing knowledge of the Knight of the Sauage man, iudged the mariage of Dragonalt and the Princesse to be ac­cording [Page] as it ought, and to do them the greater honour, the Prince Florian caused the marriage to be solemnized presently in the Castle.

On the next morning, he came to take his leaue of the prince Dragonalt, and the Quéene Arnalte, to whom hauing made promise, that he would not faile to accompany them to the Emperours Court, he tooke his way on his iourney, where we will forsake him a while, and speake somewhat of the Prince Albayzar.

CHAP. XXX.
How the Prince Albayzar embarqued himselfe, to saile into Turkie, after that he had presented himselfe to the Princes of Thrace.

ALbayzar the Soldane of Babylon, was de­sirous to leaue the King of Spaines court, thrée dayes after he had tried the Ioust a­gainst the noble Prince Florian of the For­rest, and taking his farewell of the King, the Quéene, the Ladies, and those knights of the Court who were his friends, he set for­ward on his way, accompanied with two Esquires, making such spéedy haste, as it was not long before he attained to the Cittie of Constantinople.

Then comming to the Pallace, with a very proude and stately iesture, he entred the Chamber of Presence, where he found the Emperour, the Empresse and her Ladies, beside the chéefe Princes and Knights of Court: he making no reue­rence to any, stood viewing among the Ladies (whom he had séene before) which of them he might repute for the Princesse of Thrace. At last, iudging her to be the Princes, that sate next [Page] vnto the faire Polinarda, he came before her, and knéeling down saluted her with these spéeches.

Madame, at the very instant I was about to depart from the King of Spaines court, a knight arriued there, being accompa­nied with nine Damosels, and he trying the Iousts with the most redoubted Knight of the Court, vnhorsed them brauely one after another. The sight hereof made me desirous to ha­zard my fortune, but such was my ill hap, that he serued me as he had done the other knights: and hauing thus conquered me, he enforced me to make my faithfull promise, that I would come and submit my self before you, and declare the message he would command me, for the condition was so made on either part when we began the Ioust. This Knight charged me to say vnto you, that it was no small griefe vnto him, since for­tune would not present him with any especial occasion, where­by he might declare the good will he bare you: neuerthelesse, he desired you very humbly, that you would make acceptance of this his first seruice: though it be not of so great estimation as your singularitie deserues. And now I remaine to know, in what cause it shall like you to imploy me, that I may doe you seruice. Albayzar being well knowne in the Emperors court, great ioy was made on all side for his arriual, and the Emperor himselfe was very well pleased, to sée him come in so good dis­position, for the good regard he had of the Princesse Targiana his Lady, whose vertuous deserts had bound him to be very carefull of Albayzars health, prosperity, and safe deliuerance.

The Princesse of Thrace arose, and taking Albayzar by the hand, spake thus vnto him. I pray you (Sir Albayzar) to doe what it shall please the Emperour to command you, which I iudge will be nothing hurtfull vnto you, séeing the great desire he hath to reioyce the Princesse Targiana, with your presence.

Albayzar tooke in very good part the gentlenesse which the Princesse of Thrace vsed towards him, and hauing giuen her hearty thankes for her courtesie, he came and saluted the Em­presse, and the Princesse Gridonia, afterward he came to the Emperour, who taking him in his armes, entred into these spéeches.

[Page] I assured am (Sir Albayzar) that the Soldane Olorique, your Father, receiued more great contentment when I im­braced him, then I can doe: yet am I desirous to doe you all the honour you can, as well from the friendship I beare to your father, as to recompence some part of the great courtesie, which I haue receiued by the Princesse Targiana, your espoused La­dy, who may commaund any thing she shall thinke good in my court, and I am sory that you cannot perswade your selfe, how you may doe as much.

My gracious Lord (answered Albayzar) I am not of so sim­ple vnderstanding, but I can well perceiue what great honour you haue alwayes offoorded me: but yet I cannot forget the shame I receiued here in your Court, when I was vanqui­shed, and likewise, how you haue not done Iustice to the Prince Florian, for the iniury he offered the Princesse Targi­ana, albeit the great Turke her Father requested it at your hands, which is no more but right and Iustice, and which you daily permit to euery one, but kindred preuaileth so in you towardes him, as you will not heare what Iustice calleth for.

I sée well then (said the Emperour) that reason cannot pre­uaile with you, I certifie you once more yet, that the princesse Targiana came hither more on her owne good will, then com­pelled or enforced therto by Florian of the Forrest, my Nephew But referring this talke, because it is not to be vsed among friends, I pray you imagine your selfe welcome, and goe rest your selfe in your Chamber, while the Gallies be prouided, which haue expected here your comming, since my sonne Polen­dos and the other Knights arriued at Constantinople. My Lord (said Albayzar) I take the time so commodious for mée now to saile, as I will not vse so good opportunitie, and there­fore I intend to stay no longer in this Countrey. Eeuen as please you for that (answered the Emperor) it is not méet that I should disswade him that is so resolute.

The ambassador (who had staied there all this while) came very reuerently to the Prince Albayzar, and to hold that the Gallies were ready, the Sea in good case, and the winde very [Page] well for their voyage. The Prince Albayzar tooke his leaue of the Emperor, the Empresse and her Ladies, and being accom­panied with the princes, Primaleon, Polendos, Belcar, the Gi­ant Dramusiande, and others, they came to the Port where the Galleys lay: but the Giant Dramusiande, séeing the small ac­count Albayzar made of the Princes that bare him company, he spake vnto him in this manner. I sée well Albayzar, that the Emperor is worthy to be blamed, for shewing honour to such an vnthankefull person as you are, who seemes not to re­gard the Prince Primaleon, he (at his Fathers request) cōming to grace you with his company, albeit he needed not to abase himselfe so much.

Tush Sir (answered Albayzar) it is long since I knew the small good will thou couldest allow me, but this I tell thée, that a noble mind disdaineth familiarity to them, whom he accoūteth for his better enemies, and thus thou maist perswade thy selfe, that I am an enemy to all of the Emperors Court, and so thou maist tell him from me: wherefore then should I vse any cour­tesie to the Prince Primaleon, to whom I will shewe the very worst I can. Wherefore (sir Dramusiande) grieue not to see me behaue my selfe as I doe, among mine enemies, for I promise you, I will returne with as much expeditions as I can, to wit­nesse before the walles of his Citie, that which I haue at this houre in my minde.

I could wish (saide Dramusiande) that thou hast béene there where thou wouldst be, and wert returned hither againe, that I might reuenge the iniurie thou didst me, when thou wast so bold, as to cary away the shield of the princesse Miragarda. Al­bayzar was about to make him answere, but the Prince Pri­maleon tooke Dramusiāde by the hant, & with the other knights returned to the pallace, where they gaue the Emperor to vnder­stand, what good will the Prince Albayzar bare him. The Gal­lies being launced into the déepe, the Marriners hoy [...]ed their sayles, hauing their wind so at will, as in short time they reach­ed the great Caire, where the great Turke made his abode, who iudged that the Emperour Palmerin would be offended, for the had entertainement he gaue his Knights.

[Page] But when he had knowledge of the arriuall of the Galleys, he was so ioyfull, as he came himselfe to receiue the Prince at the hauen, being not desirous to question of the Emperors ho­nest vsage towards him, for then he feared least his owne in­tent of treason would reprooue him.

Albayzar remained a certaine time in the great Turkes Court, attending the comming of the principall estates of Ba­bilon, whom he would haue there presēted at the second solem­nizing of his marriage, which was honoured with the presence of the Soldane of Persia, the King of Bythinia, the King of Gas­plia, the King of Terbifonde, beside many other Princes and Knights, who concluded all together to passe the Seas, and lay siege to the citie of Constantinople, and because they would the more suddainely execute their intent, they seuerely returned in­to their dominions, to make preparation for their traiterous enterprise.

CHAP. XXXI.
Of that which happened to the Knight of the Tiger, after he was departed from the Perillous Isle, taking his iourney towards the Citie of Constantinople.

THe Knight of the Tiger, (of whom our Hi­story hath beene silent along time) entred the Foyst with Argentao, the Gouernour of the Profoūd Isle, at what time the wind was so contrary, as he was faine to take landing in the same Isle, where he soiour­ned for certaine daies, at the earnest impor­tunitie of the inhabitants, who could thinke themselues neuer enough satisfied with his company: but yet the long desire he [Page] had to sée the Citie of Constantinople, made him imagine the time too tedious till he came thither. At length (with much a doe) hee departed thence in a Galley, accompanied with his friend Siluian, being in a uew Armour which he caused to bée made in the Profound Isle, but kéeping his deuise of the golden Tiger, which was renowned thorow all countries in Chri­stendome: hauing sayled a long time, hee came at last to the Coast of Scotland, where his minde serued him well to goe on shoare.

And after he had trauelled thrée dayes in that Countrey, he came into a goodly Valley, along the middest thereof was a great riuer, and not far off, he beheld a faire house standing on the riuer side, hauing a bride for passage to it, the which was kept by a Knight in gréene Armour, who bare in his Shield a white Bull, which deuise made him suspect that it should be his brother Pompides.

On the other side the bridge, which crossed ouer another part of the riuer, he espied another Knight, who seemed as hardy a man as the knight of the Bull, being in very rich Armour, and he might not passe the bride, without hée did first Combate with him that defended it: as for him that would not endure the fight, hée must yeeld himselfe to Armisia the King of Scots daughter, to whom the house belonged. This strange Knight attending while the other got on horsebacke, he put his fortune in triall to set at libertie the passage, but he failed in his intent as you shall heare hereafter, and rendred himselfe to the mercy of Armisia: who ordained the custome to this ende, that she might haue her house furnished with Kinges of good cou­rage, whereof she knew she should get a number, because this passage was one of the chiefest in all Scotland, and none could get to the other side of the riuer, without they passed at this bridge, which was so large, as foure Knights might easily com­bate thereon, and it was so well fenced on either side, as they could not bee in daunger of the Riuer while they fought the Combate.

The Knight of the Tiger stayed a while, to sée the ende of the Combate betwéene these Knights, and viewing well the [Page] Knight of the Bull, who had lifted vp the Feuere of his Hel­met, to speake to a Damosell which stood looking foorth at a window) he was then perfectly perswaded, that it was his Brother Pompides, who hauing concluded his familiar talke with the Damosell, tooke his Lance, and came further forth vp­on the Bridge, whereupon the strange Knight spake to him in this manner.

I feare me (Sir knight) that we shall be hindered by the night which draweth fast vpon vs, before we can make an end of our Combate, whereto I sée you prepare your selfe, onely to witnesse your seruice to the Damosell in the window. What is that materiall to you Sir? (answered the Knight of the Bull) if for her sake I enterprise the fight, doubt you not but I will be as good as my promise.

So without any more words, they ranne together very couragiously, and after they had broken their Lances, they met so fiercely with their bodies, as they fell both beside their horses, to the ground.

When they had recouered themselues, they drew their swordes, wherewith they fought a very doubtfull and daun­gerous Combate, the aduantage whereof fell to the Knight of the Bull, yet not so easily, but he was glad for to rest him­selfe as his enemie: which when he perceiued, he leaned himselfe against the wall, giuing these spéeches to the strange knight.

How say you now Sir? doe you not perswade your selfe now, that I haue power sufficiently to accomplish what I haue promised? Wherefore I would counsell you to reserue your manhood for other occasions, better then to lose your life here, and therefore bee ruled by my aduise, goe submitte your selfe to the Princesse Armisia, who will not deale dis­courteously with them, that will so render their seruice vnto her willingly: the straunge Knight returned him this aun­swer.

Sir knight, I know as well as you, what profite or dan­ger can come to me, if I should doe as you perswade mée, [Page] therefore I pray you let this talke passe and let vs end what we haue begun.

And so without attending any answer, he began to charge the Knight of the Bull againe, who entertained him in such sort, as in short time he felt himselfe to feeble, to re resist the har­dy strokes his enemy gaue him, so that in the end, being vna­ble to continue any longer, he had lost so much blood, yt he fell downe before the knight of the Bull, who taking off his helmet spake vnto him in this manner.

You shall vnderstand now (Sir knight) that be cause you scorned to follow my counsell, you shall now▪ whether you will or no) goe submit your selfe to the Princesse Armisia, and if you refuse to doe it, I will not fayle to part your head from your shoulders. I know not Sir (answered the straunge Knight) which of these two conditions I should chuse, where­with you present me, so dangerous they both seeme to me, for I would more willingly receiue my death at your hand, then goe submit my selfe to her, who can be pleased with nothing else, but adioyning me a most shamefull death.

The knight of the Bull being ignorant of the reason, why he feared so much to goe render himselfe to the Princesse Ar­misia, desired that he would tell him his name. Truely Sir (said the strange knight) I intend not so much to satisfie your will: for it is yet some contentment to him that is vanqui­shed▪ when the conquerour hath no knowledge of him.

The knight of the Bull séeing him so obstinate, sent his Es­quire to the Princesse Armisia, desiring her, (if so it were her pleasure) to grant this Knight his life. Armisia, who was al­waies very courteous to them that had any preferment in her fauour, commanded one of her Damoselles to goe to the knight of the Bull, and tell him that he should giue the knight his life, after he had knowledge who he was.

The Damosell was no sooner come to the Bridge, but she presently knew the vanquished knight to be Adraspe, sonne to the duke of Sizana, who had slaine the Prince Doriell, bro­ther to her Lady and Mistresse Armisia, for the reuenge of whose death, the guarding of that passage was first ordained. [Page] Vpon this, the Damosell began to crie aloude and teare her haire very pittifully, saying he was now come that had slaine the Prince Doriell, which her Lady hearing, she came downe immediatly, with her Damosels waiting on her, both shée and they wéeping very bitterly, when she spake to the Knight of the Bull in this manner.

I pray you Sir Knight let me haue your assistance, to be de­liuered out of the grieuous passions wherein I haue long time remained: for you shall vnderstand, that the Knight whom you haue conquered, is the very same that flew my brother Dori­ell, for whose death the King my father liueth in extreame heauinesse.

The knight of the Tiger marking her words, spake in this order to his friend Siluian: I sée wel it is more dangerous to fall into the hands of a woman, who is desirous of vengeance, then to deale with a hundred good and hardy knights. Wherefore I pray thée take my horse a while, and I will goe sée, if by my en­treatance his life may be saued. Then came he to the Bridge, and desired the Knight of the Bull, that would not offer the knight any more cruelty: and turning to the Princesse Armi­sia, he saluted her with these spéeches.

Madame, if any anciant enmitie causeth you to desire the death of this Knight, I pray you admit to memorie, that a La­dy of so great calling as you are, ought not to be void of lenitie and pittie, and chiefely at such a time, when you haue most pow­er to execute the extremitie of your will. And if my reasons be not sufficient to appease your anger. I pray you yet consider with your selfe, that no persons vse crueltie where they may shew pittie, but they repent themselues afterward when their collericke moode is ouerblowne and past.

The honest and vertuous language of the knight of the Ti­ger, had not the power to mooue any pittie in the Princesse Ar­misia: but she commanded the knight of the Bull, that he should cut off the head of her enemie, then the Prince gaue her these wordes. I promise you Madame, if neither pittie nor perswa­sion may preuaile with you, I will stand such an eye-sore in your way my selfe, as you shall not execute your malicious [Page] humour. I would with all my heart (said the Knight of the Bull) that it might please the Princesse to grant this knight his life: but since you presume so boldly to defend him, I will not refuse (albeit I am so sore wounded) to let you vnderstand that you neither can nor shall hinder me, in fulfilling what my Lady hath commanded.

The knight of the Tiger did not vse these wordes, to the end that hee would enter the Combate with Pompides, but onely to change the rigorous humour of Armisia, and because he saw the Knight in such danger. But such was the cruell minde of the Princesse, as shée continued still in one song, calling for the head of the vanquished knight Adraspe, who with the great expence of his blood, and griefe to sée the wreakefull will of Armisia, ended his life while the knight of the Tiger and Pompides were preparing themselues to the Combat: Armi­sia séeing Adraspes was dead, could not be yet contented there­with, because his head was not smitten off as she commanded. Wherefore, because Pompides did not accomplish what she willed him, shée flang away in a furie, and went into her Chamber.

Pompides, who was brought into great extremitie for her loue, did so grieue at her departure, as he was constrained to set him downe vpon the bridge: but the knight of the Tiger perceiuing his heauines, tooke pitty on him, and came to com­fort him, which Pompides séemed to disdaine, because he iudged that his presence procured his misfortune. Siluian séeing his maister not returne, came walking with his horse before the bridge, whom Pompides hauing espied, he knew presently that the knight of the Tiger, was the renowed Palmerin of Eng­land, in which perswasion, for the great ioy hee conceiued, he came to him with these words.

I am well assured my gratious Lord, that the comfort I re­ceiued at this present instant, will deface and extinguish all my former mishaps. Palmerin tooke off his Helmet, and hauing imbraced Pompides, beganne to perswade him in good hope of his Lady, who had no sooner forgotten her anger, but shee re­prooued her selfe of great vnkindnesse, and then shee sent to [Page] intreate Pompides that he would pardon her, and if so it were his pleasure, to bring the knight into her house with him, whoō she saw so familiar with him.

Pompides vnderstanding the will of the Princesse, took his brother by the hand and walked into his Chamber, where, when they were vnarmed, the Princesse came her selfe to visit them, entring into these spéeches to the knight of the Tiger. I beséech you Sir knight to excuse me, in that I made no more account of your honest and courteous words: for I assure you, the great danger wherein I was at that instant, would not suffer me to regard any perswasion whatsoeuer, but onely to reuenge my selfe on my cruell enemy. And because you shal not conceiue any ill opinion of me, I will tell you for what cause I enuied the Knight so much.

You shall vnderstand Sir, that I am the daughter of Meli­adus the king of Scots, in whose Court Adraspe the eldest son to the Duke of Sizana (whom Pompides hath slaine)▪ beganne to waxe very amourous of me, but because I knew him to bée one of very bad conditions, I made no regard of his earnest suite. Neuerthelesse he was so importunate and voyde of rea­son, as he would not be answered. Wherupon I was constrai­ned to complaine to the Prince Doriell my Brother, of whom when Adraspe perceiued himselfe to bee hated and despised, he practised which way he might best be reuenged on him, and following his secret trayterous intent, it was not long after before he had the opportunitie for to execute his mallicious sto­macke.

It so chanced, that one day my brother and he had appoin­ted to walke abroade together, when, Adraspe being priuily armed, and hauing at hand such as prouided for his purpose, he slew my Brother, whose death the King my father could not accomplish to reuenge, because hée should then deale with one of the chéefest Princes of his Realme, and his best assured friend.

Yet was not his heart frée from continuall vexation, in re­spect that nature could not otherwise chuse, which I pittying, and willing to assist my father to the vttermost I could, [Page] I left the Court, and caused this house to be erected in this place, which being the chiefest passage in all this Realme, I enterprised to haue some valiant Knight defend this Birdge, promising to marry with him, if he could be so happie as to kill Adraspe. And he (as he was alwayes accustomed) bearing a proude and loftie minde, would oftentimes come to show himselfe here, onely to vexe me with the remembrance of my Brothers death: and still hee would Combatte with my Knights, being euermore so fortunate as to vanquish and kill them.

But after the knight of the Bull tooke this charge vpon him, Adraspe (who had heard of his noble prowesse) remained two moneths before he could come hither againe: yet at the last, came to trie his Fortune against the Knight of the Bull, who hath depriued him of his life as you sée, and satisfied my wil that made me to ordaine this custome,

Madamy (answered the knight of the Tiger) you should haue had my helpe in taking his life from him, if you had told me at the first what great wrong he had done you, for the very earth will open to swallow those, that intend or practise any treason against their Prince, yea and the Prince himselfe can­not be frée from such secret conspirators, when fauour shall stand in stéede of Iustice to such wicked offendors: wherefore, if they be sharpely punished, the rest will be the better warned by their tran [...]gression.

And I assure you Madame, you haue done as well beséemed a vertuous Princesse, in cutting off that branch, when fortune made the instrument of your vnhappinesse: beside, the duetie wherein you are bound to the knight your father, did command you should sée so good a déede executed.

Now therefore let me humbly intreate you, that you would kéepe your promise to Sir Pompides, who is my Brother, the nephew to king Frederick of England, and sonne to the prince Don Edward, who is father to him and me, and friend to you.

I sée well (sayde Armisia) that I haue wrought the content­ment of the Knight my father, and taken vengeance for the [Page] death of the Prince Doriel my brother, by the prowesse of him, whose presence is no small honour to me: neuerthelesse, I may thinke my selfe little beholding to him, in that he hath concea­led himselfe so long from me, who would haue allowed him more honourable entertainment. And I pray you Sir, let it not offēd you, that I desire to know, whether yon be the prince Palmerin, or Florian of the Forrest, his Brother: not that I am affectioned more to the one then the other, but because I would know, which of them Fortune hath made me so happy to sée: the Prince returned her this answer.

Florian of the Forrest (Madame) is so farre off this place, as very hardly can one tell where to meete with him: wherefore, you may perswade your selfe that I am Palmerin, whom (if you please) you may command as your seruant. The Prin­cesse Armisia embraced him very gratiously, reioycing that she might any way accomplish the meanes to honour him, be­cause the king Meliadus her father, was brother to the Quéene of England, the Prince Don Edwards mother.

The death of the proude Adraspe, was reported the same day in the king of Scots Court (which was but foure leagues from this place) and the name of the Knight that had slaine him: whereupon the king vpon the next meaning tooke his Coatch, and being accompanied with many worthy knights, he came to sée the Prince Palmerin of England: and hauing giuen him many gratious salutations, he tooke Pompides by the hand, promising to make as good estimation of him, as he did of the Prince his sonne while he liued. While the aged king sate fa­miliarly talking with Armisia his Daughter, the Archbishop of Esbreque arriued there, by whom, Pompides and Armisia, were presently married together, and then departing thence, they went very strongly to seeke to the Duke of Sizana, Father to the proud Adraspe, whom the king vowed to put to death, or kéepe him prisoner: but he reckoned without his Hoste, for the Duke being aduertised of his intent, fled i [...]to Ireland, whereupon his goods and liuing fell into the Kings handes. They in England hauing knowledge of Pompides marriage, made Triumphs and Bonfires, for the good fortune that had [Page] happened to Pompides, who was very well beloued of euery one, as well for being the Sonne of the Prince Don Edward, as for his vertuous bounty and knightly courage.

CHAP. XXXII.
How the knight of the Tiger, tooke his leaue of Meliadus the king of Scots, and of the Princesse Armisia his Daugh­ter and what happened vnto him during his voyage.

WHen the Nuptials of Pompides were so­lomnized, to the great contentment of the King of Scots, and his whole Realme, the Knight of the Tiger tooke his leaue of the King, and the Princesse Armisia, accompa­nied with his brother Pompides, to whom (before he was embarqued) he gaue to vn­derstand, the charge wherein all Princes were bound that re­ceiued royall dignitie, desiring him very earnestly, since fortune had brought him to so great felicitie, that he would vse himselfe modestly and wisely, because Fortune was so vncertaine in her selfe, that sometime she put those persons in greatest feare, whom she had placed in most assurance, whereby she letteth them vnderstand, that she can quickly dispossesse them of their happinesse, at such time as they little looke for any such altera­tion.

But to the end you may enioy your dignitie with most assu­rance, I counsell you to entertaine your subiects with amitie, administring Iustice rightly vnto them, which let bee done with so good zeale, as it be not conuerted in rigour and cruelty, whereby you shall cause them to say, that their Gouernor is be­come tyrannous and vnmercifull to them.

My Lord (answered Pompides) your wordes sauouring of [Page] so good iudgement, as they are worthy of most high commen­dation, I cannot but thinke my selfe much bound to you, for this your noble and friendly counsell, assuring you that I will lodge them faithfully in my heart, and accomplish them accor­ding to your gracious commaundement, for in doing other­wise, I shall iudge my selfe vnworthy to be named your Bro­ther.

After many such like spéeches had past betwéene them, they imbraced one another, Pompides returning to the Citie, and Palmerin entring the Shippe, caused the sayles to be hoysed, when the winde seruing them so well, as (after they had spent such time as is méete for so great a iourney) the Prince tooke landing in Hungaria. When he had past through diuerse pla­ces of the Countrey, it was his chaunce to arriue in a goodly Forrest, where at length he came to a very faire Fountaine, which was couered with an Arke of maruellous ingenious workemanship: and because the weather was excéeding hot, he alighted to refresh himselfe at this Fountaine. In the meane while Siluian suffered the horses to grase in the pasture, and when the Prince had washed his hands and his face, he espyed a little from him downe further in the Forrest, a Damosel run­ning very spéedily, with her haire hanging about her shoulders, and tearing her faire visage with her nailes, crying and wéeping out of measure: at last she espyed the Knight of the Tiger, to whom she came running a great pace, and casting her selfe at his féete, she remained fearefully looking about her a good while, hauing not the power to speake one word.

The Knight of the Tiger séeing her perplexed case, began to pittie her very much, and doubted lest he that had feared her, would make pursuite after her, he called for his Helmet, which he had no sooner clasped on his head, but he beheld comming the way that the Damosell came, a giant very strongly armed, carying in his hand a huge Mace, who séeing the Damosell, had demaunded succour of the Knight of the Tiger, spake vnto her in this manner. Trust me Damosell, you betake your selfe to very simple assurance, in that this knight wanteth strength to defend you against me.

[Page] So without any more words, he strooke at the Prince with his Mace, who put his Shield before him to resist the stroke, which was so rigorous, as his Shield flewe in two pieces: the Prince was somewhat offended hereat, wherefore (drawing his sword) he gaue the Giant such a blowe on the arme, as af­terward he could hardly strike to any great purpose. The Da­mosell remaining still in extreame feare, by the cruell intrea­tance the Gigant had vsed to her, would haue departed to hide her selfe in the Forrest, because she iudged the Knight of the Tiger vnable to subdue her enemy: which Siluian perceiuing, came vnto her, and counselled her to see the end of the Combat, wherevpon she gaue him these words. I pray you gentle esquier and my friend, that you would not séeme to hinder me, for this Giant, nay rather a Deuill (whose force none is found able to resist) will assuredly put me to death, after that he hath slaine your maister. I would yet (said Siluian) that you would stay to sée the ende of the fight: for peraduenture it may happen other­wise then you expect.

The knight of the Tiger (who was destitute of a Shield, to auoid the cruell strokes of his strong enemy) behaued himselfe so politiquely and nimbly, as hee lent the Giant many sore blowes, who was cōstrained because he could not lift his mace in his right hand) to vse his left, thinking yet to deale well e­nough with the Knight of the Tiger: but the Prince was so fierce vpon him (hauing giuen him many grieuous and mortall wounds) as his heart began to faile him, so that he retired, not able to resist so many waighty strokes, neuertheles, the prince séeing he had almost brought him to buy, let flie still so fiercely on him, as he could not haue the meane to charge him againe. The Giant perceiuing himselfe in such extremitie, leaned his backe against a Trée, when he defended himselfe a great while so well, that the Prince could hardly reach to hurt him, hee waged fight euery way so precisely with his Mace, which hee held in both his hands, watching the time when he might giue the Prince such a stroke as he willingly would.

The knight of the Tiger, he might not preuaile against the Giant, without hazarding his person in great danger, he went [Page] and rested himselfe against a Trée like wise, which when the Giant beheld, he spake vnto him in this order. I pray thee Sir Knight, let me find so much friendship at thy hands, as to let me vnderstand what is thy name, because I haue euermore thought that no ten of the best knights on the earth, could not do as much as thou hast done, neither that they could haue bene able to resist me halfe this while.

I am content (answered the knight of the Tiger) to satisfie thy will so much, on condition thou wilt promise to tell me thy name, and the cause why thou doest pursue this Damosell. So much (quoth the Giant) thou shalt commaund at my handes, wherefore, thou shalt vnderstand that I am called Vascalion of Ocrance, Sonne to the Giant Lucran, who was slaine at Constantinople by the hands of Primaleon, with whō he was so hardy as to enter the Combate, to reuenge the death of Don Perrequin of Duas, and to haue in marriage Gridonia, the du­chesse of Ormeda, who was afterward espoused to Primaleon. At what time my father was slaine, he left me in the kéeping of one of my Brethren, named Dramoque, who is likewise slaine be one of the sonnes of the Prince Don Edward of Eng­land, and this Knight is yet in the search of Knightly aduen­tures. But I assure you, I am not a little agréeued to sée my selfe in this case, becanse I am almost depriued of any hope, to reuenge the Death of my Father and his Brother, before I dye.

And for this Damosell, it is so, that fortune caused me to méet with her to day, and as I vnderstood by her, she is going to the Court of the Emperor Palmerin, to visite Leonarda the Prin­cesse of Thrace: now, for that I am desirous to do all the iniu­rie that I may, to any of that Emperours Court, I endeuored my selfe to rauish this Damosell. But at the time I was a­bout to fulfill my pleasure on her, an Esquire of hers (who had escaped my hands) came and hindered me with the ayd of fiue Knights, whom I haue left to hold Combat with ten of my Knights▪ because I would follow this Damosel, who tooke her selfe to flight, so soone as the fiue Knights began to charge me. Thus haue I told you the whole circumstance of my minde, [Page] now it remaineth that you reueale your selfe to me, according as at first you promised.

Beléeue me Vascalion (answered the Knight of the Tiger) it is necessary that thou shouldest receiue sharpe chastisement, for vsing thy life in such wicked actions, the proofe hereof thou mayst now behold thy selfe: for thou being not content with the death of thy Father and his Brother, séekest to reuenge thy villainous will on this innocent Damosell. I let thée know therefore, that I am a kinseman to Primaleon, and the same man that slew thy Fathers Brother, which made me be called Palmeran of England, Sonne to prince Edward and faire Fle­rida the Sister of Primaleon, for whose sake, I intend to take thy life from thée before I depart.

Vascalion (at these words) began greatly to dismay himself, for he knew well that his strength was not sufficient to hold out long against him, but yet he presently aduanced himselfe, to shew what desire he had to be reuenged on him that had slaine his Vuckle.

Palmerin being very glad, when he perceiued the Gianc had forsaken the Trée, which serued him all the while as a Ram­pire of defence, assayled him with such furious strokes, as the Giant would gladly haue rested himselfe againe: but the Prince followed him still so earnestly, as at length he tumbled on the ground before him, when (not content to sée him so con­quered) he set his foote vpon him, and when he had taken off his Helmet, he presently parted his head from his shoulders. The sight hereof made the Damosell so glad, as she had now for­gotten the feare wherein she was when the Giant pursued her, and then came the Knight of the Tiger to her with these words.

Faire Damosell, I iudge that the fiue Knights who are in Combate for your occasion, cannot otherwise chuse but be in great daunger: wherefore, I will goe séeke them foorth to suc­cour them, in the meane while you may come faire and softly after with my Esquire, who (for your better ease) shall take you vp behinde him on his horse. Then tooke he that way which he saw the Giant come, when he pursued the Damosell, and [Page] it was not long before he heard the clanching of the Swordes, wherevpon he gaue his horse the spurs, and neuer left gallop­ping till he came to them, where he sawe they had slaine foure of the Giants knights, and of the other sixe, there were but two that could defend themselues to any purpose.

The knight of the Tiger knew Dramian the king Recind [...]s sonne, by his Armour and the deuise he bare in his Shield, then alighting from his horse, he put himselfe among his friendes, charging one of them that fought so stoutly, as he tumbled rée­ling to the ground: which the other fiue perceiuing, they were so greatly dismayed, as in short time, the knight of the Tiger and his companions made an ende of their wretched liues.

The Damosell arriued there very soone after, when the sight of Siluian made the knight of the Tiger presently knowne to these fiue knights, who were not a little glad of his company, being all his knowne and approoued friends.

The first was Dramian, sonne to the king Recinde, the o­ther were Frisoll, sonne to the Duke Drapos of Normandie, Luyman of Burgundy, Tremoran, and Brandedon: al these fiue knights were conducted by their Esquers, to a little village not farre from the Forrest, where they were carefully attended till their wounds were healed.

The Knight of the Tiger kept them company two or thrée dayes, when afterward he tooke his leaue of them, setting for­ward the next way he could deuise, to bring him to Constanti­nople, where the Emperor was presently giuen to vnderstand, of the death of Vascalion and his tenne knights, which newes were highly welcome to all in the Emperours Court.

CHAP. XXXIII.
How the Knight of the Tiger, arriued at the Emperors court of Constantinople, & of an Aduenture which was offered to him at his arriuall.

BEcause the Prince Palmerin was desirous to be at Constantinople, he left the compa­ny of the Damosell and the fiue knights of the Emperours Court, continuing so long in trauaile, as at length he came into the Empire of Constantinople, without the finishing any aduenture worthy the re­hearsall: for I assure you the deuise of the Tiger he bare in his shield, made such report of him in all places abroad, as very few or none would willingly meddle with him. But the néerer the Prince approched to Constantinople, the more he found him­selfe passioned for the loue of his Lady, remembring her vnkind speeches, & the sharpe entreatance she vsed to him, when he de­parted from the Court, which were now so earnest in his thoughts, as he durst hardly now offer to come again in her pre­sence. Siluian labouring as much as he could possible, to cause him forsake that fond humor, perswading him that the Prin­cesse furie could not chuse but be now thorowly forgotten, and he durst awarrant, that she had repented her selfe many times since that she had vsed him so vngently.

The Knight of the Tiger hearing the wordes of Siluian, be­gan to comfort himselfe indifferently, and riding on, they came at last to haue the citie in their sight, which the Prince stood and and beheld a great while, with the teares running downe his cheekes, and many a scalding sigh sent from his hart, beholding the Chamber wherein his Lady and Mistresse lay.

[Page] When he had passed this cogitation so well as he could, hée clasped on his Helmet, and taking his Shield and his Launce, hee commaunded Siluian to goe before into the cittie, and prouide some place where he might alight, because he would come vnknowne, if so be any aduenture might be presented to him when hee arriued at the Court. And so it came to passe, that a knight came to the Emperors Court, the day before the arriuall of Palmerin, hauing two Esquires attending on him, who carried his Helmet, Shield, and Launce: and comming very proudly into the Emperors presence, he vsed his language in this manner.

I giue thée to vnderstand (most redoubted and famous Em­perour) that I Arnolte, the Lord of Astronomicall Isle, and the giant Brauorant, were very great friends together, for that our gouernments were somewhat néere one another, and to con­firme this friendship long continued betweene them, my Fa­ther concluded, that I should marry with Arlencea, Daughter to the Giant Brauorant: but because both my yeares and dis­cretion serued not as then, they prolonged our marriage for the space of fiue yeeres. In which time Brauorant departed this life, so likewise Camboldam, Calfurnien, Brocalont, and Baleato, who were slaine by the two sonnes of prince Edward of England, your nephews. And to abolish altogether the house of Brauorant, Collambra his wife (by the counsell of the Magi­tian Alfernao) sent Lady Arlencea her Daughter into this Countrey, to the end that by their deceit, they might cause the Knight of the Sauage man to forsake this Court, that reuenge might be taken on him for the death of her Sonnes, which would remedie her inward sorrowes, seeing him brought into her subiection.

But now it is thought vnpossible to helpe this misfortune, for Alfernao is slaine by Collambraes meanes, who threw her selfe headlong downe in the presence of her enemies: thus are they not onely depriued of their liues, but that which is worst of all, Arlencea is vtterly lost, being in his keeping that hath slaine her whole linage. [...]d because I haue desire to finde her, I enterprised to trauell hither, being minded to deale with [Page] the knight of the Sauage man, and not doubting but to dis­charge him of his life: but he is not now in this Court, where­at I am not a little offended, for if Fortune refuse mee, I shall not account it any iniurie to be vanquished at his handes, who is daily woont to remaine victor in all places where hée comes.

Beside, if I be depriued of my life, I shall make an ende of those careful thoughts, which maketh me desirous to be dissol­ued: and for this purpose I intend to waite his comming. Now if in the meane will, your Maiestie will giue me leaue to make some triall at Armes, against the Knightes of your Court, I shall count my selfe highly pleasured: the Emperour returned him this answere.

Trust me (my friend) you haue enterprised to séeke your owne ruine, wherefore I would counsell you to giue your minde to such thinges, the fruite whereof may yéelde you more commoditie then this is like to you. And I assure you, that neither Florian, nor Palmerin his Brother, is at this in­stant in my court, whom I would wish to be heare: neuerthe­lesse, if in the time you expect their comming, you be so desi­rous to make knowne your valour, I grant you the libertie of the field, where the Knights of my Court shall not saile to visite you.

I desire nothing more (answered Arnolfe:) And so with­out any more wordes he entred the Field, where he Iousted against three Knightes, two of them being vnhorsed, and the third vanquished in the Combat with the sword: then the day declining, they gaue ouer for that time.

On the next morning he entred the Field againe, being in blacke Armour and hauing painted in his Shield little flames of fire in a Field of Sable. The Knight of the Tiger stayed not long, before hee came and shewed himselfe in the Field, armed as he was woont to be, but very much disguised with shadowes, least hee should be knowne, and his deuise of the Tiger was so defaced, as one could not iudge what proportion it should be.

As he passed along by the Empresse Chamber windowe, [Page] he chanced to sée his Lady Polinarda, whereat he was some­what abashed: but séeing that Arnolfe was so ready to Ioust, he let passe all fond conceits, and praunced into the Lists to know the state of the enterprise, which was presently declared to him by one of the Iudges of the Feeld, whereupon the prince aduanced himselfe to the Giant Arnolfe, speaking vnto him in this manner.

Thou shalt vnderstand Arnolfe, that thou art now to deale with a kinseman to the knight of the Sauage man, wherefore if thou hast any thing to say vnto him, reuenge it on me, who is one of his linage. Arnolfe was so iocound when he heard these words, as he presently gaue his horse the spurs against the knight of the Tiger, they encountred together with so great force, as the Prince forsooke one of his Stirrups, but Arnolfe was sent to the earth with his héeles vpward.

This braue beginning caused the Emperor and Primaleon to reioyce, they iudging the strength of Arnolfe vnequall to be compared with the knight of the Tiger, who alighting from his horse, came and receiued Arnolfe at the point of the sword, he being not a little mooued at his sore fall, especially, hauing receiued such a foyle at his hands, who was allied to the knight of the Sauage man. The Combate beganne and continued with great fury, which moued the Emperour to these wordes. I perceiue now, that Arnolfe might haue vsed lesse boasting of his prowes, because he séemeth far vnable to make resistance against the knight that fighteth with him. It is reason good Father (aunswered Primaleon) that euill persons should be punished, that example may remaine to others, to beware how they meddle in such vnduttfull attempts. Arnolfe and the Knight of the Tiger so hacked one another, as their Armour witnessed their cruell rage and furie, especially the Gyant, whose flesh was so cut and mangled in many places▪ that the blood tricked apace downe his armour, the great losse whereof caused him giue ouer to take breath awhile, when he desired the knight of the Tiger to tell him his name: whereto he returned him this answer.

[Page] I tell thée Alnofe (said the Prince) I am a very néere kins­man to the knight of the Sauage man, hauing no lesse desire to end thy cursed life, then I haue to do the like to all such as thou art: Arnolfe replyed thus. I am in the place where of long I desired to be, and I assure thée, I receiue no small c [...]ntent­ment in dealing with thée: for if I be so happie as to depriue thée of life, I shal perswade my self to be reuenged on my greatest enemy. But if Fortune giue thée the power to vanquish me, I shall be likewise well content, because I shall the sooner visite Brauorant and his sonnes: to reuenge whose death, I will ei­ther end thy dayes with my sword, or offer vp my spirit here at thy féete.

The knight of the Tiger perceiuing him so obstinate, be­gan to charge him more roughly then as yet he had done, fol­lowing his intent so gallantly, as he neuer left him, till he tum­bled on the ground before him starke dead: when, taking off his Helmet, and séeing he had no life left in him, he knéeled downe, and thanked God for his victory.

Then came Primaleon, and other Princes, who conducted the Knight of the Tiger into the Empresse Chamber, where ta­king off his Helmet, he knéeled downe before the Emperour, who weeping for ioy to sée him, imbraced him in his armes very gratiously. Afterward he came and humbled himselfe before the Empresse, with kissing her hand, doing the like to Gridonia, and to the other Ladies: but when he came to his [...]ady and mi­stresse, such was his speech and behauiour, as it caused suspi­tion of their loue, to all then present.

CHAP. XXXIIII.
Of the talke which the Prince Palmerin had, with the Prin­cesse Polinarda his Lady.

SO greatly bus [...]ed was the Prince Palme­rin for certaine dayes, in visiting his friends, as he could not attaine the felicitie his heart desired, which tormented him secretly, though he bare it foorth with a good countenance: for neither could he find the meanes to speake with his Lady, nor with Dramuciana her Gentlewoman, that he might disco­uer his griefe to her. To the end therfore, that he might some­what remedy his affections, he made his case knowne to Sil­uian, who entring the Empresse Chamber, desired Dramacia­na to speake a word or two with her: and so well did Siluian handle the matter, that Dramaciana came to speake with the prince Palmerin, at her chamber window, which was vnder­neath her Ladies Chamber, and so shadowed by the Arches of stone towards the Garden, that one might very hardly perceiue him.

Palmerin receiued no lesse contentment, in speaking with Dramaciana, then he would if it had béene to his owne Lady, who made her Gentlewoman acquainted with all her secrete passions: wherevpon he iudging that the houre of his good for­tune could neuer come to passe, without the assistance of his Damosell, opened his whole minde vnto her, whereon when she had sufficiently scanned, very modestly she gaue him this answere.

You may well thinks (most famous and renowned Prince) that she who is so willing (as you perceiue me) to doe you ser­uice, would be loth to hide any thing from you, which might re­turne [Page] your benefite: and this you may perswade your selfe, that the dutifull good will I beare you, maketh me so hardy at this time, not knowing whether I shal be deceiued, or if you intend otherwise then I make account of. It is not méete my friend Dramaciana (answered Palmerin) neither doth the time so per­mit, that I should be such a shamelesse person, as to render in­turie for courtesie, neither would I wish you to iudge me such a one: wherefore (setting all such doubts aside) I desire you to certefie me, what end (as you thinke) will my long seruice come vnto: for the hope I haue receiued by your meanes, hath euer­more sustained me vntill this present, from the cruell extremi­ties, which else had beene sufficient to kill me.

He that knowes so well (said Dramaciana) how to declare his griefe, shall neuer make me beléeue that he can be depriued of good hape, considered also, that your noble behauiour cannot be blemished by fogetfulnesse. And this you may build vpon, that the Princesse Polinarda, hath béene as grieuously passio­ned during the time of your long absence, as you haue béene daily tormented with fearefull and displeasant thoughts, as you say you haue suffered. If these newes (answered Palmerin) ought to be sufficient to content me, that I pray you to wast no more time, but acquite your selfe of the promise it hath pleased you oftentimes to make me: for it is not conuenient that these words (whereby you doe so highly please me) should be changed into flattery and deceite, which might growe to such a seuere cause, as might be both the losse of me and my Lady: Well then (quoth Dramaciana) I haue already prouided the place where you may speake your minde to the Princesse my Ladd, which shalbe at a close and secret window, whereto you may come, as you enter the chamber by the Princesse Fleridaes garden. And I pray you behaue to your selfe in such order, as you shall not neede to speake together againe so secretly, because the place and the honor of the Princesse cannot agrée together, without occasion of your great danger. I may now perfectly behold (an­swered Palmorin) of what account your good will hath béene al­waies to me, which when I call to remēbrance, it causeth me to abandon all ye vnhappy occasions, wherwith I haue bin too long [Page] acquainted, and enuious despite can no more molest me, hauing your fauorable furtherance on my side. But when I consider ye swéet contentation I shall receiue, hauing the meanes to speak with my gracious mistresse, I find my selfe thrown into many doubtfull perplexities, in respect of my vnworthines & her ho­norable dignity: so that I shall be abashed, and feare yt her dis­pleasure will withhold me, from discoursing my long and ted­ous trauailes for her sake. Certainly sir Palmerin (aunswered Dramaciana) it were fond you should conceale the Princely déeds, wherwith so many renowmed Potentates haue bin ac­quainted: for if you haue bene so valiant and hardy, as to spend your time hitherto in trauailes of excéeding danger, & yet haue finished them all worthily, it is néedlesse you shold now dismay your self, presenting your person in the place, which is frée from any hazard or misfortune, And if you wil tel me, how this feare & affliction was so coupled together, I will tel you what remedy I can for it, but I would haue you to striue with your selfe, yt all feare may be out of your mind, when you come to reueale your secret thoughts to my Lady and mistres. Palmerin well noting the friendly words of Dramaciana, made knowne vnto her the very depth of his amorous afflictions: but ye knight drawing on a pace, & the talk of the prince (in a maner endles), they brake off their conference at that time, she shewing him the place, and ap­pointing him the houre to speake with his Lady. Palmerin ta­king leaue of Dramaciana, went to his chāber, where he spent the night in thinking on the talk had passed betwéen ye gentle­woman and himself: so the good hope he had through her means made his hart not so sorrowfull as it was wont to be, but som­what he behaued himselfe pleasantly remembring the heure of his felicitie drew néere. The time being come, which Drama­ciana had charged him to respect, he took his way to the appoin­ted place, and passing so couertly as he could through the gar­den, he entered the princesse Fleridaes chamber, leauing Siluian without, to giue him knowledge if any came to trouble him.

Palmerin walking vp and downe the chamber alone, ad­mitting many cogitations to his present attempt, he began to thinke on the greatest detriment that might happen to him, for he knew very well, that he came to Combate amorously [Page] with him, who had the power to depriue him of his wonted courage, and could driue him to so straite a point, as no refuge he might haue to flie vnto, but her Princely and fauourable bountie, which if he did not afford him, he could not make ac­count of any conquest. Then offering to approach the window, he espyed the Princesse coming, whose sight abashed him with such sudden feare, as he found his voyce too faint to speake, and the iudgement wherewith he had béene alwayes acquainted, was now so weake and simple, as one would haue taken him rather for a Ghost then a liuing man: the which she perceiuing and greatly pittying, withdrew her selfe a little from the win­dow, remembring the good counsell that Dramaciana had gi­uen him. At last he stepped to the window, which the princesse seeing, aduanced her selfe to him, when, after a little pausing, he entred into these speeches.

Madame, if this houre of good fortune would allow me the recompence, to end my long and laborsome trauailes, I should haue no occasion to find my selfe agréeued, for well I assure my selfe, that your presence hath the power to make me forget all the paines I haue suffered, during the time I haue borne the yoake of loue, to whom I haue alwayes remained faithfull and ab [...]dient, in regard of her fauour that brought me to this place, where I receiue vnspeakeable content, in requitall of my pas­sed afflictions in trauaile, which I esteeme of no importance, in comparison of the dignity now present before mine eyes, which is of so high and honourable authoritie, as I estéeme my fortune to excéede all others. But I could wish, that his gol­den face of beautie, which is so splendant to my drouping thoughts might neuer be shadowed with any cloud of misfor­tune, in that my ioy, honour, and felicitie hath euermore bene, in making especiall account of my excellencie, who I iudge will pitte to sée me liue in continuall seruitude. And since the extremitie of gréefe hath compelled me to take this bolde­nesse on me, I would desire you to thinke, I come yet with this regard: as well to auoyde any impeachment that might happen to blemish your renowme, as for the desire I haue that [Page] your gratious fauor might end my carefull and continuall ver­ations, which you must iudge to be great, if you consider all things past aduisedly. For such hath bene my dutifull re­membraunce of you, as my conceite did imagine any thing to your honour, I neither forsooke griefe, danger, trouble, or any misfortune whatsoeuer, (these hauing bene alwaies the fa­miliars of my life) that I might eternize your name for time of memory, reposing so good hope in your noble selfe, that the eud of my trauailes shall agrée with your gentle accep­tation, which I am enforced earnestly to request. But al­beit my labours haue bene great and gréeuons in your seruice, yet am I not so forgetfull of my selfe, but I repute this present gratious fauour of your excellencie, to be farre beyond that I haue done, and the rather, because I know your swéete and a­miable nature, will not seeme altogether left vnrewarded. Then if it come passe, that you make a friendly account of me, I shall finde my selfe so dutifull towards you, and my de­sire will be so comformable to yours, as looke what liketh you, will content me, and how you dispose of me, I caunot but ac­cept gratefully, such and so great is the content I receiue in the trauailes I haue done for your sake, as no winde can blast mee, if your bounty shaddowe me, nor any feare foyle me, if your fauour stand by me: to which wordes the Princesse thus answered.

I did not thinke (Sir Palmerin) that you would cause me to come into this place, to hold me with these friuolous & néede­lesse words, and I promise you but for reason, I should thinke my selfe so deceiued, as I could hardly withhold my selfe from leauing your company. The first is, because you were nou­rished and brought vp in this Court, being likewise my kinse­man friend, which hath made me the more willing to re­gard your trauailes. The other to satisfie the earnest intrea­tie of Dramaciana, to whom I perceiue you are a greater friend then to me: but seeing the fault is in mee, I will ra­ther blame mine owne timeritie then you, though you séeke to satisfie your desire, without any consideration of my honour, whereby you let me sufficiently vnderstand, what smal regard [Page] you haue of the danger, wherein you may fall sooner then you thinke for, only through your vnaduisednesse. I cannot deny, but I am greatly indebted to you, yet in no such déepe summe, but I can easily come forth of it, without any preiudice to my renowme: for I do not estéeme it reasonable, to recompence your noble seruice with mine owne disaduantage, because the good fame and commendation you haue gotten, may content you, if you haue no other reward. But if your good will be so great towards me, as by your spéeches you séeme to make it, it is méet for you to make it known to the Emperor your Grand­father and mine, as also to the Prince Primaleon my Father, not doubting but they will be very willing to match vs both together, as for me, I shall estéeme it the greatest good fortune that may happen to me, hauing gained the loue and liking of you, whose prowesse and Princely desertes, are worthy most gratious estimation. Thus if consent knit vp the long desire of vs both, we may ioyne in one agréement of gladnesse: and this I prgy you to accept as my answer, for without their good wils, I neither may nor can accord vnto you.

I promise you Madame (aunswered Palmerin) it is very hard for me to receiue contentment in their commending my déedes, whom I cannot regard or make any account off, and if I should séeme to refuse to go to the Emperour and the Prince Primaleon, I might be thought very vnwise: but first I would be perswaded thorowly of your good will, which is the princi­pall in this action. And if it so fall out, that they will not con­sent vpon the words I shall vse to them: yet when I am re­solued of your acceptation, I shall take the boldnesse on me (sée­ing time and place so seruing) to let them vnderstand our sure and inui [...]lable consent and loyalty together.

And albeit my fond timeritie vsed towardes you, may cause you iudge me farre vnable to speake with such a [...]dacitie in this cause, I would haue you yet this to thinke on me now that the faithfull affection, wherewith I haue continually ser­ued you, will compell me enter in this boldnesse to them, as tell you. And if they doe [...]oi séeme to leane me to be conten­ted, by such laudable recompence as I may receiue at others [Page] handes, it is the regard they haue of my trauailes and aduen­tures, daily vsed in the honour of your name, and no other, ma­keth me thinke to deserue this great fauour. But if your nature cannot then agrée, when they would be loth I should be any o­therwise rewarded, I must and will content my selfe to obey your pleasure, yet shall I finde my selfe deceiued in the opini­on I haue hitherto conceiued, in that to be depriued of the pre­sence of his Lady, is the chiefest misfortune that can happen to a faithfull Louer.

What then is left to comfort such a carefull minde? None but this, that the absent friend hath this commoditie, to fit and rip vp many sad and sorrowfull discourses, wherewith he may chase away the remembrace of their deceytes, whose presence was dearer to him then life it selfe. But yet such is the custome of Loue, to mingle among the sharpest conflicts some hope: If it be but onely to swéeten their mouthes a little with some de­lightfull taste, who waste their time in ieast and dalliance, vn­der his amorous Ensigne. And with this gay foyle, he graceth his Copper for curant Gold, being the only meane to shaddow his deceitfull dealings: yet a number that spend their liues in his seruice, gaine such knowledge of his trumperie, as in the end they are glad to forsake him. Which I dare not take the hardinesse on me to doe, for that I am so surely bound to him as when I shall leaue him, I desire to be loued of none but you, in regard of whose good will, I haue thrust my selfe into all dan­gers, whatsoeuer returning victor rather by the aide of your in­comparable beautie, then by the force or valour that remain [...] in my selfe: there pausing, she replied in this manner. I did nor thinke (Syr Palmerin) to receiue any such answere for the words I gaue you, wherefore you make me iudge that they are of no estimation at all with you.

But since I perceiue that loue hath so fondly blinded you, as he will not suffer you to sée, the more then modest readi­nesse in me to pleasure you, I am content to giue you yet a further and greater assurance of me: for▪ I would not that such a noble and renowned Prince as you are, should de­part from me offended or iniured, perswading my selfe that [Page] you will not séeme to enterprise any thing, whereby but a mo­tion of impeachment may come to mine honour, for if you did, I should thinke very hardly of the diligent seruice you haue done to me all this while.

Therefore once againe I humbly intreate you, to speake to the Emperour, and Primaleon my Father, to knowe the estate of their good willes, whereof if you should faile, I giue you perfect assurance of mine: if this answere (which truely du­tie accounteth but bad obedience to my superiours) wil not suf­fice you, I will verily perswade my selfe, that the loue you séeme to beare me, is rather to disgrace, then preserue my ho­nour.

If now swéete Madame (answered Palmerin) I refuse to doe as you aduise me, it were but reason you should thrust me foorth of your seruice, knowing (as I doe) that the ouerthrow of my blisse, and erecting me to happinesse, consisteth duely in my gratious Mistresse. Thus concluding, he tooke her by the hand, which he kissed a number of times together, not without the expence of many a salt teare and reking sighes, which made the Princesse blush and grieue at inwardly, pittying to sée the great humilitie of the Prince Palmerin, to whom she betro­thed her selfe in the presence of the Princesse of Thrace and Dramaciana (who gaue him counsell to vse the matter in that order, & by whose meanes Polinarda so soone contented.) They being altogether at the windowe, the matter was knit fast for the more assurance, and there did Palmerin kéepe them com­pany all that day, and must part of the night, till pittying to sée [...] lady stand so long, compelled him to take his leaue for that time.

CHAP. XXXV.
How certaine Knights arriued at the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, who were aduertised how the Turks had proui­ded a great Armie, to come and besiege Constantinople.

DVring the the time this great ioy was in the Court of Constantinople, for the comming of the prince Palmerin, the Em­perour had tidings brought him, how the Prince Albayzar had leuied a great and mighty Armie, to come and besiege the Cittie, and assure the Messenger, that the Lord (who was the Soldane Bellagris) was preparing him­selfe in a readinesse to come and aide him.

The Emperour being at this time ouercharged with age, found himselfe farre vnable to deale in these affaires, the con­sideration whereof did not a little displease him. Neuerthelesse he fayled not to make prouision (as wisedome willed) to enter­taine the enemy, whereupon, he writ to the Soldane Bella­gris, sending him heartie thankes for the good forwardnesse h [...] saw in him, especially in a time so néedfull, and when the mes­senger to the Soldane was dispatched, the Emperour sent pre­sently to informe of these newes, Arnedes the King of France his Sonne in law, Recinde the king of Spaine, Don Edward the Prince of England, the Emperour Vernar of Allemaigne, Maiortes, and many others.

The Armie of the Turkes was no sooner heard of, but the Knights who followed their noble aduentures) returned to Constantinople, knowing they shuld make better trial of their valour there, then in any other places: and such was the rumour [Page] spread abroad to the Turks intention, as in short time the Ci­tie of Constantinople was furnished with many noble and re­doubted knights, where aduentures was presented to them day by day: but the Emperour would not suffer them to pur­sue after such occasions, (because they were nothing else but deceite and villany) wayting still for the time when he should be assaulted by Albayzar, who was now setting forward on the Seas, being accompanyed with diuers approoued knights at armes, as also a number of cruell and bloody minded Gi­ants, intending to make a generall spoyle of all the Emperors Dominions.

But till we haue better occassion, we will leaue them a while, and returne to the Prince Palmerin, who (during the brute of the Turkes Army) was aduertised of the death of Sa­trafort, the gouernor of the Perillous Isle, being taken by Tro­folant the Fearefull, who was descended to the giants kindred. And as it is rehearsed in the first volume of this History, that Trafolant was vanquished in the Tournament by the Prince Florendos, and had the like mishap the day following, by the prowesse of the Knight of the Sauage man, who guarded the shéeld of the Palme Tree, in the forrest of the Cleere Fountain which the Damosell from the Sage Aliart brought to the Em­perour Palmerin, that he might deliuer it to the Knight his Nephew, who had woone the honour of the day in the Tour­nament.

It was likewise his fortune after, when he trauailed to the Castle of the Giant Almaroll, to be vanquished there by the Prince Florendos, who guarded the shéeld of the faire Mi­ragarda: and returning thence, he met with the Damoselles Knight, when, offering to take one of his Ladies from him, they fell to the Combate, and in the end was likewise vanqui­shed. The conceit of his so many and sundry foyles, and all by the Knights of the Emperours Court, caused him to deuise by what meanes he might worke some iniurie to them that belonged to the Emperour, in respect he was so seuerely bent against them, as he would take vpon him to reuenge the death of Calfurnien and his brethren.

[Page] But to the ende he might the better execute his treacherous enterprise, hée tooke his way to the Profound Isle, thinking there to inuent some treason by the aide of Collambra: but his intent was there disapointed, for it was told him, that she was brought to the Emperours Court of Greece. Then he deter­mined to goe visit the Perillous Isle, being accompanied with two Knights that were his kinsemen, with whom he knewe well how to dissemble the treason on his stomacke: and Satra­fort thinking them to be of the Emperours Court of Constan­tinople, entertained them very louingly into his Castle, where when they had soiourned for certaine daies, they murthered Sa­trafort and all his houshold.

But the pleasure of this victorie was very short to them, for Argentao the gouernour of the Profound Isle, came by a secret wile suddenly on them with his power, and taking Trofolant in the Forrest, sent him presently to the Emperours Court: where was no little ioy of his comming, in that he saued Pal­merin a iourney, who was taking his leaue of his friendes, be­cause he would goe to take the Traitors that had done such villanie.

Trofolant was condemned by the lawe, and publiely exe­cuted, according as his trecherous dealings deserued: and Argentao was honourably recompenced, that he might haue the better occasion to be carefull and circumspect in his office. So soone as Trofolant was put to death, the Sage Aliart arri­ued at the Court of Constantinople, whose presence gaue grea­ter assurance to the Emperour and his Knightes, and he gaue them heartie thankes, in that they were so ready to goe reco­uer the Perillous Isle. After the Sage Aliart, there came to the Court, the Prince Floraman, Albanis of Frieze, Reccamon, Leyman of Burgunuy, beside many other princes and knights, who had euery one forsaken their seuerall countries, to assist the Emperour of Constantinople with their aide, because they had heard of the Turks preparation.

The very same day was tydings brought to the Court, how Fredericke the king of England was dead, which newes caused [Page] [...]o small griefe among the Princes, especially to the Emperour himselfe, who being as aged as King Fredericke, was iudged himselfe not of long continuance behind him, in that this was a speciall president for him to regard, King Fredericke being one he made most chiefe and high account of. Prince Edward was then crowned King of England, to the great ioy of all his subiects, he being such a vertuous and magnanimous Prince: and the funerals of king Frederick was solemnized in Greece, with very great state, their Beacons burning, and Bonfires made through the whole Empire, according as it was the cu­stome in that Countrey.

CHAP. XXXVI.
Of an aduenture which happened (during the troubles at Constantinople) in the Realme of France, and after what manner it chanced.

THe History reporteth that certaine Ladies in the Realme of France, enuying the re­nowned of Polinarda of Greece, Miragar­da of Spaine, and Leonarda of Thrace, (whose beauties defaced greatly the La­dies in all other Countries) began to com­plaine very much on the French knightes, that either by the want of courage, or their little regard of loue, their beauties remained vnknowne in other Realmes, Coun­tries, and Prouinces.

Vpon this occasion they found themselues somewhat agrée­ued, and to the end they would remedie the cause, foure La­dies of the king of France his Court (thinking to excell all other in beauties) enterprised to establish an aduenture, to mooue the mindes of many Knights to come endure their triall, against such as would maintaine their beauties. [Page] The first of these Ladies was called Mansia, the second Te­lanfia, the third Latrania, and tge fourth Torsia, each of them hauing a Castle called after their owne names, to the end that those knights who desired to sée them, should come to the Ca­stles where they remained.

Many and sundry strange knights trauailed to these Ca­stles, and shewed such rare and incredible prowesse, that the renowme of these foure Castles shall neuer be forgotten: as you may at this day yet behold in France, where the Castles of these foure Ladies are yet honoured with most speciall esti­mation.

These foure Ladies being couetous of their owne glory, would know which of them was aduantaged in beautie a­boue the other. Telansia serued the Princesse Graciana, the second, daughter to Arnedes king of France, hauing such an opinion in her selfe, as she thought she excéeded all the Ladies in the world in beautie, Mansia, Latrania, and Torsia, who ser­ued the Quéene, were forged in the same stampe with Telan­sia: but Mansia held her selfe of greater reputation then all the other, because she was higher in the kings fauour.

It came so to passe, that thrée of these Ladies were married so soone as they beganne this aduenture, which neuerthelesse, they would haue continue still, fearing least any other La­dies should take the preheminence aboue them. Torsia, who remained vnmarried, perswaded her selfe to excéede the other thrée: in briefe, these Ladies were so earnest in their intents, and so willing to sée the issue thereof, as they concluded to en­tertaine no knight into their seruice, before his fortune serued him to sée them all, for then afterward he might the better sub­mit himselfe in obeysance to her, whom he iudged the cheefest in his affection.

Moreouer, they ordained that the knight should first of all binde himselfe, to endure the Combatte against foure ser­uants to any other Ladie, the one after the other: and if hée proued so fortunate as to vanquish them, he should then bée called her Knight, for whom he had fought the combate. Be­side, this knight should not be licenced to goe séeke aduentures [Page] afterward in any strange Countrey, because his Lady remain­ned the victoresse, carrying the true title of supreame beautie. These foure Ladies were agréed to establish this aduenture, in the same manner I haue told you, that their beauty might purchase like commendation as the princesse Miragardaes did, by the noble triall of her shield, which was kept at the Castle of Almaroll.

The King of France his Sonnes (who were accounted the most puissant at Armes in all that realme) because their affec­tions were placed else where, made no account of this aduen­ture, neither Germaine of Orleance, because his minde was likewise at Constantinople. The other French knights remai­ned doubtfull to proue this aduenture, remembring with what conditions these Ladies would be serued. As for them that were so hardy to venture, they hauing seene the beautie of the first, were so caught captiue, that they promised to endure the hardest perill in obtaining her loue. But when they had séene the second Lady, they presently committed the first to forget­fulnesse, making the same promise, that they would loose them selues to purchase her: then looking on the third, their wittes were so busied, and their thoughts were so laboured, as then none but she was faire in their iudgements. At length, when they came to see the fourth swéete and delicate face, all the o­ther thrée were counterfeit in respect of her, and they serued but as foyles to set her beauties out to sale: so that from the first to the last, their opinions were so variable, and their mindes so rauished in contemplating them all, as not forcing what might happen to them, either trouble, miserie, daunger, or death it selfe, they threwe themselues into the face of Fortune. And many Knightes that had béene vanquished by his prowesse, who defended so nobly the Shield of Miragarda, did yet aduen­ture boldly to trie this enterprise: but they could not vanquish the foure Knights these Ladies presented them, who tooke vp­on them to be the seruants of any Lady, so that this aduenture continued a long time, before that any of these Ladies could vaunt of the conquest.

And I assure you, the renowne of this famous enterprise, [Page] was so blazed abroad in all places, as the Knights trauailed to this place early, and laboured very earnestly to deserue the fa­uour of these foure Ladies.

The Prince Floraman of Sardignia trauailing through the Realme of France, intending to goe offer his aide to the Em­peror of Constantinople, met with a damosel, as he entred in­to a Forrest, she hauing in her company two other Damosels, and because she was desirous, that the Prince of Sardignia, should behold her beautie, she tooke off her maske, and gaue it to one of the Damoselles. Floroman who trauailed continu­ally mourning in his spirit, for the losse of faire Altea, his La­dy, passed on giuing them no salutation: which when they per­ceiued, one of them followed him, and spake vnto him in this manner.

I would know (sir knight) what you meane, to passe so by these Ladies, offering no signe of courtesie or salutation? per­haps you did not sée my Lady as you passed by, which may at this time well serue to excuse you. And because your sadnesse maketh my Lady to think, that your heart is passioned or mo­ued by some occasion, she desireth you to take your lodging [...]or this night: in one of her Castles not far hence, where she will not faile to entertaine you, in the most gratious manner shée can deuise: to which words the Prince Floraman thus answe­red. Faire Damosell, if I haue bin any thing forgetfull towards your Lady, I humbly desire her to pardon me: for she may per­swade her selfe, that not seeing her, I passed by, without vsing any courtesie, rather then by any other occasion.

So turning his horse, he ridde with the Damosell after her Lady, who was entred into her Castle, before Floraman had the power to ouertake her, whereat he was greatly agréeued: and comming to the Damosell that brought him thither, he presently entred into these spéeches.

I pray you (faire Gentlewoman) tell mée the name of this Castle, which in my iudgement séemeth one of the fayrest that I haue seene in all my li [...]e: and I pray you, what Lady was that, which entered in ere I could shew her my dutie?

[Page] The Castle (answered the Damosell) is farre more beau­tifull within, then this sumptuous building which you sée with­out, and I assure you, the knight hath good occasion to reioyce, that can passe by here without some aduenture happen to him. But because you may account my words of truth, and that it is impossible for you to depart hence without triall of your pro­wesse, I espie thrée knights vnder the gréene trées on your left hand, who will not presume so néere this Castle, but they haue some further meaning. As for the Castle, it is called the Castle of Latrinia, which is the Ladies name whom you saw to en­ter, on whose behalfe many knights put themselues in danger, agtinst them that de [...]end thrée other Ladyes of the French Court, onely being in contention for their beauttie. But to the end you may giue the sounder iudgement in this case, and be the more earnest in trying the Combate, on the behalfe of the beautie of my Ladie Latriana, I will worke the meanes that you shall sée her: and if it come to passe that you be afterward vanquished, you may the better know, whether it be by your owne imbecilitie, or the imperfection of her beautie for whom you enter the Combate: Floraman returned her this aun­swere.

I haue bene alwayes so vnfortunate (faire Damosell) in maintaining the like enterprises, that I will not now make it daintie inhazarding the inconstance of flattering Fortune. I haue often heard of Madame Latrinia, and I take her to be one of the foure Ladies of this Realme, who excéede all the other in soueraigntie of beautie: I could wish (i [...]ti were pos­sible so good hap might come to me) to be entertained into her gratious seruice, but the greater part who are giuen on the o­ther side, maketh me to be doubtfull herein, according as it is permitted to the fréedome of a mans will.

As the Damosell and Floraman continued this talke, they came before the Castle, an as they offred to passe on, these thrée knights stepped before them, vsing these words to the Prince Floraman. We would know Sir knight, if you be deter­mined to imploy your selfe on the behalfe of any of the foure French Ladies, because that each of vs, being no seruant to [Page] her whose cause you maintaine, shall then be constrained to enter the Combate with you. Sir (answered Floraman) I may not lawfully refuse the Combate, because I haue not séene any of these foure Ladies: one of the thrée Knights replied to him againe thus.

If it be so Sir, that as yet you haue not séene these Ladies, you shall be suffered to enter the Castle, where you may con­template the beauty of Latrania: and if it chaunce you to re­maine affectionate to her, as many other haue done before you, we desire you not to enter her seruice, because you may so shun the danger of the Combate. The Knight laying his hand vpon one of his companions, spake thus to Floraman. Her whom I hold my honour by, they that haue the sight of them all foure, would chuse my Lady Mansia for his Mistresse: then another of them saide. And my selfe with this Knight, wee are alto­gither addicted to the seruice of Telansia, and for this cause we abide in this place, to sée if any Knight that holdeth on the other part, dare be so bold as to come into this place, that wée may try our fortunes, in gaining the recompence the Ladies haue ordained for him, who shall be so happy as to remaine victor.

Floraman (who was greatly enflamed towards these La­dies, remembring still the losse of his fuire Altea) entred the castle, where Latrania receiued him very gratiously, he excu­sing himselfe towards her, because he did not his dutie to her as she passed by him in the Forrest: and I assure you, Flora­man iudged the Lady of the Castle so faire, as hee could wil­lingly haue offered himselfe to sustaine her quarrell, but that he feared least he should be reputed vnfaithfull, vnto his best beloued Altea.

There he stayed in the Castle till the morning, when hée would haue departed thence, the Lady vnwilling to see him, she was so much offended that he had not offered to maintaine her beautie. Vpon this, Floraman went foorth to the thrée Knights, when one of them came vnto him, and demanded if the beauty of Madame Latrania, had [...]onne any power ouer him: to whom he answered, No.

[Page] Certainly, said the Knight, I greatly desire to deale with thée, that I may giue due correction to thy proud ingratitude. Gentlemen (answere Floraman) I pray you put your selues in a readines, to reuenge the shame, which you say I haue done to Madame Latrania, whom I may as well serue as you, be­cause I haue better knowledge of her deserts then you haue: ne­uerthelesse, such is my humor at this present, as I dare not ad­uenture my selfe on her behalfe.

Then I entend (saide the Knight) to make you knowe the offence you haue done vnto her. And so he gaue his horse the spurres against Floraman, who (albeit in the Ioust he lost one of his Stirroppes) encountred the Knight so valiantly, as hee sent him to the ground headlong, so astonished, as he could not tell where he was. Which the other two perceiuing, they desi­red him likewise to runne with them: Since my Lance is yet whole and sound (answered Floraman) I am content to doe you so much fauour. Then he ran against the second Knight, seruing him like as he had done the first, and the third came af­ter to kéepe them company.

The first knight being offended that hee was so vnhorsed, desired Floraman to strike halfe a dozen blowes with him, to the end he might amend the foile he receiued in the Ioust. The Prince of Sardignia séeing no excuse would perswade the knight, alighted from his horse, and hauing drawn his sword, he dealt so nobly with him, as in short time he perceiued what great dishonr he gained, in prouing his valour against him: for he continued so roughly in the fight, as the knight was compel­led to step aside to take a breathing, which made Floraman giue him these words.

I beléeue sir knight, you iudge me as sufficient to serue La­trania as your selfe is. No truely (saide the Knight) for it is not your force, but the beautie of the other, to whom she may no way equall her selfe, that hath brought me into this daun­gerous estate. I am very well content (answered Floraman) to heare you say so much, but the greater aduantage should I haue, if your Lady were present to heare you: and I assure you, she hath good occasion to accept well of you, for that you [Page] haue spoken as became a man greatly affected to her.

Then beginning afresh againe, the Knight (though very faintly) defended himselfe so well as he could. Latrania lea­ning in one of the windowes of the Castle, seeing the great daunger whereinto the Knight was brought, came downe to the place where they fought the Combate: and being come be­fore the Prince Floraman, she desired him to saue the Knightes life, whereto (at her request) he willingly consented, speaking to her in this manner.

I would gladly to honour you the more, end the Combate, but because you thinke it not so conuenient, the Knight may thinke himselfe highly beholding to you, for that you haue sa­ued his life, which I was thorowly intended hee should loose, séeing the small regard he made of you, as your selfe did heare, when I let him rest himselfe.

Latrania gaue him very honourable thanks, and returning into her Castle, she grieued excéedingly, that this good and har­dy Knight could not thinke so well of her, as to be her Champi­on in her cause.

Floraman willed the Knight to tell him his name. I pro­mise you (answered the Knight) I entend nothing lesse, for our Combate was hindred by the Lady, to whom you haue giuen greater aduantage thereof then to me. Thou hast reason (said Floraman) to vse thy selfe thus, for that one ought not to be knowne in these affaires, especially, hauing receiued his shame in the presence of one of these Ladies. So, taking his leaue of the other Knights, he rid away presently, they being very desi­rous to haue knowne what and who he was.

CHAP. XXXVII.
Of that which hapned to certaine other knights, who would proue the aduenture of these foure Ladies.

IN the mean while the French Court kept at the Cittie of Parris, many knights tooke pleasure to come thither, the most part whereof, were the affectionate seruants of these foure Ladyes, and there they would practise Iousts, combats, and other honest pastimes such as amorous persons are wont to take delight in. But I assure you, the French men them­selues were not so forward in affectiō, for that they were day­ly in the presence of these Ladies: neuerthelesse, the strange knights) whom loue conducted thither to see them) felt those se­cret and sundry assaults, which he enforceth them to endure, who yéeld themselues obedient to his lawes.

These foure Ladies were not a little prowde, to see them­selues so estéemed, but the knights gaue themselues most on Torsiaes side, because she was not in the Company of the o­ther, who vsed with their beautie, very gratious entertaine­ment towards their knights, that they might vse them with the greater regard. But Torsia (who iudged her selfe more worthy then the other) she was very squemish and disdaine­full, not making account of the trauailes which the Knightes endured for her sake, thereby to make her beautie the more ho­noured and extolled: for her selfe made so great estimation thereof, as she iudged that those knights, who aduentured on her behalfe, were greatly honoured by making proofe of their valor, in defence of her beautie, and this was the cause she was lesse serued of the French knights, then of other.

[Page] But the strange knights, they gaue themselues altogether to her seruice, desiring to trie fortune, and knowing there was no victorie more noble, then that which was most doubtfull in the obtaining. While the knights of the French Court de­lighted themselues to behold, these newcome louers, Albay­zar (who came to the castle of Almaroll, where he robbed Dra­musiande of the Princesse Miragardaes sheeld) passed by Paris, desiring to soiorne there for the space of two dayes, at the end whereof he departed thence, for he would not enter the Com­bate with such, as would praise these Ladies aboue the Prin­cesse of Targiana. Yet he returned againe to the Court, and would sée these foure Ladies before she went, he not estéeming the knights two Daughters, Florenda and Graciana, whose courtesie did well deserue, that the knight should enterprise something to their honour, for they were as beautifull as these other foure Ladies, among whom Albayzar gaue the praise to Torsia, so that her beautie best contented him, which was the cause, that in all places where he came, he praysed her aboue the other thrée.

Albeit séeing the French knight were so affected to these la­dies, as they made no occount of his swéete friend Targiana, he trauailed thence to Constantinople: where he enterprised to maintaine against the knights of the Emperours Court, that tge Princesse Targiana excelled in beautie, all the Ladyep and Damosels in the world.

At the same time Palmerin of England, and the prince Flo­rendos, passed by the French Court, and staying there, they had so great desire to approoue themselues against Albayzar. Dramusiande likewise passed by soone after, being very willing to sée these foure Ladies i but the intent he had against Albay­zar, would not suffer him to goe hither. And I assure you, had it not beene for the enterprise of Albayzar, this aduenture in France had bene as worthy of commendation, as the noble prowesse shewen at the Castle of Dramusiande in England, and that of Miragarda in Spaine.

While many Knight trauailed to sée the Prince Albay­zar, Pompides, and Blandidon (who iudged themselues to be [Page] Brethren) came to the Court of France, where they thought so well of the beautie of these Ladies, as (setting all other re­membrance of loue aside) they t [...]ied the Combate, wherein their liues were brought to great danger.

These two knights renowned among them that stayed in the French Court, were both of them so inueigled with the beautie of Torsia, as they discoursed to each other their in­tents▪ beganne to mallice one another cruelly: whereby they shewed the small iudgement of them, who called Loue by the [...], seeing that so many misfortunes tooke their o­riginall by him.

Pompides conquered with the onely regard of Torsia, séeing that Blandidon would not giue him place by entreatance, con­cluded to trie the Combate with him: agréeing thus betwéene themselues that hee that was the conquerer, should remaine there to defend the Ladies beautie. Blandidon, who was as desirous as he could, to purchase the acceptable fauour of Tor­sia, agréed to enter the Combate, vnder the same condition which Pompides opposed: and that these two Knights might the sooner execute their willes, they came and humbled them­selues before the Quéene, in whose presence Pompides spake in this manner to Torsia.

Madame, this knight and I who are brethren, and so con­quered by the grace and beautie wherewith you are accompa­nied, as notwithstanding, both nature and friendship) we in­tend to make proofe at armes, which of vs twaine shall be iud­ged worthy to be receiued in your seruice: desiring you hum­bly not to be offended at what we haue enterprised, and that you would vouchsafe to entertaine him for your seruant, whom fortune shall fauour in atchieuing the victory.

Great and sudden admiration was among them all, hearing the braue attempts of these two Knights, but especially, the other thrée Ladies, who séeing Torsia so highly preferred, be­ganne to be dismayed and changed their colour: which Tor­sia dissembling, although shee had no knowledge of their secret enuie, was iocond and pleasant to her selfe as could be, then casting her eyes on the Quéene, to whom she made signe [Page] as though she would answer, she spake to Pompides and Blan­didon in this manner.

It may be séene by you (Gentlemen) that the merits of these thrée Ladies, hath not as yet gained any knowledge of your valour, séeing you enterprise to hazard your selues together for one selfe-thing: wherefore I admonish you, that it is méete you should defend the cause one after another, for otherwise you goe contrary to our determinations, and then he that can be so happy to vanquish the knights, that come on the behalfe of these other Ladies, shall be iudged worthy of that honourable reward, méete for such a famous and noble con­querour.

These two Knightes were indifferently satisfied with the answere of Torsi [...], wherevpon many knights that desired to sée her, went and presented themselues in the field. The first of them was Rupert Rosselin, a knight of good estimation, who maintained the quarrell of Telancia: Brician of Rochfort, who loued Mansia, and the Countie Brialte, the affectionate seruant to Latrania.

Pomdides and Blandidon came no sooner into the Parke, but they entred both together, because Torsia had not declared which of them should enter first, to maintaine her beautie a­gainst the other Knights: therefore they desired the Quéene, that it might please her to vnderstand the will of Torsia, who ordained that he which was first disclosed to his companion, should enter first into the field. Then Blandidon (who was discouered at the beginning to Pompides) had the meane to trie himselfe first: wherefore, without any more tarying, he entred the middest of the field, at the entrance whereof, the Ladies were placed very stately. Florenda and Graciana she­wed themselues maruellous rich in beautie: but they were no­thing pleasant, because neuer a knight would estéeme of them in his prowesse. Brician of Rochfort, who prepared himselfe first to encounter with Blandidon, regarding Mansia (whom he iudged worthy of the chiefest victorie (spake somewhat an­angrily to himselfe thus.

Faire mistres, I may thinke this enterprise not worthy to be [Page] presented before you: yet somewhat doe I content my selfe, who remaining victor, you will not disdaine to call me your seruant: Blandidon who earnestly desired to witnesse his bountie in the presence of Torsia, contemplated her in his spi­rit thus.

I doe not demand (Madome) any fauour at your hands for receiuing now such a benefit of you, I shall not purchase any glory in conquering my enemy. Then ran he couragiously a­gainst Brician of Rochfort, and encounted with him so braue­ly, as their Launces flew vp in pieces, yet neither of them in danger to be vnhorsed: which Brician perceiuig (who was reputed for a good Knight at armes, hée desired Blandidon to breake once more with him, to which request he made no refu­sall, but ran the second time, and met Brician with such force, as he was constrained to forsake his stirrops, & cast his armes about the necke of his horse, to saue himselfe from falling to the ground, and Blandidon was cast on the croupper of his horse. After these two knights had taken their seates againe, they prepared themselues with the third Staffe, which was discharged by Brician so strongly, as his horse and himselfe tumbled on the ground and Blandidon was in danger to haue borne him company. But he séeing his enemy had drawne his sword, alighted from his horse to receiue him: and I assure you their Combate was estéemed one of the most dangerous that euer was séene in that Countrey.

Brician of Rochfort, desirous that his mistresse Mansia shold perceiue how willing he was to purchase her loue, and Blandi­don, vanquished with the beauty of her, who caused him to ha­zard so great danger: redoubled their strokes so fiercely vpon one another, as at length Brician, sore weakened in fight, and depriued of the beauty of his Lady, fell downe to the ground. Blandidon presently tooke off his Helet, and made offer to part his head from his shoulders, except he would confesse Tor­sia to excell the other three in beauty: but while Brician lay in this extremity, one of the Maidens of honour cried to Blandi­don, that the Ladies adiudged him the victory euer Brician of Rochfort, who was caried to his lodging, & Blandidon hauing [Page] lost very much blood by the wounds he receiued, was com­pelled to withdraw himselfe, hauing not the power to endure what he had attempted. For he that should remaine victor, ought to maintaine the combat for the space of one day, against the other knight that came, and the vanquisher (if they were so fortunate) they should be bound (being in any likely disposi­tion) to beginne the Combate afresh against the other three Knights whom he should subdue, before he might haue the praise of the victorie.

Pompides being sorry to sée Blandidon so wounded, was (neuerthelesse) glad, that the honour of the day happened to his side, and vpon this he perswaded himselfe, that the Ladies ser­uice would fall to his share. The next day following, he fayled not to present himselfe in the field, where he had not long stayed, before Rupert Rasselin entered, being in blacke armour crosse strickt with little fillets of Gold, and his Shield (which was of the Indian colour) the God was figured, who brought all other vnder his obeysance. This knight was mounted on a goodly roane Courser, and so soone as he heheld Telansia, who was very faire, and of whom he was greatly affectionate, he spake to himselfe in this manner.

Who is hee that either can or may iniurie mée, hauing your séemely selfe before me? Therefore I pray you good Madame, that you would vouchsafe to accept his loyal heart, who wil ne­uer reefuse to doo you seruice, especially, if he may know in what to pleasure you: and perswade your selfe, that I will soone dis­countenance this Knight, who maintained the beautie of Tor­sia, to excell yours. Pompides knowing well by the behauiour of Rupert Rosselin, the little content this poore Louer receyued beholding the beautie of Telansia: but he was somewhat of­fended, that Torsia was not as yet come to the place where the combate should be fought, and being passioned for this cause, he spake to Rosselin in this order

Thou must remember knight, that thou art not come hither to waste the time in contēplating of her beautie, who transfor­meth thée from all sense and reason. I perceiue well (answered Rosselin) that Torsia reposeth but little hope in your valour, [Page] because she disdaineth to honour you with his presence. You are so full of words (said Pompides) that if I should spend the time in giuing eare to you, the day would soone be gone, with­out trying either the Ioust or combate. So, without any more words, he ran against Rosselin, encountring him in the mid­dest of the carrire, so worthily, and very hardly he recouered himselfe from falling, Pompides being nothing at all mooued. Rosselin tooke a new staffe, wherewith he tryed his Fortune the second time, when, Pompides méeting him directly, brake his staffe nobly on him, and comming together, their Horses fought so one with another, as Pompides Horse (which was not of such strength as the other) fel down in vnder his master: which Rosselin perceiuing, aduanced himselfe to him, but he had recouered himselfe, and stood ready to receiue him at the point of the sword. Then they buckled together, and the com­bat was so cruell betwéen them, as in short time the flesh was séene through Rosselins armour: but he made semblance as though he were nothing moued, because he would not haue his Ladies make any doubt of his prowesse, and so earnestly he followed his intent, that Pompides had as small aduantage as himselfe. Neuerthelesse, his heart was more liuely, and himselfe more nimble and quicke then Rossolin, who had suf­fered so many sharpe strokes, and was so weake and wearie, as he was enforced to intreate Pompides to let him take a little rest, I am content (answered Pompides) to let you pause a while, to the end you may the better trauaile your selfe, in beholding the beautie of Telansia: considered also, the small fa­uour that Torsia bestowes on me, cannot hinder me from van­quishing of you. It is moreouer séene (said Rosselin) that it is great danger to fight against men depriued of hope, but whē one remaineth conqueror ouer such persons, the honour of the victory giueth them the larger contentment. When he had spoken what pleased him, Pompides and he beganne to com­bate againe, hacking and hewing one another so cruelly, as within a while Rosselin was so sore laboured, as he was alto­gether vnable to harme his enemy. Pompides seeing himselfe in but little better estate then Rosselin, and doubting least the [Page] Combate would endure too long, he caught him in his armes, and threw him violently against the ground, being hardly a­ble to sustaine himselfe from falling on him: but the remem­brance of the victory made him take the more courage, where­vpon he made proffer to cut off the head of Rosselin, which the Ladies would not agrée vnto. Then was Rosselin caried foorth of the fielde very dangerously wounded, and Pompides (for the greater honour) was conducted to the Chamber where Blan­didon lay, where Chirugions looked dillingently to their wounds, they being now as great friendes as euer they were, hauing the one of them as good assurance of Torsiaes fauour, as the other.

The King himselfe came very louingly to visite them, and after he had knowledge of them, he was greatly offended that they had not béene knowne before him in his Court: but the Knights excused themselues by their Ladies, whose beauties caused them to trauaile thither, alwayes desiring to be vn­knowne: The Queene was very carefull to haue them well re­garded, during the time they remained there in the Court: but after they were in good state of health, they humbly tooke their leaue of the King, the Queene, and Madame Torsia, Blandi­don taking his way to Constantinople, and Pompides into Scotland, where he espoused the Princesse Armisia, according as I haue declared already to you. For you shall vnderstand that this French aduenture continued, from the time that Al­bayzar shewed his prowesse in Constantinople, hauing in his custody the Princesse Miragardaes Shield, vntill the instant that the Knight of the Sauage man (accompanied with Arlen­cea and the damosels) returned from the king of Spaines court, and passing through the Realme of France, was the first that by his noble prowesse attained this aduenture, as you shall hereafter heare: wherevpon many secretly enuied him, where­of he made no account at all, because he had so well made his Knightly behauiour knowne to the Ladies of the French Court.

CHAP. XXXVIII.
Of that which happened to the Knight of the Sauage man, in proouing the aduenture these foure Ladies had ordai­ned.

AS the Knight of the Sauage man was con­ducting Arlencea towards Constantino­ple, to shewe her his lady Leonarda, the faire Princesse of Thrace, he was aduerti­sed by the Quéene of Nauarre and Drago­nalt, of the aduenture which the foure French Ladies had ordained. And for that the report went of them, to be maruellously endued with beau­ty, he tooke his way into the French Court, which as then lay in Burgandie, and drawing néere to the Citie of Sonier (now called Digeon (somewhat towards the euening he entred a for­rest, wherein was a Monasterie of Nunnes, which had a good­ly riuer passing a long by it, vpon the banke whereof hee per­ceiued certaine tents erected, and by them sate diuerse La­dies and Damosels, making Garlands of flowres vnder the gréene trées, whereon were hanged many shieldes, which were defended by certaine Knightes that were néere at hand, repo­sing themselues within the tents. It séemeth (said the Knight of the Sauage man to Arlencea) that wee shall not passe here so easily as we did make account.

When he had so said, he espied néere him an ancient Knight, of whom he requested to know, what honourable personages they were that recreated themselues in that place: Sir (an­swered the ancient Knight) it is the Quéene, who came a­broad to sollace her selfe with the King, hée being somewhat higher in the Forrest with his Courtly attendants, hunting the wilde Hart. I pray you then tell me (quoth the Knight [Page] of the Sauage man) for what occasion are the Knights armed that kéepe her company. You shall vnderstand Sir (saide the ancient Knight, that they are seruants vnto foure Ladies, who kéepe themselues in this manner, to aduenture the Com­bate with him▪ that dare aduance himselfe to prooue the ad­uenture: but I pray you Sir be not offended that I part so soone from you, for I see I must away, and so the ancient knight left him.

I sée well (quoth the knight of the Sauage man) that I must prepare my selfe for the Ioust. Wherevpon, because he would not be knowne, he commanded the Esquire to couer his shield with somewhat, and in the meane while he ranne his horse vp and downe, finding him nimble and quicke enough. After his Shield was couered, he rode on toward the Tetes: but when the Ladies saw him come, and a Damosell of such a streat sta­ture with him, they began all to laugh heartely. The Knight of the Sauage man had no sooner beheld them, but not willing to serue them all, then staying his horse, that hee might the better contemplate their diuine faces, a French Damosell (by the commandement of the other Ladies) approched to the Prince with these words.

You giue sufficient example Sir Knight) of the small af­fection you beare to Ladies, in maintaining of whose sweete and delicate complexions, these Knights haue placed their Shields on this Trée, to defend the passage, if you dare be so bold as to trie the aduenture. I pray you faire Damosell (an­swered the Knight of the Sauage man) to let mee knowe the conditions which these Knightes obserue in garding this Valley: for if so bée I iudge them any thing dangerous, it were better for me to depart, then trouble them, for I assure you the Lady you sée in my company, would be very loth to see me in any pe [...]ill. I perceiue then (said the Damosell) you are one of those Knights, who caries their Armor rather to make a showe, then to hazard your person in any doubtfull aduen­ture, neuerthelesse, I will let you vnderstand the custome v­sed in this place. It is so Syr, that the Queene of Fraunce, (who is within these Tentes) hath foure Ladies in her com­pany, [Page] who are reputed to excell all others in Beauty, and they are destrous to know, which of them may best make claime of this Title aboue the other thrée. For the tryall heereof they haue ordained, that the Knight, who will ieopard himselfe in the Aduenture, shall take a viewe of them one after another, and hauing made his choyse of one of these foure, he must enter the Combate with the thrée Knights, who are seruants to the other Ladyes: if so be his Fortune be so good to conquere them, hee shall be called her Knight, on whose behalfe he entred the Com­bate: which honor (I tell you) is highly estéemed in this Coun­trey, because each of the ladies deserue most especiall prefermēt. Now Syr, if your stomacke be so good, you may haue libertie to see them, and they will not disdain to behold the prowesse wher­with you are accompanyed. I promise you Damosell (said the knight of the Sauadge-man) I would not hazard my person for these 4. onely, but as well for all the rest that are in y Quéenes companie: Marry first I will goe doo my dutie to her Maiesty, and after I haue séene the Ladyes, I will so behaue my selfe, as I doubt not but to be well estéemed of all before I depart. Then hée alighted from his Horse, and shewed himselfe so reuerent to the Quéene, and her Ladyes, as they remained greatly conten­ted. Then the Damosell shewed him the foure Ladies, and af­ter he had well viewed them all, shee desired him to tell her his minde. The Knight of the Sauadge man casting his eyes first on Māsia, her Beautie so well contented him, as he thought to rest there, but the Decrée of the Aduenture commaunded him to passe further, and looke on Telansia, whose presence did so abash him, that he knew not to which of those twaine be shuld submit himselfe. When Latrania came before him, his affection did so iuggle with his iudgement, as he could not tell well what to say, yet were th [...]y all forgotten. Vpon the sight of Torsia, for her beautie so enflamed him in euery vaine, that he gaue her the title of Beauty aboue them all. But hee had such slender sta­bilitie in his Loue, as looke how forgetfull he was of them, one after another, euen so he failed not to be the like in iudgement: so, hauing bene a long while ere hee made his answere, at last he spake to the Damosell in this manner.

[Page] Faire Damosell, you haue brought mee into so great per­plexitie, as I am almost willing to forsake an aduenture so dangerous: neuerthelesse, I am content to enter the Com­bate for the honour of Mansia, and if Fortune fauour me with the victory, I will attend other thrée on the behalfe of Telansia, with whose fauour I will enterprise with three more, for La­trania: then turning to Torsia, he said.

And if I escape the danger for all these on your iust quarrell I will approoue my selfe, not onely against thrée, but against all that dare come against me, to let you vnderstand, what little account I make of my life, being thus honoured, to imploy my selfe in your seruice.

Those Ladies were greatly abashed, hearing the braue of­fer the knight of the Sauage man had made, and such bruite was presently spread here of abroade, as the king left the Chase, and returned to the Tents, where the Ladies rehearsed to him the intent of the knight. Arnodes, who was a very wise and discrete Prince, knowing the enterprise to be very dangerous, laboured to haue him performe the promise he had made to the Ladies.

The Knight of the Sauage man made his humble reue­rence to the king, afterward he mounted on horsebacke, spea­king thus againe to the Damosell that brought him thither. If these foure Ladies be contented that I shall serue them, I will let them sée, how willingly I will venture my life for their sakes, but since you haue tolde the recompence for him, that shall be so happy to ende the aduenture, I will not passe any further before I declare to you, with what condition I will enter the Combate against their seruants, which is, that they shall grant me but one gift, if so be the victory happen on my side.

And to the end you shall not bee ignorant of my intent, I will take the paines to discourse it to you. You shall vn­derstand, that I am determined to guard the passage in this Valley, against all knights that dare presume to passe by, during the space of eight dayes, and if Fortune allowe me fa­uourable countenance in the victorie against their Knighes, [Page] that none of the Ladies shall depart hence, but if my mishappe chance otherwise, they may depart at their owne pleasure: Latrania vpon this, spake thns to the other Ladyes.

This Knight (me thinkes) is desirous to deale as the knight of the Sauage man did, who not long since conducted nine La­dies in his company through the Realme of Spalne. By my faith (said Telansia) we ought to grant what he demaundeth, because we shall haue the better knowledge of his valour. I am content (answered Mansia) vpon this condition, that he bring vs to the Castle of Almaroll, and enter the Combate with him that kéepes the princesse Miragardaes Shield, on the behalfe of one of vs foure: this I force not to doe, if so be he pre­uaile in the Combate against o [...]r knights. I pray you (saide Torsia) change this fond humour, for he is more liberall to pro­mise▪ then all you are or can best grant.

Truely it contenteth me very much (answered the Knight of the Sauage man) that you know my minde so well, but me thinks Madame Torsia, it is more then reason that you should refuse any thing, yet would I be loath to turne againe to the Castle of Almaroll. I pray you Syr (quoth the Damosell to whom he spake first) haue you séene the Princesse Miragarda, and conquered the Knight that k [...]pt her Shielde? Surely La­dy (answered the Knight of the Sauage man) I haue seene Miragarda, and Combated against the Knight that kept her Shield, but I was not so fortunate in power, as to ouercome him. How then (saide the Damosell) dare you take the hardi­nesse vpon you, to make such a large promise to these Ladies, that you would not faile to vanquish their Knights, and could not preuaile against that one knight? Marcy (quoth he) for that the presence of these Ladies, and the affection I beare them, shall be sufficient for me to enter the Combate, and conquer all the Knights that dare meddle with me. I see well (saide the Damosell) your loue is too full of incertaintie: then turning to the Ladies, she said, they might well agrée to his request, and for the great desire she had to see the knight of the Sauage mans be­hauiour, she desired the king to giue his consent.

Mansia was so highly fauoured of the King Arnedes, and [Page] he, beside, so willing to sée the pastime, gaue them all franke and frée licence: whereupon the foure Ladyes graunted him to kéepe the passage, and they would accompany him during the eight dayes: then came the Damosell to the knight of the Sa­uage man, with these words. I haue so much preuailed, Sir knight, as these foure Ladies haue giuen consent fo your re­quest: wherefore, I greatly desire to see, if your déeds will proue conformable to your braue words.

The knight of the Sauage man hearing what the Damosell said, came Arlencea, desiring her not to reueale who he was, and comming backe againe, he set downe his order thus. The first Ioust, quoth he, shall be for Mansia: the second for Telan­sia: the third for Latrania: and the fourth shall be for the ho­nour of Torsia. I perceiue then, said the king Arnedes, the knight is willing to accomplish his promise. Then the Coun­tie Girarde, desirous to make knowne the good will he bare Telansia, would néeds take the field first, and encountring the knight of the Sauage man, he met him with such force, as he was sent to the earth with his héeles vpward, so farre out of remembrance with himselfe, as he was faine to be caried forth of the field: at which sight the king was maruellously aba­shed, in that the Countie Gerard was reputed on of the best Knights of his Court. Mansia beganne to thinke, that in her name all the thrée knights should be vanquished, and the honor of the day should be adiudged to her, because the Prince would be so ouerlaboured, as he could not haue the power to vanquish the other thrée knights that came after.

The Countie Gerard was no sooner carried out of the field, but Brialte the seruant of Latrania, gaue his horse the spurres, and burst his Launce brauely one the Prince, but he gaue him such a friendly welcome, as he was constrained to fall to the ground, with one of his armes broken, whereupon, he was ca­ried forth of the field to the Countie of Gerard. Mansia was so glad of this, as she could not hide it, but they that sate against her did easily perceiue her secret reioycing: but the King Ar­nedes seeing the dangerous hurt Brialte had receiued, beganne to doubt, that the straunge knight would iniurie all the other.

[Page] Then Aliart of Normandie (being seruant to Torsia) ran and brake his Lance gallantly on the strange knights Shield, but he was sent to keepe his fellow company: whereas he was so offended, as he started vp againe presently, and drawing his sword, came marching to his enemy, who fearing least the knight would haue slaine his horse, lept beside him, casting his eyes vpon Torsia, making show that he was very sorie for the foile the knight had receiued vnder her name. But yet to ac­quite himselfe of his promise, he charged Aliart so roughly, as in short time he tumbled at his feet, yet would not he offer to take his life from him: when the Damosell came to him, granting him the victory for the thrée dayes.

I am sorie (saide the strange Knight) that you should take such paines Lady. I sée well (answered the Damosell) that you witnesse in your déedes, what you promised in words at the be­ginning. The knight of the Sauage man (who counted himselfe to be called the strange knight) mounted on his horse againe, and taking a Launce, he came to the place where the Ladies sate, entring into these spéeches.

You sée me now ready Ladies, to enter the Field vnder the name of Madame Telansia, whose beautie is sufficient to make me remaine victor ouer all the Knightes that dare speake a­gainst her: and you Lady Mansia, doe not you forget what you haue promised mee, since you sée me willing to discharge the bond wherein I haue tyed my selfe.

The king Arnedes, well noting the valour of the strange knight, deuised how he might haue knowledge of him: for he did not thinke him to bee one of the Prince Don Edwardes Sonnes, because then he iudged, he would not haue concealed himselfe from the Quéene: beside, he was aduertised, that Pal­merin of England had giuen ouer following such aduentures, and that the knight of the Sauage man, was in the realme of Spaine.

While he was thus imagining who this straunge knight should be, Brian of Burgundie, seruant to Mansia, came into the field, very gallantly armed, and bearing for his deuise in his shield, Hope crowned with a garland of flowers, in a [Page] Field of Azure: he pausing a little, and looking stedfastly on his Lady Mansia, parled to himselfe in this manner. I pray you Madame, not to make any doubt of the great prowesse of this strange knight, in that he could not faile of the victory, maintaining your singular and heauenly beautie, but now that he presumeth to change you for another, I doubt not to make him loose, what he séekes so gladly to purchase, so that the victory shall be adiudged onely to you, and he that hath the power to winne it, will remaine yours in dutie while he liueth: the strange knight came to him with these spéeches.

Haue you done sir knight your secret fancies? I perceiue you are one of them, that séekes to content your selfe with silent dis­courses, but I trust to send you after your companions, by the meane of Telansia.

I kn [...]w not (saide Brian of Burgandie) what the ende will be: so couching his Lance, add giuing a signe to the strange Knight, they ranne together couragiously, and brake their Lances with such force, as Brian of Burgundie was vnhorsed, and very sors hurt, yet would he haue dissembled it, and entred the combat with the sword, but the foure Ladies were so afraid that the strange knight would haue slaine him, as they caused him to procéede no further.

The king was very much displeased, séeing the knights of his court so handled, yet were they themselues willing to con­tinue the Ioust: whereupon Monsier of Artois seruant to La­trania, (who would not wast the time in néedlesse words) cald to the strange knight to defend himselfe. I would iudge, sayd the strange knight, that the beautie of your Lady should cause you to regard her somewhat: but since I sée you repose more assurance in your owne strength, then her beautie, whereby you might enioy most hope, come on and welcome. Then set­ting their lances in their rests, they encountred together braue­ly, and albeit they failed for to breake their staues, Monsieuer of Artois; receiued such a forcible arrant, as he was throwne in the dust, so sore shaken that he could scantly mooue himselfe. The strange knight caught hold on his Helmet, and pausing a while, he spake to Mansia in this manner.

[Page] Behold Lady, I giue you this Knight, desiring you to let him be carrryed foorth of the Field: Mansia caused two Knights to conduct him to his Lodging, but Brian of Burgundie, being ve­ry much offended, he would not depart before he had fought the Combat: whereto the Ladyes would not consent: Beside, the King began to be angrie with him, by whose commaundement he was reputed among the vanquished. After that Brian was departed the place, Brisar of Gennes the seruant of Torsia, pre­sented himselfe very richly Armed, not making shewe of any spéech towards his Lady, for that the déeds of the strange knight (whome he thought long to deale withall) made him so moued as he would not speake: which the strange knight perceyuing, he spake to him as followeth.

I pray you Sir to contemplate her beautie a little, for whose sake you are so bold to enter the Combate: to the end her coun­tenance may cause you to imagine the griefe lesse, if fortune di­rect herself against you. I know well (answered Brisar of Gen­nes) that you would gladly see in mée some shew of feare or fain­ting, because you would thereby magnifie your déeds the more: but prouide your selfe for mee, and assure your selfe, that such is the hope I repose in my Ladies fauour, as I doubt not ere I go, but to vnhorse you.

Vpon this, these two Knights met together with such force, as Brisar of Gennes brake his staffe, though not able to remoue his aduersary, who encountred him so brauely, as he was sent to the ground with his Saddle betweene his legges: and as he of­fered to strike him with his Sworde, the Damosell came and stepped betwéene them, so that the strange knight could not exe­cute his intent.

The King Arnedes was extreamely grieued, séeing the victorie come so fast to the disaduantage of his Knights, and the straunge Knight beeing very glad, to see Fortune fauour him so well, praunced till he came before Latiania, to whome he vsed this Language. Hee that hath the power to performe what hee promiseth to your Companions, hath no lesse force to quite himselfe to you, whome I iudge as beautyfull as any of them.

[Page] Then cast he his eyes on Madame Mansia, whose griefe hee might easily perceyue, because shee saw her victory equall with Lady Telansia: and Latrania could not assure her selfe on their s [...]rength that followed, because shee feared that ouermuch tra­uell, would weaken the strength of the strange Knight.

CHAP. XXXIX.
¶How the strange Knight entred the Fielde, to Ioust vnder the name of Latrania.

WHen the straunge Knight was entred the field againe, he came to Arlencea, and tal­ked with her: but Gomer of Benoit stayed him, letting him vnderstand that the Day passed apace, wherfore on the behalfe of his Mistresse Telansia, he bade the Ioust to the strange Knight, who entertained him in the middest of the way so gallantly, as he was [...]aine to kéepe the other Knightes companie. But because hee was a Knight of good courage, hee recouered himselfe quickly, and drew his Sword, which when the straunge Knight beheld, hee forsooke his Horse, and saluted him with such cruell strokes, as that the Ladyes were glad to send the Damosell to separate them asunder, fearing least the straunge Knight would haue slaine them.

The Damosell hauing sent Gomer away, séeing the strange Knight so pleasant and iocond, as though he had not laboured himselfe at all, demaunded of him, when he would thinke him­selfe to haue trauelled enough. Marrie quoth he) when these Ladies (for whome I commit my selfe to the daunger) thinke themselues to haue neuer a Knight left to doe them seruice. I pray you then (saide the Damosell) that you would tell mee [Page] who you are, that I may make report of you to the King, who cannot be quiet, for the desire he hath to know you.

My name Ladie (quoth he) is of so small estimation, that I am much ashamed a Knight so vnexpert at Armes as my selfe, should be discouered to his Highnesse. Not so (answered the Damosell) for your valour is such, as may well abash the best Knight that we haue séene.

After the Damosell was gone forth of the Lysts, the strange Knight mounted on his [...]squyres horse, because his owne was very much trauelled: but the King reioycing to sée him so victo­rious, and pittying he should be destitute of a Horse, commaun­ded one of his Esquiers to bring him the best and most assured Horse in his sight.

The strange knight humbly thanking the King for his gift, mounting on his backe, attending the knight that should next enter, which was Benteier of Berlande, the seruant of Mansia: but such was his misfortune, as he was vnhorsed likewise, ve­ry sore hurt in the fall. And because he was vnable to helpe him­selfe, the king commanded he should be carried out of the field, still practising how he might know the strange knight: who rid on to the end of the race, and séeing neuer a knight ready to Ioust, he sate still in a great study.

Then came Arlencea to him, and willed him to remember his businesse, for there was a Knight ready to trie him. You haue done me a great pleasure madame (answered the strange knight) for I was in such a mauellous conceite, as I little re­garde what affairrs I had in hand. Then gaue he his Horse the spurres against Bertrand of Beaumont, the amorous ser­uant of Torsia, who sped according as his fellowes did, and was likewise carryed forth of the field, afterward he came be­fore the Ladies, speaking to them in this manner.

You may sée (saire Ladyes) the great afftction I haue in you in that I sustaine the quarrell of you all together, and I re­maine conquerour ouer your seruants, for that their good will is not of such good estimation to you, as the loyall and vnfained loue I beare to you, which makes me so forward in you ser­uice: neuerthelesse, I sée you so displeasant for the misfortune [Page] of your friend, as I iudge I shall haue but slender recompence for my labour. Then came he to madame Torsia, saluting her with these spéeches. If I had acquited my selfe (Madame) to­wards these Ladies, what thinke you swéete mistresse I would doe for you? I promise you, I will behaue my selfe in such sort, as you shall say your selfe, I excéede my promise.

So concluding, he returned to the Ioust, wherein he had so good fortune, as hee vnhorsed fiue Knights together: their names were Alteo of Frieze, Dirdell of Burdeaux, Gualter of Dordonne, Danes of Picardie, Richard of Tolose. The King Arnedes knew now what to say, séeing the best knights of his Court so discomfited, therefore he would haue had the strange knight procéede no further: whereat he was somewhat offen­ded, and fearing the King would not suffer the Ladies to ac­complish what they had promised, hee entred into these spée­chées. Your Highnesse is already acquainted with the conditi­ons, whereon I presume to enter the Ioust, therfore me thinks it is more then reason to deny me iustice, especially I being a stranger: considering I haue fulfilled what I promised the La­dies, whom I desire you to cōmand to satisfie my paines. I per­ceiue (said the King) you will not forget what is your right to haue: but I would know with what intent you séeke to ac­company those ladies, whō I can hardly affoord to be sent from my Court. If it please your Maiestie (answered the strange Knight) there was no such doubts made to me before I tryed the Ioust, therfore I take it very vnkindly, that your highnesse should depriue me of my right, séeing it is your office to let eue­ry one haue his desert. I pray you, said the king, tell me who you are? for your noble behauiour maketh me the more earnest in desire to know you: and content your selfe, for I will not hinder you of any thing the Ladies haue promised you.

I beséech your grace humbly (answered the strange Knight) that you would not bee offended, considering I am loth to bee knowne as yet, vntill I haue reuenged an iniurie which one hath dome mee: but I promise you faithfully, your highnesse shall know who I am, ere I depart your Realme, for I will not faile to declare my name to these La­dies, [Page] because they haue him in remembrance, that suffered so great trauaile for their sakes. I sée well then (quoth the King) you will not now ease my troubled thoughts: well, I will ther­fore build vpon your promise: Then the day declining apace, the king set forward on his way to Digeon, thinking the strang knight would come to take his lodging there, but his will was farre contrary, wherefore these few Ladies tooke their leaue of the company, tarying there with the strange knight: who sée­ing them somwhat sad, because they had lost the Quéens com­pany, tooke off his Helmet, which made the Ladies greatly a­bashed, so that one could hardly iudge, which of the foure was most affectionate to him. The strange Knight durst not be too familiar with them in spéeches, because he feared to disturbe their patience: so after he had brought them to the Monasterie (which was néere at hand in the valley) the Abbatesse brought them into a faire Chamber, the windowes whereof ouer a goodly Oratorie, where the strange Knight himselfe was lodged, and there he laboured his thoughts so extremely all the night, as he had done his body all the day before.

CHAP. XL.
Of that which happened to the strange knight, the first day he enterprised to guard the passage of the Valley.

FAire Aurora saluting the Ladies at their Chamber Windows, they put themselues in a readinesse, because they desired to sée more of their Knights prowesse: so, they went with him to the field, not vsing any great fauour towards him, because they thought hee would leaue them the sooner; and Mansia requested of him, into what places he intended to conduct them.

[Page] Madame, aunswered the strange Knight) I am so ex­treamely passioned, as I cannot at this time report whither I shall trauaile. Dare you not be so bold saide Mansia, to bring vs to the Castle of the Giant Almaroll, and enter the Combate for our sakes, with the knight that kéepeth the Prin­cesse Miragardaes Shield, as the Knight of the Sauage man did for certaine Damosels that kept him company? I knowe no daunger so great answered the strange Knight, which I would refuse to hazard, if I might be vsed with gracious be­hauiour, for that inciteth a noble minde most to the fight. If any of vs, saide Latrania, were desirous you should approoue the Combate against the Princesse Miragardaes Knight, for which of vs foure would you aduenture most willingly? It is greater trouble for me, quoth he, to answere your present de­maund, then to hazard the Combate against any knight what­soeuer. Yet quoth she, admit the necessitie were such, as wée would faine knowe, which of vs should make best account of her [...]selfe in this case? Trust me Madame, answered the strange Knight, it is vnpossible for me to make you any direct resolu­tion in this matter: for mine eyes are so equall in iudgement on you all foure, as I cannot either loue or affectione more then another.

Haue you sir, said Torsia, at any time séene the princesse Mi­ragarda? Yea Madame that I haue, answered the strange Knight: I pray you then good Sir, quoth shée, that you would vouchsafe to tell me, is she so excéeding faire, as the common bruite is blazed abroad of her? Madame said the strange knight, you may well assure your selfe, that your singular beauty hath so dazeled my iudgement, as I neuer sawe any that liked me better then you doe.

Ah ha, quoth Mansia, haue we taken you at last? Wée may now very well perswade our selues, that Torsia is she whom you make most account of, for you neuer gaue so good wordes to any of vs: wherefore seeing shée hath the most power ouer you, and that you preferre her beautie aboue all ours, I am de­termined to depart hence with these two Knights, which I sée comming hitherward, for I knowe them to bee such, as will [Page] carrie me away in the despight of you. And I pray you Latra­nia and Telansia to beare me company, séeing the knight hath reuealed himselfe, how simply we are estéemed in his fauour.

The strange knight thought to excuse himselfe, but before he had the commoditie so to doe, the knights of whom Mansia spake) were there arriued: the one of them being called Sir Menelao of Clermont, the other Monsieur Arnar: who being a­bashed to sée these Ladies in the power of a stranger, came to vnderstand the occasion. Sir Clermont (saide Mansia) since Fortune hath so luckily brought you hither, I pray you to de­liuer me from this strange knight, who saith, that in despite of all the knights in France he will cary vs into Spaine with him and there make vs giue attendance on his Lady.

Clermont, who was the seruant to Latrania, giuing credite presently to Mansiaes words, tooke his lance from his Esquier, and comming to the strange knight, he entred into these spée­ches. Since you haue (Sir) receiued the order of knighthood, to offer iniurie and displeasure to Ladies: I wish he may be ac [...]ursed that bestowed it on you, and my selfe too, if I should not attempt to chastise your follie. You are wrong informed Sir (answered the strange knight) and I perceiue Mansia would gladly sée you brought into danger, as she would affoord me the like fauour, if it lay in her power: and I thinke you shall gaine more in going about your busines, then by tarrying long in this company.

Clermont séeing himselfe so lightly estéemed, grew into such melancholy, as he ranne against the strange knight, before hée would suffer him to take his Launce: but hée slipping by the pu [...]h of the Launce, caught him in the carrire by one of his armes, & pulling him beside his horse, threw him to the ground with great violence. His Esquire then deliuering him a Launce, he rode against Arnar, who prepared himselfe to re­uenge the shame his fellow Clermont had receiued, as also to desire the fauour of Torsia, because he had good hope to espouse her: but the strange knight being ignorant of his affection, met so iustly with him, as he sent him to kéepe Clermont company.

And to the end the Ladies might perceiue, how he deserued [Page] be [...]ter account them they made of him, he alighted frō his Horse, and hauing drawne his Sword, he dealt with them so brauely both together, as he made them know they went against those orders, which a good Knight ought carefully to kéep and estéeme. The strange Knight desiring to delight them, whose kindnesse was very mean and slender to him, brought the knights into so bad estates, as they would very willingly haue had a little rest, if so be their enemy would haue suffered them. Mansia séeing the Knights in so great danger, she desired the strange Knight, that it might please him to heare her one word: thē in the mean while he stayed to heare what she would with him, Clermont and Arnar had the leisure to breathe a while, whereof they were not a little glad, and Mansia began thus to the strange Knight, I am highly contented sir, in that you haue witnessed your no­ble valour vpon these two Knights, whome I desire you to re­mit, séeing th [...]y are not able to purchase any aduantage ouer you: For I perswade my selfe, that both Syr Arnar and Cler­mont wil not refuse your gentlenes in so dooing, and I my selfe shal haue cause to thanke you for it. These two French knights were as glad as might be, that their Combat ended in so good or­der: neuerthelesse, because their Ladies should not iudge them to be so fainte heart to, they made as though they gaue ouer very vnwillingly. Which the strange Knight beholding, he desired Mansia to suffer him to begin again, for he doubted not to make them better contented, when hee brought thē into a little more danger. Such is the pride (answered Torsia) as you will not be contented till some knight may haue the power to qualifie your lustinesse. Your beauty faira Madam (said the strange knight) doth so torment mee, as you cannot wish me any greater pu­nishment: yet will I take it thankfully, comming from no bo­dies hand but yours. Arnar was so sore wounded, as the La­dyes were const [...]ained to vnarme him to dresse his woundes, which were very dangerous, & Torsia tooke paine to binde them vp with his shyrt sléeues. The strāge knight séeing the gracious courtesie these Ladies vsed to Arnar, bega [...]ne to pittie him very much, especially, beholding Torsia to shew teares: but they were not very many, for French Ladyes doo not vse to wéepe much.

[Page] while these Ladies were thus busie about Arnar, a Knight arriued in the place where the Combate was fought, bearing in his shield in a field of siluer, a Speare broken in pieces, where­by was to be vnderstood, that his hope was altogether lost: af­ter the knight a pretie space beheld the beautie of these Ladies, he made his rest vpon Latrania, and being very desirous to doe her seruice, he came to her with these spéeches.

You shall vnderstand Madame, that I haue sometime stai­ed my hope in the place, where I could purchase but slender ad­uantage, as you may behold by the deuise I beare in my shield: and I assure you, I will once againe venture my fortune on your behalfe, for I perswade my selfe, I shall not endure any great torment for your sake, hauing the fauour of your diuine beautie before mine eyes.

Menelao of Clermont, being so amorous of Latrania, as he iudged none ought to loue her but himselfe, could not suffer the words of the Knight of the Speare, but returned him this an­swere. If you doe attempt (sir knight) to fight on foote against me, albeit you sée me sore wounded: yet will I giue you to vn­derstand, that the fauour of this Lady is reserued for him, that hath suffered thus much in her seruice, and thinketh himselfe worthy of her gracious recompence. I perceiue Sir (said the K. of the Speare) that you are ignorant of me, who could wish (for the loue I beare this Lady) and you were in good estate, end ar­med double against me: for as you be now, I iudge you farre vnable to make resiastance against me. The strange knight hearing the proud words of the knight of the Speare, mounted on horsebacke, and taking a Lance from his Esquire, came vn­to him with theses words.

Sir Knight, I haue promised these foure Ladies, to guarde the passage of this Valley for eight dayes space: the two first dayes in the seruice of Mansia, the Lady that sitteth on your left hand: the third and fourth for Telansia: the fift and sixt for the Lady whom you like, called Latrania: and the two last dayes shall be altogether imployed, in the honourable seruice of Madame Torsia. And I assure you, I am as greatly af­fectionate to the one as the other, except the especiall opinion [Page] I haue of Torsia, for that I saw her wéepe for the harme of her knight, yet will she not pitty the ceaslesse gréefe I endure for her sake. Notwithstanding all this (sir knight) if you can thinke so well of your selfe as to trie the Aduenture, you shall finde me verie willing to entertaine you.

It is ten dayes since (aunswered the knight of the Sphere) that I did arriue in any place, where I could be more desirous to trye my valour then I am this present: but séeing these daies are limitted by course, I will awaite till they come, which are appointed for the honor of Latrania, for on her behalfe I meane to aduenture my selfe. In troth (sayde Clermont,) I sée the Knight beginneth to dismay himselfe, and can finde no better meanes to excuse himselfe, then to put off the triall of his man­hood. If you thinke so (answered the Knight of the Sphere,) make your returne hither at the appointed time, and I will not fayle to let you know what small account I make of your Choller.

So leauing Clermont, he approched to the Ladyes, who de­manded of him, if he had bene at the Castle of the Gyant Al­maroll. He being willing to shewe himselfe obedient to them, courteously shaped them this aunswere. I haue bene not long since (fayre Ladyes) at the aforenamed Castle, and I haue séene the Princesse Miragarda, yet not entring the Combate with him that kéepes the Shielde, for that Albayzar set himselfe a­gainst me, and vanquished me. Thinke you (saide Mansia) a­ny more beautie to consist in Miragarda, then in Madam La­trania? You driue me to a harde point Lady (quoth the Knight of the Sphere) for I iudge him of simple vnderstanding, that wil reproue them absent, to content the humours of them present: and I thinke it expedient, that eache of you should be content with your seuerall Giftes, not grudging nor repining at that which is in another.

Sir (saide the straunge knight) you witnesse very well your badde entertainement at the Castle of Almorall, which hindreth your iudgement of the beautie of Miragarda & these foure Ladies: in whose defence I will stand, that no Ladies beautie may compare with theirs. The knight of the Sphere [Page] suspected, that it should be the Knight of the Sauage man, wher­vpon he behold his shield, which he could not perceiue because it was couered: but he knew his Esquire, so that he was assu­red with whom he would deale. Neuerthelesse, the affection hee bare to Latrania, made him forget the friendship of the knight of the Sauage man: so he tooke his leaue of the Ladies, intending to lodge not farre from the Forrest, vntill the dayes came for him to aduenture with the strange knight, on the be­halfe of his beloued Latrania. Clermont and Arnar departed heauily, and the strange knight went with the Ladies to the Monasterie againe, where he caused Arlen [...]ea to remaine, till he and the knight of the Sphere had Iousted together, fearing least in her company he should be knowne, and because he reser­ued her to be married to his friend Dramusiande.

CHAP. XLI.
The complaints which the strange knight made in the night time, vnder the window of the Chamber where the foure Ladies were lodged.

THese ladies were brought againe into their Chamber, where out at the windowes (be­cause the knightes were quiet, calme, and faire) they might discerne the most part of the Valley. The strange knight was so ve­hemently surprised with their loue, as the great trauaile hee had sustained that day, was not of force sufficient to cause him giue his mind to rest: for it is euermore séene, when the spirit is troubled with newe imaginations, the heart must néedes be tormented with infi­nite passions. Euen so was hee molested with so many newe [Page] cares, as he was constrained to come forth vnder the Ladyes Chamber window, hoping that seme of them would take pi­tie on him: then laying him downe among the gréene leaues, and folding his armes crosse ouerthwart his stomacke, he entred into these discourses.

I know well that loue is enuious at my libertie, for that I haue séene the Dames of England, of Greece, of Spaine, and of Nauarre, without remaining affectionate to any of them: but now being in Fraunce, I am suddenly inneigled by foure Ladyes, who onely delight to depriue me of life. And that which tormenteth me most, is this, I loue them all, and am as much affected to one of them, as I am to all the other thrée: for when I regard the one, my heart biddeth me forsake all to yéeld to her: and beholding the second, I finde my selfe in the same alteration. So that when I would forgette such vncertaine assaultes, I sée them the more readier to be extant before me, which maketh me thinke it cannot be true loue, that doth tosse and turmoyle in so many sorrowes: and yet doe I imagine my griefe the lesse, remembring that I endure it for their sakes.

But me thinkes the case is very hard, when no one of them will séeme to make account of me: wherefore, I sée well, I shall be charged with more extreame cares, then as yet I am. O vnfortunate knights, that vnder their names prepare your selues to giue me the Combate.

The Ladies who were at the window, heard very well the complaints of the strange knight, whereupon, Mansia, spake the rest in this manner. I thinke it good (my friendes) that we goe vnto him, and spend a little conference with him­for séeing the night is long and troublesome, I iudge we can­not better driue it away. How dare you (sayde Torsia) be so hardie to goe visite the man, who maketh no account to kill them that come in his presence? It is not for you (aunswered Telansia) to make any shew of fearefulnesse now: for if any mischance happen to vs, you are the first that shall be voyde of it.

[Page] This discoursing to one another, at last they departed all togither, being in their Petticoates, and their Mantells wrapt about them, to shielde the Deawe from falling on them. Af­ter these foure Ladies were come to the place where the strange Knight lay lamenting, they hauing saluted him, Mansia be­ganne thus.

It is so Syr Knight, that we are desirous to knowe who you are, and vpon what occasion you vtter these complaints? and if you séeme to hide these demaunds from vs, wee shall be enfor­ced to cause you loose that without Armes, which you haue ob­tained of other by Armes. Indéed Ladie (answered the strange Knight,) one of you hath power sufficient to vanquish me: then shall you offer me great iniurie, to addresse your selues all foure against me. Trust me Syr (saide Telansia) wee repute you so good a Knight, hauing séene sufficient occasion to cause vs think so, as that some of vs remaine yet in doubt, by reason of the knowledge we haue of your Noble déedes. If my déedes faire Lady (the strange Knight replyed) were accompanied with any shew of estimation, it procéeded only by being imployed in your seruice, which séeing they are so agréeable to you, I shall attempt to Conquere all the Knightes in the French Courte vnder your names: but I sée you denie your fauour, and I am out of hope euer to purchase it. I pray you Syr (saide Torsia) let me aske you one question: Haue you bene in Loue heeretofore, or no? Certainly Madam (answered the strange Knight) I haue bene many times practising to follow the will of the little god of loue, who compelleth (by his envenomed shafts) both Gods and men to loue. And haue you bene (quoth Torsia) so greatly tormented then, as you séeme to be at this present? No Madam (qd. hee) for that I gaue my selfe to the seruice of one, whose loue I hope to enioy (in time) by my Trauels: but now that I haue aduen­tured to loue foure, one of them séemeth to forsake mee, to the ende the other may deale with me in the same sort. And I as­sure you Madame, I neuer loued in any place, where I séemed to be depriued of my life: but now I desire to be consumated, being fallen into so extreame occasions.

[Page] I pray you Sir (said Torsia) doe not molest your selfe so, for he that is accustomed to trauaile countries can shake off these passions well enough I warrant ye. I thinke it good that you grant to satisfie Madame Latraniaes desire, which is, that you would conduct her to the Castle of Almaroll, where you must enter the Combate vnder her fauour, against the knight that kéepeth the portraiture of Miragarda: or else that your tra [...]a [...]e to séeke the Knight of the Sauage man, from whom you must take by force of Armes, the Damoselles that are in his com­pany.

You will me Lady, a charge against all dutie, for I aduertise you, he that gardeth the Princesse Miragardaes Shield is not now at the Castle of Almaroll: but I am well content to search the Knight of the Sauage man, and to enter the Com­bate with him, vnder the fauour of Madame Latrania, who shall beare me company, and you all likewise, for I cannot liue, being depriued of your presence.

I perce [...]ue, saide Latrania, you can excuse your selfe well enough: but I hope the Knight of the Sphere will reuenge the squemishnesse you vse towards me. Latrania thus breaking off her purpose, they al foure tooke their leaue of the strange knight, because the desire of sléepe compelled them so to doe, and being entred their Chamber, they discoursed among themselues sometimes commending the knights noble valour, and then a­gaine his gracious and Princely behauiour, whereupon they determined to shew him better countenance then as yet they had done.

The strange Knight remained in extreame passions, be­cause they departed from him so suddainely, and [...]earing he had vttered somewhat that they could not like off, hée passed the night in many melancholly conceites, vntill in the morning, his Esquire brought him some refection. And during the time he was at breakefast, the Knight of the Sphere came secretly to the Monasterie where these Ladies were, who by reason of their late watching, kept their beddes as yet: but because the strange knight should not e [...]py him, he went & sate downe at the foote of a [...]. And hauing taken off his Helmette, he be­ganne [Page] to recount his manifold misfortunes he had endured, which when he had aduisedly considered, he found them not to be compared to the violent afflictions that he suffred for the loue of Latrania, whose beautie was of no small estimation with him, in that he had promised for her sake to enter the Combate against the Knight of the Sauage man, the Sonne to Prince Edward his Lord and especiall good friend.

CHAP. XLII.
What happened to the strange Knight, the second day he guarded the passage of the Valley.

VNtill it was two houres after mid-day, the strange Knight kept within his Tent, not hauing any occasion to arme himself: which the Ladies perceiuing, they were desirous to be gone, Mansia aduansing her selfe as chiefest of them, setting foorth her counte­nance to the vttermost: and because that day was ordained for her honour, shee behaued her selfe most brauely in the presence of the other Ladies.

The strange Knight knew well the intent of Mansia, how glad she was to see the triall of her beautie that day, wherevp­on he framed his language to her in this manner. I would willingly (Madame) discerne some kinde of imperfection in your Courtly brauery, that thereby you might receiue occasi­on to respect somewhat with pittie, the man that is extreamely afflicted in thinking how he may compasse the meanes to win you [...] good opinion: for you being adorned with such rare and exquisite beautie, doe euen lengthen their liues, who take plea­sure [Page] to behold you. But I good Madame cannot be so hap­py as to be one of those, in that I am he, to whom you take de­light to conceale your selfe: but this day I desire you to prepare your selfe, as gallant as may be, for your beauty may happen to winne the estimation aboue all these other Ladyes, because it is vnknowne what knights will come.

These words of the strange Knight did not so well please Mansia as he iudged they would haue done, for she tooke them very disdainfully, and gaue the knight to vnderstand, that she was not reserued for him.

Latrania séeing him so earnest in contemplating the beautie of Mansia, spake vnto him in this manner. I see well Sir, that the regard you haue of Mansia, causeth you to be forget­full of all the rest. Not so Lady (aunswered the straunge knight) and if you will doe me the honour to heare me speake, you shall soone perceiue you are in a wrong opinion. You will not gainesay (sayd Latrania) but her beautie is honoured as your owne this day. If the day (quoth he) whereon I lost my libertie, both for her and you, were as yet to come, you should haue some reason for to conceiue this opinion. But if you be desirous to know the state, wherein Loue hath bound his Subiects to his Law, the Knight of the Sphere (whom I perceiue is comming hitherward) will satisfie you there­in: and you may demaund, if as yet he containeth the same minde, wherewith he presented himselfe to doe you ser­uice.

While the strange knight vsed these and such other like spéeches to Latrania, the Knight of the Sphere lifting vppe his Helmet, came to the Tents, and saluted the Ladies very gratiously: and as he stood earnestly beholding Latrania, the Ladyes perceiuing thrée Knights comming towards them, being all armed after one manner, as if they were all thrée the Seruants of Mansia, the first of them was an English man, called Brauor: the second, Alter of Amiens: and the third Gualter of Amboise: they being all thrée of the King Arnedes Court.

[Page] And because they had not the meane, to make triall of their valour in the Forrest against the strange knight, when he be­haued himselfe so brauely in the Kings presence, they con­cluded this day to hazard their renowne, which was the last day the strange knight enterprised to shewe his puissance for the honour of their Mistresse. These three knights being come before their sweéte Saint and Lady, were in a manner depri­ued of their wits, her beautie was of such stately preferment in their eyes: which the Knight of the Sphere beholding, and noting well their amorous passiens, he spake to Mansia in this manner.

You cannot deny faire madame, but you are more beholding to this strange Knight, which hath kept you company for cer­taine dayes, then to these knights which are come to seeke you: for that in my iudgement they rather seeme to yeeld themselues conquered by your present sight, then any desire I can perceiue in them to the Combat, but it may be, your braue apparel hath more dazeled their eyes, then your singular beautie, which is of sufficiency to set the whole world to worke.

Sir (answered Brauor) if you are so busie to descant on our meanings, and that you will seeme to iudge of our inward thoughts, prepare your selfe to the Ioust, and I will not fayle to giue due chastisement to your lauish spéeches. Trust me Sir (answered the the Knight of the Sphere) I am content to satisfie your desire, on condition this knight shall thinke it so conuenient.

I pray you (Sir said the strange Knight) that you would not seeme to hinder me in my enterprise, which being once at­chieued, you may afterwards make triall of this knights cou­rage, which to lay, I iudge you shall not neede to trauaile your selfe much. I perceiue (answered Brauor) what the intent of your speeches is, neuerthelesse, I hope the gallant brauerie, wherein I haue this day beheld my Mistresse Mansia, will not onely graunt me the conquest ouer you, but also be sufficient for me, to correct the pride of this other Knight. I perceiue now verie well (saide the straunge knight) that your affection was onely vpon her gay cloathing, but mine is on her swéete [Page] self, that weareth them: then casting his eyes vpon Mansia, he entred in to these speeches. Faire Madame, since the honour of this Day is dedicated to your praise, I desire you to allow mee so much fauour, as to beholde the entertainement of this new­come Ghost: for I feare me, my blowes will yéeld him greater Disaduantage, then hee receyued content in beholding your Beautie.

Vppon this they ranne together couragiously, and Brauor brake his Launce worthly, but the strange Knight encountred him with such force, as hee pierced him quite through the bodie, so that he fell beside his Horse to the ground dead: his compani­nions being as greatly abashed, as the Ladies did take it heaui­ly seeing the misfortune of Brauor, whose bodie was carryed to the Monastery to be buryed.

Alter of Amiens, and Gualter of Amboyse, notwithstanding the death of their Friend and companion, determined to hazard their honour in this Aduenture: but Gualter of Amboyse was the first that presented himselfe to Ioust, vsing this Language towards his Ladie. I desire you heartily (good Madame) that you would not suffer him to dye at a strangers hand▪ who onely liueth to doe you seruice: but so well I desire you to thinke of mée, as in the extreamest occasion you will not forsake mee. These words vttered by Gualter of Amboyse, were spoken af­ter such manner, as the Knight of the Sphere easily vnderstood them, wherevpon he spake to Madame Latrania, in this man­ner. This Knight in my iudgement (faire Mistris) is vnwoor­thy the Loue of any gracious Lady, that disdaineth of his enter­prise before he begin it.

While hee stoode thus communing with his Ladie, the two Knights encountred together, but Gualter of Amboyse was cast foorth of his Saddle, béeing vnable to mooue the Straunge Knight: hée hauing broken his Launce, addressed himselfe to Alter of Amiens, who being very timerous and fearefull, yet to shewe some good countenance to his Ladie, gaue his Horse the spurres against the straunge Knight, who could not méete with him according as he would. Neuerthelesse, Alter of Amiens brake his Launce in such sorte, as the péeces flewe about the [Page] strange Knights horse head, whereat the horse so fumed as he gallopped with his maister violently through the field, where­vpon the strange Knight cast himselfe beside him, commaun­ding his Esquire to ride after, to take him againe. Alter of Ar­miens, séeing that Fortune more faudured him then his other companions, was very desirous to enter the combat with the sword, for which cause he alighted from his horse, then Gualter put himselfe before him, because he had Iousted first: but the strange knight handled him in such order, as in short time his companion was glad to come helpe him, whereupon, the strange knight entred into these words.

You come (sir) euen as well as heart can wish, for I am de­termined to lay claime to your horse, because mine is runne a­way from me. Then he charged him so furiously, as the knight of the Sphere was constraided (pittying the estate wherin they were brought) to desire Mansia to giue them some succour: but before she could well perswade her selfe to doe so, these two knights came and rendred themselues at her féet, desiring her to pitty their present case, not doubting but they would apply their liues many other wayes in her seruice. The straunge knight desirous to sée what estimation Mansia would make of them, came vnto them with these words. You shall vnder­stand (sir knights) that I am not determined to giue you ouer, without the Lady intreate on your behalfe her selfe: or else she shall promise to graunt me one request, which I entend to vtter to her.

I assure you sir knight (aunswered Mansia) I doe not in­tende to make you any such promise, giuing you to vnder­stand, that you ought to beware how you passe any further your selfe, for the hope which you haue in me, who by this meanes shall haue perfect knowledge, of the loue and good will you séeme to beare me. I sée well (quoth the strange knight) that you are desirous to let me know, how your nature is bent towardes them, that aduenture themselues in your seruice: which is: that they shall receiue better entertainment, then that which you vse towards me: whereat, I haue some occa­sion to gréeue, for I would be he, that should onely receyue [Page] your fauour: in that I practise all meanes possible to please you. But I sée your intent is to vse me with rigour, which I would wish you should vse to these knights, whose liues are of so little profite to you, so that I count my selfe happy, be­cause my life is farre from your power.

When he had thus sayd, he offered to mount on Gualters horse, but the Ladies gaue him to vnderstand, that he did much abuse the knight to offer him such iniurie, by which meanes, these two knights rid presently away to the King of France his Court, where they made knowne the misfortune that had happened vnto them.

The knight of the Sphere, tooke his way vnto his lodging, and the Ladies to their Monastery: Mansia being greatly con­tented, that the strange knight had so well acquitted himselfe towards her, as the other thrée did very much maruell, at the noble behauiour of this braue Champion.

CHAP. XLIII.
Of that which happened to the strange Knight the third and fourth day.

AFter the sight of these Iousts, the Ladies hauing withdrawne themselues into the Monastery, the strange knight entred into his Tent, where he refreshed himselfe with such viands as the Nuns had sent him. And for that he was somewhat sore trauailed, hee was the more desirous to rest: in the meane time his Esquire returned from the search of his horse, which he could hardly take all that day, but his master was [...]ad when he saw him.

[Page] Then the strange Knight, thinking the Ladies would walk abroade, as they had done the Night before, he tooke his way to the gréene Trées againe: but they came not abroad vntill the Morning: when, being mounted on theyr Palfrayes, Mansia ridde foremost, hauing a Garland of Flowers on her heade, in signe of Victorie: Telansia followed next her, beeing in good hope to attaine the selfe same honour. Latrania and Torsia came somewhat behinde, vsing such a maiestie in theyr counte­nance, as the Knight was more and more enflamed towardes them. When Mansia was come somewhat neere the strange knight, she spake vnto him in this manner. Trust me Syr, we are so weary of your company, as we haue concluded to return [...] to the kings Court, not doubting but we shall be aduertised, what things happen to you in our absence: whereto the strange knight thus replied.

These words (good Madame) which you vse to me, cannot be thought welcome to me, and I am perswaded that the lawe which these Ladies of France hath set downe, being first be­gun by their owne good willes, cannot be thus broken, with­out their great impeachment. Good Syr (answered Torsia) doe not thus grieue and offend your selfe, for Mansia did speake but onely to trie you, and she will not be gone so soone from you, I warrant you: as for vs we will not breake our promise to you, till the eight dayes be fully compleate, except some other knight come, whose power shall be sufficient to cut off your deter­mination.

Me thinke Lady, saide the strange knight, you should not wish him more misfortune, who endureth too much alreadie for your sweete sakes: but me thinkes you should rather wish the victorie to fall on my side, then on any others, for the lauda­ble commendation you shall get thereby. While the strange Knight behaued himselfe amiably, in the entertaining these gallant Ladies, the Knight of the Spere arriued there on a sud­daine, who shewing his obeysance to Madame Latrania, spake to her as followeth.

Faire Mistresse, neuer were any dayes so troublesome vnto mee, as these which I endure at this present, earnestly thir­sting [Page] and desiring for the time, when your swéete selfe may al­low me some fauour: Neuerthelesse, I am very well perswa­ded, that the Knight who honoureth you with his seruice, can­not be easily vanquished, for that he beares as great good will to you as I doo, adioyning hereto, that he imagineth himselfe wor­thy your loue. But you may assure your selfe, that I am so high­ly affected to you, as this Knight may no way equall: Neuerthe­lesse, I cannot chuse but take it heauily, fearing you will allow the like ingratitude, which I perceiue you vse to him: To these words Latrania replyed thus:

Your spéech (Syr Knight) is farre different from the offer you made me, when you first arriued in this place, when you were so liberall in promise, that you would not sticke (for my sake) to conquer the whole World. The strange Knight being desirous to make one with them, offered to aduaunce himselfe to them: but he was hindred by a Damosell, who arriued there at that very instant, who desired him to show her the knight that guar­ded the Passage of the Valley: Then disclosing himselfe to the Damosell, she saluted him with these spéeches;

Hauing vnderstood (Sir Knight) how you are of the opinion, that these foure Ladyes are the fairest in all the World, I was somewhat desirous to trauell hither, accompanyed with these foure Knights, which you sée vnder this Trée: and they (to ho­nour me with theyr seruice) haue concluded to Ioust with you, not doubting but theyr paines will returne greater profite vnto them on my behalfe, then that which you bestow for these La­dyes. And this you must vnderstand beside, that these knights come not to enter the Combat with the sword, in that I reserue them for especiall affaires, which are to mee of greater impor­tance then this.

When the strange Knight had well aduised himselfe on the Damosels words (who bare her face couered) hee answered her in this manner. I would I were▪ in as great estimation with these Ladyes, who kéepe mee here captiue, as these Knights (in your company) are to you. And for that you vse them with such fauour, I desire that Madam Telansia may spéed no worse then Mansia hath done, for whose sake I haue already Conquered [Page] thrée Knights. I pray you Sir (said the Damosell) to shew me which of these foure Ladies you ca [...] Telansia? After the strange knight had satisfied her request, she entred into these words.

In sooth (Sir) her beautie is sufficient for you to enterprise great matters, yet I imagine, my knights shall not be any thing more discouraged thereby, to doe me seruice. This Damosell was the very same, that came to succour the vanqui­shed Knights, which were conquered by the strange Knight in the King and Quéenes presence: and because the straunge Knight sped alwayes so fortunately, many knights sought se­uerely to iniurie him: which the Quéene would preuent as much as she could, causing this Damosell to entice them to trie their valour against the straunge Knight, for her sak [...].

Thereto they willingly consented, neuerthelesse, the King had forbidden them to enter the Combate with the Sword: for which cause the Damosell entreated the straunge Knight, that he would hazard the breaking of one Launce, against one of her champions. After that the damosell had thus concluded, these foure Knights (who bare for their seuerall deuises in their shéelds, the Globe of the world, figured in a siluer field) beganne to aduance themselues forward, which the strange knight perceiuing, he coasted Telansia with these spéeches. If the world (faire Madam) were of no bigger quantity then this which the Knight beareth in his shéeld, I iudge I might with easie trauaile ouercome it, & make you the onely Quéene of the world. Without any more words, he ga [...]e the spurres to his horse, and encountred the knight in the midst of the carréer, so brauely, as both horse and man went to the ground: then tur­ning to the Damosell that conducted them thither, he spake to her as followeth. You cannot denie now faire Damosel, but you haue seene me throw the world to the ground, onely by the fauour of Madame Telansia. Oh Syr (answered the Damo­sell) you doe but as yet beginne, these other thrée knights knew very well the prowesse of this knight, to be farre greater then they thought for: but since such great misfortune hath befallen [Page] him, you sée the second Knight desireth to reuenge his compa­nions wrong, and if he faile likewise, these other two Knightes will beare them company. But I perceiue well (saide the Da­mosell) they must be tried knights, which shall liue in hope to conquer you: yet may I say thus much without offence, that your courage is the more emboldened by the presence of these foure Ladies. Then taking off her maske, the strange [...]night presently knew her, which made him beginne in this manner. I am very glad (faire Damosell) that you can now witnes my iustnesse and stabilitie: but I doe greatly abash my selfe, of the hope you reposed in these foure knights, who (for any thing I can sée) beare no greater affection to you, then to me. These knights desired the Damosell to suffer them to depart, for they were afraide, least they should be so handled as their compani­on was. The king Arnedes commaunded that night, that a great dancing should be kept in the Quéenes Chamber, where­at he was aduertised of the sundry and high good hope of the strange knights: which moued many Ladies to intreate their amorous seruants, that they would bring them to the place where this knight kept the passage.

These foure ladies entred the field, accompanied with their champion, and the knight of the Sphere, whom the Ladies desired that the king should not be offended, by his entring the Combate with the strange knight: As for the residue of their seruants that were in the Tentes, to encourage them to be earnest in desiring to enter the Ioust, each of them promised vnto her knight a garland of flowers, if the victory chanced on his side. Baldwin of Nainnis, who was the affectionate ser­uant to the faire Albania, was the first that presented himselfe to Iust against the strange knight, who would not suffer him to run before he had first craued leaue of the ladies, that it might be their wils to [...]rowne him with the garlands of flowers that remained victor: the ladies contented themselues greatly with this request, wherevpon the strange knight spake thus to Te­lansia. Madame, for that it is pitty your golden lockes, so gal­lantly garnished with these fragarant flowers should be iniured by any, or these garlands worne by any other tho [...] your swéete [Page] selfe: I desire you to lay these garlands by the trée before you, and doubt not but I will haue more companions to them pre­sently. So saying, he ran against Baldwin with such force, as he sent both horse and man to the ground on a heape. The La­dy Albanis garland was presently sent to the strange knight, which he immediatly presented to Telansia, vsing this lan­guage. If (swéete Mistresse) you will doe me so much honour, as to receiue in worth this present I offer vnto you: I will not faile to enterprise in your gratious seruice, to decke this trée with flowers of surpassing beautie.

Next to Baldwin, was dismounted Bameran, the amorous seruant of Lady Brisa: whose garland of flowers was set next to Lady Albaniaes. Rion of Belze, seruant to Madame Ver­tuosa, being discomfited, her garland was a companion to La­dy Brisaes. The fourth was called Lusaman, seruant to Lady Zapella, he was likewise sent to kéepe his fellowes company: next to him was Riant, the seruant vnto faire Blas. And Altar of Bayonne, seruant to Manansina, who séeking to reuenge his friends iniurie, was cast foorth of his Saddle, with his arme broken. Garland of Beziers, seruant to Montpensier: Forsian of Granoble, seruant to the Lady of Iurie, Brisar, seruant to the Lady of Bur, sister to Telansia: beside many other knights, who were all vanquished by the strange Knight.

These garlands were hanged on the bowes of the trée, the sight whereof, yeelded no small contentment to Telansia: but the other Ladies found themselues greatly discontented, thin­king on this honour, and what had passed before, especially Mansia, who indued this day farre more triumphant, then those which the strange knight maintained vnder her fauour. Latrania and Torsia, were out of hope to attaine such honour as Telansia had done: so these vanquished knights departed presently thence to the Court at Digeon. The knight of the Speare was greatly abashed, noting the noble deeds of the strange knight, whereupon he tooke his leaue, and went to his accustomed lodging, to passe that night away: reioycing great­ly that the day was come at last, when he should witnesse to Latrania his prowesse and affection: the strange knight was [Page] so transformed in the Loue of these Ladies, as hee thought ne­uer to leaue theyr company, and contemplating them very ear­nestly, his Esquyre came, and told him his Supper was ready: remembring him also, that on the next day hee must enter the Combat with the Knight of the Sphere, whom he iudged to be one of good and hardy courage. I pray thée answered the strange Knight, let me alone, for the hope I repose in these Laies, is suf­ficient to make mee breake both the Sphere, and the hope like­wise of the knight thou namest to me.

The Ladies vnderstanding the wordes of theyr Champyon, gaue no small commendations to theyr knightly déedes, in the meane while, the Knight layde him to rest: but so vnquiet was his sléepe, as he did not containe the same minde he was woont, to goe walke vnder the Ladyes Chamber windowe, to vnder­stand if they would come into the Field againe. And I assure you, these Ladyes being parted but a little thence, they imagi­ned amongst themselues, by casting of Lottes, which of them that Night should goe to him: the lotte fell vnto Latrania, who departed as brauely garnished, as she did the first night.

CHAP. XLIIII.
¶Of that which happened this night to the straunge Knight: and how the knight of the Sphere entred the Combat the day following.

IN the meane while the strange Knight slept at the foote of a Tree, Latrania came to him, being in a wastcoate of white Taffa­tey, all the breast whereof was embrode­red with siluer twists, and hanged very thicke with Aglets of Gold, the brauery whereof did not a litle grace her, being like­wise couered with a gréene silke mantle, because the dew should [Page] not hurt her. In this order as I haue told you, Latrania came downe and sate b [...] him, not speaking one word to him, because the thought he should speake first. The strange Knight, who was not woont to be abashed at any thing, presently caught hold on her Mantle▪ and for that she had her face couered, he spake to her in this manner.

I desire you (swéete soule) not to be offended, if I request to sée your [...]ace, whereby you may in some sort assure the doubt which as yet I remaine in. Latrania put by her Maske, and being accompanyed with a milde and affable countenance, she spake vnto him as followeth. You shall not now refuse (Syr Knight) to graunt me the request I haue continually desired at your hande. Alas (fayre Mistresse) you lay such hotte assaults but▪ my daunted Spirit (aunswered the straunge Knight) I must be same to yeelde, because the victorie shall be the more fa­mous. And it doth not a little reioyce me, that you haue thus take [...] the paines to come alone to comforte mee, for that you may perswade your selfe, my power is farre too weake to make resistaunce against all you foure: To which wordes Latrania thus replyed.

You haue oftentimes said to me (Sir knight) that there is no one vpon the Earth, hath greater desire to doe me seruice then your seke: but I cannot conceiue the same opinion, if you will not at this instant let me know who you are. Madame (said the straunge Knight) if I were in the seruice of any other, then might I easily graunt your request: but I will leaue you to thinke, what I will doe tomorrow when I must be imployed [...]. But [...]ward it doth not a little displease, that you are so vnwilling to regard me in your fa­uour▪ which I esteeme [...]he most especiall Fortune that can hap­pen to me if I could attaine the houre to reioyce in her presence whom (loue as the onely pillar and stay of my life: as I haue already witnessed to your companiōs, who may not presume to equall themselues with you, albeit their Beauties deserue good [...], yet you being so worthie to be serued, I intend to reueale my name to you, to the ende you may haue knowledge [...], whom you haue enforced to end [...]re so great trauell.

[Page] These worde gaue occasion of Latrania, to take him at the aduantage, because she might the better attaine her desire, and he likewise triumph in this great fauour, so that he declared his name to her: which when she vnderstood, her minde was indifferently [...]ased, for Latrania had (in times past) heard of his inconstant and vnfaithfull dealings, and seating least her honour likewise might happen to be impeached, she failed not presently to depart thence, promising not to discouer him to the other Ladies.

After that Latrania was thus departed from him, he deuised which way hee might exclude her out of his remembrance: but so great was the affection hee had vowed to her, and the conceyte of her delicate affections so pleasing to him, as they would not suffer him to forget her, but did so vehemently vexe and torment him, as it was vnpossible for him to [...] any quietnesse.

But Latrania sustained no such vnruly passions, for shée slept soundly till the morning, not making the other Ladies acquainted with that the strange Knight had told her: where­vpon Mansia spake to her in this manner. I knowe well La­trania, that you will make vs beléeue, how the Knight hath not discouered his name vnto you: wherefore I intend to goe prooue to morrowe morning when it shall be seene which of vs hath the most power ouer him. And if it so fall out, that hee will not reueale himselfe to none of vs foure, I shall repute his passions not so troublesome, as his complaints to seeme to witnesse.

Vpon this determination the Ladies rested, and so soone as the Sunne had showne his golden countenance on the earth, certaine of the Kings Court arriued in the fielde, who caused tents and pauilions to be presently [...]et vp, because the king and the Queene would come to see the Iousts that day. The Ladies wold not as yet come [...]oorth o [...] their chamber, because it was too carely, and for that the Iousts should not be begun before the King came: but it was not long before the King and Queene came to their Tents, accompanied with many honourable per­sonages, as also Ladies and Damosels of great calling.

[Page] The Iudges of the Fielde caused Tables to be set vp in the Valley, which were couered with cloathes of maruellous esti­mation, and there the King and Quéene refreshed themselues, inuyting into their companie the foure Ladyes, who were so stately Apparelled this day, as their beautie seemed to excell all the Ladyes that were come with the Queene. The straunge Knight went foorth of his Tent, that he might the better be­hold this sudden assemblie, and sitting downe at the roote of a Trée, his Esquyre brought him victuals to breake his fast with­all. After that the King was risen from the Table, these foure Ladyes (according to their woont) mounted on theyr Stéedes, and tooke theyr way to the place where the straunge knight re­mained, who euen then was readie to fall to his daylie exer­cise: they courteously saluting him, went with the Quéene to her Tent, and by the kings Tents the strange Knight stoode, expecting who should first beginne the Iouste. And the King himselfe, was greatly delighted in beholding the Garlandes, which for that they were the fauours of the Ladyes, and lost by the Knights that were foyled, he began highly to commend the Prowesse of the strange knight: who being ieasting with the foure Ladyes, he espyed at last to come along the Valley, the knight of the Sphere, Armed as he was the day before, and bea­ring his Ladies Garland on his Creast, which he had good hope to keepe well enough.

When the King Arnedes had espyed him, hee entered into these spéeches. I desire greatly to see that Garland of Flow­ers brought vanquished vnto these other: whereby I may bee the better assured, whether hee that preuaileth in these Con­quests so happily, may find his Péere else [...]where, or n [...]. The Knight of the Sphere, comming into the Kings presence, salu­ted him with humble obeysaunce, afterwards taking his Gar­land from his Helmet, he desired him to weare it: and if hee de­fended it not according to the merit of her Beautie, he desired it might bee placed among the other vanquished. But if the victorie happen on his side, he would not seeke any other recom­pence at her hands, but that those other Garlands might bee giuen to bestow on his Friends.

[Page] Of this request Latrania was very glad, and desirous to reach so high felicitie, where of throughly perswading her selfe, and likewise to satisfie the knight of the Spheres will, she put the garland on her head: then earnestly beholding the strange knight, she entred into these spéeches. You sée (Sir) the day, when I haue the meane to make known your knightly déedes, as also the desire you haue to doe me seruice. I will Madame so behaue my selfe (aunswered the straunge Knight) as you shall be perswaded no other knight can iniurie me, so great is my desire to accomplish such seruice, as may be agreeable to your gratious nature. And if afterward you make such re­gard of me, as you doe of those whom you are woont to thrust into forgetfulnes, I must then comfort my selfe with this, that I am not alone in misfortune, but beare my crosse with others for company.

The knight of the Sphere hauing vnderstood, how Latrania made no more regard of them that did her seruice, and séeing the Dice Fortunes hand, either to his continuall honour, or present disgrace, yet ignorant which of them should be his chance, ranne couragiously against she straunge Knight, they encountering together so worthily, as they were both compelled to forsake their stirrops. Vpon this gallant begin­ning, they tooke new staues, wherewith they met againe toge­ther so strongly, as the pieces flew whistling in the ayre: and passing forward, these Knightes met so furiously with their bodies, as they were constrained to tumble to the ground. At this sight the King was greatly abashed: but Latrania con­tented her selfe very well, séeing the noble and valiant beha­uiour of her Knight, who shée thought as good in all points as the stranger. These two Knights had no sooner recouered themselues, but they drew their swords, wherewith they hac­ked and hewed one another very pittifully. The straunge knight being desirous vs to passe this day, with as great renowne as he had all the other before, followed his intent with singu­lar agillitie: and the knight of the Sphere, to witnesse his ear­nest affection to Madame Latrania, did behaue himselfe like­wise so worthily, as each allowed him the name of a good and [Page] hardie Knight. And such was the difficultie of this Combate, promising hope to neither side, but very doubtfull on both: as the King esteemed it of no lesse danger, then that betwéene Don Edward of England his sonne, end Dramusiande and his Giants, when he was prisoner in the custody of the Enchaun­tresse Eutropa. And the King was extreamely passioned, fea­ring least two such noble champions should die in his presence: so fiercely they continued the fight, as they were both constrai­ned to withdrawe themselues to breath a while. The Knight of the Sphere, seeing his arme so mangled, began to thinke his estate in some hazard: but afterwards remembring the beau­tie of her, for whose sake he thrust himselfe into danger, hée cōmuned thus priuately with himselfe. What greater good can happen to me in all the world, then to be allowed in her ser­uice▪ whose beautie none in all the French Court may match? In the meane while these two knights thus paused, the Da­mosell that was woont to come so often into the field, addressed her selfe now againe to the strange knight, vsing vnto him this language.

I desire now to sée (Syr Knight) how you will iustifie the large promises you haue made to me, for that I perswade my selfe, the Knight of the Sphere will restore these Ladies with the losse of your life: and he being earnest the victorie should fall on his side in reuenge of the offence you haue offered vnto them, will yeeld your Tree decked with these Garlands of flowers in­to their handes that best deserue them, to which wordes the strange knight thus answered.

It is t [...]e long enough (faire Damosell) since I perceiued the small good will you bare me, but since I now perceiue that my misfortune is so agreeable vnto you, I desire you to make knowne vnto the Ladies, that I make no account of their fauouring me, being well assured, that they are woont to vse such recompence towards them who aduenture their liues in their seruice.

Wherefore, that they shall well vnderstand that my force tooke his nature in times past, by the gratious regard of one most singular Lady: I desire them to keepe their woonted co­uetousnesse [Page] of their beauty. And I shall decen [...] that Latra­nia vse her fauour towards him, whom it pleaseth her to make most account off.

When he had thus said, he returned to the Combate▪ which helde betweene them a long while: but when they perceiued their Armor defaced, their flesh martyred, and themselues very greatly feebled, they once againe withdrewe themselues to rest a little.

The King Arnedes was loth two such hardy knights should end their liues in so desperate maner, the quarrell being of so small estimation, there he would haue had them them parted a­sunder. And the strange Knight, thinking on the discourte­ous entertainement Latrania affoorded him, disdainedence to looke on her: but the Knight of the Sphere made such account of her beauty, as in his silent thoughts he vttered these words. I would I were as fortunate, and my déedes as worthy, as I sée you coye in accepting of those, who render their very soules subiect vnto you.

So breaking off, he closed againe with the strange Knight, who in troth was not slowe in receiuing him: and I assure you their liues had béene in very great danger at this third triall, if it had not beene for the arriuall of a damosell, who being moun­ted on a white Palfray, and her haire hanging ouer both her shoulders, came to the strange Knight crying so loude, as her voice brought an Eccho of the whole Forrest. At this sight eue­ry one was suddainely abashed, and chiefely these two knights, who separated themselues, to know [...]th cause of the Damosels lamentations, which she came to vtter before the seure Ladies desiring them to let vs vnderstand, for what reason these two knights entred the Combate.

Mansia tolde her, how they fought for Madame Latrania: wherevpon the Damosell approched to her, ent [...]ing into these spéeches. Madam, if life and honor ought to be preferred before vncertaine appetites & afflictions, I desire you humbly to allow aid and [...]uccor to two distressed Damosels, who not farre from this place are in great danger to loose their honour, which they esteeme of greater price then their liues: out of which trouble [Page] they shall be soone deliuered, if it may please you to let mee haue one of these Knights, who endure a hotte Combatte for your Loue. When she had thus spoken, she shed such aboundaunce of teares, and deliuered forth so many scalding sighes, as Latra­nia was enforced to misse of her desire, thinking to see the ende of the Combate betweene these Knights: on which behalfe, the King (séeing Latrania make no answer,) spake vnto the Damo­sell in this manner.

Which of these two Knights (faire Damosell) doe you desire to haue with you? because you shall perceiue my willingnes to intreate for you. If it please your Maiestie (answered the Da­mosel) they are both so good Knights, as I know not well which of them I should request: neuerthelesse, I will make choyse of the Knight that bereth his shéeld couered.

Latrania had no sooner heard the Damsells words, but shee presently came betwéene the two Knightes, giuing in shewe, that the Straunge Knight should not suffer any refusall, and wherevpon she spake to him thus, Syr Knight, if for the suc­cour of the afflicted, Armes were first inuented, I pray you, that the teares of Damosell, and the loue you say you beare me, may cause you to forsake this Combate, and moue you to goe helpe the oppressed Ladies.

Madame (saide the straunge Knight) for me to obey you in this cause, were very fond and vnaduised, yet would I doe it, if I were not busied about especiall matters, for you may per­swade your selfe, that the Bond wherein I haue tyed my selfe, doth defend me from satisfying your commaundement: consi­dered also. Madame Torsia may finde her selfe offended, that I should now in this manner slip from her, and not giue her her due, her Beautie worthily deseruing it.

I pray you sir (quoth Torsia) that you would witnesse your Seruice for my Loue, in the place where this Damosell will conduct you. I am co [...]tent to obey your commaundement, (answered the strange Knight,) if you likewife will goe in our companie: for I haue taken this condition of you, not to be depriued of your companie, during my limitted time of guar­ding this Valley.

[Page] Madame (said the damosel to Latrania) the knight doth per­fectly let you vnderstand, that he is an obedient seruant to loue, as your selfe may well perceiue, séeing he preferreth his pleasure before your will. Wherefore I desire you to intreate the other Knights to goe with me, for I am of the opinion, you shall finde him more affectionate to you, then he whom yo [...] haue reposed so much hope in. Latrania being willing to plea­sure the Damosell, beganne to intreate the Knight of the Sphere, that it might stand with his pleasure to giue ouer the Combate, and assist them with his ayde, who were in great hazard.

Madame (answered the knight of the Sphere) I know it is no great harme for me to let alone the Combate, mine ene­my being such a noble and redoubted Knight: yet would I not haue any one to thinke, that in respect of feare or dismay­ing in my selfe I let this passe thus, for that I know my selfe, sufficient enough for a greater matter. Marry, as concerning your request, the earnest loue I beare you is such and so great, as I am content to suffer whatsoeuer you will lay vppon me, onely to satisfie and content your will.

Then turning to the strange Knight, he beganne againe in this manner, I pray you (Sir) thus to imagine and think, that my earnest desire to purchase the loue of Madame Latrania, hath bene some hinderance to you of the victory, albeit you made some assurance thereof in your owne conceit. Indéede (answered the strange Knight) I sée it is very hard for a man to get any aduantage of you, without putting his owne life in great danger: for I assure, your stroakes haue béene so well laid on me, as they haue made me to conceiue so good o­pinion of your valour, whereof since I am so well assured, it doth not a little please me, that so good a knight shall goe in this Damosels cause. But ere you depart, I would very gladly vnderstand your name, to the end Latrania may ha [...]e know­ledge of him, to whom (of necessitie) she must account her selfe greatly indebted. The king himselfe (who was no lesse desi­rous to know him, then the strange knight) desired him ear­nestly to reueale himselfe to him.

[Page] The knight of the Sphere, séeing the kings great importuni­tie, tooke off his Helmet, and kneeled downe to kisse his Maie­sties hand, but he perceiuing him to be his friend Dramusian­de would not so permit him, but casting his armes about his necke, embraced him with maruellous gratious courtesie, be­ing very sory that his suddaine departure, would not suffer him to regard him as he willingly would. And hee would not let him part, before he had made him knowne to the Quéene and and the other Ladies, who declare to the king, what a benefite the knowledge of the strange knight would be to them. Alasse (quoth the King) I would as willingly knowe him as any of you all, and I am much out of quiet with my selfe, that I haue not knowne him all this while.

Oh Syr (saide Dramusiande) I beséech you to expectt yet a little longer, vntill his enterprise shall be ended: for I am of the opinion that he will not then seeke to depart hence, before hée make himselfe first knowne to your Grace.

The Damosell presented her selfe before him, declaring it was high t [...]e they should be gone, wherevpon he tooke his leaue of Latrania, who esteemed her selfe aboue all the other Ladies, in that she had the power to bring into her obeysance so good a knight as was Dramusiande. After his departure, the King and Quéene rode to the Citie, where they daily commen­ded the singular prowesse of the strange Knight, in that he kept his charge so well.

The Ladies of the Court would not depart thence, before they first might haue the Garlands their seruants had lost, wherevpon, they came all togither to the trée, and caught them all away violently, the strange Knight not daring to resist them.

CHAP. XLV.
Of that which the strange Knight did the day following, gar­ding the Valley.

WHen the King and all his Courtly atten­dants were thus departed, the foure Ladies tooke their way to the Monastery, and the strange Knight went into his tent, where he sate downe to rest himselfe: afterward, as he kept it for his custome, he went and walked vnder the gréene Trées, and the Ladies determined, who should this night goe visite this amo­rous Louer.

Mansia, who this night must go parley with the knight, had put on a wastcoate of blew Taffata, wrought all ouer the bo­dy with net [...]worke of Gold, wherein were composed diuerse ranckes o [...] very rich Orient Pearles, and by them were placed Stones of inestimable value. Her haire was wound in fine plats about her head, being couered with an imbrodered Gar­land of blewe Veluet, wherein was set a faire Plume of white Feathers, very beautifully adorned with spangles of Gold.

In this order as I haue declared to you, Mansia came and sate downe by the strange Knight, and to auoide suspition, shee tooke off her Garland, not fearing to be hurt or impeached by the Serena, or else for the desire she had to be the perfecter séene. Then laying her hand vpon his head, she beganne as followeth. I will (Syr) at this time forbid any manner of com­plaint, in that your selfe shall not deny, how all the paines past are to be forgotten, and all seruices are to be recompenced by gratious visitation, especially, seeing I take pleasure to fauour you so much at this time.

[Page] The strange knight was supprised with such excéeding ioy, as he could not possibly make her any answer, for the beautie of Mansia had so rauished his vnderstanding, as he was not mindfull in vsing any gracious language, wherewith he ought to haue entertained her: but after this sodaine ioy was some­what calmed, he then failed not to account of her maruellous honourably, wherewith she remained verie well contented, and to giue her further occasson of spéech, he began to court her in this manner.

Madame, I know wel that your good nature is: to sée the de­serts of doubtfull trauailes requited, and he that should iudge otherwise, were vnworthie the gracious visitation you haue afforded me: assuring you, that this is the most especiall recom­pence can happen to me, hauing the meanes to contemplate your excellent beauty, which no other may presume to paragon. And if you your selfe haue not the same opinion, trust me, you shew your selfe very ingratefull to Nature, who hath framed you such an one, as may iustly be called the Phoenix of beau­tie: whom I haue so déepely imprinted in my heart, as I shall be extreamely tormented, when I shall be depriued of your swéete company. Yet I am greatly abashed, how you digest it so wel, to sée him suffer such paine and greefe, who deserueth to be better estéemed of you, you hauing the power to cause him liue contentedly, or die presently. I pray you Sir (saide Mansia) before you passe any further, tell me if you vse these spéeches to Latrania or no? Trust me Lady (quoth he) her curio­sitie was so much, as I did not make any great account of her when she was with me, and then perhaps I might be forgetful of many things, especially, to her whom so many Knights are bound to: for when the mind is else where grounded, all amo­rous representations are thrust in obliuion which is not so ma­dame towardes you, who may altogether dispose of my serui­tude, euen as she that hath the only power ouer me. Then sée­ing it is so, I pray you humbly (good Lady to iudge, to which of you foure I am most affectionate, & after you haue wel aduised your self, on the seueral perfectiōs of the other ladies you cānot yet denie, but you are aduantaged aboue them all in beautie, [Page] grace and authoritie: so that I estéeme my selfe most fortunate being depriued of my libertie, & altogether vowed to obey you.

Mansia being not able to withhold her selfe, from giuing cre­dite to the strange knights golden words, and not thinking how he had vsed Latrania in the same manner: she beganne to come more néere him, and laying her hand on his shoulder, she shaped him this answer. If this matter be so (Sir) as you séeme to make it, I humbly desire you to tell me who you are: to the end I may with the greater assurance ioyne my beléefe to your perswasions. I perceiue then (answered the strange knight) the small assurance you repose in me: so saying, he tooke her by the hand, which she suffered very quietly. And so amorous he was in words, as at last he bewrayed himselfe vnto her: and perswaded her, that the griping one another by the hand, was a certaine beginning of loue. So that this little fauour made him somewhat more bold, and furder he would haue procéeded, but the Lady left him and departed: being as glad that she knew who he was, as she had left him without hope to purchase his intent.

The strange knight was extreamely passioned, séeing that her quicknes, and the light regard of loue wherewith she was accompanyed, made him so scornefully entertained: yet could he not blame her alone, for that he was so vsed of them all. In many sad conceits he passed away the night, ripping vp the in­tricate sorrowes he [...]as bound to suffer: but when the day appeared, he mounted on horsebacke, vowing to reuenge the iniurie he had receiued that night, on any Knight he should happen to deale withall. But he found himselfe farre decei­ued in his intent, for the knights of the French Court had gi­uen ouer, for comming any more to trouble him, whereat he was somewhat offended: neuerthelesse he dissembled his gréefe that the Ladies might behold his wonted passions.

Latrania was very much displeased, because the Iousts were not continued as they were woont: againe, she doubted least the Knight of the Sphere had sustained the foyle in the Damoselles cause, by reason he was so ouercharged with tra­uaile before he went. The which she would be very sorry [Page] should so fall out, for that by his prowesse he had giuen the aduantage ouer her companieos, for which cause she remai­ned continually affectionate towards Dramusiande. As con­cerning the aduenture he followed, the history maketh no other mantion of it, but this: that the Damosell was sent by the Sage Aliarts meanes, onely to succour the liues of these two knights, to be imployed in ayding the Emperour of Con­stantinople, to which place the Damosell had caused Dramusi­ande to take his way, albeit he was very loath to forsake La­trania.

After that these sixe dayes were thus past, which were de­dicated to the honor of Mansia, Telansia and Latrania, the two dayes reserued for Torsia were come at last: whereof the strange knight was glad, in that he intended to doe more for her, then he had done for all the rest. All the first day it was not his chance to haue any aduenture, because no one knight presented himselfe in the Valley, wherefore he passed away the time till night, when hee went to his accustomed place, where he had not staied long, but Telansia came to him, being in a Taffata wastcoate of Indian collour, very richly spangled ouer the bodie, and on her head were Iewells of great estima­tion. Thus she came to the strange Knight, desiring him to certifie her who he was: whereto hée made her this aun­swer.

I perceiue Madame, how Loue altogether entendeth to de­priue them of life, who are desirous to doe him seruice, and the more extreamely to plague and punish me, that the paines of the other oppressed soules may not compare with mine: for he hath made me thus to vnderstand, that your seuerall visitati­ons are to no other end, but onely to gaine the knowledge of me, without any will or desire in you, to pittie my continuall dying spirit, or to regard my dangerous trauailes, wherein you seeke to prolong my loathed life, though I dayly desire to breathe my last.

If you iudge my words to sauour of any forgerie, you may compare my continuall iustnesse with my present behauiour, and you shall finde your owne, iudgement a witnesse against [Page] your selfe: how you ought not so to disdaine his kindnesse, who hath guarded this passage vnder she honour of your name, whereby you may triumph with perpetuall renowne. All these causes considered, me thinkes you should not vse such ingrati­tude to the knight, who hath béene the occasion you are so much estéemed, and is also affectionate towards you.

Sir knight (answered Telansia) I know not whether your wordes are forged or no, albeit the custome of such as you is, to mingle many deceits among your complaints: but if you would perswade me to belieue what you say, grant me that you haue refused to my companions, that is, to tell me what and who you are?

Faire Lady (answered the strange Knight) to tell you who I am, I shall not greatly make daintie: assuring you, that I durst not reueale it to any of the other, for that my speciall ser­uice is to honour you. And you shall vnderstand that I am called the Knight of the Sauage man, from which name tru­ly you may change me, doing me the honour to be called your seruant.

Sir Florian (answered Telansia) one of the signes whereby I know the small loue you beare be, is in reuealing your name to me, the other, for that I know you more account of the other Ladies then of me: and no doubt you haue fained to them all, as you haue done to me, therefore I pray you be not offended, for you and I must néeds part company.

So rising by she departed thence, promising not to discouer him to the end his enterprise might not be hindered. The day following, which was the last he had to trie his valour on Tor­siaes behalfe, he entred the [...]ielde, hoping this day to purchase immortall renowne.

CHAP. XVI.
Of that which happened to the strange knight, the last day he guarded the passage, vnder the name of madame Torsia

THe strange Knight stayed till it was after noone forth of his Tent, yet not one knight entred the Valley, which made him report to the Ladies, that the feare their seruants had of him, in guarding thē, had now cau­sed them to forget the affection they were woont in words to beare them: wherof they foure agréeued: so that they mounted on thier Palfrays, were al and came to commune with their knights, who vsed them with lesse pleasant behauiourr then they had done before.

Whilst these Ladies were thus conferring with the strange knight, they espyed comming thrée knights, their armor being in colours, white, blacke and scarlet, and each one had figured in his shéeld, a Swan in a field of Sable. One of these knights was named Alemant, the other two were Italians, and Ale­mant called himselfe Lambort of Saxonie: he trauailing to Constantinople, met with these two Italians, who perswaded him to trauaile with them to the Castle of Almaroll willing likewise to approue the aduenture, was soone intreated to beare them company, and their complections being very dif­ferent, they fell out of their way: then hearing of the aduen­ture of these foure French L [...]dies, they addicted their iourney presently to the French Court, perswading themselues to end the aduenture, wherein so many good and hardy knights had fayled. And being thus armed all after▪ one manner, they [Page] arriued in the valley now on the last day of the Ladies aduenture. I know well (said the strange knight so soone as he had espied them) that fortune did not intend to suffer me this day, without shewing you (faire Ladie) the great desire I hauè, to be accepted among the number of your best fauoured seruants: for you may perswade your selfe, that no Knight whatsoeuer hath power to resist against me, when I haue you swéete Lady in my presence.

While the straunge Knight this reposed with Torsia, the thrée Knights were arriued in the field, and after they had ad­uisedly beheld the beautie of these foure Ladies, they could not iudge which of them did most excell in beautie. But so it was that their affections were contrarie, for the two Italians enter­prised the Combate for Latrania, and Alemant was altogether inueigled with the beautie of Mansia.

These Ladies were so well pleased as possible could be, that they should be serued by Kinghts of strange Nations, which made them vse such great courtesie and fauour towards them, as they had not done the like to any of the King Arnedes court: whereat the strange knight was so mooued, as he presently pre­pared himselfe to the Ioust. Brucie of Verona one of the Itali­ans, was the first that beganne the pastime: but the strange knight met with him in such sort, as he was sent to the ground with his héeles vpward.

Which the other Italian perceiuing, who was named Tru­cie of Beroze▪ he gaue his horse the spurres: but in the encoun­ter he was sent to kéepe his fellowe company. This much dis­pleased Lambrot of Saxonie, who was estéemed a good knight, when setting his Launce in a rest, the two knights met toge­ther so brauely, as Lambrot was vnhorsed with his Saddle betwéene his legges, and the strange knight was forced to for­sake both his stirrops.

Then Alemant calling to the Combate with the sword, the strange Knight alighted from his horse, but the two Italians would not suffer Alemant to enter the Combate, for they saide the aduantage belonged to them, because they were first dis­mounted, Vpon this they fell at much variance among them­selues, [Page] which was incontinently appeased by the foure Ladies, who ordained, that Brucian of Verona should begin the Com­bate first: but he was so entertained by the strange Knight, as Trucie of Beroze was constrained to come helpe him. Where­at the strange Knight was so mooued, as in short time he layde Brucie of Verona at his feete: and Trucie of Beroze was sore hurt, as he was glad to flie to the Ladies for refuge, who desi­red the strange knight to saue his life.

Alemont desirous to reuenge the iniury his two friends had receiued, drew his sword, and buckling on his Sheeld, came ve­ry fiercely to assayle the strange knight: but he dealt so roughly with him, and followed his intent with such nimble and braue behauiour, as Alemant found he dealt with one stronger then himselfe. Yet was he of this mind, that he rather desired to die at his hands, then to demand any succour of the Ladies: who were so greatly mooued with pittie, fearing to see him die before them, as they came and desired the strange knight to giue ouer the Combate.

At their request he was contented being very glad he had so well accomplished his promise, giuing them to vnderstand, that to do them seruice he could be perswaded easily to enterprise a­ny other aduenture: but for that it was night, they courteously tooke their leaue of him, and went againe to the Monasterie, leauing him now in as great extremitie of greefe, as they had done any of the dayes passed before. And I must not forget to tel you how the Ladies likewise gaue the three knights a friendly farewell, who withdrewe themselues also to their Lodging, and the day following tooke their way whither▪ Fortune gui­ded them: being vnwilling to go visite the Court againe, much lesse to returne to their Ladies, for whose sakes they had recei­ued so great shame.

The straunge Knight remembring himselfe how Torsiaes turne came to visite him, made no account of his passed tra­uaile, but went to his accustomed place, where hee long loo­ked for the presence of Torsia. And albeit he thought to con­ceale himselfe from her, yet was it not possible for him so to doe: for hee not onely bewrayed his name vnto her, but hee [Page] would haue discoursed his whole life to her likewise, if she had bin disposed to haue giuen the hearing. Not long it was before Totsia tooke her way to the place, where the other Ladies had bene before, being in her night apparell, a wastcoate of blacke Taffata, the bodies all richly wrought euer with pasement lace of gold, [...]oure fingers bread, and betwéene curry lace were costly pearles and stones, which did set her forth in such a bra­uery, as would haue amazed the [...]réest knight in the world.

Her mantle was of blew Veluet, wrought round about with [...]cures of gold verie sumptvously, and in this manner she came and sate downe by the knight: but he being fearefull to mooue effence any way, durst not take the hardinesse to speake to her, whereupon she spake thus. I did not thinke (Sir) [...]hat my comming would be of so [...]ender estimation to you, as I perceiue you make it: but I did alwayes misdoubt you, and therefore I am now deceiued.

Madame (answered the strange knight) the pleasure I re­ceiue by your arriuall, is so great, as it deprined me of the vse of my spéech, whereat I sée you are offended, and reputed me otherwise then a loyall seruant, for that I did not aduaunce my selfe to entertaine you with such graciers behauiour, as your excellencie well deserueth. But you doe not remember (swéet mistresse) that if I had spoken to you, my talke [...] nothing else but the woonted gréeuous complaints, [...] which I am afraide to commit to light (albeit I haue iust occasion) such was and is my doubt (faire Madam) of displeasing you. I am not ignorant (answered Torsia) that he neuer wants ex­cuses, who knowes how to shift for himselfe. You haue giuen forth your selfe daily vnder the name of an obedient seruant to me, which I cannot beléeue, much lesse abide to accept any Knight in my seruice, who will not or dare not reueale his name, the onely thing truely wherefore I am come hither at this time. Madame (said the strange knight) I know not whe­ther I should declare my name vnto you [...], and remaine passio­nate to vnderstand of you, who is the Knight to whome you beare most fauour: or conceale my selfe to your excellency, con­tinuing my s [...]lfe still afflicted, and leauing you vncontented.

[Page] I assure you, I can make slender choyse of either of these two extreames, not knowing which of them may hurt me most, yet must I put it in aduenture, since my good hap is tyed to the heeles of Mercurie.

Therefore you shall vnderstand Madame, that I am called the Knight of the Sauage man in all Princes Courts, where I haue receiued greater fauour at the Ladyes hands, then I haue done here in the French Court: albeit I haue done my dutie in seruice towards them that beare the prize in beautie, especially to you, whom I honour in affection aboue all other.

And seeing I haue thus discoursed my name vnto you, I de­sire you to thinke, that my complaints are on iust occasion: but if it be true, that Loue is woont to enforce them suffer, who trauaile and serue him with fidelitie, I shall rest content to be so well recompenced. For such is the especiall good will I beare you, that I desire my life may be prolonged onely to pleasure you: not regarding my often banishent from hope to despaire, nor the sundry vnsauorie sweetes wherewith I must feed my selfe, onely by the froward and rigorous stormes, which dayly and hourely come from you.

Therefore I desire you good Madame, somewhat to regard him in pittie, who hath no other will, but onely to suffer what euer you lay on him, and would refuse no torment, so he knew you did fancie it, or thinke well on it.

Sir Knight (answered Torsia) if I should be deceiued by such faire and plausible speeches, it were vnpossible for me to [...]hunne any misfortune, for I should accompany the two prin­cesses Targiana and Arnalte: but because I know you so well, and would be loath to beare a part in their complaints, I am content at this time to leaue you.

When she had thus said, she presently rose and departed, ac­counting▪ her assurance small in his company, because euerie one knew of the sundry prankes of the Knight of the Sauage man: but he was maruellously offended at the sodaine depar­ture of Torsia, and brake forth in complaints still, as though she were in his company. Albeit Lady (quoth he) the remem­brance of your vngentlenesse maketh me despaire, yet your [Page] presence hath power to helpe my dolour, in reioycing my trou­bled sight, giuing comfort to my afflicted soule, and knitting vp all complaints with your sweete companie: but being de­priued of you, these fainting armes fold vp the dying coarse, and so with many a deadly sigh accompany their Maister to their latter home,

After he had moned a pretty space in this manner, he conclu­ded with himselfe to forget these Ladies, and entring into con­ceit of their crueltie, he slept soundly till the next morning. Then so soone as he was armed, he caused Arlencea and the Damo­sels to be sent for, who had all this while remained in the mo­nasterie with the Nuns: they giuing them most harty thankes for their friendes vsage, set forward on their way with the Knight of the Sauage man, who now would haue his Shield no longer couered.

The foure Ladies bare them company a little way on their Palfreys, being glad they could let the King knowe what hee was, and very faine they would haue had him with them to the Court: but when they perceiued their labour was all in vaine, Torsia smiling, spake to him thus. Trust me sir, by the te [...]tes which fall from mine eyes, me thinkes you take your parting heau [...]ly, or euery teare is as bigge as a Milstone. Lady (quoth he) the fire that is kindled in my stomach by your loue, is of such nature as the water cannot quench.

But seeing you make so light account of him, who hath hum­bled himselfe [...] much to you, I will despise Loue, who is the occasion of such a misfortune. And this you may assure your selfe, I will gage the heart (which once did present it selfe to you in another place, to trie if I shalbe better entertained, then I haue beene at your hands. So parting from them, he set for­ward on his iourney, desiring to attaine the Citie of Constan­tinople.

CHAP. XLVII.
How the Knight of the Sauge man, arriued at the Court of Constantinople: And how Dragonalt and Arnalte the Queene of Nauarre, came likewise to the Emperours Court.

LOng trauailed the Knight of the Sauage man, till at last hee came into a Forrest somewhat néere the Citie of Constantino­ple, where he espied a number of Knights, Ladies and Damosels, which made him presently suspect the Emperor to be in their company, as he was indéede: for he had béen abroad with them to sée his falcons flie, and for that age would not suffer him to ride on horsebacke, he was in a Coach, accom­panied with the Empresse and other Princesse of the Court, who peroeiuing the knight of the Sauage man comming, and fiue Damosels in his company, they knew him so soone as they beheld the deuise his Shield.

Then came they togither to méete him in such a troupe, as the Knight of the Sauage man was very ioyfull to see himselfe so welcome to his friends: amongst them was his Brother Palmerin of England, who came and embraced him with ex­céeding humanitie.

Arlencea being alighted from her horse, he tooke her by the hand, and brought her before the Emperour, and when he had kissed his hand, he desired his excellencie that it might be his pleasure to remember, how much he was beholding to that la­dy, who saued him from falling into the handes of cruell Col­lambra, her mother. Arlencea humbled her selfe to the Empe­rour, her huge stature being much wondred at of all the La­dies: but the Emperour shewed himselfe very gracious vnto her: in like manner did the Empresse and Gridonia. But Leo­narda, [Page] the Princesse of Thrace, suspecting the Knight of the Sauage mans minde was not on her, entertained Arlencea, but euen so.

In the meane while these Ladies were thus ioyfully enter­taining Arlencea, the knight of the Sauage man was aduerti­sed of the death of King Fredericke of England his Grandfa­ther: at which tidings he was so heauy, as he was enforced to forsake their company, and rode into the Citie before them. And after he was come to the Pallace, he consumed certaine dayes in mournings, vntill the time compelled him to goe visit the Princesse Leonarda his Lady.

The Emperour caused Arlencea to be mounted on horse­backe againe, making very especiall estimation of her, for as she was endued with exquisite beautie, so was she adorned with very gratious maners, which liked euery one well that beheld her: especially Dramusiande, who was now so farre in loue with her, as he had quite forgotten Latrania.

As the Emperour was about to returne into the Cittie, he espyed come riding along the Forrest diuers Ladyes and Da­mosels, accompanyed with diuers knights, who were offered the Ioust by them attendant on the Emperour. Which the principal knight in the company perceiuing, and desirous beside to try his valour before such an assembly, tooke a strong Lance, and clapping downe the Beuer of his Helmet, came and pre­sented himselfe to the Lady in the company, who had the au­thoritie to command all the other. And hauing taken his leaue of her, he gaue his horse the spurs, and was so fortunate in the encounter, as he sent Bellizant out of his saddle.

Afterward with another Lance, which one of the Knights gaue him in his hand, he sent foure more good and especiall Knights of the Emperours Court to the ground, whereat the Emperour maruelled, and noting the braue behauiour of this Knight, he caused to be sent him certaine Lances, but before they could be receiued, a Damosell came and saluted the Em­peror from the knight in this maner. Renowmed Emperour, Dragonalt the King of Nauarre, being desirous to content the Princesse Arnalte his Quéen and wife, hath thus presumed to [Page] Ioust with your Knights: but when he vnderstood your High­nesse was in place, he commanded me to infourme your Maie­stie, how he hath left his owne realme, to offer his humble du­tie to your excellencie.

The Emperour and the Empresse hearing the Damoselles words, were supprised with vnspeakeable pleasure, enten­ding to entertaine Dragonalt with as much honour as could be deuised: as well for knowing him to be the Sonne of a va­liant Prince, and Nephew to King Frisoll, as also to mooue the affection of his Queene Arnalte, in more ample maner to him, and so without any further stay they went to meete them. Which when Dragonalt and the Queene Arnalte beheld, they alighted from their horses, and holding one another by the hand, went to meete the Empresse: who likewise to do them the greater honour, came on feete accompanied with Gridonia Polinarda, Leonarda, & diuers other Ladies, each of them im­bracing them with their humanitie, letting them vnderstand, how the emperors court was highly honored by their presence.

After they had on all sides sufficiently welcomed these prin­ces, Dragonalt and Arnalte mounted on horsebacke: but Pal­merin alighted, and taking the bridle of Arnaltes horse in his hand, so walked on til he came to the pallace, wherat the prin­cesse Polinarda beganne to waxe somewhat iealous. Arnalte well noting the beautie of the two Princesses, Polinarda, and the faire Leonarda of Thrace, began to thinke, that they which enterprised the Combate in Spaine for the fairest in the world, did witnesse their manhood in a iust occasion: albeit, next to these two, her selfe was esteemed the third for beautie in the Emperours Court, but when the Princesse Miragarda came thither, she was constrained to be the fourth in number. Dra­gonalt, and the Quéene Arnalte were lodged verie neere the Empresse Chamber, and Arlencea and her Damosels, were guests to the Duchesse of Lubicall, the chiefe Lady about the Empresse.

The Emperour caused dayly Iousts and Tournements, to witnesse the Quéene Arnalte, that her presence was very a­greeable to him. Dramusiande was so conquered with the [Page] loue Arlencea, as he could rest in no place, neither enioy any quietnesse. Palmerin (who liued now in more content then he had of long time before) did not yet thinke all things sound and sure, for that Lone presenteth daily some occasions of feare to amorous persons, vntill such time as their desires are per­fectly contented. In the meane while this great ioy continued, Pompides King of Scottes with his Queene, arriued at the Emperors Cour, who were receiued with maruellous great pompe and honour.

The Prince Primaleon desirous to shewe himselfe thanke­full for diuerse occasions had passed betweene the Prince Don Edward and himselfe, ledde the Queene of Scottes Palfray by the bridle, till she came to the Pallace Gate, notwithstanding, the intreatie of Pompides and her selfe very often to the con­trarie.

The Quéene of Scottes was lodged with the princesse Poli­narda, who held her selfe greatly contented, because shee was so neere in alliance to her most fauoured friend. Palmerin and Pomp des went to comfort the Knight of the Sauage man in his chamber, where he kept, and would not as yet goe abroad, so heauily he tooke the death of King Fredericke, his Grandfa­ther. The Court of Constantinople, was in short time so well furnished with Princes and noble Knights, as they were iud­ged more then needed, to entertaine the whole puissance of the Pagan Kings.

CHAP. XLVIII.
How Arnedes King of Fraunce and his Queene, Recinde King of Spaine and his Queene, accompanied with the Princesse Miragarda, and the Giant Almaroll, arriued at the Emperours Court of Constantinople.

[Page] THe Emperour séeing himselfe brought into the extremity of age, thought good to enioyn his Nephewe in marriage, and also the o­ther Princes and Knights that had béene nourished in his court: and that he might mooue a generall good liking by so doing, he imparted his intent to the Empresse and his sonne, Primaleon. When hee vnderstood how well they thought of the matter, hée writ presently to Arnedes King of France, his sonne in lawe, that he would doe him so much ho­nour as to come with the Quéene to his Court. In like man­ner his Maiestie dispatched letters to Don Edward, King of England, and Flerida his daughter: to Recinde king of Spaine, desiring him and his Quéene to come to his Court, and bring the Princesse Miragarda in their company. The Emperour Vernar was sent for likewise, and Tarnaes King of Lacede­monia, with his Daughter Sidelia, whose beautie caried some credit at that time, and the Soldane Bellagris, with Maiortes, and many others, the Emperour by his Letters inuited to his Court. But the first that came to Constantinople were the Emperour Vernar, and King Edward of England: soone after came the Soldane Bellagris and Maiortes, their entertaine­ment being according as their noble estates deserued. Then came the King Tarnaes with his Quéene, Sidelia his Daugh­ter, and the sorrowfull Lady Pandricia, whom the Empresse lodged in her owne Chamber. The two Kings, Arnedes and Recinde, arriued with their Shippes at the Port of Constan­tinople, and sounded their Trumpets and Drummes so gal­lantly as the people were afraide in the Cittie, fearing left their enemies were come: but the Princesse came to receiue them with great ioy, where they might behold the King of France in a sumptuous Galley, couered with cloath of Golde of great value, wherein was himselfe, his Quéene, Florenda and Graciana his two Daughters, with many Ladies and Knightes beside. In another Galion was the King Recinde [Page] and the Quéene, with a number of Knights for his Guarde. Before them in another Galion, was the fairest Princesse Miragarda, the Giant Almaroll, the Prince Florendos, and many other knights. The King Recinde being aduertised, that the Emperour intended to marry the Princesse to his Nephewe Florendos, with the King Arnedes consent (to doe them the more honour) caused their Galion to march formost, as the Captaine ouer all the other Vesselles. The Empe­rour was so glad of these tydings, as hée forsooke his Coatch, and was brought in a chayre to the place where these Prin­ces should land, and the Empresse with the Quéenes, Prin­cesses, and Ladies, mounted on their horses, which were clad in most rich and costly harnesse, and so they ridde to the Port of the Citie very stately. There was the Emperour, accom­panied with his Sonne Primaleon, king Edward of Eng­land, the Emperour Vernar of Allemaigne, Soldane Bella­gris, Maiortes, Ternaes the king of Lacedemonia, Polendos, Estrelant, Pompides and Dragonalt, and no little ioy it was to him in his aged yéeres, to see himselfe so beloued of the most puissant Princes that were in the whole world: but albeit the presence of these great personages was ve [...]y pleasant to him, yet could hee not choose but take it heauily, séeing the preasse so fore vppon him, as long hée could not bée a companion for them.

The kings Arnedes, and Recinde, and the Prince Flo­rendos, being all come on land, they knéeled downe to kisse the Emperours hand, but he imbracing them in his armes, would not suffer him to honour him so much, then came the Quéene of Spaine, and the Quéene of France, with her two daughters, whom his Maiestie welcomed very familiarly. And when the Princesse Miragarda came into his presence, he ac­cepted of her maruellous graciously, entring into these spéeches to her.

I am very glad (Madame) that you would vouchsafe to come hither, where I may requite the great gentlenesse I haue found at your hands, in prouiding to detaine the Prince Albay­zar in so good securitie.

[Page] The Princesse Miragarda made no other answere, but with a milde and Princely courtesie, made showe how well shee tooke the Emperours words: and I assure you, her presence a­bashed the iudgements of a number, in whose eyes she seemed the faicest creature on the earth.

The Giant Almaroll was likewise very welcome to the Emperour, and when the Princesse Polinarda had courteously saluted Miragarda, she shrunke aside to her Brother Floren­dos entertaining him with this language. I perceiue new wel (my Lord and Brother) that you haue good cause to thinke your labour well bestowed in that you haue trauelled for a Lady of so singular beautie. I would with all my heart, good Sister (an­swered Florendo) that I had the due recompence my labour hath deserued, so might I be in the better assurance. Oh Bro­ther (said Polinarda) the Giant Almaroll hath no authoritie to shut the doore against you here, therefore I promise you, the Princesse of Thrace and I will not [...]orget to enterprise the meanes, whereby you shall (no doubt) finde fauour.

The Emperour would delay the time no longer, but to the Pallace they rode altogether, the Prince Primalcon leading the Queene of Spaines horse by the bridle, albeit the King Re­cinde was very loth to suffer him. The King Polendos did as much honour to the Queene of Fraunce, and King Edward of England afforded the like to the faire Princesse Miragarda, as well to content the aged Emperor, as to honour his kinseman the Prince Florendos: Palmerin of England, did the like to the faire Florenda and Florian of the Forrest, to the Princesse Gracia [...]a, in briefe, the Princesse and Knights, led all the La­des Palfra [...]es till they came to the Pallace. The Emperour was caried in his Chayre by foure Knights, communing with the Princesse Miragarda all the way, desiring her to fauour his Nephew Florendos, and to thinke of him, as one that had well deserued at her hands.

CHAP. XLIX.
Of the Conference which the Emperour had with the Prin­ces. And how the Marriages that he appointed, were now accomplished in effect.

WHen the Princes, that were thus arriued Constantinople, had rested themselues for certaine dayes, the Emperour desirous to content euery one before he died, who had bestowed their seruice in honouring him, reuealed his intent to the Emperor Vernar king Edward, Arnedes. Recinde and Pri­maleon, how he would gladly sée his Nephewes married, and the other Princes that had béene nourished in his court, whom he would see all matched according as their affections serued them. The Princes liked maruaellously the Emperours intent whereupon, he caused the Sunday following a great feast to be ordained in the Quéene Fleridaes Chamber, which place was the most conuenient in all the Pallace for their courtly disports and there the Ladies were euery one regarded in their degrées, being more pleasant in the Ladyes of their sauoured seruants, then all the costly iunckets prouided for the banquet.

Palmerin was so earnest in affection towards his Lady, as he iudged her to surpasse all the other in beautie. Florendos held the same opinion to the faire Miragarda, and Florian made such estimation of the Princesse of Thrace, as he feared not to Combate against any whatsoeuer, that her beautie might carrie the credite aboue all the rest: and the Prince Pla­tir was not behinde him in conceite, towards his swéete Ladie Sidelia, daughter to the King Tarnaes. The Empresse Bazilia, [Page] Gridonia, Fl [...]rida, & Francellina, because of their high estates, were chéefe next the Empresse [...] the Quéene Flerida bare the price of beautie amongst them all, because she was in the most swéete and delicate time of her yeares. After the Tables were wishdra [...]e, and all the [...] departed the place, the Emperour (being weake and sickely) [...] King Edward to expresse before all the company, what he had giuen him in charge. King Edward willing to obey the Em­perors commandement, arose from the Table, the [...] taking off his Hat, and kissing the Emperours hand, he saluted all there present, and began thus.

Most gratious Empres, as each of vs for his benefit & honor hath receiued such Ladies in marriage, as the Emperour from his owne Court hath pleased to bestow on vs, some that are allied to his Excellency, and others to the Princes and lords of his Empire, wherby the renowme of Christendom is worthy­ly maintained, and all causes expressing good nature continued in their florishing estate. It may therefore séeme good to you at this present, that I publickely open his gracious and Princely determination, whereby may be knowne, if your Highnesse with these Quéenes and Princesses in your company, shall thinke well of that, which by the aduice of his honourable coun­cell he seeketh to put in practise. It is so, that his Maiesty hath set it downe for a decree, that these young Princes and knights shal ioyne in mariage (in [...]ecompence of all their noble trauels) with those to whom they are most affectionate. And as for thē that are as yet vnprouided of Ladies, his Maiesty will allow them continuance in his Court: whereby no [...] shall grew on any side, but euery one shall be contented to their owne de­sires. Here pausing a while, he attended what the Empresse with the other Quéenes and Ladyes would say, as also [...]o be­thinke himselfe on the names of the persons, whom the Empe­rour had appointed to many: but the young Princes and knights were somewhat abashed, doubting whether they might giue credite to the kings words, for their was not any of them, but iudged his labors sufficiently rewarded, if he might enioy his sweet Saint and Mistresse.

[Page] The Ladies that were in presence, began to blush & change their amiable countenance, whereby they bewrayed the secret sudden ioy of their hearts, which they receiued by the spéeches King Edward had vttered. Polinarda very often cast her eyes on the Prince Palmerin, being in as great feare as the offen­der that awaiteth the sentēce of the Iudge, for she doubted least her Grandfather would bestow on her some other, and not let her enioy him whom her heart desired. And Palmerin was af­flicted in the same manner, such and so great was the vehemen­cy of his sundry passions, which betwéene hope & feare he was constrained to suffer: but while his thoughts were in this infi­nite deale of trouble; his Father King Edward following his former intent, began againe in this manner.

You shall vnderstand. Sir Florendos, that my gratious Lord the Emperour (with the consent of the King Re­cinde) enioyneth you to espowse the Princesse Miragarda, who (in my iudgement) will not bée any thing offended to bee so matched: and so shall you Syr Florendos thinke your selfe fully satisfied, for all the trauailes you haue endured for her sake.

All the prince there present looked on Florendos, when they might well perceiue, that the words of king Edward had giuen him more ioy, then if the richest Realme in the world were in his own possession: but the princesse Miragarda kept her coun­tenance so demurely, as one could hardly iudge, whether the loue of Florendos were acceptable to him or no.

And for thée my sonne Palmerin, (said king Edward the em­perour & the prince Primaleon, being very willing thou shoul­dest knowe the loue they beare thee, doe giue thée to wife the Princesse Polinarda, not doubting but thou shalt imagine all thy passed trauailes, to be fully recompenced in so sweet a re­ward. The Princesse Polinarda no sooner heard these wordes, but the delicate Rosiall colour that dyed her daintie counte­nance, witnessed the loue and good will she bare to the Prince Palmerin of England, who likewise now abandoned all his former feare, seeing he should enioy the felicitie hee had so long wished for.

[Page] Which when his Father King Edward perceiued, he made as though he did not espie, and procéeded on with his former determination, giuing the Prince Gracian (Sonne to the king of France) to vnderstand, that the Emperour did bestowe on him his Niece Claricias, the Daughter to the King Polendos. And you Syr Berolde, for your vertuous behauiour, must en­ioy the Iewel of your heart, the faire Onistalda, Daughter to the Duke Drapos of Normandie, and Niece to the renowned King Frisoll, whereof your Father (I am sure) will be very well contented. And you sir Francian, shall match with Berna­da, Daughter to the valiant. Prince Belcar. And you noble Prince Platir, in that your déedes are worthy of perpetuall memorie, you shall possesse the faire Sidelia, Daughter to the King Tarnaes of Lacedemoni [...], who will willingly bestowe her vpon you for that your noble behauiour hath well deserued her. And you Don Rosuel, the true inheriter of the Prince Belcar your Father, shall be honoured with Dramaciana, Daughter to the Duke Tirendos, and for that you haue serued her faithfully so long, you shall enioy her at last as the desert of your labours. And for Bellizant your Brother, his Prize is the Lady Denisa, Daughter to the Duke of Sparta: who is now content to requite him with her loue, because he hath en­dured so many sharpe showers vnder her name. Dramian shall haue for his guardon, the Princesse Clariana, Daughter to Di [...]ea the Princesse of Hungaria: and you Frisoll, because it is your right to succéede the Duke your Father, shall be ioyned in marriage with Leonarda, Daughter to the Duke of Pera. And for this cause (noble Gentlemen) did the Emperour and his Councell call you into this place, to the end you might perceiue the good zeale and loue he beareth to you all. But let me not forget what his Maiestie hath ordained, as concerning you noble Sir Dramusiande, it is his will that you shall espouse Madame Arlencea, as well to content the desire of her loue, as also to shewe himselfe thankefull, for her bewraying the trea­son of Alfernao: and his excellency hath concluded to bestowe the Profound Isle on you, which sometime belonged to her [...]a­ther Brauorant, and is now in the custody of my sonne Florian [Page] your friend. Darmusiande was supprised with such excéeding ioy at these words, as he had not the power to attend till king Edward had finished his discourse, but came and humbled him selfe before the Emperor, yéelding him a thousand thankes for his gracious courtesie king Edward tooke him vp in his armes, desiring him to haue patience a little while, till he had ended his charge, and comming to the Princesse of Thrace he entred into these spéeches. To you most excellent Princesse, whom nature hath plentifully endued with beautie and courtesie, the Emperour, wich these Kings and noble Lords in his company, doe earnestly desire to giue in marriage my son Florian, if so be his déedes might deserue so well your good liking: it is likewise wished by my sonne Palmerin, to whom you are tied in some point of obedience, according as king Sardamant your Grand­father appointed it in his will. Palmerin who all this while had kept himselfe silent) humbly desired the king his father to vouchsafe him a word or twaine: which being granted him, he came before the princesse of Thrace and setting on of his knees to the ground, he began to her as followeth.

I durst not (Madam) take the hardnes on me, to present you my Brother Florian the first time you saw him, fearing least you would thinke, that I was inclined more to regard his pr [...] ­fit, then your honour: but I was the more willing to driue it off till this present, that you might haue some knowledge of his knightly déedes, wherein if I perceiued you to take any delight, I might be the bolder in presenting him for your husband, and you the easier to entertaine him. Let it then I pray you seeme acceptable in your iudgement, what the Emperor & his coun­sell hath determined on, in that I am perswaded the heauenly powers doe thinke well it should be so. Syr Palmerin (aun­swered the Princesse) I am shée, who alwayes couet the meanes, whereby I might shew my selfe dutifull vnto you, and if I should séeme to vse my selfe otherwise, I were vn­worthy to receiue the royall preferment, which the King my Grandfather hath appointed me: beside, my subiects might well examine on me, if I should goe contrary to his will who hath the houre ouer me: therefore resolue your sel [...]e, that I [Page] shall be content to graunt to any thing, which you imagine for the fulfilling of your promise, and mine honour. Palmerin kis­sing her hand, arose immediately, being not a little glad of the courteous answere the princesse of Thrace had made him then King Edward turned to the Knights, and beganne againe in this manner. You shall vnderstand noble Gentlemen, that it is the Emperors will you should reueale to him, how you ac­cept of his opinion, and the Princesses and Ladies shal bewray their intents to the Empresse, because his excellency would not enterprise any thing, but he will haue all parties well conten­ted therewith. These marriages were so well thought on by e­uery one present, as the Knights and Ladies told the Emperor they were all contented, especially the Knights, who aduanced themselues one after another to kisse the Emperours hand: the like they did to the Emperor Vernar, Bazilia, Gridonia, and the Kings and Quéenes there present, and the Emperour em­braced them euery one, but when Palmerin came to him, he h [...]ld him in his armes, and spake thus.

My sonne, I haue continually imagined with my selfe, how I might worthily recompence your déedes of so high estimati­on: but now I perswade my selfe, that both my desire and yours shall be sufficiently contented, in giuing you the Iewell of my blisse, and the honour of my trauailes, my Niece the Princesse Polinarda, whose name I pray the heauens to imprint so deepe in your heart, as the Empresse both hath beene, and is [...], to the end that you and I bearing one name, may be alike in happinesse and good fortune. I neuer thought my gracious Lord (answered Palmerin) that my deedes should purchase such a high and happy felicitie, as this which your Maiestie hath [...] on me: but I see it is your goodnesse, and not my defects, for which I am bound in duty during life. Primaleon and Gridonia imbraced him very louingly, being glad their Daughter was bestowed so honourably.

After these ioyfull motions, both on the one side & the other, were somewhat pacified, the Emperor returned to counsell a­gaine, with the Emperor Vernar, King Edward, Primaleon, and the other Kings, letting them vnderstand, that he did not [Page] intend to forget the Ladie Pandritia: whereupon the Soldane Bellagris was called, to whome King Edward bewrayed all matters passed, how Bellagris vnder his name entred Pandri­ciaes. Chamber, and begot of her Syr Blandidon, whom euery one thought, and shée her selfe, to be King Edwards Sonne, as you may reade in the first Volume of this History.

The Soldane Bellagris knowing thy great error of his faith, and being assured withall, that Blandidon was his sonne, re­moued his Turkish opiuion, wherein he had liued so long time: and to remaine in the friendship of these worthy Princes, hée concluded to espouse Pandritia, to the great contentment of many Princes his friends, who likewise (by his conuersion) came to know the lawe of the liuing God. Of this good hap, the Emperor and all the other Christian Princes were very glad, and to continue Bellagris in this good mind, the Emperor presently arose from counsell, & went into the princesse cham­ber accompanied with King Edward, where his Maiestie de­clared to Pandritia, what had passed betwéene them and the Solean Bellagris, causing her to forget her former opiniō, that Blandidon was the sonne of King Edward, and certifying her likewise, how the Soldan had receiued his Heathenish faith, to make her amends by marriage, which she ought not to re­fuse, as well considering the valour and riches of the Soldane, who was a mighty and renowmed Prince, as also that her son might know his noble father. Pandritia heauily looking a­bout her, was so sore troubled, as it was a great while ere she spake a word: but after she had better remembred her selfe, shee earnestly beheld king Edward, speaking to him in this maner. My hard destiny (worthy Prince) hath concealed this so long, which you at last haue vouchsafed to bewray, that my life may be heereafter more pleasant then it hath beene: and this you may assure your selfe, that if I had knowne of this before, I had giuen due chastisement to my ignorant misfortune. But since it is come to light at this time, both the loue of my sonne, the saluation of the Soldane and his Subiects, compelleth me to forget all matters past, considered also, that the force of loue made him deceiue in this manner.

[Page] The Emperour liked well of that she had said, and the Em­presse embraced hee many times, being so glad as could be pos­sible, that all things came to such a happy end. Blandidon was then called into presence, who was very sorry when he knew king Edward was not his father: but the hope to be preferred by the Soldanes dignitie, made him to forget all former occa­sions, and take content in that present before him.

[...] L.
How the Soldan Bellagris was baptized: and how after­ward the Emperor caused him to be married to Pandritia, and how the other Princes of his court were married also.

AFter that these marriages were thus agréed vpon, the Emperour commaunded the day following, that all things for the solem­nizing these honourable rites, sho [...]ld be prepared in the most decent maner, because he would haue them all married in the great Hall of his Pallace, & there the Archbishop of Constantinople sayd diuine seruice, after­ward he made a learned Sermon, to giue the Soldane Bella­gris earnest affection to the law of Iesus Christ, publishing likewise openly, what had passed betwéene him and the Ladie Pandritia, because no suspition should arise by them, who were apt enough to conceine an euill opinion. When the Archbi­shop had concluded his sermon, be baptized the Soldane. The Emperor and king Edward of England were his Godfathers, and the two Empresses his Godmothers. And to honour him the more, the Emperour would haue him first married: so the Soldane Bellagris, and Pandritia being thus knit together in [Page] Matrimonie, Blandidon humbled himselfe before them in signe of obedience, but the Soldane embracing him, tooke him vp, reioycing greatly that he had so good a knight to his sonne, and that hée should leaue to his subiects such a worthy Go­uernour. After that Pandritia was thus espoused to the Sol­dane, the Empresse and her Ladies walked with her, because the Emperour would haue Florendos and Miragarda mat­ched next: which being done, his heart abandoned all woon­ted care, and taking her by the hand, gaue place to other, the Quéenes of England and Spaine, walking with them along the Hall, to comfort these new married folkes with their good counsell. Next entred the Prince Polinarda, led betwéene the Empresse of Allemaigne and the Quéene of Fraunce, Pal­merin going before her accompanied with the Emperour Vernar, and the King Tarnes of Lacedemonia: and next them came the faire Princesse of Thrace, betwéene the Queene Francelina of Thessalie, and the Quéene Flerida of England, they being glad to sée her matched with the Prince Florian of the Forrest. After these two noble English Princes had wed­ded their swéete friends, the Princes Gracian, Berold, Platir, and all the other Prince and Knights, were espoused vnto their Ladies.

Then the new Quéen of Thrace and the Princesse Polinar­da entred, leading Arlencea betweene them, whose beautie shewed very stately, being set foorth by the presence of these two Princesses: the Prince Primaleon and King Edward ac­companied the Giant Dramusiande, who was married to Arlencea with great royaltie. When they were departed the place, the Princesse Miragarda humbly intreated the Empe­rour, that he would giue Cordigea, daughter to the Giant Ga­tarin (she remaining in her seruice) in marriage to the Giant Almaroll: whereto his maister presently agreed, after he had vnderstood the good will of Cordigea, so he gaue her himselfe (to honour the Princesse Miragarda the more,) to the Giant Almaroll. Of this Cordigea, you may reade more at large, in the second Booke of the notable History of Don Edward of Brittaine.

[Page] The Giant Almaroll was Lord of another Fortresse, not farre from thence where he had kept the Princesse Miragarda, this Fortresse being called Beauties Bulwarke: whereof hee made a present to his espoused Lady Cordigea, on condition she should call the Castle after her owne name, but returne we againe to our Historie.

As soone as the Archbishop had ended all these Ceremonies of these marriages, the Emperor went into the Queene Fleri­des Chamber, where the dinner was prouided to honor these princes withall, and with the Ladies came in Florenda and Graciana, the daughters of the king Arnede [...]: but Germaine of Orleaunce, being the affectionate seruant of Florenda, thought himselfe vnworthy to come in presence, because hee was coun­ted but a subiect to the king of France, yet did the Emperour make such commendation of the knightly déedes of Germaine of Orleaunce, as the King graunted him to marry with his Daughter Florenda, albeit his Daughter Graciana found her selfe discontented, that she could not get a husband, to ioy with them for company. The feast was serued with most magni­ficall honor, and the new married Prince made such high ac­count off, as it was thought a heauenly life to be a married man: for Florendos, Palmerin, Florian, Platir, and the other princes, were respected in the fauour of the Emperors and the Kings exceedingly, in like manner was Miragarda, Leonarda, Polinarda, Sidelia, and all other Princesses, honoured by the Empresses and the Quéenes, most stately to beholde. Often­times they would recreate themselues thorough the City, to the no small delight and content of the Emperour: who mar­king all his frien [...]s, and seeing the Prince Floraman absent from their company, hée demanded what was become of him? Some made answere, that hee was a little from the Palace, sitting mourning vnder a Tree.

Which when Florendos vnderstood, hee left the company and went to him, and perswaded him to come and reioyce with them, Floraman returned him this answere. Why doe you trauell your selfe so, Sir Florendos, to haue him be part­ners of the pleasures you enioy, who hath for euer lost his com­fort? [Page] The great good will I vnfainedly beare you, doth not de­serue you should so deale with me, in that my sorrowes would be ten times more, if I should doe as you would haue mee: therefore I desire you let me beare my griefe quietly, séeing I am hee whom Fortune delighteth to torment continually. Florendos deuised all meanes possible, to change him from this conceite, but séeing his labour was bestowed in vaine, he returned to the Emperor, certifying him of the griefe wherein he had left the prince Floraman, at which newes both the Em­perour and his friendes were heauily passioned, and they con­tinued in commending the Prince Floraman, till the Gentl­man Vsher called to supper. When the supper was ended, and the Tables withdrawne, these new merried Princes began to dance after the Greekish manner: and when all the maskes and pastimes were done for that night, each one went to his Chamber, to receiue content with them, who had caused them to endure so long trouble.

CHAP. LI.
How the Queene of Thrace was conueied away by a strange aduenture, while the Knights continued the pleasure at Constantinople.

EAch of these Princes delighting himselfe with his sweete Lady, for whose sake hee had endured many sharpe trauailes, at length determined (and so did diners o­thers, though they had not attained the [...]ame felicitie, yet to witnesse their good will and affection to their friends) to ordaine a generall Tournament, whereto came many strange Knights, [Page] who laboured as much as in them lay, to shew their hardy va­lour to those Princes that appointed the Triumph. In the meane while this sport continued, there arriued a Knight ar­med all in blacke, bearing Deadly Hope, figured in his sheeld, his coate Armour blacke, and his horse and Lance of the same colour: by which sad habite euery one coniectured, the small ioy this knight had of himselfe, neuerthelesse, such was his great fortune, as for three dayes together, he remained victor a­gainst all that dealt with him. At length, because he would not discouer his name to the Iudges of the field. Florian and Flo­rendos went to arme themselues, being very desirous to try the Combate with this Knight. But Dramusiande perswaded them to the contrary, giuing them to vnderstand that it was the Prince Floraman, whom king Edward & his son Palmerin brought at last to the Emperor, when his excellencie began to comfort him, saying, that it was against reason he should afflict himselfe in such sort, especially, for the thing he could not re­medy. Moreouer, by leading his life so pensiuely, he should in the end not onely shorten his owne time, but also offend the iudgements of his especiall friendes, who would euerie one be glad and faine to disswade him from the greese that did tor­ment: him to which words the Prince Floraman thus replied.

I know well my gracious Lord, that the honour it pleaseth you to vse me with all, can neuer be recompenced by my deeds, much lesse can any satisfaction be made in words: but this I beseech your Maiesty consider, that the faithfull loue I haue alwayes borne to my Lady Altea hath such soueraigne pow­er ouer me, as it will not suffer me to change this humor. And albeit I know she is dead, to my no small greefe and continu­all vexation: yet either shall my teares reuiue her againe, or bring my ghost to keepe her company. Thus am I resolued to remember my losse: in that my true loue ought to remaine to the end and in the end, otherwise it is to be iudged, but light and vnconstant: therefore I beseech your Maiestie to suffer me in my complaints, for I am so well inured with them now, as it is impossible for me to liue any otherwise.

[Page] The Emperour and the Princes saw they trauailed in vaine, in perswading Floraman to forsake his sorrowfull kinde of life, who taking his leaue of the Emperour, accompa­nyed with king Edward, and the Prince Primaleon went to his Chamber, but they bring not able to endure the sight of such heauinesse, returned presently to the Chamber of pre­sence.

And after these Iousts and triumphs were ended, these Princes would ride abroade with their Ladyes into a For­rest néere the Cittie, where they might chase the wilde Bore the Hart, and other beastes for their recreation: whereof the Emperour was very glad, and taking his Coatch, he tooke his way to the Forrest in their company, where against their com­ming were set vp very faire Tents, and the Tables being co­uered, and all things ready for dinner, they sate downe to take their repast before they went to their sport.

Dinner being done, the Hunters came and certified the Emperour, how they had found the mightiest wilde Bore that euer was séene, vppon which newes the Princes immediately arose from the Table, and mounting on their horses, they rode with the Hunters to finde the gaine: and beginning to fol­low the Chase of the Bore, euery one liked of the pleasantnesse of the pastime, but this suddaine delight was mingled with a suddaine mischance, as you may reade in the discourse follow­ing.

The Prince and Knights earnestly pursuing the [...] the Heauens began on a suddaine to be troubled▪ and is of darknesse came vpon them, as they could not discerne o [...] other, so that their horses fumed and fretted excéedingly, ve­ing afraide by the thundring and lightning in the Ayre, as their Maisters were glad to forsake them and walke on foote.

Beside, in the Emperours Tent was such a maruellous bruite and noyse, as Heauen and earth would haue gone to­gether: but that which did most of all abash them in the Tent, was the wailing and pittifull voyce of a woman, who was heard to crie very gréeuously, calling for ayde to the [Page] Knight of the Sauage man. At length it was knowne to be the Queene of Thracc, who could not be succoured by any of the knights present with the Emperour, because the darkenes was such as none could sée her.

It was not long before this darke cloude amounted to the Skies againe, making such a noyse at the departure, as Flori­an riding vp and downe maruailing hereat, was at length ad­uertised of the losse of the Quéene: wherevpon he tooke his way to the Emperours Tent, finding his Maiestie there in great feare and heauinesse, yet would he not giue it ouer so, but rode presently into the Citie, and hauing armed himselfe, he conclu­ded to search thorow all Countries, and not to rest in any place whatsoeuer, vntil he might heare some tydings of her, for whose losse his heart was extreamely passioned.

Many of his friends presented themselues to beare him com­pany in trauaile, but the Emperour would not agrée thereto, fearing least the Turkes would visite Constantinople, before they returned againe.

The Knight of the Sauage man in as great griefe as could be imagined, set forward in his iourney, and stayed not till hée was hindered by the darke night, which hée was glad to passe at the roote of a Trée in a Forrest: but in the morning hée mounted on Horsebacke, and many dayes hee wandered vp and downe in strange Countreys, yet not hearing newes of her whom he would gladly méete withall, at which froward chaunce hée was maruellously abashed, so that he intended to [...] shipping, to try if Fortune would that wayes spéede him [...] better.

After hee had embarbued himselfe, putting himselfe euen vnto the mercy of the Seas, and so trauailing to any place where the Marriners could wish him for his best auayle, one day aboue all other, hée was assayled with an excee­ding tempest, the waues tossing the vessell in such sort, as sometime one would haue iudged it had touched the firma­ment, and afterwards would fall downe as it were to Hell: in which trouble, both the Pilot and Marriners were so dis­straughted of memory, as they could not deuise in what [Page] partes, they should be, but euen run which way Fortune plea­sed, for the space of three dayes, at the end whereof, they came to a mighty huge mountaine, the top thereof seeming to touch the clouds.

The Knight of the Sauage man desirous to know what Countrey this was, caused the Marriners to set him on shore, and for that the Mountaine was not to be trauelled on Horse back, he went vp on foot, comming at last to the other side of the Mountaine, where he entred a goodly fayre Field, which was inclosed round about with huge Rocks, like to that he passed at the entrance.

In the middest of this field was a strong and admirable Ca­stle, both for the beauty as also the height, beeing founded of the same Rockes as were about it, at the gate of this Castle was hanged a Garland of Tryumphe, wherein letters of Golde was written thus. This is the Pallace of the Queene Melia.

The Knight of the Sauage man seeing the gate open, tooke the boldnes on him to enter in: but when he beheld the mer­uailous height of the Halls and Chambers, in this Castle be­longing to the Queene Melia, he iudged it to be the most state­ly Mansion that euer he came in.

For I assure you, the Towers, Galleries, and other buil­dings were so ingenuously carued out of the same Rocke, as one would haue thought the whole Castle to haue consisted of one péece, whereupon the knight of the Sauage man was much abashed, that this Fortresse was vnknowne to the Knights of the Emperours Court of Greece.

At length he thought good to visit this Castle further, be­cause hée saw at the foure corners thereof foure gates, and the entrance into them was not forbidden him by any: but he espied an other Gate, which was made fast with two great stroug Chaines of Iron, vppon the Gate béeing engraued many auncient Histories, which were vnknowen to the knight of the Sauage man, and long hée stayed not to beholde this Gate, for that he perceiued he trauelled iu vain, if he should offer to enter in therat. Theu passed he through one of the other [Page] Gates, and came into a goodly great Hall, in the middest wher­of was chased in Gold the picture of an ancient woman, who had deuised and caused that Castle to be builded: this Monu­ment was garnished on either side with goodly marble pillars, and when he had behold this sufficiently, he passed to viewe the rest of the Castle.

But turning him about to goe forward, hée espied hard by him a mightie Serpent of Brasse, fashioned and made so arti­ficially, as it was a thing most strange to behold, in that it was of such a monstrous highnesse, as it reached to the very rafters that held vp the couerture of the Hall.

This Serpent held his necke stretched out along, with his countenaunce so vigorous and fearefull, as (being made by very singular workemanship and cunning) it was able to af­fright them that did behold it. But the Knight of the Sa­uage man (whose heart no terrour or fearefull motion could dismay) approached to this Serpent, and hauing viewed very circumspectly, espied a key tied about his necke with a Chaine of Gold, the Chaine being wound about his necke in a great many foldes, wherevpon he presently imagined, that in this key consisted the principall aduenture of this Castle, which when he had visited in many places, he returned againe to the brazen Serpent, to marke if this key would serue to further him in his intent.

And as he came to take off the Chaine with the key, he per­ceiued in the Serpents necke a little chinke or creuise, at which sight he began somewhat to comfort himselfe, so that he tooke the key, and hauing the meanes to vse it at his owne pleasure, he opened therewith a little window, which was made in the Serpents necke, and looking in, he might discerne the hollow­nesse of the Serpent round about.

Then did he behold foure Tapers of waxe, which stood on foure Candlestickes of Siluer, two of them placed towards the East, and the other two to the West, and burning with a maruellous spendant brightnesse, yet the waxe séemed not to diminish any thing at all. Betwéene these foure lights was couched on a pallad, the faire Leonarda Quéene of Thrace, and [Page] his wife, and ouer her head hung a fayre Cannapy of gréene Veluet: at this sight the Knight of the Sauage man was so a­bashed, as he doubted whether he might giue credit to this mo­tion before his eyes or no.

But when he had taken good view of her apparell, knowing it to be the very same she had on when she was carried forth of the Forrest, he perswaded himselfe that it was she, wherevpon he called aloud to her, desiring her to vse more regard vnto him: but he was neuer a iote the néerer his purpose, for she was en­chaunted into such a sound sléepe, as she had not the power to vnderstand him, which when the knight of the Sauage man per­ceiued, and being earnest in the good will he bare her, he spake to her after this manner.

Madame, what glory or contentment can my victories yéeld me, or the manifold perillous aduentures which I haue hap­pily finished, if you séeme now to forsake me in this present ad­uersitie, whereon both my honour and life dependeth.

Let this (good Madame) enter your courteous minde, how since your straunge departure from the Emperour of Greece. I haue not failed to visite many Prouinces to finde you out, and euen at the very time when I was out of all hope to finde you, I chanced to the place where I may behold you, but yet to my no small griefe, in that I cannot come to you, neither wil you vouchsafe to heare me, in this extreame affliction of my poore heart.

Here pausing a while, he began to waxe maruellous angry, when, setting his ha [...]d to his Swoord, and snatching it furi­ously foorth of the sheath, he layde many violent strokes on the Serpent, thinking to destroy it in pieces that he might come to his Lady: but hee was fa [...]re deceiued in his intent, for the Serpent was conuerted into a flame of fire, and passed so sud­denly away, as the Knight of the Sauage man lost the sight of it cleane.

Then fearing least his Lady should abide any cruell torment, because the Serpent was so changed away into fier, he sate downe on the ground in great heauinesse, curssing his ill for­tune very bitterly, and intending neuer to depart from this [Page] Castle, without he might haue the company of his lady again. But while he was in this perplexitie, his Brother and friend the Sage Aliart, (who would not forsake him in so great neces­sitie) entred the Hall, attired after the English manner, not hauing any Armour on him, for that he had not the leysure to arme himselfe, so greatly he pittied the misfortune of his brother Florian of the Forrest: the Sage Aliart was no sooner come vnto him, but he saluted him with these speeches.

I perceiue (Sir Knight) you haue altogether forgotten me, and especially in the place where you haue most néede of my helpe.

At these words the Knight of the Sauage man presently a­rose, and embracing the Sage Aliart in his armes, he returned him this answer. My Lord and Brother, I am sure it is not vnknown vnto you, that one occasion of gréefe thorowly setled in the minde, causeth the party so vexed to commit all things else to forgetfulnesse: therefore me thinks you should not be offended, though you were not in my remembrance, I being in such a sharpe extremity, from which I desire to be deliuered by your ayde.

Woorthy sir (answered Aliart) he whose knowledge serued him to bring the Quéene Leonarda in this place, hath done it by such a maruellous means, as it is impossible to recouer her hence so spéedily: but Fortune reseruing you to employ your valour, in aduentures worthy most high renowne, will not suffer his intent that brought her hither, to be fully executed, but hath ordained it in such sort, as by my Arte I shall end this cruell Enchantment: neuerthelesse, it shall be necessary, that you kéep me company, because your courage and strength may much helpe in this case.

When hée had thus said, hée commaunded the knight of the Sauage man, to shut the window, and hang the key in the place whence hee tooke it, but first hée looked in to see the estate of the Quéene Leonarda: a [...]d Florian, hee labou­red very bustly to extinguish the light of the Tapers, be­cause hée coulde not suffer that their extreame shyninge [Page] brightnes, should dazell his eyes when he looked on his swéete Quéene and wife, so that the light was some hinderance to him when he thought to guard her excellent beautie: wherevpon A­liart spake thus vnto him.

I perceiue well (my Lord) that you are ignorant of the ver­ture of these Tapers, whose light onely maintaineth the life of your Quéene Leonarda: for looke how soone they shall be extin­guished or consumed, euen so soone shall her life be fully com­pleate and ended.

After this communication, these two Knights went foorth of the Castle, and so soone as they were come into the open Field, the Ayre began to be excéeding troubled, so that for a time a maruellous darkenesse ouer-shadowed them: yet at last it cleared againe, when the Knight of the Sauage-man was greatly abashed, séeing himselfe depriued of the Sage Aliart, and no company with him but a huge and monsterous Bull, who séemed as hee had come to the top of the Rockes, vppon this Bulles necke the Knight of the Sauage man cast him­selfe, and he brought him immediately into a darke and obscure Caue, where the Bull left him and vanished away. All these fearefull motions could not dismay this hardy knight, for he did imagine them to be but only illusions, sent of purpose to hinder him in his determination, therefore he would make no further account of them: but looking about this Caue (the light some­what increasing) he beheld the figures and pictures of the most renowned knights that carried arms in the time of the famous King Amadis.

There hee might discerne Esplandian among the Moores, a spectacle that delighted him very much, and in the most honon­rable place of all, stood Armato the noble King of the Persians, hauing letters of Golde on his left shoulder, which declared his name and famous progenie. While the Knight of the Sa­uage man, earnestly beheld these gallant Images, he perc,yued to enter the caue a very aged woman, so weake and feeble with extremity of age, as she seemed ready to fal to the earth, but whē shée looked on the Knight of the Sauage man, she started backe in a great amazement, and crying out aloude, very pittifully de­maunded [Page] aide and succour of the grauen pictures, that they would helpe her to conquer the Knight, that was come to vio­late and deface her Pallace.

At the cry of the olde Encauntresse, the Images began to stirre themselues, and lay holde on theyr Swoordes and Speares: but when the Knight of the Sauage man made of­fer to defend himselfe, they stood silent in their former estate, and the old woman vanished out of sight. Wherevppon the Knight of the Sauage man departed thence, comming to the Hall where the Serpent was, and there he beheld the same old woman standing by the windowe, where he looked in and be­held the Quéene of Thrace his wife, which made him presently to coniecture, how in that place was inclosed the remedy of his trauailes, whereto he would very gladly attaine, but it grieued him to shewe his force against a woman, who thrust with her shoulders so strongly against the window, as at length it ope­ned and she went in: then turning to close the window againe, it was made fast againe so ingeniously, as one could not iudge by which way she made her entrance.

The Knight of the Sauage man could not chuse but laugh, to see with what a grace this olde woman maintained her en­chauntment, and comming to the windowe where hée iudged the entered, he knockt and kept such a bounsing thereat, as the olde woman came and opened the windowe presenting her selfe before him, accompanied with foure Knights, who were clad in Armour very costly and sumptuous and to them she de­clared, how the knight of the Desart sought to destroy her an­cient Pallace.

These foure Knights lifted vp their Maces: but when the Knight of the Sauage man seemed to defend himselfe, both they and the olde woman vanished away incontinent. At these straunge motions hée could not chuse but wonder, and sitting downe to viewe the brauery of the house, hee perceiued in the middest of the Hall a Candlesticke of Golde set on a Brasen pillar of very costly workemanship, and in the Candlesticke burned a goodly white waxe Taper, whose light shewed after such a straunge manner, as many wonderfull occasions was [Page] presented before his eyes, wherevpon he imagined, how that Castle had not béene founded, but onely to some maruellous and especiall cause. When he had more narrowly and circum­spectly looked about the place, he beheld a number of Cofers round about him, euery Cofer hauing a key of Gold hanging at it, which made him to open them one after another: where he found the Library of the Queene Melia, and very gorgeous apparell belonging to a woman, which Melia had caused to be made to giue to her Couzin, the daughter of King Armato her brother, as the knight of the Sauage man found it set downe in writing in the Library, which when he gad read, he beganne a­gaine his woonted griefe, seeing himselfe out of hope to recouer the Queene of Thrace his wife, in which affliction the Sage A­liart presented himselfe before him againe, entring into these spéeches. My Lord and brother, since you haue done that which was ordained for you, referre the rest behind to me, for in de­spight of the person that delighteth to torment you thus, I will recouer her whom you loue so dearely. I know very well (an­swered the knight of the Sauage man) that you alone can re­store me my felicity: and if I should thinke otherwise, I were vnworthy to haue your furtheraunce in this my extreame trouble.

CHAP. LII.
How by the aide of the Sage Aliart of the obscure Valley, the noble knight of the Sauage man, deliuered out of the En­chauntment his wife the Queene of Thrace.

BEfore the Sage Aliart would deliuer the Queene of Thrace out of the Enchaunt­ment, he desired to see all the places in the Castle, which when he had viewed, hee made no account of any thing, but onely the Library, and because he was well wor­thy of estimation, hée made conueyance [Page] of all the Bookes (by his Arte) in the Perillous Isle, where he placed them among the Bookes of the Sage Vrganda, of whom somewhat hath beene discoursed to you already, and all this while the Knight of the Sauage man rested himselfe, because his great trauaile him so to doe.

When the Sage Aliart had thus sent the books away, he tooke the Taper which stood in the Candlesticke of Gold, and spake to the Knight of the Sauage man, in this manner. You shall vn­derstand (my Lord) that the life of the Queene Leonarda, consi­steth onely in the vertue of this light, with which it is impossi­ble for vs to saue or redéeme it: but in the despight of Targiana (who is the onely cause of this misfortune) I will so order the matter, as your heart shall ere long receiue his contentment, yet shall not the Sage Enchauntresse (who brought her into this vnhappy estate) haue any power to resist me in my determina­tion. Thus concluding, he went vnto the Serpent, holding in one hand the fatal Candle, and in the other a little booke, which he found lying at the foote of a Marble Columbe: and while the Knight of the Sauage man opened the little doore with the Key, the Sage Aliart reade so earnestly on his Booke, as by the vertue of the wordes written in the Booke, the Tapers of waxe which were in the Belley of the Serpen, begand to letse, their light. But [...]et they did not extinshuish altogether, for if they had béene put all at one instant, the life of the Quéene of Thrace had béene brought in great daunger for they were framed by such an artificiall pollicie, as she swéetely flumbred in life by the vertue of their light, yet was shee depriued of her nat [...]rall sences, but not a iote impeached of her singular beau­tie. So soone as one of these Tapers had lost his light, the Sage Aliart lighted it againe with the Candle in his owne hand, in which consisted a cōtrary meane to helpe their purpose, for whē it had burned to the very place where the safegard of her life was contained, the Quéene of Thrace stretched out her armes, as one awaking out of a sound sléepe, and the Tapers being ex­tinct and lighted againe, she started vp on a suddaine, Meruai­ling to sée her selfe in such a narrow place, and especially in the company of her Husband, the noble Knight of the Sauage man, [Page] who beheld her with the teares trickling downe her chéekes, knowing well, how it was strange to her to be in such a case.

The Sage Aliart séeing the Quéene in such extreame heaui­nesse, he rehearsed to her how all things had happened, assuring her that the Emperors Court was in a generall sadnes by her absence: he also certified her, how the knight of the Sauage man departed the same day from Cōstantinople in her search, wher­at she grieued very much, for she was of the opinion, that what person soeuer happened into that place, should be brought into such danger, as he might not easisy get out of it againe. The knight of the Sauage man, who could not endure to sée his Lady shut vp so long in the serpents belly, desired the Sage Aliart to deliuer her out of that extremitie: vpon which words the Sage Aliart the candle into one of the serpents nostrels, which made him to lespe, and cast fire foorth of his mouth so abundantly, as one would haue thought the Hall would haue shaken in pieces, so great was the noyse the serpent made. The Queene Leonar­da was so amazed with this fearefull motion, as she was brought againe into her former perpletitie, at which sight the Knight of the Sauage man was mooued excéedingly, so that hee came & embraced the Sage Aliart, humbly desiring him to helpe now or neuer. Then Aliart approched to the serpent, and thru­sting his arme in at the litle doore, he quenched the light of the Tapers, which being done, the serpent stood indifferently quiet, but the knight of the Sauage man was not pleased with all this wherefore he began afresh to intreat his brother, that he would pittie the distressed case of his Quéene and wife: It is not to be said how well pleased the Sage Aliart was, seeing his Brother Florian so earnestly affected to the Queene of Thrace, remem­bring the small estimation he was woont to make of women, and now that he was become such a faithfull and reuerent sub­iect to the God of loue. After that he had thorowly recounted all these matters to himselfe, he fell to reading on his looke ahaine so deuoutly, as at length the Quéene of Thrace came foorth of the Serpent, so rauished inwardly in delight when shee be­held her louing lord & husband before her, as she ran and caught him in her armes maruellous ioyfully, thinking thus with [Page] her selfe, that his valour was sufficient to end any aduenture whatsoeuer: and so pleasant was the Knight of the Sauage man, hauing his sweete wife and Quéene in his armes, as he thought himselfe the onely happy man of the World. After they had delighted themselues thus so long as they pleased, the Prince and the Sage Aliart went to shew the singularities of this Castle to the Quéene Leonarda, bringing her where the stately Pillars of Marble were, and likewise the gallant Li­brary of the Queene Melia, where the rich robes and stately apparell were presented to her view, which she desired as her owne immediately, thinking that so she should be fully recom­penced for her passed misfortunes, if so be these sumptuous gar­ments might be bestowed on her, that she might carry them with her to Constantinople.

This earnest motion of hers, prouoked the two Knights to depart this place, the Sage Aliart giuing her to vnderstand; that it was not uecessary her minde should be fulfilled in that re­quest, neyther could she carry any thing thence, albeit we liked it neuer so well, by reason that these rich vestures were reser­ued for one of the Queene Meliaes Daughters, who in beautie should excell all of her time. The knight of the Sauage Man, was somewhat moued with these wordes, fearing hee should not long enioy his Queene and Wife: but the Sage Aliart sée­ing these two Louers restored to their liberty, tooke his leaue of them to trauell to Constantinople, where his presence was long desired and looked for, and he gaue charge to the knight of the Sauage man, that he would come thither with all speede possible, because his friends might be greatly furthered by his company.

But to let you vnderstand by what occasion the Quéene of Thrace was thus enchanted, the History discourseth, how the Princesse Targiana could not forget her anger and heauy dis­pleasure towards the knight of the Sauage man, but dayly thyrsting and desiring for reuengement, entertained as part­ner in her purpose an Enchantresse, whose dwelling was in the Realme of Persia, named Drusia Velonna. Targiana ex­pecting the time when she might open her intent to this En­chauntresse, [Page] Drusia at length consented to fulfill her mind, and one day when the Princesse was bathing her selfe at a Foun­taine, Drusia came suddainly to her thorow the window of an high Tower, and presenting her selfe so straungely before her, the Princesse Targiana was so amazed and frighted thereat, as she called to her seruants to come and helpe her. But Drusia reuealing her selfe, the Princesse was quickly remooued from this feare: whereupon, she rehearsed her earnest desire to be reuenged on the knight of the Sauage man, requesting her fa­uour and furderaunce in the cause. The Enchauntresse be­ing one that loued the Princesse well, and was glad to com­passe any thing that might yeeld her content, spake vnto her in this manner.

Madame, I haue well pondered the matter wherewith you haue made me acquainted, and haue deuised the meanes to re­leaue your ouercharged and troubled thoughtes, and very eas [...]y might we be reuenged on the knight of the Sauage man, if it were not for his brother the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Vally, whose great experience and knowledge may be some hinde­rance to vs: neuerthelesse, I haue found out one practise, wher­by you may bring him into great trouble and daunger. Oh Velon [...]a (quoth Targiana) it is the onely thing I desire, to hin­der or offend him by any way whatsoeuer. You know well Madame (aunswered Drusia Velonna) that he is but slenderlie affected to them, who notwithstanding loue him with most especial good will, yet is he so amorous of the Queene of Thrace his Wife, as it is not possible for any man to be more, where­fore I intend to conuey her into such a secret place, where the Sage Aliart shall haue no power to helpe her, vntill the Empire of Greece be all poyled and brought to confusion, neyther shall the knight of the Sauage man bee able to finde her, but shall spend his time in seeking after her, yet shall his labour be be­stowed to no such ende▪ she would. Targ [...]ana was very well contented with that the Enchauntresse had tolde her, where­vpon she enchaunted the Queene of Thrace, in the manner as I haue declared to you already.

Afterwards she returned to the Princesse Targiana, whom [Page] she likewise conducted by her Arte to the Castle of the Quéene Melia, at what time Albayzar was gone vnto Babylon: and when Targiana had sufficiently pleased her selfe, beholding the rare and strange alteration of the Quéene of Thrace, she desired Drusia, to shut the doore, and to hang the Key at the chaine about the Serpents necke, wherevpon Targiana departed thence to the place of the Great Turke her Father, & afterward tooke her Iourney into Persia, being of the opinion, that the Sage Aliart could not helpe the pittiful estate of the Queene of Thrace. In the Castle of Melia, she remained thus Enchaunted, vntill the Knight of the Sauadge man, and the Sage Aliart met together and deliuered her: But now wee will returne to the Prince Albayzar, who is comming to laye Siege to the Cittie of Con­stantinople, whither the Knight of the Sauadge man trauelled speedily, for that it were against reason, that such a Noble and redoubted Knight, should be absent from the place, where his déerest Friends were assembled together.

CHAP. LIII.
¶Of that which the Christians did in the Citie of Con­stantinople, at what time the Princesse Targiana sent tydings to the Courte of the Emperour Pal­merin, of the comming of his Enemyes.

IT is rehearsed in the Chronicle of the Em­perour Palmerin, how the Kings of Eng­land, Spayne, France, Lacedemonia, and Thessalia, were desirous to depart to theyr seuerall Kingdomes, after the Triumphes & sports for the Mariages of their Friends were somewhat ouerblowne and past.

And euen as they were preparing themselues to their iour­ney, Fortune (who would make them partners of y Emperors [Page] daungers towardes) presented them with such occasions, as they were constrained to breake off theyr former determinati­on, in that the Princesse Targiana sent news at the very same instant to the Emperour, of the huge Nauie which Albayzar had prepared to besiege Constantinople withall.

Moreouer, shee gaue to vnderstand, how the Armie of the Great Turke her Father, was (as then) arriued in the Porte of Armenia, and stayed but onely for the Winde: likewise, that the Turke her Father, had appointed Albayzar chiefe cap­taine Generall of his Armie, because hee surpassed all the other in valour and courage.

The report of this Armie, caused great astonishment in ma­nie, and chiefly to them, who were not able to endure the tra­uell of Armes, and the Emperour Palmerin himselfe was so o­uercharged with yéeres, as that hée could not walke out of his Chamber, yet was hee able to comfort and encourage his dee­rest Friends with good Counsell, wherby their troubled mindes were greatly cased.

Primaleon, who was naturally giuen to be couragious and brauely minded, did not make account of any misfortunes that might happen to him, and the rather because the valiant Prin­ces and Knights in his companie, could not be summoned at a better time, to witnesse theyr Nobilitie. The Kings Court, sent to [...]he Gouernours of their Realmes and Signories, that they should leuey what power they could possible, and come thi­ther to them, with all speede to assist them.

CHAP. LIIII.
¶How the Enemies sent an Embassadour to the Em­perours Court, and of the answer which was made him.

AFter the manner as I haue declared to you already, the Emperour prouided for the en­tertaining of his Enemies, and as his Ma­iestie was aduising himselfe about these Af­fayres, he was aduertised, that an Embas­sadour was arriued at the Porte of the Cit­tie, who demaunded safe conduct, before hée would come on shoare. His Maiesty (with the counsel of the Kings and Princes) was content to graunt his request: Wherevpon the Embassadour tooke Landing, and being accompanyed with foure Knights, hee tooke his way to the Emperours Pallace.

The Kings and Princes determined, that the Embassadour should rehearse the cause of his arriuall to the Prince Primale­on, before they would suffer him to come into the Emperours presence: but diuerse of them were of a contrary opinion, affir­ming that the presence and noble Answere of the Emperour himselfe would more daunte and terrifie the Enemie, then all they were able to doe.

Vpon this determination they were agréede, and the Empe­rour was brought in his Chayre into the great Hall, where the Embassador stayed, who hauing viewed the strength of the Ci­tie, knew well they should bestow good labour before they could conquer it. The Emperour according to his milde and Noble nature, receyued the Embassador from his enemie very grati­ously, and after the Kings and Princes were in theyr due and appointed places, and a generall silence amongst them all, the Embassadour began in these speeches.

[Page] Illustrious and most puissant Emperour, I could wish to sée thée in the Flourishing estate of thy yeares, as well to be a participate of many troubles, imminent to them that dare take vppon them to defende thy Empyre, as also to enlarge the con­tentment of them, who shall be so happie as to gaine the victo­rie in the fielde of Battell, which is now presented to thy Ma­iestie.

I am to let thée vnderstand, that Albayzar the great Sol­dan of Babylon, and Prince of Turkie, accompanyed with o­ther Soldans, Kings, & puissant Princes, hath sent me to thée, to let thée know, that they are determined with theyr strength and power to besiege this Citie, to reuenge the death of manie theyr especiall Friendes, who receyued their dishonour before this Cittie.

Neuerthelesse, the Soldane Albayzar, hauing not forgotten the gracious courtesie thou didst sometimes vse towards Olo­ricque, Alchidiana, and the Princesse Targiana, hath thus con­cluded (fearing to be noted of ingratitude) to make thée this of­fer: eyther to surrender the Cittie of Constantinople, and the knight of the Sauage man, King of Thrace thy Nephew, into his hands, or depart & leaue thine Empyre, subiect to his power, without offering any resistance to his determination.

On this condition hee will not bring his Armie into thine Empyre, and hée thinketh it more necessary for thée, rather to loose one Cittie then the whole Empyre, and better it were for thée to deliuer one man into his hands, then to sée the death of a number thy especiall Friends. To which words the Empe­rour thus answered. My Friend, I can hardly endure to let thée passe any further in spéeches, but I must néedes answer you thus: that I account it well for my profite to follow his coun­sell in this matter, if by the sending him one man, I may make sure account of the safetie of the rest.

But if that one man be found so good a Knight, as his Va­lour is sufficient to redeeme the Captiuitie of all the other, I must not be so forgetfull of my honour, as to render a State of assurance to your Lordes mercie: Besides, it were a thing much against reason and duety, to yeelde that Cittie into the [Page] hands of Heathen Infidells, where the true God is to be wor­shipped in spirit and truth.

And truely I cannot but maruell much, that hée should of­fer to come thus into my Empire, considering what promises hath past betweene him and mée: for I was of the opinion, that I should rather be furthered by his aide and assistance, then hin­dered or impeached thus maliciously. But for all this, my trust is in GOD, that I shall prepare his graue before the Walles of this Cittie, as I haue done alreadie to many of his Prede­cessours, who without regarde of theyr owne Honour, or my courtesie, haue come to assaile me in this manner.

I perceyue then my Lord (answered the Embassa [...]our) that because Fortune hath daily fauoured you to this present, you will not dreade the misfortunes whereinto you may suddenly fall: therefore I intend to returne with this answere to my Lord who sent me.

So taking his leaue, he returned to his Galley where it lay at Anckor, being accompanyed with many Princes and Lords of the Emperours Court: and after they had giuen him a ve­ry friendly Farewell, his Galley set forward with such expediti­on, as in short time it came to the rest of the Armie.

CHAP. LV.
¶How the Armie of the Great Turke arriued in the Port of Constantinople, and of the noble and vali­ant prowesse of the Christians, before they would suffer the Pagans to take Landing.

[Page] THe Embassadour from Albayzar, to the Soldane of Babylon, being thus departed, the Emperour Palmerin called together all the Princes and Nobles in his Courte to giue present order to euery one, that they should with all the best spéede possible, pro­uide themselues in Armes, to forbidde the entraunce of the Enemie, and to haue good regard to the affaires of the Citie, and safety of the same, which was committed to the Guard of the Emperour Vernar, and the King Polendos, accompanyed with a thousand fiue hundreth Knights on Horsebacke, and foure hundreth Footemen. King Edward of England was chosen by Generall consent, chiefe Captaine and Gouernour of the Fielde, hauing vnder his con­duct two thousand Knightes, beside the Giant Dramusiande, who by his Noble behauiour in that expedition, wonne very great estimation.

Maiortes, Pridos, the Duke of Galles, Don Rosiande de la Bronde his Sonne, Argolant the Duke of Horten, Pompi­des, and fifty Knightes, that were come in theyr company: So diuiding theyr Knights into foure parts, they were in number eight thousand, & to euery thousand was a Generall Captain.

Arnedes King of France, had the ordering of fiue hundred, being attended on likewise by his Sonnes, Gracian, Guerin, and Germaine of Orleance, beside fifty good and hardy French Knights. A thousand fiue hundred more were conducted by Recinde King of Spayne, the Princes Berolde and Onstalde his Sonnes awayting on him, with the Giant Almaroll, and one hundreth Spanish Knights. The Soldane Bellagris was Captaine ouer foure hundred Knights, being his owne Sub­iects, and for the guard of his owne person, he had prouided one hundred of the chiefest knights of his Court, among whom was his Sonne Blandidon, whose noble behauiour deserued com­mendations. To Belcar Duke of Pontus and Durace, was committed the like charge, as to the Kings Recinde and Arne­des, hauing for the Guarde of his owne person, Don Rosuell, and Bellizart his Sonnes.

[Page] To the King Tarnaes of Lacedemonia, (who was an An­cient and noble Prince) was giuen the Guard of the Pallace, and for the more security of the Empresse, & the other Queenes and Ladyes, hée had attending on him two hundred Knightes. Primaleon was chosen Lord Generall for the Cittie, hauing in his charge seauen hundred Knightes, wherewith he had regarde as well to the Field as to the Cittie.

Palmerin, Florendos, Platir, and diuers other Knights, had the charge of the vtter wings of the Armie, as lost children▪ to giue succour where they perceyued most necessitie. Thus was the Emperours Court well stored with noble and renowmed Knights, yet his Maiestie and King Edward greatly desired the presence of the Prince Florian of the Forrest, in whose ab­sence both the Horsemen and Footemen, were ordained as I haue alreadie declared.

On the next morning▪ King Edward commaunded to strike vp Allarum, for hee was giuen to vnderstand, that the Enemie was within halfe a league of the Cittie, and that they prepared themselues to take landing, and the Emperour caused himselfe to be carryed vp into a high Tower of his Pallace, because hée would sée how Fortune disposed of his happinesse.

King Edward was no sooner arriued where the Enemie was, but he placed his Armie on the Sea-shoare, to hinder the Ene­mie from comming on Land: but therein he was deceyued, for the multitude of the Galleys and Ships were such, as it was impossible for him to doe as he would.

Albayzar, who was accompanied with the most renowmed knights of his Armie, and two the most ougly and fearefull Gi­ants that euer were seene, made offer to take Landing first of all: but they of the Emperors Court stepped before them▪ and entertayned them in such sorte, as diuers both of Turkes and Christians were very dangerously wounded.

Albayzar was so offended, because he could not haue libertie to get foorth of his Galley, as hee commaunded the Gyants to step into the Water, to whose commaundement they pre [...]ently obeyed, and with theyr Ma [...]es of Iron they began so to breake thorowe the pre [...]sse, and they which before hindred Albayzar [Page] from comming on shoare, began to giue place, as it were for his landing. Which when Dramusiande perceiued, hee stept into the water vp to the nauill, and couering himselfe with his shield, hee encountered the Giant that aduanced himselfe foremost, and king Edward leaped into the Sea, to hinder the other Giant from dealing with Dramusiande: but while these foure were thus encountring together, the other knights of the Emperours Court seeing their Captaine on foote, began to follow after, so that Albayzar was constrained to come neere the Giants, because they thought he would want his ayde.

Palmerin of England being busie on the other side, seeing the Horses round about the field without their masters, doub­ted least some misfortune had fallen to his friends, whereupon he gaue his horse the spurs, and galloped to the place where he saw the greatest bickering: and séeing King Edward his fa­ther standing in the sea, dealing with such an ougly and mon­sterous Giant, he presently came to him, and stepping before him, entred into these speeches.

I desire you my gracious Lord and father, to giue ouer this enemy, and giue succour to your friend Dramusiande, for if a­ny misfortune should happen to you, your losse would be grée­ued through all Christendome.

King Edward esteeming light the words of his Sonne, would not leaue the Giant, so greatly hee desired to remaine victor: but the necessity wherein hee perceiued diuers of his friends, caused him to step backe, and giue place to the Noble Palmerin of England. Albayzar behaued himself in such braue manner, as diuers were glad to shunne his presence: which when Florendos beheld, hee aduanced himselfe to him, and such knightly prowesse was shewen on eyther side, as between them began a cruell and dangerous combate. Dramusiande preuailed so well against his enemy the Giant, as hee tum­bled downe dead before him: but himselfe was sore woun­ded, as King Edward commaunded him to be carried into the Citie.

And Palmerin of England slew the other Giant likewise, which his father left him fighting withall: but himselfe was [Page] so dealt withall, as in fiue dayes after he could weare no Ar­mour.

Albayzar no sooner perceiuing the Giants slaine, but he pre­sently retired into his galley, and so did diuers of the Turkes beside, but when Edward saw the Turkes betake themselues to their Galleys againe, hee mounted on horsebacke, giuing a signe to his company, to withdraw themselues, desiring the Soldane Be [...]lagris, the King Arnedes, the King Recinde, and the Prince Belcar (who were dealing with another Vessell that sought to take landing) to follow him: but they gaue him to vnderstand how Florendos, Platir, Blandidon, and the Gi­ant Almaroll, were carried into the Citie so sore hurt, as they were not able to sustaine themselues.

The King Recinde, Palmerin, and Belcar, were likewise grieuously wounded, which made king Edward desire them to goe into the Citie, and in the meane while Primaleon entred the field, accompanied with seauen hundred knights, desiring earnestly, that King Edward and his traine, would withdraw themselues, that they might come with a fresh assault on the enemy. But King Edward would not suffer it should be so, therefore they altogether went into the Cittie, being very much grieued, that the principall knights of their Armie so sore wounded.

CHAP. LVI.
Of the griefe and sorrowe made in Constantinople, for the dangerous estate wherein the Giant Dramussande was brought: And how the Turks placed their Campe before Citie of Constantinople.

[Page] WHen the Emperors Captaines were thus come into the citie with their traines, they passed the night in vsiting them that were so sore wounded: at whose ill lucke, Pri­maleon greatly grieued, for he iudged the want of their helpe to be such, as he was out of hope to defend the enemy from en­tring on land the next day. And most of all, for that Palmerin of England, Florendos, the King Recinde, Belcar, Berold, Don Rosuel, and Bellizart were in such case, as they could not endure to beare Armes againe so soone. Vpon this he conclu­ded to let the enemies take landing, and to suffer them to b [...]ild their Tents, and prouide for the field, in the mea [...]e while the wounded persons would be in better disposition, and the suc­cour they looked for would be likewise arriued, wherewith they had good hope to bid the enemy a braue battaile, in the meane time, they daily gaue Albayzar and his company sundry as­saults. King Edward going to visite the wounded persons, found the Prince Palmerin talking with the faire Polinarda, whose company made him forget the griefe of his hurts, for in her alone consisted the onely medicine to restore his health: in like manner he found Florandos and Miragarda, Platir, and Sidelia, Polendos and Francelian, Berolde and Onistalda of Normandie, Gracian and Claritia, Don Rosuell and Drama­tiana, Bellizant and Den [...]sa, Francian and Bernarda, Guerin and Clariana, and diuers others of the Knights, with them to whom they bare most affection.

But Dramusiande was not in like case as these fortunate Louers were, for his wounds were so yangerous, as he could not enioy the swéete company of his best beloued Arlencea, to­wards whom he remained maruellous affectionate: so that I assure you, the Emperour and all of his Court were so sorie for his misfortune, as if the Citie it selfe had béene brought into ex­treame danger.

[Page] King Edward whose minde was not on such pleasure, as he made any account of rest or quietnesse, kept his friend Dra­musiande company, hauing his wife and Quéene Flerida with him, onely to comfort the heauie and pensiue estate of Arlen­cea, whose sad case may be easily iudged by young married lo­uers. Florendos and Miragarda, visited the Giant Almaroll, whose danger almost was in the same estate with Dramusian­de: yet he was able to walke, & behaue himselfe more pleasant in company then the other, whose case was pittied and lamented of all in generall.

Soone after arriued there the Sage Aliart, by whose presence the former feareful and vncertaine doubts were somewhat cal­med, in that he certified the Emperour, how Florian would not be long absence from thence: which newes did much ioy his Maiestie, as he caught the Sage Aliart in his armes, and em­braced him with a gracious countenance.

Then came the Empresse to entertaine him with the same fauour, the like did Bazilia the Empresse of Allemaigne, Gri­donia, Polinarda, and the other princesses and Ladies: among whom the Quéene Flerida was most glad of his presence, as well to perceiue the loue King Edward her husband bare him, as also, because he had sundry times preserued the liue of his Children by his knowledge.

The same day came to the Emperours Court the Prince Floraman, who trauailed to finde the Prince Florian of the Forrest, and being aduertised how the enemies had laid siege at Constantinople, he left his Realme of Sardignia giuing charge to the Gouernours he had left there, that they should leuey a great Armie with all expedition, and send them after him to Constantinople, as you may read more at large hereafter. The same day likewise there arriued King Estrellant of Hungaria, accompanied with two thousand horsemen, and tenne thou­sand footmen, being vnder the conduct of the Prince Frisoll his Sonne.

Albayzar was greatly grieued at the losse of his men, wher­fore he gaue charge to his Chirurgions in his campe, that they should bee carefull and respectiue to them which were woun­ded, [Page] and commanded the [...]laine to bée buried. And when all things were accomplished that he thought expedient, he called the principall estates of his armie to councell, with whome hee concluded, that all persons should be vigilant and carefull of themselues that night, because the next morning he should take landing, at a certaine watch-word he would giue them.

The day had no sooner chased away the vncomfortable and obscure night, but the Ships, Gallies, Brigandines, Ga [...] ­ots, and other prouision for war, tooke landing about a league distance frō Constantinople, being not hindred or forbidden by any: whereupon they sounded the drums, trumpets, cornets, clarions, and other instruments, wherewith they made such a triumphant noyse, as the people in the Citie were much ama­zed thereat.

The Sage Aliart and Floraman, desiring to sée the Campe of the enemie, requested the Emperour, that he would lycence them to goe thither, which his Maiestie would not graunt to any: yet had hée such assurance in the knowledge of the Sage Aliart, as in what place soeuer he was, he néeded not to feare him. These two knights thus departed the Citie, being ar­med with no other defence but onely their swordes, and be­cause the day was faire and cleare, they betooke themselues to a little hill, where they might at pleasure discerne the enemies Armie. Diuers thought it good to scout out and take them, because by them they might vnderstand the strength of the Citie, but Albayzar would not grant it should be so: where­fore he sent an Esquire vnto them (who attended on him when he was in the Emperours court) to let them vnderstand, that if they would come néere and see his Campe, he, who was then in authoritie to commaund them, was such an indifferent friend vnto them, as they might come and depart without any danger.

These two knights gaue such credit to the message Albay­zar sent them, as they went in the Esquiers company, which Albayzar perceiuing, he came forth (with two Pages in very rich apparrell, attending on him) to receiue them. Afterward hee went with them thorow the Campe, because they should [Page] sée the mightie strength thereof, and he declared to them the names of the Princes in his companay, among whome were verie many Giantes, as terrible and ouglie as they which were slaine by Dramusiande and Palmerin of England.

All this while Albayzar had diligent regard to these two Christian Knights, to sée if all this sight he had showne them could discourage them with feare or doubt of theyr Wellfare: but they contained such a stoute and vndaunted countenaunce as they seemed to disdayne those occasions, which Albayzar thought should most dismay them, whereat he did not a little maruaile.

After they had séene the whole Army, Albayzar accompanied hem very neere the Citie, desiring them to salute the Em­perour and Empresse from him: then taking his leaue courte­ously of them, he returned [...]o his Campe, and they walked on very sadly, especially, the Sage Aliart, who hauing foreséene what would happen, could not hide the sorrow hee conceiued in his minde. Neuerthelesse, they behaued themselues plea­santly at their entraunce into the Cittie, because they would not discourage the mindes of the people: but when they were come to the Pallace, & into the Emperors presence, the Prince Floraman▪ by the commaundement of his Maiestie) entred in­to these speeches.

My gratious Lord, the riches which your enemies hath brought before your Cittie, were incredible in rehearsall, for if I should take vppon me to make rehearsall thereof, I should wast a great deale of time, which I may apply to better pur­pose, in certifying your excellencie of your enimies strength: wherefore this is to let your Maiestie vnderstand, that your enimies can be no lesse in number then two hundred thousand, the very simplest whereof, carryeth such a brauerie of minde, as he will abide the Féeld to the latest houre of death.

The King of Aetolia, being thirtie yéeres of age, hath the conduct this day of them which are vnder his charge, be­ing tenne thousande Horsemen, and fortie thousand Foote­men, so brauely armed, as surely I must of necessity commend them.

[Page] But aboue all the rest, the pride of the Prince Albayzar doth much amaze me, for no small estimation he made of your puissance, as himselfe gaue vs the sight of his whole Armye, graunting the like assuraunce to any of your Court, as hee did to vs, if so be they will desire to sée his Garrison, a thing which I haue diligently noted, and which cannot greatly profite him­selfe: as for the rest whereof perhappes I may be forgetfull, my good Lorde the Sage Aliart can at large discourse vnto your Highnesse.

You haue beh [...]ued your selues so well my Friends (sayd the Emperor) as it is not possible for any other to bring vs a more certaine assurance in this cause: wherefore, it is necessarie that we enter into councell, how we may auoyd the enterprise of Al­b [...]yzar and his Souldiours.

And I am content that he shall likewise sée our Cittie, so that charge be giuen to our Captaines, to behaue themselues with such circumspection, as our Enemies may not get any sud­den aduantage against vs.

When the Emperour had set downe this for a determinati­on, the Princes betooke themselues to their seuerall charges, that they might better respect the practi [...]es of the Enimie.

CHAP. LVII.
¶Of that which Albayzar did, after he had well proui­ded for his Armie; and of the succour which came to the Emperour Palmerin.

[Page] ALbayzar, prouiding for the strength of his Armye, caused such Trenches and Ram­piers of Defence and Fortification to bee made round about his Camp, as they were imagined sufficient to withstand and resist any furious Batterie whatsoeuer. And for that he would haue some knowledge of the valour of his Enemyes, hee appoynted his principall Captain in places of importance, for most assurance of his Campe, and afterwards by the consent of his Councell, he set his Galleys and Shippes on fire, reseruing but a certain number of his swiftest Brigandines: So that the sight of the F [...]re made such astonishment in Constantinople, as they fully resolued and determined to hazarde theyr liues, or to subdue the pompe and glory of their enemies, séeing they presumed so much on themselues.

The Emperour sitting in his Chaire in one of the Turrets of his Pallace, perceyued very well, that hee should not driue his Enemyes out of his Empyre, without the great effusion of Blood, and losse of his Friends. For the space of seuen dayes they continued burning theyr Shippes, leauing themselues de­stitute of prouision to depart from thence, if Fortune should op­pose her selfe against them, and at the ende of seuen dayes, they of Constantinople began to skyrmish.

The wounded Princes had recouered their former estates, except Dramusiande, and the Giant Almaroll: yet the Chirur­gions assured the Emperor, how the greatest danger was past, and they likely to doo well enough. In the meane while as King Edward and Primaleon endeuored themselues to fortifie the Cittie, the Gouernours of those Realmes belonging to the Kings present in Constantinople, sent such good prouision of strength & forces as they could possibly make ready on the sud­den, but I will rehearse them vnto you who had (in this ne­cessitie) chiefest succour sent them, from theyr Kingdomes and Signories.

First of all, the Emperour Ve [...]nar of Allemaigne, had sent him two thousand Horsemen, and twelue thousand Footmen, [Page] King Arnedes of Fraunce, had the like number. Recinde King of Spayne, had two thousand light Horsemen, and eyght thousand Footemen. The Prince Floraman had foure hun­dred Horsemen, and foure thousand Footemen. Tarnaes King of Lacedemonia, had foure hundred Horsmen, and foure thou­sand Footemen.

From Thrace, to honour their King Florian of the Forrest, came foure hundred knightes on Horsebacke, and foure thou­sand Footemen. From England came foure hundred knights and tenne thousand Footmen. From Nauarre came two hun­dred light horsemen. From Denmarke came two hundred light Horsemen.

Drapo the Duke of Normandie, came thither with two thousand Knights on Horsebacke, and foure thous [...]nd braue Footemen. To the Prince Belcar, came foure hundred Horse­men, and one thousand Footemen. Roramant King of Bohe­mia, sent foure thousand Footemen.

Estrellant arriued there, accompanyed with eyght thousand and foure hundred gallant Knightes on Horsebacke, and tenne thousand hardy fighting men on foote: who ioyning with them of the Cittie, were in number twenty thousand Horsemen, and threescore thousand Footemen.

The Emperour and his Counsell appointed, that they which were thus come to assist him, should rest themselues for certain dayes, because they had sustained a weary Iourney, so that du­ring the time, the wounded persons were able to beare Armor, with the ayde of these, they gaue Battell to their enemies.

CHAP. LVIII.
¶Of an aduenture which happened, by the arriuall of a straunge Knight accompanied with a Ladie, in the Prince Albayzars Campe.

WHile they that were come to the succour of the Emperour reposed themselues, the young Princes and Knights of the Court of Constantinople, gaue the Enemie sun­dry Assaults and skirmishes, preuailing al­wayes so happily, as the aduauntage still came on theyr side. During the time they skirmished in this manner, the Emperour with the Empresse and her Ladyes, being on a high Tower to see these braue Attempts, they perceyued to enter the Cittie to­wardes the Enemyes Campe, a Knight that séemed to haue so good opinion of himselfe, being mounted on a braue and gallant Courser, and himselfe attired in guylte Armour, whereon was wrought diuerse Ingenious knottes and Deuises in siluer, be­side, his Armour was bloody in many places, which gaue suffi­cient testimony, that the Knight daylie enioyed but little rest, and in his Shielde was Loue artificially figured, being rough­ly helde by the hayre of the head, by a bloody minded Tyrant.

This Knight seemed to carry his Launce as it were on the neck of his Horse, and hauing on the point thereof a little white Ensigne, which hee wore in signe of Peace and quietnesse. His Esquire bare another Shielde after him, couered ouer with the skinne of a wilde Beast, and another Launce in his hand, by him rid a Lady on a blacke Palfray, shée being attyred after the Turkish manner, in a Robe of white Sattine, which was cutte and pinked in many places, so that the Blacke silkes lying vn­der the white, gaue a very braue grace vnto her Apparell, be­cause [Page] the body and sléeues was very thicke beset with Pearles and stones of great estimation. This Ladies haire was spread abroad ouer her shoulders, and her face was couered because she would not be knowne.

So soone as the Knight was come néere the Prince Albay­zars Tent, he stayed for a pretie space, whereat the Turks were somewhat abashed, because they knewe not on which part this Knight should be, in that they iudged him by his Armour to be a Christian, and the Apparell of the Ladie being Turkish, they could not imagine any certaintie in this case. In the meane while the Princes in the Campe were thus regarding and be­holding the Knight, they perceyued him to sende his Esquyre to the Prince Albayzars Tent, hauing his Face couered, least hee should be knowne, when hee beganne his minde in this man­ner.

My Lorde, the Knight which you sée presumes so néere your Campe, by mee giueth you to vnderstand, that hee hath many yeeres serued the Lady in his company, yet not able to winne or once enioye her Loue: and for that shee could not well dryue him off with any more delayes or excuses, shee desired him to bring her vnto this place, where he must Enterprise to Io [...]st a­gainst foure Knights on her behalfe. And if it so fall out, that Fortune fauoureth him with the victorie, shee will not faile to requite his labour with her Loue: but if the Knightes in your Camp shall refuse to trie their valours against him, she hath gi­uen him leaue to offer the same conditions to the Emperours Knights in Constantinople, where, if refusall be made likewise, the Lady must consent to recompence him, as if hee had vanqui­shed, where she made the challenge. Therefore my Lords, you may determine with your selues, which of you dare make try­all of the valour of this Knight.

I would gladly know, said the Soldane of Persia (who was a gallaunt young Prince, and very braue in Armour) what re­compence the Knight will make him, to whom the victory may happen? You shall then my Lord (answered the Esquyre) send him your owne Esquier, for I haue reported to you what was giuen me in charge.

[Page] So, without any more words hee returned to his Maister, accompanyed with an Esquyre from the Soldane of Persia, to whome the Knight that came with the Ladie, made this aun­swere. I see well my Friend, that the request of thy Lord stan­deth with good reason, wherefore thou may [...] say vnto him, that if thy misfortune bee such▪ as that any of these foure Knightes chaunce to vnhorse me, I will not faile to deliuer him my Horse and Armour: Besides, I will shew obeysance to any he shall commaund me, on condition that this Lady may remaine at her libertie, to doo what shee shall imagine conuenient for herselfe. [...] Pagan Princes were as well contented as could be with this good offer of the Knight, wherefore they ordained to Ioust against the foure young Kinge, who were very brauely and gal­lantly attyred in rich and costly Armour. The first of them was the king of [...]: the second, the king of Trebisond: the th [...]rd, the king of Caspia: and the fourth, was the hardie Sol­dane of Persia.

King Edward, Recinde, Arnedes, Palmerin of England, and Dramusiande departed from the Cittie of Constantinople, (with a safe Conduct from the Prince Albayzar) to see these Iousts: to them came Albayzar mounted on horsebacke being vnarmed, except only a Lance which he carryed in his hand, be­ing accompanied with [...]iue other Princes and a Giant. When they were [...] neere the Princes that came from the Cittie, Al [...]yzars saluted them very graciously: but the Knight that came with the Lady, spake to them in the Greeke tongue, that they shuld apply their mindes to other affaires, [...] to wast the [...] in saluting them, whom they could not affect [...] fauour or friendshyp: when he had thus said, he returned to the Lady, and prouided himselfe to enter the Ioust.

It seemes to me (said Albayzar) that the Knight no doubt, is both hardy and valiant, because he makes shew of such a braue [...]: Wherefore I thinke it best that wee accord to his will, rather then abide the daunger of our owne liues. So conclu­ding he granted the first Ioust to the king of Tr [...]b [...]zonde, who was mounted on a goodly [...]aye Courser, his Armour of greene colour, and in his Shielde was figured in a fielde of Sinople, a [Page] Giant slayne, in witnesse that hee conquered him nobly in a Combate.

After the King of Trebisund had taken his leaue of Albay­zar, he presently ran against the strange Knight, but he encoun­tred him with such force, as his Launce slewe in pieces vp into the Ayre: neuerthelesse, the king of Trebisond sped so vnfortu­nately as hee was sent to measure his length on the ground, so fore shaken and amazed, as he was same to be [...]arried foorth of the Field. In the meane while the Knight rid to the Lady, who was very glad that hee had sped so well, the king of Caspia pre­sented him [...]elfe in the Field, being in Carnation Armour, and a Hart [...] Siluer portrayed on his Shield, in a fielde of Sable: he gaue his horse the spur [...]es against the Knight, but he was sent to keepe the king of Trebisond companie. Which the king of Bi­thinia perceyuing (he being armed like the king of Caspia) ran against the strange Knight valiantly, and meeting with him in the middest of the Carrie [...], broke his Launce brauely on his Shield, but the strange Knight failed of the breaking his Lance: yet hee mette the king so roughly, in Iousting against his bodie, as he was throwne out of his Saddle, and the straunge Knight forced to forsake his Styrrops. But when hee had recouered himselfe, he went to the Ladie, desiring her not to thinke amisse of him for that little [...]ayle, and he would make her amends on the fourth King.

Then the Soldan of Persia, being brauely mounted in guilt Armour, and bearing in his Shielde, Fortune stately placed in her Charryot of Tryumph, in a Golden fielde, aduanced him­selfe into the Course, and Albayzar did him the honour to clap downe the [...], Helmet, deliuering him likewise the Launce hee carryed in his owne hand, whereat the Straunge Knight was [...] his Enemy made such account of: so taking his leaue of the [...], he pricked foorth to receyue the Soldane, [...], they meeting both together with such [...]orce, as theyr Launces were broken, [...] through the middest, yet themselues nothing [...] where [...]pon the S [...]l­dane of Persia (seeing the [...] prowresse of his Enemy) [Page] came vnto him with these wordes. I thinke it good (Syr Knight) that wee yet once more hazard the tryall of the Ioust: but because I see you destitute of a Launce, I will intreate the Prince Albayzar to bestowe one vpon you. Syr (answered the strange Knight) I am content to allow any thing you shall ordaine, yet am I somewhat offended with my selfe, that I did not make you partaker of your fellowes misfortune. Marrye I perswade my selfe, that the faulte consisted in my Horse, who is so sore laboured with trauell, as hee can hardly performe his dutie.

Syr Knight (answered the Soldane) you shall not complaine for so small a matter, therefore I will bestowe one of my owne Horses vpon you. In troth Sir (answered the strange Knight) I am so vnacquainted with this Countrey, as I knowe not at whose handes I might request such a fauour: yet for all my want is great, and your offer very courteous, I cannot with good will make choyse of your horse. My Friend (saide Dra­musiande) for that I thinke well of your behauiour and gentle­nesse, I pray you to accept this Horse, whereon I am mounted. Good Sir (answered the strange Knight, in that you graunt him such courtesie, who is a straunger, and vnknowne to you, your good will in the offer would highly impeach mee, if I should refuse it.

So hée alighted from his Horse, and mounted on that which Dramusiande had sent him, giuing a signe to the Soldane, that without delay, he should defende himselfe.

Then each of them taking a Launce, they encountred in the middest of the Carriere so brauely, as the straunge Knight loste both his Styrrops, but the Soldane of Persia, was throwne to the Earth so sore hurt, as there came foure knights to carry him foorth of the fielde.

The straunge Knight returning againe, hée came vnto the Prince Albayzar, with these wordes. You see Syr, that I haue accomplished the Challenge which I presented vnto you on this Ladyes behalfe: therefore (Syr Albayzar) if you will graunt licence to any more of your Knightes, to deale in the [Page] same triall with me, I will attend the [...] the Ioust héere till night, or so long as my horse is able to hold out.

I perceiue well Sir (aunswered the Prince Albayzar) that the pride wherewith you are accompanied, maketh you so gal­lant in speeches: but assure youre selfe, it doth not a little gréeue me, that I am generall of this armie, which is a hinderance to me for dealing with you. Neuerthelesse, for the desire I haue to pull downe your glorious stomacke, I am content that all my knightes shall hazard their fortune against you. King Edward and the other Princes with him, did highly commend the courage of the strange knight: and but for that he spake the Greeke language so perfectly, they would haue iudged him to be the Prince Florian of the Forrest.

It was not long before foure knights (from the Prince Al­bayzar) presented themselues in the field, very brauely Ar­med, whome the strange knight vnhorsed one after another presently: whereat Albayzar was much offended, so that hee desired the knight to rest himselfe a while, to which wordes the knight thus answered.

You see Sir, I haue two Launces yet left, and I am very willing to bestow the breaking of them: therefore send the Giant that standeth next you, and he and I will trie our for­tunes together. Alas Sir (answered Albayzar) you are too forward in wishing Fortune to turne her face from you, ther­fore I pray thee Framustant (quoth the Giant) that thou wilt graunt the knight his honest request.

The Giant was so glad to doe any thing that might content Albayzar, as he armed himselfe immediately, and giuing his horse the spurres against the knight, they met together so for­cibly, as the knight was constrained to catch hold about the necke of his horse, being sorie to receiue such a foyle in the pre­sence of so many good knights.

Wherefore, to reuenge himselfe on his enemie, he tooke the second Launce, wherwith he encountred the Giant so worthi­ly, as himselfe was almost cast out of his saddle: but such was his fortune against the Giant, as the point of his Launce en­tred the Beuere of his Helmet, whereby he cast him on the [Page] croup [...]r of his horse, and the Giant thinking to recouer him­selfe, pulde the bridle of his horse so strongly to him, as the horse fell downe kackward vpon him, which fall [...]id so astonish him, as he was carried out of the field depriued of his senses. This mishap disliked the Prince Albayzar, to whom the straunge knight came with these spéeches.

If thou thinke it good (Syr Albayzar) I will now depart into the Citie, for that the Ladie desireth me so to do: it draw­eth towards Night, and the entertainement you will allowe me heere, I iudge shall be very slender. I see well then (aun­swered Albayzar) that it is not your will to vse me in any thing, neuerthelesse, for the pr [...]wesse I haue seene in you, I am content to accompanie the Lady to the Gate of the Citie, not doubting of my assurance, beeing lycenced by the King Re­c [...]nde and these other Princes. King Edward and his friends tooke in [...]ood part the words of Albayzar, and when he had brought them to the gates of the City, he tooke his leaue of the king Recinde and all the rest, desiring the strange knight to tell him who he was.

You demaund the thing (answered this knight) which I force not greatly to make knowne vnto you, wherefore you shall vnderstand, that I am the knight of the Sauage man, your principal enemie, and this Lady is the Queen of Thrace my Wife: then he tooke off his Helmet, saying he was glad to meete him in the place, where he would haue occasion to deale further with him. At th [...]se wordes Albayzar was so offen­ded, as he would not speake to any all that night. King Ed­ward and his friendes rode into the Citty ioyfully, certify­ing the Emperour of the arriuall of Florian. The Queene of Thrac [...] was very graciously entertayned by the Empresse and the other Ladyes, who maruailed much at her strange appar­rell, w [...]ich was the workmanship of the Queene Milia, wher­of the [...] to make a present, t [...] one of the daughters of the king Armato her brother, as I haue already declared to you. The Emperour was so glad at the arriuall of his Ne­phew, as hee would hardly suffer him out of his presence, hee kissed the hande of the Empresse his grandmother, and of the [Page] Quéene Flerida his Mother: and after hee had saluted all his friends, hee was conducted to his chamber, to haue his wounds visited, which he receiued in the Ioust, against the Prince Al­bayzars Knights.

CHAP. LIX.
¶Here shall be declared, after what manner the Prince Florian of the Forrest arriued at Constantinople, and of manie things that happened after his com­ming.

SO soone as the Prince Florian had recoue­red his Quéene and Wife, by ayde and as­sistance of the Sage Aliart, he followed Ad­uentures a certaine time, because she should perceiue his valiant and Noble disposition: but when he vnderstood the hard case wher­into his déere Friendes at Constantinople were brought, he changed his former deter­mination, and caused his Quéene to decke her selfe in the Tur­kish Attyre, and tooke his way to the place where his troubled Friends remained. And because he could not enter the Cittie, but he must first passe the Campe of his Enemyes, he disguised himselfe very strangely, couering his Shielde with the Sauadge deuise, and carryed the Shielde whereof I haue spoken alreadie, which he found in one of the chambers of the Castle, where the Quéene Leonarda was Enchaunted.

In this manner hee presented himselfe before Albayzars Tents, where he sped in Iousting as you haue hearde before, and after he had rested himselfe two dayes, he desired the Em­perour to giue his Enemyes Battell, because he thought euery day a yeare, till he might encounter with the Prince Albayzar, but his Maiesty deferred the matter so long as he could, because [Page] he would be assured of the good disposition of all his Armie. The Turkes tooke it very strangely that they had trauelled so farre, to lay siege to the principall Citie in all the Empire, and yet to [...] so long before they ioyned in Battell: but Albayzar knew very wel the aduantage that they of the City might get of them, in that they were compassed wi [...]hin such strong Walles of de­fence, besides, that Cittie was plentifully stored with good and hardie Knightes, who would murther many of his, ere they would yéeld themselues. Therefore he changed his mind from giuing the assault, and made hauocke and spoyle of them about the Citie thereby to prouoke the Emperour to seeke reuenge: but in the meane while they continued their spoyling, the Sol­dane of Persia, sent a Messenger to the Emperour, who bee­ing brought into his Maiesties presence, setting his knée to the ground, he began in this manner.

Most puissant Emperour, the Soldane of Persia, my Soue­raigne Lord, with the licence of the Prince Albayzar his cap­taine, and the consent of the whole Turkish Armie, saith, that he is greatly offended at that which hath happened, in the seue­rall Iousts against his Nephew Florian, with whom he would once more gladly hazard himselfe: on condition, that you willl suffer twelue Knights of your Court to come into the Fielde to morrowe morning, to Ioust and Combate against twelue Turkes, of which companie my Lord will be the captaine. And thus much we will graunt, that the Combat shall be fought be­fore the Empresse Chamber windowe, to the ende, that these Princesses and Ladies may see the valour and prowesse, which shall be shewen on both sides, and they will agree to giue ouer, and ende the Combate, when these Ladyes shall thinke good so to command them. Moreouer, he humbly desired the Empresse, that it may stand with her pleasure (after the Iousts be ended) to giue them leaue to daunce with these Ladies: the Emperour returned him this answere.

Thou maist (my friend) say vnto thy Lord that I am content to graunt his request, and the twelue knights o [...] my Court, shal not faile to meete them in the Fielde at two houres warning: beside, the Empresse shall giue them leaue to daunce with these [Page] Ladyes, who I trust will agrée to what I determine, albeit they know them for theyr sworne Enemies. But if any other Knights come in companie with the twelue, thou mayst say to the Soldane thy Lord, that they are forbidden to come in Arms, the like doe I promise with the knights of my Court, that none but themselues shall come Armed into the Field. The Esquire returning with his answere to the Soldane of Persia, both hée and his Companions beganne presently to prepare theyr De­uises and Armour.

CHAP. LX.
¶Howe the Combate betweene twelue Turkes and twelue Christians begunne, and howe the Ladyes caused it to be giuen ouer presently.

BEtwéene the Knights of the Emperours Courte arose great controuersie, because e­uery one stroue to be of the number of the twelue, and very hardly could they be quie­ted, such was theyr earnest desire to deale with the Turkes: yet in the ende they were glad to obey the determination of Florian, who chose the twelue according as he named them to you. The first was Palmerin of England his Bro­ther, the Prince Florendos, Gracian, Berolde, Floraman, of Sardignia, Blandidon, Platir, Pompides, the King Estrellant of Hungaria, Don Rosuell, Francian, Sonne to the King Po­lendos, and Don Rosian de la Bronde: these twelue Knights were Armed very richly, hauing theyr Coates of Armes made by theyr Ladyes, King Edward, Arnedes, Recinde, the Soldan Bellagris, and the Giant Dramusiande, they being all vnar­med, accompanyed these Knights into the Field, which was in the same place, where the Soldan of Persia had appointed it, be­cause the Empresse and her Ladyes might see theyr behauiour.

[Page] Then came the Soldane of Persia, and the eleuen knights of his company, they being honoured with the presence of the kings of Gamba, of Sparta, of Armenia, & the Giant Framu­stant, they being all vnarmed. The Soldane of Persia desired greatly to vnhorse the prince Florian of the Forrest, hee com­ming foremost with the King of Aetolia, who of the two was thought the most valiaunt: against him Palmerin of England determined to Ioust, for hee knew him by the deuise in his shéelde, which was a golden tower in a field of Sable. The Soldane of Persia clapt downe the Beuere of his Helmet, and the King of Armenia gaue him his Launce, so, when they were all readie to the Ioust, at the sound of the Trumpets they ran altogether couragiously, and met one another with such force, as the most part of them was cast to the ground. Palmerin of England enconntred the king of Aetolia so brauely, as he was sent to measure his length on the ground, and himselfe was so shaken, as he forsooke both his Stirrops. Florian and the Soldane of Persia encountred with such force, as they were both cast foorth of their Saddles. Florendos vnhorsed the Prince of Arfasia, named Argelao: in bréefe, they were all vn­horsed, except Palmerin, Platir, and the King Polendos, who desiring to accompany their friends, alighted from their hor­ses to charge their enemies. The Soldane of Persia, and the king of Aetolia, who were more offended at their misfortune then all the other, presented themselues before their enemies, and so with the aide of their companions, they beganne the Combate with the Sword: but they sped no better thereby then they did at the Ioust, which the Ladies pittying, and séeing the Soldane of Persia in great daunger, by reason that Florian had woonne the aduantage ouer him, likewise, that Palmerin and Florendos had brought their enemies into sub­iection, concluded that the Princesse Miragarda, accompanied with foure other Ladies, and the king Tarnaes of Lacedemo­nia, should goe into the field to separate them: but so soone as the Combattants had espied her, they would not suffer her to come so farre as they were, but gaue ouer their Combat and come to meete her.

[Page] The Princesse Miragarda, thought her selfe greatly honou­red by theyr forbearance of the Combate, and hauing very gra­tiously thanked them all, shee returned backe againe, holding the Prince Florendos by the hand, and they all by degrées fol­lowing in decent manner. When they were come to the Pal­lace, the Soldane and his companie were very honorably enter­tained by the Emperour, the Empresse, Miragarda, Gridonia, Flerida, and the other Princes, who gaue the Princesse Poli­narda to vnderstand, that the Soldane of Persia thought mar­uellous well on her.

The Emperour caused them to be brought into the Cham­ber of Presence, which was richly behanged with cloathes of in­estimable value: but when the Turks entred the Chamber, their mindes were rauished with beholding the stately maner therof. King Edward, Recinde, Arnedes, and the other Kings, enter­tained the Turkes with singular humanitie, which made them iudge, that the courtesie and bountie of the Emperours Court, could not be matched in all the world beside: but when they be­held the rare and excellent beauty of the Ladies, they imagined, that their Knightes preuailed more by theyr Heauenly feature, then by the strength that consisted in themselues. The Soldane of Persia still viewing the Princesse Miragarda, tooke her to be the faire Polinarda: but at length he found how he was decey­ued, for he saw Florendos still in her company, and that Pal­merin kept his Wife Polinarda in talke with him, which made him presently recall his error.

As for the other Turkish Princes, whose mindes were onely to seeke the spoyle of the Cittie, they tooke their leaue and depar­ted, and when they were come to theyr Campe, they practised which way to worke theyr trayterous intents. The Soldane of Persia tooke the Princesse Polinarda to daunce, the king of Aetolia tooke the beautifull Princesse Miragarda, & the Soldane Albayzar took the Queen Leonarda▪ knowing that the Prince Florian would scantlie bee pleased therewith: but the King of Cospia, albeit hée was young himselfe, yet he refused all the o­ther Ladyes, and tooke the Quéene Flerida: so, falling to their Courtlie Pastimes, after they had Daunced so much as pleased [Page] themselues, in courteous manner they departed thence. But as they were going foorth of the Chamber, the Giant Framu­stant (who had all this while well viewed Arlencea) was so ra­uished in affection towards her, as hee challenged the Combate against Dramusiande on the morrow: and because they would not dally on either side, they threw downe theyr Gages, which the Emperour caused to be taken vp, assuring them the Fielde on his behalfe, and the Soldane Albayzar made them the same promise. In this maner they tooke their leaue one of another, euery one wishing that the Night were past, because they had good hope to see a notable Combat, and this you shall vnderstand by the waye, that Framustant was the onely Giant on whose force Albayzar wholly reposed himselfe.

CHAP. LXI.
¶Of a Noble and valiant Combate, betweene Dra­musiande, and the Giant Framustant.

ON the next morrow Dramusiande addres­sed himselfe to the place where the Combat should bee fought, accompanyed with the Emperor Vernar, and king Edward and his Sonnes, of whome he was more loued and honoured, then of all the other.

It was not long after, before the Giant Framustant came, being attended on by di­uers of his companions and friendes, hée being in an Armour very rich and strong, as it was necessary for him, dealing with one of such valour as was the Giant Dramusiande, whome he exceeded farre in hugenesse of stature, beeing mounted on a [Page] lusty Courser, which made Albayzar and his Friends imagine that the victory would happen on his side: but they that were acquainted with the noble prowesse of Dramusiande, iudged the contrarie.

Certaine words were vttered on eyther side, but they con­tinued not long, for Dramusiande beeing very earnest in desire, to chastise the proude behauiour of Framustant, gaue his horse the Spurres against him, who likewise prepared himselfe to entertain him: and they encountred with such excéeding force, as they were glad to catche holde about the necks of their hor­ses to shunne the fall.

But they immediately recouered their Saddles againe, and drawing theyr Swordes out of their scabbards, they began to charge one an other with such Furious stroakes, as surely the Combat séemed to be most dangerous: but because they could not méete so closely together on Horsebacke as they would, they both alighted, and Dramusiande behaued himselfe with such ex­pert and nimble dexteritie in fight, as Framustant could fasten very few stroakes on him, but hee layd on loade on his Enemy, and such was the eagernesse of theyr Quarrell on eyther side, as it could hardly bee iudged to whome the aduantage would happen.

So long endured the Combate, as their shields were so bro­ken and defaced, that they could find but little defence in them, and theyr Armour was so cruelly cut and mangled, as theyr bo­dyes were wounded in many places: which made all the Re­gardants of this minde, that this Combate deserued as great commendation as euer did any: yea, the Combat betwéen Dra­musiande and the Giant Barocant, might not compare with this, for that Framustant shewed himselfe more sufficient in power then the other was.

In briefe, the doubtfulnes of this Combat was such, as Vic­torie was not to be hoped for on eyther side, for Fortune (who reserued these Champyons for Actions of greater moment) would not suffer that Combate to endure any longer: for, at that very instant time, there arriued in the Fielde the Princesse Targiana, accompanyed with the Princesse of Armenia, and [Page] diuers worthy Knights, who being aduertised that the famous Cittie of Constantinople was besieged, desired to trauell thi­ther, to sée the Prince Albayzar: but before they came foorth of theyr Kingdomes, they left sufficient Gouernours to take the charge of them, and afterward (being accompanyed with two thousand Knightes) they iourneyed vntill they came before the Walles of Constantinople.

The Princesse Targiana bearing great good will to the Empe­rour, for the honour hee bestowed on her in his Court, beganne to wéepe and take it heauily, séeing her Friends so troubled and brought into danger: but when she had knowledge of the Com­bate betwéene Framustant and Dramusiande, she would not a­light from her horse, but entred the Field; the Prince Albayzar beeing with her, (who was not a little glad of her arriuall) the Princesse of Armenia, the Soldane of Persia, and sundry other Kings in her companie.

In this manner shee came where these two Giants fought the Combate, and approaching to Dramusiande, shee layde her hand on his right shoulder: then taking her maske frō her face, she spake vnto him in this manner. Me thinks it were reason (Syr Dramusiande) that all former quarrels should be set apart and ended, at the presence of her who is your loyall and vnfai­ned Friend. Dramusiande calling her to his remembrance, at length returned her this answer.

Certainely Madame, he might be accounted of an vngentle minde, that would refuse to be vanquished, on condition that you thought it agréeable to your nature: and I iudge you doe aduan­tage me very much, in wishing mee to giue ouer the Combate, especially, seeing I am matched with such a strong and puissant Enemie. I knowe well (said Framustant) that these glozing wordes are not spoken from the heart, but onely (as it were) to flowte and s [...]orne me: neuerthelesse, I hope to make you finde them true in the ende. I pray thée Framustant (answered Dra­musiande) shew thy selfe at this instant somewhat obedient to Madame Targiana, considering wée are in the place, where we may at all times trie our selues together.

Albayzar commaunded Framustant to withdraw himselfe, [Page] and in the meane while the Emperor Vernar, King Edward, and diuers other Princes came to the Princesse Targiana (but Florian of the Forrest shruncke away into the Cittie, because he would not haue her knowe him) and after they had saluted her as her dignitie deserued, she willed them to doo her humble dutie to the Emperor, the Empresse, and all the other Prin­cesses, her friends.

So, she tooke her leaue of them, they returning into the Cit­tie with Dramusiande, and she departing with Albayzar and the Princes to their Campe, where she was receyued meruai­lous statelie on all sides, they being very glad to haue the company of Ladies, as well as the Princes had in the Cittie.

The Emperor of Allemaigne and King Edward, spent their time in discoursing on the beauty of the Princesse of Armenia, who exceeded farre the Princesse Targiana, and continuing the commendation of this fayre Lady, they came to the Pal­lace, the Emperor reioycing greatly at the arriuall of the Princesse Targiana, and the Empresse bare so great good will vnto her, as the Princesse and Ladies sought to desire lycence, that they might goe welcome the Princesse Targiana, but she her self so flattered the prince Albayzar, as she obtained lycence of him, to goe shew her reuerence to the Empresse and her La­dies.

On the next morning she rode brauely to the Cittie, accom­panied with the Princesse of Armenia and the Soldane of Per­sia, with diuers other Princes who brought them to the Citie, at the entraunce wherof, the Emperour sate in his Chayre (be­ing brought thither for the honour of Targiana) and there he tooke her in his armes, as if she had bene his owne Daughter: the like he did to the Princesse of Armenia, the Soldane of Persia, and the other Kinges that came in the company with the Princesse Targiana, and so he was caried with them to the Pallace, where entring the Empresse Chamber, she was en­tertained with gratious courtesie, both she and all her compa­ny beside. After they had imbraced one another, the Prin­cesse Polinarda presented the Queene Flerida to Targiana, whome she held by the hand, vsing many gentle salutations [Page] to her: but after she had knowledge of Miragarda and Leo­narda, she perceiued verie well that her beautie might not compare with theirs, and gréeuing that Leonarda had escaped so well from the place where she caused her to be enchaunted, she came to the Princesse Miragarda with these spéeches.

I cannot chuse (Madame) but estéeme meruailous well of their paines, that aduenture their honour in the field in the defence of your beautie: which is the cause that I must take in very good part, the labour that the Prince Albayzar bestowed on your behalfe. To the Quéen Leonarda she would not speak one word, because she was married to the Prince Florian, whome she condemned as her mortall enemie. The Princesse of Armenia, sitting betwéene Miragarda and Leonarda, was very much abashed, in that she was not acquainted with any of the Ladies of the Emperors Court, who (notwithstanding) entertained her very honourablie: thus they continued their Princelie courtesies one to another, till the night drawing on, Targiana tooke her leaue of the Emperor, desiring his Ma­iestie to excuse her for the warre, which was commenced con­trary to her will.

The Empresse and the Ladies brought them to the Pallace gate, where (on eche side) they parted with such heauinesse, as they could not speake to one another: but the Emperor him­selfe accompanied them without the Cittie, and because Tar­giana excused her selfe of the warre, which Albayzar had en­terprised against his Maiestie, he tooke her by the hand, spea­king to her in this manner.

I promise you (Madame) it is not a little griefe to me, that I cannot at this time witnesse, how le [...]th I am to be iudged vngratefull vnto you, who deserues to be honoured with most gratious seruice. And as for the malicious dealing of Albayzar, trust me, it cannot diminish one iote of the good will I beare you: but this I assure you, you may dispose both of me and my Court at your pleasure, and may make your selfe as bolde and welcome héere, as if you were in the great Turke your Fa­thers Court.

So breaking off, and saluting eche other with great cour­tesie, [Page] the Emperour was carryed backe to his Pallace, and Tar­giana was conducted to the Camp, accompanied with the Em­perour Vernar, the Kings of England, Fraunce, and Spayne, and many other Princes of the Emperors Court, who hauing brought her to the Campe, tooke their leaue, and returned to the Citty, deuising seuerally among themselues, to whose lotte Tar­giana, and the other Ladyes should fall, if so be the victory chan­ced on theyr side: for it is oftentimes the nature of Souldiers, to share & diuide the spoyle among themselues, before Fortune hath deliuered it into theyr hands.

CHAP. LXII.
¶Of the Battell betweene the Christians and the Turks, and of that which happened.

NOt many Dayes after the arriuall of the Princesse Targiana, the Princes (as well on the one side as on the other) concluded to ioyne in Battell, Marrie the Christians were more desirous thereto then the Turks, because the Victuals beganne to waxe scant within the Cittie: Besides, Albayzar came oftentimes, and prouoked them also with his Standard and Ensigns displayed, which vrged the Knights to cry & call to theyr Cōmanders and Captains, to suffer them to saillie foorth of the Cittie: for it was a griefe to them to be so enclosed within, and theyr Enemyes come daring so boldely to them without. Vppon this, Primaleon would gladly haue is­sued foorth, if the other Princes would haue bin ruled after him, but they would not Aduenture so rashly, because many of them were weake and sickly with trauelling on the Seas, therefore [Page] they determined to recouer themselues in perfect assurance of their health, before they would thuste themselues into the face of daunger.

After they had well rested and recouered themselues, and found that they were strong and able to deale with the Enemie, the Commaunders summoned their traines into the Field, and King Edward being Generall of the whole Forces, commaun­ded both Horse-men and Foote-men to prepare themselues to Battell. The first Squadron was conducted by the Soldane Bellagris: to whome was committed fiue thousand good Sol­diers, being all his owne Subiects. The second was giuen in charge to Recinde King of Spaine: who had the conduct of thrée thousand, but then sent him from the Kingdome of Spayne. The third was led by Arnedes King of Fraunce, who had the charge of the like number as the King of Spaine had, with the two thousand Souldiers that were sent him from France. The fourth was vnder the conduct of Polendos King of Thes­salie, who had attending on him the like number. The fift was in the charge of the Emperour Vernar of Allemaigne: and the sixt and last (being foure thousand) was conducted by King Ed­ward of England. Primaleon would not this day take vpon him any charge, that he might the better giue succour to those places where he perceiued most daunger, because he iudged it a pollicie to be vsed in Warre.

All these that followe were brauely séene in the Fielde this Day, Belcar, Drapos of Normandie, Maiortes, otherwise called the Great Dog, Palmerin of England, Florian of the Forrest, Florendos, Platir, Blandidon, Berolde Prince of Spayne, Flo­raman of Sardignia, Gracian of France, Don Rosuell, Belli­zart, Onistalde, Tenebrant, Francian, Pompides, the Sage Ali­art, the King Estreliant, Frisoll, Albanis of Frieze, Rodamont, Dragonalt King of Nauarre, Luyman of Burgundie, Germaine of Orleance, Tremoran, Don Resiran de la Bronde, Dramu­siande, Almaroll, and all the most renowmed Knightes of the Emperors Court, who were in the Squadron vnder the conduct of the Soldane Bellagris, they all concluding with themselues, that so soone as the Battell should be begunne, they would each [Page] of them take part on that side, where theyr dutie and affection did best serue them.

The King Tarnaes (accompanyed with many valiaunt Knights, had committed to his charge the defence of the Cittie, and of the Footemen were chosen fiftie thousand, such as were accounted the most wisest and expert Souldiers, that were vn­der the conducting of the King Tarnaes, to helpe to preuent any danger imminent to the Cittie. King Edward himselfe, being very braue and gallantly Armed, ceased not to visite his charge of Horsemen, and likewise hee came among the young Princes and Knightes, encouraging them in noble spéeches, and with a countenance bewraying the inuincible minde of a Conquerour, desiring them to remember theyr Knightly déedes passed, which might be an occasion to stirre them vp more nobly, in defence of the flower of all Christendome.

With these and other such like spéeches, he did so animate and embolden all his Traine, as they that were the most fearefull, and had least minde to deale with their enemies, séemed as wil­ling and forwards to the Battell, as hée that was the brauest Souldier in the Field: which when the King perceiued, he with­drew himselfe and his company, commanding the Soldane Bel­lagris to giue the first assault.

Albayzar diuided his Horsemen in ten companyes, giuing to euery Squadron fiue thousand men. The first Squadron was conducted by the Soldan of Persia, who was accompanied with the Giant Framustant, and about fiue hundred wel appro­ued Souldiers. The second was giuen in charge to the king of Trebizonde: the third, to the king of Caspia: the fourth, to the king of Armenia: the fift, to the king of Gamba: the sixt, to the king of Sparta: the seuenth, to the king of Bithinia: the eight, to the prince Argelo of Arfasia: the tenth and last, was conducted by the Soldane Albayzar himselfe, with whome were seauen Giants for the Guard of his person.

But so soon as Framustāt espied Dramusiande in the forefront of the Christians Armie, being desirous to approoue himselfe a­gainst him onely, hée went (by the licence of Albayzar) to the foremost Squadron of the Turkes, because hee thought by this [Page] meanes to encounter with Dramusiande. The young princes in Albayzars Campe, were diuided into foure parts, each part contained fiue and twenty thousand: and they that were left beside, were sent to the Pauillons, for safegarde of the princesse Targiana, and the princesse of Armenia.

As for the richnesse of their Armour, and ingenious Deuises, which these knights (as well on the one side as the other) bare in this conflict, would trouble the eloquent tongue of Marcus Tul­lius Cicero, to make true sufficient discourse thereof. But to yéelde the greater contentment to those friendely Gentlemen, who take delight in reading of this famous Hystorie, I will re­hearse the Names of them that were brauest in the Fielde: and first I will begin with the Christians, wherof there were some­times two or thrée together, whose Armour and Deuises were like in colour or proportion.

King Edward, the Emperour Vernar, and the Soldane Bel­lagris, had theyr Armour in Scarlet, white and blacke colours, with mightie Chaynes of Golde crossing theyr Bodyes, and in theyr shieldes they bare a flying Griffon, in a fielde of Siluer, and vnderneath was written in Letters of Golde, the Names of such as they estéemed to bee their best beloued, and most fa­mous Friends.

Primaleon and the King Polendos, were in white Armour, and in theyr shieldes was portrayed in a siluer fielde, a clouen Rocke, which Deuise Primaleon was woont to beare, when he was amorous of the princesse Gridonia his Wife. Recinde, Arnedes, and Francian, were in gylt Armour, and two Lyons Rampant in their shieldes, in a field of Azure. The King of Vn­garia, Estrellant, and Belcar his Vnkle, were in black armour, shadowed with little streams of Gold, because it was not long since the deceasse of the King Frisoll and Ditree, and for theyr Deuises they had figured in theyr shieldes a golden Trée, in a fielde of Sable.

Palmerin of England, and the prince Florendos, were in gréen Armour, very thicke beset with little fillets of gold, and in theyr shieldes was figured Fortune in a Siluer fielde, whereby was vnderstood, that they did yet repose some trust in her.

[Page] The Prince Floraman of Sardignia, and the Kinght of the Sauadge-man, had theyr Armours of an Indian coulour, all wrought ouer with little shrubbes of Golde: but the Deuises of theyr shieldes were contrarie: for Floraman had portrayed in his shielde, Death holding a Lady by the hand, in a fielde of Sa­ble, and Florian kept his Sauadge Deuise, wherewith he had at­chieued so many honorable victories. Dragonalt King of Na­uatre, and Albanis of Frieze, king of Denmarke, were in redde Armour, with circles of siluer, crosse thwarting euery way: and in their shields was pictured in a field of Sinople, Loue, holding a Knight vnderneath his féet: for this Deuise the Princesse Mi­ragarda commanded Dragonalt to carry all his life time, when he was vanquished by the prince Florendos, before the Castle of Almaroll.

The Prince Berolde, and Onistalde his Brother, were both in gylt Corselets, but their Bases were blacke, and in their shields was figured little flames of fire, in a field of Sable. Po­linard and Muncalion, had their Armour of gréene and Carna­tion colours, and in their shields was displaied a siluer Sea, in a field of Sinople. Blandidon and Frisoll, were in black Armor, carrying for theyr Deuises in their shields, two golden Grif­fons, in a Fielde of Geules. Pompides and Platir were in gréene Armour, and eache of them carried in his shielde a siluer Bull in a fielde of Sinople: for Pompides tooke very great de­light in this Deuise.

The Armours of the prince Gracian, and that of Guerin his Brother, was of Gréene, Scarlet, and white colours, with fil­lets of Golde, crosse strickt to separate the colours, and in theyr shieldes was figured a Garden of flowers, in a siluer Fielde. Rodamont and Bellizart, had theyr Armour of Verimillion co­lour, and in theyr shieldes they carryed Hope, in the habite of a Woman, but depriued of life: this Deuise was in a fielde of Geules.

Don Rosuell and Dramian were both in white Armour, very thicke beset with Roses of Golde, and in their shields was pic­tured a displayed Ensigne of siluer in a Golden fielde.

[Page] Basilliart and Didon his Brother, were in Azure Armour, all wrought ouer with little Siluer shrubbes, and in the same manner were their shields. Luyman of Burgundie, and Tre­moran, had their Armour of Tawny colour, as colour confor­mable to their amorous thoughts: but because Tremoran was out of hope to espouse his Ladie, he carried his Deuise according to his ill happe: and Layman of Burguudie, being in the same case, was the more willing to kéepe his companie, and therefore they carryed for theyr Deuises in theyr Shielees, Sifiphus tum­bling his restlesse stone in a field of Sable. The Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley, and Don Rosian de la Bronde, were in white Armour, and this was the maner of the Deuises in their shieldes. The Sage Aliart had the figure of God Apollo in his shield, in a field of Sinople, and Don Rosian had in his shielde, the tower of Nemrod, from whence hee was lineally descended. Maiortes and the Giant Almaroll, were in blacke Armour, and theyr shieldes of the same colour, without any maner of Deuise.

The Giant Dramusiande was in a strong Armour of A [...]ier, and his shielde of the same manner: of whome the Christians made especiall account, because they knew the noble valour hee was indued withall. Diuers others were very braue, both in theyr Armour, and Deuises of their shieldes, which made a gal­lant shewe among the Christians: but I let them passe at this time, to auoyde prolixitie.

And now wee will speake somewhat of the Prince Albay­zar, who was very gallantly mounted in a Gréene Armour, which was thicke beset with Spheares of gold, in signe of vic­tory, and in his shield was pictured in a fielde of Sinople, the liuely and naturall forme of the Princesse Targiana. The Sol­dane of Persia, was in a Carnation coloured Armour, beeing very thicke beset with precious stones of incredible estimation, and about the skyrts of his Bases were framed diuersitie of fine and curious artificiall knottes of Gold, in the middest whereof stood two Letters of P. P. which he had caused to be placed there, onely for that they were the first Letters of the Name of the Princesse Polinarda, towards whome he was maruellous af­fectionate, and he was in good hope to be rewarded with her, if [Page] they woonne the victorie: in his Shield was figured Hope, in a gréen vesture like a young beautifull Ladie, and vnderneath her was written in letters of golde, the name of the Princesse Po­linarda. The king of Gaspia was in Tawny Armour, strea­ked ouer in diuers places with blacke, in signe that he had bene vanquished in the Combate past: and in his shielde he bare for his deuise, a Beare, hauing his clawes al bloody, in a field of Sa­ble, whereby hee gaue them to vnderstand, that he had good hope to bathe his hands in the blood of his Enemies. The king of Trebisonde, was in red Armour, all ouer figured with little sil­uer Birds, hauing their wings spread abroad, in manner as they were flying, and carryed the picture of god Mars in his Shielde, with the Minotaurs-head, that he conquered in Creete: this de­uise was in a golden Field. The king of Sparta was in white Armour, and in his shield was portrated a Lyon torne in pieces, because he had torne a Lion himself, when he was in his youth­full time. The king of Aetolia was in blacke Armour, bearing for his Deuise in his shielde, a blacke Bull, in a field of Geules. The king of Armenia was in Azured Armour, wrought all o­uer with roses of golde, and in his shield was figured a Phoenix, in a fielde of Azure: whereby his meaning was, that his Ladie was the onely Phoenix of beauty in the world, to whome no o­ther might equall her selfe. The king of Gamba was in guylt Armour, with his Bases of siluer, and in his Shield was pictu­red a golden Lion in a siluer fielde. The king of Bythinia was in gréen Armour, crosse-streaked with bonds of siluer, coupling in manner of knots: and in his shield he caried a golden Tiger rampant, against a Rock of Christal, in a field of Sinople. The Prince Argelao of Arfasia, had his Armour like to the king of Bythinia. Many other of the Prince Albayzars knights came into the fielde, being very brauely Armed, but I will let them passe vnnamed at this time: assuring you that Framustant and the other Giants were armed very gallantly, & behaued them­selues with such report in the field, as they thought verily to dis­may the Christians with their countenance.

CHAP. LXIII.
¶Of the first Battell betweene the Christians and the Turkes, and the successe thereof.

THe Armye on eyther side, being appointed in good and decent maner, the Potentates, Kings, Princes, and persons of most Au­thoritie (would néeds goe place themselues in the formost rancke) holding this opinion, that in such a renowmed Battell wherein the perill of all Christendom consisted, they which presented themselues the foremost in Fight, should deserue the greatest honor and glory in the Field: which consideration made the Captaines leaue theyr charges to their Lieutenants, and come and place themselues in the face of the Battell.

Then the Drummes and Trumpets sounding gallantly on either side, the Soldane of Persia marched on with his traine, to receiue the first Squadron of the Christians, and meeting togi­ther, Primaleon encountred the King of Casp [...]a, and brake his Launce so brauely on him, as himselfe forsooke both his stir­rops: but the king of Caspia had such a forcible stroake, as hee was sent headlong to the Earth, very sore wounded. Palme­rin of England serued the king of Aetolia in the same manner, albeit he was reputed amongst the Turkes for an especiall good Knight at Armes. Florendos and the king of Armenia fay­led in the Ioust, but they met so forceably togither with theyr bodyes, as both they and their Horses tumbled to the ground: the Prince Florendos recouered himselfe againe quickly, but the Turke was so amazed with his fall, as hee could hardly tell [Page] where he was, whereupon his two Couzins came vnto him, and conducted him betweene them to his Tent. Berolde of Spaine, and Floraman of Sardignia, addressed themselues to the Prince Argelao and the king of Bithinia, and encountred with them so furiously, as they were all cast forth of their saddles, being not able to mount themselues againe, because the num­ber was so great, & the fight so h [...]te where they were. Recinde and Arnedes ranne against the Kings of Gamba and Sparta, they being all vnhorsed, except the king Recinde, who kept his horse valiantly. The Soldane Bellagris and the King of Trebisonde mette together, and brake their Launces verie brauely, not béeing any thing shaken in the encoun­ter.

The Soldane of Persia, who desired to haue himselfe séene in the field, had no sooner espied the knight of the Sauadgeman, but he gaue his horse the spurres, and encountred with him so nobly, as the knight of the Sauadgeman lost both his stirrops, which he recouered againe presently: but the Soldane was so sore shaken, as he lay along on the necke of his horse, and had tumbled to the ground, if one of his traine had not immediat­ly succoured him.

Among them that dealt in the first encounter, Dramusi­ande and Framustant was most to be regarded, for they fay­ling at the breaking of their Launces, met in such couragious manner together with their bodies, as both horses and men were sent to the ground: and recouering themselues nimbly againe, they beganne a furious and cruell combate, and to the example of all other knights, charged one another with most puissant stroakes.

All the Princes of the Emperours Court were at this first encounter, except King Edward, the Emperour Vernar, and the king Polendos, who would not depart from their Squa­drons, fearing least they would disparse themselues out of order: and the Giant Almaroll kept them company like­wise, because he saw no more Giants in the foremost rancke but Framustant, with whome Dramusiande fought very gallantly.

[Page] After thyy had thus encountred with their launces, and ma­ny knights throwne to the earth, some slaine outright, and o­ther some in little better case: they drew their swords on all sides, and began the most cruell Battaile that euer was séene, and the Captaines returned againe to their seuerall charges, because they would not haue them fall out of order. Argelao, and the King of Bithinia, fighting on foote against Floraman of Sardignia, and Berolde of Spaine, were succoured by the Sol­dane of Persia, who like a noble captaine praunced among the ranckes, to animate and encourage the mindes of his friends, and assembling them in sundrie companies, hee came where these foure continued the fight still fiercely: but the Soldane, Bellagris with his traine, shewed such prowesse on the fresh commers, as with in a while, both the Soldane of Persia him­selfe, and the companie he brought with him were enforced to giue them place against their willes, leauing Argelao and the king of Bithinia in such danger, as had not the king of Trebi­sonde come vpon them with the second Turkish Squadrō, they had béene slaine by the hands of Floraman, and the Prince Be­rolde. The Soldane of Persia was so greatly gréeued, séeing his men so vanquished, and they that were left so out of heart, as he cried for succour to the king of Trebisonde: with whose aide he returned to recouer what he had lost, and at length made the meanes to get Argelao and the king of Bithinia thorow the preasse.

But he that had thē séene the prince Primaleon, might plain­ly haue discerned his willing [...]es to preuails against his ene­mies: for he laide on loade so on euerie side, and following vpon thē with his traine so nobly, as not one durst stand before him to endure his fury: by this meanes he recouered horses againe to Floraman and Berolde, but they were so wounded, as they were glad to get forth of the battell. Primaleon, Palmerin of England, and Florian of the Forrest with their traynes, helde the king of Trebisondes second Squadron so h [...]te play, as they wished themselues a little furder off. But on the left hand of this Squadron was the most daungerous battaile, betwéene Framustant and Dramusiande, who had gotten great aduan­tage [Page] of his enemies, by reason that Framustantes sword was broken to his hand, but Albayzar sent two hundred Knights on foote to helpe the Giant, which when Primaleon perceiued, he spake to Palmerin of England in this manner: I pray you Sir, goe with me to succour our friend Dramasiande, for I will neuer returne into the Cittie, except I haue him with mée. Without any more words they layd about them lustily, and knockt downe euery one that stood before them, vntill they came where Dramusiande was: thither likewise came to de­fend him against his enemies, the Knight of the Sauageman, Florendos, Platir, Polinard, Pompides, the Sage Aliart, Ma­iortes, Frisoll, Blandidon, Don Rosiran de la Bronde, Belcar, and his sonnes, being likewise accompanied with twentie of the most renowmed Knights in all the Armie: and to aide Fra­mustant came the Soldan of Persia, and the king of Trebisond, accompanied with a hundred knights of great authoritie and valour, they being all on foote.

When Primaleon saw his friends without their horses he alighted likewise, and so did the Prince Palmerin: but when the other Christian knights heard that Primaleon fought on foote, they forsooke their horses, and came hastily running to defend him, and now beganne such a cruell and fierce battell, as on all sides it remained very doubtfull and dangerous, Dramusiande and Framustant so layde vpon each other with their pommils of their swords, as they were at length so sore trauailed, as their stroakes could but little hurt them. Primaleon and the king of Trebisonde buckled together, but such was the fierce­nesse of their fight, as in the end they were constrained to pause a while: the like happened to Palmerin of England and the Soldane of Persia: but the Knight of the Sauage man slew two Knights, who came traiterously and strooke him behinde his back, and Florendos with the rest of his companions stuck so closely to their tackling, as many of the enemies ranne like dogges away.

But Maiortes was so compassed in with his enemies, as none of his friends might come to helpe him, so that he had such gréeuous wounds giuen him, as (hauing slaine so many [Page] of his enimies as durst abide him) hée fell downe dead to the ground himselfe.

Florian of the Forrest, was so grieued when he saw him fall, as the teares trickled downe his cheeks, and albeit he was in extreame heauinesse, yet he followed on them that had kilde Maiortes, and reuenged his death nobly, because the death of so braue a noble man, was much lamented of them that knew his valiaunt minde, but most especiallie of his Sonne Dridan, who with anguish of mind cast himselfe amongst his enemies, and within a while he behaued himselfe so well, as the Turkes knew to their cost his extreame griefe for the death of his Fa­ther: yet such was his vnhappie fortune in the end, as (being beset among the thickest of his enimies, & many cruell wounds giuen in diuerse places of his body) he fell to the ground, his vi­tall spirite forsaking him, and made him follow his Fathers dead ghost, which was no small griefe to the noble king Ed­ward of England, in respect of the great friend shippe and loue, that had remayned of long time, betwéene him and Maior­tes.

And because he iudged, that fighting thus on foote would be the death of many his deere friendes, he commaunded his hard horses to breake through the ranckes, whereto they presentlie obeyed, and scattered the troupes of the enemies in such sort, as all his friendes were mounte [...] on horsebacke againe, and Dramusiande and Framustant were separated a sunder, but at this second encounter, the king of Trebisonde was slaine by the hand of the noble Palmerin of England. Dramusiand and Framustant were so daungerously wounded, as they were not able to hold out the fight any longer: wherefore, they were conueied thence, the one to the Turkes Tentes, and the other to the Cittie to be tendered with present regard, according as their dangerous estates required. When the conflict was thus broken, diuers that had entred with the first squadron, retired to take breathing: but Primaleon, Palmerin, nor many of the Emperors Court beside, were any of them, for it was a plea­sure to them to endure the trauaile of Armes, such small ac­count they made of their hurts and their enemies.

[Page] The Empresse and the Ladies séeing so great cruelty, and the losse of so many noble Gentlemen, withdrew themselues in­to their chambers, where they lamented in such gréeuous ma­ner, as if they had seene the enimie entred into the Citie, wher­vpon, many Ladies of great authorite (hearing their pittifull lamentatiōs) came vnto the Pallace, reposing altogither their hope in the aged Emperor, if the knightes in the Field should fayle of the victorie.

The king Tarnaes would haue denied the Ladies entraunce into the Pallace, but it was more then he could well doo: for hardlie can any man gouerne the common people, especiallie, when a generall feare of their liues is threatned before their eyes.

The Emperour himself, whose debilitie in yéeres and griefe of minde (conceyued by this vnlooked for stratageme) depriued him of his woonted good iudgement, and pollitique meanes to preuent so great mischéefe, as he could not imagine with him­selfe how to remedie this suddaine misfortune: but euen with a Womans stomacke, rather then the inuincible minde he had alwayes borne héeretofore, fel into pusillanimitie and doubtful feare with himselfe, vtterlie forgetting the auncient Adage: Audaces Fortuna iuuat; and Targiana, the Princesse of Arme­nia and all the Ladies in the Turkes Campe, were so fearefull and doubtfull of the victorie, as the Ladies in the Emperours Court.

King Edward being Generall of the Christian Armie, desi­ring to witnesse his noble valour in the fielde (hauing rested himselfe a pretie space) dismounted thrée knights one after an­other with one Launce: afterward drawing his sworde, he charged the enimes on all sides about him so valiauntlie, as they were glad to auoide and giue him place. And the Prince Albayzar likewise, séeking to honour himselfe this day with the renowme of the field, came vppon the Christians with in­credible prowesse: and such resistaunce he made with his fresh company, as the Battaile endured a long time very blody and cruell, so that a man could not iudge which side had the most aduantage.

[Page] But then came a newe assault vpon the Christians, by a great number of Turkes on the left wing, among whome were sixe monstrous and terrible Giants, which Assault was so hote for the time, as the Christians were enforced to retyre. The Giant Almaroll (who had all this while kept companie with the King Recinde his Lorde (séeing the Christians withdrawe themselues, addressed himselfe to one of the Giants called Dra­morant, and with a mighty Mace that hee had gotten in the Battell, hee kept him such rough playe, as he could not passe on forwards, as he willinglie would haue done. And the King Re­cinde, séeing another Giant named Trafamor, cōming to strike at Almaroll behinde his backe, stepped before him to hinder his determination: but hée being Aged and feeble, and not able to resist the mercilesse stroaks of this bloody-minded Giant Trafa­mor, was so pittifully wounded, as he fell downe at the Giants féete, who tooke his sword, and thrust it to the heart of the King Recinde.

Which when the Prince Palmerin perceyued, hée was very ry sorrie, and comming in a rage to the Giant Trafamor, neuer left him, vntill such time as hee had layde him downe dead on the ground: but he was so sore but himselfe▪ as he was glad to get foorth of the Battell, and by the commandement of the Prince Primaleon, [...]hee was carryed into the Cittie, where they made great doubt of his life, by reason he had lost such aboundance of his Blood.

Almaroll and Dramorant were sundred, whervpon the death of Recinde K: of Spayne, was blazed through the Army, which was such heauy newes to Arnedes King of France, his Couzin and singular good Friend, as making no account of his life) hee threw himself amongst his enemies: where (séeking to reuenge the death of the King of Spayne) hee lost his owne life, and by him was slaine Onistalde, Sonne to the king Recinde, who fol­lowed Arnedes, to reuenge his Fathers death.

King Edward and the other Princes, were so offended, when they sawe theyr déerest Friendes thus cast to the ground, as they ranne amongst the thickest of their Enemyes, and layd on loade like desperate men: the Knight of the Sauadge-man [Page] likewise, on whose shield no manner of Deuise could be discer­ned, it was so hackt and broken in pieces: came vnto the Gi­ant Dramorant, and handled him in such Knightly order, as he made him tumble downe dead before him.

Belcar and the King Polendos, entring on the king of Aeto­liaes Troupe, were in the ende enforced to paye the sharpe tri­bute, which Death demaundeth of Nature by dutie: this vnfor­tunate successe caused no little heauines among the Christians, but in especilly to the Prince Berolde of Spayne, who vnder­standing that the King Recinde his Father, and Onistalde his Brother, were slaine by the enimies, he rushed in fiercely vppon them, determining eyther to reuenge theyr losse, or leaue his life among them for company.

And the Prince Floraman of Sardignia followed close after him, butchering the Turkes on euery side, whereby hee mani­fested to the Prince Berolde, the entyre good will and affection he bare him: but the valiaunt Florendos did most of all iniury the Enemie this day, for the Knightly stroakes that were to bee séene on his Shield, deliuered a true testimony of the great dan­gers he had escaped: all which he made of no account, such was his earnest desire to reuenge the death of his déere Friends. So that this Battell may be reputed for the moste cruell and peril­lous that euer was séene, in that so many grieuous and tragicall Spectacles were to be séene that dismall Day, with the losse of a number of famous Princes and most renowmed Knightes: for there you might haue séene Don Rosuell and Bellizart to breake hardily through the preasse of theyr Enemyes, without eyther feare or regarde of theyr owne liues, to looke for theyr no­ble Father the Prince Belcar: and Francian on the other side, came to searche for his Father, the King Polendos: which the Enemies perceyuing, and knowing them to be néere allyed to the Emperor, followed fiercely after them, to sée who could first murther them.

The Prince Berolde was no sooner come to the place, where his Father lay slayne, but hee sawe how the Giant Almaroll had lost his Helmet, and his face so pittifully besmiered with his blood, as it was a great griefe to all that behelde him, for hee had [Page] in that place laid seuen hardy Knights slaine at his foot, and de­termined not to forsake the dead body of the Prince, before he had lost his owne life likewise in that place.

The enemies resisted the Prince Berolde so strongly, as had it not béene for the succour of the Emperor Vernar Prima­leon, Florendos and Blandidon, he had béene sent to kéepe his father company: and Primaleon laboured very earnestly to get the Giant Almaroll foorth of the battaile, because he was destri­tute of a Helmet, his Armour broken very much, and his body wounded in many places, but such was the loue and fidelitie he bare to his Prince, as it was impossible for Primaleon to cause him withdraw himselfe.

Vpon this reskew of the Princes to Berolde, the enemies came running amaine to this place where they were, with the Soldane of Persia conducting them, who hearing how Al­maroll continued manfully killing all that came before him, galloped thorow the rancke till he came at Almaroll: but who so had seene the gallant behauiour of Primaleon and Florendos his Sonne, in defending Almaroll from the enemies fury, would haue imagined the very type of Knightly valour to consist in these two famous champions, who were not a little grieued to sée Almaroll so willing to séeke his owne death, and could not bee perswaded from that minde by any of his friends.

The Giant Gramato (who came in company with the Sol­dane of Persia) aduanced himselfe to deale with Almaroll, but the hardy Florendos stepped before him, and had slaine him outright, if Almaroll had not caught him about the body: but he being so grieuously wounded, as no succour whatsoeuer would saue his life, fell down dead before the Giant Gramato, whom Berolde afterward charged so roughly, as Gramato ended his life to accompany the Giant Almaroll.

Now began the courage of the Christians to encrease wor­thily, in that they were stronger in that place then the Turkes, for the Soldane of Persia was conueyed foorth of the Battaile, by reason of a wound that he had receiued in his throate by the [Page] push of a Sword: so that the Soldane Bellagris found good op­portunitie, to carry the bodies of the King Recinde and Oni­stalde his sonne forth of the field, the Prince Berolde helping to conduct the bodies, because himselfe had lost so much blood, as he could scantly hold out any longer.

Primaleon hauing a regard to the troupes of men dispersed in the Field, beheld King Edward and his traine driuen to the retire, for that Albayzar accompanied with thrée Giants and a number of knights (séeing the Christians fore trauailed) came vpon them with a fresh charge: but king Edward met his proud enemie with such puissance, as he was glad to draw backe to rest himselfe a while, assuring you, that the King of England behaued himselfe so nobly in the field, as the whole Christian campe reposed themselues on him.

Pompides, Basiliart, the Sage Aliart, Platir, Frisol, Germain of Orlnance, Luyman of Burgundie, Rodamont, Albanis of Frize, Dragonalt, Don Rosiran de la Bronde, Tremoran, Te­nebrant, Don Rosuell, Bellizart, and diuers other of the Chri­stian Knights resisted the enemy verie valiantly, and followed so fast vpon Albayzar and his company, as (had not fresh sup­plies still come) they had made a notable conquest of their ad­uersaries.

Primaleon left to gouerne these the Soldane Bellagris, and Blandidon went with Florendos and Floraman to the noble King Edward of England, and as they would haue approched to him, they espyed the Emperour Vernar, and Polinard his Brother on foote, enclosed with such a number of Turkes, as their liues were greatly to be feared: for the King of Bythinia had slaine the Emperour Vernars Horse, and fal­ling to the ground, brake one of his Maisters legges in the fall, so that the Emperour was faine to stand vppon one legge to defend himselfe, in which hard case hee was verie neare his death, but that his Brother Polinard stept present­ly before him, and defended him with such manly prowesse, as the enemy could not any way come to hurt the Empe­rour. [Page] Primaleon séeing the misfortune of the Emperour of Alle­maigne, and how the Turkes sought euery way to take his life from him, was so ouercome with inward griefe, as the teares trickled downe his chéekes: and fearing now the vtter ruine of Constantinople, he ran with such courage vpon the enemies, as downe they tumbled dead to the groūd on euery side of him. And Florendos, thought his Armour was shiuered, and he had no shéeld to defend himselfe, yet (accompanied with the Prince Floraman) he folowed his father, shewing incredible prowesse. Floraman setled himselfe against the king of Bithinia, and pre­uailed so well against him, as he sent him headlong to the groūd depriued of his life: but Primaleon séeing Floraman to bee somewhat sore hurt, desired him to withdrawe himselfe out of the Battell.

When the Turkes that were conducted by the king of Bythi­nia, sawe theyr Captain slaine, they beganne to retire very spee­dily, by which meanes Primaleon recouered and mounted Po­linard on Horsebacke againe: but hee could not imagine howe to got the Emperour Vernar out of the field: which made him aduenture with his men in such daunger, as it was doubtfull he should haue fallen into his enemies hands. For the king of Ar­menia came vppon them againe with foure thousand men, ho­ping to recouer that which the other Kings had lost, so that Pri­maleon was faine to alight from his Horse, for the defence of the Emperour Vernar: in like manner did most of the Prin­ces and Knights, fearing least any harme should come vnto the Prince and the Emperour, but many of them were slaiue in this newe assault, and so was the king of Armenia, with fiue hundred of his best tryed Soldyers.

The Emperour Vernar, séeing Death ready to entertaine him, and that there was no meanes for him to shun it, embra­ced it mildely and patiently: but when the young Princes saw the Emperour slaine, they carryed him foorth of the Fielde, and brought him with great heauinesse into the Cittie, which was now become in a manner desolate.

The most vertuous and valiant King Edward, séeing him­selfe left alone with the Soldane Albayzar, whome hee dealt so [Page] stoutly withall, as Pompides, Platir, and the other Princes might rest themselues, and cause their Friends that were there slaine, to be transported thence, in the ende hee brought Albay­zar into such estate, as he had kilde him in the Fielde, if hee had not bene the sooner reskued by the Giants that came with him: Neuerthelesse, hee taught him his dutie so well, as hée tooke the English Prince for a very sharpe Schoolemaister.

While King Edward and Albayzar continued theyr Fight, the night drawing on apace, the Trumpets sounded the retrait, so that euery one hasted vnto his Ensigne: the King Edward summoned his men together, they all thinking so well on theyr Generall, as they iudged themselues happy to be vnder his lea­ding and gouernment. Bellagris and Primaleon brought their traines likewise to him, and after they were all places in array, the Christians betooke themselues to the Cittie, and the Turkes returend to theyr Campe.

CHAP. LXIII.
¶Of that which they did at Constantinople, before they gaue the Enemies the second Battell, and of the great mis­fortunes which hapned in the Citty, amongst which, chan­ced the vntimely death of the aged Emperour Palmerin.

AFter that the Christian and Pagan Prin­ces, with theyr forces on eyther side, were thus retyred to theyr seuerall holds, by the consent of Albayzar & Palmerin, the Prin­ces and Knights that were slaine in the bat­tell, were carryed thence to be interred, and theyr funeralls to be performed: but for the grieuous complaints made in the Cittie, for the losse of so ma­ny [Page] noble and renowned Princes, I leaue them to the iudge­ment of the courteous Reader, who must néedes thinke the griefe to be great, in that Christendome receiued such a losse, as in many yéeres could not be recoured againe. The consi­deration here of entred so déepe into the aged Emperours heart, as he forsooke this earthly vale of misery, yéelding his soule to God, and his body to the bowelles of his mother, from whence it came at first: at which time, the enchaunted bird that he kept in his pallace, sung thrée times together with a very pittifull note, so that both olde and young in the Court, did not alittle maruaile thereat.

Of this birde, you may reade more at large in the notable and famous History of the Emperour Palmerins life, which Booke is called Palmerin d'Oliue, a History plentifully stored with discourses of singular delight, being for the worthinesse thereof, estéemed of many Nations, as this History is like­wise: and therefore, for the excellency of this aforesaide Hi­story, and in respect it dependeth on matters briefely touched in this booke, so that it is accounted as a parcell of this History, I entend (God ayding me, to publish it shortly, when (I doubt not) but the Gentle reader shall finde it worthy of the commen­dations that I haue vsed of it in this place. The Obsequies and Funeralles of the Emperour were solemnized with great pompe and dignitie: in like manner did they honour the Em­perour of Allemainge, and the other Kings that were slaine in the battaile.

Not many dayes after, the wounded Princes found them­selues in good disposition againe, weerevpon they determined to enter the field, because the enemies demaunded the battaile: but first of all they prouided for the safegard of the City, which was committed to the charge of the King Tarnaes of Lacede­monia: and the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley, they hauing their conduct fiue hundred Knights on horsebacke, and foure thousand able footemen, and for the rest of the Christians they were deuided into sixe seuerall Bands. The first was conducted by the Pr [...]nce Primaleon, who had atiending on him two thousand and fiue hundred Knights. The second Band, [Page] being of the same number, was committed to the Prince Flo­raman of Sardignia. The third, to the king Estrellant. The fourth, to Albanis of Frieze. The fifth, to Drapos Duke of Normandie: all these fiue hands being like in number. The sixt was vnder the charge of the noble king Edward, to whom came all the rest of the Christian souldiers. The Soldane Bel­lagris with his traine, had the charge of the vtter wings, to giue ayde where he saw néede required.

When these Knights departed from the citie toward the field, they were all in blacke Armour, and their shields of the same colour without any deuices, their horses were likewise trapped in blacke, and the more to expresse their inward heaui­nesse, they would haue neither Drumme, Trumpet, nor any kind of instrument vsed in warre with them. Neuerthelesse, albeit this sad procéeding to the battaile, declared their owne heaninesse, yet was it likewise a feare and terror to the enemy, séeing them comming farre from them: and euery man had clo­sed the Beuer of his helmet, because the enemy should not per­ceiue their mournfull countenances.

When they were come to the place where the Battaile should be fought, they spread themselues abread in the field, af­ter the deuice of their Captaines, without making any maner of noyse at all. The footemen came after, being all attired in black likewise, and without either Drums, Phifes, or Trum­pets, wherby they gaue the enemies to vnderstand, what vn­fained loue and affection they bare to their Emperour, and how they could not forget what gracious and friendly entertaine­ment, he was woont to make to his very enemies.

A thing which all Princes ought to haue in regard, and in remembring the great vertue of this famous Emperour, to gouerne their Kingdomes in such sort, as the people may ra­ther know what a gréeuous losse they haue by the death of such a Prince, then to behaue themselues in such manner, as their Subiects shall reioyce to be rid of their Gouernour. The Turks were greatly abashed, séeing their enemies come mar­ching in this order, they knew well by their mourning habits, that they would in this battell make no account of their liues.

[Page] But Albayzar séeing the astonishment of his Souldiers, came to encourage them like a noble captaine, laying before them the renowme of the victorie, which should be the recom­pence of all their trauailes, and a sufficient reuenge for the death of many of their parents and friendes, who lost their liues before the walles of Constantinople, for which cause this warre was first enterprised.

When he had a good space vsed these and such like spéeches to them, they began to waxe desirous of the battaile, and cha­sing all their formerfeare out of remembrance, they marched on after the same manner as they did in the first battaile, sa­uing that they were vnder the charge of other captaines, for that they which conducted them before were slaine. Their Ar­mour was very much broken and bruised, and so died with the blood that issued from their bodies, that it was almost as strange a sight in the field, as the Christians sad and mourne­full habites of blacke.

King Edward séeing his men placed in decent order, and the backwings in such regard as hée thought méetest, hée gaue charge to Primaleon to giue the consent with his company, for he had with him the noble Palmerin of England, Florian of the Forrest, Florendos, Platir, Pompides, Blandidon, Don Rosu­el, Bellizart, Dragonalt, King of Nauarre, the Giant Dramu­siand, and the most renowmed princes of the Court.

On the enemies side, the King of Aetolia was first in the field, because he conducted the formost troupe, wherein was the most puissant knights in all the Turkish Armie, beside the Giant Framustant, who desired aboue all other things to pre­uaile against Dramusiande. The Christians finding them­selues in a readinesse, the Turkes sounded their Drummes and Trumpets to beginne the Battaile: but sodainely came on them so great a tempest, as they returned backe againe, being not able to ioyne in fight for the space of two houres af­ter.

In the meane time as this tempest continueth, let vs re­turne to the Citie of Constantinople, which (as you haue heard before (was committed to the chargs of Tarnaes king of Lace­demonia, [Page] and the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley, who fin­ding by his Art that the Cittie of Constantinople would bee brought to destruction, and that king Edward of England, and the Prince Primaleon, with the rest of the Princes & Knights that maintained the warre, would stand in great hazard of loo­sing their liues, being not able to auoyd the cruelty of the Turks who would get the Cittie into their possession: vpon these a­foresaid considerations he determined to prouide for the safe­ty of the Princesses and Ladies of high authority, who were (most of them) great with childe, and neare the [...]ime of their deliuerance. Wherefore, that the fruit of their bodyes might not perish in this extremity, he raised a very darke and obscure cloude, which shadowed the light of the firmament in such sort, as not onely they in the field were couered therewith, but also the Cittie was so wrapt in the cloud, as it was not possible for them to discerne it.

In the meane while, both the Armies remained in great a­mazement by this darkenesse, as they had not the power to méete together, Aliart conueyed through this da [...]ke Cloud, the Empresse, the Princesse Polinarda, and all other Princesses and Ladyes beside, to the Perillous Isle, which the Prince Pal­merin of England had bestowed on him: and he shaddowed the Isle likewise (by his Enchantment) in such manner, that it re­mained (as it were) inuisible, vntill Aliart conceiued so well of the time and reason, as he thought good to discouer it. These Ladies were surprised with maruellous admiration, wh [...]n they found themselues not in Constantinople, but in a strange land, where they could not haue their company, who had endu­red so many hard and dangerous conflicts for their sakes, this (aboue all other causes) did most offend and trouble their con­sciences: yet at length, when they saw no other remedy, they were glad to practise and content themselues with often visiting each other in their Chambers, to expell all other cogitations that séeme irksome vnto them.

Thus wil we leaue the Empresse and her ladies in the Peril­lous Isle, and returne to the King Tarnaes at Constantinople, who (after the cloude was vanished away, and the day cleare [Page] againe) séeing that the Empresse with her Ladies, and the Sage Aliart had forsaken his Companie, conceyued such extreame griefe within himselfe (doubting least some mischaunce had be­fallen them (as amidde his pittifull Lamentations hée yéelded vp the Ghost: leauing the Cittie so comfortlesse and dispayring within themselues, as they desired to finish their liues, forsa­king quite all hope in them that were in the Fielde, to whome happened what Fortune had ordained, as you may read in the Chapter following.

CHAP. LXV.
¶Of the second Battell betweene the Christians and the Turkes, and what happened therein.

THe darke cloud being gone out of fight, and the Sage Aliart hauing brought the Em­presse and her Ladies to the Perillous Isle, the day began to waxe cléere againe, and the Armie marched forward to méete together. But as they were about to enter the skyr­mish, they heard a most lamentable and pit­tifull outcrye, which made them staye their hands, and looking about to sée the cause of this noyse, they saw a great many of Ladyes and Damosells come foorth of the Cit­tie, with their haire dispersed abroade ouer theyr shoulders, and wringing their handes in very grieuous manner. And for that they had lost the King Tarnaes, and the Sage Aliart, whom they knew were left for their succour and Defence: they came into the Christian Campe, to their Husbands, Brethren, Sonnes, and Kinsmen: For séeing they could promise themselues no assurance in the Cittie, they would liue and die with them in the Fielde.

[Page] King Edward and Primaleon were so amazed at the clamor of these Women, as they caused theyr Ensignes to stay, and commanded the Horsemen not to breake theyr Array, till they had vnderstood the cause of this disorder: but when it was told them, how that the King Tarnaes and the Sage Aliart had for­saken the Cittie, they were both driuen into a great admyrati­on with themselues, whereupon they sent Pompides, and Pla­tir into the Cittie, to bring them certaine tydings of this vnloo­ked for mischaunce.

When these two Knightes were come into the Cittie, and heard after what manner the King Tarnaes dyed, as also howe the Sage Aliart was gone no man could tell whether: they be­ganne to thinke within themselues, that both they and all theyr Traine were brought to such extremitie, as Fortune had conclu­ded to finish the memorie of theyr Knightly déedes, by deliue­ring theyr liued to the swords of theyr enemies. They did like­wise perswade themselues, that the Sage Aliart absented him­selfe for no other occasion, but onely because he perceyued theyr generall destruction was at hand: & in this respect, they iudged hée had prouided some refuge for the Empresse and the Ladies, that their Enemies might not triumph in theyr misfortunes, to the great discontentment of theyr Lordes and Husbandes. With these heauy Newes they returned to their Camp againe, certifying King Edward, and Primaleon, how the Sage Aliart was departed: Whervpon they concluded by generall determi­nation, to withdraw themselues into the Cittie, to make proui­sion for the Defence thereof, before they would enter the Bat­tell with their Enemies.

But I assure you, it was a pittifull sight to behold, how the Men, Women, and Children, came and fell down at the Prin­ces féete: yea, the Ancient Citizens, with their gray heads, and white beards, being so weake and féeble with Age, as they were glad to support themselues with their staues: they all made their humble requests, that they might rather enter the Battell, and thereto end their liues, then to be destroyed at home with their Wiues and Children by the enemie.

[Page] King Edward, Primaleon, and all other Princes were not a little abashed, finding the Pallace in such a desolate manner, neyther the Empresse, the Princesses, nor any of the other La­dyes to be founde, this vexed their mindes with vnexpressable griefe. They went into theyr accustomed Chambers, and not finding them there to whome they were most affectionate, their very soules were ready to forsake theyr bodyes: for the young Princes, enioying theyr swéet Ladyes so short a time, for whose sakes they had suffered so many bitter brunts, they thought themselues not able to liue any long time, being depriued of their company, whom they honored with most pure and vnfai­ned affection. For now their paines were greater then euer they had béene before, and this mishap was more irkesome to them then all the dangers past, because their Ladies were the rewardes of their knightly victories: but hauing thus lost them on such a sodaine, they were out of hope to enioy the sight of them any more, wherefore they séemed as men depriued of their sences, looking gastly and fearefully one vpon an other, know­ing not which way to comfort or redr [...]sse their present heaui­nesse.

In this case the Christian Princes remained for the space of thrée daies, hauing no minde at all to giue their enemies bat­taile, during which time, Primaleon maide conueiance of the aged men, with their wiues and children in the night time, to diuers of his Castles and Fortresses néere adioyning, know­ing them farre vnable to helpe in this extremitie, and then he caused the wals of the Cittie to be beaten flat to the ground, which was thought good by the aduice of euery one to bee so done, and that for two especiall causes. The first, that it would more animate and imbolden the Christians in the time of bat­taile, séeing themselues dispoyled of the place, wherein they reposed their assurance of safety. The other, that the enemies should not vaunt how they had destroyed the City, but that it was defaced by the Christians themselues, if so be Fortune suffered them to enioy the victorie.

They of the citie séeing the walles so spoyled, euen to the [Page] very first foundation there [...]f, conceiued such hatred against the Turkes (whome they reputed to cause the subuersion of their strongest defence) as they prepared themselues altogether to enter the Field, to reuenge themselues on their proud and v­surping enemies: and so they marched all with the Princes into the Field, who went in the same manner as they did be­fore, when Aliart conueied the Empresse and her Ladies from Constantinople to the Perillous Isle.

Albayzar knowing well the intent of his enemies, cōman­ded his Captaines to place their men in aray, afterward, the Trumpets summoning them brauely to the Battaile, he com­manded the king of Aetolia to giue the onset with his Band to the enemy: whereto the king presently obeyed, and comming on gallantly with his troupe of men, the Prince Primaleon pre­pared himselfe to receiue him, and giuing his horse the spurres, he preuailed so fortunately in the encounter, as he made the King of Aetolia measure his length on the ground, but hee was quickly succoured by his men, otherwise Primaleon had giuen him his deaths wounde. Palmerin of England ran against the Prince Argelao, and met him with such puissance, as his Launce pierced cleane thorowe his body, so that he fell to the ground starke dead: the like did the Knight of the Sauage man to a valiant Knight named Richard, who was estéemed a singular Captaine amongst the Turkes: the Prince Florendos, Platir, Gracian, Berolde, and the other knights, slew them out­right likewise that encountred them in the Ioust. Dramusi­ande and Framustant brake their Launces, but yet they kept their horses valiantly: whereupon, they drew their swordes, and began to charge each other very furiously. The Christians behaued themselues so worthily at this first encounter, as the King of Aetolia (whose traine were twise so many in number, as they with the Prince Primaleon) was glad to retyre, being not able to endure the hardy stroakes of the Princes, Palme­rin, Florian & Florendos: but they were faine to betake them­selues for refuge to the second squadron, which was conducted by the King of Caspia, who came brauely vpon Primaleon and his company, yet not able to enforce thē to retyre one foote back [Page] from them, for Palmerin and the other princes maintained the sight so sharply against them, as they were once more cōpelled to recoyle backeward: Which the Soldane of Persia perceiuing he came to assist them with his company, when in sooth he had made a great slaughter of the wearied Christians, if it had not béene for the Prince Floraman: who séeing the Soldane of Per­sia come so fast forward with his Squadron, he rushed in vpon them with his Band of men, and resisted them in very gallant manner. Palmerin bare great malice to the Soldane of Persia, because he was so amorous of y Princesse Polinarda his wife, wherefore he ran fiercely against him, and brake his Launce so brauely on him, as the Soldane tumbled headlong backward out of his Saddle: but the Turkes laboured earnestly to mount the king againe, and Primaleon went to ayde the Prince Flo­raman, who was likewise cast beside his horse.

Thus were they helping one another of them néerest at hand, so that they had forgotten Dramusiande and Framustant, who hauing forsaken their horses, fought so long together & in such cruell manner, as their bodies were wounded in many places, but Dramusiande was like to sustaine the worst, in that Fra­mustant was assisted against him by another Knight, named Grantor: and Dramusiande had beene slaine betwéene them, if it had not beene for the Prince Florian his déere friend, who came and buckled with Grantor in such sort, as he laide him dead at his foote immediatly.

When the Turkes beheld that Grantor was slaine, they en­uironed the Prince Florian and Dramusiande so terrible on euerie side, as their lines were brought, into some daunger: but the king Estrellant of Hungaria (who had the charge of the third Christian Squa [...]ron) entred vpon the Tu [...]es, and droue them backe perforce, till they saw their friendes brought in­to safetie againe, and Framustant was very néere discharged of his life, but the Soldane Albayzar seeing his daunger, com­maunded them altogether to runne on the Christians, the like did King Edward to his men, because they should helpe their fellowes in their necessitie. Florian seeing Albayzar com­ming with his Launce charged in his rest, gaue his horse the [Page] spurres to méete him, & these two worthy knights encountred together so nobly, as Albayzar was glad to catch holde about the necke of his horse to shun the fall: but the Prince Florians horse was so starke with trauaile, as he fell to the ground vn­der his Maister, who leapt out of the Saddle quickly, so that he sustained no harme by the fall. Albayzar laboured very ear­nestly, to get Dramusiande and the Prince Florian within the rankes of his men, because hee sawe how cruelly they hacked and hewed the Turkes, that he thought himselfe happiest who could auoid their presence, but yet such a company of men had Albayzar hemd them in withall, as the losse of their liues were now determined, if the Soldan Bellagris & Polinarda had not arriued there with expedition, for they walking vp and downe with their Bandes of men, to giue aide where they perceiued necessitie required, saw the dangerous estates of Dramusiande and Florian, and thrusting in vpon the Turkes with great puis­sance, they reskewed Dramusiande, and brought him foorth of the Armie to rest himselfe a while, and they mounted Florian on horsebacke againe, notwithstanding all the practises of the enemy to the contrary, but they were glad to conuey Framu­stant foorth of the Battaile likewise, for they sawe him so sore trauailed, as he was scant able to stand on his feete.

After that these two Giants were out of the Field, the grea­test hurley burly was by the prince Psimaleon, because Palme­rin of England and the Soldane of Persia, (they being on foote) fought maruellous fiercely togither, the like did Polinard with a stout Turke named Ferrebrocque, which caused the men on all sides to hasten to this conflict. The King of Aetolia accom­panied with fiue hundred knights on foote, came to reskew the Soldan of Persia, but Berolde of Spaine, remembring the death of the King Recinde his Father, ioyned in fight with the King of Aetolia, King Edward came thither with his troupe of men to assist his friends, and so did Albayzar on the behalfe of the Soldane of Persia, he bringing with him many Knights, beside foure stoute and cruel Giants, whose presence did much terrifie the Christians, so that many of them durst not enter the fight with such Monsters.

[Page] Yet could not all these knights and Giants dismay the noble Palmerin of Englād, but he continued in fight so brauely with the Soldane of Persia, as he would not leaue him, till he saw him slaine at hia foote: for whose death tha Turkes lamented very much, in that he was the principall captaine vnder the Prince Albayzar, who likewise tooke the Soldanes death so heauily, as he came with his men vpon the Christians like a mad man. The victorie of the Prince Palmerin against the Soldane, was but little comfort to him, in that he saw ye prince Polinard (who fought still against Ferrebrocque) fall downe dead to the ground, & Ferrebrocque with diuers other Turkes fall downe slaine on each side of him likewise: but the death of Polinard was very gréeuous to his friends and companions, in that the Emperor Vernar his brother was kilde in the first bat­tail, and the Empresse Bazilia (seeing her lord and husband gon) reposed al her hope and comfort on the prince Polinard. Flo­rendos, whose griefe could not be expressed for the death of his friend Polinard, because they had bene nourished al their youth together, in the Emperors court) to reuenge the death of her déere friend and companion, he ran fiercely amongst the thickest of his enemies, and the first he met withal was the giant Pan­dolfo, who holding a mightie mace in his hand, aduanced him­selfe to receiue the prince Florendos. Then began a fierce and terrible combat betwéene them, so that within a whyle, the giant Pandolfo railed and exclaimed against his gods hor­ribly, finding himselfe not able to resist the force of one knight, he being woont to vanquish euery one that entred fight with him: but Florendos not regarding his railling words, brought him into such féeble estate, as at length he fell downe on his knées, when Florendos taking off his Helmet, strooke [...] of his head from his shoulders. Berolde of Spaine lekewise slew the king of Aetolia, which when Albayzar perceiued, hee came running on Berolde, and twentie knights with him, so that they had murdred the Spanish prince amongst them, but the Soldane Bellagris hindered their determination: for he came with his band of men and reskewed him, commanding foure knights to carrie him forth of the battaile, for that he seemed [Page] rather a dead man, then one that had any life left in him, and in this order he was brought to Pacentio the Emperors cheefe Chamberlaine, who had the charge giuen him for the woun­ded persons, because he was verie skilfull therein, and being a man of very auncient time, he was not iudged fit to enter the fight. The Prince Beroldes misfortune was such griefe to his friendes, as they rather desired to beare him company, then to liue in hope of an vncertain victorie, which was ye more doubt­full to them when they remembred the losse of the Emperor Vernar, the King Recinde and the other Princes.

But the knight of the Sauageman, seeing the great slaugh­ter that Albayzar made of his friendes, pricked thorow to the place where he was, and came vnto him with these wordes. Now is the time Albayzar, which alloweth vs opportuuitie to satisfie our long desired reuenge of eche other, and because we two are the occasions of all this trouble, I pray thée let this quarrell be ended betwéene thée and mee, and let not those (who are innocent in this matter) loose their liues for our of­fences. I am so glad (aunswered Albayzar) that it is my good happe to méete with thée at this time, as I would not chaunge my presēt fortune for the most renowmed estate in the world. So breaking off, these two valiant Princes began a fierce Cō ­bat, wherein Albayzar was brought into great daunger, but that a Giant named Altrope came and defended him, which Giant the knight of the Sauadgeman soone depriued of his life, and would haue gone afterward forth of the Battaile to rest himselfe a while, but the king of Sparta came with a great many knightes, and compassed the knight of the Sauageman in such sort, as he was fully determined to loose his life amongst them. Yet so it chaunced, that Primaleon and Palmerin, (who saw the hard case of his Brother Florian) arriued there, and at this [...]ickering they slew the king of Sparta, Luymeno his Sonne, and Antistes his Brother, beside many other knights and personages of great account: and on the Christians side were slaine, Tenebrant and Francian, whose losse the Christi­ans did very much lament. Then was tidinges brought to the Soldane Bellagris, that one had kild his sonne Blandidon, [Page] which report was so gréeuous to him, as hée brake thorow the thickest of his enemies, till he came where his Sonne laye: then presently he alighted from his horse, and comming to his Sonne, he made such sorrowfull lamentations ouer him, as it would haue mooued a stony heart to pittie. Blandidon, who had yet some life left in him, hearing the voice of the Soldane of Niquee his Father, opened his eyes, and offered to lift vp his head to speake vnto him: but such was his feeblenesse, as he could not mooue his head, whereupon he was caried forth of the Field, and committed to the custody of the olde Pacentio.

Bellagris tooke the matter so heauily for his sonne, as he con­cluded to finish his dayes in that place, and so cruelly was he assaulted by his enemie, as he likewise resigned vp his vitall spirite, after that he had kilde the Giant Malearque. In this conflict were slaine of the Turkes, the king of Gamba, and his two Brothers, the Giant Pisistrato, the king of Caspia, the Gi­ant Framustant, who was slaine by the noble Dramnsiande, beside a number of famous Turkes, and on the Christians side were slaine Germayne of Orleaunce, Luyman of Burgundie, Pompides the king of Scots, and diuers other worthy Christi­an Souldiers.

But then to amaze them the more, a number of the Cittizens of Cōstantinople, brought forth such richesse as was left in the Citie, and set it on fire before the enemies face, to the end that if the enemie remayned victor, hée should not vaunt of the spoyle of their goodes: but they being not so content, when they had burnt their riches, went and set on fire the brauest buildinges in the Cittie, and one after another brought them all into Cinders, which was no small griefe to the Christian Armie, seeing such a renowmed Cittie so set on fire, which had triumphed ouer all other Nations.

Albayzar séeing the christiās striken in a maze at the sight of the fire, came with a fresh Bād of men vpon thē, and the knight of the Sauadgeman séeing Albayzar comming, buckled himself against him, where on eyther side was showne incredible pro­wesse: but in the end the Prince Florian preuailed so well a­gainst his enemies, as he yeelded vp the ghost at his foote; which [Page] the Turkes beholding, they beganne to faint very much, in that their whole hope and refuge lay in the Prince of Babylon, neuerthelesse, such was their affection to him, as they would not depart from his dead body, but hemde in the Knight of the Sauage man so hardly on euery side, as they had almost slaine him, but that he was reskewed by diuers of his friendes, who in short time got the better of the Turkes, and the Knight of the Sauage man was caried to the olde Pacentio, who iudged him almost past recouery.

Thus did the Christians obtaine the victory of the Turkes, albeit with little pleasure to themselues, for such small account they made of the honour they had gotten, as no man had any mind to goe fetch the riches which was left in the Turks tents, so grieuously did they take the losse of their friends, and the ab­sence of their Ladies, whom they thought neuer to sée againe.

The common Hindes and Boores of the Countrey, came to ransacke the Turkes Tents, and because they had more know­ledge of the Gold, then of the infinite riches of the precious Stones and other Iewels, they tooke their fill of the worst, leauing those things behinde them of greater estimation: not much vnlike to Aesopes Cocke, that for sooke a precious Stone for a Barley corne, but it is to be committed to the brutishnes of the people, in that they had not béene brought vp in places of knowledge and good iudgement.

CHAP. LXVI.
The counsell and aduise, that the Sage Aliart gaue to them of the Empire of Constantinople. And how he caused the body of the Emperour Palmerin, and the other Princes that were wounded in the Battaile, to be conueied to the Perillous Isle.

WHen the Christians had thus preuailed a­gainst the Turkes, the Sage Aliart came into the Christian Campe, and set downe order, that all they which had béene flaine in the Battaile, should be buried in such maner, as their posterity after them should remember their singular prowesse in this Battaile against the great Turke. And as for them that were liuing, yet very sore wounded, he annointed them with a cer­taine kinde of oyntment, the vertue wherof was such, as it cast them into a sound sléepe.

In the meane while Argentao, the Gouernour of the Pro­found Isle, (whom the Sage Aliart had commaunded to come) arriued in the Porte of Constantinople, with foure Galleyes, and being come on shoare, the Sage Aliart & he went into the Cittie, and commaunded all the inhabitants to assemble them­selues together, which they did immediately, when hée be­gan to let them vnderstand, what small hope was to be repo­sed on the liues of the Prince Primaleon their Emperour, and Florendos his Sonne, because they had béene so cruelly woun­ded in the Battaile, desiring them to take their losse so patient­ly as they could, and not to dismay themselues: but that they should prouide for the reedifying their Citie, not onely to assure [Page] themselues from the danger of their enemies, but to witnesse to the world, that fortune had not the power to roote out quite the name of the noble Citie of Constantinople, as she had sub­uerted the memorie of many other famous and renowmed Citties.

Beside, they should call home againe those Citizens, who (for feare of daunger) had taken themselues to the neare ad­ioyning Fortresses, and by a generall voyce to choose them a gouernour, for otherwise they should not containe themselues within bonds of assurance. And therefore (quoth he) I am the more willing you should choose you a Gouernour (if so bee the Emperour Primaleon, and the Prince Florendos his Sonne, should finish their liues, by the hurts they haue receiued in the Battaile, because I would not haue you left comfortlesse: but this you must vnderstand, that the yong Princesse Primaleon, Sonne of the noble Florendos and the Princesse Miragarda, must be the next inheritour of the Empire. Now, for that the Childe is very young, and beside, hée is a long way hence, I would you would get you such a gouernor, as might be thought worthy of so great a charge, and whom you may be well con­tented withall, vntill the young Primaleon come to sufficient yeares, that hee may be able to receiue his royall Scepter of gouernment.

And this I must desire you, that you will not be offended be­cause I kéepe the childe so farre from you, for I assure you, he shall be daily in the company of other noble Princes, with whome hee shall exercise Knightly Armes, and learne the rules of discretion and Vertue, wherewith it is necessary a Prince should be adorned. For your selues, I would wish you to order your dealings so well, as he that shall succeede this Empire, may receiue no occasion to dislike you: and that you may continue your course the better, I will come diuers times to visite you, to let you vnderstand of the welfare of the Empe­rour Primaleon.

The Citizens of Constantinople tooke in very good part these friendly spéeches, but they were not a little agrieued, that there [Page] was no greater assurance of the Emperour Primaleons life: wherefore seeing the Sage Aliarts excused the matter so well, they requested of him, that he would tell them in what place the yong Prince was nourished, that they might come some­times to visite him as their Lord and Soueraigne.

Your request (answered Aliart) is very great, yet will I somewhat content your earnest desire: the place where your prince is nourished, is called the Perillious Isle, which some­time belonged to the Sage Vrganda, but at this time it is in my custody, for that my brother, and the noble Palmerin of Eng­land, who conquered it with his sword and great losse of his blood, bestowed it vpon me.

After he had thus directed them for the order of their go­uernment, he tooke his way to the monasterie of Saint Clare, where the body of the Emperour Palmerin lay embalmed, and the bodies of the other Kings and Princesse, which he caused to bée conueyed into one of Argentaos Gallies: but Primaleon, King Edward and his sonnes, Berolde, Gracian, Floraman of Sardignia, and Blandidon, who were all estéemed as dead per­sons, for that Aliart had laid them in such a traunce, they were laid in another Galley, where their wounds were visited ve­ry diligently.

Then the Galleyes departing from the Citie, the people be­gan to lament excéedingly, because so many noble princes were brought into such dangerous estates: yet durst they not shewe any kind of feare or dismaying, least they should chance to dis­please their friend the Sage Aliart. Within fewe dayes the Gallies arriued at the Perillous Isle, where their Ladies receiued them very worthily, and the Sage Aliart shewed himselfe so diligent towards the recouery of thier health, as they re­mained on all sides greatly contented.

FINIS.

To the courteous Reader.

THus Gentlemen, I haue finished the second part of this most famous History, desiring you to beare with the rudenesse in the translation, and to esteeme of my good will, which farre more then my cunning will stretch vnto. As for the the History of Palmerin d'Oliue, which con­taiueth three seueral parts, and should haue bin translated before this, or Prmaleon of Greece, because they are the originall of all the other stories: after I haue ended the third part of this worthie Historie (God aiding me) you shall haue them very spee­dily, with any thing else that I desire you to accept of this, and to con­sider how highly it hath bene, and yet is esteemed in diuers countries, being first written in the Spanish towgue, next in Italian, and after­ward in French, and how it hath bene countenanced with the titles of Princes and Personages of great dignitie, which may moue you to al­low it the better acceptation, in that it is to the honour of our countrey of England, and deuised by strangers, to honour it the more. Thus not doubting of your fauourable iudgement, I humbly take my leaue, wishing you all good happes, that is meet for all such gentle and friendly mindes to haue.

Yours A. M.

A Table for the more ready finding of euery Chapter, contained in this Booke.

  • OF that which happened to the Prince Florendos, after that he had left the Castle of Dramorant the Cruell, where he vanquished Astribor. chap. 1.
  • Of that which happened to the Prince Florendos, after that hee departed from the castle of the Prince Arnalto, chap. 2.
  • How the Damosell of the Princesse of Terace, arriued at the Court of the Emperour Palmerin. And of that which hap­pened to the Knight of the Tiger. chap. 3.
  • Of that which happened to the Knight of the Tiger, against those that were in ambush to take the Damosel. chap. 4.
  • Of that which happened to the Knight of the Sauage man, af­ter he departed from the Court of the Emperour Vernar. chap. 5.
  • Of that which happened to the knight of the Sauage man, be­fore he had taken his farewel of the Damosell. chap. 6.
  • How the knights which belonged to the giants Brocalon and Baleato, surrendred vp the Castles vnto the noble knight of the Sauage man: and of that which happned to the prince Florendos, &c. chap. 7.
  • Of the combates that the Prince Florendos fought, the second day after hee enterprised to guard the Shield of the Prin­cesse Miragarda. chap. 8.
  • Of a strange aduenture which chaunced before the Castle of the Giant Almarol, and what happened to the Prince Flo­rendos. chap. 9.
  • Here shall be declared, what and who the Knight was, that came in the company of the Princesse Arnalte, & for what cause he and she trauailed to the castle of the Giant Alma­roll: and of the great entertainement that was made in the Court, &c. chap. 10.
  • How the Emperour with his noble company, entred the city of Constantinople, & of the gracious entertainment which was made to Leonarda, &c. chap. 11.
  • [Page] Of an aduenture which happened in the Court of the Empe­rour Palmerin, and of, &c. cha. 12.
  • Here shall be discoursed what and who the Damosell was, that had thus gotten the Prince Florian, &c. chap. 13.
  • Of that which happened to the knight of the Tiger, follow­ing the search of the prince Florian, &c. cha. 14.
  • Of that which happened to the Knight of the Sauage man, &c. cha. 15.
  • Of the aduentures which chaunced to the Knight of the Sa­uage man, conducting these Ladies to the king of Spaines Court: and of that which happened to the knight of the Tiger, &c. cha. 16.
  • Of the combat betweene the Giant Espouuantable, and the noble knight of the Tiger: and of the battaile betweene Berolde, Plaetih and the Sage Aliart, &c. cha. 17.
  • Of that which happened to the noble Prince Palmerin of England, &c. cha. 18.
  • Here is yet conteined what happened to Palmerin of Eng­land, &c. chap. 19.
  • How Alfernao arriued at the Emperours court of Constanti­nople, &c. cha. 20.
  • How the princes and knights which were prisoners to the great Turke, arriued at the court of Constantinople, wher­vpon the king Recinde deliuered out of prison, &c. ch. 21.
  • How the knight of the Sauage man (accompanied with the damosels) arriued in the king of Spaines court, and of that which hapned to him there against the P. Albayzar. ch. 22.
  • How the Damosels knight and Albayzar iousted together. chap. 23.
  • Of that which happened to the Damosels knight, in going to the Castle of Almaroll. cha. 24.
  • How Trafolant and these other three knights yeelded them­selues in the Spanish court. And how the damosels knight arriued at the Castle, &c. cha. 25.
  • Of the Iousts which were enterprised betweene the Damo­sels knight, and him that kept the shield of the Princesse Miragarda: and of the combat at which the knight, &c. c. 26.
  • [Page] Of that which happened to the damosels knight, as he retur­ned to the Court of Recinde, &c. chap. 27.
  • What the Prince Florēdos did to the vāquished knight. And how those knights whom the prince Florian had conque­red, &c. chap. 28.
  • Of that which happened to the Knight of the Sauage man, when he came to the Castle where Arnalte the Princesse of Nauarre, &c. chap. 19.
  • How the Prince Albayzar embarqued himselfe to sayle into Turkie, after he had presented himselfe to Leonarda, the Princesse of Thrace, &c., chap. 30.
  • Of that which happened to the knight of the Tiger, after he was departed from the Perillous Isle, &c. chap. 31.
  • How the Knight of the Tiger tooke his leaue of Meliadus the King of the Scots, and of the Princesse Armisia his daugh­ter, &c. chap. 32.
  • How the knight of the Tiger arriued at Constantinople, and of an aduenture which was, &c. chap. 33.
  • Of the talke which the Prince Palmerin had with the prin­cesse Polinarda his Lady. chap. 34.
  • How certaine Knights arriued at the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, who were aduertised how the Turks had proui­ded a great Armie, &c. chap. 35.
  • Of an aduenture which happened (during the trouble at Cō ­stantinople) in the Realme of France, and after what man­ner, &c. chap. 36.
  • Of that which hapned to certaine other knights, who would prooue the aduenture of these, &c. chap. 37.
  • Of that which happened to the knight of the Sauage man, in prouing the aduenture with these foure, &c. chap. 38.
  • How the strange knight entered the field to Ioust vnder the name of madame Latrania. chap. 39.
  • Of that which happened to the strange knight, the first day he guarded the passage of the Valley. chap. 40.
  • The complaints which the strange Knight made in the night time, vnder the window of the chamber, where the foure Ladies, &c. chap. 41.
  • [Page] What hapned to the strange knight the second day he guar­ded the passage of the valley. chap. 42.
  • Of that which happened to the strange knight the third and &c. chap. 43.
  • Of that which happened to the strange knight this night: & how the Knight of the Sphere entred the combate the day following. chap. 44.
  • Of that which the strange knight did the day following, gar­ding the Valley, chap. 45.
  • Of that which happened to the strange knight the last day he guarded the passage, vnder the name of Madame Torsia. chap. 46.
  • How the knight of the Sauage man arriued at the Court of Constantinople: & how Dragonalt & Arnalte the Queen of Nauarre; &c. chap. 47.
  • How Arnedes king of France and his Queene, Recinde king of Spaine and his Queene, accompanied with the princesse Miragarda and the Giant Almaroll, arriued at, &c. chap. 48.
  • Of the conference which the Emperor had with the Princes: and how the mariages which he had appointed were now &c. chap. 49.
  • How the Soldan Bellagris was baptized, and how afterward the Emperor caused him to be marryed to Pandritia, and how, &c. chap. 50.
  • How the Queene of Thrace was conueied away by a strange aduenture, while the knights, &c. chap. 51.
  • How by the ayde of the Sage Aliart of the Obscure Valley, the noble knight of the Sauage man deliuered out of the Enchantment his, &c. chap. 52.
  • Of that which the Christians did in Constantinople, at what time the Princesse Targiana sent tidings to the Court of the Emperour Palmerin, of the comming of his enemies. chap▪ 53.
  • How the enemies sent an Ambassadour vnto the Emperours Court, and of the answer was, &c. chap▪ 54.
  • How the Armie of the great Turke arriued at the Port of [Page] Constantinople, and of the noble and valiant prowesse of the Christians, &c. cha. 55.
  • Of the griefe and sorrowe made in Constantinople, for the dangerous estate wherein the Giant Dramusiande was brought: And how the Turkes placed their campe before the citie of Constantinople. cha. 56.
  • Of that which Albayzar did after hee had well prouided for his army, and of the succour which came to the Emperour Palmerin. cha. 57.
  • Of an aduenture which happened by the arriuall of a strange knight, accompanied with a Lady, in the Prince Albayzars campe. cha. 58.
  • Heare shall be declared, after what maner the Prince Florian of the Forrest, arriued at Constantinople, & of many things &c. cha. 59.
  • How the combate betweene twelue Turks and twelue Chri­stians was begun, and how the Ladies caused it to be gi­uen, &c. cha. 60.
  • Of a noble and valiant combate betweene Dramusiande and the Giant Framustant. cha. 61.
  • Of the battaile betweene the Turkes and the Christians, and of that which happened. cha. 62.
  • Of the first battaile betweene the Christians and the Turkes, and the successe thereof. cha. 63.
  • Of that which they did in Constantinople, before they gaue the enemy the second battaile. cha. 64.
  • Of the second battaile betweene the Christians, & the Turks, and what happened. cha. 65.
  • The counsell and aduise that the Sage Aliart gaue to them of the Empire of Constantinople. And how he caused the bo­dies of the Emperour Palmerin and the other Princes, &c. chap. 66.
The end of the Table.

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